The Collapsing Empire (The Interdependency #1)(84)

Because she was curious, Cardenia had Jiyi call up emperoxs at random to learn what they thought when they discovered—or had confirmed for them—that the Interdependency was founded primarily to benefit the Wu family and their allies. She had wanted to know how it affected their own reigns. Some had been surprised by their ancestors’ duplicity and used it as a spur to make the lives of the average Interdependent citizen better. Some had been delighted by their ancestors’ naked power grab and had gone about making sure that it stayed secured for further generations of the Wu family. Two were so appalled that they resigned, one self-exiling to End to become a farmer, and the other collapsing into nihilism, devoting himself to a life of “drinking and fucking,” as his simulation put it.

But most emperoxs essentially shrugged and got on with the business of running the Interdependency. How it was created and who benefited from it was academic to the fact that it did exist and needed running, and that there was nothing anyone could do that would change that, not even an emperox. Emperoxs of the Interdependency were not meant to be radicals, in any political direction; ones that were found themselves discreetly removed and replaced by more tractable children or (if necessary) cousins.

Certainly Cardenia had spent the first nine months of her reign being confronted with the immense inertia of the office of the emperox, and how tradition and obligation had hemmed her in. Was she not, right now, traveling by shuttle to tour a spaceship she didn’t care about, at the request of a politically connected family she disliked, with a man everyone but her wanted her to marry? Was this not, in itself, a metaphor of her entire life at the moment?

Now, however. The end of the Interdependency was not only inevitable as a matter of physics, but desirable as a matter of species survival. The monopolies would have to go as each system gathered resources and prepared for their isolation. The guild and nobility structures would have to fall, as impediments to the continuation of humanity. The lie of the Interdependency—that it was necessary and desirable—was coming to an end, and Cardenia, who had never wanted to be emperox at all, would be the one to end it. Would have to be the one to end it.

She was almost giddy about that fact.

“We’re about to dock with the Sing Out,” the pilot of the imperial shuttle said over the speakers, and Cardenia nodded. She was traveling with a full complement of assistants and guards but at least some portion of the tour would be Amit and her alone, allowing the two of them moments of agreed-upon privacy to discuss whatever they felt like discussing. Cardenia assumed, on Amit’s part, that would constitute some fumbling overtures of affection.

You don’t have to pretend you might marry him now, a part of Cardenia’s brain said, and that thought sent a pleasant shock through her system. It was true enough! The whole point of marrying Amit, or any Nohamapetan, would be to solidify the imperial house’s position with regard to the guilds and parliament, and to keep that wildly ambitious house in line, at least theoretically.

But now there was no future to consider, at least as far as the Interdependency was concerned. Cardenia didn’t need to worry about establishing imperial dominance for another generation, or currying favor with the guilds and the parliament. All that was going away. All that was left was striving to keep humanity alive after the fall. Cardenia was pretty sure she didn’t need Amit, or any Nohamapetan, for that. If Marce Claremont was correct, and she strongly believed that he was, then within a few weeks everyone would have all the proof they needed that the universe was changing.

Cardenia thought briefly on Marce Claremont, with whom she had felt comfortable from the moment he entered her office and laughed at it. Cardenia had intended the meeting to be private but formal, but something about Claremont made her change her mind. She’d dropped the formal address and fairly hovered over him while they spoke, and then maneuvered it so they could speak again later, over dinner.

You’re attracted to him, duh, her brain said. Cardenia couldn’t disagree with that. He was smart, well-mannered, and cute enough, and it had been long enough since Cardenia had any sort of relations that that combination in any man within ten years of her age would have pinged her circuits. But it was something other than mere sexual attraction that Cardenia had responded to. As her shuttle docked she realized what it was: Claremont had reminded her, just a little, of Naffa. A little academic, a little sardonic, and someone who might see her as Cardenia, not as Emperox Grayland II. Or, at least, see her as Cardenia, too.

Maybe I just need a friend, she thought. She smiled wistfully at that and then she exited the shuttle, into the bay of the If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out, where Amit Nohamapetan was waiting for her, along with at least two hundred workers who had built the ship.

They all bowed as she descended into the bay. “Your Majesty,” Amit Nohamapetan said, as he drew himself up. “It is delightful to see you again.” It was then that Cardenia caught the look on his face: a strained but pleasant mask. Hiding something that was obviously stressing him. In spite of herself, Cardenia felt a momentary stab of pity for Amit. Whatever was going on with him right now, it wasn’t pleasant.

Cardenia returned the pleasantries and allowed herself to be introduced to the shipbuilders, shaking hands with the supervisors and greeting the rank-and-file workers. Cardenia had gotten used to this aspect of her job; she did a lot of greeting and waving, and would for the rest of her life.

Well, not anymore, her brain said.