“Cynthia Newberry? Yes, Sire. Big-city origins, parent an able administrator, lived at home until college, smaller college, raw intelligence. That’s another of the strong correlations.”
“What about Earth Sector Governor Gerber, Mr. Beadle?”
“No, Sire. He lacked one experience. The one that instilled basic values.”
“Such as honesty, Mr. Beadle?”
“Such as that, yes, Sire.”
Dunham nodded.
“What do you make of Ms. Gallo’s statement that the correlations defy logic, Mr. Beadle?”
Beadle took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“They defy logic on the surface, Sire. The correlations that score the highest are the ones that indicate the candidate has internalized strong basic values – honor, duty, loyalty – has experience in a functioning hierarchical organization, has the intelligence to think things through before acting, understands the concept of unintended consequences, has experience of and identifies with the common man – all that sort of thing. Those are the basic skill sets for good administration. The correlations uncovered the multiple ways by which one may get to that result.”
After this long speech, Beadle slumped, as if he had expended all the energy he had for the moment. Dunham nodded and turned to Gallo.
“Ms. Gallo, that all sounds right to me. And this emerged from the data analysis?”
“The correlations emerged from the data analysis, Sire. Our understanding of the correlations came from Mr. Beadle’s dissection of the results.”
“And Mr. Beadle set up the analysis in the first place, Ms. Gallo?”
“Yes, Sire. Mr. Beadle is one of our most experienced and capable analysts.”
“Within the Zoo, that’s quite a statement, Ms. Gallo.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Beadle blushed but said nothing.
“You said you have a list of candidates for me, Ms. Gallo?”
“Yes, Sire. I have to say there are no guarantees. This is just what the correlations show.”
“I understand, Ms. Gallo. Not a substitute for the decision, but an aid nonetheless.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Just having all the biographical data gathered together will be a big help by itself, Ms. Gallo.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Gallo pushed the list file to Dunham, which the simulation modeled as her handing him a printed document. Dunham scanned down the document quickly.
“Outstanding, Ms. Gallo. Simply outstanding. And these scores are the correlation scores?”
“Yes, Sire. The list is descending, from the highest score down.”
Dunham nodded.
“To carry out such a project in such a short time – Friday morning to Tuesday afternoon – is truly superb work, Ms. Gallo.”
“Thank you, Sire. We worked just about around the clock since Friday morning. I had to start forcing people to drop out of the Zoo for meals and sleep. And it would not have come together without Mr. Beadle’s breakthroughs.”
At the mention of Beadle’s name, he started and looked around. He had dozed off – in VR! – and been snoring softly, which caused Gallo to wince and Dunham to chuckle.
“How long have you been in the Zoo, Mr. Beadle?” Dunham asked.
“Almost twenty years, Sire. I like it there. I find it restful.”
Having spent time working in the Zoo himself, in disguise, Dunham could hardly believe that statement. Still, everyone has different tastes.
“Well, Mr. Beadle, for your years of work in the Zoo, and especially your work on this latest project, I am awarding you the Gratitude of the Throne.”
As a palace employee on the Imperial staff, Beadle didn’t need to be told the gold laurel-wreath medal could only be awarded by the Emperor himself, for outstanding contributions to the Empire. He levered himself up out of his perpetual slump.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Mr. Beadle.”
Dunham turned back to Gallo.
“Thank you, Ms. Gallo. And thank your whole team for me.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Dismissed.”
Dunham cut the channel.
Punishments And Promotions
Dunham and Peters were in their living room that evening after dinner. He was scrolling up and down in the output of the Zoo’s candidate evaluation.
“What are you working on so hard, Bobby?” Peters asked.
“The Zoo got me an analysis of our potential candidates this afternoon.”
“So soon? Let me see.”
Dunham pushed her the file, and she started scanning it.
“Some of the people here we had thought about,” Peters said. “For earlier openings.”
“Yes, and there are some others that were never on my radar.”
“I can’t believe we never did this before.”
“We never had this many positions open at once before,” Dunham said.
Peters continued to scan up and down the list.
“I’m flagging some that look particularly good to me.”
“Excellent. I want your advice on this.”
“You know, some of these are in the former DP and the bordering sectors,” Peters said. “They would be shorter travel times.”
“That’s good if it works out, but it shouldn’t be a priority consideration.”
“No, I agree. But given equal candidates....”
“That would be different,” Dunham said.
All the flag-row townhouses on Imperial Fleet Base Dalnimir had an office as one of the front rooms. For this conversation, Turley wanted to meet physically with the other person. For such a topic, she felt more comfortable meeting in person. So on Tuesday mid-morning, she met personally with Major Parnell in her flag-row townhouse office. Both were wearing Marine MCUs. Both wore the black fourragère of the Imperial Guard.
The major domo showed Major Parnell into the office. Turley rose behind her desk to shake his hand.
“Good morning, Major.”
“Good morning, Ma’am.”
