Bomeer looked young, almost sprightly, in a stylish robe of green and tan. He was slightly built, had a lean, almost ascetic face that was spoiled by a large mop of unruly brown hair.
Commander Fain was iron gray, square-faced, a perfect picture of a military leader. His black and silver uniform fit his muscular frame like a second skin. His gray eyes seemed eternally troubled.
The Emperor greeted them and allowed Bomeer to spend a few minutes admiring the forest simulation. The scientist called out the correct names for each type of tree they walked past and identified several species of birds and squirrel. Finally the Emperor asked him about the young woman who had arrived on the Imperial Planet the previous month.
«I have discussed her plan thoroughly with her,» Bomeer said, his face going serious. «I must say that she is dedicated, energetic, close to brilliant. But rather naive and overly sanguine about her own ideas.»
«Could her plan work?» asked the Emperor.
«Could it work?» the scientist echoed. He had tenaciously held onto his post at the top of the scientific hierarchy for nearly a century. His body had been rejuvenated more than once, the Emperor knew. But not his mind.
«Sire, there is no way to tell if it could work! Such an operation has never been done before. There are no valid data. Mathematics, yes. But even so, there is no more than theory. And the costs! The time it would take! The technical manpower! Staggering.»
The Emperor stopped walking. Fifty meters away, behind the hologram screens, a dozen meditechs suddenly hunched over their readout screens intently.
But the Emperor had stopped merely to repeat to Bomeer, «Could her plan work?»
Bomeer ran a hand through his boyish mop, glanced at Commander Fain for support and found none, then faced his Emperor again. «I … there is no firm answer, Sire. Statistically, I would say that the chances are vanishingly small.»
«Statistics!» The Emperor made a disgusted gesture. «A refuge for scoundrels and sociotechs. Is there anything scientifically impossible in what she proposes?»
«Nnn … not theoretically impossible, Sire,» Bomeer said slowly. «But in the practical world of reality it … it is the magnitude of the project. The costs. Why, it would take half of Commander Fain’s fleet to transport the equipment and material.»
Fain seized his opportunity to speak. «And the Imperial Fleet, Sire, is spread much too thin for safety as it is.»
«We are at peace, Commander,» said the Emperor.
«For how long, Sire? The frontier worlds grow more restless every day. And the aliens beyond our borders—»
«Are weaker than we are. I have reviewed the intelligence assessments, Commander.»
«Sire, the relevant factor in those reports is that the aliens are growing stronger and we are not.»
With a nod, the Emperor resumed walking. The scientist and the commander followed him, arguing their points unceasingly.
Finally they reached the end of the long corridor, where the holographic simulation showed them Earth’s Sun setting beyond the edge of an ocean, turning the restless sea into an impossible glitter of opalescence.
«Your recommendations, then, gentlemen?» he asked wearily. Even in the one-third gravity his legs felt tired, his back ached.
Bomeer spoke first, his voice hard and sure. «This naive dream of saving the Earth’s Sun is doomed to fail. The plan must be rejected.»
Fain added, «The Fleet can detach enough squadrons from its noncombat units to initiate the evacuation of Earth whenever you order it, Sire.»
«Evacuate them to an unsettled planet?» the Emperor asked.
«Or resettle them on the existing frontier worlds. The Earth residents are rather frontier-like themselves; they have purposely been kept primitive. They would get along well with some of the frontier populations. They might even serve to calm down some of the unrest on the frontier worlds.»
The Emperor looked at Fain and almost smiled. «Or they might fan that unrest into outright rebellion. They are a cantankerous lot, you know.»
«We can deal with rebellion,» said Fain.
«Can you?» the Emperor asked. «You can kill people, of course. You can level cities and even render whole planets uninhabitable. But does that end it? Or do the neighboring worlds become fearful and turn against us?»
Fain stood as unmoved as a statue. His lips barely parted as he asked. «Sire, if I may speak frankly?»
«Certainly, Commander.»
Like a soldier standing at attention as he delivers an unpleasant report to his superior officer, Fain drew himself up and monotoned, «Sire, the main reason for unrest among the frontier worlds is the lack of Imperial firmness in dealing with them. In my opinion, a strong hand is desperately needed. The neighboring worlds will respect their Emperor if—and only if—he acts decisively. The people value strength, Sire, not meekness.»
The Emperor reached out and put a hand on the Commander’s shoulder. Fain was still iron-hard under his uniform.
«You have sworn an oath to protect and defend this Realm,» the Emperor said. «If necessary, to die for it.»
«And to protect and defend you, Sire.» The man stood straighter and firmer than the trees around them.
«But this Empire, my dear Commander, is more than blood and steel. It is more than any one man. It is an idea.»
Fain looked back at him steadily, but with no real understanding in his eyes. Bomeer stood uncertainly off to one side.
Impatiently, the Emperor turned his face toward the ceiling hologram and called, «Map!»
Instantly the forest scene disappeared and they were in limitless space. Stars glowed around them, overhead, on all sides, underfoot. The pale gleam of the galaxy’s spiral arms wafted off and away into unutterable distance.
Bomeer’s knees buckled. Even the Commander’s rigid self-discipline was shaken.
The Emperor smiled. He was accustomed to walking godlike on the face of the Deep.
«This is the Empire, gentlemen,» he lectured in the darkness. «A handful of stars, a pitiful scattering of worlds set apart by distances that take years to traverse. All populated by human beings, the descendants of Earth.»
He could hear Bomeer breathing heavily. Fain was a ramrod outline against the glow of the Milky Way, but his hands were outstretched, as if seeking balance.
«What links these scattered dust motes? What preserves their ancient heritage, guards their civilization, protects their hard-won knowledge and arts and sciences? The Empire. Gentlemen. We are the mind of the Hundred Worlds, their memory, the yardstick against which they can measure their own humanity. We are their friend, their father, their teacher and helper.»
The Emperor searched the black starry void for the tiny yellowish speck of Earth’s Sun, while saying:
«But if the Hundred Worlds decide that the Empire is no longer their friend, if they want to leave their father, if they feel that their teacher and helper has become an oppressor … what then happens to the human race? It will shatter into a hundred fragments, and all the civilization that we have built and nurtured and protected over all these centuries will be destroyed.»
Bomeer’s whispered voice floated through the darkness. «They would never …»
«Yes. They would never turn against the Empire because they know that they have more to gain by remaining with us than by leaving us.»
«But the frontier worlds,» Fain said.
«The frontier worlds are restless, as frontier communities always are. If we use military might to force them to bow to our will, then other worlds will begin to wonder where their own best interests lie.»
«But they could never hope to fight against the Empire!»
The Emperor snapped his fingers and instantly the three of them were standing again in the forest at sunset.