Chapter 15 (Patreon)

Chapter 15

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"It's cold." Alex exhaled, and the wicked prickly wind greedily snatched away the white wisps of his breath, playing with them among the sparse scarlet drops of stars and technical lights under the dark metallic skies. All that remained of the real sky was a bright streak somewhere near the horizon. Underfoot, under the humming bars covered with frost, floated scraps of clouds, golden at the edges, the rays of the sun left behind the iron skies.

The communications tower resembled a giant nail hammered into the planet, and they were below the base of the nail's hat, obscuring the sky, on a small technical platform, ten paces across, made of metal grids.

It's not a good place to walk. Alex walked cautiously to the edge of the platform, stopping within a couple of steps of the low railing, and looked down to see where he'd fallen. But a good place to die.

Through the gaps in the clouds, the corpse lying nearly a mile below resembled a tiny red blotch because of the color of the clothes mostly. "But only mostly.

There were plenty of other red organics at the scene of death, too.

He turned to the attendant and clarified:

"It's pretty cold, and you said possible traces were probably destroyed by heat."

"Quite right, Your Lordship." The policeman was wearing a breathing mask, and his voice sounded muffled and unclear. "At times of heavy load, during the evening peak, the tower supports millions of connections at a time and gets considerably hotter-above the denaturation temperature of proteins and certainly well above the melting temperature of the water. Therefore, all traces in the frost the deceased or anyone else might have left behind is destroyed in the first evening peak - that is, within fifteen minutes of the estimated time of death."

"It was a lucky coincidence..." Alex chuckled, looking down at the golden clouds. It was a little creepy because of the height, and the very low railing only encouraged the silly thought, You're going to fall.

"Is it just me, or is the railing dangerously low?" he complained aloud. "Below hip level, you could accidentally fall off. Is there any technical necessity for such a height?"

"It's more of a convention, Your Lordship," replied the police forensic officer who accompanied him. "Humans aren't supposed to be here, and droids have no use for railings. As for this case, there is no conclusion yet, and it is not for me to make one, but it is unlikely that the Duke of Assaro fall down by accident."

The policeman was quite right. He and the police, in general, were absolutely unqualified to investigate the murder of a titled nobleman. When the droids found the corpse a day and a half after the death, it was just a corpse, and to the police squad arrived, it was just a corpse of an expensively dressed old man. And to the forensic scientist who had time to arrive, it was just a corpse, significantly damaged by the fall and three cycles of heating. It was not until later, after identification, almost two days after death, that the corpse was no longer just a corpse. He became the corpse of Baron Assaro, or the corpse of his lordship the Duke of Assaro, in imperial parlance. A member of the Privy Council of the Great House of Melato and in fact the head of Melatian diplomacy. At this point, the corpse was no longer a police problem but a problem for Alex:

Of which I was literally informed by his imperial majesty. In a very direct way. The emperor was mildly displeased that a titled nobleman had died while serving the emperor. And very, very much wanted to know how it could have happened. A perfectly understandable wish. Except that the performer is absolutely awful.

It wasn't that he personally had to find out everything, but rather create an investigative team and make sure it worked honestly and without bias, but that didn't make things much better.

There will be a lot of attention to this case and from His Majesty and not only. It's unlikely we'll find anything, and I'm guilty. Once again, Alex came to a disappointing conclusion.

You set me up, Baron, you set me up. He thought, looking down at the scene of the fall and absently tapping his foot on the frosted bars of the floor: Why wasn't he arrested before? He'd be alive now. Probably.

There were clouds below, the glow of the sun on the metal of the city, and a larger platform a level below, where the flyer in which the dead man had arrived stood. It was a black, shiny, very expensive, small, two-seat, sports-type vehicle: Not quite the vehicle you'd expect from a ninety-seven-year-old man, but everyone has their tastes.

The flyer had stood untouched for two days with the key on the dashboard. This is further evidence that no one was here, and if they were, they weren't interested in the money.

