The young man's face darkened. He walked across the spacious room, brandy goblet in hand, and sat down on the wall couch before he spoke.
"Just what I told you, my lord. I expect to prove that my father's mind has been tampered with—that he is not responsible for the decisions that have been made in his name—that he is going to lose his position and his reputation and his career for something that he would never have done in his right mind—that he has been the duped pawn of someone else."
The colonel walked over toward the couch and stood over the young man. "Someone? You keep referring to 'someone.' Ever since you asked me to help you, you've been mysterious about this someone. Whom do you suspect?"
Senesin looked up at the colonel for a long moment before he answered. Then: "I suspect the Emperor himself," he said, half defiantly.
The colonel raised his finely-drawn brows just a fraction of an inch, as though he hadn't known what the answer would be. "The Emperor? Hannikar IV? Isn't that a little far-fetched?"
Senesin shook his head vehemently. "Don't you see? Legally, the Emperor is powerless; the Throne hasn't had any say-so in the Government for over a century—except to sign state papers and such. But suppose an Emperor came along who wanted power—power such as the old Emperors used to have. How would he go about getting it? By controlling the Government! He could slowly force them to give him back the powers that the people of the Empire have taken so many centuries to obtain."
The colonel shook his head. "Impossible. Not even the Emperor could control the votes of the whole File for that purpose. It simply couldn't be done."
"Not that way; of course not," the young man said irritably. "But there is a way. It's been used before. Are you up on your history?"
"Reasonably well," the colonel said dryly.
"How did Julius Caesar get dictatorial powers? And, after him, Augustus? Rome was threatened by war, and then actually engaged in it, and the patricians were glad to give power to a strong man."
"That was in a state ruled by the few patricians," the colonel pointed out, "not in a democracy."
"Very well, then; what about the United States, during World War II? Look at the extraordinary powers granted to the President—first to stop a depression, then to win a war. What might have happened if he hadn't died? Would he have gone on to a fifth and a sixth term? How much more power could he have usurped from the hands of Congress?"
The colonel wondered vaguely what history texts young Senesin had read, but he didn't ask. "All right," he said, "now tie your examples up with His Majesty."
"It's very simple. By controlling the mind of the Prime Portfolio, the Emperor can plunge the Empire into war with the Gehan Federation. Once that has been done, he can begin to ask for extraordinary powers from the File. If he has a few key men under his thumb, he can swing the majority of the File any way he wants to. Don't you see that?"
The colonel said: "It does make a certain amount of sense." He paused, looking at the young man speculatively. "Tell me, son: why did you pick me to tell this tale to?"
Senesin's sensitive face betrayed his anxiety. "Because you have been my father's best and oldest friend. If he's really being made a puppet of, I should think you'd want to help him. Do you like to see him being destroyed this way?"
"No," said the colonel honestly. "And if he is actually being controlled illegally, if he is actually being blamed for things he did not do of his own free will, I'll do everything in my power to expose the plot—that I promise you."
Jon Senesin's eyes lit up; his face broke into a smile. "I knew I could depend on you, my lord! I knew it!"
"Just how do you propose to go about this?" asked Colonel Lord Sorban.
* * *
There was fire in young Senesin's eyes now. "I'll turn the whole case over to the people! I have some evidence, of course; the queer changes in behavior that Dad has exhibited during the past few years, and such things as that. The things that made me suspect in the first place. But that isn't acceptable evidence." He finished his brandy and got up excitedly to walk over and pour himself another. He glanced at the colonel's goblet, but the colonel had three-quarters of his own drink left.
Senesin talked as he poured. "Did you ever hear of a group called the Federalist Party?"
"Yes," said Colonel Sorban. "They want to federalize the Empire and get rid of the Imperial Family. Not a very popular group."
"No, but they're right! They're right! Don't you see that? And nobody pays any attention to them!"
"Calm down, son. What have the Federalists got to do with this?"
"They have sympathizers in the Palace," Senesin explained. "They've been able to get proof that the Emperor is illegally tampering with the Government, that he's been brainwashing my father. And they're going to turn that proof over to me."
"I don't quite follow the reason for that," the colonel lied easily. "Why don't they use it themselves?"
"They can't. Nobody'd believe them. Everyone would think that the proof had been faked for political propaganda.
"On the other hand, if I do it, all I can be accused of is having a personal motive. And if a man wants to get his father out of a jam, most people will agree that I have a perfect right to do so. Besides, I have enough influence to get people to listen to me, to give the evidence a fair hearing. If the newsies got this stuff from the Federalists, they'd throw it away without looking at it. But they'll listen to me."
"The newsies?" asked the colonel in a perfect imitation of mild astonishment. "You intend to turn this stuff over to news publishers?"
"Certainly! That's the only way. Put the evidence before the people, and they'll see what they're up against. I personally don't care whether we have an Emperor or not, but at least we can force Hannikar IV to abdicate in favor of Crown Prince Jaimie."
"I see." The colonel took another sip at his brandy and appeared to think it over. Wisely, young Senesin said nothing.
"How are we to get this evidence?" the colonel asked at last.
