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"The proceedings of this Tribunal are now officially open."

Such a simple sentence, but it brought a gasp from the crowd. Everyone knew that from that moment on, every word uttered was a direct challenge to the privy council's authority.

"We are present to hear evidence concerning grave charges brought against the governing body of this Empire. The fact that these proceedings are being held under armed supervision to protect us from this same body is to have no influence on any member of the Tribunal. All three judges have agreed and sworn to this.

"My first official act of these hearings is to invite the presence of any and all members of the privy council to answer or refute any evidence brought against them.

"This is no empty act on my part. I personally plead with each and every one of them to respond...

"Now, for the reading of the bill of indictment:

"Members of the privy council, you have been charged with conspiracy to murder the Eternal Emperor.

"In your absence, a not-guilty plea will automatically—"

The rest was buried in the screaming, shouting reactions from the crowd. It took three more hours to regain control.

By then, there was not much time left before the Tribunal recessed for the day. The only action of real note was that the three judges drew straws to determine who would speak for the privy council, and who for the prosecution.

Queen Mother Apus—who despised the Kraas—ended up their fervent official supporter. Sten was amazed how quickly and ably she took up the task, despite her hatred for the twins, as well as their colleagues. Rivas, who was partial to Sr. Kyes, became the privy council's prosecutor. His voice became instantly tinged with bitter irony whenever a speck of evidence was brought forth against the council.

Sten would have loved nothing more than to become one of the crowd, to witness the events and see justice fairly done, just like any normal being who was fortunate enough to be in this place.

But that, as the Bhor might have said, was not to be his fate. "At the forges of the gods," Otho had once said when deep in his stregghorn, "it is our curse to always be the hammer when they strike." 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Poyndex was not a being of temperament. Long before, he had put away anger with his childhood toys. He left elation behind with adolescence. In fact, there was not one emotion he did not have under control. Ambition was the only fruit he nourished in this garden of the middle ground. Achieving power was his only pleasure.

So as his colleagues on the privy council raged at the "shocking and spurious allegations" of Sr. Ecu's Tribunal, he knew fear for the first time in his life. He saw the power slipping away.

The instant he saw the liviecast of Sr. Ecu's announcement of the murder charges, he believed it was true. The reaction came from the gut. As he rushed to the hastily called meeting of the council, the surer he became. It became clearer to him as he entered the enormous building the council had constructed as its headquarters. The odd, towering tree that grew up through the central courtyard seemed withered and ailing. For Poyndex, who was not a being taken to symbolic thought, the condition of the rubiginosa still seemed to bode ill.

It just made more sense that the assassination of the Emperor was not the act of a lone madman. A conspiracy was far more likely. And who had the most to gain from such a plot? The answer became all too obvious as he entered the meeting room.

Everyone was in a bellowing rage. The Kraa twins were purple with fury. Lovett kept pounding on the polished meeting table, screaming for bloody action. Malperin was letting loose an odd stream of obscenities at the awful lies being told.

When he saw the violent reaction, Poyndex knew his instincts had been on the mark. He was looking at the beings who killed the Eternal Emperor.

Why else all that outrage? If the charges were false, then it was merely a ploy by their enemies. The council members were all experienced businessbeings who had dealt with such mudslinging all their professional lives.

He also noted their faces when they were in between bellows, gasping for breath. He did not imagine the guilty looks of fear they exchanged. The capper was the Kraa twins. In their anxiety, they immediately switched roles. As they consumed the usual huge quantities of food, the skeletal one stopped her endless trips to the fresher. Instead, the obese one became the twin who was constantly heading off to vomit.

That's when the fear struck him. He had only just achieved his lifelong ambition. As a member of the privy council, Poyndex had reached his dream of great power. He knew he could swiftly consolidate and strengthen it even more as he learned which buttons of manipulation to punch. Poyndex had never had any thoughts of being a great tyrant, a single ruler. He liked staying in the shadows, where it was safer. Also, like Kyes, he had no love of the trappings of office and was content to let his fellow members shine in whatever sun pleased them. Poyndex knew he could get what he wanted far more easily as the being who gave favors, rather than took them.

Before the Tribunal's charges were announced, Poyndex had only just begun to recover from the blow of the loss of his mentor. When Kyes—or the gibbering thing that had been Kyes—was brought back from his mysterious journey, he knew he had lost his main supporter in any contest of wills with the rest of the council.

But, if anything, his colleagues became more dependent on him. They listened closely to his cool advice on all matters, not just those involving the military or intelligence, but on Imperial policy as well. There was no talk of filling Kyes's post with a new council member.

Now that he thought of it, their reaction to what had happened to Kyes was also very odd. They took it quietly—mildly, almost. They asked no real questions and hastily arranged for the poor creature to be cared for in a top-secret military hospital for the insane. Actually, they seemed relieved. Poyndex thought it was because there was one less guilty party who could tell the tale.

As the privy council struggled to come up with a counterattack, Poyndex knew the first thing he had to do was cover his ass. It was apparent, no matter what the outcome, that these beings were doomed. It was not important if they destroyed the Tribunal and its allies. The charges would eventually bring them down.

Poyndex was determined that he would not go down with them. So, as his colleagues debated, he started rummaging through his bag of survival tricks.

The Kraas wanted to fire fleets out in all directions. Every system vaguely involved with the Tribunal would be crushed and garrisoned with Imperial troops. Lovett and Malperin shouted approval. Poyndex waited until some of the steam went out before he spoke.

"I share your outrage," he said. "Although I am not listed by name in these awful lies, I consider an attack on any single member an attack on us all. But we still have to face reality. There simply isn't enough AM2 to accomplish a tenth of what you are saying."

His words were greeted with sober silence. What he said was true. They began narrowing the scope of the operation, bit by bit, Poyndex subtly coaxing them on. Finally it was decided there would only be one target: Newton. A crack fleet would be sent, and all surviving parties—if any—would be hauled back to Prime World for punishment. Malperin cautioned that the troops might not be all that loyal, considering the recent military purges. Poyndex knew that she also was worried that the assassination charge itself would spark a revolt. It was a very guilty statement, one that the others quickly took up. As much as possible, only intensely loyal beings would man the fleet.

Before agreement was reached and the fleet sent, Poyndex raised a purposeful warning flag—for the official record.