Arriving some time after lunch and taken to the basement of Service Command, Matthieu was debriefed by Commander Jeffries for six hours. At one point he suggested, “I don’t know if Captain Salzman collected Lieutenant Beeson’s belongings, or if he simply sealed the cabin, but I would say you should find that book-disk on beekeeping to see if he made any notes in it.” Commander Jeffries immediately left the briefing room; he returned with two privates carrying cafeteria meals and softees for them so they could eat while they spoke.
By the end of the session, Commander Jeffries was leaning back in his chair, softee in hand, looking Matthieu over with intent. “Ensign, shall we speak off the record for a while?”
Matthieu grinned. “Be my guest.”
Commander Jeffries turned off the recording equipment and made a gesture in the air. “Your Highness, I was assigned by Admiral Fowler as your personal Service guidance counselor.
“The Demesne has a unique command system in that majors are usually promoted to colonels, but commanders on other planets either take the place of majors or are the step between majors and colonels. Since its inception, and specifically because we have an integrated Service, commanders have always denoted ‘special assignment’ or specialist positions outside the regular command structure.
“The overwhelming majority of commanders are space-based or serve as adjutants or ADC’s to colonels, which allows other services to assume we have a naval command structure like their own. Admirals rely on and are usually promoted from commodores, the top of our command structure, but the fact is we can pretty much write our own assignments.”
He grinned at Matthieu’s surprise. “From the day you began training, several of us fought to be the commander who would oversee the entirety of your Service career.”
“What was the deciding factor?” Matthieu wondered.
“Three of us were arguing with Admiral Fowler when he finally decided to put us to a test. He handed us each several sheets of paper and said, ‘Write down everything you know about Prince Matthieu.’ Hours later, by the time I had asked for my 40th sheet and the others were still on sheets 20 and 25, Fowler called it off. Which was good, because I had writer’s cramp up to the middle of my back by then,” he jested, sending Matthieu into a bout of laughter.
Jeffries sat forward and put his elbows on the table. “I report to only three people: the Emperor, Admiral Fowler, and your uncle Christian, who will be promoted to colonel soon. I was also brought in on this assignment by the Empress, who gave me a very detailed briefing on the new starship. As a result, I’ll probably never leave the Demesnes again, unless you get mired in a situation off-planet and desperately need me.
“Therefore, if you’re willing, I would have you speak to me about anything whatsoever. Your hopes and dreams for the Service, because I’ll undoubtedly be one of your admirals some day. Your speculations about any Servicemen, whether you have direct evidence upon which to base those speculations or not. Absolutely anything. If I can’t find you the answers or the people who can give you the answers, then the information is probably unable to be found.”
“Was Admiral Fowler the counselor for Uncle Christian?”
“Yes. Your uncle Phillip didn’t have one; he helped institute the policy of assigning counselors to Royal and Imperial scions in the Service when he worked in Officer Assignments before taking up governorship of Rendel.”
“When will we know who Rutherford was spying for?”
“I asked when I left to get our meals. Duke Rutherford, his great-uncle twice removed, at a minimum, but there were suggestions he was using the information on the behalf of others. For example, when I peeked in on the interrogation, Rutherford was describing how he really fucked up, because he absolutely had to land on Corona Segundus, the last stop on your tour.
“I imagine Duke Rutherford has some contact with scientists there. After all, they targeted James, an engineer like Rutherford, and Hoffman, a pilot like yourself, because they couldn’t get to either of you after that disciplinary episode. My gratitude to Beeson knows no bounds, first for having you stay aboard ship, and second for having you make that ridiculous scene such that Rutherford was blacklisted.”
“Will Rutherford be executed?”
“Undoubtedly. Not even a court-martial; he will be ‘disappeared’ and his belongings sent to his family,” Jeffries said blithely. “The probability is high that Duke Rutherford will be executed, too.”
“Then I think Ensign Sims should be disappeared, and I should be given his assignment under my own name,” Matthieu decided. “Rutherfords will be on the lookout for Sims; they won’t think to hassle me. In addition, if you keep the current crew of SDC-19, they should be commanded not to refer to me as Sims, because they will surely recognize my voice.”
“Done. As far as your assignment to SDC-19, how else would you like to see us proceed?”
