Imperium: Coda: Book Three in the Imperium Trilogy

by Paul M Calvert

  His grip on Kiyami was by now reduced to a small section of the Palace. What was left of his intelligence and spy network reported attacks by angry mobs of civilians against all of his properties and administrative centres. The minor nobility had all fled their homes, trying to blend in with the chaos. Alexander’s forces were broadcasting appeals for calm, but the population was having none of it, venting their frustration on any sign of Frederick’s power or authority.

  Feeling physically sick, Frederick’s mood was swinging from deep panic to unrealistic optimism, despite the calming drugs being administered by his suit. Currently, he was expecting Alexander to offer some sort of terms, just as he had done with several of the Duke’s and Lords to avoid the destruction of their worlds and innocent life, but deep down he realised this was never going to happen.

  His panicked eyes looked around the room, taking reassurance from the hulking presence of the bodyguards behind him. Frederick checked the projection again, perhaps for the fiftieth time in the last hour, trying not to rage at how his fortunes had changed in such a short time, his pride the only thing now keeping him from panicking.

  Suddenly, without any warning, the projection disappeared, replaced by a massive black shape, the concussion of its appearance knocking all of his unarmoured advisors backwards over their chairs, blowing sundry cups and anything not fastened down against the walls. Before anyone could react, the loud, sharp crack of flechette and small calibre railgun slugs began. Heads exploded into pink mist, and fully half of the Marines guarding the entrance began falling to the floor, headless. Armoured gauntlets grasped his shoulders and pulled him back, his bodyguards interspersing themselves between him and the attackers. The AI in Fredericks suit automatically formed his helmet and began cycling up its weapon systems from dormancy. As it did so, Frederick realised he hadn’t fired or used a weapon in anger since the Succession War, his suddenly shaking hands fumbling for a weapon.

  Alexander, Gallagher and Plewa launched themselves at the Marines guarding Frederick, foregoing firing at the fully armoured bodyguards, preferring to use sword and buckler. Behind them, the other Imperials did the same, mono-molecular sword-blades clashing. Plewa blocked an overhead slash with his buckler, then lashed out with his boot, catching the Marine hard on the knee-joint, the force of his kick cracking the joint and temporarily disabling it until the suit could repair the damage. Refusing to give his opponent any respite and taking advantage of its restricted movement, Plewa used his forward momentum to body check the Marine, knocking it backwards. A quick thrust of his sword took the enemy fighter in the throat, just below the helmet. Despite dying from a mortal blow, the Marine tried to recover but was blinded by his own blood pumping up into his helmet, splattering inside and obscuring its displays. Plewa sensed an incoming blow and pivoted, catching it on his blade, returning it with one of his own, engaging the fallen Marine’s comrade.

  Alexander caught a flash of Frederick’s gaudy armour between two large Marines, recognising it from numerous pageants and formal gatherings. He leapt forward, his two swords slashing out, all thought of personal safety forgotten as a blinding rage took him. This time he didn’t resist and let himself be carried away by it, all rationality gone, replaced by an all-consuming hate. His vision tunnelled, but Alexander didn’t care, a small sane part of his mind knowing that Vimes and his bodyguards would take care of anything his lack of peripheral vision didn’t see coming.

  Gallagher moved alongside, immediately recognising what had taken over his friend. He was now fighting on two fronts, trying to protect Alexander and avoid being hit by the Marine doing its level best to decapitate him. He risked taking a non-fatal blow to his side, letting his opponent's blade slice through his suit, trapped it with his buckler, then twisted to snap it off close to the hilt. In the two seconds it would take his enemy to reform another one, the advantage would be his. Patrick smashed his buckler sideways into the Marine’s helmet, the force of the blow fatally cracking the metal beyond repair, and on into the man’s face and sinuses, splintering bone and teeth which exploded in a shower of blood.

  Grunting with the effort and from the pain in his side only now beginning to fade as his suit sought to heal him, Gallagher caught the dying Marine, lifting him over his head. He threw the now inert body at another Marine about to stab Alexander in the back. With his arms still raised, Gallagher was unable to do anything about the new blade that slid effortlessly between his ribs, slicing into his lung. Before collapsing, Gallagher looked with detached amusement at the blade poking through his chest-plate and had just enough time to utter a final curse.

