The gleaming white body of the Victory swept down the boulevard toward them. Not high in the sky, but just below the roofs of the high-rise buildings that lined the street, a looming bulk never meant for the heart of a city.
Close to the barricades the howl grew louder, and the warship went into a hover on McLean Drive, close enough for the mob to get a good long look at the Imperial emblem on its sides.
This was the Imperial presence—mailed fist and looming overlord in one.
"My God, would you look at that," a Jochi chemical worker breathed.
"Maybe now, justice we get," a Bogazi said.
"Wait up! What's he doing?" another awe-stricken Jochian said, absently tugging at a Bogazi's sleeve.
The Victory settled still closer, until it was no more than twenty meters overhead. The crowd huddled under the dark cloud of its body. Engines stirred, then the ship slowly began to move forward, straight down the broad avenue.
The two sides of the conflict gaped after it for a moment or two. Then they turned to stare at one another. Makeshift weapons tumbled to the ground from hands and grasping limbs.
Above them, the black sky was suddenly bright blue. Sun painted lacy clouds a multitude of colors. The air was fresh and tasted of spring.
"We've been saved," a Jochian said.
"I knew the Emperor wouldn't abandon us," said another.
Someone shouted from a rooftop: "The ship's heading for the Imperial embassy.''
The spell broke and the mob, laughing and shouting in relief, rushed after the ship.
The Victory sailed slowly along just above the pavement. Below it, the street was suddenly jammed from side to side with a sea of beings. Bogazi and Jochians and Suzdal and Torks, all mingled together, joking and slapping one another on the back.
Thousands of other beings leaned from the windows of the tall buildings, cheering the Victory and its majestic flight.
All over Jochi—in fact, all over the entire cluster—beings stopped what they were doing and rushed to witness the arrival of the Emperor's man.
By the time the ship reached the Imperial embassy, there were literally millions of beings surrounding its broad, gated grounds. And there were billions more watching on their livies.
All hostilities had ceased.
Inside the Victory, Sten quick-brushed his clothes. Cind ran her fingers through his hair, pushing strands into place.
Alex looked at a livie screen and the enormous crowd waiting outside. "You're a bleedin' Pied Piper, young Sten," he said.
"Don't say that," Sten said. "He got paid off in rats. Or house apes, and I don't know which is worse."
A crew member tickled the port controls. The port swung open. Sten felt the fresh breeze on his face. He heard the thump of the ramp settling to the ground.
"Okay," he said. "Now let the bastards come to me."
He stepped out into a torrent of cheers.
BOOK TWO
CAT'S CLAW
CHAPTER NINE
"I've never been one to kill the messenger bearing bad news," the Eternal Emperor said.
"Yessir," Sten said.
"In this case, however," the Emperor continued, "it's a good thing I've known you such a long time."
''Yessir,'' Sten said.
"You get the point that I am not pleased?"
"I do, Your Majesty," Sten said. "Absolutely... sir."
The holo image of the Emperor wavered as Sten's boss crossed to the antique drinks tray in his study and poured himself two fingers of Scotch.
"You have something to drink there?" the Emperor asked a bit absently.
"Yessir," Sten said. "I thought it best to haul along my own supplies." He took the hint, hooked a bottle of Scotch off the desk of the previous ambassador, and poured himself a drink.
The Emperor mock-toasted: "I'd say confusion to my enemies—but if they get any more confused we'll all go into the drakh head first."
He drank anyway. Sten followed suit.
"You know there's no way I can keep this from getting out?" the Emperor said. Sten didn't answer. It had not really been a question.
"There's already reports in the media hinting at a building crisis in the Altaics. Wait'll they find out how bad things really are.'' The Emperor refilled his glass, thinking. "What really hurts is I've got some crucial agreements in the works. Agreements hinging on strong confidence in the Empire. The slightest sign of a hole in the structure I've rebuilt is going to put those agreements into decaying orbits. And... when one fails... then a lot of other things come into doubt."
Sten sighed. "I wish there were some way I could paint a more hopeful picture, Your Majesty," he said. "But this is probably the stickiest assignment I've ever handled for you. And it's not really begun."
"I'm sensible of that, Sten," the Emperor said. "The Khaqan just picked a lousy time to die." He sipped his drink. "You are sure someone didn't help him along?"
"I've gone over all the reports," Sten said. "And it's pretty clear how and why he died. It was an aneurysm. An artery blew a cork. The only thing I 'm not sure of is the circumstances.'' Sten was thinking of Menynder's claim about a dinner party honoring the Khaqan. "Personally, I don't think it matters that much. If there was some kind of conspiracy in the works... well, from what I've seen it wouldn't be all that unusual."
"I agree," the Emperor said. "In fact, if there was no sign of a conspiracy, I'd be damned suspicious. Fine. Let's leave the circumstances alone—for the time being."
"Yessir," Sten said.
"What we have to do," the Emperor said, "is get this thing under control fast. If the whole Empire is going to be watching, I don't want anyone to think I'm going to be less than firm about this. There are going to be some who'll say I screwed up. There are going to be others who'll say I've lost my moves... since I got back. And then there'll be those who are just hoping I've gotten soft so they can stir up trouble. So, with that in mind, I want to set the tone of how to handle things right from the start...
"Which is this: If anybody moves we don't like, smack them down. We install a new government. Immediately. With my full support. Once this is done, there will be no objections. Not in my earshot, anyway. And, if there are loud or violent quarrels with my decision in the Altaics, then I want them silenced. Fast. With whatever it takes. I will suffer no humiliation in this!" Slam went the Emperor's hand on his desk. Even through the holo speakers it sounded like a shot.
Abruptly the Emperor stopped steaming and gave Sten a thin, unfelt smile. "I want to be damned sure both my enemies and my friends know I will not be fooled with."
"Yessir. I... agree, sir..."
"Do I hear a silent 'but' in your agreement?"
"Not with your overall point, Your Majesty. Not at all. This is no time to show hesitancy. However, when you briefed me on this place, you weren't exaggerating about how contrary these people are. Even if we use a big hammer to nail this together, I think we'll still need to be real careful how it goes together."
Sten hesitated, trying to read the Emperor's face. It was blank. But not necessarily angry blank.
"Go ahead," the Emperor said.
"As you know, sir, I've talked to all the leaders—at least the beings who say they are the leaders. Until I get some better analyses, based on immediate HUMINT, I'll just trust in my instincts: This thing can split a lot more than four ways. Clot, it already has. When I arrived two Jochi factions were firing on each other at the spaceport."