“Worldlord. Do you have a moment?”
The male, overseeing the renovation of what used to be his slave quarters, glanced over at him and canted his ax-shaped head. “Deputy-East? You have the look of a male on a mission.”
Despite the resolve that had crystallized on reading the Sword’s message, Deputy-East felt his face stretching into a wintry smile. “You could say. I know you have resources beyond what you casually discuss with huntfriends, Worldlord. I was wondering if I could call on those resources now.”
The Worldlord straightened, wings sagging as he frowned. Then, brusquely, he said, “My study. This is not the place for such a discussion.”
“Of course.”
Outside, Deputy-East launched into the air and rode the Worldlord’s vortices, feeling a strange calm. Something about knowing he would probably die soon, maybe? Surely that should have made him more anxious, not less. But his wings beat steadily and his sight was clear, truly clear for the first time in revolutions. Maybe this was what it was like to have a purpose beyond his own survival.
It felt strange. He was sure he should have hated it, but he didn’t.
The Worldlord’s tower was the highest on the hunting estate and its balcony led into a receiving room. Deputy-East allowed the Worldlord to land first before lighting and padding through the chamber that had once been kept dim for the comfort of a dying alien pet. The windows were now set for maximum light, but the Worldlord had not removed the box-like bed where Gentle had slept. Deputy-East hoped that boded well for his errand and entered the study.
The Worldlord had already taken a seat behind his desk and was bringing up displays.
“Just like that?” Deputy-East asked, confused. “You’re not going to ask me what I’m doing?”
“Oh, I plan to ask you,” the Worldlord said. “But I thought I’d prepare in case you convince me to mobilize my resources on your behalf.” He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Is it on your behalf?”
“No,” Deputy-East said. “I’ve had a message from the Sword. And… Worldlord… huntbrother?” At the male’s twitch of acceptance at the intimacy, he continued, “There are… things… I haven’t told you about the Sword and the situation after I escorted him offworld that you now need to know.”
“’Now,’” the Worldlord said. “So you hid them from me. Until I became useful.”
Denying that seemed craven. “Yes. But only because that knowledge… it’s dangerous, huntbrother. And I suspect it may be painful to you personally.”
“Is that so?” the Worldlord asked, skeptical.
Deputy-East flinched and looked away. “Fine. You have a soft heart, huntbrother, and you did a terrible thing that you don’t know about yet and I didn’t want you to suffer that knowledge unless it became necessary. All right? It was cowardly of me, but there it is.”
In the ensuing silence Deputy-East struggled with his need to fidget. Standing here waiting reminded him of reprimands he’d suffered from his superiors in the past, and it was hard not to feel like a guilty child. Particularly around the Worldlord, who was already not only a male of supreme and quiet assurance, but also a sire several times over, and of offspring he had taken a personal interest in rearing.
“You had better tell me what this terrible thing is,” the Worldlord said at last.
“Well,” Deputy-East said. “Dainty. You remember Dainty.”
“Of course I remember Dainty.”
“And to make you feel better, keep it in mind that I raped Dainty several times!” Deputy-East hastened to say. “And I don’t even remember the first time well, since I was taking a call. But the other times. I did a very bad thing—”
“Deputy-East!” the Worldlord exclaimed, exasperated. “What exactly am I supposed to feel better about having done!”
“Ah, Dainty. Dainty was not actually a human.” Deputy-East inhaled and got it all out in a rush. “Dainty was the Emperor. The deposed one. Who is not as deposed as the Usurper would like.”
The pupils in the Worldlord’s eyes welled so suddenly Deputy-East took an unintentional step toward him. But the other male raised his hand. “How did you learn this? Without being killed for all that you did?”
“When I took them offworld—Manufactory-East had destroyed the Sword’s shuttle, so he needed me to fly him—I brought them to the rendezvous point with the Sword’s vessel. He made contact with them to arrange the transfer, and the comm officer was interrupted by…” Deputy-East, remembering the moment and his sheer incredulity, “…by a male calling himself the Admiral-Offense, asking for the Exalted Emperor. Dainty answered. They talked as huntbrothers would have. And I…” He shuddered, eyes closing. “I fell down and waited to die. But he didn’t kill me, Worldlord. He said that my actions had guaranteed my loyalty to him, and he left me alive.”