"Then why do you think he fell from here?" Alex temporarily stopped his pensive contemplation and looked again at the forensic scientist. "If there's no sign of him? His flyer is on the platform below."

"After analyzing possible variants of the body's fall, the analytical machines assumed that the fall started from here." The forensic scientist shrugged his shoulders. "But that's just a guess."

"Well, thanks for the tour." Alex bowed his head gratefully and beckoned to his guards. "Let's go downstairs."

After tapping his feet on the rumbling lattice stairs and descending to the landing below, he bid farewell to the policeman and headed first to his bot hanging at the very edge, away from the evidence, the baron's flyer.

"How are you feeling, Lady Pell?" He asked her as he finally entered the warm salon, for he had been chilling for a few minutes on the platform.

"Forgive me, Lord Cassard." In a faint voice, a still-pale Nadine asked. "I reacted like a child."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Alex replied sincerely. "I almost felt sick to my stomach myself."

The sight and, most importantly, the smell of a corpse that fell from a great height and then lay there for two days after going through several cycles of heating - would make anyone sick.

"I didn't expect such a reaction." Nadina continued. "I was told the real body is in the morgue, and it's just a hologram, but the view...and the smell. Why are they simulating the smell?" She asked with such genuine resentment in her voice that even Alex felt a little guilty.

"The body is in the morgue, but blood and tissue fragments are scattered all over the site. They smell. In fact, given the height from which he fell, I'm surprised he didn't get smeared more."

"He didn't mean what he said about the tissue fragments," Nadine paled more than ever and covered her mouth with her palm, and took deep breaths:

"Don't. I'm fine." She said quickly, seeing Alex reaching for her communicator. "Just a mild seizure."

The first time she saw the baron's corpse, Nadine vomited and became so dizzy that she could not stand on her feet. Luckily there were medics in Alex's escort group.

"After a certain height..." Finally, she said without stopping her breathing exercises. "The human body can no longer accelerate anymore."

"Indeed. I didn't even think of that." A little embarrassed, Alex admitted. "It turns out that height only affects the time of fall..."

"Twelve seconds," Nadine said, breathing deeply and looking somewhere in the space in front of her. "I counted. He was falling for twelve seconds. Twelve seconds, he was alive, and he knew he was doomed. A horrible death." Quietly she said. "He was conscious, wasn't he?"

"It's unknown." Alex shrugged. "They didn't find anything in the blood, but it's been a long time. The cops told me: if he was stunned with a paralyzer, for example, there's no trace of it now."

"Do they still think it's not suicide?"

"Anything's possible." He stretched, raising his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. "But forensics found injuries on the Baron's body unrelated to the fall, traces of multiple blows, abrasions, and hematomas."

"You mean he was also beaten?" Nadine interrogated in a muffled voice, covering her face with her palm.

"Well, in theory, he could have gotten these injuries somewhere else and then come here, for some reason choosing his route in a way that would make it as difficult as possible to track him down and get himself killed. But most likely, yes. He was beaten, or it's a struggle with the killer. Which could have been one. It doesn't take much strength to handle an old man. Probably."

"It's awful," Nadine repeated. "We saw him just four days ago, and now he's dead."

"More than once, I've thought, I wish they'd arrested him then, too," Alex admitted with a wry smile, "but it seems that he who is destined to crash will not be arrested."

Baron Assaro was one of the three Melatians who sat on the level below as he and Nadina waited for the arrival ceremony to begin, and he was the only one of the three who was not arrested. Unfortunately.

"Maybe that's why he wasn't arrested." Quietly, Nadine said, looking at Alex meaningfully. "What could he have crashed later?"

"His Majesty was very annoyed by this death and insisted in every way that I get to the bottom of it." Alex confidently parried the conspiratorial innuendos.

