Imperium: Revelation: Book Two in the Imperium Trilogy

by Paul M Calvert

  Already, she had a much better appreciation of what Adam had gone through when on Earth. Earlier, on the way to his yacht, she’d met several of the Palace retainers who looked after his family and had been confused by their reaction when she’d said Hi to them. They’d looked up and she only understood when Vimes explained to her she’d used the word for high instead of the one for greeting. Adam hadn’t helped, chuckling to himself and giving every indication that he had been thinking “see how you like it,” before introducing her and explaining she was a friend from off planet.

  Still, her new found abilities more than made up for any short-term inconvenience or embarrassment she might be feeling. The sheer volume of information available to her was breathtaking and not a little daunting.

  “Adam, how do you avoid losing yourself in all this information or simply not bothering to remember anything and letting your implant do all the work?” she asked him, just as they crossed the planet’s terminator line between night and day, noticing how few points of light were visible now they were orbiting its night side.

  “Good question.” He thought for a moment before continuing, checking with Vimes to make sure his information was correct, “Firstly, only a very small number of people in the Empire can afford, or are allowed access to implants like yours. Normally they are reserved for the nobility or Imperial Navy officers of command rank. The majority of people have the standard model which allows them to interact with the global data network of their home planet, to send or receive basic messages, identify themselves for banking or interacting with equipment, that sort of thing. You might have noticed how you can detect emotional content when you talk to mother or me. This is because we are linked via Vimes. Everyone else’s implant doesn’t allow that sort of intimacy.”

  Karen was about to ask another question but kept quiet as he continued.

  “The implants are activated from an early age, around nine or ten, depending on the maturity of the person. Up until then, children have to learn and converse normally. This provides a good grounding for when they get older and the implants are activated. Also, social mores and customs on most planets in the Empire dictate that using the spoken word is a matter of good manners. As to losing oneself in the data or not bothering to learn anything; that comes down to personal preference. In the past, many people tended to overly rely on their implants, but as this affected their ability to interact properly with others, they tended not to have relationships or children. Call it evolution in action.”

  “What about hackers or people trying to use the implants to control people,” she asked him, forgetting to get the information for herself, “what safeguards are there?”

  Adam checked again with Vimes. “Because the implants are organic and grown within the body, they are immune to Infiltrator Programmes or hacking. But, as with all things, even on your old world, information is the key. Control access to that and you control how and what people think.” He could see Karen looked a little confused.

  Alexander continued, “From what I could see on Earth, people obtained news from only a few sources, for example, television, newspapers or radio and these are either controlled by the State or a few individuals. None of them could operate without the Government’s approval. What you refer to as social media is a relatively new phenomena where you come from, yet despotic governments already seek to control it alongside their hold over traditional news sources. That’s what I meant, Karen. Control the sources of information and people will only see and hear what you want them to.”

  “Is that what your family does, Adam, control the media so people only know what you want them to?” she asked, still unsure exactly what power and influence his family wielded.

  “To a degree, yes. We work through the nobility to ensure the vast majority of our people lead good lives. The nobility is held responsible for upholding Imperial Law and face stiff punishments should they abuse their power. For the masses, the illusion of free will is more powerful than the real thing.”

  Karen fell silent, deciding to investigate for herself, using Vimes, then realising that no matter what she learnt, every source of information had to remain suspect, given the control the State and Adam’s family held over it. With nothing more she could do for now, Karen tried to compartmentalise it away for another time and drew her attention back to the view.

  Adam angled the yacht out of orbit and accelerated away from the planet and out towards deep space, the gentle yet irresistible acceleration forcing her into the padded seat.

  “Are we heading for your moon?” she asked.

  “No, Karen, it’s over a quarter of a million miles away and would take us around an hour and a half to get there at this acceleration, and to be frank, there’s little to see except for a few small cities and a military base. Its gravity is too low for maintaining a habitable atmosphere on the surface, so everything is underground or in sealed domes. No, I want to show you something that I hope will make you feel a little better about the position you find yourself in. It’s only a few minutes away.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Just wait and see, it’s very impressive,” and with that, he went quiet.

  Karen tried asking Vimes, but he wouldn’t divulge anything either, saying it would spoil the moment, so she focused instead on the panoramic starscape. To one side sat the systems sun, blazing yellow hot, it’s glare automatically reduced by the viewscreen. To the right, she could see the bright galactic lens, covering at least half of the screen. Karen’s newfound knowledge confirmed Capital was situated towards the middle of the galaxy, half-way between its centre and edge. Unexpectedly, the acceleration ceased, returning her weight to normal.

  “Are we there yet?” she asked, unable to resist, hoping Adam would get the reference and only a little disappointed when he didn’t.

  “Almost, keep watching, I’ve asked for a favour and General Parmenion has agreed. I think he’s pleased to have my mother back and helping him look after things. Now watch.”

