Novel - A Confusion of Princes

by Garth Nix

  This disgusting, translucent material was roughly the consistency of snot. Highly oxygenated and engineered to be breathable, it broke down carbon dioxide and did a whole lot of other useful things. But to get the full effect, you had to be immersed in it and breathing the stuff.

  And as I discovered, if you have a normal human body, you definitely need a medical symbiote to keep you calm as the stuff slowly flows into nostrils, mouth, throat, and lungs. It hurt, and it felt like drowning, and even though I knew it was designed to be breathable, I just couldn’t believe it.

  Nevertheless, quite a few hours later, I was in the Kragor cockpit, in an Imperial flight suit, totally restrained by crash webs, and completely saturated and immersed in acceleration gel. Not to mention mildly sedated by the symbiote.

  Everything depended on my Psitek now. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t talk. I could fly the Kragor using direct Psitek commands, and I could communicate with Korker. At least I hoped I’d still be able to communicate with Korker after I launched. But my Psitek felt strong, so I was reasonably confident.

  Korker kept me updated on scan, but there wasn’t a lot to tell. We’d long since shot past the KSF fleet, and the pirates were just barreling in, without any tricky tactical maneuvers. There was a slim possibility that Korker’s stealth capabilities were hiding us, but it was more likely that they did not see me as an enemy, and thus saw no need to change their course or plan.

  I hoped this would give me another small edge in what was to come.

  I also hoped I would survive the launch. The point of greatest stress on my body would be when the singleship was launched by Korker’s slinging gravitor and at the same time went on its own gravity control.

  :Let’s just go over the plan one more time, Korker:

  :Yes:

  :As soon as we enter extreme effective range, you fire one salvo of kinetic slivers at the Lyzgro and launch the Kragor immediately behind. With the cloaking package, it should look like a defective missile. They’ll think it will get taken care of by the gravitic screen, so they won’t bother shooting. As soon as I’m in close effective range, I launch the Kragor’s slivers. I’ll be inside their screen by then, there’ll be nothing they can do, and the Lyzgro will be knocked out. At the same time I launch my sliver, you launch slivers at all the other ships. Without the Lyzgro’s screen, they also explode into little bits. Got it?:

  :Affirmative:

  It was either a brilliantly simple plan or a remarkably stupid one. Unfortunately the only way to discover which one was to carry it out. Most of it would depend on just how up-to-date the Lyzgro’s tek was. If their sensors could see through Korker’s cloaking and spoofing systems, they would see me coming, and though they probably couldn’t hit a singleship with a sliver, they had reality strippers, fusion beam cannon, and other stuff that certainly could.

  I also had to survive the brutal acceleration and high-velocity maneuvering long enough to not only pilot the singleship but coordinate the strike.

  :Fourteen minutes fifty seconds to launch:

  :Acknowledged:

  I wondered if there was anything else I should do, or order Korker to do. But I couldn’t think of a single thing.

  :Anomalous rayder message received “For Khem”:

  :Relay it:

  It was from Raine. Even though it was the ship relaying it to me via Psitek and so it was straight into my head, I could have sworn I heard her voice.

  “Khem. It’s Raine. I just got a message from Mother about what you’re doing, and how you came to be able to do it … and I wanted to tell you I don’t care who you are, or where you’re from, or why you came here. I know you’ll do what’s right. I love you.”

  :The message is looped. Do you wish to receive it again?:

  :No … but keep it. I may… I may want to listen to it again, when … if I get back:

  :Ten minutes thirty seconds to launch:

  I lay in my sea of goop and didn’t wonder what I was doing, or why I was doing it.

  I knew it was right.

  Eleven minutes later, I wasn’t so sure. Barely able to stay conscious, I had a terrible pain in my chest and guts, despite the symbiote’s efforts. The acceleration gel around me was stained pink with blood from my nose and ears and who knows where else, and I couldn’t tell if I still had any hands or feet since I couldn’t feel anything below my elbows or knees.