Matthieu bit his lip. “I really would like to visit other planets, but I don’t see Sentinels covering me. There’s not enough room aboard for more than one Sentinel, unless the courier is also a Sentinel, which I suspect Beeson was.”
“He was.” Jeffries pondered the notion. “Your father said you didn’t want hoopla, but would you consider allowing your assignment to be known in general, and then when you’re about to visit a planet, the embassy can make a show of greeting you at the shuttle port and arranging your security on-planet as a visiting dignitary? After all, you’ll be on leave; you might as well make the most of it.”
Matthieu nodded. “Sounds like a fine plan. I told one of my brothers the purpose of being treated like a commoner was to intimately learn their point-of-view. I wouldn’t mind doing so even more in the future, but for all practical purposes, I think I’ve learned enough for this assignment. Perhaps we can work something else out for future assignments.”
Jeffries grinned outright. “Perhaps we can.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Matthieu was put to work for five days. He technically had three weeks of leave while the stargate scientists went over all the data on SDC-19 and the tech crews finished their maintenance, but Jeffries decided his ‘secret mission’ should not be associated with his recent tour. Matthieu would only officially have two weeks of leave as if that had been his assignment all along.
Work was fun, though. He and Commander Jeffries had a few sessions with other people, but for the most part, Matthieu learned from Jeffries about the entirety of the command structure of the Service. Grandfather even attended one session, speaking about the broad overviews, including such procedures as how to evacuate Galactic Assembly Representatives in case there were ever a need.
By that time, his pigmentation had returned to its former norms, so Matthieu spent two nights at Aunt Elizabeth’s house in the Galactic Assembly Compound, reveling in the peace and quiet, for Kayla and Kyle now lived at the Imperial Palace. He spent both evenings grilling Elizabeth about her Representative duties and Gerard about his duties at the Ministry of Interstellar Trade: Stargate Assignments, while giving himself over to the luxury of roasting in her sauna and boiling himself in her hot tub during the day.
He was getting a back rub from one of her servants late that Wednesday afternoon, wondering if he could get a more intimate massage and deciding he couldn’t risk pissing Elizabeth off, when Theo showed up. “Hah! Living the high life, I see. Some assignment!”
Matthieu dismissed the servant, who left immediately. “Ho, Theo! I was indulging in a well-earned comfort, let me tell you.” He grabbed a towel to cover his erection until it died. “How’s everything going?”
“Mag. We’ve all really missed you, but the Academy is going so well, all the students will be staying a minimum of a year. Ricky just turned 12 and joined us, and everyone’s getting along splendidly.”
Theo filled him in on several more items of interest. “I’m so busy learning so many new things, I’ve decided on my new title.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Prince Theodore Alfonse Sinclair, The Spine of the Empire,” Theo declared dramatically, arms spread wide as Matthieu laughed. “I’ll have my fingers in everybody’s pies, I’ll be able to do anything from arranging seating assignments for your social director to making decisions in your name, and I’ll even be your matchmaker,” he sniggered.
“Yeah? Got any leads?” Matthieu grinned, deliriously happy to see Theo glowing with joy.
“Not only do I have leads, I have arrangements for your next five bedmates.” Theo wiggled his eyebrows.
“You can’t be serious! How did you manage that?”
Theo leaned back in the masseuse’s chair. “Well, that little declaration you made at Midsummer helped a lot. It seems like a lot of young ladies will do anything to get some Imperial ass. Even dating a younger brother,” he said proudly.
“Lady Rosanne Valente, niece of Grandmother’s social director Lady Rosetta Pierson, has about twenty cousins and friends who are not only sexually active but more than eager to be seen with all our friends. We’ve been trying them out for you; Vic’s in seventh heaven, trying to decide if he wants to focus on a few or expand his horizons even more.”
“Arrrgh! And here I’ve been celibate for four months, after giving up a girl for Vic that last night we went to a club. Some friend,” Matthieu groaned.
“Hey, now, don’t blame Vic. After all, it was your speech that started it, not to mention the fact that getting his aunt and uncle the Imperial appointment made all the ladies look upon him with new-found respect. Truly, there was no way he could resist their wiles, so he hasn’t bothered.”