"Yes, but it's you, the one with the least experience, who's going to get it. Lady Pell repeated the call, striking a sore spot. Alex had caught himself several times, thinking this was all too much of a setup.

And the baron's death itself, one hundred percent, has something to do with the attempts on my life and the attempt to organize a rebellion. He thought unhappily, answering only out loud:

"I hope you're wrong Lady Pell. That's all I can do, hope."

"I'm sorry." Lady Pell smiled faintly. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that it all seems so suspicious."

"What can I do." Philosophically, Alex sighed. "There's always something suspicious around me."

"What do you plan to do next?"

"Form an investigative team." He shrugged. "But first, I'll go to the palace again."

"With a report to His Majesty?"

"If that's what it takes, of course, but just a few meetings. This sudden death made a mess of my plans."

"Do the meetings have anything to do with this case?" In Nadine's faint voice, a shadow of interest slipped.

"No," Alex replied, not wanting to go into too much detail. "It's personal, not part of the service."

This answer suited Lady Pell well, or else her condition was not conducive to curiosity.

The formal part of the Ergo-Seneschal's job, and thus the part where Nadine's help was required, was already completed, and a car from the Peltar House office soon arrived to pick her up. After saying goodbye to Nadine, Alex quickly, in less than half an hour, dealt with the police officers. There were minor bureaucratic issues, and with a sense of relief returned to his landing boat - this place had left him feeling depressed and cold.

"On to the next point." He said over the intercom to the pilots as he took his seat.

The flight was not far, so the acceleration and noise in the cabin were quite bearable. At last, it was possible to have a normal conversation with Taer. They'd already had a moment or two since the summons to the Emperor, but nothing more because Nadine was there.

"Sure you don't need my help?" Taer began instead of greeting me, and her voice sounded very concerned. "Maybe I should come?"

"Right, you're not an Investigator, and I'm not an Investigator. Besides, Sir Ulter is just eager to help me." Alex tried to reassure her. "I take it intelligence at home isn't drooling at the thought of being able to conduct 'investigative activities' on House Melato property."

"And you'll accept their help?" From the sound of Taer's voice, I could tell she didn't believe in that option.

"I haven't decided yet," Alex answered honestly. "On the one hand, why not. On the other hand, I need to maintain at least a semblance of impartiality. Maybe it's better to turn to purely Imperial Services. I don't have the best experience with the Security Service, maybe Intelligence? The Major, who investigate the assassination attempt on me, seemed to be a good one... But that's just it..." He waved his hand, turned in his chair, and stared out the narrow window, where the gray hulks of buildings with long, narrow windows were passing by. "You'd better tell me how your vacation was. How did you like Black Lake?"

"I'm not at Black Lake," Taer confessed, and Alex thought she was smiling. "Rima was crying out that it's unacceptable for two young ladies to be languishing in the mountains on their first vacation. So I'm in some seaside villa with an unpronounceable myrlistee name."

"What do you think of the villa?"

"I don't know, I've only been here 24 hours. The droids are still unpacking our suitcases. But it's quiet and deserted. The staff is like an anecdote: "five maids and a housekeeper," the rest is the droids. I panicked them. The first guest in twenty years not from the Office. Emerald sea, beautiful beach..."

Taer was silent, and the pause was heavy. His First Blade was clearly worn by her first vacation.

"What about Rima?" Alex hastened to change the subject; he purposely gave her time off as well. Just so he wouldn't leave Taer all alone.

"She hasn't arrived yet. I have forbidden her. Let her hand things over first. There are more than a dozen constant work shields alone in the tower. So do not indulge her. In addition, she will obviously want to buy more in the capital. She will come as soon as she finishes."

"Well, you have plenty of time just for yourself!" Alex tried to add enthusiasm to her voice to cheer her up. "It's not bad for a change, and it wouldn't hurt to get some sleep."

"Well, yeah..." She grimaced and then added more confidently. "But if anything happens..."

