Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [122]
The Hansa had carefully staged Bartholomew's death, issuing a statement from his personal court physician that he had "died peacefully in his sleep." Then the previous King had received a new face, a new identity, and had gone off to live on Relleker in comfortable, blissful obscurity for the next two decades or so. Yes, he had given up the Whisper Palace and the throne, but he had gained much more.
Basil sat back and looked up at the old leader. "Don't worry, Frederick, we'll take care of everything when you retire."
"That's what you promised me, Basil. I trust you."
The Chairman chuckled. "Not many people say that to me anymore, Frederick. I appreciate it."
The King poured a second glass of sherry, pretending not to notice Basil's disapproving look. Over the years, his self-doubts had begun to eat at him as he watched the Hansa's devious manipulations. He did not question Basil's orders, and he cooperated with whatever the Hansa asked him to do. It was out of his hands.
Did even a Great King truly deserve all this adulation? The population of the human-settled worlds treated him like a god. And he, the man who had been forced to take the fictitious name of Frederick, had been chosen only because he possessed a particular body type, a natural charisma, the perfect timbre of voice—and a certain level of malleability.
It was all an accident, though. If he hadn't been caught on an observation camera and, entirely without his knowledge, passed a rigorous screening process, he would have lived an uneventful life. He might have had a family of his own, sons and daughters he could claim. He wouldn't have minded living in a small house, as long as he was left alone, even if it meant he made absolutely no mark on the universe, the world—or even the block of buildings around which he lived. Was that so important?
"Do whatever you think is best, Basil," he said, "but please take care of it soon."
He both envied and pitied whoever was going to be his successor.
56 RAYMOND AGUERRA
The Whisper Palace held hundreds—thousands?—of rooms, passageways, and chambers. With vast portions sealed and off-limits, the public had no inkling of how little they were permitted to see.
After he settled into his strange and remarkable new situation, Raymond had certainly never guessed there could be so much to discover, though Basil Wenceslas and the compy Teacher OX kept him under tight restraint. Every time he went exploring, he was awed and astonished by the opulence, by the conveniences and luxuries he was invited to use every single day. Just when he began to feel he could not be impressed again, he encountered something more fantastic. He could barely keep up with it all.
Raymond wished his mother and brothers could be here to see this.
Wearing a glimmer swimsuit, he bounced and slid through a water tube that crossed the ceiling and spilled him out into the heated seawater pool below. He splashed heavily when he landed, an imperfect dive, but he knew enough to clamp his mouth shut. When he had first begun learning to swim, he'd found himself coughing and choking, much to his embarrassment. But over the past several weeks, despite all the other educational activities required of him, Raymond had delighted in swimming the most.
A few times, when he was younger, he and his brothers had splashed around in a public pool. Though he had loved the activity with Michael, Rory, and Carlos, Raymond never gained any real confidence in the water. Now, with the Palace's sea bath heated to a perfect temperature, and enough guardians and watchers to rescue him in nanoseconds if he ever found himself in trouble, Raymond let himself relax and play.
He dove under the water, swimming as far as he could, eyes open—his newly tinted greenish blue eyes—to see the artificial convolutions in the bottom of the pool. He wondered how often Old King Frederick used this spa. The