"We're to meet a man," Senesin said, with an air of melodrama. "We will get a call at fifteen of twelve, telling us where to meet him. We have to be there at midnight."
Oh, brother, thought the colonel, they really picked their man. They've got him thinking he's hip-deep in a romantic spy story.
Was I that way at twenty-two? A romantic? I suppose I must have been; why else would I have joined the Guards? Not for the pay, certainly.
Hell, I guess I'm still a romantic, in a way. Being a secret agent isn't all fun and games, but it has its compensations.
Aloud, he said, "Very well, son; I'll go with you. Did you tell them there'd be someone accompanying you?"
"I told them I'd have a friend along. I told them it would be you. They said it was all right, that they knew you were a friend of Dad's. They even knew you've been a little bitter at being retired from the Guards so young." He looked embarrassed. "Pardon me, my lord."
"That's all right," said the colonel steadily. He managed to give the appearance of a man who was doing his best not to look bitter.
"You aren't carrying a gun, are you?" Senesin asked suddenly. "They said we weren't to be armed. They'll probably search us."
"I haven't been in the habit of carrying a gun lately," said the colonel. "They won't find anything on me."
He finished his brandy while Senesin finished his second one. While the younger man refilled both goblets, the colonel asked permission to use the bathroom. He was gone less than three minutes, which he had spent with thumb and middle finger to larynx and mastoid bone.
At eleven forty-five promptly, the phone chimed. No face appeared on the screen when young Senesin answered it, but a voice gave an address on Kalia Road.
Three minutes later, the two men were on the roof, signaling for a skycab.
* * *
At ten o'clock the next morning, a panel slid aside in a wall that had previously seemed solid. Colonel Lord Barrick Sorban
stepped into the room, thinking as he did so that he really was a romantic. He actually rather enjoyed the idea of using secret passages and hidden panels to gain access to the Emperor's private apartments in the Imperial Palace.
He gave a gentle nod to the man in the blue lounging robe who sat in a big easy-chair just across the room. "Good morning, Sire."
"'Morning, colonel," said His Imperial Majesty, Hannikar IV. "How are things shaping up?"
The colonel chuckled. "Not a single one of the newsies printed a word of it, Sire."
These men were close friends, and had been for years, yet they clung to the formal titles, both from habit and for self-protection. The accidental use of a first name could mean a dead giveaway at the wrong time.
The Emperor was a smaller man than Colonel Sorban, but he was far more impressive. While the colonel seemed rather mild, the Emperor looked—well, Imperial. He looked just as an Emperor ought to look—handsome, dark-haired, stern at times and kindly at others. The square jaw gave an impression of firmness of character, while the sapphire-blue eyes were penetrating without being harsh or hard.
"What about the Senesin boy?" he asked.
"He's in jail," said the colonel.
His Imperial Majesty raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" It was a question and a command.
"Not by my orders," said the colonel quickly. "He got a little upset. He'd taken those tapes and documents around to four editors and had been thrown out four times. The fifth time—at the Globe, as a matter of fact—he accused the editor of being in your pay. A hassle started, and the editor called the Honolulu police. Don't worry, Sire; one of my boys got the tapes and stuff."
"Is it genuine?"
"The evidence? Yes. The Federalists had the goods on you, all right." He grinned. "As you said, everything but brainwashing."
"I'll take care of it," said the Emperor. "Prince Jaimie's been going through the family files, and I rather want him to see this batch of stuff, too. Meantime, get the Senesin boy out of that cell; I want to see him. He's got guts, if nothing else."
"He has sense, too, Sire; he's just a little too young yet." He almost added "and romantic," but he stopped himself in time.
"How long will it take to get him out?" His Majesty asked.
"I can have him here in half an hour. The editor of the Globe will drop the charges. I can put a little pressure on in the right places."
The Emperor nodded. After a moment, he thumbed a button on his chair arm. "Inform Lord Senesin that he is requested to appear for a Royal Audience in forty-five minutes," he said firmly.
"Yes, Sire," said a voice from a hidden speaker.
The Emperor looked at the colonel. "Get the boy."
* * *
Jon Senesin sat in a soft chair, his hands gripping at the arms as though it might at any time fall from under him. He looked at the three other men in the room. His father, Lord Senesin, looking rather tired, but with a slight smile on his lantern-jawed face, sat on his son's left. One hand ran nervously through his gray hair.
On Jon's right sat the colonel, looking cool, unperturbed, and very gentle.
Between them sat the Emperor.
Jon's face looked pale, and there was a slight nervous tic at the corner of his mouth. "I ... I don't understand," he said. "I—" He swallowed hard as his voice failed him.
"Nothing hard to understand, son," said the colonel mildly. "We've been looking for evidence to break up the Federalists for several years. Some of them are honest men who are simply against any kind of hereditary monarchy—we'll let them go eventually. Some of them are fanatics—the kind that is against any form of government that happens to be in power; they'll get psychiatric treatment. But the leaders of the group are agents of the Gehan Federation. My men are picking them up now. The man that contacted you and me last night was arrested within two minutes after we left."
"But—the evidence! Those tapes. The documents. They all seemed genuine. They seemed so convincing."
