Bones of Empire (21 page)

So it was a standoff of sorts, or had been, until a trickle of water began to flow through the grate and along the bottom of the pipe. “What's going on?” Vium wondered out loud. “Is it raining topside?”

Shani tried to remember what the weather forecast had been but couldn't. “Beats me,” she confessed. “But I hope it doesn't get any deeper. I forgot my towel.”

Vium chuckled appreciatively. “Yeah,” he said, “me too.”

Taget couldn't hear them, of course, but clearly knew about the water because he called to them from somewhere in the chamber. His voice was high and squeaky. “Can you swim?” he demanded. “Because there's a ten-thousand-gallon holding tank up-system from your location, and one of my associates opened the main valve a minute ago. It won't be long before a whole lot of water is going to shoot through that pipe and blow you out into the catch basin! That's when we're going to shoot you. . . . Assuming you don't drown, that is.”

The words were followed by a gale of maniacal laughter as the flow grew stronger and Vium's fear became almost palpable. “I don't know how to swim, SL. . . . I'm going to drown.”

“Don't worry,” Shani replied dismissively. “Taget is full of shit.”

But she
was
worried, and being an empath, Vium could “feel” it.

“Okay,” Shani said, as the water continued to rise. “Maybe this is for real. . . . Let's throw a couple of flash-bangs into the chamber and come out shooting. Given a little bit of luck, we'll take a couple of those assholes with us. Check your weapons.”

Then, before either one of them could take action, they heard a sudden rattle of gunfire, followed by the equally lethal
zing
of ricocheting bullets, as something round blocked the opening to the pipe. Then Three-Ball was inside and pushing his way upstream as the steadily increasing flow of water threatened to eject him. Shani recognized the voice that issued from the external speaker as Cato's. “Stay where you are. . . . We're coming in.”

Shani felt her heart leap even as a solid column of water blew all three of them out into the chamber, where the Umans splashed into the pool of stagnant water below. Shani heard the muted sound of gunfire as she went under but was forced to let go of her pistols in order to grab Vium and try to keep the nonswimmer afloat. The pair surfaced long enough for Shani to catch a momentary glimpse of a snarling Kelf, a bald Uman, and a plug-ugly Ur, all of whom were firing down at her as the water from the pipe roiled the surface. Then, in spite of Shani's best efforts to keep both of them from sinking, cold water closed over her helmet.

The problem was that the weight of her gear, plus Vium's stuff, was pulling both of them down as bullets plunged into the pool around them. They were deadly as they entered the water but soon lost their force, as Vium produced a string of bubbles that followed each other toward the shimmery light above. That was when Three-Ball stunned the Ur, took two rounds through his housing, and burped black smoke before splashing into the catch basin. The entire team was down.

 

 

Emperor Emor was dead, the end of an era had arrived, and the streets were swarming with thousands of people. Most of the crowds were peaceful, but there had been opportunistic rioting in Port City, the neighboring Tank Farm, and the X Quarter. That, coupled with the fact that the streets were virtually impassable, meant the command structure had been more than happy to let Cato and the Praetorians handle what they saw as a comparatively simple problem.

So, as a century of uniformed soldiers struggled to keep the surging crowd back from the rope lines that had been used to cordon off the area where four streets converged, Cato and four members of the Praetorian Guard were about to drop straight down through the four vertical pipes that were equally spaced around the intersection. They were the same drains through which grenades had been dropped during the ambush hours earlier.

The circular lids had been removed, and makeshift tripods had been set up over each opening, where they stood ready to support Cato and his companions as they lowered themselves into the system below. The Xeno cop was arguably the least-prepared person on the team since, unlike members of the bunko squad, the Praetorians practiced such maneuvers on a regular basis.

Still, Cato knew how to rappel, and that was the main skill that would be required. That, and shooting straight while dangling from the end of a rope. Every second was precious, so having received ready signs from the rest of the team, Cato gave the necessary order. “Now!”

