EMPIRE: Investigation

by Richard F. Weyand

“Oh, I wasn’t saying it wasn’t. We just have a little dead time, is all.”

  “And then what?” Turley asked.

  Gulliver shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Go home, I guess.”

  “And where is that, exactly?”

  Gulliver shrugged again.

  To that question, there was no answer.

  As it turned out, the question of where to go next was decided for them. The next morning, they both received the same message from Section Six.

  To: Paul Gulliver

  From: Marge Upton

  Subject: Assignment

  Report to Imperial Palace on Center. Advise travel plans andxarrival date/time when you have them.

  “Did you get a mail this morning?” Turley asked.

  “Yes. Interesting.”

  “So it’s real?”

  “Oh, sure,” Gulliver said. “It has the -dxa- typo. And it’s characteristically terse.”

  “It’s worse than terse. It doesn’t say to do what. There’s no assignment. It just says to go report there.”

  “Yep.”

  “So what do we do?” Turley asked.

  “Go report there.”

  “That simple.”

  “Yep,” Gulliver said.

  He shrugged.

  “Orders is orders.”

  “You ever been to Center before?” Turley asked.

  “Nope. First time for me.”

  “Me, too. I wonder what’s going on.”

  Turley took her leave of Derwinsky that day. She sent him a meeting request and he took it right away. They met in the exquisitely comfortable simulation in front of the stone fireplace.

  “I thought I would meet with you and take my leave of you, Governor Derwinsky.”

  “How very thoughtful, Governor Turley.”

  “I’m not a governor anymore, Governor Derwinsky.”

  “On the contrary, Governor Turley. That’s a title that sticks with you, even once out of office.”

  “Ah. I didn’t know that.”

  Turley looked at the fireplace and sighed.

  “It’s so pleasant here. I’ll miss our meetings, Governor Derwinsky.”

  “That is a perfect segue to a little parting gift I have for you, Governor Turley.”

  “A gift? Now I feel bad. I didn’t bring you a gift, Governor Derwinsky.”

  “No, no, that’s fine. At my age, anything I truly wanted I had long ago. But I do have something for you, Governor Turley.”

  He pushed the file to her. He only pushed her the pointer, as it was a large file. With the pointer, she could download it from his account herself later. She peeked at the header and gasped.

  “The simulation file for this room. Thank you so much, Governor Derwinsky. That is a truly precious gift.”

  “I’m glad you like it, Governor Turley.”

  “Oh, I love it. Thank you, Governor Derwinsky. And thank you as well for your governor lessons. I already had the military command skills, but you extended them into the bureaucratic space.”

  “Once you learned how not to let your reports harry you, Governor Turley, you were a fine provincial governor. You have another career path there, if you wish it. I will certainly give you my recommendation.”

  Turley waved it aside, but Derwinsky persisted.

  “That was not a casual compliment, Governor Turley. Please, if you do consider such a position, use me as a reference. You have what it takes, and I mean that.”

  “Thank you, Governor Derwinsky. For everything.”

  “You’re very welcome, Governor Turley. My best wishes go with you.”

  Turley also took her leave of General Walsh and Admiral Zhang. When she went to take her leave of Major Parnell, though, he had news.

  “I’m actually heading off-planet myself, Ma’am.”

  “To where, Major?”

  “To Center, Ma’am. I’m being reassigned back to the Imperial Palace. I leave tomorrow on the Solar Corona.”

  “The Solar Corona?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “So do we, Major. Perhaps we’ll see you aboard.”

  “I look forward to it, Ma’am.”

  “Until then, Major.”

  Turley dropped out of VR to find Gulliver in the bedroom of the townhouse, going through the hidden compartments in his trunk before packing it with his other things.

  “Guess what? Major Parnell has been called back to the Imperial Palace. He leaves on the Solar Corona tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’ll be fun,” Gulliver said. “We’ll have someone else to talk to.”

  “Any bets the military has him in second class?”

  “No, actually.”

  “I’m going to fix that.”

  Turley dropped back into VR and called the first-class customer assistance line of Grand Terran Lines on Earth. She used her own avatar of Ann Turley in one of her expensive interstellar-imported business suits.

  The line was answered by the same woman – name tag Susan – who had taken Jan Purny’s call months before. But when she saw Turley, and her name showed up on the woman’s customer service screen, she gasped.

  “Please wait one moment, Governor Turley.”

  Soon the forty-year-old supervisor – name tag Steve – she had spoken with before as Jan Purny appeared.

  “Yes, Governor Turley. How may we help you today?”

  “I’m traveling tomorrow on the Solar Corona to Center.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I have you and Mr. Gulliver confirmed in a first-class suite.”

  “That’s right. And accompanying us is Major Daniel Parnell, but I don’t think he’s booked in first class.”

  “Yes, I see Major Parnell in second class, Ma’am.”

  “I want to upgrade Major Parnell to first class, please.”

  Steve worked some magic on a pseduo-terminal in front of him.

  “Very well, Ma’am. It’s all taken care of.”

  “And what do I owe you for the upgrade?”

  “There’s no charge, Governor Turley. Have a pleasant trip.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  Turley dropped out of VR back into the bedroom armchair. She laughed.

