The Collapsing Empire (The Interdependency #1)(6)

Attavio VI hated Xi’an and never stayed there longer than absolutely necessary. He certainly had no intention of dying there. Brighton was his home, and outside it, a thousand or more well-wishers pooled near its gate, cheering for him and occasionally breaking out into the imperial anthem or “What Say You,” the cheering song for the imperial football team. All of the well-wishers, Cardenia knew, had been thoroughly vetted before they were allowed within a klick of Brighton’s gate and within earshot of the emperox. Some of them didn’t even have to be paid to show up.

“How many did we have to pay?” Batrin asked.

“Hardly any,” Cardenia said.

“I had to pay all three thousand people who showed up to cheer my mother on her deathbed. I had to pay them a lot.”

“You’re more popular than your mother was.” Cardenia had never met her grandmother, Emperox Zetian III, but the tales from history were toe-curling.

“A rock would be more popular than my mother,” Batrin said. “But you shouldn’t fool yourself, my child. No emperox of the Interdependency has ever been that popular. It’s not in the job description.”

“You were more popular than most, at least,” Cardenia suggested.

“That’s why you only had to pay some of the people outside the window.”

“I could have them dismissed, if you like.”

“They’re fine. See if they take requests.”

Presently Batrin napped again and when Cardenia was sure he was asleep, she got up from her chair and exited into her father’s private office, which she had commandeered from him for the duration and which would be hers soon enough in any event. As she exited her father’s bedroom she saw a squadron of medical professionals, headed by Qui Drinin, imperial physician, descend upon her father to clean him, check his vitals, and make sure he was as comfortable as someone who was dealing with a painful and incurable disease from which he would never recover could be.

In the private office was Naffa Dolg, Cardenia’s recently appointed chief of staff. Naffa waited until Cardenia had reached into the office’s small refrigerator, acquired a soft drink, sat down, opened the drink, had two swallows from the container, then set the drink down on her father’s desk.

“Coaster,” Naffa said to her boss.

“Really?” Cardenia said back.

Naffa pointed. “That desk was originally the desk of Turinu II. It is six hundred fifty years old. It was a gift to him by the father of Genevieve N’don, who would become his wife after—”

Cardenia held up a hand. “Enough.” She reached over on the desk, grabbed a small leather-bound book, pulled it over to her, and set her drink on it. Then she caught Naffa’s expression. “What now?”

“Oh, nothing,” Naffa said. “Just that your ‘coaster’ is a first edition of Chao’s Commentaries on the Racheline Doctrines, which means it’s nearly a thousand years old and unspeakably priceless and even thinking of setting a drink can on it is probably blasphemy of the highest order.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Cardenia took another swig of her drink and then set it on the carpet next to the desk. “Happy? I mean, unless the carpet is also unspeakably priceless.”

“Actually—”

“Can we stipulate that everything in this room except the two of us is probably hundreds of years old, originally gifted to one of my ancestors by another immensely famous historical personage, and that it is priceless or at least worth more than most humans will make in their lifetimes? Is there anything in this room that does not fit that description?”

Naffa pointed to the refrigerator. “I think that’s just a refrigerator.”

Cardenia finally found a coaster on the desk, picked her drink up off the carpet, and set it on it. “This coaster is probably four hundred years old and the gift of the Duke of End,” she said, then looked at her assistant. “Don’t tell me if it is.”

“I won’t.” Naffa pulled out her tablet.

“But you know, don’t you.”

“You have requests from the executive committee,” Naffa said, ignoring her boss’s last comment.

Cardenia threw up her hands. “Of course I do.” The executive committee consisted of three guild representatives, three ministers of parliament, and three archbishops of the church. In other times, the committee was the emperox’s direct link to the three centers of power in the Interdependency. At the moment they were charged with maintaining the continuity of government during these final days of the emperox’s reign. They were driving Cardenia a little batty.

“First, they want you to make an appearance on the networks to, as they put it, ‘calm the fears of the empire’ regarding your father’s situation.”

“He’s dying, and quickly,” Cardenia said. “I’m not sure that’s calming.”

“I think they’d prefer something a little more inspiring. They sent over a speech.”

“There’s no point reassuring the empire. By the time my speech reaches End he’ll have been dead for nine standard months. Even Bremen is two weeks away.”

“There’s still Hub and Xi’an and associated nations in-system. The furthest of those is only five light-hours out.”

“They already know he’s dying.”