Shades of Empire
Carmen Webster Buxton
Cracked Mirror Press
Rockville, MD
SHADES OF EMPIRE
A Cracked Mirror Press novel
ISBN: 978-0-9831871-8-9 (Kindle)
Cover art by Monica Jorgensen
© 2012
Karen Wester Newton
All rights reserved
Other Cracked Mirror books by Carmen Webster Buxton:
The Sixth Discipline
No Safe Haven
Tribes
Where Magic Rules
For Wes and Anne:
Sorry for all those times that dinner
was spaghetti with frozen
meatballs and bottled sauce
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Alexander listened, but he heard no sound other than his own breathing. He stepped as quietly as he could across the polished stone floor, then paused by one end of the delicate steel screen. He peered into the dimness beyond, but saw no sign of Celia. Had she lost her nerve?
He swallowed hard. What had possessed him to agree to do this, to follow this insane plan? The memory of Celia’s tear-streaked face came to him. It wasn’t fair to blame her for wanting to leave this place. And it wasn’t her plan, it was his. She would never have known how to avoid the security monitors, or which guardsman could be counted on to fall asleep during night duty.
A faint murmur caught his ear. Something or someone beyond the screen had moved.
A shadow darkened, solidified into a female shape. “Alexander?”
“Here,” Alexander whispered.
She moved closer. She wore a dark gown, long-sleeved, with a shawl over her head and shoulders. Her pretty face shone pale in the faint light from the corridor. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
Alexander felt a spasm of guilt for having wished himself elsewhere. “Are you ready?”
She nodded.
Alexander grasped the long pole the servants used to open the clerestory windows in the corridor, and craned his neck to look up. He pushed hard on the delicate curlicue he had spent weeks working loose. It swiveled so quickly that for a second he thought he had broken it. He waited with his heart in his throat for the sound of falling steel, but it didn’t come.
“Climb up,” he said.
She nodded and took the strap of her small bundle in her teeth, then grasped a curlicue above her head to pull herself up. Wedging her slippered feet into nooks, her bundle swinging from her mouth, she climbed to the top of the screen.
In a moment she dropped the bundle through, then her shawl.
Alexander caught them and put them aside. “Now you come through.”
She put her arms through, then her shoulders, wriggling her hips and pushing with her hands.
“Let go,” Alexander whispered, reaching up his arms. “I’ll catch you.”
In the gloom above him he could see Celia dangling from the ornate metal grillwork. She still hung by her feet, head down, with her hands clutching the elaborate scrolls and curlicues that made up the barrier to the women’s quarters.
One of her hands groped toward his. He gripped it. In a second, she grasped his other hand, and then all at once she fell through the air. Alexander had to let go of her hands to catch her in his arms.
Celia let out a tiny shriek when he squeezed her tightly.
“Shh!” Alexander said, glancing around at the shadowy corridors of the palace.
Celia didn’t weigh much. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest and smell her perfume. He set her on her feet and picked up her shawl and the bundle. “Let’s go,” he said.
She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said in a breathy whisper.
Alexander looked up and down the corridor, lit only by the dim baseboard lights that shone all night; he saw no sign of any movement. “Thank me later. You’re not out yet.”
He gave her the bundle and the shawl and took her hand. With his other hand on his sidearm, he headed through the archway that led to the back of the palace. The kitchen entrance was their best bet.
They moved as quietly as they could, taking a circuitous route to avoid tripping the security monitors. They had turned into the kitchen corridor before Alexander heard any noise other than their own footsteps.
And then suddenly, a dozen meters away, the door of the wine cellar burst open. Celia gasped and clutched Alexander’s uniform tunic.
“Shh!” Alexander said, pushing her backwards against the wall.
A figure in palace livery stumbled out into their path. Alexander recognized the butler at once, even in the dim light. The man turned and smiled a bleary smile at Alexander and then lifted the bottle in his hand.
“Why, it’s my friend Napier!” he almost shouted. “What an unexpected pleasure. Come and have some wine with me.”
Alexander sprinted toward him, intending to silence the man before it was too late.
The butler glanced at Celia and let out a chuckle. “Bring your girlfriend, too.”
A strangled cry escaped Celia.
Alexander ignored it, intent on the need to shut the man up. He got one hand on the butler’s mouth and the other around his throat, but the wine bottle smashed against the wall as the butler struggled against Alexander’s grip. The clash of breaking glass echoed in the silence, followed by the quiet sound of Celia’s sobbing.
The butler sank unconscious toward the floor. Alexander caught him in mid drop, but he heard noises anyway—a chair scraping the floor and hasty footsteps.
A tall figure in a black uniform identical to Alexander’s loomed in the doorway, one hand on his weapon, the other already activating his com.
They were caught.
• • •
“Holy crud!” said a voice on the com over Madeline Palestrino’s head.
Her pilot sounded agitated. Madeline sat up in bed and punched the video control on the bulkhead behind her. “What is it, Carmela?”