Theo looked around. “Are you done here? The cousins want you to come to dinner, because the rest of us have a party planned at Lauder Manse for you tonight.”
Throwing off his towel, Matthieu reached for his shorts. “Man, am I ready for that!”
Theo looked him over with another snigger. “You certainly are.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Homecomings were spectacular, Matthieu decided. He and Theo flew to the bat cave, where he had to get used to Sentinels surrounding him again. Their entrance to the Academy Parlor saw everyone plastered around him in a huge group hug as the Bradleys stood back to wait for their own. Matthieu hugged and praised each sib and cousin individually; he had secretly messaged the Bradleys when he got to Elizabeth’s house for a run-down of the achievements of each student.
He told Grace, “That carry-case you lent me really came in handy. I did get teased about it, which wasn’t very secret for my secret mission, so I’ll give it back to you, but I wanted you to know it was very important to me.” Grace beamed at him, lighting up even further when he praised her for getting the top score on her recent science project at Northbridge.
He made sure to ask Grace’s brother Enrique, whom everyone called Ricky, “Are you getting along okay? Has everyone made you feel at home?”
“Yeah, Teresita’s awfully lonely, but she helps with all the littler ones at the Compound.”
“Bless her heart. Maybe you can all think of something nice to do for the younger cousins, then,” Matthieu suggested. “Maybe something for the Lesser Fêtes, to show them you’ve been thinking of them?” Ricky said he would try to come up with ideas.
At dinner, Father and Renee sat at each end of the table, supervising dinner much as Grandfather and Grandmother would. Phillip and Annette weren’t there, Matthieu noted. “So what’s going on in the State Dining Hall tonight?” Everyone hushed quickly.
“Nothing, son. Mother and Father have been retiring early whenever possible. They haven’t been in the best of health.” Father looked over the throng. “Everyone’s been very good about not making too many demands on their time.”
“We’ve all been too busy. I’m set to graduate from Northbridge at the end of this semester, actually.” Theo grinned with pride. Matthieu congratulated him, for Theo wouldn’t turn eighteen for another four months.
“Yes, I have the credits, and although I love Northbridge, there are so many other ways to get an education that I decided to take a couple of University courses for spring semester.” He beamed at Bernard Bradley.
“That sounds terrific. I’m so proud of everyone.” Matthieu gave them a grand smile. “I’m so happy. I wonder if we can all figure out ways to help Grandmother and Grandfather.”
With that, they were off. Matthieu had always loved the way the old Family Nights were run; it seemed the Bradleys had heard enough about them they had inculcated those forward-thinking, helpful motivations into all their students.
Matthieu grinned when Kayla herself said, “You know, Grandmother had a lady-in-waiting for many years. Renee’s been acting in that capacity for so long, but she’s taking on most of Grandmother’s duties. Perhaps we could look to help Grandmother out more.” Aimee and Grace nodded. “What do ladies-in-waiting actually do, Rowena?”
After that discussion, Richard wondered, “The watchmen do so much, but how much of what they do is really their responsibility in the first place? What would one call a young man who would help Grandfather in his duties?”
“I believe one would call him a grandson,” Matthieu said with his most dashing grin, garnering laughs from everyone.
“There are lots of names for them in history and on other planets. Pages, squires, it all depended on the ranks of the people involved and on how young the fellows were. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter whether you take a title or not, just as long as you help him. Surely ‘Prince’ is title enough?”
“Surely,” Bernard agreed fondly, looking over his pupils.
◊ ◊ ◊
The party at the Lauders ran halfway to dawn, despite being a weeknight. Matthieu didn’t bed anyone, but he did get a number of propositions.
“Let’s think about it, shall we?” he would say, evaluating their responses and cheering them up with, “I’m having fun right now; aren’t you?” Once they realized he was actually interested in them as human beings, too, their hearts seemed to swell out of their chests, which did incredible things to a lady’s cleavage, he decided.
He asked Theo if there were any balls these next two weeks. “Sorry, no. Renee has been looking to combine some of the lesser balls so there isn’t as much strain on the Compound Staff. The stargate scientists have really appreciated having fewer demands on their time, with their eldest children gone. I think they’re ramping up for something, but of course no one knows what.”
