Кристофер Банч - Empire's End

3. To this end, you are authorized to commandeer or requisition any Imperial resources whatsoever, WITH HIGHEST AUTHORIZATION with no justification for actions of this nature required to normal-channel suppliers.

4. In addition, ANY intelligence of any nature pertaining to STEN, NI, and KILGOUR, ALEX, is to be forwarded to this station, PRIORITY ONE-ALPHA. Particularly sought is physical descriptions, habits, hobbies, speciality areas (civilian and otherwise), places where above are known to have frequented, in short, ALL data concerning above two individuals.

5. No, repeat no screening of raw data relevant to (para. 4) above is to be made.

6. (Para. 4) and (para. 5) are not to be discussed with local authorities nor any conventional division of Imperial Intelligence.

7. Any request for data in the area of (para. 4) cannot be answered at this time, and IS chiefs are advised to avoid mentioning reasons to anyone in (para. 6). This is due to some confusion and doubling of input, caused as an act of sabotage by STEN, NI, or some other conspirator yet to be discovered and indicted. As complete data becomes available on STEN, NI, and KILGOUR, ALEX, it will be immediately disseminated to all levels.

8. Under no circumstances is the information in (para. 4), (para. 5), (para. 6), and (para. 7) to be conveyed with any personnel formerly associated with the discredited Mercury Corps, nor, most particularly, with Mantis Section. In addition, any inquiries as to STEN, NI, by former operatives of this branch, especially Mantis Section, must be reported immediately , Priority One-Alpha, to P.

9. If possible, STEN, NI, is to be apprehended secretly and immediately prepared for transfer directly to Prime for trial. No information is to be released, particularly to media.

10. If, however, apprehension is made by operatives other than IS, and publicity is inevitable, STEN, NI, is to be charged with HIGH TREASON, MURDER, CONSPIRACY and ATTEMPTED REGICIDE.

Other charges will be filed after STEN, NI, has been transferred to Prime World and is in high-security custody.

11. In the event of contact with STEN, NI, and apprehension is not possible, or in the event of attempted escape after apprehension, immediate termination must be made.

12. As a corollary task, all IS operatives are ordered to devote maximum attention to uncovering the degree of conspiracy attempted by STEN, NI. However, under no circumstances is this in-vestigation to be regarded as a "hunting license" to remove other enemies of the Empire. This task is too important and too immediate to be allowed to broaden to such a degree, although operatives should maintain files on the above matter for eventual attention.

13. Successful accomplishment of this most vital mission will not only be deemed in the Highest Traditions of Internal Security, but a personal service to the Eternal Emperor himself, and so rewarded.

FOR THE ETERNAL EMPEROR

P.

THE SCHOOL OF fish broke the surface, scattering spray against the face of a wind-whitened wave, then skittered down across the trough.

Their flight was pointless. Death was close.

The sea exploded as the great creature arced out of the water in front of the school, mouth gaping as it inhaled the leader. A monstrous flipper crashed and two more of the half-meter-long fish writhed, then floated limply, momentarily stunned.

The com buzzed, and Rykor's focus on her alfresco midday meal was shattered. But she didn't answer immediately. Instead, she deliberately devoured both fish before they could recover, thoughtfully analyzing their taste.

Yes, she thought. These were not from our farm-spawnings. Yet another ground is breeding back to its proper level. True wild fish can always be distinguished. The taste is… more… more…

Pondering just what it was more of, the being that was the Empire's most gifted psychologist rolled on her back, oblivious to the raging hurricane and the below-zero-C temperatures. Rykor's flipper waved over the bone-induction com that fitted closely around her neck. Neck was an arbitrary designation—Alex Kilgour had once observed that "it hae't' be th' lass' neck, since some'at keeps her head frae bangin' into her chest, aye?"

The caller was one of her assistants, in the luxurious quarters/office she'd had lovingly built that some insensitive sorts compared to an arctic sea cave.

"I do not," Rykor rumbled, "particularly appreciate being interrupted in midmeal. Lunch, as the humans say, is important"

"There is a priority message from Prime," the assistant said, new enough to be somewhat awed by this communication from the Imperial capital. "It requires that you stand by for special duties, at the command"—and his tone grew more hushed—"of the Eternal Emperor himself."

Rykor stiffened. "What sort of duties?"

"The message was not specific. But it said the duties would almost certainly be protracted, so you are advised to bring a gravchair and pack accordingly."

No mention of the late Ian Mahoney, Rykor thought. Nor of the recently outlawed Sten. Nor did the message suggest that perhaps the Emperor—or more likely his new head of secret police, Poyndex—might also be interested in why Rykor had conferred recently, in the greatest secrecy, with one Sr. Ecu, Diplomat Extraordinaire.

Bad, bad, very bad.

"And how am I to get to Prime?"

"An Imperial ship has been dispatched. I have a confirm from the spaceport that its time of arrival is within two E-days."

Worse and worse, Rykor thought.

"Shall I reply, or wait for your return?"

"Advise that… advise that you are still attempting to contact me."

"Received. But…"

"For your own sake, if you are recording this conversation, I would suggest you blank the record immediately. By the way, that is an order."

"Are you returning now?"

Rykor thought hard. She had two E-days before the ship that could only be carrying Poyndex's gestapo and an arrest warrant arrived. Time enough.

"I am. But only momentarily. For these new duties, I shall require some time to myself, out here at sea, preparing and focusing my energies."

"Of course," the still-bewildered assistant said. Like all aquatic races, Rykor's race needed the sea not only for physical health and nourishment, but for psychic replenishment as well. "I shall have your usual travel pack ready."

"Very good. I am returning. Close transmission."

Rykor, without waiting for acknowledgment, shut the com off and bulleted back toward her home.

Two days.

Time enough for her to pack bare necessities and get to the in-atmosphere flier she had concealed underwater not far from the cave, the flier she had bought a few years earlier, when she sensed that somehow the Empire was going very wrong.

All of her expertise about intelligence was theoretical, but she had spent long years advising Mahoney when he was head of Mercury Corps and then Sten. She knew any conspirator worth his cloak always had a back door.

The rest of the back door was a small yacht she had hidden in a remote warehouse at a tiny spaceport on the other side of her world. She had two days until their arrival, then perhaps two more days while they fruitlessly searched the winter oceans for Rykor on her mythical wanderjahr—and then they would know she had fled.

Long enough, she hoped.

She even had a refuge—with the being that had first come to her with the horrid suspicion that the Eternal Emperor had gone insane.

Sr. Ecu caught the updraft that rose close to the vertical, sunbaked cliff and allowed it to loft him out of the twisting canyon, high into the sky.

Before him, centered in the vast valley, was the towering spire of the Manabi's Guesting Center.