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  The session closed and the Emperor moved back to his throne room, with twenty senior staff including Lod Bander. ‘Micklemass One is becoming a problem sire. We must move more military personnel and hardware to the system, just as a reminder that independence movements will be crushed before they begin,’ Bander said.

  ‘It’s already begun,’ Crown Prince Zarka added. ‘Now is the time, not to wait for them to make their move against us. Plus my feeling is that Micklemass Two will join the uprising, from the way they always come to One’s defence.’

  ‘And what is their move against us going to be?’ The Emperor asked.

  ‘Probably a declaration of some kind, followed by an attack on our posts there. Our embassy building, our military bases,’ Bander suggested.

  ‘They haven’t got a strong enough military for that, surely?’ one of the advisors said.

  ‘They’ve been buying equipment from back channels here,’ Karry said. ‘That’s what we have found on the moon – the unauthorised settlement. And according to my Second’s last report, the prisoner has told us that the buying of military equipment has been happening for a while.’

  ‘How long?’ the Emperor asked.

  ‘Unsure. He said the settlement has been there for six months and has been processing the purchase of weapons for the whole of that time. We are going through the records as we speak,’ Karry said.

  ‘I do not want a conflict. Send our best negotiator to discuss our discoveries today. He or she must report to me directly,’ the Emperor commanded.

  The meeting broke up and Karry headed off back to her large luxurious palace official apartment. It contained a meeting room and a large office with administration offices, a large lobby and an open sitting room which had wide and high windows facing out onto the city below. When she arrived her Second was waiting for her. ‘Enter the technical suite,’ Karry told her second. Her second stepped forward into a room, with an interface on one side and a line of seven copies of herself. ‘Download,’ she instructed with a disinterested, matter-of-fact voice, indicating that what she was about to do to her Second was meaningless. Just managing a sophisticated computer. Her second stood inside a small chamber as her memories were quickly downloaded into the computer. Karry then closed the glass door, pressed a red button and stood back and watched as a liquid poured down over the android and began to melt it. The glass case filled up with clear blue liquid as the android disintegrated. When it was done and her second was gone, the red button turned green. Karry opened the glass door and looked down at the drain at the bottom of the cubicle. All the pieces of the android were now draining away. Karry closed the door and moved across to the others and moved a clip to one side, as the next deactivated android moved forward to take the place of the old one. She then turned to the computer and her EyeSpec lit up, as it showed her a review of the highlights of the time the android had been active. She was then presented with an option to take its memories as her own, which she declined. She then moved up to the interview with the fugitive they’d captured. He admitted working for Micklemass One and had identified the name of his superior. She closed the page and stepped back into her office and sat down at her desk. ‘Mairo,’ she said into a small communications device on her desk. Mairo was her Chief of Staff. ‘Have we taken possession of the space station X35?’

  ‘Yes ma’am, came the reply.’

  Chapter Twelve.

  ‘The Emperor will do his annual parade through the Imperial Avenue and down to the palace, where he will choose a prisoner to pardon. Obviously, this choice has already been made. Your name has been pushed to the top and I fully expect you to go in front of the Emperor to be pardoned.’ The officer explained the circumstances. He was a senior, but anonymous member of the Secret Police. Don knew nothing of who he worked for directly – where this assassination plot was coming from and who was set to benefit from a coup. He did know that Crown Prince Zarka will become the sovereign.

  ‘And that’s when I kill him?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Don was sat in a small plain room. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, whether he was in the bowels of the Palace, or some security building or prison.

  ‘What security will he have? Who will I have to fight to get to him and to get away afterwards?’

  ‘I’m getting to that,’ he snapped. He was dressed in a black tunic, with no embellishments. Just plain black, with a grey shirt underneath. He was pale, as if he’d spent his entire long career in places like this. No sunlight or fresh air. Just internal rooms deep within buildings that served the state security apparatus. ‘You will enter the chamber after the parade which will run down the main street. The Emperor will travel down the Avenue towards the Palace. It will be lined with well-wishers; you’ve seen this in the past I presume?’

  Don nodded.

  ‘When he arrives, he will take his seat in the chamber ready for the pardons. You will be first in. Inside will be two security personnel who will flank you on either side. They’re armed, so be careful to neutralise them first.’

  ‘And you think I can do this without getting shot?’

  ‘With fight protocols you have in your implant, you will be able to do this.’

  ‘You’re a little overconfident. Whatever I have installed, the security will have the same, or better.’

  ‘We have hacked the security staff implants. They will not have those protocols.’

  Don nodded and then looked down at the table. He wasn’t relishing this mission. He had almost convinced himself it was doomed to failure and he would lose his life.

  ‘Once you have neutralised the security personnel you will be free to kill the Emperor. Once it’s done, more security staff will enter the chamber. And they will be quick. Make sure you kill him quickly. Break his neck or get a weapon from the security detail.’

  ‘You need to make up your mind. This plan relies on me killing him before the chamber gets flooded with guards.’