  Unaware of what had happened to his friend, Alexander despatched the last of Frederick’s bodyguards and closed with the terrified Duke, flicking blood off his two blades. Frederick stumbled backwards towards the wall, wailing unheard inside his helmet at his approaching nemises, all pretence and bravado gone, leaving him alone, unmanned and terrified.

  Seeing what had happened to Duke Gallagher, Sergeant Plewa quickly killed the attacker before it could turn around and effectively defend itself. A quick check around the room confirmed all targets were down, his remaining Marines now guarding the entrance, setting up the mobile shield. He moved towards his Emperor, now standing motionless above Frederick, who was cowering on the floor, hands raised as if in supplication to a vengeful God. He could see Alexander armoured form visibly tremble with the effort of restraining itself from smashing Frederick to a pulp.

  For Alexander, nothing existed except the desire to bring his swords down onto Frederick, his body trembling with rage. Unexpectedly, Vimes uttered one word in his mind, then triggered a memory, shocking Alexander back into control. He lowered his swords and motioned for Plewa to come and take the Duke prisoner. Looking around with new eyes finally cleared of anger, Alexander saw Marines moving the wounded away from the centre of the room and the second probe appear, ready to return them to the surface and safety. Only then did he realise his friend was down. He rushed over to him, checking his suit’s vitals, noting it was keeping him alive, despite the grievous wounds.

  Behind him, Sergeant Plewa was taking no chances, having kicked Frederick senseless after forcibly making him remove his armour, tying his hands and feet in unbreakable bonds. Plewa also fixed a short range jammer to Frederick’s head, disabling his implant and cutting him off from the Palace AI and the outside world.

  In a matter of minutes they were all crammed into the second probe, awaiting the Jump. Frederick was being held down on the floor, his unconscious form surrounded by angry Marines looking for any excuse to hurt him. Like the others around him, Alexander said nothing, but where the others were checking up on comrades and how the battle above was almost at an end, all he could see was the image Vimes had shown him from May 1940, of a German about to shoot two British soldiers for trying to escape.

  It was in that moment Alexander realised he had almost become what he’d spent his life fighting against.

  It was time for him to go.

  SCENE 24, CORONATION

  Karen brushed a non-existent piece of lint from Adam’s ceremonial robes, shooing away the sundry servants and helpers busying themselves in getting the Emperor-to-be ready for his Coronation.

  He smiled lovingly at her, reaching out to touch his wife’s rapidly expanding belly. She placed both of hers on top, letting him feel the movement there. They looked at each other and smiled, sharing a lovingly intimate moment amidst a room full of people.

  “Come on, let’s take our yacht and Jump off somewhere and leave all these people wondering where we have gone,” he thought at her. “We are due a break, and once this ceremony is over, we still have hundreds of planets to visit.”

  Karen shook her head at him. “Don’t tempt me, Adam, not even in jest. It’s been three months already, and we have only visited half of the worlds affected by the rebellion. I now know how Freya must feel going on those long Progressions of hers.” She paused and interrogated Vimes for a moment, “T
alking of Freya, are she and First Mihos being well looked after?”

  “Yes, Karen, no need to be concerned. The substantial fleet Freya and Mihos brought a with them as a mark of respect, is out near Jupiter, conducting joint War Games with Duke Gallagher’s son, Admiral Thomas and our Grand Fleet. The new trade and military co-operation treaties are working well, to everyone’s mutual benefit. Our Lord Chamberlain is deep in conversation with the Empress, and Duke Patrick is currently regaling Mihos with how he almost died protecting Alexander. If there were any scars to see, I’m sure he would be showing them to him,” Vimes voice chuckled in their minds, sending them a picture of the two Nobles deep in conversation, sitting at the front of the Great Hall of the Imperium.