She turned just as the pilot’s face filled the tiny screen. Carmela’s dark eyes gleamed with excitement while one hand tugged at a wisp of black hair that had fallen onto her face. “It’s a life pod—made to hold a dozen people, at least—and it’s got Imperial markings.”
“What?” Madeline said again. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I had a blip on the screen, skipper. I checked it out, just to be sure before we head in-system for Gaulle, and now I can see that it’s an imperial life pod.”
It seemed unlikely that a life pod from a wrecked ship could drift this far from the established traffic lanes. The Queen Bee was here precisely because it was so out of the way, perfect for transactions with customers who didn’t want to be noticed. Imperial markings on this life pod implied that Emperor Lothar du Plessis’ forces had been in the area at some point. Not good news for the Queen Bee.
Madeline switched the video to her astrogator’s station. “Thad?”
The face that looked back at her held Thad’s normal blank, uncurious expression. His soft brown eyes blinked at her, patient but uncomprehending. There was his usual momentary
pause before he spoke. “Yeah, skipper?”
“We’re right where we’re supposed to be, aren’t we? I mean, we’re not off course, or anything?”
There was another pause, longer this time, as he looked down at his console. “We’re right on course.”
“`Hmmm.” Madeline switched the video again. “Any signs of life out there, Carmela?”
“Negative,” the pilot said at once. “Nothing moving on the life pod, no other vessels within scanner range.”
“But they’d be in suspended animation on a life pod, wouldn’t they? They’d go crazy in that space if they weren’t—not to mention running out of air.”
“Probably. But if the pod were live, it would’ve hailed us by now.”
“Any indication how long it’s been out here?”
“Nope,” Carmela said with a faint shake of her head. “If anything, it looks new.”
“All right. Hold our position for now. We’ll take a look at it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Did you get that, Thad?”
“Huh?” Thaddeus’ voice said.
Madeline just caught sight of Carmela rolling her eyes as she switched off the com. The captain smiled to herself. Carmela didn’t have the patience to deal with Thad. The man was a perfectly capable astrogator; it just took him some time to follow what was going on, when the subject was anything but six dimensional math.
Madeline pulled off her caftan and grabbed a fresh coverall from the clothes cupboard. She cast a swift glance around the tidy cabin to be sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, and then headed for the bridge.
• • •
Her first mate had a stoic expression when she told him she was leading the expedition herself. “Be careful, Maddy.”
She grinned, knowing that he wanted to go. “Aren’t I always?”
He snorted as he checked the fastening of her helmet clamps. “Sure, sure. Just like the time we went after the Emperor Lothar.”
She frowned at this mention of past adventures. “Take care of my ship, Niels,” she said as she stepped into the shuttle.
“I will.” He swung the bay door shut. Madeline heard a thunk as the lock engaged.
The four other members of the expedition, fully suited, waited for her on the shuttle. Madeline took a seat at the back and let the safety harness envelop her. A shuttle ride always made her feel claustrophobic. The confined space, defined by a center aisle with five seats on either side, seemed too small for the passengers, even now with only half the seats occupied. Also, the loss of the ship’s artificial gravity when the door locked invariably disconcerted her. Her magnetic boots held her feet to the deck, but the deck no longer felt like the floor when her arms floated at her sides.
The trip took only a few minutes. She heard the soft whir of the docking port engaging and the abrupt whoosh as their harnesses retracted.
“Face plates closed,” Madeline said.
Madeline waited until she heard four distinct clicks, and then pressed her own helmet control to close her face plate. She locked it with her chin control, and then stood up. Magnetic boots clanged on the steel deck as the five of them started walking.
The iris of the shuttle’s docking port opened smoothly, but instead of the inside of an airlock, Madeline saw the pitted surface of a docking hatch.
“What the hell?” she said under her breath. She had been last in line, but now she pushed her way forward. “What’s wrong? Why didn’t the pod hatch open?” Her voice sounded breathy on the com, as if she were out of shape.
Mahler had been in the lead. He stepped back now and used one gloved finger to trace a thick metallic ridge, just visible where the lip of the docking port met the skin of the life pod. “Look at that, skipper!”
For a moment Madeline stared at the ridge without comprehension. It looked almost like scar tissue. Finally, she understood. “It’s welded shut!”
Mahler nodded. “It sure is.”
Clinking noises sounded behind her. Madeline realized her crew members were talking to each other by touching helmets to carry the sound, so that she couldn’t hear them. “Coms on full,” she ordered at once. “If you’ve got something to say, let’s hear it.”
After a brief silence her senior tech spoke up. “Why would anyone seal up a life pod like this, skipper? Unless there was something dangerous—”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but three helmeted heads nodded in agreement.
Madeline frowned. Before she could speak, Mahler pointed again. “Hey, isn’t that—”
He stopped, and they all stared at the swirl of gold lines at the top of the hatch cover.
