“I think not, my emperor.”
Diltan was among the many councilmen who gasped and stared in confusion at Terbal. Maf’s usual companion had risen to his feet to confront Clajak. The councilman strode to the center of the floor.
“I speak on behalf of a number of this council, my emperors and empress. Before we throw the Imperial Father to outside interests, we should take a vote on whether he should be pardoned for his so-called crimes.”
That brought angry shouts from the public gallery and several members of the council. Diltan exchanged a shocked look with Oiteil. Was Terbal serious?
The Imperial Clan looked as stunned as Diltan felt. Clajak shook his head as if he thought he was hearing things. As quiet descended in the council chamber once more, he said, “I don’t understand, Councilman. Nobek Yuder has admitted his guilt. The Royal Court has handed down their judgment. Why would we subvert their decree?”
“Because it is wrong.” Terbal waited for another round of shouting to end before continuing. “I disagree with the assertion of guilt and the sentence, as many of my colleagues do. Yes, Imperial Father Yuder is guilty of a humanitarian effort, one that had unforeseen repercussions. His intentions were pure. He committed this
crime
to save hundreds of Mataras in immediate danger.”
Bevau looked at him as if he spoke gibberish. “Earth was destroyed. Billions died. We have bowed before the need for justice, which cannot be denied.”
“Justice for what? For what Earth brought upon itself?” Terbal’s tone turned derisive, almost disrespectful. “We heard the testimony from our former colleague Dramok Rajhir’s mate. We heard and read the accounts of the other women who attested to their lives being saved by Yuder and Zarl’s actions. My heart was won by those I once opposed, as were many others. So I say now, who are we to punish a man for seeing to the rescue of all those poor women? We should be celebrating him and his deceased Dramok as heroes!”
This time a new sound rose to combat the angry mutters. The word ‘yes’ was spoken loudly by as many voices as the dissenters. A large number of heads nodded in support of Terbal.
Diltan’s heart began to pound hard. The rift was opening again. He could practically hear it ripping beneath them, threatening to plunge them into the abyss.
Maf rose and lurched out onto the floor to face off with Terbal. “This is ridiculous. Yuder is guilty. He is going to prison. The Galactic Council has demanded justice for Earth, and we must surrender to their claim on Yuder. His own son has conceded to this.”
Terbal looked at him with sneering distaste. “Since when does the Empire bow to the Galactic Council? They are on no more than a witch hunt. Since they have not been able to get their hands on the real villain in the war, Earth’s Holy Leader Browning Copeland, they are trying to make us their scapegoats. I for one will not stand by and sacrifice one of our greatest emperors to such nonsense.”
Maf’s voice shook with rage. “Are you saying we are above intergalactic law, Councilman? Would you have us ejected from the Galactic Council for one man?”
“I speak for true justice! For an innocent man, for a hero, I spit in the face of the Galactic Council. The Kalquorian Empire, first and foremost!”
The room erupted in yelling, both for and against his cry. Diltan stared at the two men on the council floor, recent friends turned into foes. Two men who were dividing the Empire once more.
Their antagonistic glares were held unblinking. Depending on one’s viewpoint, their arguments were equally compelling. To Diltan, they also sounded well-rehearsed.
To his eternal shame, he knew a thing or two about selfish manipulation of others. Toward the end of the battle over Yuder’s guilt, Maf had acted like a man determined to put Kalquorians at each other’s throats. Diltan had no doubt the man’s endgame was still to end the interbreeding of Kalquorian and Earther. Until today, Terbal had seemed entrenched in Maf’s corner.
He smelled a setup. Terbal’s colors had not changed. He was simply camouflaged now.
Around him, councilmen stood almost to a man, yelling at each other. The gallery above was a bedlam of noise. Shoving had started, and Global Security began to clear out the more irate onlookers. The Imperial Clan watched the turmoil build, their dissimilar faces identical in rising horror. They were watching the disintegration they had given so much to disarm.
It was Bevau who slammed his fist on his podium, unleashing a roar that startled everyone to silence. His fangs showed in his dark, feral face, sending a thrill of terror up Diltan’s spine. The man might have been half-Imdiko, but that softer side of him had disappeared in his rage.
