The Dreams of Andromeda (The Imperium Chronicles Book 4)

by W. H. Mitchell

  "What do you remember?" Doric asked.

  Martel took a second or two, but the memories slowly emerged from his foggy mind. "I remember somebody shoving a bunch of Lotus in my mouth. Can't say it tasted good..."

  "You overdosed," Doric said. "We thought you might never wake up."

  "Well, I'm awake now," Martel replied, "unless this is another dream."

  "It's not," Doric said. "Lady Candice and Mister Munge rescued you and brought you here."

  Candy finally spoke, "It was really all Munge's doing."

  Martel's eyes fell on her as if seeing her for the first time. "Was it?"

  Candy's face flared crimson. "Yes."

  "They got your gun back too!" Henry exclaimed, pointing helpfully at the nightstand where Maxwell lay like a polished cannon.

  Martel sat up in bed. "I guess the band's back together..."

  "We should let him rest," Doric said. "Come on, Henry."

  Visibly disappointed, Henry obeyed and, along with the others, headed toward the door.

  "Lady Candice," Martel said, "if you don't mind, I'd like you to stay."

  Candy stopped in her tracks while the others left more rapidly than before. Henry took a last look at her before closing the door behind him. Cautiously, she came closer to the bed.

  "Yes?" she said.

  "I guess I should thank you for telling Munge where I was," Martel said.

  Candy smiled. "Yes."

  "Although I wouldn't have been there if you hadn't set me up," he finished.

  Candy's smile disappeared. "Yes."

  "How much do you owe Jollux?" the detective asked.

  "Too much," she replied, her eyes refusing to meet Martel's. "With interest, I could never pay it off on my own."

  "So, he asked you for a favor?"

  "He asked, but it's clear I had no choice. He could ruin me..."

  Martel's brown eyes grew dark.

  "Those men were going to kill me," he said. "A pretty big price for the value of your reputation."

  "I know!" Candy said. "I was so worried! That's when I went to your office and talked to Dolores. She's the one who said Mister Munge could help."

  “Well, remind me to give him a raise after Lord Maycare pays me," Martel replied. "You know your boyfriend hired me to find out who sabotaged his racing sled."

  Candy's complexion, which had been bright red, now drained away, becoming as pale as the sheets covering Martel’s bed.

  "I know it was you, Lady Candice," Martel went on. "The only question is which one of us is going to tell Maycare."

  "He'll leave me," Candy said.

  "Probably," Martel replied. "Wouldn't you?"

  Candy started crying.

  "Yes," she answered. "I'm a terrible person!"

  Martel steeled his heart, but seeing her tears made him regret being harsh.

  "Listen," he said, "I've done a lot of awful things. Things that haunt my nightmares and things I may never atone for, but you can't change the past. All you can do is be a better person and hope it evens out somehow."

  Candy glanced up. "Do you really believe that?"

  Now it was Martel's turn to look away.

  "Yeah," he said. "I have to..."

  After the last unsuccessful vote of the Imperial Conclave, Lord Tagus III had demanded all representatives of the Five Families remain on Lokeren, and for once Prince Richard agreed with him. During that time, the prince stayed mostly in his quarters, the furnishings and amenities even more luxurious than Lady Veber's, reflecting Richard's status as the son of the emperor.

  He lingered in the living room while the nurse finished feeding his son, Mason, in a side chamber. When she emerged, the nurse handed the baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, to the prince who quickly sent her away so he could be alone with his boy. In the rich light coming through the window, Mason's face had the same judgmental gaze as his mother.

  "It's all right," the prince said. "We'll be headed home soon enough."

  A few hours later, Prince Richard entered the great hall where the conclave was taking place. The round table in the middle elicited both excitement and a sense of dread in his mind. The members of the conclave had voted twice now without a resolution, and the prince was not hopeful today would be any different.

  Shortly after the prince took his place at the table, Lord Tagus arrived as well, although without Lord Groen in tow. Both men exchanged scowls before ignoring each other entirely for several minutes.

  "Where are those imbeciles?" Tagus remarked finally.