  ‘Okay. What do you think? Break his neck or shoot him with a weapon?’

  Don thought for a while.

  ‘Fumbling round a dead body to recover a weapon will take time. I will have to break his neck, I guess. Unless a weapon ends up on the floor at my feet, then I will shoot him.’

  ‘There are unknown, unknowns, obviously. You must assess the situation yourself.’

  ‘When the chamber gets stormed what then?’

  ‘Behind the throne in the chamber is a secret door. There is ornate wallpaper covering a concealed entrance. The door can be opened by pushing the centre of a rose, at waist height on the left of the throne. It is the same width as the throne, so that’s how you find the door lock. Once it’s opened, there is a long corridor. At the end of the corridor, you will be arrested by my security team and protected from the others, who belong to the Emperor’s staff. You will then be moved to a ship and sent off to a secure location.’

  ‘Right. That’s all clear. I just hope it goes as smoothly as our little planning session today.’

  ‘It will. And if doesn’t you’ll be put to death on the day.’

  ‘Great. That fills me with confidence.’

  ‘Just remember, the Emperor personally ordered your fathers execution.’

  ‘Only because he wanted to tell the president of Micklemass One about the Rhodium deposit. This is truly a nasty regime.’

  ‘And you will end it,’ the man said. He hid the fact that he was more in favour in a worse despot in the Crown Prince, who planned to attack Micklemass 1 and put down the resistance.

  Chapter Thirteen.

  Don and his two handlers watched from a balcony as the Emperor was taken by an ornate carriage, dressed in gold and red, being pulled by four black horses. There were hundreds of security personnel and droids lining the root, in between the parade and the adoring people cheering from behind barriers. The Crown Prince followed in his not as ornate carriage a few metres behind the Emperor. ‘Come on, let’s get you into position,’ one of Don’s handlers said
. They moved back into the apartment and left. Don had nothing except the clothes on his back with him. He felt anxious, with a knot in his stomach. He feared being betrayed by the security team who were orchestrating this assassination and coup against the Emperor. He suspected he would be used a crazed patsy, angry about his father being killed. Angry about being sacked and fearful of being killed by the Cleaner Corp. It would be so much easier to use him this way than to smuggle him out of the palace. And the money he was promised. How would they hide the trail from presumably the Crown Prince’s funds to his hidden bank account? There will be a thorough investigation after this has been carried out. Would they find the link?

  All these questions went round and round in his head. He wasn’t the type to be fearful or to worry excessively, but this had him very worried. He could be killed by the security team in the Throne Room. There was no guarantee that his training module for hand to hand combat would beat theirs. He had been promised that the security team in the Throne Room have had theirs hacked and disabled. But this could be another lie.

  They moved swiftly down corridors and through large rooms and into a network of offices full of civil servants and top officials, until eventually he was put into a waiting area, just off to one side of the Throne Room. And there he waited alone and in silence. His anxiety began to grow. Could he pull this off? He had to if he was to survive. And if he was met by hostile security staff after the job had been done, he would fight them too. Whatever he had been promised he was on his own. He would not relax until he was away from here and the money he’d been promised was in his account.

  He could hear loud talking and people entering the chamber ahead of the Emperor. The noise of people talking was quite loud, as they all tried to talk over the din. Then it suddenly went quiet. He listened intensely. This must be it. The beginning of the pardon ceremony. Then he heard a trumpet sound, which played a battle song for a couple of minutes before he heard the announcer speaking. ‘All rise for the Emperor!’ he yelled. He heard the shuffling sounds of people standing up and a little murmuring.

  After some formalities the guests took their seats. ‘Bring in the prisoner!’ came another shout. The door to the room opened and two security personnel entered and stood either side of him. They walked out into the Throne Room. The Emperor was dressed in his white and gold tunic and white trousers with a gold stripes down the sides. Next to him in purple, covered in medals and with gold apelets, was the Crown Prince. Then there were the Emperors closest advisors, also dressed in purple, but without the adornments that the Crown Prince had on his tunic. Then the rest had red tunics with various medals on them. He was walked up to the bottom of four steps up to the throne. He was guided down to his knees by the security men. As he knelt, he looked up to see if he could see the release catch for the hidden door which would become his escape route in a few seconds time. It wasn’t too obvious. He walked up to the throne, flanked by two guards with small machine guns.

  ‘Kneel,’ Lord Bander said, who was stood to one side. As Don knelt, he grabbed one of the guns and barged over the guard with his shoulder. He ran forward while firing bullets into the Emperors body. He made a squealing noise and slumped to one side, blood coming out of the bullet wounds across his chest and head. Don moved quickly while the room went into a blind panic, running away and screaming and shouting. Don hit the button first time and the door popped open, as the second guard came after him. He slipped through the door and turned around and pushed it against the guard. There was one single bolt to lock it with, which he realised wouldn’t keep the guards from breaking it open, but he crossed the bolt over and stood back and fired the weapon again, hoping to hit the guards who were pushing and kicking the door. He then ran down the corridor, through a door into an antechamber where he was met by the men who had set it up. He still didn’t know their names, but he didn’t need to know.

