"Did you?" the Emperor wondered. "Ambition is a hydra."
"Does it matter, sir?" Poyndex asked. "Because unlike those dunders on the privy council, I doubt if you would ever expose your back to me."
The Emperor nodded. Enlightened—or fearful—self-interest was an acceptable motivation. Especially for the tasks he planned to set Poyndex.
"I accept your assignment, Your Majesty. Of course I do. In fact, I am honored."
"Good. There will be other people assigned to you. Some of them will come from... equally gray backgrounds. And some of them will be given missions you will have no need to know about."
"I understand, sir."
"Just like that one." The Emperor indicated the proposal. "I have three questions on my proposal," he went on. "Do you need to know any more about this device?"
"No, sir. And I would refuse to listen if I did. Just knowledge of this is risky enough to endanger my continued survival."
"Do you think the task can be accomplished?"
"Yes," Poyndex said flatly. "We've had far more elaborate work done on doubles, triples, and defectors, Your Majesty."
"Good. Very good," the Emperor said.
"We will need about a month to assemble the personnel, sir. Probably two cycles for the work itself, and of course, complete seclusion," Poyndex said.
"I have already thought of that." The Emperor reached across the desk and picked up the proposal. He took a firestick from his desk, ignited it, and held it to the paper. The papers instantly flamed into sheets, and then were gray ashes.
"The site will be ancient Earth."
Poyndex rose, saluted, and was gone.
The Emperor stared after him. It was a pity he would never offer Poyndex a celebratory drink, or make him dinner when a plan was complete, as he had done with Ian Mahoney or Sten.
But that had been long ago, and this was another time.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
''Y'r mug's screw't up like a basset, young Sten. And Ah dinna ken y'r worry," Alex said. "Th' hae no choice in th' matter. 'Tis th' Emperor's command."
"That doesn't make it any easier," Sten said.
"I agree with Alex," Cind said, a Bhor fascist at heart. "I know you don't like just flat out announcing to these people their fate has been determined. A new leader is on the way and they'll just have to like it or choke on it. But I don't see any way to sugarcoat it. Those are the facts, and they'll just have to live with them."
"It wasn't sugarcoating I was looking for," Sten said.
"Make up your mind fast, lad," Alex said. "Our friendly four will be here any minute."
"Here's how I see it," Sten said. "When Dr. Iskra arrives—and I still don't know exactly when he is going to arrive, damn it—anyway, when he arrives and takes command, things can go into the drakh in a hurry. What if everyone tells the Emperor to put his new fearless leader where the sun is mortified to go?"
"The Emperor would crush them," Cind said flatly.
"Probably," Sten said. "Still. Beings have done stranger things. Up to and including mass suicide. I guess they don't quite believe it will really happen to them."
Sten reflected on the millions of dead and the awful destruction the Tahn had caused themselves.
"I want to do this right," he said. "Otherwise, we'll end up with a six-way civil war on our hands. I want the Emperor's choice to stick. Make them worry about refusing to go along with Dr. Iskra."
Cind didn't get it. "If they're all that crazy—and from what I've seen, all the species in this Sarla-forsaken cluster are certifiably insane-wouldn't worry just aggravate the problem?"
Alex was thoughtful. "Nae's' fast, lass. Our Sten i' sharpenin' his Mantis wits." He turned to Sten. "C'd we no make't personal, lad? Fear alone c'n make a man braw. But, add guilt t' fear and y' oft find a lurkin' coward."
Sten looked up at Alex. And the light bulb dawned. "Why kiss me, Dr. Rykor," he laughed.
"Ah'm no so blubbery," Alex sniffed.
But Sten wasn't paying any attention. He was hastily drawing up a game plan. Just as the outline took shape, the com line buzzed.
It was time.
"Before we begin, Sr. Ambassador," General Douw said, "the four of us would like to express our-" The silver-haired Jochian glanced nervously around the sterile room Sten had chosen for the meeting. "-our appreciation for your... ahem... hospitality."
Sten ostentatiously glanced at the time display ticking away on the far wall. It was the only decoration. "My pleasure," he said, sounding bored. He drummed his fingers on the table.
"We know you're a busy man, Sr. Sten," Menynder said, peering at him amiably through his antique spectacles. "So, as soon as we got word you wanted to see us, we got together to hammer out a little presentation."
"Oh?" was all Sten said.
"We're extremely proud of this effort," the general broke in. "In fact, I personally view this as an historic moment.'' He pushed over a sheaf of documents. "Herewith is our plan for a new government. All four of us have signed on. I think you'll be impressed with our efforts."
"Must only clear with home worlds,'' Diatry, the Bogazi leader, said.
"I can guarantee the Suzdal," Youtang barked.
Sten frowned at the documents and prodded at them with a suspicious finger.
"Something wrong?" Menynder asked. The old Tork's alarm bells were going off. They had ting-a-linged a bit when he had walked into this white-on-white room. It was decidedly unfriendly. Reminded him of an interrogation room. He also noted the walls were thick enough to be scream-proof. The only furniture was the long, bare table they were seated at. And five hard chairs.
"Are you sure you want to give this to me?" Sten asked, poking at the offending documents.
"Of course we're sure," General Douw said. "This is the blueprint, I tell you, the blueprint of our future."
Sten just stared at him.
The general got a little panicky under the stare. He turned to Menynder. "That's what you said, isn't it?"
"Quiet, General," Menynder warned.
"Why should I be quiet? We're here to air our views, correct? To be firm, but fair. We agreed, right?"
"You talk, talk, talk," Diatry said, picking up which way the wind was blowing. And it was definitely smelling.
But Douw was still on his self-destructive course. "I'm not going to take all the blame," he whined. "It's not my fault! Sr. Ambassador, please..."
"You want to remove these?" Sten asked, shifting to a gentle tone and pushing the documents back toward the general. "I'll pretend I never saw them."
"Sure. No trouble. Lot of drakh, anyway," Douw babbled, hauling the sheaf of papers back.
"What is your pleasure, Sr. Ambassador?" Menynder said. "How can we make your mission easier?"
"Two things. The first is a mere matter of curiosity. The Eternal Emperor's curiosity, I might add."
"Which is?" Menynder asked.
"The dinner party you had for the Khaqan. On that tragic night."
Stone silence in the room. Gotcha, Sten thought. He let the silence lay there for a long time.
"You four were among those in attendance, correct?'' he asked at last.
"Uh...well... I arrived awfully late," General Douw said.
"Then you were there," Sten said. A statement.