  On the positive side, my Kragor singleship was streaking toward the enemy at incredible speed, Null-space sensors had detected no launches toward me, and even better, one of Korker’s preliminary kinetic slivers had got through the Lyzgro’s screen and taken out one of the Leolekh transports already. Analysis suggested that many of the bits and pieces trailing along in the funnel-shaped cloud where it had been were people or bits of them. That transport and probably most of the others had been packed with ground troops. Many hands make light work of serious looting. If they got through, they would strip the Habitat bare, taking all useful tek, and they would plunder the world beneath as well, stealing all the crops, livestock, and stores, thus sentencing everyone they didn’t kill in the first place to a lingering death through starvation.

  My Psitek was also working, though it took a supreme effort to focus, to rise above the pain and the terrible sensation of being crushed to death. But I had no problem reaching Korker, and the singleship continued to answer to my mental controls.

  :Enemy launch: reported Korker. Simultaneously, I ordered evasive action and discovered that in acceleration gel, it is impossible to scream. I managed a mental one, though.

  A second later, we were struck by the passage envelope of a kinetic sliver.

  I knew it was only the envelope because I was still alive and the singleship was still sort of in one piece around me.

  But the drive had been damaged. Dozens of status reports flickered through my brain, all of them negative.

  I felt the pressure on my body lessen. We were still moving at an incredible speed toward the enemy, but the singleship was losing acceleration as the drive failed.

  There was other damage too. We were venting something, a trail visible to Korker. I pretty much knew what it was even before I checked, or Korker chimed it.

  :You are losing acceleration gel:

  :I know. Time to optimum firing position?:

  :Forty-four seconds:

  I knew, all right. I’d been here before, with Raine. My acceleration gel was my atmosphere, and it was going fast. Too fast to be survivable. No induced coma can help you survive a total lack of air. There had to be a biggish hole somewhere behind me, and all my precious atmosphere was spewing out of it.

  I really was dead this time.

  I just had to live long enough to make sure I took out the pirate flagship so Korker could take out the rest.

  It was a long forty-four seconds.

  :Screen perimeter passed. Launch:

  All my slivers flew, followed only seconds later by Korker’s.

  The singleship’s acceleration faded again a moment later. The pressure on my body eased, though the pain didn’t, and the feeling didn’t return to my arms and legs.

  But I didn’t care about that. All my attention was focused on waiting for the sliver impact, which came some three seconds later.

  The singleship and Korker reported at exactly the same time, a chorus inside my head.

  :Target destroyed. Lyzgro destroyed. Dyshzko 1 destroyed. Dyshzko 2 destroyed. Dyshzko 3 destroyed. Leolekh-class transports 1 through 10 destroyed. One transport severely damaged:

  So we didn’t quite get them all, I thought wearily. But I couldn’t do anything now. I was too tired, and everything hurt. I wanted to rest....

  But I knew I couldn’t yet, not quite. The task had to be finished. Raine and her people had to be protected.

  :Korker. Close and … destroy remaining transport. Pick up singleship. Carry on planned course … to Xinxri:

  My eyes were already shut. They had been all the time. But I felt a
darkness come as if I had squeezed my eyelids tight, a spreading darkness that brought with it a biting cold.

  I guessed I’d failed the test to become an Adjuster.

  But I’d passed the test for being human.

  So this is the very precipice of death, I thought. It feels different when it’s final.

  :Highness. Reach for the Mind:

  I think I tried to smile, though my face was frozen. It seemed appropriate that Haddad would be with me now, here at the end. Even if only as a figment of my imagination, the last gasp of electrical impulses in a failing cerebellum—

  :Highness! Reach for the Mind!:

  It wasn’t just Haddad. It was all the priests of my household, all my uncles and aunts. I could feel them reaching for my mind, trying to grab me and reel me in, all the way from that little observation station in the ring around the gas giant....

  They were actually in the system! I could connect!

  Dying, I reached out, and though I felt no buzz at the back of my head, the Imperial Mind was suddenly there, in all its cold glory.