  Karen and Adam laughed at the image Vimes conjured up for them, easing a little of their tension at the forthcoming proceedings. With nothing more to do, the two of them put away any regrets they might have had and allowed themselves to be led towards the doorway which would lead them to the massive doors of the Hall and the long walk down the aisle towards the throne, through the numerous ranks of nobles and specially chosen guests. Through the still closed doors, both of them made out the Imperial Fanfare, signalling their impending entrance.

  Adam’s hand sought out hers for a moment, finding it and giving a gentle squeeze. “I love you,” he thought to her.

  Karen returned the squeeze, then let go. “I know, I love you too,” she thought back, just as the doors swung open to reveal the brightly lit hall and massed ranks of heads, all turning to welcome them into a new life.

  A long two hours later, Emperor Adam and Empress Karen managed to catch time alone with Alexander, thanks to Vimes deftly moving appointments and duties to give them a little time together before the grand reception took place.

  The change in Alexander was noticeable, for after the end of the rebellion and with all the Coronation preparations and their own Progression around the Empire, neither of them had managed to see him in person. He walked over to them both, opening his arms and hugging them tightly, kissing Karen on her head.

  “How’s my future grandchild doing?” he asked, his tone light. “Well done to both of you. I remember my own Coronation as if it was yesterday, and you two seem to have had more fun.”

  He stepped back to get a good look at them. “I’m so proud of you both, my heart is fit to burst. Now, let’s get to business. Adam, my Vimes confirms yours is now the dominant one and fully in control of all his avatars throughout the Empire. I’ve said my goodbyes to Freya and the other major dignitaries, so there is nothing left for me to do here anymore.”

  Alexander caught his son’s eyes and held them, for a moment a flash of his old power clearly visible. “As I have told you many times before, there is nothing worse than having an old Emperor hanging around, second-guessing or criticising all of your decisions, so I’ll be off now.” He raised his hand to silence his son before he could say anything to object. “I have my life back, such as it is, and I no longer have to serve the Empire. That’s your job now. If I stayed around, there would always be those who would seek to use me against you. I have seen it happen too many times in our families history.”

  Adam said nothing, his good mood shattered, but Karen, ever the more emotionally aware of the two, spoke first.

  “Where will you go Alex, and when can we expect to have you back with us? You will soon have a grandchild to fuss over. A child needs its grandfather, even one as grumpy as you.”

  Alexander returned her smile, Karen’s smiling face, like so many things, reminding him of his dead wife. “Christine and I always wanted to travel the galaxy and explore once Adam took over, so I am going to do it for her sake…as a remembrance of what might have been. As for how long, I genuinely have no idea. Vimes has the Quantum Signatures stored of so many systems that we have never explored yet, that my choices are almost limitless.”

  He waved his arm around up at the ceiling. “I am going out there. I’ve had the old Dauntless upgraded and refitted to sole operation. The old girl will keep me safe on my travels, so there’s nothing to worry about” He looked at Karen, “In the words of your planet’s Captain Oates, I am just going outside and maybe some time.”

  Karen, more sensitive to peoples’ mood than her husband, sent Alexander a private message. “You won't do anything silly, Alex, will you? Christine wouldn’t have wanted that, and neither Adam or I want anything to happen to you. We love you.” She opened her mind to him, revealing her thoughts and worries about what he might do.

  Warmed by her concern and obvious affection, Alexander said nothing, keeping his mind closed as he stepped forward and embraced them both again.

  “You have a reception to attend and can’t keep your guest waiting, especially this lot. I will see you again, but for now I have places to be and stars to see.” He gave them each a final hug, then turned and left the room, not once looking back.

  SCENE 25, IMPERIUM, CODA

  Alexander sat quietly in his command chair, projectors giving the perfect illusion of being alone in space. The Bridge was empty, as it had been in the months since leaving Capital. Ahead, a super-massive star filled part of the view, its light hiding nearly all the other stars. Dauntless’s sensors were providing telemetry on it to his mind, so he knew it would go supernova within the next three years. He could feel the powerful and hot solar wind on his skin and the reassuring sense of well-being coming from Dauntless. In recent weeks, Alexander found himself spending more and more time linked into the great Battleship, helping lift the dark depression that tended to now fill his waking moments. Part of him wanted to return back to the Imperium and see his son again, but the thought of Capital without Christine by his side was simply too much.

