by Ben Bova
joaqp90007—Glenney reports that a healthy baby has been born. I have a son …
joacc98172—The boy, Reid, is being reared on Earth. Rihana has purchased a great deal of land adjacent to Somerville, near Woodsgate itself. Damn her! What is she up to …
joakll01955—She has engaged Brendan as the boy's Master, but I don't understand why. Bomeer, naturally, expects the worst. Well, at least it will help to consolidate our surveillance efforts…
joawe122743—He seems to be very bright and is responding well to his teaching. However, even at five years of age he is already showing signs of being a bully. Glenney reports that many of the townspeople have filed complaints with House Valtane…
joawel22745—I have made a decision on the matter…
joayyl22998—I am informed that the fertilization of the frozen ovum was successful and that the implanted embryo is healthy. I have already given orders that the surrogate will stay at Woodsgate and that the baby will be born there…
joabhl28732—"Adela, my love, we have a son. His name is Eric, after your father. I regret that I was not able to discuss this with you and hope you will understand my reasons. If not, then perhaps it is your forgiveness that I should hope for…"
The sky over the eastern hills was graying when Eric reached the final entry his search program had called up. He rubbed at burning eyes with his cramped fingers and squinted at the last entry.
joatr212665—My sons have met, with undesirable, although predictable, results. I've kept this matter from him for too long and will talk to him later this morning…
Eric rubbed his eyes again and slowly backed his way out of his father's files, trying to leave as few footprints as possible. There would be telltales, he knew, and sooner or later his father would discover that he'd accessed the private entries. When it happened, he'd ask for his father's understanding.
Or his forgiveness.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"It's beautiful!" Eric stared, wide-eyed and mouth agape, out the plastiglass window running up the entire wall of his suite. "I don't remember any of this being so fantastic."
"There are other views available, Young Prince," Academician Bomeer said. "Computer! Activate room screen; alternate views, please." The window immediately converted to a holoscreen mat showed other vistas of the lunar landscape surrounding the Imperial section of Armelin City. The display cycled through several options: an external view of the enormous Imperial landing bay now receiving incoming traffic; a magnified window-perspective of the new Science and Engineering facility under construction three kilometers to the west; the plastiglass dome of one of the recreational complexes, the lunar-normal gravity inside allowing citizens and vacationers alike to frolic in low-g sports. "Simply tell the room system which you prefer."
The original window-aspect reappeared, fascinating Eric more than the others, and he wasted no time in ordering the room system to leave the screen off. He grinned boyishly at how much more sophisticated the room systems were here than at Woodsgate. In fact, although he had been on Luna for several hours, the Prince still had a hard time containing his excitement at virtually everything he saw, heard or experienced. It was obvious to Bomeer that the privilege of coming to the Moon on the occasion of his sixteenth birthday was a welcome present indeed.
Eric turned from the window, tempering his enthusiasm at last, and sat on a long sofa placed in such a manner as to still allow him to glance periodically at the surrounding vista. "Academician Bomeer, will my father be able to break away and spend some time with me?" He pulled his boots off as he spoke, and absently dug his toes into the thick carpeting at his feet. "I was hoping that maybe we could have dinner together tonight, just the two of us."
"I am afraid not." Bomeer selected a chair facing the sofa and sat down, studying the Prince. He had seen Eric nearly ten years earlier when he'd first visited the Moon, then again on a short visit planetside to attend to some of the Emperor's affairs at Woodsgate, but he was simply not prepared for how much the boy had grown. My God, he thought as he studied Eric's features. You truly are your father's son… And your mother's. "The Emperor regrets that he was not able to greet you himself on your arrival, but has asked me to meet with you personally and to see to it that your immediate needs are met in the meantime."
A look of disappointment washed over Eric's face for a moment, but he nodded acceptance. He smiled in understanding at Bomeer and said, "I knew he might be. Oh, well, there's plenty of time. Could you arrange for an escort for me for later? I'd like to see some of the recreational and entertainment facilities here in the Imperial residence, as well as the research labs. Whatever's not restricted, of course."
