Doric nudged Lord Maycare with her elbow.
“That might be considered racist…” she whispered, but loud enough for Kalidas to hear.
“I thought it was a compliment,” he said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s quite alright,” Kalidas said. “Was there something I could do?”
“Perhaps we could get access to Dahlvish records?” Doric said, “Every time we get a lead on an artifact, Warlock manages to get there first. As far as I know, the Dahlvish archives are off limits to all non-Dahl.”
“Indeed,” Kalidas agreed. “I don’t think even Warlock hackers could get into our… data bank, if you will.”
“Why’s that?” Maycare asked.
“It’s very unique,” the counselor replied.
“Well, can we see it or not?” Maycare said bluntly.
Doric gave him another elbow nudge.
Kalidas frowned, hesitating to answer. “It’s just that I don’t know if it could be… arranged.”
“That’s a shame,” Maycare went on. “I don’t know what Warlock does with these relics, but I doubt it’s anything good. I was hoping we could get an edge for once.”
“I’ll need to make inquiries,” Kalidas said, putting on a smile. “I’m sure someone with your reputation would be allowed somehow.”
“Capital!” Maycare shouted. “Bentley, get everyone champagne.”
“And perhaps some more spring rolls?” Henry asked.
Kalidas saw the robot glance at the young man and just walk away.
The venerable Abbot of the Dharmesh Monastery had reservations about taking a call from the emperor’s counselor, but after taking the call from Kalidas, the Abbot’s reservations only grew.
Dressed in amber robes, the Abbot waited at a railing overlooking an atrium of young monks. In lines facing each other, the acolytes held open their palms and, as if from thin air, a flame manifested itself in their hands. The students practiced balancing the fire like a ball between their fingertips.
The Abbot, with thin gray hair around his pointed ears, watched as the Prior of the monastery joined him.
“Father Abbot,” he said, “how was your meeting with the Imperial Palace?”
The Abbot made a low, throaty noise. “Poor.”
“May I inquire why?”
“Our man there, Kalidas, wants to bring a human here,” the Abbot said.
“Surely not,” the Prior said. “Whatever for?”
“Information...”
“I dare say I can’t recall a human visiting us recently.”
“And rightfully so,” the Abbot said. “Our studies are too important, too powerful for that matter, for humans to be mucking about.”
“You said no then?”
The Abbot grumbled so low, both in tone and depth of his chest, that the Prior leaned closer.
“I gave my approval,” the elder monk admitted. “Counselor Kalidas reminded me that our presence here, though many centuries old, is still at the pleasure of the emperor. The person who wishes to visit is a well-placed nobleman by the name of Lord Devlin Maycare.”
“I’ve heard of him,” the Prior said. “He has a rather dubious reputation.”
“Nevertheless, the man apparently has enough friends at the palace that denying him our services would be… unwise.”
“Regrettable.”
“Indeed.”
“When will His Lordship be arriving then?” the Prior asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” the Abbot replied.
“Does he require an audience with the students or the senior monks?”
“Absolutely not! I want everyone else in their quarters until the visitors have completed their business.”
A grav car flew high above Aldorus, heading for the Palatine Mountains. Henry Riff was along for the ride, but wasn’t exactly sure why. His boss, Jessica Doric, sat beside him in the backseat while her boss, Lord Maycare, was doing the driving up front. Normally, Doric would sit beside Maycare and Henry would be by himself in the back. On this trip, Counselor Kalidas was up front and Doric was in the back.
Also, Doric’s hair looked like a squirrel’s nest.
“Could you close the canopy?” she asked politely.
“What?” Maycare replied. “I can’t hear you over the wind.”
“Close the damn dome!” she shouted, somewhat less politely.
“Oh, sorry!” Maycare said, closing the canopy.
Henry took a sidelong glance at Doric, not daring to look at her directly. With the wind now gone, she was trying to corral the wisps of hair around her head.
“You look nice,” he said.
“Thank you, Henry,” Doric replied with a weak smile.
Henry felt himself blushing.
“You can see the monastery there,” Counselor Kalidas said, pointing at a lone structure on the mountainside.
“There’s no landing pad,” Maycare pointed out.
“They normally don’t get visitors,” Kalidas replied. “I think there’s room near the front gate.”
The grav car swooped in with a flare at the end to burn off speed. Henry’s throat dropped into his stomach and his stomach dropped into his shoes. He knew Lord Maycare was showing off, as he often did, but Henry wasn’t entirely sure who he was showing off to this time.
The car came to rest on a narrow trail a few feet from a stone staircase leading to the monastery’s entrance. By the time all of them had disembarked, the heavy wooden door had opened and an elder Dahl dressed in orange robes stood in the archway. Another, slightly younger, Dahl stood beside him.
Counselor Kalidas spoke first.
“My dear Abbot,” he said, swinging his arms out in a grand gesture, “thank you again for allowing this visit.”
The Abbot smiled briefly, but returned to an almost stoic expression.
“Yeah,” Lord Maycare said. “On behalf of House Maycare, thank you for letting us into yours.”