  “You upgraded Parnell to first class?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s so funny?” Gulliver asked.

  “No charge.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Turley said. “Or rather, ‘There’s no charge, Governor Turley.’”

  “Oh. That makes me wonder what kind of assignment they could possibly send us on now. Kind of hard for a former sector governor to be an undercover agent.”

  “Exactly.”

  They arrived at the spaceport half an hour before lift. When they walked into the Grand Terran Lines passenger lounge, Turley saw Major Parnell at the check-in counter. She walked over.

  “But there must be some mistake,” Parnell said to the check-in clerk.

  “No mistake, sir. You are listed as a first-class passenger.”

  Turley interrupted.

  “Excuse me, Major. Grand Terran Lines upgraded you to first class as a member of my party traveling with me to Center. It’s all OK.”

  “Oh. Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t me, Major. Grand Terran Lines made the upgrade.”

  “Thank you, then,” Parnell said to the check-in clerk.

  “You’re welcome, sir. And I’ve checked you and Mr. Gulliver in as well, Governor Turley.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem, Ma’am. Have an excellent trip.”

  Parnell and Turley walked away from the counter and over to where Gulliver had just had the porters take their baggage.

  “Apparently sector governor comes with a bunch of perks that aren’t listed in the official handbooks.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I do appreciate it. I wasn’t looking forward to seven weeks in second class.”

  “No one does, Major. You’ll find the first-class dining room is matc
hed only by the first-class gym, and it’s a good thing. The first-class dining room without the first-class gym would be distinctly unhealthy.”

  Parnell laughed.

  Parnell’s bags were also taken from him by the first-class porters. They rode up to the Solar Corona in the first-class section of a capital-planet shuttle, and were ushered to their cabins by an assistant purser. Their baggage was all delivered to their rooms by first-class porters.

  The Solar Corona shed its parasites and accelerated through the number-two Dalnimir hypergate.

  Grand Terran Lines wanted to seat the party together at meals, but Sector Governor Turley was to be seated at the Captain’s Table, with the end result being that they all were. The three of them therefore made an effort to be at least presentable for meals, Turley and Parnell opting for MCUs at breakfast and lunch, and MDUs at dinner.

  Four days into the trip, the Solar Corona dropped out of hyperspace for a stop at Earth, the sector capital, before going through the massive Earth hypergate and back into hyperspace for a direct flight Earth-to-Center. This was one of the direct routes Gulliver and Turley had eschewed on the way to Dalnimir, not wanting to have their path to their undercover assignment be trackable back to the Imperial capital.

  Then it was six-and-a-half weeks in hyperspace, with all the tedium that implied. Weeks of meals, and gym, and reading. Turley also worked in the tactical shooting sims to make sure she had not lost her edge. Sometimes she curled up with a good book in the living room simulation Derwinsky had given her.

  At one point, when she had run into Parnell in the gym, they were both cooling down.

  “So what is your assignment on Center, Major?”

  “I’m being recalled to the Imperial Palace, and put on the Emperor’s personal detail, Ma’am.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. At the same time, they confirmed my promotion to major out of the zone.”

  “And how old are you, Major?”

  “I’m twenty-seven, Ma’am. Six years out of the Academy.”

  “That should be more like ten years for major. I wouldn’t concern myself that somehow you’re out of favor, Major.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I hope you’re right.”

  Seven weeks out of Dalnimir, Solar Corona dropped out of hyperspace in the Center system. Sector Governor Turley and her party were, of course, in the first shuttle down to the surface, in the first-class section of the shuttle. The first-class section had all views out of the shuttle available in VR, and Turley watched avidly as the shuttle dropped down toward the Center spaceport.

  There was Imperial City, and there, in the center, was Imperial Park, thirty square miles of low-rise buildings and green space in the heart of the city. As the shuttle came down, the size and number of the buildings came into sharp relief. Of course, Turley had seen VR recordings of the capital before, but they had failed to capture what the simple view from the descending shuttle made clear.

  It was a really big city.

  It was also a really big spaceport. The shuttle landed in the middle of square miles of epoxycrete. The terminal building looked to be a mile or two away. Turley wondered how that was going to work, but, once the pavement had cooled enough to let them depart the shuttle, an elevator lobby rose up out of the pavement in front of them. They walked into the elevator lobby and took an elevator down to an arrival lounge. Their baggage would be sent on ahead – but to where?

  “So now what?” Turley asked Gulliver.

  “I don’t know. Hotel, I guess.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yes, Major.”

  “May I ask what your orders say, Ma’am?”

  “They say to report to the Imperial Palace.”

  “That’s what I thought, Ma’am.”

  Parnell turned and walked up to the first-class counter. Both he and Turley had worn Imperial Guard MDUs for arrival on Sintar.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Baggage for first-class passengers Turley, Gulliver, and Parnell is to be delivered to the Imperial Palace.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Parnell walked back to Turley and Gulliver.

  “That’s it, Major?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. The Imperial Guard has a home in Imperial City. It’s called the Imperial Palace.”