  "I was wondering why Vincent didn't show up with you," Richard replied. "Was he done licking your boots?"

  Tagus snickered at the thought before collecting himself.

  "He's probably chasing after Olivia," he said. "He has no chance, you know. She's obviously out of his league..."

  "True," the prince said.

  At that moment, both Lady Olivia Montros and Lord Vincent Groen entered the hall together. Lady Veber followed them moments later and ordered the doors shut.

  After everyone had sat down, Lady Veber brought the proceedings to order.

  "I have once again assembled the conclave," she said, "so we can have another vote."

  "Unless you're going to pull a rabbit out of your hat," Tagus sneered, "we're just wasting our time."

  "As a matter of fact," Lady Veber said, "I do have something new to share."

  "Really?" Prince Richard asked.

  "Assuming the original nominations still stand..." she continued while noting the nods around the table, "I would like to nominate someone as well."

  "You do?" Tagus and Richard replied simultaneously.

  Lady Veber drew herself up in her chair and took a long breath.

  "I nominate Jack Groen," she said.

  Tagus and the prince looked at each other as if to say Who?

  The main doors opened and a young man with blond hair and blue eyes, still in his teens, entered and approached the table. He looked both surprised and a bit bewildered.

  "Who the devil is this?" Tagus growled.

  "In fairness," Lady Veber said, "although his last name is Groen, by blood he is actually from the House of Tagus."

  "The hell he is!" Tagus shouted. "I've never seen him in my life!"

  "Nevertheless," Lady Veber went on, "he is your father's son and your half-brother."

  Tagus stood up and, as was his habit, slammed his fists on the table. "This is an outrage!"

  "To be honest," Prince Richard said, "I agree. Traditionally, no one would think to nominate a half-blood to be emperor."

  "Traditionally," Lady Veber replied, "a member of the sitting emperor's family does not nominate himself, either."

  The prince gave Lady Veber a foul glare, nearly matching the one Tagus was giving her.

  "What proof do you have that this boy is my relation?" Tagus asked.

  Lady Veber motioned to her servants who placed datapads in front of each person at the table.

  "As you can see," she said, "a paternity test and a DNA scan all confirm that Jack Groen is the son of Lord Tagus II."

  She then added, "By way of Lord Robert Groen's wife, Lady Josephine."

  "That's a lie!" Tagus shouted, his face bright red. "He would never—"

  "He did," Vincent finally spoke. "I hate to say it, but it's true."

  Deflated, Tagus paused to catch his breath and sat back in his chair. "I don't believe it."

  "Regardless," Lady Veber said, "we will now vote on the nominations."

  "I think we should postpone for the time being," Prince Richard suggested.

  "I disagree," she replied, "and as the head of these proceedings, I will cast my vote first." Gesturing for Jack to come forward, Lady Veber put her hand on his arm. "I vote for Jack Groen."

  "So be it," the prince replied grimly. "I vote for myself."

  "This is madness!" Tagus roared.

  "What is your vote?" Lady Veber asked.

  "Myself obviously!" Tagus said, turning to
Vincent Groen beside him. "And the Groen family will vote for me as well."

  "No," Vincent replied. "We will not."

  "What?" Tagus asked.

  "I watched the testimony of the man who killed my aunt and uncle," Vincent began. "Your father ordered them killed to keep his misdeed a secret. He even wanted his own baby murdered. It wasn't enough that your house keeps my family under their thumb. You had to murder us too!"

  Tagus, his mouth slightly ajar, was speechless for the first time in his life.

  "I also vote for Jack Groen," Vincent said.

  Lady Veber went on, "There is only one more vote to be cast."

  All eyes, including those of Jack Groen, fell on Olivia Montros. In her red dress, she returned their stares with an air of arrogance.

  "I deserve to be empress," she said proudly. "It was my family's turn after all." She flashed a mischievous grin at Vincent who smiled back. "Still, I like the thought of a Groen on the throne, even if he's really a Tagus...

  "I vote for Jack Groen," she said.

  "With three votes," Lady Veber said, "Jack Groen has been elected by the Imperial Conclave. He will be the next emperor of the Imperium!"

