“I am afraid not.” Bomeer selected a chair facing the sofa and sat down, studying the Prince. He had seen Eric nearly ten years earlier when he’d first visited the Moon, then again on a short visit planetside to attend to some of the Emperor’s affairs at Woodsgate, but he was simply not prepared for how much the boy had grown. My God, he thought as he studied Eric’s features. You truly are your father’s son… And your mother’s. “The Emperor regrets that he was not able to greet you himself on your arrival, but has asked me to meet with you personally and to see to it that your immediate needs are met in the meantime.”
A look of disappointment washed over Eric’s face for a moment, but he nodded acceptance. He smiled in understanding at Bomeer and said, “I knew he might be. Oh, well, there’s plenty of time. Could you arrange for an escort for me for later? I’d like to see some of the recreational and entertainment facilities here in the Imperial residence, as well as the research labs. Whatever’s not restricted, of course.”
Bomeer raised an eyebrow, remembering what Javas had said about the boy’s prowess with computers.
“Of course. I’ll have someone on standby; just give security a call once you have a chance to settle in.”
Eric leaned back on the sofa and stretched, working the kinks out of his arms and legs after the lengthy shuttle trip from Earth. “It’s probably just as well,” he said, yawning. “I think I could use the time to nap out for a while.”
“I imagine you are tired,” Bomeer replied. “Earthers can do that to you.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “Oh? But I am an Earther.”
A sudden wave of self-induced shock swept over Bomeer and he stuttered—something he rarely did—in quick apology to his Emperor’s son. “Your Highness! I did not mean to imply that—”
Eric laughed, dismissing the academician’s unintended insult with a wave of his hand. “Please, you’ve not offended me.” He leaned back into the couch, folding his hands behind his head. “I’ve heard you hold no great love for Earthers.”
“What can I say?” Bomeer shrugged, and chuckled nervously along with the good-natured Prince. “I’ve not attempted to hide my feelings for Earthers any more than—”
“Any more than you’ve hidden your feelings for my father’s project.” Eric’s grin broadened mischievously.
“I have known you but a few hours,” Bomeer said, cautiously returning Eric’s smile, “and already you have caught me off guard; not once, but twice. You not only remind me of your father, but I see a great deal of your grandfather in you as well.” Bomeer’s estimation of the Prince rose several notches and he stood, spreading his hands wide in open admission as he headed for the door. “In any event, it is my job to express my opinion.”
“My father speaks very highly of you for that.”
Bomeer stopped, taken somewhat by surprise at this revelation, and turned back to the Prince. “Thank you for saying so.”
Eric padded silently across the luxurious carpeting and stood facing the academician. “I’ve spoken in confidence to you, Academician; maybe you’ll return the favor. Tell me: How is my father?”
“He works too hard, he works too long; and he sometimes tries to accomplish too much in a short time.” Bomeer paused, taking the measure of the young man before him. “But he is very proud of his son and has been anxiously awaiting your visit for many weeks. Now that you have arrived… your father is fine.”
Eric extended his hand. “Thank you, Academician.”
Bomeer shook hands, then turned for the door, opening the security latch with his thumbprint. “Enjoy your rest. Security will send your escort when you are ready to tour the facilities.”
The door slid closed behind Bomeer and, nodding briefly to the guards posted at each side of the entrance to the Prince’s suite, the academician walked briskly down the corridor.
Your son is a fine young man, Javas, he mused. He will make an excellent Emperor one day.
Port Director Mila Kaselin lay on her back, her lifeless eyes staring emptily from a crushed and misshapen face into the high reaches of the Imperial landing bay. A portable screen generator had been placed on the floor near her body, the hastily erected shielding now surrounding the controller’s station opaqued at its perimeter to hide the gruesome sight Eric stared at now.
Glenney’s call had come on his third night on Luna, as he and his father had finally managed to share a private dinner together. His father had left strict orders not to be disturbed, and had even gone so far as to disable the communications page in his dining room system to ensure a quiet evening. But someone had been killed at the port facility, and the Security Chief had thought the situation important enough to warrant interrupting one of the Emperor’s all-too-rare family visits. Eric knew what had happened, of course; he had even seen it in Glenney’s holoreport showing the grisly scene uncomfortably real—and even more uncomfortably close to the dinner table—and had a good idea of what to expect. Death was no stranger to him than it was to any other sixteen-year-old, but seeing it firsthand was still an experience that caught him more unprepared than he would have liked. Seeing it over the first dinner with his father in nearly eight months hadn’t helped.
But then he had insisted on accompanying the Emperor to the scene. “This concerns me,” he’d told his father at the conclusion of Glenney’s report. “I belong there.” But now he had second thoughts about not having waited for him at the table, as his father had suggested.
“She was beaten to death, Sire,” Glenney was saying, “plain and simple. Whoever did this overpowered her and knocked her unconscious, and then continued until there was almost nothing left of her.” Glenney paused, noting the look on Javas’ face as the Emperor knelt before the broken body at his feet. “She, uh… Judging from the damage done by the blows, she was probably rendered unconscious almost immediately and didn’t suffer through most of this.”
Javas stood up rigidly, addressing his Security Chief in a tone that made the usually self-assured Glenney snap to attention. “Is that supposed to diminish what has happened here?” he demanded. The Emperor spun about and walked steadily toward the edge of the circle of shielding. “I want a full report in thirty minutes, Glenney, in my study. Eric!” Glenney’s men literally had to scramble to get the shield open fast enough for Javas to pass through without slowing his stride.
Eric hesitated, still transfixed by the body on the floor in front of him. Director Kaselin had personally taken charge of his shuttle when he’d arrived, and she had been the first to greet him when he disembarked the vehicle. He remembered thinking at the time how pretty she was, but he had difficulty now, staring down at her battered corpse, recalling anything at all about what she looked like.
“Eric!” His father had halted several paces on the other side of the shielding and was waiting impatiently with the escort, the look on his face a confused mixture of rage and sorrow. He turned away from the mess and hurriedly joined Javas, who had already resumed walking down the corridor.
They walked the labyrinth of corridors leading to the Emperor’s study in wordless silence, the clicking of their boots on the hard surface echoing hollowly as they walked.
Eric had seen his grandfather’s study at Woodsgate only once—his father had visited Earth on the occasion of his tenth birthday, and had taken him inside the sealed room to talk about his future role in the Imperial structure—but this room seemed designed to be a mirror image of it. The paneling, the bookshelves filled with as many real books as tapes, the viewscreen, everything.