V
Julian would never forget the day of his first formal audience with Kaiser Reinhard von Lohengramm. It was the afternoon of June 20, but with the season running slightly behind the calendar. The sky was somewhat cloudy, and the air was chilly. Julian wore the full dress uniform of a sublieutenant in the Free Planets Alliance Navy. This was partly because he was sure that the kaiser would be in uniform too, and partly because Yang Wen-li had been in uniform for his meeting with the kaiser as well.
Reinhard received Julian in the hotel’s inner garden. Emil von Selle guided Julian to the shade of an elm tree, where Reinhard sat at a round white table. Carefully regulating his breathing and heartbeat, Julian offered a salute. Reinhard did not stand, instead indicating that Julian should sit too. Julian doffed his black beret, bowed, and lowered himself onto the chair offered him.
“I am informed that you are nineteen years old,” Reinhard said.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I am.”
“When I was nineteen, I was a full admiral of the Goldenbaum Dynasty. My surname was not yet von Lohengramm, and I thought I could do anything. With my closest friend beside me, I even thought I might conquer the entire galaxy.”
“Your Majesty has done exactly that.”
Reinhard nodded, but was not, perhaps, conscious of doing so. On the contrary, the nod seemed to pull him back to reality.
He changed the subject. “At our first encounter, you made extravagant claims. You said you had medicine for the Lohengramm Dynasty. This is your opportunity to make good on those words.”
“No, Your Majesty, at our first encounter I only saw you and sighed.”
Seeing the doubt in Reinhard’s face, Julian explained. Two years ago, he had seen the kaiser passing by in a landcar on Phezzan. Reinhard could not have been expected to remember this “encounter,” of course, so it had meaning only for Julian.
Emil placed two cups of coffee on the table, and its fragrance rose up and drifted between them like summer haze.
“And what medicine do you propose to treat the Galactic Empire with, to preserve it from mortal illness?”
This was the question Julian had come to answer. A nervous chill swept through his consciousness, but it was not an entirely unpleasant situation.
“First, Your Majesty, you must promulgate a constitution. Next, you must open a parliament. These two things will shape the vessel of constitutional governance.”
“A vessel, once formed, must then be filled. What wine do you propose to pour into this one?”
“Wine must be aged to come into its own. It will take some time before the right talent emerges to govern most effectively.”
Realizing that this was time the kaiser did not have, Julian closed his mouth. Reinhard raised his eyebrows slightly, then flicked the delicate porcelain of his coffee cup with one finger.
“I think your true aim is somewhat different. I think you wish to pour the wine of constitutional governance into the existing vessel of the Galactic Empire. This might indeed allow those ideas of democracy you prize to take control of the empire from within.”
For a moment, Julian was unable to reply. Reinhard chuckled. But what began as a pointed, even caustic laugh seemed to change partway through. Reinhard, it seemed, was intrigued by Julian’s political tactics, which combined strength and toughness with a high degree of elasticity.
“I will return to Phezzan soon,” Reinhard said. “Several people await me there. Enough to justify one final journey.”
Again Julian had no reply. The kaiser had looked death square in the face and dismissed it as a matter of no importance. Julian knew only one other person who had been so free with respect to death. And that person had died a year ago.
“You will accompany me there,” Reinhard said.
“If Your Majesty so wishes.”
“That would be best, I think. Your designs and your insight were better shared with the next ruler of the empire than me alone. The kaiserin is far more insightful as a politician. The specifics of your proposal should be discussed with her.”
Later, it would occur to Julian that this was the closest Reinhard had come to the kind of fond boasting that characterized a besotted husband.
The kaiser’s fatigue was already visible, and the meeting ended after around thirty minutes. Julian left without the satisfaction of feeling that he had achieved his goals.
As he left the provisional headquarters, Julian turned back to gaze up at the Goldenlöwe hanging above the main entrance. It was the flag of the great conqueror who had subjugated all the galaxy. But, to Julian, the fierce golden lion on its crimson field seemed to hang its head.
As if to grieve the death of its master.
✦ ✦ ✦
A conversation between Dusty Attenborough and Olivier Poplin unfolded that evening.
“It’s going to be one thing after another, right to the end. No chance of a silent final curtain.”
“That sounds more like a wish than a prediction.”
“In any case, I’m going to Phezzan with Julian. I’ve come this far, and I want to see the final act.”
“What about your military duties?”
“I’ll leave them to Soon Soul. He doesn’t have my creative genius, but he’s 1.6 times more responsible. I’ll have Lao help him. How about you, Ace? Will you stay on Heinessen?”
“Absolutely not. Even when I was a boy, I hated being left behind while the adults went out on business.”
Poplin pointedly poked the bandage around his head with a fingertip. Seeing the vital gleam in his green eyes, Attenborough broke into a smile.
“I hear that old man Murai’s about to relax into a comfortable retirement, but I don’t see that in our future just yet. Let’s stick with Julian until the curtain falls and we can confirm that ticket sales have put the theater in the black.”
At almost that moment, Julian was saying farewell to Bernard von Schneider, Merkatz’s loyal aide. Von Schneider had decided to remain on Heinessen, first to heal his wounds, then to discuss what might be done for the handful of Merkatz’s fellow imperial defectors that still survived. After that, he would see to it that these measures were taken, and finally, when the time was right, return to the empire himself.
“You’ll visit Admiral Merkatz’s family, I take it?”
“Exactly. The admiral’s journey has ended. Once I inform his family, mine will end too.”
Von Schneider offered Julian his hand. “Let’s meet again sometime,” he said as they shook firmly. Parting alive meant that another meeting should be possible. Julian wished from the bottom of his heart for a fruitful end to von Schneider’s journey.
By June 27, Kaiser Reinhard’s flagship Brünhild had been completely restored to its original state. The kaiser boarded his craft and set out for the imperial capital of Phezzan. It would be his final interstellar voyage.