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few days had passed, and Thomas Martel felt he was well enough to leave the Maycare estate. Mostly, however, he just wanted a drink at the Sous-Sol. A gravtaxi later, he was descending the steps and pushing open the door to his favorite dive bar.

  Red, seeing Martel come in, appeared unaware the detective had been gone.

  "Did you hear the news?" the bartender asked gruffly.

  Martel mounted a bar stool. "I've been in a coma..."

  "They elected a new emperor," Red went on, pouring a whiskey. "Some kid, apparently."

  Martel accepted the glass Red offered and took a drink.

  "Good for him," Martel replied.

  Red refilled the glass.

  "Hey," he said, "are you still going to jail for killing that Irishman?"

  "I already told you I didn't kill him," Martel said with a scowl. "Anyway, all the charges were dropped."

  "Good to have friends in high places, I guess," Red replied.

  Martel raised the glass. "Yeah."

  "Oh right, I think Louis wants to talk to you."

  Getting up, Martel wasn't sure if the wobbliness in his legs was due to the whiskey or the coma. He steadied himself against the bar and came around to Red's side before knocking on the door to Louis' office.

  "Entrez," a voice said.

  As soon as the door cracked open, the heavy odor of fish assaulted Martel's nose.

  "It smells like a fish market in here—" he started.

  Louis wore rubber boots and waders with suspenders pulled over a thick turtleneck sweater, along with a red wool cap. Since Louis lacked visible ears, a pair of wire-frame glasses was taped to the side of his face.

  "The sea, once it casts its spell," he said in a heavy accent, "holds one in its net of wonder forever."

  "What?" Martel asked.

  "People attack the sea," Louis replied. "I make love to it."

  "What do you want, Louis?"

  The bar owner rolled up the sea chart that had been lying on his desk and gave Martel a thoughtful look.

  "I worried pour vous," Louis said.

  "Worried about what?"

  "You, Monsieur Martel."

  "I'm fine," Martel replied.

  "I can't help but feel—how do you say—responsable for sending you to Monsieur Kid."

  "I don't think that's how you say it," Martel replied, "but I don't think you're to blame. A lot happened after I saw Kid."

  "Bon," Louis said. "And this business with the Lotus?"

  "The news says Warlock Industries came up with an antidote," Martel replied. "The government is handing it out to the addicts."

  "An antidote, you say? How à propos..."

  "Yeah," Martel said, his brows creasing. "It was, wasn't it?"

  "So you do know French, mon ami!" Louis replied, his eyes widening until one of the earpieces came unstuck.

  Martel scratched the back of his head. "Maybe a little."

  Lord Maycare was speaking to someone on his datapad when Jessica Doric entered the media room. Seeing her, Maycare signaled for Doric to stay until his call was over. The face of a man wearing a panama hat appeared on the datapad's screen.

  "I don't know what to tell you, Ducky," Maycare said.

  "But Devlin," Ducky replied, "I've been banned from the country club and they won't let me into Mudderfield Downs!"

  "You were selling chems—" Maycare started.

  "I wasn't selling chems!" Ducky protested. "I was giving them away!"

  "Well..."

  "My masseur at Zahmetli Hamami gave me an even rougher massage than usual and told me never to come back!" Ducky said. "I think he might have broken one of my ribs!"

  "Did you sell him Lotus?" Maycare asked.

  "No, but I gave him a great deal..."

  "There's really nothing I can do, Ducky," Maycare replied.

  "But I've run out of Lotus and I can't get any more!" Ducky said. "I haven't slept in days!"

  Maycare's expression softened.

  "I'm sorry about that," he said. "There's an antidote apparently. Maybe that would help?"

  "I don't want the antidote, Devlin," Ducky said. "I want Lotus!"

  "I'm sorry," Maycare replied. "I can't help you."

  While Maycare ended the call, Doric noticed something protruding from under a couch cushion. She gave it a pull and found herself holding a pennant for the Boneyard Bruisers.

  "I guess Candy will want this back?" she wondered aloud.

  "Blood ball," he replied. "What an awful sport."