His voice a blast of thunder, the Nobek emperor shouted, “Quiet in the gallery! Quiet on the floor! This is a council meeting and there will be order if I have to tear every one of your throats out to get it!”
The room was frozen in the glare of his threat. No one dared to breathe for fear the angry monster might come down from the dais to make an example of them. Even bold Jessica, sitting at Bevau’s side, stared wide-eyed at her clanmate.
Councilmen’s asses sank back to their seats. The gallery kept quiet. Bevau’s fangs hinged and his shoulders relaxed. He gave Terbal and Maf a withering stare before sitting down and snarling, “You may resume the debate.”
Bowing deeply before speaking, Terbal said, “My emperors, it is within my rights as a concerned lawmaker to call for a vote on the pardoning of Imperial Father Yuder. My motion does not call into question the Royal Court’s findings. He remains guilty of this crime some would say he committed.” He shot a scowl at Maf before finishing. “I am not one to send a man I and many others call a hero to spend the rest of his life on a penal colony. I beg of you to allow the council to speak.”
The four members of the Imperial Clan looked at each other. The expressions of Clajak, Egilka, and Jessica were clearly worried. Bevau still looked angry, glowering at no one in particular.
Diltan could have screamed. If the vote was for a pardon, then the split that Yuder had sacrificed his honor to keep from happening was still a possibility. After all they had done to stay one step ahead of revolt, Maf had engineered the perfect trap. Through that, the Basma might very well get his war. The Empire would be shaken at the best, shattered at the worst.
Looking sickened, pale as if already mourning the demise of Kalquor, Emperor Egilka was the one who gave voice to what the rest seemed incapable of saying. “It is within your rights to call the vote, Councilman Terbal.” He rose, steady despite being shaken. “But as you cast your votes, I caution all of you on this council, as duly elected representatives of your territories, to keep in mind the will of your constituents and the welfare of Kalquor. A majority vote, including the votes of the Imperial Clan, determines whether Imperial Father Nobek Yuder will be pardoned.”
Terbal turned to the risers where his colleagues sat, their handhelds already poised. With a smile that said he anticipated victory, he called, “Cast your votes, Royal Council.”
As much as it pained him on a personal level to do so, Diltan did not hesitate to vote nay to the pardon. Once again, he had no choice but to move against his conscience for what he believed to be the good of the Empire. Then there was nothing to do but wait and watch the votes tally on the large vid that hung over the chamber’s floor.
The silence was deafening as the numbers quickly climbed. Knowing that Maf was behind this latest debacle, knowing his influence and how far it spread, Diltan felt no surprise to see that the vote wasn’t even close. When the final numbers from the council came in, there was no reason to call for the Imperial Clan’s ballots.
Clajak stood. His expression was tragic, nothing like what one would expect from a son whose father would not be serving a prison sentence. As angry mutterings began to climb the register once more, he announced, “The Royal Council has spoken. Nobek Yuder is hereby pardoned for his crime.”
Maf glared at everyone, playing the affronted to the hilt. “There is still the matter of handing him over to the Galactic Council. I call for that vote now.”
Though he looked angry, Diltan imagined he saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes. Diltan shook all over, thinking how easily they had played into his plans. He fought off the urge to leap from his seat and take Maf by the throat.
Through the buzzing in his ears, he heard Clajak’s weary command. “Let the vote commence.” Barely a minute later he announced, “The Royal Council of the Kalquorian Empire has voted against the Galactic Council of Planet’s petition to extradite by a margin of two-to-one. There is no reason for the Imperial Clan to vote, though we dissent with this decision.”
Fighting broke out in the gallery, and Global Security went to work quashing the violence and arresting offenders. The Royal Guards were already mobilized around the Imperial Clan, and they held percussion blasters at the ready should anyone decide to threaten the four monarchs ... not that Diltan thought even the most enraged protestor would challenge rabid Bevau.
Meanwhile, Maf shouted over the fiercely arguing councilmen. “This is an outrage! We will not be ruled by the tyranny of those looking out for their selfish interests!”
Terbal yelled back, “If Kalquor stands alone, so be it! We will not bow to outside forces!”