  Suddenly, as if someone had switched on Christmas lights in a darkened room, all around them appeared hundreds of huge ships, now brightly lit and shining in the dark of space, where before there was nothing except the stars. Adam’s yacht coasted between two of them, gigantic battleships, ringed with much smaller auxiliary vehicles which reminded Karen of remoras hanging onto and following sharks around as they swam. Vimes pointed out to her the different types of ship, Carriers, Interdiction Frigates, Light and Heavy Cruisers, the list went on. All around and for as far as she could see, the gigantic ships hung in space, their lights shining brightly against the dark backdrop.

  “Wow, that’s impressive,” was all she could say before they all suddenly vanished, replaced again by just the distant stars. “They are ours, I take it?” she said, only half-jokingly.

  “Of course, that’s the Home Fleet. Mother is nominally in charge of it, but when it’s in close orbit like this it falls under General Parmenions remit as part of planetary defence. Out beyond our moon’s orbit, it’s the responsibility of Admiral Dixon,” his voice betraying to Karen more than a hint of pride.

  “Isn’t it dangerous to give away their position like that?” Karen asked, “especially so now, due to the rebellion you told me about?”

  Adam looked at her and smiled, pleased she seemed to have a good grasp of tactics. “Good question. Yes, normally the fleet would never give away its position like this, but since the Jump Point destabilised, the entire solar system has been swept for trouble and nothing was found. You can take it as read that when Parmenion thinks something is safe, it is.”

  “What now, Adam?”

  “That’s up to you,” he replied, “we can visit one of the ships for you to have a look around or head back to the planet and visit a city, or even go for a walk in the Palace gardens. Whatever you prefer.”

  “City, I’d like to see the capital city again, please.”

  “Hang on then,” he said, swinging the ship around in
a tight arc, checking with the fleet to make sure he would avoid any interaction with the wall shields of cloaked ships. “It won't take us long to get back, about twenty minutes. I’ll have Vimes sort out an itinerary for us and arrange for a bodyguard.”

  “Do you always have a bodyguard?”

  “No, not normally, but as these aren’t normal times it makes sense to be careful. Duke Frederick announced my death so there will be a lot of curious people and the Marines will be a reminder for them to keep their distance.”

  “Perhaps the city isn’t such a good idea after all,” she replied, not liking the idea of too much attention. “Can we do the walk in the woods instead?”

  “No problem. I’ll drop us down at the Marine barracks and we can take a tube to the Palace. Actually, we can double up as there’s something there we can do there today instead of tomorrow.”

  Intrigued, Karen nodded, and watched as the planet, already looming large in the viewscreen, began to grow as they closed with it. “Will I ever get used to this?” she asked herself, hardly believing what she was seeing and where she was seeing it from.

  Vimes showed Karen how to use her implant to tap into the ship's communication systems and she watched closely as Adam piloted them to land in a far corner of the huge landing field near the Palace. The Marine barracks were massive, squat buildings and she learnt that the living quarters were underground, deep in the planet’s mantle. Dozens of transport and other sundry ships dotted the landing field and she could see supplies being moved on and off many of them. Ranks of armoured Marines were clearly visible, waiting to enter a transport, which Karen thought looked to be at least four times larger than the biggest aeroplane she had ever seen.

  “Oops,” commented Adam, as a slight bump indicated they had landed, “I must be a little out of practice.”

  The metallic harness holding him in the seat retracted and Adam got up, beckoning Karen over to follow him. Her straps didn’t retract and she tugged on them uselessly, calling out to Adam, “A little help here please?” indicating at the straps.

  He looked at her for a moment, then tapped his head, signalling her to use the straps. “You’ll get used to it, Karen. Soon it will become second nature.”

  Feeling a little silly at not remembering, Karen instructed the seat to release the straps, then had a few words with Vimes. “You could have reminded me.”

  “Then you wouldn’t learn, would you?” he responded tartly, his voice in her head sounding amused. “It needs to become second nature for you and embarrassment is a good aid to remembering something. Anyway, I thought you didn’t like the idea of giving up your privacy.”

  “Adam was right, you can be an annoying so and so, Vimes,” she thought back. When no response was forthcoming, she shrugged to herself and followed Adam out of the control room, over to the yacht’s exit.

  Outside, the ship had extended a set of steps down to the landing field, where a platoon of Marines and an officer was waiting for them to leave. Two ground vehicles, one far larger and more utilitarian looking than the other, waited behind them. Karen and Adam walked down the steps, hand in hand, at which point the officer approached them, saluting and introducing himself.

  “The Quartermaster is awaiting you both, please follow me,” he said, leading them to the smaller of the vehicles. He sat in front, and guided the vehicle towards the nearest building, several hundred yards distant. Looking over her shoulder, Karen could see the larger vehicle fall in behind them, no doubt carrying the other Marines. Behind them, Adam’s yacht had already lifted off again and was climbing rapidly under heavy acceleration, now it was no longer encumbered with its frail human occupants.

