Chapter 3

"And what do we have here?" Ashdod asked with theatrical flair, hungrily eying the menu's exquisite selection of entrées as he did so.

"That's the 'Sylsalto Special'," the waitress sighed as she became increasingly impatient with Ashdod's reluctance to pick something to eat. "It's basically just a light pasta dish with some meat sauce and garlic. Would you like that, sir?" she demanded, making sound as if it was more of a threat than an inquiry.

"Why yes," Ashdod concluded, whipping his menu decisively closed for added effect. "Yes I think I would-"

"Fantastic!" the waitress blurted in a frantic attempt to stop the councilor from continuing. She lashed out and snatched the menus from their hands with heroic agility. "I'll be right back as soon as everything is ready."

Tadosh sighed and slouched down into his booth, reclining himself outward like one of the delinquent kids he always saw loitering around in the under-city cafes; of course, high-class, expensive restaurants like this one didn't typically attract the kind of clientele associated with trouble-making and delinquency, and being that they were on the Presidium Ring there wasn't really anything to see but a couple high-class restaurants and the occasional gentleman's bar. On a typical day, spending lunchtime in such luxurious establishments with his friend would be a pleasant diversion; they might have talked about politics, philosophy, or art. Today, however, it just seemed to leave him feeling trapped, and he very much doubted that they would get a chance to talk about anything but the Emperor.

"The Imperial groundskeepers really do a fantastic job with the Presidium," Ashdod mused, casting a respectful glance at the scenery through their tiny porthole of a window. On the surface he appeared to be simply enjoying the sight, but a perceptive person would have noticed a hint of expectant searching behind those clouded eyes.

Tadosh had known his friend long enough to be able to tell when he was starting to drift into one of his typical interminable tangents. That Ashdod had something he wanted to say was perfectly obvious – getting him to say it without stopping and trailing off a million times along the way was something of a challenge. Inwardly Tadosh resolved to take as direct a route to the subject matter as possible. "That meeting of Council was unlike any other I can remember," he grumbled darkly. "You were onto something when you said that he was different; if I spent more time around the Citadel I might have noticed it earlier but…"

"You did notice it, though," Ashdod observed with a satisfied smile. "I was right, then, wasn't I? He wears a convincing mask, but whoever this foul tyrant is, he is not the Emperor Hadrius that we all know." The councilor returned his focus to the window again, his eyes subtly scanning back and forth. "I really love that new tree they put in – such fine coloring."

Tadosh sighed and smacked his palms against the table in exasperation. "Look Ashdod, before we went into Council you wouldn't shut up about the Emperor being a traitor and all the different ways he was different now; but here you just keep talking about the stupid Presidium gardens which, by the way, look no different now than they ever-"

Ashdod's eyes suddenly locked onto something outside the restaurant; he waved his hand impatiently for silence. "Ah good, they're right on time! Capital!" He turned to his friend and beamed. "I've invited some friends of mine to join us here. Given your newfound interest in the Emperor and his affairs I suspect you will be very pleased to make their acquaintance."

Tadosh felt a momentary surge of panic at the thought of events moving beyond his control, compelling him to make a rather pointless scan of the restaurant. "'Some friends' of yours? What the hell are you talking about?" he hissed angrily, leaning sharply forward across the table. Impatience and frustration practically radiated out from him as he locked eyes with his friend. "Look Ashdod, I thought you just wanted to grab a lunch or something," he growled. "And now for the second time today it turns you're really just trying to get me in on some sort of insane plot against the Emperor – which, I hasten to point out – is a capital offense."

The pleasant, airy tinkling of the doorbell announced the arrival of a new group, and before they had even made their way to the table Tadosh could peg the three men as the trouble-making sort. Their dress and mannerisms would have drawn attention to them anywhere, especially in the high-class neighborhoods of the Presidium. They conspicuously lacked the distinctive robes that denoted an Imperial councilor, donning instead in a shady-looking assortment of dark and loose-fitting clothing. The caps placed on their heads were spitting images of the kind used by district thieves to keep their hair out of their eyes while they worked; but most importantly of all were their eyes, which darted nimbly back and forth at a dizzying pace, as if they expected a confrontation at any moment.

If Ashdod was aware of the eccentricity of this trio, he certainly did a fantastic job of hiding it. He sprung to his feet and grinned, warmly embracing each man in turn. "Welcome, my dear friends, welcome! I apologize for this impromptu gathering, but I assure you your time will not be wasted." He swept a hand towards the booth. "Please, won't you sit down?"