Bomeer raised an eyebrow, remembering what Javas had said about the boy's prowess with computers.
"Of course. I'll have someone on standby; just give security a call once you have a chance to settle in."
Eric leaned back on the sofa and stretched, working the kinks out of his arms and legs after the lengthy shuttle trip from Earth. "It's probably just as well," he said, yawning. "I think I could use the time to nap out for a while."
"I imagine you are tired," Bomeer replied. "Earthers can do that to you."
Eric raised an eyebrow. "Oh? But I am an Earther."
A sudden wave of self-induced shock swept over Bomeer and he stuttered—something he rarely did—in quick apology to his Emperor's son. "Your Highness! I did not mean to imply that—"
Eric laughed, dismissing the academician's unintended insult with a wave of his hand. "Please, you've not offended me." He leaned back into the couch, folding his hands behind his head. "I've heard you hold no great love for Earthers."
"What can I say?" Bomeer shrugged, and chuckled nervously along with the good-natured Prince. "I've not attempted to hide my feelings for Earthers any more than—"
"Any more than you've hidden your feelings for my father's project." Eric's grin broadened mischievously.
"I have known you but a few hours," Bomeer said, cautiously returning Eric's smile, "and already you have caught me off guard; not once, but twice. You not only remind me of your father, but I see a great deal of your grandfather in you as well." Bomeer's estimation of the Prince rose several notches and he stood, spreading his hands wide in open admission as he headed for the door. "In any event, it is my job to express my opinion."
"My father speaks very highly of you for that."
Bomeer stopped, taken somewhat by surprise at this revelation, and turned back to the Prince. "Thank you for saying so."
Eric padded silently across the luxurious carpeting and stood facing the academician. "I've spoken in confidence to you, Academician; maybe you'll return the favor. Tell me: How is my father?"
"He works too hard, he works too long; and he sometimes tries to accomplish too much in a short time." Bomeer paused, taking the measure of the young man before him. "But he is very proud of his son and has been anxiously awaiting your visit for many weeks. Now that you have arrived… your father is fine."
Eric extended his hand. "Thank you, Academician."
Bomeer shook hands, then turned for the door, opening the security latch with his thumbprint. "Enjoy your rest. Security will send your escort when you are ready to tour the facilities."
The door slid closed behind Bomeer and, nodding briefly to the guards posted at each side of the entrance to the Prince's suite, the academician walked briskly down the corridor.
Your son is a fine young man, Javas, he mused. He will make an excellent Emperor one day.
Port Director Mila Kaselin lay on her back, her lifeless eyes staring emptily from a crushed and misshapen face into the high reaches of the Imperial landing bay. A portable screen generator had been placed on the floor near her body, the hastily erected shielding now surrounding the controller's station opaqued at its perimeter to hide the gruesome sight Eric stared at now.
Glenney's call had come on his third night on Luna, as he and his father had finally managed to share a private d
inner together. His father had left strict orders not to be disturbed, and had even gone so far as to disable the communications page in his dining room system to ensure a quiet evening. But someone had been killed at the port facility, and the Security Chief had thought the situation important enough to warrant interrupting one of the Emperor's all-too-rare family visits. Eric knew what had happened, of course; he had even seen it in Glenney's holoreport showing the grisly scene uncomfortably real—and even more uncomfortably close to the dinner table—and had a good idea of what to expect. Death was no stranger to him than it was to any other sixteen-year-old, but seeing it firsthand was still an experience that caught him more unprepared than he would have liked. Seeing it over the first dinner with his father in nearly eight months hadn't helped.
But then he had insisted on accompanying the Emperor to the scene. "This concerns me," he'd told his father at the conclusion of Glenney's report. "I belong there." But now he had second thoughts about not having waited for him at the table, as his father had suggested.