  In a matter of moments, they arrived at their destination and Karen struggled to know just how to open the vehicle's door, reminding her of when Adam was faced with the same problem back on Earth. A quick question to Vimes and she had the answer; as with the seatbelts, opening the door was simply a thought away. The Marine officer walked with them towards the building and she could see reliefs carved into the stone, running the full length of the building. The architecture style was a curious mix of the familiar and completely alien. Some parts reminded her of the Victorian penchant for ornate, intricately carved stone and cast ironwork that graced almost all of their public buildings, whilst others looked ultra-modern and futuristic. That said, it blended together well and gave off a reassuringly solid feel.

  “We’ll wait for you outside, your Highness, Ms Mcleod. Please confirm when you are about to leave and we will escort you back to the ship,” the officer advised, nodding towards Karen at the end.

  “No need, Lt. Jameson, we will take the tube back to the Palace when we are finished here. Thank you and your men for your time. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”

  Lt Jameson hesitated for a split second, obviously checking with his superiors, then nodded and bade them farewell, walking back to the ground vehicles.

  “Is it like this all the time?” Karen asked, thinking the security was a bit over the top.

  “No, far from it. This is the worst I can ever recall. Normally, I used to be able to do pretty much as I pleased, but since the attempt on Mother and now that Father has gone missing…well, I suppose this is something I have to get used to.” Mentioning his father made Adam realise that unless they heard from him soon, the reports of his death would gain credence and, if it turned out to be true that he really was dead, then he would be expected to take over the Crown, something he felt totally ill-prepared for.

  Inside the building, it was much cooler than outside, but not unpleasantly so, just a welcome change. The air seemed crisp and sweet to Karen and the pine smell she’d become used to since arriving was noticeable for its absence here. Without having to consciously formulate the question this time, information on why the air was different entered her mind, almost on a subconscious level and she was impressed at how quickly she seemed to be getting the hang of some aspects of the implant. They entered a long, wide space, reminding her of the entrance hall to the Natural History Museum in London, but instead of dinosaur skeletons and stuffed animals, there was a collection of military memorabilia on stages and podiums, all looking as if they could spring to life and fight at a moments notice. Karen found she didn’t even have to formulate a question in here, as simply looking at a plaque seemed to bring forth data, so she knew that the fifteen-foot tall bipedal machine to her right was a Dreadnaught fighting suit, used last century and the central exhibit was a third-century land cruiser. When she looked away, so did her knowledge. Confused, she stopped and looked back, only to find the information came back when she let her gaze rest on the plaque again.

  “What’s the matter, Karen?” Adam asked, walking back to her, noticing she had stopped. Following her gaze as she kept turning her head back and forth, he suddenly understood her problem.

  “Ah, I understand.” He sent her a private message, “You can switch off the automatic acceptance of information. It’s commonplace in museums and similar places and is used as a means to impart information without having to ask for it. Sorry, I completely forgot to warn you. It’s much worse in shopping areas where it’s used like your TV advertising, but you can switch it off like this...see? After a while you will get completely used to it; in the same way as you hardly notice advertising hoardings when you walk pass them. Your brain filters them out for you.”

  “Wow… I so have to stop using that word, Adam,” she replied, smiling, “but it is so cool! Where to now?

  “Just over there,” he pointed, “through these exhibits and then a tube down to the workshops below us. Come on,” he said, pulling her gently along.

  The vertical tube ride was uneventful and, if not for the opening doors revealing a completely different scene to the one she’d left moments earlier, Karen would have sworn they hadn’t moved. In front of her was a kindly-faced man, who nodded and gestured to them both that they should move inside. He turned to Adam.

  “Highness,
everything is ready. I’ve been waiting for you to come visit for a long time.” He turned to Karen. “And this must be Ms Mcleod,” extending his hand for her to shake it, “welcome to my workshop. My name is Flower, Graham Flower and I understand you are unfamiliar with powered armour,” the comment more of a statement than a question. “Please come this way.” He walked over to a raised blue dais in the middle of the room, which was bathed in a subtle orange glow.

  Following him, Karen took stock around her. The room was surprisingly bare, just an ordinary looking chair in one corner next to a large, horseshoe-shaped desk with several strange looking objects on it, one looking partially disassembled. The far wall was obviously a screen of some kind, for it swirled with pale pastel colours in a pattern that was quite soothing. The others were light grey in colour with a hint of texture to their surface.

  “Powered armour? Please, will you tell me what we are here for? I want to know. Now,” she thought at Adam, making sure the imperative was transmitted too.

  “Yes, powered armour. We are being fitted for our own personal suits of powered armour. Not the standard issue that you’ve seen on the Marines, but one that’s unique to you,” he thought back at her, “this is a first for me too as I’ve only ever practiced in the standard ones.”

  Karen tried to digest the news. “So, basically, we are at the tailors and I’m going to be measured for a bespoke suit. So, why has he been waiting a long time for you to visit?”

  “Yes, just like a tailor, but infinitely more complex than that. As to why he’s been waiting, Graham is the family armourer and for some time I’ve stayed clear of the Palace, so haven’t had either the chance or, to be honest, the inclination to come here.” He noticed the questioning look on her face at that comment. “It’s personal but I’ll explain all about it to you later, I promise.”