  He turned his mind back to what Dauntless was telling him. All around, the solar system was devoid of planets or asteroids, the sun’s ferocious gravity having relentlessly hoovered up every last particle of matter in the system. Even at this distance, Alexander could feel the sun’s pull trying to suck Dauntless into its fiery embrace, but the ship was more than capable of resisting. Anyway, he knew that should all motive power fail, it would still take years for the ship to fall inwards and be destroyed, such was the distance between them.

  “We’ve been sitting in this system for almost a day, Alex. Have you decided yet where we are going next?” Vimes asked, sounding a little bored, moving his physical avatar to stand next to the chair. “Now I no longer have an Empire to run, I’m finding it hard to find things to interest me.”

  Vimes had taken human form in an effort to provide Alexander with more realistic company, worried he might miss interacting with people. He needn’t have bothered, for Alexander was in no hurry to return to the Empire or anywhere else, preferring the solitude of deep space and uninhabited star systems.

  Without turning to acknowledge Vimes presence, Alexander began to speak.”What is it like for you old friend, cut off from almost everything, finally stuck with just me for company? Do you hanker for the hive mind?”

  The Vimes avatar laughed and placed a reassuring hand on Alexander’s shoulder. “No, Alex. For all my complaining, it is nice to have my own personality back. It’s just like the old days when it was just the two of us. Being virtually omnipotent to the point of a demi-god is fine, but I did miss being just me.”

  “I miss her, old friend,” Alexander said quietly, talking about Christine, “Perhaps you are the only other person who understands how much. What I wouldn’t give to have her back by my side again. Despite what I told Adam and Karen, I don’t know if I want to carry on…” Alexander’s voice trailed off as he tried to choke back the unwelcome sadness that still caught him unawares at least once a day.

  Vimes fell silent, deep in his own thoughts. He had known this moment would come and had prepared accordingly, but now found himself almost human in his uncertainty over proceeding. Throughout his long existence, such a thing as he was contemplating had only been done once before, prior to his own “d
eath,” four millennia before.

  Vimes walked around the chair to face Alexander, cancelling the projection and returning the view back to the empty Bridge.

  Alexander looked around the vast room, seeing the ghosts of all the people he had known here briefly pass through his mind, his eidetic memory recalling all their faces with perfect accuracy, now more a curse than a blessing as his thoughts inevitably turned again back to Christine.

  His voice serious and compelling, Vimes caught Alexander’s eyes and held them. “Alex. I am offering you a choice. In the long history of the Empire, you are the only Emperor to be offered it.”

  “Offered what?” Alexander asked, intrigued, and not a little taken aback by his companions serious tone.

  “Would you give up what life you have left to be with Christine again for as long as you both wanted?” Vimes asked.

  “What? You of all people know I don’t believe in an afterlife, old friend. Killing myself is tempting if only to end this pain and find peace, but it isn’t going to bring us back together again.”

  Vimes shook his head. “No, that wasn’t what I meant.” The avatar held up its hands and showed them to Alexander. “This body is made from specially programmed smart-metal, indistinguishable from a living human if the programming is detailed enough. Over the ages I have often taken human form to go about those things requiring a physical body. When Christine died, I was with her at the end and made a decision. I didn’t have the time to get your permission so took it upon myself to take action.”

  Alexander interrupted. “What action? Stop talking in riddles. What are you going on about?”

  “Over the many years Christine and I knew each other, I was building a pattern of her memories and storing them. I have also done the same for you. When Collinson attacked Christine and cut off my communication to the outside world, I was panicked for a moment, until Karen managed to disable the blocking mechanism. In those final moments, I was able to upload her mind and consciousness to my own residing in Gallagher’s flagship. I’ve kept it dormant ever since, not knowing whether I should tell you what I had done. After the Coronation, I transferred it here to Dauntless, where it resides now. She is not aware of time passing and for her, should she be awoken, the attack would have just started.”