So Matthieu picked out two ladies to date that weekend, while Theo managed to spend the majority of his time with the lovely Lady Rosanne. Eric and Catherine were making moon-eyes over each other; Matthieu presumed they had recently become sexually attached. Vic was doing the humble man-behind-the-man routine with him, so the ladies surrounded him all night long, too.
Everyone danced, drank, and flirted lavishly with each other. When Theo said, “You know, this has been a great deal of fun, but I don’t think I should show up drunk to class in less than four hours,” Matthieu let his brother lead him away. They had their Sentinels fly them home, and Matthieu crashed with his lights still on.
With the help of some Dry-Out, he managed to clean up and make it to lunch with Grandmother and Renee. Asking detailed questions about their health, he decided he would spend as much time with his grandparents these two weeks as he possibly could, squeezing them for information, stories, tips, philosophies of life, whatever it was that made up their essence.
He asked Renee, “Vincent is, what, about nine or ten?”
“He’s nine and a half. Why?”
“Oh, I was just curious if Aunt Sophia had ever considered living here in the Palace. She’s so capable and she knows so much about everything, perhaps she could help the Bradleys? She’s close to Rowena in age, after all.
“Since Vincent is between Louis and Andrew in birth order, they could be a threesome like Roman and David are with Domenic. And Sophia would really be able to help you and Grandmother.” Matthieu looked Renee full in the face.
“Very true. I’ve had your help all these years, Renee. You could use Sophia’s help.” Grandmother picked at her food. “And you know Alex. Although his work at the Imperial Science Institute is invaluable, he’s always been a medic at heart. He could help Annette establish a new routine in the infirmary to keep up with the health of all the youngsters.”
“I like that. In addition, Jacob will be turning twelve soon enough, and he could certainly use Ricky’s help with the fiery Veronica,” Renee laughed.
“Fiery? What’s this?” Matthieu asked.
“Your experiment in social engineering is going well for the participants,” Renee explained, “but for those who have to wait another year to be considered part of the group? Well, let’s just say Veronica’s unhappy about it and driving Annette to distraction.”
“In some respects, that’s good,” Matthieu decided. “It’s a rite of passage, they’ll have to learn patience, and it’ll hold their attention as a matter of achievement.” Changing the subject, he asked Grandmother, “Do you know what Grandfather’s doing today?”
Matthieu went to visit the Bradleys briefly and told them of his plans after lunch. They thanked him, so he headed to Grandfather’s office to ask his secretary about his schedule.
“Your Highness, feel free to go right in, if you like,” the man said fondly. “Your grandfather would have your father shadow him of a day at your age. Anytime you’d like to be present for his meetings, simply slip into the room and take a fairly distant vantage.”
Some moments later, Matthieu slipped into Grandfather’s office with a servant, both bearing coffee trays. As Grandfather and Father looked up, he lifted the tray a bit and bent his head down so as not to suggest he was demanding their attention.
Grandfather’s current office had seating arranged in three semi-circles focused on his settee against the far wall, with small end tables for each settee or arm chair. Matthieu helped the servant set out and pour coffee for everyone on the side-board, slipping cups of coffee onto end tables with the two watchmen in attendance before taking a cup of his own to the next-nearest arm chair, to the side of and a bit behind the dukes in the first circle. The five dukes in the meeting didn’t even realize he was there, he was certain.
He listened to the discussion over whether the Ducal Assembly should be informed of the nature of the Rutherfords’ treasons, or whether they should simply lay charges, declare the evidence as state secrets, and hold the usual execution at Sentinel Command, reading the charges in couched terms.
Grandfather eventually asked, “What do you think, Matthieu?” The dukes all turned to him in astonishment, greeting him with surprise.
After nodding and smiling at them, Matthieu asked, “Your Graces? Do you know what the treason entailed?”
“Not exactly,” Duke Bellamy said with chagrin. “Just that he’s been chemically interrogated.”
“Then how can you reasonably argue that everyone should be informed about it, when the Emperor himself hesitates to inform you, his closest advisors in the Assembly?”
Three of the dukes looked peeved, as if he were being cheeky. “Do you know what the treason entailed?” one asked.
“Yes, though not every detail,” Matthieu replied truthfully, since he hadn’t seen the Rutherford interrogations. Thinking about what Renee called his ‘social experiment’, he decided to take a broad view instead of what must have sounded like a personal attack.