"She was beaten to death, Sire," Glenney was saying, "plain and simple. Whoever did this overpowered her and knocked her unconscious, and then continued until there was almost nothing left of her." Glenney paused, noting the look on Javas' face as the Emperor knelt before the broken body at his feet. "She, uh… Judging from the damage done by the blows, she was probably rendered unconscious almost immediately and didn't suffer through most of this."
Javas stood up rigidly, addressing his Security Chief in a tone that made the usually self-assured Glenney snap to attention. "Is that supposed to diminish what has happened here?" he demanded. The Emperor spun about and walked steadily toward the edge of the circle of shielding. "I want a full report in thirty minutes, Glenney, in my study. Eric!" Glenney's men literally had to scramble to get the shield open fast enough for Javas to pass through without slowing his stride.
Eric hesitated, still transfixed by the body on the floor in front of him. Director Kaselin had personally taken charge of his shuttle when he'd arrived, and she had been the first to greet him when he disembarked the vehicle. He remembered thinking at the time how pretty she was, but he had difficulty now, staring down at her battered corpse, recalling anything at all about what she looked like.
"Eric!" His father had halted several paces on the other side of the shielding and was waiting impatiently with the escort, the look on his face a confused mixture of rage and sorrow. He turned away from the mess and hurriedly joined Javas, who had already resumed walking down the corridor.
They walked the labyrinth of corridors leading to the Emperor's study in wordless silence, the clicking of their boots on the hard surface echoing hollowly as they walked.
Eric had seen his grandfather's study at Woodsgate only once—his father had visited Earth on the occasion of his tenth birthday, and had taken him inside the sealed room to talk about his future role in the Imperial structure—but this room seemed designed to be a mirror image of it. The paneling, the bookshelves filled with as many real books as tapes, the viewscreen, everything.
He took a chair facing the enormous wooden desk and watched his father as he sat heavily behind it. Javas tilted back as fully as the chair would allow, then rubbed his face with the palms of his hands and sighed before tilting the chair forward again and leaning on the desktop. Why was he so troubled by this? To be sure, the person responsible for this horribly cruel murder must be apprehended and punished to the fullest extent of Imperial law; but just as surely his father must have dealt with problems of this severity—and worse—before. Why did this one weigh so heavily upon him? Why, for that matter, had Glenney even felt the necessity of bringing it to his father's attention so quickly?
"Father?"
He looked up, seeming to see Eric in the room for the first time. He rose, opening a set of doors mounted flush into the paneling, and selected a bottle and two glasses from the well-stocked interior. He poured two drinks and replaced the bottle, closing the cabinet so that the doors became virtually invisible in the paneling once more. He handed one of the glasses to him and took the other for himself.
"I'm sorry, Eric," he said. "Not much of a 'happy birthday,' is it?" He regarded the glass in his hand for several moments, then sipped at the contents. Eric sipped tentatively at his own, the smooth brown liquid wanning his throat as it went down.
"Who was she?"
His father had been about to lift the glass to his lips again, but stopped, lowering his arm to the desk in front of him and looking squarely into Eric's eyes. "She was a friend." Javas sighed, then pushed abruptly away from the desk. He leaned now against the bookcase, and must have issued a silent command through his integrator, because the viewscreen snapped suddenly to life, displaying a panoramic view of Armelin City. The old construction was obvious from this aerial perspective—older, grayer, more compact with a scattered added-on-later look to many of the domes and modules making up the lunar city—but the Imperial section, occupying fully a third of the image on the viewscreen, appeared as a connected single unit constructed as a fully functioning city unto itself.
"Do you see that, Eric? I built it in ten years. Ten years." Javas paused, sipped at his drink. The picture on the viewscreen expanded as it panned back for a satellite view from many kilometers up. "I didn't know your mother well when we came here from Corinth; we had barely met, once you take into account the inconsistencies of interstellar travel. We spent the entire voyage here in cryosleep, and on arrival we each went about our own tasks—hers to begin the Sun project, mine to establish the seat of Empire here in Sol system while your grandfather was in transit from Corinth. Looking back on it now, I don't think we spoke to each other more than a dozen times over the first five years here.