"Then I'll call you out." Alex finished in her place. "If you can help me with that. In the meantime, don't think about anything stupid, and just rest."

His stay at the palace began with formalities. House Melato filed a formal petition that it was "seeking justice" in the Court of Blood Feuds for the death of Baron Assaro. The petition was personally submitted by Lady Aliza, the head of the House of Melato's representation in the capital, a very prim, dark-haired lady of about fifty, all in white for the occasion of mourning. The formal event took place in a place just like it. In the "office of the Ergo-Seneschal of the Empire," a hall with walls of dazzling whiteness, decorated with golden metal vines and ceilings so cyclopean in height that it felt like sitting at the bottom of a giant well.

And I have to work here. Alex thought unhappily, uttering the formal verbal formulas necessary in this case, which he spent a decent part of the day memorizing.

Having received the petition and the formal reason to investigate the baron's death, he had to talk to the protocol service of the palace. A press statement was supposed to be made, and everything had to be coordinated, and only then could Alex finally do what he had come to the palace for - to meet with Lord Lister.

Lord Lister's palace apartment reminded him strikingly of the rooms in which Alex himself had stayed in the palace, the same complex walls like a large oval, the same abundance of alcoves at the edges, the same maids in blue dresses of modest cut. But while Alex got the brown-haired one, Lord Lister had the blonde and the redhead. As soon as Alex entered the guest room, they swirled around him like two caring bees.

"Thank you, thank you. You are dismissed." Lord Lister hurriedly sent them out, giving the comfort makers a suspicious look.

Brenor was dressed in a blue uniform of some courtier, lavishly decorated with intricate gold embroidery on the shoulders and around the collar. And though the uniform fit him perfectly, the nervous yet excited gleam of his eyes and his age made him look like a schoolboy dressed as an "adult" and drunk with excitement, daring, and the fear of being discovered.

"So what's the matter, Brenor? I didn't understand anything from your call..." Alex started but stopped because Lord Lister made frightening eyes, and giving him a sign to be silent, he began to fiddle with the suppressor on the table near the chairs.

"Now we can talk." Berenor sighed contentedly as the yellow light on the device lit up, and a distinctive hum filled the room.

"I really didn't understand anything from your call," Alex repeated, watching Lord Lister's manipulations questioningly. // It's like some kind of conspiracy meeting. The only thing missing is the black cloaks with hoods.

"I couldn't speak directly. The conversation could have been overheard..." For some reason, Brenor whispered, falling completely into the role of a conspirator. "You know a communicator signal is pretty easy to intercept..."

"So what's the matter?" Alex sincerely did not understand the reason for this conspiracy. Apart from one duel, he and Lord Lister had not broken the law. Unless, of course, we forget about our adventures in Tallana...

Lord Lister leaned closer to Alex: "I found out about what happened to Baron Assaro." He whispered. "And I suppose it was no accident at all."

"There's a chance he was killed." Alex nodded, still not understanding what this conversation is about.

Brenor looked at Alex as if he were deciding exactly what to say: "Baron Assaro. He met with me two days ago, as I now understand, just before he died." Lord Lister said with a significant look. "And handed me this..." He unbuttoned the collar of his uniform, carefully removed a small white disk from his inner pocket, and held it out to Alex.

The disk was small, a little larger than an apple in diameter, a little rough to the touch, as if made of ceramic, about a centimeter thick. On one edge of it, at one point, there was a black eyeball supported by a trio of very tiny holes of unclear purpose.

While Alex looked at it, holding the disk in his palm, it purred melodiously and slowly rose into the air. It hovered in place, turning on its axis as if looking around, and then, purring like an affectionate kitten, it returned to the palm of my hand.

"And what is that?" Alex asked curiously, staring at the disk in his palm. "A droid?"

"A messenger droid." Nodded Brenor. "Although calling it a droid is a lot of credit. They're purposely made to be very primitive. All it can do is find someone like the description and play the recording. They are often used here in the palace to convey personal messages. It's considered a slightly more private method than the usual comm."