"They should be convincing, Jon," said Lord Senesin in his smooth oratorical baritone. "You see, they are perfectly true."
Jon Senesin looked at his father as though the older man had suddenly sprouted an extra set of ears. "Y ... You've been brainwashed?"
The Prime Portfolio shook his head. "No, son, not that. Did you see anything like that on the tapes?"
"N-no. But the others. Fileman Brenner, Portfolio for Defense Vane, General Finster—all of them. I thought—"
"You thought wrong, son," said Lord Senesin. "I am and always have been working loyally with His Majesty. He gives the orders, and I carry them out."
Jon's voice became taut. "You mean you're helping him? You're trying to get the Empire into a war with the Gehan Federation so that he can become another dictator, like Jerris the First?" He kept his eyes carefully averted from the Emperor as he spoke.
Thus he didn't notice that His Majesty looked at Colonel Sorban with an expression that said, "You're right. He does have guts."
Lord Senesin said: "No, son; I'm not working toward that at all. Neither is His Majesty. There would be no point in it."
Then, for the first time, the Emperor spoke. His voice was soft, but commanding. "Mr. Senesin, let me explain something to you."
Jon Senesin's head jerked around. There was a confused mixture of fear and determination on his face.
"Mr. Senesin, I no more want war than you do. I am trying to avoid it with every power at my command. I have that duty to my people. But I have another duty, too. A duty, not just to the Empire, but to the human race as a whole. And that duty is to establish, not a Terran Empire, but a Galactic Empire—a single, consolidated government for every planet in the galaxy. Man can't go on this way, divided, split up, warring with himself. Man can't live in isolation, cut off from other worlds, other types of societies.
"We can't have a part of the human race living in constant fear of another part. We can't allow the conditions that exist at this moment in the Gehan Federation. To paraphrase Lincoln, 'The galaxy cannot exist half slave and half free.'
"Right now, there is evidence that the Gehan Federation will collapse internally within less than five years. The only way for the President of the Federation to avert that collapse will be to declare war on the Empire. We have had to take certain risks in order to insure that when and if war does come, we will win it.
"Bairnvell was one of those risks. Not too great a one, as it turns out; evidently the Federation government doesn't see that our possession of that base is a vital factor in our own defense. Strategy in three dimensions isn't easy to reason out.
"Mr. Senesin, I have no desire for power in a personal way. Any power I have is used for the good of my people. I have no police system for terrorizing the people; I don't suppress the freedom of every man to say or print what he wants. To call your Sovereign a fatheaded slob in a newsfac might be considered bad taste, but it isn't illegal. I can't even bring a civil suit against you, the way an ordinary citizen could.
"Now, I'll grant that I sometimes use illegal means to control the Empire. But there are reasons for that. I—"
He was interrupted by a soft chime. He pressed a button on his armchair. "Yes?"
"You go on the interstellar hookup in twenty minutes, Sire. The File has assembled," said a voice from a speaker.
"I'll be right there." He stood up and glanced apologetically at the other three men. "Sorry. Political announcement, you know. You two go ahead and explain to Mr. Senesin." Then he looked directly at the Prime Portfolio. "I'll tell them you're slightly ill." He reached out, took Lord Senesin's hand, and grasped it firmly. "I'll make it look good, old friend, don't worry. I'll need your help with Lord Evondering when he gets the Primacy."
* * *
The other men were on their feet already. They watched in silence as he walked out the door, then eased themselves back into their chairs.
"I still don't understand," Jon said softly. The bitterness and anger seemed
to have left him, leaving only puzzlement in their wake. "If you take orders from him, Dad, then this isn't a democracy any more. It's become another Imperial dictatorship."
"Son," said his father, "the Empire never has been a democracy in the sense you're thinking about. Ever since Jerris the First, it has been ruled solely by the Emperors. Always.
"The Imperial Family is a special breed, son. It's a genetic strain in which the quality of wise leadership is dominant. It's a quality that's more than just intelligence; wisdom is the ability to make correct judgments, not only for one's self, but for others."
"But, Dad!" There was almost a wail in the boy's voice. "That makes the whole democratic system in the Empire a farce! It's totally unnecessary! You'reunnecessary! He could run everything by himself!"
Lord Senesin started to say something, but Colonel Sorban interrupted.
"No, you young fool, he is not unnecessary! He is, in a very real sense, the Emperor's shield. Our Emperors have always given the people of the Empire the kind of government they need, not the kind of government they want. There are certain things that must be done, whether the people like those things or not.
"How long do you think the Empire would last without the Imperial Line to guide it? Not ten years! The thing is too big, too vast, for any ordinary man to handle the job. The voters are perfectly capable of electing a man to the Primacy on the strength of his likable personality alone—look at Lord Evondering. A hell of a pleasant guy, without a glimmering of real wisdom.
"When the people don't like the things the Government does, they throw it out—even if the thing done was actually for the best. The people demand a new Government. We can't allow them to throw the Emperor out, so we need a scapegoat. This time, it happened to be your father, here. He happened to be Prime at a crucial time, and he had to give orders that made him unpopular. So he'll have to get out, and let the Loyal Opposition take over. But the Emperor will go right on running things.
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