The three men filed obediently into the booth and made a good show of making themselves comfortable, with all the stretching and yawning that accompanies an over-acted performance. Their eyes still betrayed to Tadosh the truth; they were alert and on-edge here, and didn't seem prepared to drop their guard. He glanced back at his friend, who stared excitedly at him as if to say "well, what do you think?"

Ashdod smiled and banged his hands on the table as if some sort of decision had been reached. "Well then, I suppose we should get introductions out of the way. Tadosh, this is Nydomo, Calpurnius, and Zilitar," he explained, pointing to each new arrival in turn. "And this, friends," he said with thespian flourish, "is my dear friend, Councilor Tadosh V'tun, the Governor of Fhaldric."

"So, uh…no last names, then?" Tadosh wondered as he drew a suspicious glance across members of the table. "Where are you all from? Are you Citadel-born?"

"Tadosh, my good man," Ashdod intervened before his friend could further pursue that line of questioning. "This is not the appropriate time to be treating our friends and allies with suspicion. If we are to achieve our goals we will need all the help we can possibly get. I've known these three men for a long time now. If I cannot trust them, then I cannot trust anybody."

The councilor threw up his hands, clearly nearing the end of his proverbial rope. "Okay look, cut the shit," he snapped with unusual tactlessness. "You keep moving ahead with this plan or whatever, and I still don't know the first thing about what's going on!" He shot acidic looks to each person in turn, demanding an answer. "Well! What the hell are we trying to do here?"

"Our goal," Ashdod said, his voice suddenly taking on heavy inflections of gravity, "is nothing less than the removal of the false Emperor Hadrius; through whatever means necessary."

Tadosh had expected something along those lines, but to hear it was still a complete shock to him. He practically vaulted himself out of his seat, utterly disgusted and terrified by what he had allowed himself to be dragged into. "You are mad, all of you," he avowed coldly. "This Emperor may be ignorant, incompetent, or even insane, but that does not mean that he deserves to die!" He swung around on his heels and began to stride away, his whole body trembling with indignation.

"What if we told you he was a traitor?"

Tadosh stopped dead in his tracks, as the very idea seemed to slither irresistibly into his brain and seize it, rooting him to the floor where he stood. The Emperor, a traitor to his nation? No, surely it could not be! The Emperor Hadrius was no traitor; indeed, he was the bane of traitors, having met with and defeated more than his fair share of them over the course of his long reign. Even at his worst he had never been known as anything less than a devoted patriot, always well intentioned in word and deed. How could it be possible that he would war against his own people? What could he possibly stand to gain by that?

Tadosh slowly pivoted back around to face the conspirators, his face as solemn and ashen as a funerary mask. "What do you mean?" he seethed, wishing all the while that he had the will to make himself keep moving again. This is crazy – turn around and leave! Don't get caught up in all this! "What do you mean!" he demanded again, the silence of his fellows only driving him to question them further.

Ashdod sighed, the last traces of warmth and geniality disappearing from his face in a flash. All of his years suddenly seemed to bear upon him like a garment of lead. His gnarled, bony finger beckoned for his friend to return. "Please, Tadosh, sit. We shall explain all, as you have requested."

The councilor stormed warily back to the booth, his posture still looking as if he were prepared to bolt up at any moment. He gave each of the men a look as if to warn them that he was giving them one last chance. As he was accustomed to doing during the duller moments of Council, he folded his hands underneath his chin and waited restlessly. Seconds passed in aggravating silence. "So start talking," he growled.

Ashdod leaned forward, carrying his intensity and passion like a tangible force across the table with him. "My friend, you must believe me when I say that this is a point that I reach only in desperation. I have sought – desperately – every other possible explanation for the terrible tragedies and disasters which plague our Empire daily. But despite all my wishes to the contrary, I have finally accepted my conclusion as undeniable. The Emperor is a traitor to the Empire, and has brought arms against his countrymen – against us. We will not be safe until he has been toppled from his throne."

Tadosh leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a low whisper as if their treasonous plotting might be discovered at any moment. "You keep saying this, my friend, and yet you have failed to show me a single point of evidence!"

"All that is required is for us to connect the dots," Ashdod insisted, lowering his voice to match his friend's. "The first insurgent attacks were recorded just under a standard year ago, manifesting as occasional raids on passenger shuttles. Literally the day before the first wave of attacks, the Emperor cut funding for the Imperial Navy by a staggering twenty percent. Two hours before the attacks, the Emperor himself issued an order requisitioning the two cruisers that had been assigned to guard the shuttles – he intentionally diverted those ships so that the insurgents could strike."

