Fearful Symmetry Part 28

Hovan looked up. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Come here, please."

Hovan approached the Emperor and bowed. "Sire?"

Speaking too quietly for the newsies' mikes to pick up his words, Davis said, "Steve asked me to give you a message after he left. I'll have you brought to my working office when this Audience is over, and give it to you there." He raised his voice to its previous level.

"Cor'naya Hovan, since Ranger Tarlac's mother is not present, you are his closest available kin. We must ask if you wish to make funeral arrangements yourself, or if you prefer Us to make them."

"The Lords have already accepted him, Sire. He should have the human ceremony, whatever his rank deserves, and I do not know that."

"Very well, We will see to it. If you wish to accompany him, the medics are ready to take him to the morgue. And, Lieutenant--you have Our thanks for the way you captured that a.s.sa.s.sin. Please inform the Supreme and First Speaker that they will be taken to guest apartments until you are free to translate for Us."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

It was almost a tenthday later--two hours, Hovan reminded himself, in human terms--when a young Marine in Palace Guard dress blues entered the morgue where Hovan was watching technicians prepare Steve's body.

Their impersonality was unpleasant to him, and it was a relief to turn his attention to the NCO. Hoping he was reading the woman's insignia correctly, Hovan said, "Yes, Sergeant?"

"The Emperor would like to see you, sir. I'm to escort you to his office."

Hovan nodded, careful not to smile at the woman's expression. It would only make her obvious apprehension worse. But, once they were out of the morgue and seated in one of the small null-grav cars that served as interior transport, he did say, "I will not bite you, you know."

"I . . ." The Marine hesitated. "No, sir. My mind knows you won't, but my stomach's a lot less certain. And, sir--I've never even heard of a junior officer being granted a private audience!"

That was all until the shuttlecar pulled up before a door that was flanked by a pair of Palace Guards. As Hovan climbed out, the young Marine said, "Lieutenant Hovan, to see His Majesty." There was an air of tension from the Guards as Hovan approached the door, but neither of them said anything; one simply opened the door for him and closed it when he was inside.

Davis was waiting, now in a Ranger's plain forest green, seated at a functional steel desk. He spoke before Hovan could bow. "No formalities at this meeting, Hovan, though it probably won't happen again. I think that armchair can handle your ma.s.s; have a seat."

Hovan sat, carefully as the chair creaked, but it held. "You said Steve left a message for me, Your Majesty."

Davis leaned forward. "Yes. He told me quite a bit yesterday, while you were still on Homeworld. For one thing, he said that you were as important in bringing this peace about as he was, that if it hadn't been for your help, he'd never have made it through the Ordeal."

Hovan shook his head. "That is too much credit, Sire. I did no more than any sponsor should."

"That may be true, and I'll ask you to hold to that in public, but we both know Steve's right, too. You did a sponsor's duty, yes--for an alien, an enemy, and with a degree of sympathy no one could expect.

You acted exactly like what he called you, his brother."

"I was, yes. And I am glad that he saw the peace he wanted so. But that he should die as he did . . ."

"I know what he's become," Davis said. "I guessed, and he confirmed it. He's not dead, as either of us understand death. And the a.s.sa.s.sination today was part of his plan. So was your capture of that Firster. He couldn't tell you in advance, since he wanted your reactions to be spontaneous, and he asked me to say he regrets not being able to tell you, and hopes you understand."

"I am not surprised," Hovan said, "though I do not truly understand. I would not have disgraced him."

"He didn't think you would, Hovan. But you're no actor, you don't hide what you feel. It was obvious to everyone that you didn't know what was going to happen, and that you were angry at the Firster." Davis leaned back, looking satisfied. "You knew Steve well enough to know how he hated waste."

"Yes, Sire."

"Well, this time he outdid himself. Humanity Firsters have been trouble for years, and they've been getting more active lately, so Steve decided to let them incriminate themselves, by stopping the security scanners for long enough to let that one through with his weapon. He said his future-sense was still unreliable, but he predicted what would happen today, in outline. And so far the events have had the effects he intended.

"After you left, the Throne Room turned into chaos. Shooting a Ranger in the back, especially here in the Palace, lost the Firsters any popular support they had. Your immediate defense of the Empire, and the way you took that man without killing him--people didn't expect that from a Traiti--have started gaining sympathy for you." Davis shook his head. "There've been some results already. The newsies are demanding interviews with any Traiti they can get hold of, especially you, the First Speaker, and the Supreme--in that order. I can have you protected from them, if you want."

"Steve did not like reporters," Hovan said, "and from what I have seen, I do not either. But that must be part of his plan, so I will meet with them."

"Good, because you're right. It is part of what he hoped for. Public relations can make people realize you're part of the Empire now, not enemies. The newsies are good for some things, no matter how aggravating they are at times."

"Steve brought peace, with all honor; that is the important thing. He has truly earned our t.i.tle for him."

"He has a t.i.tle beyond 'Lord'?"

"We call him 'Peacelord.'"

"Peacelord." Davis nodded. "A good epitaph for anyone. 'Esteban Tarlac, Ranger and Peacelord.'"