"So there might be some kind of message from Baron Assaro in this baby?" Alex clarified, looking at the disk with renewed interest.

"Yes. Yes." Lister nodded with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. "I'm sure there's some kind of suicide message denouncing his killers! As a matter of fact, Baron Assaro was visibly nervous when we met. He must have suspected something."

"I didn't know you were close," Alex commented cautiously. "Especially not close enough to leave a suicide note."

There was obviously some kind of politics involved, and he always thought Lord Lister was a man infinitely far removed from any politics - obsessed with duels, the honor of the House, and other strange ideas of the "blades of honors" to which he belonged.

"No, we don't, Alessandro." The brether hurriedly shook his head. "We barely knew each other. We were just introduced to each other, that's all. I was incredibly surprised myself, and in another situation, I wouldn't have messed with... But it doesn't matter."

"Then why did you agree to it?"

"The inner workings of my House." Lord Lister was embarrassed, clearly unwilling to discuss the details. "On which the Melatians have a known influence. I don't think it has anything to do with what happened or the contents of that droid."

Alex raised an eyebrow in disbelief:

"That's up to you, Brenor, but I'm telling you now as a friend. From the outside, it all looks suspicious. A nobleman from another House, in your own words, an almost stranger, hands you some device with unknown content, and you agree to keep it."

"I thought it was some kind of provocation myself at first." He shrugged, putting on a look of indifference. "But the droid, the palace one. If you turn it over, there's a palace security seal on it. And he gave it to me at the palace. So the droid itself is safe, but its contents have nothing to do with me. Of course, it might embarrass me, but it's a small risk..."

"And that is why you agreed to such a strange proposal?" Looking doubtfully at Lord Lister, Alex asked.

"The Baron offered me some information in exchange." Finally, with reluctance, he confessed. "And even this I tell you as a friend, so please don't tell anyone. It is not my secret, Lord Cassard."

"All right." Alex sighed, seeing that Lister couldn't be persuaded, and pointing his eyes at the white disk, asked:

"What do I have to do to get this baby to play the recording?"

"I don't know." Brenor shook his hands. "Usually, they reproduce themselves when they meet the persona embedded in them. As a matter of fact, sometimes they're wrong." He added with a smile. "I've been told a few curiosities related to this. If two people look similar enough, they can easily get mixed up and show a message to the wrong person. And with him, I have already tried everything, and nothing helps. He just looks around, and that's it, not even looking for anyone, must be waiting for something."

"I see..." Alex thoughtfully stretched out, looking at the disk, and was about to slip it into his pocket. "Thanks anyway, this might really help. I think my specialists will be able to get him to talk..."

But was suddenly stopped by Lord Lister.

"I can't give it away." Suddenly he said firmly and added in an apologetic tone. "Yet. I gave my word to Baron Assaro that I would carry it with me for two decades and that I would not tell anyone about it."

"But Lord Lister, you already told me, didn't you?" Without hiding his surprise, Alex asked, holding out the disk back. If this brether had given his word, it was utterly useless to exhort him.

Lord Lister carefully hid the disk back into his inner pocket and clasped the collar and explained:

"The Baron specifically asked me to swear that I would not tell anyone but an official, not of House Melato or Peltar, whose duty would require such knowledge. It seemed a very strange wording to me at the time, but now, after the Baron's death, I see the sense in it. He meant you." Lord Lister's eyes grew more and more full of the enthusiasm of a discoverer in a hurry to share his discovery. "Well, maybe not you personally, Lord Cassard, but he was expecting some kind of investigation and made provision to tell the investigator everything. It's the same with the droid. I can give it up, but only if there is a legitimate imperial demand for it. I suppose, given your position, you won't have any trouble arranging a court order or whatever is required." He added uncertainly, obviously not knowing what kind of formalities were required in such a case.