The interior of the tube was little more than a dark blur as Cato dropped through it. There was a sudden explosion of light as he entered the chamber, followed by a jerk as he came to a halt ten feet above the catch basin.

As Cato made a grab for the weapon hanging across his chest, he saw that a horizontal column of water was shooting out of a pipe and arcing into the roiling catch basin below. Meanwhile, having been surprised by the unexpected attack, a group of armed suspects fired up at the targets dangling above them.

That was a mistake. Two of the Praetorians got off sustained bursts before Cato even squeezed the trigger. The perps fell like wheat to a scythe—and the battle was over in a matter of seconds. But where were Shani and Vium? There was no sign of them until two heads broke the surface of the water.

 

 

Having shed her body armor, Shani managed to help Vium to the surface, where she fully expected to be killed. But as their heads emerged into a maelstrom of roiling water, and they hurried to suck air into their aching lungs, both variants were thrilled to discover that the shooting was over.

Three-Ball was floating half-submerged in the pool, having taken two rounds through his CPU, but he gave Vium something to hang on to as the rescue party lowered themselves onto the ledge below. Fifteen minutes later, Shani and Vium were out of the water and up on the street, where an air ambulance was waiting to whisk them away. “I'm sorry,” Shani said miserably as she looked up into Cato's face.

“I know,” Cato replied somberly. “It wasn't your fault.”

Shani wasn't so sure. But there wasn't any point in saying that because Cato could “sense” it and already knew.

It was necessary to shout in order to be heard over the crowd noise. “What's going on?” Shani wanted to know, as Cato walked her over to the ambulance. By that time the government had preempted all of the city's video display walls in order to play carefully chosen clips of Emor's rise to power—and silvery news cams were cruising the crowd. Those who weren't out on the streets were watching from their homes.

“They made the announcement a few hours ago,” Cato replied expressionlessly. “Emperor Emor died in his sleep.”

Shani made a face. “Yeah, sure he did.”

“I know where Verafti is,” Cato said flatly.

“Are we going after him?”

“Yes, I hope so.”

“I'll be ready,” Shani promised.

“I know,” Cato replied, as a medic took over. “But it isn't going to be easy.”

“No,” Shani agreed. “It never is.” And with that she was gone.

 

 

More than two standard weeks had passed since Brunus Emor had arrived on Corin, ridden through the streets in an open limo, and made his obligatory appearance in the Senate, where he delivered the speech Usurlus had written for him.

There were those who would have preferred to see someone else on the throne, themselves, for example, but they knew that Brunus was extremely popular with the Legions, who would regard any other candidate as a usurper.

So Brunus's claim to the throne was approved by acclamation, and three days later his father was laid to rest in the Valley of the Greats, where each of the Empire's Emperors had a tomb.

Not only was the event witnessed by three billion people on Corin, but it would eventually be seen by trillions more as a fleet of courier ships raced to deliver video of the event to even the most remote colonies. Worlds which Brunus planned to visit as soon as possible to signal continuity, respect for his loyal subjects, and an interest in their problems.

But important though it was, the grand tour would have to wait while Brunus worked with the Senate to resolve a number of pressing issues, not the least of which was the threat represented by the Vords. And not just by the Vords, but by the presence of two Sagathi shape shifters hiding among them, where they could cause harm to
both
sides.

And that was why a group of three Vord diplomats and their so-called advisors had been invited to the Imperial Tower for what were being described as “follow-on talks.” Although the actual agenda, as planned by the newly named Chief of Staff Isulu Usurlus and Secretary Arla Armo, was going to be somewhat different. That was where the Xeno Corps, Primus Pilus Inobo, and Centurion Jak Cato would come into play.

First, however, it was necessary to bring the Vords down from orbit and escort them up to the reception hall adjacent to the Imperial Residence, where Emperor Brunus was waiting to greet them. And Cato had a front-row seat because he was among the Praetorian Guards who were lined up against one wall.

