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Bomeer was silent for several moments, and seemed to wrestle with his guilty burden before he was able to continue.

“However,” he went on, “we’ve only proven that worm-hole travel occurred. It will be years before we can analyze the mechanics of how it works, even longer before we can put what we’ve learned to practical use. If ever.” He paused, then looked deep into her face. “I have made my official recommendation to the Academy that the investigation of this phenomenon be made their top priority. I wanted you to know this before you went into cryosleep.”

“I appreciate that, Academician…” Adela started to say, but was cut off when Bomeer held up his hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said softly under his breath, the sound reminding her more of a weary sigh. “I have fought the natural scientific growth of the Empire for so long that I can remember little else. But I fought the wrong battle. In attempting to keep the Empire from moving too quickly, to keep scientific development on what I thought was a safe and steady course, I succeeded only in battling myself.” He looked at her once more, relief in his eyes at having unloaded this personal burden. The smile returned to his lips as he added, “I am very tired, and I am through fighting.”

“Fighting against one’s self is the most wearying fight of all.”

“Besides”—Bomeer looked at her, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes—“I’ve seen the changes that instantaneous tachyon communications have brought to the Empire, and I must admit that the changes have been good ones. But imagine: to travel from one point in the Empire to another in the blink of an eye! I am forced to confess that the siren song of faster-than-light travel has captured me. Research. Discovery. The acquisition of knowledge. These are the things that first attracted me to science, and these are the things that will guide the Empire in the centuries to come as the wormhole is studied. Somewhere along the way I lost those things, but I have them back now—thanks to you—and I want to be a part of it all again. To contribute to the future, instead of merely maintaining the present.”

Again, Adela had trouble finding the right words to fit this surprising situation. She was about to simply thank him again, but was stopped by another series of insistent raps on the office door. She smiled politely at Bomeer in way of apology and turned almost automatically to the darkened terminal before remembering that it was useless.

“Excuse me a moment.” The door slid aside before she reached it and Stase immediately stepped inside, obviously agitated. There was someone standing behind him, but from her viewing angle she couldn’t make out who it was.

“Dr. Montgarde, I—”

“That won’t be necessary,” barked the man as he pushed Stase authoritatively aside. “I will speak with Dr. Montgarde directly.” Her secretary looked about ready to grab him and toss him forcibly out of the office, but Adela shook her head, dismissing him. Once Stase stood back from the doorway the uninvited guest allowed a broad, insincere smile to spread across his features, and his demeanor changed instantly as he dipped his head to her in just the slightest suggestion of a bow. She had seen him before, years earlier, and recognized his plastic smile almost immediately.

Oh, not now. I don’t need this now. “Poser, isn’t it?” Adela demanded angrily as she strode the rest of the way to the door.

He bowed slightly. “Dr. Montgarde, you honor me and my House by remembering—”

“Shut up.” She started past Poser for the reception area, but stopped when the man, utterly nonplused by Adela’s rebuke, entered her office and approached Bomeer.

“Good day, Academician.” Again, a short formal bow. “My Mistress will speak to the Doctor alone.”

Bomeer had barely begun to rise from his chair when Adela grabbed Poser’s arm with a grip that surprised even her and spun him around. “I’ll decide who stays and who doesn’t.” She flung his arm aside and enjoyed the sight of what was probably the first genuine expression of emotion the man’s face had revealed in years: stunned shock. “Now, if your Mistress wishes to speak to me, then she had better be quick about it. I plan to leave this office in five minutes.”

He made a feeble attempt to recover his composure as he almost scurried from the room into the reception area. Bomeer remained standing, but had difficulty hiding his amusement.

Poser returned almost immediately, his all-purpose smile conspicuously absent. If his Mistress had been upset by the information that she wouldn’t be speaking to Adela alone, he gave no indication of it. “Mistress Rihana Valtane,” he said simply, then quickly stood aside for her to enter.

The former Princess had changed little, it seemed, since the last time they had spoken more than four decades earlier. Her glowing copper hair, her poise and grandeur, the way she carried herself with absolute authority and, above all, her youthful beauty were all exactly as Adela had remembered them. Her outfit gave the appearance of being spun from molten gemstones, and was tailored in such a manner as to seem alive when she moved, if not an actual living part of her. The ensemble was completed with her signature sapphire earrings and necklace, the precious metal of their settings matching the bracelets on each of her wrists.

Adela said nothing, but led the woman into the room as Poser exited and closed the door behind him.

Bomeer approached a few steps and stood straighter when she neared, bowing deeply. “Mistress Valtane,” he said respectfully, “it is good to see you once again.”

Rihana walked past him as though he wasn’t there, and Adela understood now why she’d raised no objection to Bomeer’s staying in the room when she called: The woman had absolutely no intention of acknowledging the academician’s presence. She instead went directly to one of the two remaining chairs before the desk and sat, waiting for Adela to take her own seat behind the desk. Bomeer remained on his feet about halfway to the door.

Adela nodded her head curtly in a motion that was not quite a show of respect before taking her own chair. “It’s been a long time, Mistress, but not long enough.” She made sure her voice carried with it as much scorn and sarcasm as she could summon up, then added bluntly, “What do you want?”

“I want nothing but to give you a parting message. Something to think about while you sleep.”

“And what would that be?”

The former Princess smiled and shrugged nonchalantly, settling back into the chair. “I wanted to remind you of the cost of your dream. I know how long you plan to remain in cryosleep. There will be little left of what you remember when you wake up. Javas will be long dead, as will most of your friends and associates.”

“You’ve told me this before. I’ve not forgotten.”

“I’m glad to see that you have a good memory, but you are not the only one. I have a good memory, too.” Rihana crossed her long legs and smoothed the fabric of her gown. When she spoke again her smile had vanished. “I understand that you have become very close to your Eric. Well, remember this while you sleep, Adela: He murdered my son. I do not plan to forget.”

Adela felt a chill sweep over her at the thought of Rihana hurting Eric. She rose shakily, and found it necessary to lean on the desk for support. “You’ll do nothing to hurt my son,” she said forcefully, her words feeling like jagged ice in her throat. “I’ll see to it myself.”

Adela had expected Rihana to threaten the power of House Valtane against her, but when the woman gazed up at her over the bare desktop she did the one thing Adela never expected. She laughed. Adela shook her head in disgust at whatever it was in her words that had so amused Rihana.

“I swear it, Mistress,” she spat, her sudden fear replaced now with unbridled anger. “If I have to forgo cryosleep entirely, you’ll not get close to my son!”