"Probably," Alex answered just as uncertainly. The story looked more and more strange. "So it turns out that the Baron knew or suspected some threat to his life, but instead of seeking protection from his home or the empire. Left some sort of posthumous message with you?"

"I suppose that's exactly what he feared of his House." Lord Lister reported in a halftone, once again assuming a pithy look. "I was not present, but the second Lord Keeper told me, privately, that His Majesty literally forced House Melato today, over all objections, to file a formal petition in the court of blood feuds, threatening Lady Alise that if she did not, he would do it himself."

This was a new circumstance:

"Did the House of Melato have any reason to object? What do they have to lose?" Alex asked, and then mentally slapped himself: //Of course, they do if they killed him.

"Officially, they wanted to wait until their internal investigation was over. What if it was suicide? Then to make it public and start a fuss over the investigation would be disrespectful to the will of the deceased."

"Sounds really like a reasonable reason to wait." Reluctantly, Alex agreed. "Right now, it doesn't really sound like suicide. But I guess if you want to see it as suicide..." He pondered. "It's entirely possible if you close your eyes to the small details."

"Exactly!" Lord Lister exclaimed triumphantly. "But you're in charge now, and it can't be hushed up. And for the same reason, Baron Assaro has turned to me. I am not of his House, rather hostile if you consider my several duels. No one would think he would ask for my help, much less have any reason to try to help the House of Melato cover it up."

"Is that what you think this is about?" Without hiding his skepticism, Alex asked. "Maybe it's about your position? Forgive me for my memory. You know I'm like a baby in some matters. So your uniform tells me absolutely nothing, but simply by virtue of your title, you were doomed to receive some important assignment..."

"What are you, Lord Cassard?" brushed Brenor off. "Don't judge by yourself. First Lord Keeper of Keys and Seals, now an empty ceremonial position. All I do is stand in the presence of His Majesty and attend certain ceremonies. It's not even all the time. We rotate with the second Lord Keeper every five days."

"Well, a man who sees the Emperor all the time, it's in any case..." Alex started, and then it hit him. That you are always near the Emperor? And this disk, you know, the droid, must play a message to him?"

"Maybe." Brenor shrugged uncertainly. "But I was already near the emperor with him, and the drive didn't react in any way. But the baron was probably still alive then.

"There's no point in guessing." Alex sighed, getting ready to get up again. "I'll concentrate on getting the necessary 'legitimate imperial demand' and we'll find out."

"But that's not all." Lord Lister added hastily, preemptively raising his hand. "I'm not sure, but perhaps someone broke into my rooms last night and was looking for something. Or rather someone did, but for what purpose I don't know. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, but now I think it might have something to do with the Baron's death..."

And seeing the raised eyebrow in mute question, he added:

"Then I thought it was one of the local ladies." Brenor blushed a little. "They're surprisingly persistent here. A few days ago, one of them even broke into my bedroom while I was sleeping, and anyway..." He turned all teary-eyed and looked away, finishing. "I explained to her that my heart is not free."

Looking at Lord Lister's flaming ears, his stated ending was not very believable, but he had no intention of condemning teenage ardor, either:

"So, while you were sleeping, someone broke into your rooms and was looking for something?"

"No. I wasn't there. Lady Amita, I introduced you at the voigrom, had some sort of a party, and I was there, and when I came back, things were out of place."

"What about palace security?"

"I didn't go to them then. It would have been silly..." Brenor muttered, embarrassed again. "And now, two days later, I don't think there's anything to be found. I've already asked my maids. They didn't see anyone that night."

"Maybe the security service has some records?"

"No. No, Lord Cassard, it is forbidden to record anything in the interior of the palace, let alone in the guests' rooms."

If only someone else cared about these bans. Alex sighed, knowing full well that records were being kept, but he didn't mention it out loud, just made a mental note to try to shake them out:

"In any case, if it was those who killed the baron, they can try again."

