"How do you know," Cind asked, "that somebody will pick up that pistol and we can track it to another arsenal?"
"I don't-not for sure. But people who make their living around things that go bang seem to get a little wiggy if you show them a trick knife or handgun.
"But I'm hoping for it leading us to something more than just another safe box. I'd be very happy if that lovely, ornate piece ends up in the hands of someone with the authority to appreciate it."
"Like who?"
"Like whoever's running this organization. Which would give us somebody to deal with in the open."
"Sten, you are an evil man."
"You're just saying that to get in my pants."
"This is true. And I'd kiss you, except it'd be bad for discipline."
"Mine or the Bhor?"
"Yours, of course."
But she kissed him anyway.
Venloe tried to read the face on the screen. He could not. "Is that everything?" the man asked. "It is, sir."
It was so silent that Venloe could hear the carrier wave hum. "Do you have any suggestions?" After a pause, Venloe said, "No."
"Go ahead. We must consider all possibilities." The man on the screen touched, as if unconsciously, the center of his chest.
Venloe chose his words carefully. "When you briefed me for this assignment, I asked... about a fallback option."
"And I said I was not prepared to discuss that eventuality. I was not then, and I am not now. My policy is quite firm. Dr. Iskra is to be given the fullest support."
"Yes, sir. I apologize."
Again, silence.
"An apology is not necessary. I do not mean for my servants to be slaves. I want one thing very clear. Dr. Iskra is to be ruler of the Altaic Cluster. That is the primary objective. However... however, what you referred to as a fallback option cannot be ignored. Explore its possibilities and ramifications."
The screen went blank.
Venloe nodded in automatic obedience. And, even though there was no one to hear him, he replied, "Yes, Your Majesty."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Eternal Emperor listened thoughtfully to Sten's report on Dr. Iskra. He made no comment as Sten took each stone from the bucket and stacked it upon its miserable brother.
Sten told him about the student massacre. The proof that it was Iskra's work. The deliberate disinformation campaign to stir up war among the inhabitants of the Altaic Cluster. The lies Iskra had told to cover his campaign of terror. The mysterious attacks on Imperial personnel. The empty fortress. And much more.
Finally, he was done. Sten waited, hoping to see which way the wind was blowing.
"I assume," the Emperor said, "that your recommendation in this matter does not come down on the side of Dr. Iskra."
"I'm sorry, sir," Sten said, "but it's my job to tell you things you're not especially going to like."
"Quite right," the Emperor said. "Otherwise, you'd be as useless as all these fools I've got around me. One thing I do know, Sten, is that I can always trust you to tell me the truth—no matter how unpleasant."
"Thank you, sir. Now... if you'll allow me—"
"Hold on," the Emperor said. "No need to go further."
"I beg your pardon, sir?" Sten was truly bewildered. He was also unsettled by this new habit the Emperor had adopted of never looking him in the face. And those damned eyes. Moving back and forth as if they were active ball bearings.
"I said, no need to say more. I know what your recommendation is going to be. Unfortunately, I have to reject it.
"Iskra stays. You will continue to support him."
"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. And I hope you won't take this the wrong way—but I'd like to be relieved of my post."
The Emperor's eyes ceased their restless moving. Just for a moment. They bored into him like cold steel. Then the Emperor laughed. "I can see why you'd say that, Sten," he said. "You think I've lost confidence in you."
"Possibly, sir. But that's not for me to judge. It's just that... well, you need someone you can trust to carry out your orders."
"I've already said I trust you, Sten."
"Yessir. But I've already made it plain I disagree."
"True. However, agreement has nothing to do with it. These are my orders. You should also know that Dr. Iskra has asked me to have you replaced. I firmly rejected his request."
"Yes, sir." Sten couldn't think of anything else to say.
"And I told him the same thing I'm going to tell you. You're too close to the situation, Sten. Can't see the forest for the trees, as they say.''
Sten knew there was probably truth to this. He was not privy to the big picture. Unlike the Emperor.
"I still don't think I'm the best man for the job, sir. Although, I thank you for your faith in me."
"We've been through a lot together, Sten," the Emperor said.
"I know what you can do. And what you can't do. In fact, I believe I'm the better judge of your capabilities.
"Also, the matter with the Altaics has grown even more critical. If I were to pull you out, the bad publicity would be devastating. Now, maybe I was hasty bringing in Iskra. Although I still think he's the best of the poor lot of options I was looking at. Regardless. I've hung myself out with this man. It's vital that I am not embarrassed."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm counting on you, Sten," the Eternal Emperor said. "Perhaps more than I ever have before. Make it work. Do whatever you have to—but, make it work.
"Those are your orders."
"Yes, sir."
"And Sten?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Smile. Be happy. It's all going to come out just fine."
"Yes, sir," Sten said. He made his best salute, as the Emperor's image vanished.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Sten couldn't sleep. Every time he drifted off, the Emperor's face floated into view. He was haunted by those eyes. Eyes that were never still. Eyes that swept the edges of his conscience, netting Sten's secret doubts and hauling them in as evidence.
In Sten's nightmare the Emperor would pile up all those doubts into a writhing, eel-like mass. He would turn to Sten, face dark with anger. And those eyes would swivel for him. Sten knew if they ever came to rest, he was through.
Here they came now. Turning. Turning. Cutting a smoking path along the floor. Then they rose up, searching for his own eyes—to burn them out.
Sten gasped awake. His body was sheeted in cold sweat. He stumbled into the lavatory and dry-heaved into the toilet. He knelt there for a long time, feeling stupid for having such a silly nightmare—but frightened of returning to bed for another bout with the dream.
A soft rustle and the perfumed warmth of Cind.
"I'm okay," he said.
"Sure, you are. I frequently find perfectly healthy and happy people crouched on the bathroom floor choking up their guts."
"I'll be fine... in a minute."
"I know you will. Now, don't argue, bub. Or you'll be in for some real trouble."
She hauled him up, stripped him, and shoved him into the shower. Cold spray needled down, shocking him into full awareness. The film of sweat came off like old grease. Then the cold water turned to hot, steam billowing in clouds. Cind's naked form came through the clouds. She was armed with soap and a rough-surfaced sponge.
"Turn around," she said. "I'm going to start with your back."