Кристофер Банч - The Return of the Emperor

Sten swore he did.

"Then, by the authority invested in me I appoint you chief officer of this Tribunal," Sr. Ecu intoned.

Although he had known exactly what was to happen, Sten felt a little intimidated by Sr. Ecu's stern speech. It was also a little comforting that the old diplomat meant every word he was saying. This Tribunal would be no sham.

As he left the garden, Alex and Mahoney were waiting to enter. A few minutes later, they returned, as quiet and humble as he.

In silence, the three started back for their quarters. But as they did so, a small group of guards broke away from the ones posted outside. Sten gaped at them as they took up position around him.

One of them was Cind. Her eyes shone with excitement as she hustled her charges into proper order. Then she drew up before Sten and snapped him a sharp salute.

"Is everything to your satisfaction? Sir!"

"What in the world are you talking about, woman?" Sten grated out.

"Why, this is your bodyguard, sir," Cind said, barely suppressing a grin. "If there are any complaints, please address them to me—the commander of your guard."

Sten sputtered he wasn't having any of this. He didn't want a bodyguard, or need a bodyguard. And furthermore…

"Sr. Ecu's orders. Sir!" came Cind's response.

Before Sten could argue any further, his two friends burst into laughter.

"Better do as you're told, young Sten," Mahoney admonished.

"Aye, lad," that clot Kilgour said. "Ye're a braw an' noble person, noo. Cannae be riskin't th' life ae th' chief ossifer ae th' court, noo can we?"

As a very happy Cind escorted him back to his rooms, Sten had murder in his heart—and two likely victims chortling nearby.

The opening of the Tribunal was delayed half the morning as thousands of beings converged on the hall. Assigned seats were quickly filled, and the inside temperature soared past the ability of the climate machines to keep control. Outside, thousands of the curious fought to get within seeing and hearing distance of the vid screens and big speakers set up to display the proceedings.

Troops forced wide avenues through the crowds to admit the news livie crews. Their warrior tempers were sorely tested as they pushed and prodded, rather than breaking heads, or simply opening fire. Eventually, order was restored.

A great silence fell as every being craned to get a view of the still-empty stage. It was not just the threat of violence that kept the peace, or anticipation of a one-of-a-kind event in Imperial history.

Above the stage was an immense portrait of the Eternal Emperor. It was a romantic likeness, grandly heroic, of the style favored by the late Tanz Sullamora. Except for the eyes. Sten shivered when he looked at them. They bored straight out, stabbing into the soul of every being.

Sten knew the look. "Well, you puny little being," they seemed to ask. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

The icy grip of that painted glare was broken when Sr. Ecu gave a flip of his tail and skimmed out over the stage. The only sound from the crowd was an unconscious drawing in of breath. Then the three Tribunal judges followed. They took positions at the bench.

There were a few hushed whispers as legal clerks wheeled in carts of documents. Dean Blythe took up his post to the far right. He was to oversee the sanctity of the computer that would serve as the official recorder.

Livie crews dollied in for a series of symbolic tight shots, starting first with Warin, then Rivas, then Queen Mother Apus—and finally Sr. Ecu. The old diplomat waited a few dramatic moments, then spoke.

"The proceedings of this Tribunal are now officially open."

Such a simple sentence, but it brought a gasp from the crowd. Everyone knew that from that moment on, every word uttered was a direct challenge to the privy council's authority.

"We are present to hear evidence concerning grave charges brought against the governing body of this Empire. The fact that these proceedings are being held under armed supervision to protect us from this same body is to have no influence on any member of the Tribunal. All three judges have agreed and sworn to this.

"My first official act of these hearings is to invite the presence of any and all members of the privy council to answer or refute any evidence brought against them.

"This is no empty act on my part. I personally plead with each and every one of them to respond…

"Now, for the reading of the bill of indictment:

"Members of the privy council, you have been charged with conspiracy to murder the Eternal Emperor.

"In your absence, a not-guilty plea will automatically—"

The rest was buried in the screaming, shouting reactions from the crowd. It took three more hours to regain control.

By then, there was not much time left before the Tribunal recessed for the day. The only action of real note was that the three judges drew straws to determine who would speak for the privy council, and who for the prosecution.

Queen Mother Apus—who despised the Kraas—ended up their fervent official supporter. Sten was amazed how quickly and ably she took up the task, despite her hatred for the twins, as well as their colleagues. Rivas, who was partial to Sr. Kyes, became the privy council's prosecutor. His voice became instantly tinged with bitter irony whenever a speck of evidence was brought forth against the council.

Sten would have loved nothing more than to become one of the crowd, to witness the events and see justice fairly done, just like any normal being who was fortunate enough to be in this place.

But that, as the Bhor might have said, was not to be his fate. "At the forges of the gods," Otho had once said when deep in his stregghorn, "it is our curse to always be the hammer when they strike."

Poyndex was not a being of temperament. Long before, he had put away anger with his childhood toys. He left elation behind with adolescence. In fact, there was not one emotion he did not have under control. Ambition was the only fruit he nourished in this garden of the middle ground. Achieving power was his only pleasure.

So as his colleagues on the privy council raged at the "shocking and spurious allegations" of Sr. Ecu's Tribunal, he knew fear for the first time in his life. He saw the power slipping away.

The instant he saw the liviecast of Sr. Ecu's announcement of the murder charges, he believed it was true. The reaction came from the gut. As he rushed to the hastily called meeting of the council, the surer he became. It became clearer to him as he entered the enormous building the council had constructed as its headquarters. The odd, towering tree that grew up through the central courtyard seemed withered and ailing. For Poyndex, who was not a being taken to symbolic thought, the condition of the rubiginosa still seemed to bode ill.

It just made more sense that the assassination of the Emperor was not the act of a lone madman. A conspiracy was far more likely. And who had the most to gain from such a plot? The answer became all too obvious as he entered the meeting room.

Everyone was in a bellowing rage. The Kraa twins were purple with fury. Lovett kept pounding on the polished meeting table, screaming for bloody action. Malperin was letting loose an odd stream of obscenities at the awful lies being told.

When he saw the violent reaction, Poyndex knew his instincts had been on the mark. He was looking at the beings who killed the Eternal Emperor.

Why else all that outrage? If the charges were false, then it was merely a ploy by their enemies. The council members were all experienced businessbeings who had dealt with such mudslinging all their professional lives.

He also noted their faces when they were in between bellows, gasping for breath. He did not imagine the guilty looks of fear they exchanged. The capper was the Kraa twins. In their anxiety, they immediately switched roles. As they consumed the usual huge quantities of food, the skeletal one stopped her endless trips to the fresher. Instead, the obese one became the twin who was constantly heading off to vomit.