“Please, Major, have a seat.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“It was just one week ago this morning, Major, do you believe it? One week since the rescue from city jail.”
“It seems longer, Ma’am.”
“Indeed, Major, it sure does. And your arrest operations since were carried out very well. You’re to be congratulated.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“Now on to even less pleasant business, Major. I received over fifty Imperial Death Warrants this morning directly from the Emperor for people in detention here and on Esmeralda. There are twenty-six here on Dalnimir. Carrying out these warrants is typically the role of the Imperial Guard.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Do you have any psychological or moral qualms about being in command of the execution squads, Major? You need to know there is no mark against you, if so.”
“Official corruption? Murder and conspiring to murder? No, Ma’am. I have no qualms whatsoever about commanding the execution squads.”
“You’re sure, Major?”
“One week ago this morning, our biggest concern was we would not be able to get to the jail before they managed to murder you, Ma’am. When it comes to the execution squads, I would be disappointed not to be involved.”
Turley looked him in the eye, but there was no evasion there, no sign of hesitation.
“Very well, Major. I had to ask.”
“Understood, Ma’am.”
Turley reviewed with him Derwinsky’s plan for giving the condemned a choice, and made sure he understood.
“Very well then, Major. Assemble your squads.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And remember, Major. They have the same right of refusal I gave you.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Dismissed.”
Everybody in Second Regiment knew of the murderous attack on Ann Turley in
jail. Parnell got more volunteers than he needed from Fourth Battalion alone. The volunteers drew straws for who got to be – they’re way of saying it – on the execution squads.
All the condemned were given a card explaining their options. Be taken out to the wall and shot – now, today – or take the ‘garden option’ and self-administer the suicide drug after a drink of their choice. Fruit punch, beer, red or white wine, whiskey, and cognac were the choices. These would start tomorrow, with the order determined by lottery. They were to mark the card and return it.
Everyone chose the garden option. Each card was given a number, and numbered slips were dropped in an Imperial Marine MCU cover. When all cards had been returned, the numbers were drawn, and the order of execution set.
The VR was open to the condemned for two hours that evening, to allow them to communicate with friends and family members.
Wednesday morning, the executions began at eight o’clock. A squad would drive the condemned to one of the nicest spots on IFB Dalnimir, the edge of the woods. There were flowers there along the edge of the wild, and all the base was behind them, with only the woods in front. An Adirondack chair there faced the flowers and the woods, and was itself in the shade, with a side table next to it.
The condemned would sit in the chair, and a sergeant would bring them a little tray with their drink of choice and the pulse-injector on it. Each could take up to half an hour as they chose. When they had died, a squad standing by at a covered truck would bag the body, label the bag, and put it in the truck.
Some cried, some were stoic, some were talkative. Two asked for assistance, simply not being able to inject themselves. Only one took the whole half hour. Most, after ten minutes or so, ended the tension and their lives with the injection.
By five o’clock Wednesday it was over. Among the executed were Planetary Governor Hugh Knowlton, Dalnimir Bureau of Police Director Timothy Dennler, his assistant director, Mitch Golden, Stolits PD Chief Gennady Mosin, and Blake Houghton, the publisher of the biggest Stolits newspaper, the Dalnimir Courier. There were no incidents or issues in carrying out the Emperor’s warrants.
Similarly on Esmeralda, where Lieutenant Colonel Trisha Packwood and her volunteer squads carried out the execution of twenty-seven.
When the executions on Dalnimir, Esmeralda, Earth, and Sondheim were confirmed back to the Emperor – as required of an Imperial Death Warrant – the Imperial Press Office issued one of its notoriously terse press releases.
“The Imperial Guard and Imperial Marines today carried out Imperial Death Warrants against one hundred and forty-eight individuals in the Earth Sector for official corruption and murder conspiracy. List follows.”
Wednesday morning they were working on the sector governors staffing issue.
“So what do we have now?” Peters asked.
“The planetary governor of Brado. Lionel Brower. We have him for a provincial governor.”
“Brado is a provincial capital, right?”
“Yes,” Dunham said. “In the Norden Sector, part of old Annalia, right up against the old DP.”
“OK. And who else?”
“The planetary governor of Pannia. Terry Neylin. That’s a sector capital.”
“So he would be your choice for provincial governor of Earth Province?” Peters asked.
“Yes, because he already knows how those relationships work on a combined sector, provincial, and planetary capital.”
“OK. And the planetary governor of Lucerne, Wayne Buetler.”
“Right,” Dunham said. “From the Lucerne Province of Nederling. Another provincial capital.”
“And then you have this other guy....”
“Pedro Quintero. From Serges Planet, in Gandon Province.”
“But that’s not a provincial capital,” Peters said.
“No, but before that he was the assistant planetary governor of Gandon Province, and Gandon is also a sector capital.”
“OK, so he has the experience for this.”
“I would think so,” Dunham said.
“That leaves the sector governor spot. Are you still leaning to the Dortmund Provincial Governor?”
