Sessine,’ he said. ‘The King has already asked me to inform you of the profound shock he experienced at hearing of your murder, and to convey his deepest sympathy to you as well as to those you leave behind. He has also asked me to assure you that everything possible will be done to root out those responsible for this foul crime.’
‘Thank you. I would like to request an audience with His Majesty, as soon as possible.’
‘His Majesty can spare a short while between other appointments in twenty minutes real - approximately four months subjective - time.’
‘I must ask for an emergency meeting before then.’
‘I understand your distress and shock, Count Sessine. However, His Majesty is in an important meeting with representatives of the Chapel usurper forces, discussing peace; informing him of your death and giving him time to express the above-mentioned shock and sympathy has already, perhaps, used up whatever diplomatic slack we have with the Engineer delegation; we cannot possibly incur any further interruption without risking an apparent sleight and the breakdown of negotiations.’
Sessine thought about this. The secretary sat smiling patiently at him. Measuring his words, Sessine spoke again: ‘My concern is that the message which appeared to instigate my murder was embedded within a military signal sent from Army HQ, and that this therefore implies either a serious signal-security breach or a traitor in at least the middle-level military.’ He paused to let the secretary speak, then went on. ‘Has the King authorised a full military investigation?’
‘An investigation has been authorised.’
‘At what level?’
‘A level commensurate with your standing, Count; the highest level.’
‘With full military access immediately?’
‘That is not possible; the Army has operational reasons for not being able to reveal such matters precipitously; there are controls, checks and balances which must be negotiated over a minimum real-time scale if one is not to trip a series of automatic security-violation safeguards. The relevant authorisations are of course being sought, but—’
‘Thank you, private secretary. Would you put me on to military High Command, level five, and replace?’
The construct had time to look distinctly annoyed before it was replaced with a young soldier in full dress uniform.
‘Count Sessine.’
‘Is this level five?’ Sessine frowned. ‘I thought—’
The young soldier stood, quickly drew his ceremonial sword and in the same movement brought it scything above the trolley-table and through Sessine’s neck, parting his head from his shoulders.
What ? he thought, then everything faded.
He awoke in the tower-bedroom of the ambiently scaled version of Serehfa, alone, on what gave every appearance of being a fine spring morning.
He lay in the bed and looked around. Silk sheets, brocade canopy, oil paintings on the wall, rugs on the floor, wooden panelling, tall windows. He felt washed clean, and distinctly unsettled.
He closed his eyes, said, ‘Speremus igitur,’ and opened his eyes again.
His smile was troubled. ‘Hmm,’ he said quietly.
He got out of bed, dressed in the clothes he had been wearing earlier, and went out onto the balcony.
A dot in the distance, somewhere over the curtain-wall to the west, attracted his attention. A hint of light around it, a thin, hazy trail in the sky behind . . .
He watched the dot expand, then imagined himself on the fast-tower.
/He stood on the gaily painted wooden platform again; the flag snapped in the air above him. He watched the missile tear across the roof-tops below and disappear into the tower where he had been standing a few seconds earlier. The tower erupted; yellow-white flame burst outwards across the balcony, sundering the stones all around that floor and throwing back the tower’s roof, releasing a cloud of slates like some flock of disturbed birds.
Straight through the balcony
‘Thank you. I would like to request an audience with His Majesty, as soon as possible.’
‘His Majesty can spare a short while between other appointments in twenty minutes real - approximately four months subjective - time.’
‘I must ask for an emergency meeting before then.’
‘I understand your distress and shock, Count Sessine. However, His Majesty is in an important meeting with representatives of the Chapel usurper forces, discussing peace; informing him of your death and giving him time to express the above-mentioned shock and sympathy has already, perhaps, used up whatever diplomatic slack we have with the Engineer delegation; we cannot possibly incur any further interruption without risking an apparent sleight and the breakdown of negotiations.’
Sessine thought about this. The secretary sat smiling patiently at him. Measuring his words, Sessine spoke again: ‘My concern is that the message which appeared to instigate my murder was embedded within a military signal sent from Army HQ, and that this therefore implies either a serious signal-security breach or a traitor in at least the middle-level military.’ He paused to let the secretary speak, then went on. ‘Has the King authorised a full military investigation?’
‘An investigation has been authorised.’
‘At what level?’
‘A level commensurate with your standing, Count; the highest level.’
‘With full military access immediately?’
‘That is not possible; the Army has operational reasons for not being able to reveal such matters precipitously; there are controls, checks and balances which must be negotiated over a minimum real-time scale if one is not to trip a series of automatic security-violation safeguards. The relevant authorisations are of course being sought, but—’
‘Thank you, private secretary. Would you put me on to military High Command, level five, and replace?’
The construct had time to look distinctly annoyed before it was replaced with a young soldier in full dress uniform.
‘Count Sessine.’
‘Is this level five?’ Sessine frowned. ‘I thought—’
The young soldier stood, quickly drew his ceremonial sword and in the same movement brought it scything above the trolley-table and through Sessine’s neck, parting his head from his shoulders.
What ? he thought, then everything faded.
He awoke in the tower-bedroom of the ambiently scaled version of Serehfa, alone, on what gave every appearance of being a fine spring morning.
He lay in the bed and looked around. Silk sheets, brocade canopy, oil paintings on the wall, rugs on the floor, wooden panelling, tall windows. He felt washed clean, and distinctly unsettled.
He closed his eyes, said, ‘Speremus igitur,’ and opened his eyes again.
His smile was troubled. ‘Hmm,’ he said quietly.
He got out of bed, dressed in the clothes he had been wearing earlier, and went out onto the balcony.
A dot in the distance, somewhere over the curtain-wall to the west, attracted his attention. A hint of light around it, a thin, hazy trail in the sky behind . . .
He watched the dot expand, then imagined himself on the fast-tower.
/He stood on the gaily painted wooden platform again; the flag snapped in the air above him. He watched the missile tear across the roof-tops below and disappear into the tower where he had been standing a few seconds earlier. The tower erupted; yellow-white flame burst outwards across the balcony, sundering the stones all around that floor and throwing back the tower’s roof, releasing a cloud of slates like some flock of disturbed birds.
Straight through the balcony
Similar Books