“The Ducal Assembly’s general function is to care for the Empire, true, but your individual responsibilities are to your duchies, facing inward and affecting the broad populace. The Rutherfords’ treasons involved the Empire, true, but they were pinpoint and interplanetary in scope, facing outward to possibly affect entire worlds.
“The Imperial Family is the interface between the Empire and the galaxy, so if we were to divulge the nature of the interplanetary threat, we might end up encouraging copycats. You can’t imagine the lengths Grandfather’s gone to throughout the years to avoid copycat incidents.” Matthieu deliberately displayed a fierce grimace.
Astonished one and all, the dukes looked at each other in silence. To drive the point home, Matthieu concluded, “In truth, copycats might look at the macrocosm and attempt such things in your duchies in microcosm. You’ve been well-served by the Imperial Family over the years in ways you can’t begin to imagine.”
“Indeed,” Father said, leaving it at that while he sipped his coffee. Grandfather simply nodded, looking each duke in the eye.
With a bit more discussion, the dukes soon rose and thanked the Emperor, with everyone shaking hands. Each duke made it a point to shake Matthieu’s hand before leaving, too.
Grandfather sat down with Father; they looked at each other and began to laugh. Matthieu was perplexed. “What’s so funny?”
“When Zhaiden was your age, he had a knack for summarizing a situation, too.” Picking up his coffee, Grandfather added, “I presume the need to coddle their egos over time has led you into thinking circuitously, son.”
Father chuckled and nodded, and Grandfather turned back to Matthieu. “We had allotted this meeting two hours. Now I don’t know what to do for the next eighty minutes.”
Matthieu grinned. “I suppose you could let me squeeze you for information, hey?”
“Squeeze away,” Grandfather replied, eyes bright.
◊ ◊ ◊
Matthieu was ready with the Bradleys when his sibs and cousins returned from Northbridge Prep that afternoon. The Bradleys would usually lead an afternoon class until dinner and otherwise simply spent evenings supervising each student’s homework or social activities.
Matthieu had the servants set up drinks and light snacks in the Academy Salon, so everyone chattered a bit until they settled into seats with Matthieu up front. All eyes were upon him when he went to the door and invited everyone’s Sentinel agents in to stand around the room.
“You know I can’t talk about any secret assignments, but there are things I can tell you about that’ll help you get a good idea of what to expect when you’re grown, about how people really act and think about the Imperial family.” Matthieu lifted Grace’s butterfly box. “So I have an assignment for you.”
Opening it up, he pulled out the twelve book-disks he had selected for this lesson. Handing the now-empty carry-case back to Grace, he thanked her once again for letting him use it. “You all brought your palm pads, right?” Everyone dug them out.
“What I’m going to do is give you a book-disk to look at. You are not to read the book itself,” he emphasized. “What I want you to do is pick a page in the middle of the book, look at the notes the person made, and try to figure out whose book it was.” Everyone grinned and laughed, so Matthieu handed a disk to each person.
Grace spoke first. “This has to be from the Imperial Archivist. This note says, ‘Give Empress two days’ notice’, and then a bit further on it says, ‘During recess’.”
“Very good. Now, what is the book about?”
Grace blinked, puzzled. “Ceremonies and Rituals.”
“So, out of Grandmother, Grandfather, Renee, Father, Uncle Phillip, and the Imperial Archivist, before you read that note, who would you say that book belonged to?”
“I… I don’t know. Any one of them, I suppose.”
“How did you know whose it was, then?”
“It said, ‘Empress’. Not ‘Father’ or ‘Mother’.”
“Yet it could have been Renee’s book,” Matthieu pointed out.
Grace shook her head. “No, she always calls Grandmother Felice.”
“Very good. And what did the archivist mean by ‘recess’?”
Grace read the paragraph before laughing. “I originally thought he meant one of the quarterly recesses of the Ducal Assembly. But he’s talking about the gaps during a parade between groups.”
“And what is one supposed to do during the recess between groups?”
“Display the scrolling description of the next group on the huge display screens behind the parade avenue,” Grace read back. “The two days’ notice is for changes made in scheduling the groups.”
