after time, don’t need to see reason. They are the reason.
“Therefore, we either have to capture him… or kill him.”
‘This is the part I always like,“ Rykor burbled. ”Goal setting. It makes one feel so satisfied.“
Sr. Ecu said, “But you just explained—quite logically, I should add—that the Emperor is too powerful for us to defeat.”
“We have to keep making his size work for us,” Sten said. “Keep him in a reactive position as long as possible.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “If we can draw his forces out… stretch them to the limits… then… in theory… size won’t matter. We look for a hole—or make one, dammit—and punch through. We don’t have to take all the pieces. We only need to kill the king.”
“Assuming all these impossible things become possible,” Sr. Ecu said, “we are still left with the same dilemma as the privy council.
“Without AM2, the Empire will collapse. You know as well as I that all modern industry and transport is based on that substance. And only the Emperor knows its source.”
“The privy council spent six years trying to find it,” Rykor agreed. “And they didn’t come close.”
“I’ve thought about that before,” Sten said, remembering a late-night talk with Cind after they had first suspected the Emperor had gone mad. “I’m not so sure it’s that bad a fate. To live without AM2, I mean. When we were running out—during the privy council’s reign—things were bad, true. But at least a whole lot of beings were learning to fend for themselves.”
“It will be the end of interstellar travel,” Sr. Ecu said. “Which means we will all quickly become strangers again.”
Sten shrugged. “Maybe it’ll be good for us. Starting all over again. Besides, maybe someday somebody’ll figure a way to synthesize AM2.”
He filled his glass with stregg. “Of course, it’d be easier if I
can get him alive. Toast his toes, or something. To get the secret of AM2 out of him.“
Rykor shifted her bulk. “One large problem… just to add to the others. What if you’re wrong about the immortality aspect? What if there’s another big blast—I’m assuming you’ll take this in consideration and stay at a safe distance—and he disappears. Only to return. A few years later.”
“I still think it’s a trick,” Sten said. “Sleight of hand. Or maybe he does it with mirrors. Whatever. If I can pull this chess match off—and pin his royal behind—I promise you that whatever cosmic misdirection he’s been pulling won’t make me look the other way.”
“I see no other choice,” Sr. Ecu said. “Speaking for the Manabi—and I do have that authority—I pledge our complete support.”
“I’ll need it,” Sten said. “I’d appreciate it if you can lay the diplomatic groundwork. Obviously with total secrecy.”
“As a matter of fact,” Sr. Ecu said, “I put out a quiet word or two already.
“There are many natural allies… the kind that come with some successes. Your attack on the broadcast station was a good start. Actually, the fact that you are still eluding the Emperor’s minions is an even better one.”
“I’ll try to keep it up,” Sten said dryly.
“What about me?” Rykor asked. “How can I assist in this grand crusade?”
She burped daintily. “My, but that’s an interesting potion, Sr. Ecu. I must acquire your recipe.”
Sten rose to his feet. “Rykor, my gentle sot, you’re coming with me. We’re going to put that tricky brain of yours to work skewering the Eternal Emperor.”
“Ah ha. I fight at last To arms! To arms!”
When they rolled her tank aboard the Victory , Sten’s newest gallant warrior was snoring blissfully.
CHAPTER TEN
“We APPEAR,” STEN observed, “to be trapped.”
Cind grunted at him, still recovering her breath.
“Was this on the aerial?”
“Negative. Or if it was, I didn’t pick it up on the viewer.”
“Doesn’t matter, really. Other than we’re going
“Therefore, we either have to capture him… or kill him.”
‘This is the part I always like,“ Rykor burbled. ”Goal setting. It makes one feel so satisfied.“
Sr. Ecu said, “But you just explained—quite logically, I should add—that the Emperor is too powerful for us to defeat.”
“We have to keep making his size work for us,” Sten said. “Keep him in a reactive position as long as possible.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “If we can draw his forces out… stretch them to the limits… then… in theory… size won’t matter. We look for a hole—or make one, dammit—and punch through. We don’t have to take all the pieces. We only need to kill the king.”
“Assuming all these impossible things become possible,” Sr. Ecu said, “we are still left with the same dilemma as the privy council.
“Without AM2, the Empire will collapse. You know as well as I that all modern industry and transport is based on that substance. And only the Emperor knows its source.”
“The privy council spent six years trying to find it,” Rykor agreed. “And they didn’t come close.”
“I’ve thought about that before,” Sten said, remembering a late-night talk with Cind after they had first suspected the Emperor had gone mad. “I’m not so sure it’s that bad a fate. To live without AM2, I mean. When we were running out—during the privy council’s reign—things were bad, true. But at least a whole lot of beings were learning to fend for themselves.”
“It will be the end of interstellar travel,” Sr. Ecu said. “Which means we will all quickly become strangers again.”
Sten shrugged. “Maybe it’ll be good for us. Starting all over again. Besides, maybe someday somebody’ll figure a way to synthesize AM2.”
He filled his glass with stregg. “Of course, it’d be easier if I
can get him alive. Toast his toes, or something. To get the secret of AM2 out of him.“
Rykor shifted her bulk. “One large problem… just to add to the others. What if you’re wrong about the immortality aspect? What if there’s another big blast—I’m assuming you’ll take this in consideration and stay at a safe distance—and he disappears. Only to return. A few years later.”
“I still think it’s a trick,” Sten said. “Sleight of hand. Or maybe he does it with mirrors. Whatever. If I can pull this chess match off—and pin his royal behind—I promise you that whatever cosmic misdirection he’s been pulling won’t make me look the other way.”
“I see no other choice,” Sr. Ecu said. “Speaking for the Manabi—and I do have that authority—I pledge our complete support.”
“I’ll need it,” Sten said. “I’d appreciate it if you can lay the diplomatic groundwork. Obviously with total secrecy.”
“As a matter of fact,” Sr. Ecu said, “I put out a quiet word or two already.
“There are many natural allies… the kind that come with some successes. Your attack on the broadcast station was a good start. Actually, the fact that you are still eluding the Emperor’s minions is an even better one.”
“I’ll try to keep it up,” Sten said dryly.
“What about me?” Rykor asked. “How can I assist in this grand crusade?”
She burped daintily. “My, but that’s an interesting potion, Sr. Ecu. I must acquire your recipe.”
Sten rose to his feet. “Rykor, my gentle sot, you’re coming with me. We’re going to put that tricky brain of yours to work skewering the Eternal Emperor.”
“Ah ha. I fight at last To arms! To arms!”
When they rolled her tank aboard the Victory , Sten’s newest gallant warrior was snoring blissfully.
CHAPTER TEN
“We APPEAR,” STEN observed, “to be trapped.”
Cind grunted at him, still recovering her breath.
“Was this on the aerial?”
“Negative. Or if it was, I didn’t pick it up on the viewer.”
“Doesn’t matter, really. Other than we’re going
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