"Yes, I was thinking the same thing." The excitement glittered in Lord Lister's eyes again. "Great way to catch them!"

"You need to move to a safer place..." Alex had already begun, but he thought about Lister's suggestion. It made sense. "An excellent idea, Lord Lister." After a second's thought, he seconded him. "And nothing prevents you from combining it with my suggestion. Move you somewhere safer, and place some sort of ambush here. Probably have to negotiate with palace security..." Alex added, pondering the possible difficulties. "But I think everything can be solved here. After all, His Majesty seemed very interested in the outcome of the investigation."

"No," Brenor argued persuasively. "We must keep everything secret and do it ourselves. I've already thought of that; either one of the palace servants or one of the guests could have broken in, and either way, it wouldn't be hard for them to know that I'd moved in and there were other people in my rooms. And then, what if I was wrong and it was a girl, and we ambushed her... That would be terrible." He added, blushing again.

"It's too dangerous." Trying to exhort Alex, / /If not to say stupid.

But Lord Lister was stubborn. He clearly had a heroic stroke in one place, and he wanted to catch the villain personally, whoever he was. As Alex was able to see with his own eyes, Lister used the local sword very skillfully, and despite his age, he was a very experienced and dangerous duelist...

Taer says he's almost the best in the whole Sector, with a hundred successful duels to his credit. Alex remembered. But this isn't a duel. They could always just shoot him with a blaster.

Brenor also shot very decently:

But how would it help him if they shot him in the back?

The more Alex thought about his idea of personally catching murderers, the more it seemed to him like a load of nonsense: // But how to change his mind?"

Lord Lister could be more stubborn than any sheep, especially if he got something into his head.

"Please, just don't take any unnecessary risks," Alex asked goodbye, getting ready to leave. First of all, he had to be quick about getting a "legitimate claim," and secondly, he was already on his third day of stimulants. The feeling of hunger was brutal, and he did not want to make a public session of wild gluttony.

After saying goodbye to Brenor, he also stopped by the palace security to ask them to keep a particularly close eye on Lord Lister's chambers. He did not tell them directly what the matter was. Lister forced him to give his word not to reveal what he had told them. But this visit was for nothing, at least, it was Alex's impression. He did not manage to get a meeting with his superiors, and some ordinary Sain-Lieutenant, in response to his request, apparently issued a standard billet that the entire guest area is guarded with special care.

It's safer to sleep in a shooting gallery than in a palace, thought Alex unhappily, sinking into his bot's chair.

After settling and signaling to the pilots, he called his secretary droid by comms while opening a container of food prepared by the prudent Liora:

"Were there any other disasters?" He asked with his mouth full, thinking: The princess has really got the composure of steel if she just ate fast on the fifth day. It's only my third day on this shit, and I'm ready to gorge like a pig.

"No, Your Lordship." The droid's raspy voice rattled. "As usual, one hundred and twenty-four different invitations to your name have been received so far, and I have responded to them according to your instructions."

"That's right, there's no time for them," Alex muttered, only now noticing a note on the lid of the food container.

On a small piece of plastic it read, in impeccable handwriting, If your lordship plans to continue taking stimulants instead of sleep, you should consider taking weight-loss drugs. The feeling of hunger that stimulants induce is purely psychological.

And below: Your maid Liora. And a signature. Liora's signature was fancy and beautiful, too.

"Ouch." Silently Alex hiccupped, remembering everything he'd eaten in the last few days. Four kilos, that's at least.

"Forgive me my limitations, Your Lordship, but I don't know what you mean," rattled the droid, who was still on the line.

"I'm not talking to you," Alex replied sadly, sighing as he pushed the container of food away from him. Liora filled it with all the good stuff. "You'd better get in touch with Sir Olter, or better yet, write to him for me. Write that I need his help. I need to work out some legal basis that would allow me to formally take an object, possibly evidence, from another nobleman. Specify that from another house." He remembered a little later. "It might be important. And a similar letter to my office in the court of blood grudges. They must have their lawyers or something."