"My first priority was the landing bay; everything else that was to follow demanded that it be up and running. But more importantly, it had to be running independently—with everything else I had to do, it had to be as nearly self-sufficient as I could make it. Mila Kaselin was one of the first people I assigned here, one of the first I trusted." The screen blanked as his father issued another silent command then crossed back to the desk and sat, still nursing the glass in his hand. "She and I were close, in those early days here."
There was a sudden beeping from the room system; not loud, but it startled Eric all the same. Javas looked to the side for a moment, his brow deeply furrowed, and the beeping stopped, then he continued as if nothing at all had happened to interrupt them. When he faced him again, the hint of an apologetic smile was on his lips.
"But that is only a part of what I'm feeling now." He finished his drink, reaching back to set the glass on a low shelf behind him. "More important than a decades-old memory of what seemed a simpler time when I was only acting Emperor is the fact that someone I've considered untouchable has been murdered." Javas sat up straight in the chair and looked at Eric with an intensity that made him squirm uncomfortably.
"Son, more than twenty years have passed since your grandfather was murdered, and we still do not know who was responsible. Certainly there were many against our goal who plotted to take not only his life but my own as well as your mother's. He who allowed your grandfather to die was pardoned, and he now—well, he is watched." Anger glowed briefly in the Emperor's eyes, frustrated anger fanned by years of fruitless efforts at this one goal.
Eric had never seen his father so disturbed. He set his glass—the drink untouched but for the single sip he'd taken earlier—on the front edge of the desk and pivoted the chair. "And you're afraid," he said, "that those behind my grandfather's death have now renewed their effort to change the leadership of the Empire. And, in doing so, change the Imperial stance involving the project to save the Sun."
"Bomeer was right," he replied. "You are sharper than we give you credit." He took a moment to smile appreciatively at his son. "Yes, then; I believe that the inner workings of the Imperial structure have been breached." He closed his eyes briefly in a way Eric had come to associate
with his father using his integrator, then faced the door. "Security Chief Glenney has been waiting for several minutes; let's hear what he has to say."
The panel door slid aside and Glenney entered, taking a step inside the room and stopping with the door sliding closed mere centimeters behind him.
"Sire?" The expression on the man's face showed surprise, and more than a little concern, at seeing Eric still with his father.
"Be seated. Your report?"
"Sire, as you know, we found—"
"Do not tell me what I already know!" The Emperor banged his fist violently on the desk and glared at his Chief. "A murder has been committed in one of the highest security areas in the Imperial section. It goes without saying, therefore, that we have been breached. It's just as obvious that this was not a random event, but rather something that has been accomplished over an extended time, perhaps years. Tell me what I do not know."
Glenney paused, a disconcerted gaze shifting from the Emperor to Eric, then back again. He straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. "We've checked and double-checked the records of anyone who could possibly have had access to the area where Director Kaselin was working at the time of her death—Sire, I've personally gone over them, going back more than twenty years, and have found no discrepancies. This is something that goes back to your arrival here, someone who has remained in place since that time and has only now chosen to act." He glanced at the Prince again.
Eric was immediately on his feet, feeling as though some metallic claw had just wrenched his stomach from him. He ran a hand through his long, dark hair, then leaned with both hands on the desk, confronting his father.
"It's me, isn't it?" he burst out. "It's because I'm here that this has happened. My God, this is my fault." He turned away, trying to hide the shame he felt.
"Sit down, Eric." His father's words were soft, yet firm. He waited until the Prince was seated, then added, "No, it's not you… it's us." Javas stood and came around the desk to stand next to Eric, then bluntly faced the security man. "Tell him."