Like his father, Brunus was a somewhat homely man but in good physical condition and possessed of a certain animal magnetism. Unlike the first Emor, however, he preferred plain military-style tunics and kilts to the court attire his father typically affected, and was less aloof. In fact, much to the amazement of his staff, the new Emperor had a disconcerting tendency to embrace people he took a liking to, slap the backs of people he barely knew, and occasionally challenge guests to soldierlike contests of strength.

But it was quickly becoming apparent that Brunus was capable of subtlety, too, as he delivered formal greetings to the Ya parasites as well as their Vord hosts, and was careful to seat his guests in order of clan precedence. A detail sure to be noticed and appreciated.

Once everyone was seated at the table, both sides began to spout what Cato considered to be worthless time-wasting bullshit, but that was the way of things, and all he and his comrades could do was wait. The previous two weeks had been spent writing, then rewriting after-action reports related to the Galaxus Hotel shoot-out, the attack on his home, and the underground ambush. All of which had been painful and frustrating to Cato, knowing that while he was feeding the police bureaucracy, Verafti was still on the loose.

The
good
news, if it could appropriately be classified as such, was that Inobo couldn't force him to fill out a single form regarding Emperor Emor's murder since every person who knew the truth had been sworn to secrecy! And, in the case of certain Praetorian Guards, promoted and sent to distant outposts. The veil of secrecy was about to be lifted, however, but only for a moment, and only for the Vord diplomats.

Finally, once the initial mumbo jumbo was over, it was Usurlus who took the meeting to the next level. He was seated directly across the conference table from a long-faced ambassador named Narwar Lyic Enynn. The Vord diplomat was attired in a shapeless hat to which a large jewel had been pinned, a mottled gray-green parasite that hugged his scrawny neck like a collar, and a severely cut coat that was decorated with two rows of gold buttons. “First,” Usurlus said, “I would like to address an issue that while not a part of the formal agenda, should be of great concern to both parties and requires urgent action.”

Enynn, who feared the statement was a prelude to some sort of Uman negotiating trick, produced the Vord equivalent of a frown. It made his already grave countenance look funereal. His voice was deep and gravelly. “My associates and I are not prepared to discuss subjects that are not already on the agenda.”

“Of course,” Usurlus said, “we understand. However, if you would permit us to make a short presentation, I think you'll agree that the urgency of this matter justifies a break in normal protocol.”

Enynn was about to refuse, but his Ya had been listening and had other ideas. His name was Orery, and unlike his host, he was inclined to indulge his curiosity from time to time.
Let's see where the Umans are headed,
the Ya suggested.
We can always say no.

Enynn swallowed his objections. “If you must,” he said ungraciously, “but please remember our time constraints.”

Usurlus nodded gravely. “Of course . . . Thank you. As you and your distinguished colleagues already know, the previous Emperor is dead, having been replaced by his son, who is with us today.” All eyes went to Brunus at that point, and he smiled grimly.

“What you don't know,” Usurlus added soberly, “is that rather than dying in his sleep as was announced . . . the Emperor was murdered.”

It was startling news, and certainly of interest, especially if it pointed toward some sort of infighting within the Uman Empire. Infighting that could weaken the government and make it that much easier to defeat. But Enynn couldn't say that and didn't. “I hope Emperor Brunus Emor will accept our deepest condolences not only for his loss—but the unfortunate manner of his father's death.”

Unlike the earlier comment, it was gracefully said, and Brunus acknowledged that with a half bow. “Thank you.”

“Unfortunately,” Usurlus continued bleakly, “we have reason to believe that the killer murdered Emperor Emor
prior
to the recent meeting with Ambassador Nusk, and was able to board one of your ships along with the returning diplomats.”

“That's impossible,” Enynn scoffed. “Our soldiers would never allow an unauthorized Uman to board one of our ships.”

“Not one they knew about,” Usurlus conceded, “but this was no ordinary criminal. Fiss Verafti is a Sagathi shape shifter, which is to say a member of a species which can adopt the appearance of any being of roughly the same mass. Which means Verafti was able to take Nusk's place, return to your ship without arousing suspicion, and subsequently shift identifies prior to merging with your population.”