Diltan watched the mayhem, knowing the greatest blow was yet to come and knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it. He felt numb in the midst of the surreal scene. Next to him, Oiteil sat with his face in his hands, unable to watch their world fall apart.
Maf’s soul, as twisted as his body, shone forth in malignance to Diltan’s eyes. The crippled councilman cried, “This empire is a mockery of its once greatness. This council is the greatest mockery! I will not be a party to the willful ignoring of what our citizens want and deserve.” Then, in a mighty bellow he added, “I resign!”
That brought a chorus of other councilmen shouting their resignations. In a parade of shaking fists and red faces, at least of quarter of the Royal Council walked out of the chamber behind Maf. Nearly half of the remaining council jeered their departure as others cried out pleas for them to come back. As fighting continued in the gallery, the Royal Guards escorted the Imperial Clan out. Jessica openly wept.
Diltan sat in his seat, his legs too numb to let him rise and run away from it all. He watched as the grinning Terbal accepted laughing congratulations for putting Maf and the rest of his ilk in their place. He wondered if he had just witnessed the end of Kalquor. He wondered if he was the only sane man left in the Empire.
Diltan announced himself at the door of the Imperial Clan’s home. Despite having been called in by Clajak, he’d had to present identification to a gauntlet of Royal Guards and submit to half an hour of interrogation by their imposing captain before being allowed through. He wondered what those who hadn’t been summoned by the monarchs had to go through to gain admittance.
As soon as he entered the small but elegant greeting room filled with several people, he bowed. He was not surprised to find his former colleague Rajhir and Dramok Ospar there with the Imperial Clan, along with Korkla and Emperor Bevau’s aide Dramok Erybet. Everyone stood, ignoring the many seating options. Their expressions said they were too keyed up to sit for conversation.
Yuder was conspicuously absent. Diltan guessed the Imperial Father was reuniting with Tara McInness.
Diltan centered his attention on the royals. “You called for me, my emperors and my empress.”
Clajak nodded. “Your counsel is wanted. We have a huge mess on our hands and are hard pressed to keep up with events as they happen. But first, how bad did it become in the council after we left?”
Diltan shook his pounding head. “A full quarter of the Royal Council resigned on the spot. More hand in resignations as the hours pass. Some are coming from councilmen who voted to pardon your father.”
“Then it was a plot to destabilize the Empire as we feared,” Clajak said. “I do not doubt Maf is behind this.”
“It would seem so. Many of those who remain, led by Councilman Terbal, voted to expel and block ambassadors from the Galactic Council from Empire space.”
Bevau appeared angry, but he looked more like his usual self than the animal that had turned so threatening in the meeting. “How large was the vote for that?”
“Enough that the Imperial Clan cannot block it, even if Maf’s supporters were there to fight it.”
Rajhir looked as sickened as he had when he’d been barred from serving the government. “It’s more than a setup. This is a conspiracy.”
Diltan realized he was clenching his fists and made himself ease. “I agree. Terbal has been in Maf’s corner for years, along with some of the other councilmen now supporting these insane measures. I think when Imperial Father Yuder pled guilty and they knew they weren’t going to be able to get at their enemies in the council, they concocted this mad scheme.”
Looking lost, Jessica asked, “What are our options now?”
Egilka said, “If we have the luxury of time, we should wait it out a few days and allow cooler heads to prevail. I hear there are protests?”
Diltan nodded. “Quite a few in all territories.”
Erybet folded his arms over his chest. He looked as capable of violence as Bevau as he said, “Global Security is on alert, ready for trouble. They have patrols all over the place, making sure their presence is noted.”
Jessica drew a deep breath, gathering her fabled strength. “We accepted the will of the council on the pardon, which was a mistake. It’s too late to issue an Imperial Decree overriding that ... not that I want my father sent to prison, you understand.”
Ospar seized upon her words. “This move to barricade against the Galactic Council can still be repealed, however. My advice is to let the matter sit for a couple of days. What’s left of the council will get past the emotional upheaval and see things with different eyes once they realize their constituents are unhappy. They may vote to overturn their own edict.”