Tadosh rolled his eyes. "It was probably just an accident or a misunder-"

"Once or twice, I would maybe be willing to believe that," Ashdod relented. "But this type of accident did not happen 'once or twice'. It happened over one-thousand times between the very first attacks and the present day. Just a few hours ago, the Emperor redirected an Imperial Guard fleet from planet Paeon back to the Citadel. Just an hour after they had re-based, the insurgents on the planet surface were reported as being on the move."

Tadosh seemed to physically start at the mention of the jungle planet; he only just avoided tipping over his drink. "Did you say 'Paeon'? I think my nephew was just transferred there today for a new commission."

Ashdod seemed genuinely concerned by this revelation. "Maybe you should give him a call? He might appreciate your interest."

Tadosh barked out a bitter noise which barely qualified as a laugh. "I very much doubt that. Dertek and I…do not get along."

"Even so," the other continued, wisely deciding to drop the matter, "His case perfectly represents what I am talking about. The Emperor constantly goes out of his way to leave openings for the insurgents to strike. The blood of millions is on his hands by this point. This insurgency has clearly been engineered as a means of weakening the authority of the provinces."

Tadosh bobbled his head uncertainly. "This is a well-argued supposition," he acknowledged. "But you have not proved anything, my friend."

Ashdod sighed as if he had been driven to a level that he had wished to avoid. He signaled with a subtle nod towards Calpurnius, who quickly began to fire up his omni-tool. "Over the past few months, I've been working very hard to pry some hard information out His Majesty's private computer network, "Calpurnius explained with a roguish grin. "It was proven resistant to my meddling, but it has on occasion been so kind as to yield me a few files here and there. This one, I think, is the most pertinent." He danced his fingers briefly on the screen and waited as the audio began to play.

"You are advancing your plans then, yes? It is imperative that there be no further delays in our actions from here on out. I am facing mounting pressure from my supporters who expect me to deal with the 'insurgent problem'. I do not know for how much longer my position will be maintainable."

"That's the Emperor, as you can probably tell," Calpurnius pointed out. "In just a minute we're going to hear from a member of the insurgency – maybe their leader, I don't know."

"We are ready indeed, my lord. Our last round of bombings was an overall success, although some of your fleets proved to be a little too nosy for their own good. We won't be able to make much progress if you can't keep your forces sufficiently tied up; you know full well we don't have the staying power to do this for real."

"I am doing my best. I cannot drag my ships back and forth without at least providing some semblance of an excuse. I would argue that I am playing a much more difficult game than you are – trapped, as I am, in two diametrically opposed roles."

"Listen carefully to this next one," Ashdod cut in. "The next voice, I mean. This one is a real mystery to us."

"Your continued infighting is counter-intuitive to our shared goals. If this keeps up, then neither of you shall receive the result you are seeking after, and all will be for neight. Either your forces must act in unison, or we are doomed to fail before we have even begun."

Tadosh had heard many different voices as a politician, ranging from the wheezy whisperings of half-dead statesmen to the sonorous, warbling bass tones of military strongmen; but never in all his years as a public servant had he ever heard a voice like that last one. It defied all attempts to categorize gender, age, or size. It did not even sound like a voice at all, more like the sound of clanging and echoing metal which happened to somehow come together and make words.

Ashdod grimaced and signaled for his colleague to close down the omni-tool. "You asked me to prove, beyond all doubt, the Emperor's treachery to you. Does this satisfy your request?"

Tadosh shook his head slowly back and forth, his mind still totally paralyzed by what he hard heard. "What was the last voice that played? It sounded like a machine, but it was different…sinister."

"Whatever it was, it is only further proof that the Emperor is trying to destroy his Empire. And all that once seemed natural and intrinsic has been shattered by his base villainy."

At that moment Tadosh felt that truer words had never been spoken. For as long as he had served the Empire he had never questioned his belief that the Empire would last for all of eternity, an unstoppable force which could know neither defeat nor stagnation. This new world which had been revealed to him – one in which all men bore daggers behind their backs and venom in their words – shook him more completely than anything else before. For the first time he truly felt as if the fate of the Empire was in doubt, and it rested upon him to help make the effort required to save it.

"Yes," Tadosh exhaled at last, his entire body sagging with exhaustion. "You have satisfied my doubts, friends." He locked eyes with each one of them in turn, trying to commit their faces to memory. "I admit I am terrified to see the face of reality, but I would mark it preferable to sleepwalking onward to an ignorant death."