Madeline reached out her hand and traced the gold ridges that looped and whirled back upon themselves. “The Emperor’s personal seal.” She couldn’t feel any texture through her glove, except that the seal was solid, not holographic.
There was another silence. The crewman at the back of the line tried to shuffle his feet, and swayed back and forth as the magnets held his feet down. Lineaus was new to the crew of the Bee. He needed practice at this kind of exercise.
“So,” Madeline said, “Emperor Lothar doesn’t want us to open this life pod. Seems to me that that’s a damn good reason to cut it open right now.”
Someone sighed, and Madeline grinned. “No sense being stupid about it, though. Buchanan!”
Her senior tech started. “Yes, ma’am?”
Madeline patted the dull black surface of the hatch cover. “See if you can find out more about what’s behind this door before we cut it open.”
The line of men seemed to relax all at once. Madeline resisted the temptation to check the charge on the laser pistol attached to the leg of her suit. No sense making them more nervous.
Buchanan stepped up to the hatch and opened his tech kit. After a few minutes with a portable scanner pressed against the hatch, he shook his head inside his helmet. “I think there’s someone there. I get a life sign reading, but there’s no sound to speak of.”
“Just one person?”
He nodded, and then his eyes opened wide. “Wait!”
“What?” Madeline demanded. “What is it?”
“Voices! I hear voices. Someone screaming—a woman I think. And someone crying. No, wait, now it’s a man talking. Damn, I can’t hear well enough!”
Madeline made up her mind. “Okay, that’s enough. If Emperor Lothar has someone shut up in there, we need to get him—or her—out.”
She stepped back as her crew moved to obey her. There was no further suggestion that the life pod was too dangerous to breach. Instead, Mahler and Buchanan operated the cutting tool that was part of the shuttle’s emergency equipment, while Doc checked his medkit, and Lineaus watched the thin crack on one side of the hatch grow steadily longer.
Finally, the tool moved back to the top of the long irregular oval, almost completing the cut. Madeline stepped forward and punched the center of the oval. The piece of titanium alloy clattered noisily in the thin air of the shuttle as it bounced off the airlock walls. Beyond the opening, Madeline saw only darkness.
She stepped up to the ragged hole and shone her helmet lamps into the life pod’s airlock. Empty. The lamps made cones of light that cut through the blackness, but they illuminated nothing but an uncluttered airlock.
Mahler peered around her. “Looks damn near new.”
Madeline agreed. She climbed through the threshold they had made and took a few tentative steps. “Wait there,” she said, when she saw the controls for the interior hatch. “Let me check this out.”
This hatch looked perfectly normal. The dials appeared to be working. “Check your helmets,” Madeline called out. “There’s not a whole lot of air in here.”
She heard clinking noises as they all checked each others’ helmet clamps one more time.
Madeline engaged the control for the hatch and whirled the pointer to the unlocked position. She took a deep breath and pulled open the hatch.
Darkness. Nothing but more darkness. Madeline lea
ned into the opening and let her helmet lamps flicker over either side of the corridor. The pod had been gutted, but not in any sort of emergency. The suspended animation bays were gone, but all the power leads and other connections had been neatly stubbed off. Whoever had refitted this pod had had time to do a thorough job.
“See anything, skipper?” Buchanan’s voice sounded in her ear. “Anyone there?”
“Nothing much yet.” She took a few steps, her magnetic boots clanging on the metal deck every time she put her foot down. The empty bays made for a spooky atmosphere. Madeline checked each one, half expecting someone to jump out at her. No one did. Where had the voices come from then? The only sounds she heard were her own metallic footfalls reverberating noisily. “There’s enough air to carry sound, anyway. No gravity, though. It looks okay so far. Come on and we’ll check it out.”
More clanging echoed as the crewmen all climbed through the jagged opening and walked through the airlock to join her in the pod.
They advanced cautiously, Buchanan first. Before he even reached Madeline, he stopped at the life support controls. “Hey, skipper, look at this.”
Madeline stepped over to the console. “What is it?”
“There’s plenty of oh two aboard.” The senior tech sounded indignant. “Someone’s set the air feed to little more than a slow leak.”
Madeline lifted her brows. It seemed an odd thing to do. No one could live on that amount of oxygen, and what good was a slow leak over no air at all? “Really? Can you get us more air, then?”
He nodded and muttered something. His hands moved over the controls and in a few seconds a loud hiss told Madeline he had been successful. It occurred to her that the sound wouldn’t have carried without air.
“So what’s our status now?” she asked. “Do we still need our helmets?”
Behind the transparent polymer, Buchanan’s face twitched as he considered the question. “Give it a few more minutes. Let’s see what we find.”
Madeline nodded, and turned back to her exploration. Everyone had waited for her. She resumed the lead, and was only a few steps ahead when the corridor suddenly opened into the pod’s small bridge. A dark shape filled the space in the middle of the empty room where the navigation controls should have been.
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