Fortunes of the Imperium (41 page)

CHAPTER 36

“What more can I do for them, Parsons?” I asked, as we flew away from the prison complex. “They have touched my heart, especially the children. They are in a terrible fix.” The compartment of the transport shuttle was large enough that we sat at one end of the cabin, well out of earshot of the other passengers returning to the capital, including the large, white-furred attorney, Mr. Allisjonil, as well as Ms. Metcalf from Ambassador Galeckas’s office, who had been my escort from the city. “Every one of them professes their innocence. I cannot help but believe them. The Coppers were convincing, but it was the outrage of the Wichus that really make me believe that they have been used in some dastardly fashion.”

Parsons had no more outward expression than usual, but I felt that he had been moved by the sight of all of those decent people locked up in cells smaller than my walk-in wardrobe.

“It is distressing, my lord. All the more because the evidence is mounting that they are innocent.”

My heart, which had been heavy throughout my visit to that depressing place, lifted up and sang.

“You are certain?” I asked. “You were a trifle late meeting me at the prison, so I hoped there would be news.” I put my chin in my palm and looked up at him in expectation. “By the crackling energy around you, it must be good. Let me hear it.”

“I must confess, it merely added to the mystery,” Parsons said. “Far from finding a solution, we have a new enigma.”

“Tell me all!”

He hesitated a moment, then brought out the dull gray cube. I felt the air seal around us like an arm thrown reassuringly over my shoulders. Parsons closed his hand upon it.

“I do not wish to jump to a conclusion I cannot support, sir, but it would seem there was extensive tampering to the vessels of all of the accused. All of the nanites that run the purification systems on board each ship have vanished. To have one ship so swept clean could be explained by a programming error, but to have all in the same condition suggests an underlying cause. My tardiness came because we wished to reinspect each ship to make certain we had not missed any pockets of nanomachines. They are indeed all void.”

“What do you make of that? How does that connect with the weaponry found in the waste tanks?”

“At present all we have are theories. It is possible that the nanomachines worked on a molecular level to open the tanks, hold back the contents, make it possible for the contraband to be introduced, then reseal the tanks to look exactly as they did before. Nanites have been used for microsurgery and many other actions that require absolute precision. Then the nanites were evacuated from the ships, so no one could determine how the trick was done.”

“Those nanites would also have had to interfere with the cameras watching the landing bays,” I pointed out. “No one saw anything. As Ms. Copper just explained to us, someone or something is tampering with video pickups to conceal their nefarious deeds.”

“Indeed, sir. It was a most complex plot to place those items into the ships and must have included compromising the cameras. However, in this case, a trace was indeed left. The process seems to have taken
all
the nanomachines from the ships, not just the ones involved in the subterfuge. The smugglers caused the ships to gradually cease to function. In fact, two of them would not have made it all the way to Dilawe from Partwe without loss of life. It is a good thing that the ships were intercepted upon arrival in the Autocracy, or several people would have died.”

I gulped.

“That’s very odd. Surely the crews would have noticed the air was getting bad.”

“It is possible that the change was so gradual that it had not yet come to their attention, sir. Most of these ships are very old. The crews would be accustomed to odors and noises. But I fear none of them would have survived a return trip to the Imperium in that state, sir,” Parsons concluded. “Therefore, I must assume that they were unaware of the deficiency. None of them seems to be suicidal, not in previous examinations, nor in the opinion of the Uctu court service, nor my own observations just now. Otherwise, having accomplished the delivery of the illicit goods, they would complete the job and take their own lives. All the merchants that we visited this evening are eager to survive.”

“But negative evidence is not evidence,” I said, drumming my fingertips upon my cheek. “You can use it to speak to their state of mind in court, but naturally, we don’t want it to go that far, and it might be misinterpreted by an Uctu magistrate. How infinitely frustrating.” Still, I felt the stirrings of hope. “Are any of these pilots capable of visiting this odd plague on the others? Could one be responsible for all of them?”

“It would seem not, sir. It would require an advanced knowledge of engineering and resources that appear to be out of reach of simple merchant spacers. While several of them have degrees and experience in many fields, I saw no biographical history that suggested any of the prisoners are responsible. If one is working with the culprit, we have yet to determine that. I must also stress that opportunity to introduce the programming could not have been done in advance of arrival on Way Station 46, and the responsible party would not know if they would reach the station before all of the others. The insertion must have happened there.”

I brought my fist down and pounded upon my knee.

“Then who is responsible?”

Parsons made the merest suggestion of a head-shake.

“That I do not yet know.”

“How was the hostile programming introduced?”

“I do not know that yet, either.”

“Well, I shall design circuits for all of them. One to a cell, I think, except for the Copper children. I think they would like one each, don’t you?”

Parsons nodded austerely.

“Yes, indeed, sir. Once you have designed them, you may send the schematics to the repair facility that is attached to the impound station. I am certain they would enjoy the change from the day-to-day maintenance on ships and station. I have spoken to one of the fabricators, and they are in danger of job burnout, sir. You would be doing them a service by giving them a task that may be seen as pleasurable.”

I beamed at him.