"Well and truly spoken, my friend," Ashdod said kindly. "It is heartening to have someone of your wisdom and experience on-board with our cause."

The other men at the table smiled and nodded their agreement, sizing up their new comrade with steely gazes. Tadosh shook each of their hands one at a time; a needless gesture, all things considered, but it put his inherent need love for professionalism at ease to do things as formally as possible.

"Well, now that the honorable councilor has pledged himself to our cause, perhaps we ought to approach him with our request?" the one known as Zilitar said pointedly.

Tadosh rolled his eyes, although by this point any true reluctance on his part had been more or less quelled. "I should have known that you lot needed me for something."

"To tell the truth, we do not need you, per se. You are, however, the best possible candidate I can think of."

Tadosh clicked his tongue a little restlessly. It seemed that Ashdod could never stop himself from beating around the bush. "Okay. And what is it that you need, exactly?"

"It's very simply – really. Essentially, we need you to stall the Emperor."

Tadosh shrugged helplessly and sat silent for a moment. "So…you mean you want to be filibuster him or something?"

Ashdod laughed and shook his head patronizingly. "You need to get your mind out of the debate hall, my friend – the time for debating and passing resolutions is over. I mean in a much more literal sense." He began to move his fingers erratically across the table as if he were drawing. "In just under an hour, the Emperor will depart from the Petitioner's Hall and begin making his way to his shuttle. At some point during his travel between those two points, you need to stop him and keep him talking for a while."

Tadosh appeared no less confused than he had a minute ago. "Wait, why? What's the purpose?"

"It's about that voice you heard, the one that you say sounded like a machine," Calpurnius explained. "As strange as it sounds, whoever 'owns' that voice appears to be controlling both the Empire and the insurgents. If we find them, we can eliminate their influence over the galaxy and set the Empire right with a single swoop," at this he crashed his fist emphatically into his palm."

"You need to fill in a few more blanks for me here," Tadosh pointed out. "How does me stalling the Emperor fit into this."

"The Emperor stays connected to his private extranet network at all times through an uplink module plugged into his brain," Nydomo began in what appeared to be his natural monotone of a voice. "Fortunately for us, Calpurnius has a hacking runtime in his omin-tool which lets us break into his network through his uplink module."

"For a while it used to only take a few seconds to override his firewalls," Calpurnius recounted. "I could just get in, grab some data, and get out no problem. He recently got some sort of new module though – it must be some sort of new government prototype. Anyway, its miles ahead of what he used to be using, whatever it is. Now I typically need around five minutes of load time to get inside his network, and I can't stay in for very long either."

The conversation was briefly interrupted by the return of the waitress. With little in the way of ceremony she put the bill on the table and crossed her arms impatiently. Ashdod quickly took out his pen.

"In this case that won't be too much of a problem since we're only looking to get a very specific set of files; that is to say, anything relating to the unknown voice from the recording." He finished scribbling on the tab and handed it back to the waitress. "The only problem really is getting into the system. If you can keep the Emperor in one place for just five minutes – maybe a little more – we can get the data that we need."

"Why does it have to be me who stalls him – not that I don't want to help," he added quickly, keenly aware that his devotion to the cause was probably suspect to begin with.

"I am afraid my associates are not the type of people whom the Emperor would be willing to hold a conversation with," Ashdod grinned. "And His Majesty and I have not exactly been on the best of terms lately."

Part of Tadosh was still desperately trying to tell him to go home and forget that any of this ever happened, but he knew that there was no turning back by this point. He had sworn to give them his help, and he did not go back on his promises. Besides, how dangerous could it be to just try and talk to somebody?

Not just 'somebody', his intuition seemed to say, gnawing at the back of his mind, the Emperor! You've already gotten on his bad side today…

Tadosh literally shook the thoughts from his head. His nerves were beginning to twist at his stomach, and he was anxious to do his job and be done with it. "What of it then, brothers? Shall we get to work?"

Ashdod, in typical fashion, acted as if he were shocked to discover that they had something they were supposed to do. "Yes, we shouldn't waste any more time." He stood and beckoned for the others to follow behind him. "We'll take Citadel Transit down to the Spire. You should be able to catch the Emperor before he departs for his palace."

"Where will you be in all of this?" Tadosh asked of Calpurnius, realizing to his consternation that he still didn't have a very thorough grasp of the plan.

"I'll just park myself on a bench near where you stop him," Calpurnius dismissed casually. "He shouldn't think to stop and accost me, and if he does then its just further proof that he has something to hide."

"And what if he does stop you? What will you do?"