Henry noticed that Maycare looked proud of what he had just said, even though Doric was the one who came up with it in the grav car just before they arrived.
As if with great effort, the Abbot nodded.
“The Dharmesh Monastery welcomes you, Lord Maycare,” he said gravely. “W hope you understand the great importance we place on our privacy and will respect our wish to keep our solitude in the future.”
“Absolutely!” Maycare said. “We’re not going to make this a habit if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Indeed,” the Abbot replied.
The Abbot, along with his companion, turned without another word and headed inside.
Still suspicious that her hair looked like she had been electrocuted, Jessica Doric was annoyed at Lord Maycare for being so thoughtless. On the other hand, he used the introduction she had suggested so that was something, not that any of it mattered apparently to the Abbot. He reminded her of the Dean at the University of Regalis: stuffy and resolute and dead set against change of any meaningful sort.
Doric, along with the others, climbed the stairs and followed the Abbot through the main gate. The interior of the monastery was almost entirely granite, as if it were carved from the mountain itself. Doric noticed the tapestries, each a work of art, hanging from the walls of the main entrance hall. She had studied Dahlvish culture and recognized some of the scenes woven into the fabrics. The Dahl were long-lived, and many of their most celebrated scholars and statesmen amassed accomplishments over many centuries. As an academic herself, Doric personally found them intimidating, knowing their breadth of knowledge.
The Abbot continued walking through the monastery, never looking back at those following. Doric began wondering where all the other monks were. She took peeks at adjoining corridors as they passed, but each hallway seemed deserted. She had hoped to see a demonstration of the psionics she knew they studied here.
Finally, they emerged into a courtyard open to the sky. A jarring gust of mountain air blew into their faces. Doric shivered and regrett
ed not dressing in something warmer.
Refreshing, she thought sardonically.
A circular pool of water, bordered by cut stones, was at the center of the courtyard. At first glance, Doric thought the pool was filled with regular water, but on further examination, she noticed it glimmered, not from the reflected sky or artificial lighting, but from some sort of inner radiance in the liquid itself.
“Are we going swimming?” Henry asked hopefully.
The Abbot leaned toward his assistant. “What did he say?”
“Nothing…” Doric said, pushing Henry behind her.
“Very well,” the Abbot nodded. “What you see before you is one of the greatest achievements of the Dahl people. You also have the privilege of being one of the few non-Dahl to ever see it.”
“What is it?” Doric asked.
“The Pool of Memory,” the Abbot replied.
Seeing the blank look on the other faces, Counselor Kalidas stepped between them and the Abbot.
“It’s a liquid computer,” Kalidas said. “A database, if you will.”
“Well, I suppose so,” the Abbot remarked. “A gross over-simplification, I dare say.”
“A database?” Maycare said. “Containing what exactly?”
“Everything,” Kalidas said. “The sum total of our experiences and knowledge.”
“Gross,” Henry whispered into Doric’s ear. “I’m glad I didn’t swim in it.”
Doric ignored him. “How does it work?”
“Using psionics,” the Abbot explained, “we can store our memories in the Pool. These experiences are then contained by nanoparticles suspended in the liquid.”
Doric could tell Lord Maycare was skeptical. His face was scrunched like a tight fist.
“Okay,” Maycare said. “How can it help us?”
The Abbot took another step toward the edge of the pool.
“Through the Naiad!” the Abbot said, waving a hand over the water.
The pool blossomed with a radiant, aquamarine glow. Slowly, a head rose from the water, then a pair of shoulders, and finally the rest of a female figure, her feet still submerged. While shaped like a person, the form was made from the same translucent material as the pool.
“A water nymph?” Doric asked.
“There’s no direct translation,” the Abbot said, “but you might see her as such.”
“She acts as an interface for the database,” Kalidas said, earning another glaring look from the Abbot.
“So, we can ask her questions?” Maycare asked.
The Abbot sighed. “Yes.”
“Now we’re talking!” Maycare said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them.
Chapter Seventeen
Cornelius, Prince Richard’s execubot, listened to Lord Tagus III talk with the prince in his palace office. The robot could tell Tagus was angry because the decibel level of his voice was far above normal. Cornelius found this puzzling since people did not typically yell at his master. Even Prince Alexander would feign respect when speaking to his brother.
An execubot’s programming was specific about remaining civil and behaving in a rational way at all times. Lord Tagus III was red in the face and his spittle sporadically sprayed from his mouth, falling in droplets on Richard’s desk. Cornelius regretted that more people did not have his programming.
“Durant Blixx is a menace!” Tagus yelled, “And now he’s kidnapped the emperor’s own daughter!”
“I’m aware of the situation,” Prince Richard replied, sitting calmly behind his desk. “The emperor will respond at the appropriate time.”
“With Princess Katherine as a hostage,” Tagus said hotly, “time is the last thing we have!”
“We can’t just go off half-cocked without any idea where Blixx may’ve taken her.”
“Have you talked to your brother? I find it suspicious that Katherine was taken and not the prince.”
“What are you implying?” Richard asked.