“Now, are you sure that book was from the Imperial Archivist?” Matthieu asked again.
Grace paused. “Well, it should be. That day we went through everyone’s libraries, you and Theo went to call the archivist for permission to go through his.”
“That’s true. We did that, too. Yet of all the people who work at the Imperial Palace, who would be the most likely to have owned that book and made those notes?”
Grace blinked. “The social directors.” Matthieu nodded. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“You made easy, natural assumptions, and they were all correct. Yet the original person who owned that book-disk was Lady Darya Cheval, who was Grandfather’s social director when he married Grandmother, 46 years ago. That’s why it was in the Imperial Archivist’s collection. Lady Darya was teaching Grandmother her duties as Empress.”
Matthieu looked around. “You can learn a lot about a person’s history and the way their mind works from things such as these notes. But you always have to put it into context. When did they read the book? What was their focus at the time? Why did they need the information?” He looked around again. “Has anyone else figured out who owned their book-disk and made the notes?”
They worked on this for another half-hour. When everyone was done, he collected the book-disks. “Why did we do this, Matthieu?” Lynette asked.
“For a few different reasons. First, you should always think about perspective.” Matthieu was gratified to see nods. “Second, on my secret assignment, some people passed each other secret messages in the notes to book-disks.” The youngsters all gasped. “And I had to figure out who. It wasn’t easy, sometimes.”
He held up a book-disk. “There are a lot of notes for this book-disk. One of them says, ‘Tell Felice’. Now, who could have owned this book?” They narrowed it down to a handful of people. “Now, let’s say that the note said, ‘Tell Lynette’. Who could have owned it?”
“Any one of us,” David said. “As well as our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles; it could have been a lot of people.”
“Right. What I’m trying to get you to really understand is two things. First, every word you say and every word you write says something about you, where you are right now, what you’re thinking.
“And second, almost everything you express is permanent and accessible. Take a look.” Matthieu fanned his hand toward the Sentinel agents. “Ask any one of them. How many video feeds are in the Imperial Palace?”
The Sentinels all stood, hands clasped behind their backs. Kayla finally asked, “How many cameras are there, Captain Sheffield?”
“4,783. In the Imperial Palace,” he specified. They all gasped.
Matthieu smiled when Richard asked, “And how many on the grounds?”
“17,270.”
Matthieu thanked Captain Sheffield. “Now, how much more information would a person have from a video than just a note in a book-disk?” He lifted his disk. “All I did was tell you two words about this disk, yet look how much you can figure out from them. How much more a video?
“Your tone of voice, saying, ‘Tell Lynette’, could be happy, or dramatic, or sad. Your facial features, the way you’re moving, what you’re wearing – are you in your pajamas or are you dressed for a ball? – all that information about you is being recorded and analyzed by Sentinel agents every moment of your life, with the exception of your personal suites. Now, how many Sentinel agents are there on the planet?”
As the gaping and blinking went on for some time, Matthieu decided they had had enough of that. “Never mind, you can find all that out some other time. I have something else I want you to do.
“Go to your Sentinel agents, now, and ask them what the one most important thing they think you should learn is. It doesn’t matter who is supposed to teach it to you, or how vague or specific they say, but before you come back to your seats, I want you to have two different goals in your future, one from each Sentinel agent. Go on.” He waved them toward the Sentinels.
Bernard and Rowena wandered over to Matthieu. “Powerful,” was all Bernard said.
“Yes. We’ve worked with them a lot about the impact of their words, but we usually couched it in personal terms,” Rowena mentioned.
“Thank you for that,” Matthieu said. “After all, that’s what’s truly important.”
As they all resumed their seats, looking thoughtful, Matthieu said, “Let’s see a show of hands. How many of you were told by one of your Sentinel agents the most important thing you could learn was discretion?” Eight hands were raised.
“That’s the essence of my lesson today. We are Imperial, which means our words matter. We’re scrutinized for every possible cue. Sentinels, the men who scrutinize us, know what we need to learn. Over all, if I had to set the goal of discretion for you, I would have you practice with each other and with your Sentinels on finding ways to express yourself without outside people knowing what you’re saying.
