The emperor nodded with satisfaction. ‘No doubt our retaliatory attacks have taught them what’s in store for them. Also they must have gained some intelligence concerning the might of our armada.’ He frowned. ‘Haight discovered something about the distorter, too, but we shall have to wait until he arrives here for his full report.’
Aton and the princess were now mingling with the courtiers surrounding the throne. Boldly Aton stepped forward to confront the emperor and prince.
‘Your Chronotic Majesty!’ he said in a loud voice.
Both men turned to look at him. Philipium II appeared cold and supercilious, the emperor merely startled.
For one instant Aton looked into his ruler’s tired, feverish eyes and knew that his mission stood no chance of success. Behind those eyes was… nothing. The emperor was dead inside. There was nothing but bigotry, prejudice, set patterns of thought. Even if Aton were to persuade him of the truth of his story, which seemed unlikely, nothing at this stage could possibly cause him to alter his decision.
Aton glanced from him to the younger Philipium, and again from him to Arch-Cardinal Reamoir, who was hovering as always by the emperor’s side. As before he found that his new perceptions laid bare their inner natures. In Philipium II there was only a blind arrogance that was a sort of later version of his father’s unctuous religious humility. And in Reamoir there was ambition of truly shocking proportions: ambition that was prepared to sacrifice whole worlds, to cheat, lie, and kill in the pursuit of personal and religious aims.
He stood, tongue-tied and white-faced, as the awful realisation struck him.
‘What is it, young man?’ Philipium said sharply. ‘Who are you?’
‘Captain Aton of the Third Time Fleet, Your Majesty.’
‘Then you should be helping defend the frontier. On leave, are you? Why?’
‘…The action for Gerread, Your Majesty,’ Aton said after a momentary effort.
‘Ah, yes. Take courage, young man. Eventually we shall regain Gerread, together with all the other possessions that have been lost since.’
An official slid through the circle and murmured something in the emperor’s ear, who then turned and began a conversation with someone else. No one took any notice of Aton. His rude intrusion had been forgotten.
Princess Mayora accosted him as he slipped away. ‘Well, I don’t think much of that!’
‘I suddenly realised how foolish my course of action was,’ Aton said ruefully.
‘Rather belatedly, don’t you think?’ The princess eyed him with growing inquisitiveness. ‘What was your petition? Can I help?’
‘I think not, Your Highness.’
Awkwardly aware of his bad manners, Aton made a perfunctory bow and walked stiffly away. He felt desolated. Here was the centre of the empire and everyone around him was hell-bent on destruction. Impending calamity was tolling like a great bell.
It seemed that his mission was impossible.
Or almost impossible.
Hours later the court chamber was deserted and in half darkness. A shadow slipped through that darkness, pausing and listening to the sleep of the huge palace.
At length Aton stopped before the dully gleaming gold sheet that hid the Imperator.
He had spent the intervening time wandering through the inner sanctum or just sitting brooding in one of the libraries. No one questioned his presence. It was assumed that anyone who had managed to enter the sanctum had a perfect right to be there.
‘Imperator,’ he called in a hoarse voice, afraid to speak too loudly in case he was heard from outside the chamber. ‘A loyal servant seeks audience.’
He had no idea whether the machine-emperor would respond to any voice but Philipium’s. But it was worth a try.
Nothing happened, and he called again. ‘Imperator. The empire is in danger!’
Miraculously the golden panel withdrew towards the ceiling. From the dark cave came the whine of an engine and the rumble of castors. The Imperator rolled majestically into view, a strange sheen playing over its matt surface. A scarcely visible light seemed to flicker between its four corner towers.
‘Who has dared approach?’
The thrilling full-bodied voice, even though at low volume, filled the hall. The experience of facing the Imperator alone was strange and frightening. The machine radiated charisma. Aton, conscious of its majestic relationship with the empire, felt small and insignificant.
‘I am Captain Mond Aton,’ he announced. ‘Late of the Third Time Fleet.’
The Imperator hummed and clicked. ‘Sentenced to death for cowardice and dereliction of duty. Placed at the disposal of the Courier Service. Dispatched to the receipt of Commander Haight on the thirtieth day of the fifth month of this year.’
‘The facts are as you state, Imperator. However I am still alive, as you can see.’
‘Poor little tool of broken time…’
‘Imperator, I have just returned from the Hegemony,’ Aton said. He launched into his tale, describing Commander Haight’s experiment, their meeting with the Hegemonic ministers, and his subsequent discovery of his new powers. Throughtout, the Imperator made no interruption except for the continuous humming that swelled and receded in volume.
Finally, with complete frankness, Aton related the intransigence of the emperor and of the advisers who surrounded him. ‘You are mightier even than the emperor, Imperator,’ he said. ‘Command that the empire make peace. Draw back from this suicidal course.’
‘All must be as it has been.’
Aton puzzled over the words. He had heard that the Imperator rarely expressed itself in plain speech.
‘The enemy of the empire is the enemy of mankind,’ said the Imperator. ‘Fight, Aton. The power is yours alone.’
‘Imperator, I do not understand you. Can you not explain what I am to do? Your meaning is not clear.’
‘We live in dreams and walk in sleep. All that is real is unreal.’
Suddenly Aton heard footsteps behind him. Approaching out of the gloom came a young man wearing a short cloak of deep purple. The face was that of an Ixian, but unlike most of that brood, the eyes had a steady percipience and the man’s whole bearing an uncharacteristic lack of vanity. As he came closer Aton recognised Prince Vro.
‘An incredible story!’ said the prince.
‘You heard?’
‘Forgive my eavesdropping,’ the other said with a shrug. ‘I merely happened to be passing. It was a scene I could not resist. Yes, I listened to every word.’
A rumble caused Aton to whirl around. The Imperator was withdrawing into its chamber. The golden panel closed and left them in silence.
‘I must say I think you’re wasting your time petitioning that machine in there,’ the prince told him affably. ‘Nobody has ever got any sense out of it, and in my opinion never will for the simple reason that our much-vaunted Imperator is quite insane.’
Aton must have looked shocked, for Prince Vro laughed softly. ‘Well, is it any wonder, my friend? Infused with the brains of all the emperors! If my father is anything to go by, it must consist of lunacy piled on lunacy.’
He clapped Aton on the back. ‘We are somewhat exposed here. I was on my way to supervise the readying of my time-yacht, in preparation for a certain romantic quest. Come with me. Afterwards we can talk in my quarters.’
With a last despairing look at the Imperator’s dwelling, Aton followed.