“If Alexander wasn’t kidnapped, it’s probably because he hid like a coward or he was in on it the whole time!”
“Have a care, Rupert…”
Cornelius watched Tagus pause, as if calculating his next move.
“What does the emperor have planned?” he said finally between gritted teeth.
Richard sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
“I have a meeting shortly with my father,” he said. “If his plans include the military, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”
“My ship can leave at a moment’s notice,” Tagus said. “Just let me know.”
Prince Richard stood and presented his hand to Lord Tagus. With reluctance, Tagus took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake.
“I will,” the prince replied.
In his private study, Emperor Augustus drank wine near the fireplace with the imposing figure of Bar-Batos, the Magna Ambassador. The two were alone.
“Talion wine, isn’t it?” the ambassador asked.
“Yes indeed,” the emperor replied.
“They served the Magna well during our last war with the Imperium. They were fine allies.”
“Oh, I know,” Augustus said. “That’s why we launched reprisal raids against them after we signed the armistice with you. That’s how I liberated this wine, in fact. I’ve got a whole case of it down in the cellar.”
The ambassador, the wine glass minuscule in his enormous hands, finished the drink in one final gulp. His blood red eyes reflected the flames in the fireplace.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” he said.
“Indeed,” Augustus replied. “We made sure of that.”
“Still, mercy is often considered a human virtue as I recall.”
“True, but those humans don’t have to be emperor.”
Someone knocked on the study door.
“Come in,” the emperor said.
The door opened and Prince Richard stuck his head into the room. Seeing the massive green hulk of the Magna beside his father, the prince’s face turned white.
“It’s alright, my boy,” Augustus assured him. “The ambassador was just leaving anyway.”
“Thank you for the wine,” Bar-Batos told the emperor. “Remind me and I’ll send you some Irish whiskey we confiscated from one of your illegal border outposts.”
“Always a pleasure,” the emperor said, taking the glass from the ambassador and setting both goblets on the mantelpiece.
Prince Richard stood just inside the doorway as the Magna passed. The prince softly closed the door behind him.
“You keep strange company,” Richard said.
“Perhaps,” his father replied, “but enemies can often make the best of friends when the need arises.”
Richard took a seat in one of the chairs while Augustus sat on his couch.
“Rupert paid me a visit,” the prince said. “I can’t imagine him and I becoming friends any time soon.”
“It’s a matter of respect, of course, but I doubt Rupert has much respect for anyone.”
“He sees us as weak.”
The emperor laughed. “Does he now?”
“This whole Blixx affair makes us look feeble. We can’t let it continue much longer.”
“No one said we were.”
“Well, the military is getting restless,” Richard said. “Tagus is captain of the largest vessel in the Navy. He’s got a lot of pull with the other officers.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” the emperor said.
“No? He wants to take the Gorgon out looking for Blixx. If he finds him, the people will carry Tagus through the Victory Arch when he gets back. Don’t you worry about how that might embarrass our family?”
“Not at all.”
“Why not, for heaven’s sake?”
Richard’s father glanced at his son and smiled knowingly.
“None of that matters, my boy,” Augustus said. “Keeping up appearances might seem important to some, but when you sit on the emperor’s throne, ther
e’s a great deal more going on that’s never reported on VOX News.”
Richard sighed.
“Cheer up!” Augustus said. “This pirate business will soon be over.”
“I hope you’re right, father. Tagus had the audacity to accuse Alexander of kidnapping Kate.”
The emperor chuckled. “Alexander in cahoots with Durant Blixx?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hadn’t considered that, I suppose.”
“At the very least,” Richard said, “we need to limit Alexander’s visibility. I thought sending him to Mother’s would be enough, but obviously that wasn’t the case.”
Augustus remained silent for a little while.
“You know,” he said after the pause, “I have a vassal with an estate on a little planet off the beaten path. A bit of a recluse, but he owes me a favor...”
“What do you have in mind?” Richard asked.
The emperor grinned.
The hospital room was painted white except for blue tiles around the windowsill where Prince Alexander rested his elbows, looking at the Revenna sky. Sighing, he turned toward the bed, which was the only furniture in the room except for a single chair in the corner. Lefty Lucy lay unconscious, tubes running from her arms and wires attached to her temples. Alexander held the bed rail as he stared down at his bodyguard, wondering when or if she would wake again.
“You’re supposed to keep me out of trouble, not get yourself hurt,” he said. “What were you thinking?”
A hovering nursebot glided into the room. Egg-shaped, the robot had no legs or head, but made up for it with a multitude of moving arms, each holding a medical instrument or syringe. Alexander thought it looked like a floating octopus.
“Hello,” he said.
“Good morning!” the robot replied, its voice emanating from somewhere inside the egg.
“Are you here to inject more nanos?” Alexander asked.
“Unnecessary, Your Highness. The ones already in her system are working to heal her injuries.”
“Then why isn’t she awake yet?”
The nursebot whirled around a few rotations.
“Unknown,” it said. “I’m not programmed to make a prognosis.”
“Who is?”
The Arks of Andromeda (The Imperium Chronicles Book 1) Page 16