“Instead of writing a note that says, ‘Tell Lynette’, perhaps you could just write, ‘Tell L’. If the context doesn’t make it clear, for whoever you are writing to, you might write, ‘Tell LS’. Since there are three cousins whose names begin with L, LS could represent the L who is related to S, namely, Lynette Sophia. LZ could be Louis Zhaiden, LJ for Loretta Josef.”
“Both Kayla and I would be KE, though,” Kyle pointed out.
“And DZ for Domenic Zhaiden or Desiree Zhaiden,” Domenic said.
“True, which is why I think you should all figure it out together,” Matthieu said. “I just made a quick suggestion. You could be KE for Kayla Elizabeth and KG for Kyle Gerard, or DR for Desiree Renee and DZ for Domenic Zhaiden, for example.
“I’m simply wondering, ‘What if someone picked up notes you make in the future that you didn’t want them to know who you were talking about?’ Since discretion matters, you need to work together to find ways to communicate with and about Imperials as secretly as possible.
“Spies abound, everywhere on the planet. We’re diligent about figuring out who we can trust in the Imperial Palace, but that doesn’t mean we’re perfect at it. You can always trust Sentinels and watchmen, because their loyalty is tested in a thousand ways. Otherwise, discretion in your every word and every deed is a critical part of being Imperial.
“I had a conversation with Grandmother once. Today at lunch, I asked her permission to tell you when she learned how important her words and actions were.” The sharpened interest which that invoked in the youngsters almost made Matthieu smile.
“Before she was even married, she was at a ball dancing with a minister, and he said something very offensive to her. She ran out of the room, trying not to cry. Lady Darya Cheval found Grandfather, who had the minister brought to him.
“Grandfather demanded an answer, for Grandmother was so upset she couldn’t even speak of it. The minister wouldn’t speak of it, either, and he began crying. He snatched a pulse-pistol from a Sentinel agent and tried to kill himself.” Matthieu noticed the stern faces on all the Sentinels; they must have had the story pounded into them because that kind of thing would be impossible to do, nowadays.
“There was another agent there who shot the minister simply because he had grabbed the pulse pistol. I asked Grandfather if I could tell you this story, too, and he gave me permission, but he asks that none of you ever ask him or Grandmother for further details because it’s still a painful memory for them,” he specified, staring at each student until they nodded.
“Anyway, what matters is this. From that point on, Grandmother trained herself to always be cautious with her words. She speaks precisely at all times. It’s automatic for her by now. It was automatic for Grandfather because he was raised that way. I feel like it’s automatic for me and Theo now, too, for the most part.
“What it means to be Imperial is to always watch your words, your actions, who you greet and how you greet them. And when you learn the codes, you need to make sure you try not to use any code words or phrases unless you mean them.”
“What are the codes?” Desiree asked.
“There are codes that Sentinel uses about us and with us. I had to use a code several days ago. I was in a situation where I needed to talk to the person in private, but the only words I could use in front of these other people were ‘bizarre’ and ‘nothing important’ right next to each other.
“‘Bizarre’ is one of the code-words for ‘danger’, and to almost immediately say it was ‘nothing important’ was to distract other people by telling the listener it really was important. So the listener made sure to get me in a private situation as soon as possible to hear my information. It took well over an hour, but he managed to do it.”
With all his will, Matthieu straightened for the final message. “What you also must realize is you can’t tell anyone who isn’t directly Imperial about these codes. Not even your mother or father who married Imperial,” he emphasized. “There will be things you can tell them about, but the codes you can’t, unless they work at Sentinel Command like Rosita and Denise.
“None of your Royal friends, at all, ever. No one but each other and Sentinels. Although most of the watchmen were former Sentinels, that isn’t universally true, so you can’t even assume they know them. Remember, always be cautious with your words.”
As the meeting broke up and everyone went to their suites to wash up for dinner, Theo wandered over to clap Matthieu on the shoulder. “Man, you are something else. The summer seminars are good for all different topics, but you leading seminars on how to be Imperial can’t be more important. Or timely.” His eyes crinkled. “I should have used a few codes last night.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” Matthieu asked in concern.
“I was ready to leave at the demi,” Theo said, referring to the extra 28 minutes attached to the end of the 26-hour day on Sinclair Demesne. “I fell asleep in class today,” he admitted with some chagrin.
Matthieu laughed.