“By heaven, what a grand idea. What is the name of your connection? I will send my designs to him or her.”

“Why not give me the file, my lord? In your name, I will be able to coax a more rapid response from the workshop than even if you were to ask yourself. I must go there in any case, to accompany the crew on further investigation of the impounded ships. I will also see to it that they are delivered with your compliments, along with whatever other goods you see fit to gift them.”

“Comets, that’s a good notion,” I said. I worked while I talked. “You take another burden off my shoulders, Parsons. You always do. But don’t forget the fruit jellies. I want Ms. Copper to have those as soon as possible. She has been a rock for those children. I think it’s a great pity that she has been too frightened to undergo the habilitation therapy. Whatever cleared the nanites out of her ship has taken them from all the merchants as well. That is another reason that the magistrate must find them innocent.”

“We will have to learn the protocol for providing gifts to those under detention, my lord.”

I glanced across the cabin and caught Ms. Metcalf’s eye. Like any good diplomat, she read my intent to converse. She rose from her place and made her way to us. Parsons subtly returned his small device to his pocket. Both of us stood to receive her. I took her hand cordially.

“Ms. Metcalf, I wish to thank you again for aiding me in visiting the prisoners. I warn you that I will want to go back again in a day or so. My responsibilities to them will not be discharged until I see them all set free.”

“Of course, sir,” she said. I offered her a cushion on my couch, and she settled onto it. Once she was seated, Parsons and I resumed our perches. “It’s natural for you to take an interest in them. Unfortunately, we have to accede to local laws and customs. The trial is scheduled for three days from now, the day after the accession feast.”

“Then I will be there,” I declared. “They’re innocent. If I may testify as a friend of the court, I will. In the meantime, I would like to provide them with some small gifts, some home comforts that they might have been missing.” I brought out my viewpad. “For example, Captain Nuro of
Sword Snacks IV
has not had any beer since his arrest.”

“We can’t give them beer,” Ms. Metcalf said, openly horrified.

“Why not?” I asked. “What harm can it do?”

“Well, it makes them noisy,” she said.

“They’re Wichus,” I said, reasonably. “They are already noisy. Ms. Metcalf, these citizens of the Imperium are under threat for their lives. A little leavening of the mood will go a long way toward helping them to be in the best possible state of mind when they must go to court. I know that my emotions would be in turmoil, and at worst, madam, this may be the last beer they are able to enjoy.”

I knew I was cruel to employ such dire emotional tactics, but it worked. Her face went still, but I was accustomed to trying to read the concealed screen that was Parsons. I could see the wheels turning in her mind as though her thoughts were printed in large type on her face.

“Very well, sir,” she said at length. “If you will arrange the gifts, I will make certain that the prisoners will receive them.”

I seized her hand and shook it with great vigor.

“You are most kind, Ms. Metcalf.”

She retrieved her fingers.

“It’s nothing, my lord. We wish to render you any service we can.” She rose, and we with her. “I must send an inquiry to the Bureau of Corrections to learn how to bring in such presents. Let me get back to you.”

“You have my connection,” I said.

She went halfway up the ship, to an empty seat, and began to speak urgently into her pocket secretary. Parsons and I resumed our places.

“How did you progress with Her Excellence?” Parsons asked.

“Oh, we are going to be very good friends,” I said. “We talked of countless matters, cabbages and kings, and whatnot.”

“Did you inquire as to the reason for limiting ships coming into the Autocracy?”

“No,” I said. “She was rather resistant to answering any questions of import, but perhaps in time. My hours were not wasted, though. My heaven, I had no idea as to the smouldering resentment that still exists within the Autocracy for the Imperium. The memory of the last battles still persists. And she has only been on the throne two years. Shojan still seems a bit raw around the feelings, and he has reigned in the Imperium for twelve years already. The friendlier I can persuade the Autocrat that we are, the better it will be in the long run for relations between our two peoples.”

“That is a most penetrating insight, my lord,” Parsons said, and I could not find a trace of irony or sarcasm in his tone. “But what of the matters at hand? The sooner that the embargo can be lifted, the better. And the well-being of those whom you have taken under your wing is in jeopardy.”

I sighed.

“I will continue to try to ask Visoltia, in between reading her stars and the lumps on her head. But, Parsons, I feel that my answers will not come from her, at least not directly. As you are undoubtedly aware, the person with the greatest power is often not the one whose title is the most grandiose or lofty, but a more humble toiler. In that person, you will find the one who actually Gets Things Done.” I did my best to make the capital letters audible.

“Her secretary?” Parsons asked.

“No.” I fetched a deep and regretful sigh. “The very angry gentleman whom I recognize as being my mother’s opponent in the last space war.”

“Yes, the High Protector. I recall him from years past. He looks remarkably unchanged.”

My eyebrows rose upon my forehead.

“Were you aboard my mother’s ship in that final battle?” I asked. “I don’t remember her telling me that.”

“No, sir. But I was involved.”

“I will bet that you were,” I said, glancing out of the window of the shuttle as the sound of the hover engines changed from a smooth hum to a meaningful rattle. “But I will await the unfolding of that story on another day. I see the landing pad of the Raffles ahead of us.”