IV
Kaiser Reinhard was en route to Heinessen, accompanied by Marshal Mittermeier and Senior Admirals Mecklinger and von Eisenach.
He led a fleet of 35,700 ships. Mittermeier commanded the vanguard, von Eisenach the rear, and the kaiser directed the fleet as a whole from the center. His chief advisor Mecklinger was aboard the fleet flagship Brünhild with him, and—on a new recommendation from the navy’s chief surgeon—had made sure to bring six military doctors aboard in case the kaiser should need them. Reinhard made no secret of his displeasure at being viewed as an invalid, but when informed that both Hilda and Annerose had requested this medical entourage, he had no way to refuse. Of course, no matter how many doctors were present, they could hardly examine him by force if Reinhard rejected their ministrations.
It was April 17 when word reached Reinhard of the “Day of Blood and Flame” on Heinessen the previous day. He was incensed to a degree that those around him had not seen in some time. No matter how elegant and calm they may seem while dormant, volcanoes ultimately erupt.
“What were you thinking, von Oberstein? Did you think it would suffice to throw the republicans behind high walls and lock the gate? Setting aside the virtues of hostage-taking itself, hostages are only useful if they are kept alive!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Von Oberstein’s reply was a simple, stark admission of his failure. He bowed to the kaiser on the low-resolution FTL screen. Reinhard suspected that his expression would have been unreadable even at a much higher resolution.
Ending the unpleasant call as quickly as he could, Reinhard sank into silent contemplation.
Fighting to unify the galaxy, whether against the Coalition of Lords or the Free Planets Alliance, had been thrilling. But fighting now that that unification was complete took a mysterious toll on him both physically and mentally. Now, particularly since he had lost his matchless foe Yang Wen-li, Reinhard’s psychology was gripped by an inexpressible desolation that, in the end, he was unable to banish.
It seemed that Reinhard’s energies—particularly his psychological energies—were a burden partly borne by his enemies. As Yang Wen-li had once observed, Reinhard’s vital force was a flame that had burned down the Goldenbaum Dynasty, reduced the Free Planets Alliance to cinders, and was now consuming Reinhard himself.
After a time, Reinhard retired to his bedchamber, accepting the reverential salutes of his staff officers as he left the bridge.
Mecklinger, the Artist-Admiral, wrote thusly:
Had the kaiser’s infirmity been visible to the eye, we would surely have noticed it. But his beauty and his vitality were not diminished in the slightest, at least not on the surface. Because he had on many previous occasions taken to bed with fever, it seems we had at some point grown accustomed to the kaiser’s bouts of illness, compared to the days of the former dynasty. Furthermore, even in the grip of fever, his clarity never appeared to flag.
In later years, however, when he examined his recollections more closely, Mecklinger would realize that his memories of the kaiser in poor health became more frequent as time wore on.
The key figures from imperial headquarters aboard Brünhild with Reinhard and Mecklinger were Vice Admiral von Streit, Commodore Kissling, and Lieutenant Commander von Rücke. All of them, as well as Reinhard’s attendant Emil von Selle, viewed the kaiser’s health with concerned eyes. Von Streit made an observation not unlike Yang Wen-li’s, if somewhat less poetic:
“His Majesty’s drive is like stomach acid. When it has nothing to act on, it begins to dissolve the walls of the stomach instead. I cannot help feeling that this has been the case for His Majesty since the middle of last year.”
Von Streit’s interlocutor on this occasion was von Rücke, who was the same age as the kaiser. He did not, of course, repeat von Streit’s words to anyone, but he did make a daily habit of asking Emil about Reinhard’s appetite.
Meanwhile, on Heinessen, preparations were underway for the kaiser’s arrival.
“Before His Majesty makes landfall, we will clean house,” said von Oberstein to Rear Admiral Guzman, who was acting chief secretary while Ferner recovered. As a military official directly subordinate to von Oberstein, he was by no means incompetent, but his dealings with the minister had a more passive nature than Ferner’s. In other words, he was nothing more than a precision machine for carrying out von Oberstein’s orders unquestioningly, with little ability to make his own judgments or think critically. To von Oberstein, this was sufficient; it was Ferner who was unique.
On April 29, von Oberstein’s “housecleaning” began in a manner that shocked everyone. The ministerial decree was the picture of simplicity:
The Imperial Navy has today arrested and jailed the fugitive former landesherr of Phezzan, political criminal Adrian Rubinsky. This individual will be transferred back to the imperial capital on Phezzan for trial and, most likely, execution.
No other details were offered, so the empire’s military leadership was just as surprised as the residents of Heinessenpolis. Wahlen asked von Oberstein how he had found Rubinsky’s hiding place, but Guzman, on behalf of the minister, politely declined to reply.
Müller finally got his answer from Ferner, who was still in the hospital. Von Oberstein had been searching for Rubinsky since Operation Ragnarok, and had finally located him this year through rather unorthodox methods. Specifically, the minister had checked the patient records of medical institutions throughout the galaxy for names that did not exist. After a volume of work that Müller shuddered even to imagine, Rubinsky’s whereabouts had finally come to light.
“It seems that Rubinsky has a malignant brain tumor, giving him a year to live at most,” Ferner explained from his hospital bed. “Perhaps he was in too much of a hurry to cover his tracks.”
So Ferner opined from his sickbed.