«They could never hope to win against the Empire,» the Emperor corrected. «But they could destroy the Empire and themselves. I have played out the scenarios with the computers. Widespread rebellion is possible, once the majority of the Hundred Worlds becomes convinced that the Empire is interfering with their freedoms.»
«But the rebels could never win,» the Commander said. «I have run the same wargames myself, many times.»
«Civil war,» said the Emperor. «Who wins a civil war? And once we begin to slaughter ourselves, what will your aliens do, my dear Fain? Eh?»
His two advisors fell silent. The forest simulation was now deep in twilight shadow. The three men began to walk back along the path, which was softly illuminated by bioluminescent flowers.
Bomeer clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. «Now that I have seen some of your other problems, Sire, I must take a stronger stand and insist—yes, Sire, insist—that this young woman’s plan to save the Earth is even more foolhardy than I had at first thought it to be. The cost is too high, and the chance of success is much too slim. The frontier worlds would react violently against such an extravagance. And,» with a nod to Fain, «it would hamstring the Fleet.»
For several moments the Emperor walked down the simulated forest path without saying a word. Then, slowly, «I suppose you are right. It is an old man’s sentimental dream.»
«I’m afraid that’s the truth of it, Sire,» said Fain.
Bomeer nodded sagaciously.
«I will tell her. She will be disappointed. Bitterly.»
Bomeer gasped. «She’s here?»
The Emperor said, «Yes, I had her brought here to the palace. She has crossed the Empire, given up more than two years of her life to make the trip, lost a dozen years of her career over this wild scheme of hers … just to hear that I will refuse her.»
«In the palace?» Fain echoed. «Sire, you’re not going to see her in person? The security …»
«Yes, in person. I owe her that much.» The Emperor could see the shock on their faces. Bomeer, who had never stood in the same building with the Emperor until he had become Chairman of the Academy, was trying to suppress his fury with poor success. Fain, sworn to guard the Emperor as well as the Empire, looked worried.
«But Sire,» the Commander said, «no one has personally seen the Emperor, privately, outside of his family and closest advisors,» Bomeer bristled visibly, «in years … decades!»
The Emperor nodded but insisted, «She is going to see me. I owe her that much. An ancient ruler on Earth once said, ‘When you are going to kill a man, it costs nothing to be polite about it.’ She is not a man, of course, but I fear that our decision will kill her soul.»
They looked unconvinced.
Very well then, the Emperor said to them silently. Put it down as the whim of an old man … a man who is feeling all his years … a man who will never recapture his youth.
She is only a child.
The Emperor studied Adela de Montgarde as the young astrophysicist made her way through the guards and secretaries and halls and antechambers toward his own private chambers. He had prepared to meet her in his reception room, changed his mind and moved the meeting to his office, then changed it again and now waited for her in his study. She knew nothing of his indecision, she merely followed the directions given her by the computer-informed staff of the palace.
The study was a warm old room, lined with shelves of private tapes that the Emperor had collected over the years. A stone fireplace big enough to walk into spanned one wall; its flames soaked the Emperor in lifegiving warmth. The opposite wall was a single broad window that looked out on the real forest beyond the palace walls. The window could also serve as a hologram frame; the Emperor could have any scene he wanted projected from it.
Best to have reality this evening, he told himself. There is too little reality in my life these days. So he eased back in his powerchair and watched his approaching visitor on the viewscreen above the fireplace of the richly carpeted, comfortably paneled old room.
He had carefully absorbed all the computer’s information about Adela de Montgarde: born of a noble family on Gris, a frontier world whose settlers were slowly, painfully transforming it from a ball of rock into a viable habitat for human life. He knew her face, her life history, her scientific accomplishments and rank. But now, as he watched her approaching on the viewscreen built into the stone fireplace, he realized how little knowledge had accompanied the computer’s detailed information.
The door to the study swung open automatically, and she stood uncertainly, framed in the doorway.
The Emperor swiveled his powerchair around to face her. The view screen immediately faded and became indistinguishable from the other stones.
«Come in, come in, Dr. Montgarde.»
She was tiny, the smallest woman the Emperor remembered seeing. Her face was almost elfin, with large curious eyes that looked as if they had known laughter. She wore a metallic tunic buttoned to the throat, and a brief skirt. Her figure was childlike.
The Emperor smiled to himself. She certainly won’t tempt me with her body.
As she stepped hesitantly into the study, her eyes darting all around the room, he said:
«I am sure that my aides have filled your head with all sorts of nonsense about protocol—when to stand, when to bow, what forms of address to use. Forget all of it. This is an informal meeting, common politeness will suffice. If you need a form of address for me, call me Sire. I shall call you Adela, if you don’t mind.»
With a slow nod of her head she answered, «Thank you, Sire. That will be fine.» Her voice was so soft that he could barely hear it. He thought he detected a slight waver in it.
She’s not going to make this easy for me, he said to himself. Then he noticed the stone that she wore on a slim silver chain about her neck.
«Agate,» he said.
She fingered the stone reflexively. «Yes. It’s from my homeworld … Gris. Our planet is rich in minerals.»
«And poor in cultivable land.»
«Yes. But we are converting more land every year.»
«Please sit down.» the Emperor said. «I’m afraid it’s been so long since my old legs have tried to stand in a full gravity that I’m forced to remain in this power chair or lower the gravitational field in this room. But the computer files said that you are not accustomed to low-g fields.»
She glanced around the warm, richly furnished room.
«Any seat you like. My chair rides like a magic carpet.»
Adela picked the biggest couch in the room and tucked herself into a corner of it. The Emperor glided his chair over to her.
«It’s very kind of you to keep the gravity up for me,» she said.
He shrugged. «It costs nothing to be polite. But tell me, of all the minerals that Gris is famous for, why did you choose to wear agate?»
She blushed.
The Emperor laughed. «Come, come, my dear. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s well known that agate is a magical stone that protects the wearer from scorpions and snakes. An ancient superstition, of course, but it could possibly be significant, eh?»
«No … it’s not that!»
«Then what is it?»
«It … agate also makes the wearer eloquent in speech.»
«And a favorite of princes,» added the Emperor.
Her blush had gone. She sat straighter and almost smiled. «And it gives one victory over her enemies.»
«You perceive me as your enemy?»
«Oh no!» She reached out toward him, her small, childlike hand almost touching his.
«Who then?»
«The hierarchy … the old men who pretend to be young and refuse to admit any new ideas into the scientific community.»