  :Connection reestablished Prince Khemri <> and running. Check. Check. Save for rebirth assessment:

  22

  THAT WAS MY second death.

  As previously, the next thing I knew I was lying on a comfortable bed. This time, I had the brief feeling that I was emerging from some long, calm sleep, but it vanished as I came to full consciousness with a snap and instantly I was back in my augmented body, a flood of reports rushed through my head, and hard on the heels of these updates came the familiar presence of the Imperial Mind.

  :Welcome back Prince Khemri III <> You have been weighed in the balance by our Priests of the Aspect of the Emperor’s Discerning Hand and found worthy of rebirth <>:

  I sat up, and while I did not recognize the large and lavish chamber in which I found myself, I was greatly pleased to see Haddad and my original twelve priests, with Uncles Frekwo and Aleakh at the front.

  “Welcome back, Highness,” said Haddad gravely.

  “Where are we?” I asked. “The observation post in Kharalcha?”

  “No, Highness. We are at the Imperial Core. You were returned to physicality here. However, your household and I did indeed come in from the system Odkhaz, which you may know as Kharalcha.”

  I raised an eyebrow. The Imperial Core was a world essentially reserved for ceremony. Long ago the Emperor and the Imperial Mind might have been located here, but it was well known that this was no longer the case. Whatever infrastructure the Imperial Mind needed was spread across the Empire, and the Emperor—well, no one knew who the Emperor was, let alone where he or she might be at any given time.

  “How long was it this time?” I asked. “I mean, how long since I died?”

  “Four months and one day, Highness.”

  Four months. So whatever had happened at Kharalcha was long done, already beyond any intervention from me.

  “Did … did the pirates get through?” I asked.

  “The fleet that you engaged was completely destroyed, Highness,” said Haddad.

  I looked away from him for a moment to hide my emotion as best I could. Raine was alive! The Habitat wasn’t plundered … or at least it shouldn’t have been … provided Atalin hadn’t swung back again. I suppressed a surge of sudden fear.

  “What is the current status of Kharalcha?” I asked. “What happened after … after I died?”

  “As I mentioned, your household, including myself, returned to Imperial space almost immediately,” said Haddad. “However, knowing your interest, Highness, I have monitored system Odkhaz and can report that no further military engagements have taken place and that the system is on track to regaining its lost economic potential—”

  “Why am I here, at the Imperial Core?” I interrupted, as another thought struck me.

  “The Imperial Mind has announced that you are to be presented with the Imperial Star of Valor, and to be promoted to lieutenant commander in the Imperial Navy.”

  :I’m getting the Imperial Star of Valor?: I asked the Mind. The ISV was the highest decoration the Empire gave, and I certainly hadn’t done anything to be honored with one. :Why?:

  :Citation for ISV. On 272-4456 Prince Khemri III <> in command of obsolete vessel ISN Khorkrek on recovery and salvage mission encountered a pirate fleet of eighteen vessels including light cruiser of recent copy-tek intent on looting Imperial Protectorate Odkhaz. Prince Khemri III engaged the pirate fleet in a close action personally piloting obsolete singleship Kragor 2, destroying all the pirates despite being mortally wounded:

  “Imperial protectorate? Recovery and salvage mission?” I started to mutter to myself. What was this crap? And the pirates were only there because Prince Atalin had wiped out the KSF. I wouldn’t mind betting that the Lyzgro light cruiser clone had been a present from a helpful Prince as well.

  Why was the Imperial Mind treating what I did as a successful Naval action? And what was the Imperial protectorate about?

  :Query effect of Imperial protectorate status for system Odkhaz:

  :System Odkhaz directly reserved by Imperial Mind for future unspecified use. Off limits for Princes. No claims, no transit without specific orders. Imperial Survey watch post to maintain vigilance:

  That was odd. The whole Kharalchan thing was strange. But at least the system was relatively safe now, to some degree at least. Atalin could not go back to clear away the remnants of the KSF without direct permission of the Mind, and with the main strength of the Porojavian Co-Prosperity Collective destroyed, the pirates couldn’t do it alone. Maybe the long looked-for Confederation fleet might actually have turned up as well.