  "You seemed to enjoy it," Doric said.

  "Only when I was watching it with Candy," Maycare replied. "Something about the blood lust in her eyes..."

  Doric dropped the pennant on the couch. "So, the two of you are officially over?"

  "That's right," Maycare said, glancing at the datapad still in his hands. "You know, Jess, I'm beginning to think some of my friends aren't what they seem to be."

  Doric made a visible effort not to say I told you so.

  "Yeah," she replied instead.

  "But, if anything," Maycare went on, "I've learned who my real friends are."

  Doric felt her cheeks redden. "Thanks."

  "Through all of this, Henry has been a constant rock of support," Maycare said without irony.

  "What?"

  "Sometimes I don't know what I would do without him."

  "Henry Riff?"

  "Yes, of course," Maycare replied. "In fact, give him a raise. He's your subordinate, isn't he? You should really be on top of this, Jess..."

  "But—"

  "Just put the paperwork on my desk."

  "You don't have a desk," Doric said.

  "I have a study, don't I?" he asked. "I'm sure there must be a desk in there somewhere... You know, Jess, sometimes I just don't think you're paying attention."

  Doric began taking deep breaths while clenching her fists.

  "Yes, sir," she said calmly, and left the room.

  When Prince Richard arrived at the Imperial Palace after returning to the planet Aldorus, he was met by an army of servicebots carrying crates. Like worker ants, the robots moved containers down the corridors to gravtrucks waiting at the palace entrance. The prince narrowly avoided getting squished between a crate and the doorway as he went inside the emperor's private residence. There he found his father, wearing only a robe, pointing at items he wished packed up.

  "Over there," the Emperor said. "Yes, that one too..."

  "You didn't waste any time," Prince Richard remarked.

  "No time like the present!" his father replied cheerfully.

  "You realize some of this furniture comes with the palace," Richard said, seeing an antique armchair being hauled away. "It's not yours to take."

  Hands on hips, the emperor let his robe slip open, all
owing Richard to see more than he would have liked. "Nobody's going to miss a few chairs."

  "And here I thought you’d be upset with the conclave's vote," Richard said, standing to one side so a servicebot could pass by.

  "Not a bit! I'd say it went better than expected..."

  "A child emperor is your idea of a good thing?" Richard asked.

  "He won't be ruling alone," the emperor replied. "I've already appointed Lady Veber as Imperial Regent. She'll advise him until the boy turns eighteen."

  "I wasn't aware of that," Richard admitted. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

  "It's better than what you had in mind."

  The prince frowned. "I did what I thought was right."

  "Don't we all, my boy!" his father said with a chuckle. "Don't we all!"

  "Either way, I don't trust Lady Veber."

  "Rebecca?" the emperor replied. "She's dependable and intelligent, and she killed a Tagus so she can't be all bad..."

  "You really think Lord Tagus will accept the conclave vote, especially after you made his father's killer the regent?"

  The emperor blew a raspberry, drawing a disapproving look from the prince.

  "He hardly has a choice," the emperor replied. "Especially with the Groen family backing the decision. As far as I'm concerned, that boy Jack has more solid backing than I ever did, or most of my predecessors for that matter."

  Richard nodded. "I suppose that's true."

  "Of course it is!" the emperor bellowed. “Anyway, how's my grandson?"

  "Good."

  "Glad to hear it! I plan on spoiling him rotten!"

  "Well, I just wish Lilith was still alive to see him grow up," Richard said.

  "True," the emperor replied. "You were always such a good boy yourself... and a good son."

  Taken aback, Richard was struck silent for a moment.

  "Thank you," he said finally.

  "Think nothing of it!" his father said. "Now, try to be useful and grab the end of this sofa."

  Eyeing the couch doubtfully, the prince asked, "Is it yours?"

  "It is now!" his father replied.

  Inside the Embassy Hotel in the West End, Lord Winsor Woodwick and Lord Radford Groen were eating brunch at the Grove restaurant. Thanks to the Groen family's newfound celebrity status, the two men had been seated on the raised tier overlooking the other patrons. Complimentary mimosas in fluted glasses sat on the table.