"I believe my years spent running with the under-city crowd have more than prepared me for such situations," Calpurnius laughed. "We'll just have to run."

Tadosh checked and rechecked the corridor, the anxiety in his stomach now having mutated into full-on terror. On a nearby bench lay Calpurnius, sprawled out across the length of the seat like one of the countless beggars who plied the halls of the Presidium seeking the generosity of the nobility; it was a clever and well-done disguise. Tadosh was too nervous to dare acknowledge him in any way, but inwardly he gave the man an impressed nod of the head.

The Emperor was getting closer now, his entourage apparently having been dismissed. As ever the aging sovereign looked confident and in-control, his every moment exuding imperial authority and poise. In the past Tadosh would have been thrilled at the chance to have a conversation with the man, but given all that had happened it took Tadosh every fiber of his self-control not to turn and run.

The Emperor was getting closer now, the intricate patterns of his imperial garment becoming visible on his person. He looked exceedingly regal, decked out in all the trappings of royalty: fine clothes, sacred relics, priceless gems. This was, Tadosh realized, the closest he had ever been to the man who trillions of people knew as the Emperor. He wondered, too, if he would ever be able to get this close again.

There was no time left to stall – it was now or never. Tadosh quickly stepped forward from his spot in the corner, suddenly feeling as if the entire Citadel was watching him. "Good tidings, Your Majesty! Your imperial grace seems to work wonders on the weather; the sunlight today is gorgeous!"

"It' always sunny on the Citadel, it's a space station," the Emperor retorted, his lips pursed tightly into a thin line. His face was completely unreadable. "What can I do for you, Councilor V'tun?"

Tadosh peered anxiously over Hadrius' shoulder, trying to see what Calpurnius was doing. The conspirator gently nodded his head and held up five outstretched fingers. "Keep going," he mouthed.

Terror and adrenaline surged through Tadosh's veins; he could feel beads of sweat beginning to run down the back of his neck. He couldn't believe that now, when it was most needed, he couldn't think of anything to say to his Emperor. "Err," he began weakly. "Have you ever tried counting the Keepers?"

Hadrius rolled his eyes angrily and began walking again. "I don't have time for this nonsense councilor. My shuttle awaits me."

"Stop!" Tadosh cried, his mind shifting into overdrive and he wracked its every last nook and cranny. He struggled for words as the Emperor slowly turned back around. "I uh…I wanted to ask your opinion on a new edict I've been thinking of."

"Ask."

"I had this thought," Tadosh began, although in truth 'thoughts' were something he sorely lacked at the moment. "A lot of insurgent attacks seem to occur because the provinces don't communicate efficiently with the Naval Chancellery. If we gave the provinces the authority to command their own fleets, we could give them more flexibility to react to raids," Tadosh finished, feeling reasonably confident that his idea was genuine enough.

'Slits' did not adequately describe just how narrow the Emperor's eyes became. "That idea sounds quite familiar, Councilor. Probably because I spent seven years of my reign fighting the heretical forces of Governor Berendil in order to remove that very same right from the provinces in the first place."

The councilor's whole body seized up, his mind became numb and unresponsive; first daydreaming in the middle of Council and now this. In his mind Tadosh envisioned a tally mark being slowly added to his total. Strike two, he thought grimly.

"Look Your Majesty," he tried again, redoubling his efforts. "I understand that you are very adamant in your stance on provincial rights. But the system that we have now clearly doesn't work! These insurgents attacks continue unabated and our traditional responses deliver no respite. The Empire faces annihilation if we do not change our tactics!"

The Emperor snorted and looked upon Tadosh as if he were little better then an insurgent himself. "Your words are as foolish as your ideas – both have amply confirmed my suspicions about you. This conversation is at an end." The Emperor swung around and began to storm away again.

"You used to be different!" Tadosh cried, his voice laden with sorrow and accusation. He no longer remembered his instructions to stall the Emperor, or the colleague who sat inert behind him. He knew only that the man that he idolized and admired was perishing before his eyes. "You used to actually care about the Empire – you took pleasure in running it! Now you are nothing but a madman and a liar!"

It took Hadrius painful seconds to turn and face his accuser, but Tadosh still couldn't have braced himself for the malice and contempt that radiated from the Emperor's stare. "Get you home, Governor. Your sickness of the mind reflects poorly on you."

Tadosh didn't bother waiting for him to leave; he didn't bother waiting to see if they had gotten the data either. He instead tore away at near-run, not daring to stop until he had put as much distance as possible between himself and the traitor who called himself an Emperor.