The nearby guard cleared his throat and Javas pulled away slowly, regretfully. The guard nodded across the stage and Javas turned, hands clasped behind his back, to see Fain approaching.
“Commander?”
Fain bowed his head briefly to Adela, then addressed the Prince. “Sire, your father is arriving.”
“Thank you.”
Fain bowed once more, then hurried to the rear entrance, which, Javas could see, was now bordered on both sides by members of the Court. He smiled at the guard and gave him a curt nod of thanks, then walked across the stage with Adela on his arm.
Academician Bomeer yawned.
They sat in two formal rows at the apron of the stage, a few meters back of the now-transparent shielding that curved invisibly around the edge. There were five places in the first row: Emperor Nicholas sat in his powerchair at center stage, flanked on his right by the Prince—now standing as he addressed the assembly with introductory remarks—and Dr. Montgarde. To the Emperor’s left was Fain’s chair, then his own just to the Commander’s left.
Bomeer paid as little attention to what the Prince was saying as he did to the dozen people sitting in the row behind them. He glanced idly at those seated in the second row of chairs just in front of the closed velvet curtain. Plantir Wynne was there, as was the Emperor’s nursemaid, Brendan. One of the scientist’s team was there, as well as several other members of the Court whose faces he couldn’t immediately place—or particularly care about.
Bomeer returned his attention to the assembly itself, disturbed by the importance of what he’d seen. The auditorium was filled nearly to its eight-hundred-seat capacity with the representatives of the Hundred Worlds and their guests, which was something Bomeer had never expected. And except for a smaller section at the rear of the house where a number of representatives not present on Luna were attending holographically, nearly every one of the attendees had made the long trip to be here personally as the Emperor outlined his foolish project.
Although the time for open discussion at the Council would not come until all the presentations had been made, Bomeer’s discreet investigations had already told him that support for the plan was strong among the worlds. He had found a number of representatives who openly opposed the venture, but was unsure if their opposition could be counted on.
As the Prince spoke of opportunity, advancing technology and benefits to all members of the Empire, Bomeer scanned the audience as the representatives listened in rapt attention to Javas’ words.
“… it will be a time of expansion, a time of science,” the Prince was saying. “Each world, giving of its resources and talents, will see itself grow in proportion to its contribution. And you may wonder: What of those worlds of lower technological background? What of the frontier worlds and new colonies just beginning that may have less expertise to spare as they work to shape and build their own homes?” Javas’ eyes slowly swept the audience as whispers and nods passed among some of the representatives who apparently had been thinking just that.
“These worlds, too, will share in this endeavor. The frontier worlds, while sometimes poor in technology, are rich in materials essential to the successful completion of the most important effort ever undertaken by the Hundred Worlds. These worlds, in return for the construction of ships and manpower, can expect more help in establishing a home than any world has received since the beginning of the Empire…”
No wonder there is such a positive feeling among the worlds, Bomeer thought. Cooperation is easy to acquire when it’s paid for.
The academician looked back out over the audience once more, attempting to tune out the Prince’s words, but was again impressed by the assembly. The representatives had been seated, Bomeer realized, according to the distance from Earth of their home planets. Each delegation was identified by a smaller banner attached to its row displaying the crest or flag of that planet. Those from the nearer worlds sat in the front rows, those more distant in the upper portion of the auditorium. The representatives from Earth, Luna and the Orbitals sat in the first row itself.
Bomeer looked at the Earth delegation, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw a tall bearded man sitting with the group. My God, what is he doing here?
As he stared at Johnson the man turned sharply and his eyes met Bomeer’s unexpectedly. The Earther’s feral, wolf-like eyes narrowed and—was the man smiling at him?
The time has come, the Emperor thought as he listened to his son. Ignoring his own tiredness, he took pride in the way the Prince worked the crowd, in how the representatives of the Hundred Worlds hung on each of his words. You will make a fine leader.
Javas had finished speaking and had come to his side to assist him as he prepared to address the auditorium. He glided the powerchair forward about a meter in front of the others and placed his hands firmly on the arms of the chair. With Javas steadying him at his elbow, he pushed himself to his feet. He saw the concerned look on his son’s face, and smiled to reassure him that the assisters on his legs, as well as the back brace that enabled him to walk, were working fine.
His heart pounded at the effort of each step, and he felt a bead of sweat running down his scalp as he concentrated hard on keeping Brendan from reading the pain caused by the pressure the brace was putting on his back. He turned to his son and embraced him, then regarded the auditorium once more and waited for the applause to fade.
He raised a hand to silence them, then dropped it quickly to his side when he felt it shaking. A pain rose in his chest and he concentrated even harder on suppressing the information his implants would now be trying to relay to the bio-readouts Brendan was monitoring.
“Members of the Hundred Worlds,” he began, and as his voice echoed through the auditorium sound system he envisioned his words flowing out, not just to those seated before him, but leaping across space itself to the very reaches of the Empire. “Members of the Court; citizens and friends, all. We embark today on a journey, the likes of which make the Empire itself seem small by comparison.”
The speech he gave was not memorized, but there had been no need to. He knew what he wanted, needed, to say. There was additional applause periodically as he spoke, and the Emperor took advantage of each pause in the address to catch his breath and refocus his concentration. At one point, his knees began to shake almost imperceptibly in the assisters Brendan had fitted to his legs, and he felt a weakness flow over him like a wave. At that moment, he sensed Brendan probing him and clamped down even more tightly on his systems to hide what he was truly feeling.
“In just a few moments… A young scientist with a vision will address you in a few moments.” His will was drifting and, realizing that his words were becoming rambling and repetitive, he tried to pay closer attention to what he was saying. “Her ingenuity, her drive and her dreams are exemplary,” he went on. The words came now with great difficulty and a light-headedness swept over him briefly before he managed to force it away. He was sweating freely now and, no longer able to control his hands, kept them riveted at his side to hide their shaking. “But without… the cooperation of all of us, working together as one, her dream is nothing. And that, I think, is… the real strength of the Hundred Worlds; that each member world, strong in itself, is made stronger by… by the association of others.”
There was applause again, and the Emperor felt his son’s hand on his shoulder. Javas was standing by his side, concern evident in his eyes. The Emperor looked at the other members of the Court seated on the stage. Tears glistened in Adela’s eyes and she was plainly frightened. Fain fidgeted in his seat, looking helpless. Even Bomeer appeared uncomfortable as he chewed absently on a lower lip. Javas looked pleadingly at him, then turned to Brendan seated just behind the powerchair and demanded, “Is he all right?”