  Major Parnell led Turley and Gulliver through Imperial City spaceport. They took slidewalks to the central terminal, then escalators deeper below ground to high-speed trains, and then a high-speed train into the city.

  “We could call for a car, Ma’am, but this is faster. By quite a bit, actually.”

  They got off the train at the Imperial Park West stop and took escalators back up, getting off at an enclosed arcade level.

  “The streets are one more level up, Ma’am. But there’s slidewalks on this level.”

  Turley and Gulliver let Parnell lead them through the city, gawking at the sheer scale of everything. They rode slidewalks for blocks, moving from one to the next both at intersections and mid-block. Parnell left the slidewalk and led them to a black marble storefront, IMPERIAL PALACE in brass letters across the front above the heavy smoked-glass doors. The doors slid open as they approached.

  Parnell ignored the clerk behind the counter and led them through a set of glass doors on the other side of the lobby and into a people-mover car. Once they were seated, the car took off down the track in its tunnel, running under Imperial Park.

  “I assume you’re manipulating all the controls for this in VR, Major.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’m back home.”

  After five minutes in the people-mover, it pulled up at the Imperial Palace stop. They got out of the car and walked through another set of sliding doors into a large hallway running left and right. This hallway, too, had slidewalks, and Turley could see maybe two blocks in either direction.

  “This is the lower basement of Imperial Palace, Ma’am. The slidewalks run to the Imperial Administrative Building to your right and the Imperial Research Building to your left. I actually have your room assignment, Ma’am, and I can take you both directly there.”

  “Lead on, Major.”

  Parnell walked across the hallway, picking his way through the passing traffic, and to an elevator lobby on the other side. They got into a car and it started up. There were no controls in the car, and Turley checked in VR. She found the controls for the elevator and was shocked to find she had access to all the floors, including two upper floors labeled Imperial Residence.

  They got off on one of two floors labeled Residence Wing, and Parnell led them down the hall.

  “You should be able to see room numbers in VR, and see which room is yours.”

  Turley checked, and, indeed, there it was. When they got to the room, she unlocked the door and Parnell waved them in.

  “Most people, the first thing they want to do is open the wall, Ma’am.”

  Turley looked in VR and saw the room controls. One set was ‘Open Curtains’, ‘Open Sheers’, and ‘Open Wall’. She pushed ‘Open Wall’. On the other side of the room, covered from one corner to the other in floor length curtains, the curtains began to open. When they were open the sheers opened, exposing a magnificent view down Palace Mall. Finally, the glass itself opened in sections, folding into the wall on either side. The whole width of the room opened out onto a glass-railed balcony.

  “Oh my God,” Turley said.

  “Welcome home, Ma’am.”

  New Assignment

  They had arrived at Imperial City spaceport at about noon after an early big breakfast aboard ship. They were twelve hours off from Stolits on Dalnimir, but ship time had been adjusted by about fifteen minutes a day during the trip so ship time agreed with Imperial City time when they arrived. It was now late afternoon. After all the moving, they were content to just sit on the balcony for a while.

  “Just look at this,” Turley said. “There, the Throne Room.”

  She pointed to the gothic struc
ture, remaining from the original palace hundreds of years ago, jutting out from the front of the current palace below them.

  “The Statue of Ilithyia II.”

  She lifted her extended hand toward the cast-in-color epoxycrete likeness of the Last Empress of Sintar, in the middle of Palace Mall, forty feet tall, on a sixty-foot Doric pedestal.

  “It’s like finding out Wonderland is real.”

  “It’s amazing, all right,” Gulliver said. “Especially viewing it from here.”

  The door buzzer sounded, and Turley got up and went to the door. Palace housekeeping staff had their baggage from the spaceport. She waved them in and they put it in the bedroom of the apartment.

  “Will you need any assistance unpacking, Governor Turley?”

  “No, thank you.”

  They bowed out, and Turley went back to the balcony.

  Parnell had told them there was an Imperial Residence guide in VR, and she had scanned it quickly sitting out on the balcony. Her stomach growled, and she recalled the section on meals.

  “Hey, it’s coming up on dinner time,” Turley said. “We should go eat. There’s a cafeteria.”

  “All right.”

  She changed from MDUs to MCUs, the cafeteria being noted in the guide as ‘casual’ for breakfast and dinner. Gulliver changed from his corporate salesman suit into slacks and knit shirt. They went down the hall to the cafeteria elevator, the ‘back elevator’, and took it down three floors. It dropped them out right at the cafeteria entrance.

  Dinner tonight was Chateaubriand – the entire filet mignon of beef, roasted whole, and sliced to request by the chef in the cafeteria line – with either a Bordelaise sauce or a sauce au poivre, lobster tail with drawn butter, blanched asparagus tips with a Hollandaise sauce, clam chowder, and shrimp cocktail with both a Remoulade sauce and a tomato-horseradish sauce. There was a salad bar, as well as a drinks counter with a full bar. Dessert was key lime pie or chocolate mousse cake.

  “Some cafeteria,” Gulliver whispered to Turley as they moved down the line. “This is as good as the captain’s table on the Solar Corona.”

  “For His Majesty’s closest personal staff, what would you expect?”