  Despite trying not to, I thought of Raine again. I felt a pang as I visualized her back home in the Gryphon ring, perhaps lying on the bed we had shared.... These thoughts were not helpful. I was no longer Khem. Khem the trader was four months dead, buried with the past. Prince Khemri was a few minutes into a new life. I simply could not afford this sentimental reverie. I dismissed the memory, locking it away.

  The past is another universe, and to all intents and purposes, Raine was dead to me.

  “The reception before the presentation will commence soon, Highness,” said Haddad tactfully, breaking into the silence. I realized I had been staring into some distant space. “Your valets are ready to dress you.”

  “All right,” I grumbled, climbing out of the bed. I jumped a little on the spot and shadow-boxed to reacquaint myself with my enhanced muscles and reflexes. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling to once again be superhuman.

  “What is the etiquette about assassination here at the Imperial Core?” I asked Haddad as my two mind-programmed valets entered with my ceremonial uniform, now with the red epaulettes of a lieutenant commander.

  “It is expressly forbidden, and the Imperial Mind is constantly witnessing,” replied Haddad. I nodded, suddenly noticing the familiar buzz at the back of my neck. “However, it cannot be totally discounted, so as always you must remain on guard. There is also another danger you will not be used to, Highness.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Princes at the Imperial Core are not considered as being on duty, so dueling is permitted between those of equal rank and those who do not hold rank in an Imperial service. There are many Princes here now, and with the abdication to come very soon, many see dueling as a means to bring themselves to the attention of the Emperor.”

  I knew that last was a figure of speech. No one knew who the Emperor was, or how he or she might be physically manifest in the Empire, because of course they could not go on as the Prince they had been. But they could have assumed any number of new identities, I supposed. In any case, as the ruler of the Imperial Mind, the Emperor could oversee anything, anywhere in the Empire where there was a Prince connected to the Mind. A number of notable successes in dueling would doubtless be noted by the Imperial Mind, and that in effect meant by the Emperor.

>   Now that I knew that it was possible to transfer a Prince’s consciousness into different bodies, I wondered if I had in fact already met the current Emperor and just didn’t know it. The Emperor might even have a number of different bodies and different identities....

  It was an interesting thought, but I dismissed it as I took my usual weapons from Haddad and hid them away before buckling on my ceremonial sword and putting on my hat. At least as a lieutenant commander I had a modest peaked cap instead of the ridiculous busby of the cadets.

  An overlay of the route from my chambers to Grand Reception Palace Eight appeared in my head, annotated with an etiquette summary. Apparently I was to join 999 other Princes in the reception hall of this particular palace for drinks before we organized ourselves into a single line by level of decoration and proceeded to the Award Chamber, where we would be given our medals by either Grand Admiral of the Imperial Fleet Itzsatz or Domain Governor Leshakh, depending on our service.

  Haddad accompanied me, a trusty and very welcome shadow. I realized that Haddad was in many ways the only one of my household whom I had always considered as a person, even before my Adjustment training. In some ways, he had a kind of similar place in my life as Alice had for Raine … once again, I had to stop myself thinking such thoughts. There could be no comparison. Haddad was merely my Master of Assassins, assigned to me and replaceable. It was a fault in me that he felt like something more, and I would have to suppress that feeling.

  Only Haddad left the room with me, but on the way out I met another twelve new priests who had been assigned to me with my promotion, and six more apprentice assassins.

  Unlike the Academy and my candidate temple, most of the Imperial Core was not underground. Or at least, the accommodations and public areas for visiting Princes were sited for aesthetic effect rather than for security. My rooms turned out to be in a small building of its own, situated in a charming park dotted with similar four-story houses built in a style imitating a region of ancient Earth that favored high gables and curved extensions thrusting out of multiple, stacked rooflines.