"Shall I submit prepared versions of the letter for your approval?" The secretary asked politely.

"I guess so," Alex replied and immediately regretted it as his tablet beeped to indicate that the transmission had begun. // Well, yeah, I forgot who I was talking to. It's a droid.

As a result, he spent the remaining ten minutes in the tower wading through the teeth-grinding combination of clerical and florid forms of politeness that made up the bulk of both letters. At least it distracted him from his hunger.

Upon arriving at the tower, Alex was incredibly relieved to tell the officer on duty who had planned his movements that he wasn't going anywhere else, and he thanked the escort guys. Some of them had had to spend a dozen hours in the armor today, if not more.

During dinner, he restrained himself as best he could. A quick consultation with the medic on the escort team confirmed Liora's warning. The hunger was indeed purely psychological. He had even been promised to pick up something safe that would prevent the rapid bloating of his waistline, but not until tomorrow.

He was called by Sir Ulter on the secure line. And then he had to dive back into the maze of legal intricacies. As it turned out quickly to take anything from a titled nobleman on a legal basis - very, very difficult. The more Alex immersed himself in the question, the more it seemed to him that personally without His Majesty and his extraordinary powers, there was no way out. The procedure was too complicated and, most importantly, long. And no one, especially Alex, did not want to disturb the Emperor unnecessarily because of trifles.

He stayed up late into the night, at least according to his watch. It was a long, faded morning outside the window, the calendar time once again out of sync with the astronomical time, until he was distracted by the quiet ringing of his tablet. It was a text message from Rima:

Your Lordship, will you let Taer go back? Or should I go back as well?

Taer's squire, the master operator of the field, RimaTalariv, was one of the few people in his rapidly expanding "Arm" who addressed him directly, but this message of hers utterly stumped him.

"Rome, I didn't understand your message," Alex called back, quickly saying goodbye to Olter. They, together with the lawyer from the representation office, had been talking for five hours and they were all obviously tired.

"I just didn't want to bother you by calling, but Taer's comm didn't answer." Rima apologized, and she did it very nicely. "I just wanted to know when she'd be back and if there was any point in waiting for her."

"I still don't understand you, Rima," Alex admitted with a smile, to whom it was obvious that there was clearly some misunderstanding. "Taer is supposed to be at this coastal villa, and you came to Black Lake?"

"No, Your Lordship, I'm at Villa Amilassa." She protested. "I arrived about an hour ago."

"And Taer isn't there?" Clarified Alex, who was starting to get a little nervous.

"No, Your Lordship, but her flyer and her things are still there," so I thought it was you who summoned her urgently by sending a bot to fetch her..." Rima's voice was very quiet at the end.

"I didn't call her," Alex answered just as quietly. "What about the servants?" He asked hopefully.

"They haven't seen her since she arrived, and she asked not to be disturbed. And the droid that was assigned to her says that the hostess said she had business and left. Without any details. That's why I thought it was you who summoned her..."

"I didn't summon her," Alex repeated and took a deep breath to calm his emotions: I hope she doesn't do anything to herself in her condition.

"Where is she?" Rima's voice sounded worried, too.

"We'll find her now," Alex assured her, trying to hide his nervousness. "Stay where you are. I'll get back to you soon."

Alex immediately tried to contact Taer. As Rima had said, her com did not answer, and all three numbers: general, personal, and a special number of internal communication of his entire security system.

He tried to call her for a few minutes, and then realizing that he was just wasting time, he called the second person in his Arm:

"Are you awake?" He asked instead of a greeting.

"Not anymore," Dudo muttered muffled. "Did something happen?"

"Do you know what it takes to find a man quickly?" Alex answered a question with a question.

"Yes."

"Then gather everything you need, a reinforced security team, and let's fly out. Taer is missing."

* * *