The Worldlord’s expression hovered between incredulity and wonder. “And then?”
“And then the Sword told me that the war was here, and it was between the Usurper, who will tear apart the Empire, and the Emperor, who will do his best to keep it together. And that we had to choose sides. And that he would call for me, one day.”
“One day soon, apparently.”
“Sooner than I expected,” Deputy-East agreed.
“And was he right?”
“Huntbrother?”
“The Emperor. When he spoke of your loyalty. Was he right?”
“I… yes. Of course.” Deputy-East folded his nervous wings. “What else?”
“What else?” the Worldlord asked, surprised. “He was so weak he permitted his own abuse at your hands. He cried under you, Deputy-East. He let me decorate him with chains and piercings. He kneeled at our feet. Worse, he kneeled at Manufactory-East’s. You would follow a male who not only failed to prevent his own degradation, but who will not punish us for its perpetration?”
“I… I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Deputy-East admitted.
“How did you think of it, then?”
“I didn’t think at all.” Deputy-East looked away, and the memory of it flooded him. The slim, solemn figure, staring down at him. The utter stillness of that gaze. The Emperor had not seemed strong, because strength was something Deputy-East associated with will. The Emperor had felt… inevitable. Like wind, or the airlessness of space. “I saw him when he was speaking to the Admiral-Offense. I saw him when he looked at me. He was… he was Greatness.”
“Greatness,” the Worldlord murmured, tasting the abstraction.
“Huntbrother, you valued Gentle,” Deputy-East said. “You let your Alliance slaves go. Did they not let you put chains on them? Didn’t they kneel at our feet? If we were wrong about them, are we wrong about him?” He paused, then added, “The Sword says Gentle is in stasis and the Alliance surgeon believes she can be healed.”
The Worldlord’s head jerked up.
“The Emperor—the un-deposed Emperor—he counts those aliens among his allies,” Deputy-East added. “If we side with him, we will have an Empire that has greater congress with them.”
“And you think I want that.”
Deputy-East snorted. “I’m easily agitated, Worldlord, but not stupid.”
The Worldlord laughed, low. “Fine. But do you want it?”
“I… don’t know,” Deputy-East said. “What do I know of aliens? Or even care? But I do care about a male who is intent on tearing the Empire apart. There is no prospering in war unless you’re in the war trade, and even then you have to not die to reap the rewards. I want to grow old and indolent and have three dozen air cars and the leisure to fly them. For that, I need a stable society.”
Now the Worldlord was laughing in earnest. “Only three dozen?”
“I think three dozen would cover all the models I’m interested in,” Deputy-East said modestly.
“And I am betting you checked.”
“It’s no good to buy without doing the research…”
The Worldlord waved a hand, still chuckling. “All right. Tell me about this request of the Sword’s, then.”
“He says…” Deputy-East trailed off, less out of uncertainty and more in wonder that he remained so fixed in his purpose. The calm had not abandoned him. “That the Empire’s Second is planning on starting the civil war here, in this system.”
“What?” the Worldlord hissed, straightening.
“By forcing the muster to gather and letting them idle long enough to forget their shared purpose—fighting the war—and remember their old hatreds. And then when they find themselves all together in one place….”
The Worldlord’s nostrils flared. He looked up at Deputy-East and in that expression Deputy-East saw their shared knowledge of the probable survival of anything larger than a meteorite after all the Empire’s system lords and all the Empire’s sector naval fleets started a civil war above their heads.
“He wants us to spy for the Emperor,” Deputy-East finished. “I plan to do so. And if you can help…”
“Not only can I help,” the Worldlord said, “I have a message for you to take back to the Sword and this Greatness.” He smiled thinly. “Go get a tablet, Deputy-East. You will want to take notes.”