Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [230]
The Mage-Imperator picked up some of the densely written documents at hand: carefully censored stanzas from the Saga of Seven Suns. These stanzas, lines of grim poetry unfamiliar even to the greatest rememberers, were a hidden piece of history, deemed by a former Mage-Imperator to be too horrendous for the Ildiran people to hear.
When the rediscovery of these events had brought Rememberer Dio'sh to him, the Mage-Imperator had been forced to kill the young historian to keep that information hidden, especially in these dire times. He had easily covered up the young rememberer's disappearance by saying that Dio'sh had been sent to a distant splinter colony. No Ildiran would doubt the word of the Mage-Imperator.
Now, he reread line after line of the records from so long ago to refresh his memory of the hydrogues. The ancient enemy.
From his perspective of nine decades of rule, the Mage-Imperator understood far more than the frenetic humans did. He realized just how incredible this war would be—a conflict that could shatter the cosmos. If only Jora'h could understand as well.
He wished his eldest son grasped the consequences and interconnections involved in long-term planning, but the Prime Designate remained too naive and optimistic. Not yet prepared to lead an empire. Jora'h's hands were far too clean—for the moment.
In the forgotten stanzas, the Mage-Imperator searched for a way to turn the situation to Ildira's advantage. At the very least, this new and escalating war against the hydrogues promised to take up a million lines in the ever-growing Saga of Seven Suns. And, if the struggle could be managed correctly, the Mage-Imperator might bring back a new golden age for his waning empire.
His only hope was to make some form of alliance with the alien enemy. He would have to make the necessary sacrifices, as would many others. But even the simplest negotiations with the hydrogues would be impossible unless the extended Dobro experiments finally came to fruition. The Mage-Imperator could think of only one way to communicate directly with these deep-core creatures, on their own terms.
The overall plan might take as long as a decade or two. The Mage-Imperator must do it correctly. If he succeeded, the hydrogues would listen to him. But, oh, the death and mayhem his people would endure in the meantime!
Bron'n entered the chamber, interrupting the Mage-Imperator's thoughts, and bowed his bestial head. "Liege, the Dobro Designate has arrived, according to your summons."
"Good. Remain close, Bron'n. I have an important task for you, as well." As the Mage-Imperator set aside his secret documents, his long braid began to jerk and thrash with agitation. "We all have much work to do."
106 BASIL WENCESLAS
The Throne Hall of the Whisper Palace was a wreck. Walls had fallen down, windows shattered, support beams collapsed in the hydrogue explosion. At least there hadn't been a fire.
Basil Wenceslas stood speechless amidst the destruction, jaw clenched tight, lips pressed together, though his hands trembled with the sheer buildup of rage and shock.
Surrounded by grim-faced royal guards, Basil inspected the areas where engineers had shored up the support walls and verified the safety of that portion of the Palace. After the attack, the Throne Hall was declared completely off-limits until Basil returned from Ildira. No one else had been allowed to see the destruction—nor would they.
Basil turned to Franz Pellidor, who had remained silent and unobtrusive while the Chairman made decisions and chose his priorities. "Give me an assessment, Mr. Pellidor. You've been watching the public reaction for the past several days. Have you controlled the media coverage?"
The blond man seemed surprised. "How could we control the coverage, Mr. Chairman? From start to finish, the meeting with the hydrogue emissary was a matter of