Кристофер Банч - The Return of the Emperor

"It is unsatisfactory," the Emperor started, "compared to what—" He stopped.

There was no response whatever from the Grb'chev. The Emperor moved out of Kyes's line of sight. Neither Kyes's head nor eyes shifted. The Emperor went to him and moved his hand across Kyes's field of vision. No response.

Perhaps it was the shock, realizing that there was no Holy Grail for Kyes or his species. Perhaps it was less dramatic—he was far beyond his time.

Kyes's mouth fell open. Digestive fluids dribbled from it.

The Emperor quickly checked the vital-signs indicator on Kyes's belt. All physical indicators… normal.

He snapped his faceplate closed and hurried toward the exit, then turned back.

The idiot that had been Kyes still stood as it had, held erect by the weight of his suit.

"Poor, sad bastard," the Emperor said again.

It was the best epitaph he could manage—and the only one he had time for.

The scholars of Newton wore a perpetual puzzled expression that an agro-world student once compared to a cow who had just had an inseminator's burly fist jammed up its behind. As the Tribunal neared its opening, Sten saw the puzzled look jump to open, smiling surprise. Kilgour said it was as if the fist had been replaced by the real thing.

Never in its dusty, academic history had the thousands of professors who toiled on the university world been paid so much attention.

When word was purposefully leaked of the events about to unfold, livie crews from all over the Empire raced to Newton to beat the expected privy-council crackdown. Newton's administration was nearly buried by requests for permission to attend, not just from news teams, but from political experts, legal scholars, historians, and the merely curious.

Sten, Alex, and Mahoney scrambled like mad beings to set up a security system to sift through the millions of requests. The task was especially difficult, because the whole idea was to give maximum exposure to the Tribunal's proceedings. They managed to get it all in hand—plus hundreds of other details—before the public opening.

Meanwhile, Dean Blythe, his faculty, and the millions of students who attended the many colleges that made up the university system, were besieged for interviews. No dull fact, boring reaction, or drab bit of color was too lowly for the news-hungry media. For a short time every resident of Newton was a livie star.

The information hunger was particularly intense, because although Sr. Ecu had revealed the general purposes of the Tribunal—sitting in judgment of the privy council—he had kept the nature of the charges secret to all but the judges. Everyone believed the bill of indictment involved the AM2. In other words, conspiracy to defraud. Sr. Ecu could only imagine the surprise when the real charges were announced: Conspiracy to murder.

Sr. Ecu had chosen Newton because of its long history and reputation for impartiality. He had expected, however, tremendous difficulty in getting Dean Blythe to agree to host the Tribunal. Instead, once the security precautions had been detailed, the agreement was quickly reached. It helped that Dean Blythe had been an Imperial general before he had taken up the life of a scholastic. More importantly, one of the first places the privy council had chosen for its budget cuts was Newton. Those cuts had been followed by a host of others as the Imperials trimmed and trimmed to keep the economic ship afloat.

A hefty donation of the AM2 Sten had stolen smoothed the rest of the way.

A huge auditorium was quickly prepared. A long court bench was installed on the stage for the members of the Tribunal. The backstage area was converted into offices for the legal support group. Outside and inside, potential security danger areas were plugged. Teams of guards were assigned to the livie-crew techs responsible for installing communication lines.

Meanwhile the Bhor fighting ships spread out around the Jura System and its capital world of Newton, or began patrolling areas believed most likely for attack routes.

In the midst of all that, the members of the Tribunal and their retinue arrived. Sten and Alex personally greeted each being and assigned the bodyguards who would shadow them from that moment on.

Sr. Ecu had chosen three beings to sit as judges over the privy council. Despite the great danger involved, he had no shortage of volunteer candidates. The depression triggered by the privy council's actions had become so deep that many systems feared for their own survival far more than they did Imperial reprisal.

The three systems he eventually drew from were among the most respected in the Empire—as were the beings who would form the Tribunal.

The first to arrive was Warin, from the great agricultural worlds of Ryania. He was a big, ponderous thinking being whose heavily bone-plated skull hid a three-brain mental system capable of sifting through mountains of conflicting information. Warin was slow and to the point, but he always arrived with plenty of thinking ammunition. He was also completely open-minded as far as the crimes alleged against the privy council.

The second was Rivas, from the distant frontier territory of Jono. Rivas was a slender, quick-witted human, noted for his ability to find middle ground where little existed—an important, much honored skill in the wilds of Jono, where there sometimes seemed more opposing viewpoints than people. He had warned Sr. Ecu that, although he despised the current actions of the privy council, he did not necessarily believe that they were all acting out of selfish motives. His opinion of Kyes, for example, was quite good. His previous dealings with the being had all gone well and had shown Kyes to be honorable.

The final member was perhaps the most respected. Her name was Apus, and she was the Queen Mother of Fernomia. She was very old and cared not a bit that her title carried no royal authority. Her many daughters and granddaughters oversaw the billions of females and few million males who made up the populations of the Fernomia Cluster. Despite her age, her health was excellent, her six spindly legs sturdy, and her mandibles as fluid and flexible as when she had been young. She confessed to Sr. Ecu that she despised the members of the privy council—especially the Kraa twins, who some years earlier had cheated her people out of a fortune in mineral rights—but Sr. Ecu knew that would not affect the Queen Mother's impartial consideration of the evidence.

The three beings were installed in comfortable, well-guarded quarters. Just before the Tribunal was convened, Ecu huddled with the three judges to lay out the rules they would operate under.

It was agreed that he would be the Tribunal referee. It would be his responsibility to see that all evidence was fairly presented and weighed. Any rulings he made could not be overturned. He would also be the public spokes-being for the Tribunal. All queries would be addressed to him, and he alone would be permitted to answer—after consulting with the three judges. It was also agreed that Sr. Ecu would be responsible for gathering evidence and presenting witnesses. The three voted to invest him with authority to swear in court officers to accomplish these things.

Afterward, Sr. Ecu rushed about, dotting the i's and crossing the 't's on the final details.

When Sten was summoned to Sr. Ecu's garden quarters, he noted how tired the old diplomat seemed. His sensing tendrils twittered with nervous exhaustion; his color was gray and poor. But Sten had no time to sympathize or comment—Sr. Ecu ordered him to raise his right hand.

Sten did as he was told.

"Do you swear to uphold the integrity of these proceedings and the ancient laws of the Empire under whose sanctity we act?"