  ‘Successful?’ asked the man he’d been dealing with.

  ‘I think so,’ he replied. They ran along a second corridor and through a door which led to an air lock. They passed through and out of the building where a ship waited for him.

  ‘This transport will take you to your destination. By the time you get there, your money will be in your account. Goodbye Mr Jackson.’ Don didn’t say goodbye as he climbed into the craft. Before he’d put his seatbelt on, the craft was already in the air. It shot off quickly, but Don noticed pulse laser cannon fire, was being shot at the craft.

  ‘Shit,’ said the pilot, as he swerved and sped up. Before long they’d entered space. ‘We’re heading for a warp gate, so hold on.’ The ship sped up again, to just below light speed. Within seconds they began to slow again, as a large warp gate appeared, with a variety of battleships, cargo ships and private ships queued to cross the gate and into a worm hole. Eventually it was their turn. The pilot put the ship into position. There was a bright red clock counting down on the instrument panel. It counted down from ten, then the view through the windows went a bright blinding white colour, as it passed through the gate. On the other side, the pilot headed slowly to dock into a space station.

  ‘You’ll be picked up from here, in about fifteen minutes,’ the pilot said. ‘We need to switch in case this ship is being tracked. Your new pilot will know nothing of who you are, so keep your mouth shut.’

  ‘Okay,’ Don answered.

  The pilot leant over to a compartment in the cockpit and removed a folder. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘These are your new papers. Your new identity is inside.’ Don took the folder and opened it up and removed a small card with his new name and photo on it. Gotan Bridger 89432. He read silently assuming the pilot had not looked inside. He reached back inside the folder and took out another card. It had a bank name and number on it with a fingerprint reader on one side. He pressed his index finger against the reader and a little screen lit up. He set up security, following the instructions on the screen and then his account balance appeared. 50 million U. He’d got his money. This calmed his nerves a little, as he reasoned, why pay someone you intend to kill, because he was completely at the mercy of this pilot and the next? All he could do is trust them. For all he knew he would be killed to keep him quiet and cover up the assassination. For that reason, he felt anxious and his senses heightened. He may need to defend himself against these Imperial spies, whoever they’re working for. He guessed by now that this assassination and coup was for the Crown Prince. They had a long history of killing each other and seeing that they were so likely to be immortal, he was questioning why they ever had children at all, because there were only two ways for an Emperor to die and that was accident or murder.

  As soon as he left the ship the next pilot stepped forward. ‘You’re Gotan Bridger 89432?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said and pushed out his hand to shake his.

  ‘The ship will be ready shortly. There is a waiting area through that door. I will come and get you when it’s ready,’ he explained. Don headed off to the waiting area. He walked into a large room with seats and tables, filled with a mixture of nervous looking people and people who made everyone else feel nervous. Plenty of rough looking, large men, who glared at him as he crossed the floor to a free seat. After ten minutes the pilot appeared, and he stood up. As he did the television screen in the room, caught his eye. His face against the backdrop of a news bulletin reporting the death of the Emperor. He sped up out of the room and followed the pilot and rushed up the stairs as quickly as he could. Hopefully no one had spotted him before he’d got the chance to leave. Now he had money, he would be able to get some surgery to change his face. That would need to be his top priority. It had not occurred to him that the hunt to find him would reach to the farthest reaches of the Empire and that there would be no safe haven. He believed, according to his deal, that the Crown Prince wouldn’t be all that motivated to find him either. But as long as he was alive, he was a risk. No-one in the new regime will want him alive now the job was done. Perhaps he should dump this pilot and buy his own s
hip; choose his own path, his own destiny?

  The journey took two hours, including travelling through two warp gates. He would feel happier once he’d arrived and get his life back under his own control, rather than relying on the spies who had planned and executed the assassination.

  They arrived at the Clement system, a rocky planet that hosted 2 billion people. It had been terraformed to take human life. It had a magnetic core, which allowed life to exist, but there were oxygen problems, as this planet didn’t quite produce the right mix of gases, so they had huge machines pumping air, along with oxygen production using algae, a lot like those on Earth. The pilot landed at the main dock in the main city. It was busy. The pilot nodded goodbye as they disembarked. The first thing Don wanted to do is to get hold of a new identity and then get off this planet and go somewhere else. Somewhere they couldn’t find him.

  There was a bar nearby. What should he do, just go up to someone and ask them if they produced new identities? He would have to stay here until he found one. Moving on wasn’t going to help. He also needed to shift his money away from that account. That he could do easily, once he’d got some new ID. Withdraw the amount into cash and put in a new account, with his new name.

  Chapter Fourteen.

  The aftermath of the killing was felt right across the Palace. The room was cleared leaving only the Emperor dead and slumped in his throne, blood all over the grand gold chair and on the floor and on the wall behind him. The secret door had been smashed open. The Crown Prince and Lord Bander both stood in silence over the corpse as they thought about him and what they had done.