“Horst Kleiner. Yes. He was the runner-up for Essen Sector Governor when Eugene Derwinsky retired, and he came up under Derwinsky, who’s about as good as it gets in the old DP. But I think I want someone from the DP for Earth Sector Governor. Not bring the sector governor in from outside the old DP.”
“Are you happy with these choices?” Peters asked.
“Yes. I think so. And you?”
“I’m good, Bobby. I worry about so many new people at once, but that’s going to be true no matter who we pick.”
“Yes,” Dunham said. “And there’s still more to do as these investigations roll on.”
Dunham met with Horst Kleiner at two in the afternoon Wednesday, Imperial City time, in channel 20, the blank room with the two club chairs. Kleiner had not been expecting a meeting request under an Imperial header, especially at eight in the evening in Dortmund, and he was clearly nervous. With what was going on in Earth Sector, next door, it was hardly surprising.
“Good afternoon, Governor Kleiner. Sorry to disturb your evening.”
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty. No trouble at all.”
Dunham waved to the chairs.
“Please have a seat.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Kleiner waited until Dunham had sat, then sat himself.
“Governor Kleiner, I am in dire need of a Sector Governor for Earth Sector, and you are my top candidate.”
“I am honored, Sire.”
“Would you be willing to take this assignment, Governor Kleiner? No personal impediments? Note that it is permanent sector governor, so it is the very definition of a long-term assignment.”
“No impediments, Sire. Our children are not on-planet where we are now, and I think Earth is an even shorter trip to visit us than Dortmund is.”
“And your wife would be amenable to the move, Governor Kleiner?”
“To live in Paris, Sire? Yes, that would not be a problem.”
“Very well. Governor Derwinsky is currently acting sector governor, and has his hands full, with being the acting provincial governor in two provinces, having a political neophyte as acting provincial governor in two provinces, and large gaps in the administrative ranks.”
“Provincial Governor Ann Turley, is that correct, Sire?”
“So you’ve been keeping current on the situation. Very good, Governor Kleiner.”
“Well, it is right next door, Sire, and it has been all over the news.”
Dunham nodded.
“With as short-handed as they are there, I need you to expedite your move, Governor Kleiner. I was hoping you could depart soonest, and have your wife pack your household and come along after.”
“That is easily done, Sire. Staff can handle it, for that matter.”
“Excellent. Now it is normally the Sector Governor’s prerogative to fill provincial governor positions as they open, Governor Kleiner, but a sector governor has never assumed his position when all the provincial governorships were empty. Milady Empress and I have taken the liberty of having staff vet potential candidates, and we’ve picked from among their recommendations. Take a look at this list, please.”
Dunham shoved him a file, which the simulation modeled as Dunham handing Kleiner an index card. Kleiner scanned down the list.
“As a provincial governor, I’ve had some visibility into the planetary governors on other provincial capitals. I think Pedro Quintero is the only person here I don’t know at all.”
“Governor Quintero was previously the assistant planetary governor on Gandon, Governor Kleiner.”
“Oh, he’s that Quintero? I know him as well, Sire. Given that, all of these are very good choices. I concur completely with you and Milady Empress.”
“Excellent, Governor Kleiner. I will allow you to make them the offers, then, as they will, of course, serve at your
pleasure.”
“I would be happy to, Sire.”
“And you must encourage them to make haste as well, Governor Kleiner. There is much rebuilding to be done, and Governors Derwinsky and Turley cannot be expected to hold things together while people dawdle in getting to their new assignments.”
“I understand, Sire.”
Dunham stood, as did Kleiner. Dunham shook his hand.
“Congratulations, Governor Kleiner. Advise me of your travel plans as soon as you have them.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Dunham cut the channel.
On Thursday in Dalnimir, the bodies of those executed were released to their families. They were delivered to local funeral homes per request of the family by Major Parnell’s Second Battalion.
Also on Thursday, Ann Turley received notification of the punishments for the remaining detainees rounded up in the past week.
All would have to view an admonition from His Majesty before their VR access would be restored. In it, the Emperor told them he was personally disappointed in their behavior, that – while holding positions of authority and influence, whether in the public sector or the private sector – they had let down their fellow citizens. Had abused their authority and influence, for personal gain, when they were among the best off of them all. The Emperor told them such a moral failure would not be tolerated a second time.
They were also required to take a course in VR though the Imperial University of Center (IUC) on personal and public ethics. Successful completion of this course was required for their arrest records on corruption charges to be expunged. Failure to take and successfully complete the course would be cause for the Emperor to reconsider his leniency in not applying the death penalty in their case.
All were released on Friday, driven into town on buses leased for the purpose. Where one might think the released detainees would exhibit a certain jubilation on escaping the Emperor’s wrath, they were instead restrained. They knew it had been a close thing, and the Emperor’s disapproval weighed on them.
The brigs emptied out, and the deployment buildings that had been pressed into brig service were reconfigured back to their normal condition pending crew assignments.
EMPIRE: Investigation Page 25