claimant was a potential disaster.
A blunt pragmatist, uncultured and unashamed of it, shrewd rather than
intelligent, he either appalled Manuel Argos or won a grudging approval,
in whatever hypothetical hell or Valhalla the Founder dwelt. The
question was academic. His hour was now. How long that hour would be,
and what the consequences, were separate puzzles.
Mirth left. He leaned forward. The pipe smoldered between hairy hands
clenched upon his knees. “I talk too much,” he said, a curious admission
from the curtest of the Emperors. Flandry understood, though. Few
besides him were left, maybe none, with whom Hans dared talk freely.
“Let us come to business. What do you know about Dennitza?”
Inwardly taken aback, Flandry replied soft-voiced, “Not much, sir. Not
much about the whole Taurian Sector, in spite of having had the good
luck to be there when Lady Megan needed help. Why ask me?”
Hans scowled. “I suppose you do know how the Gospodar, my sector
governor, is resisting my defense reorganization. Could be a simple
difference of judgment, yes. But … now information suggests he plans
rebellion. And that–where he is–will involve the Merseians, unless he
is already theirs.”
Flandry’s backbone tingled. “What are the facts, sir?”
“A wretched planet in Sector Arcturus. Diomedes, it’s called. Natives
who want to break away and babble of getting Ythrian help. Human agents
among them. We would expect such humans would be from the Domain,
likeliest Avalon–not true? But our best findings say the Ythrians hold
no wish to make trouble for us. And our people discover those humans are
Dennitzan. Only one was captured alive, and they had some problems with
the hypnoprobing, but it does appear she went to Diomedes under secret
official orders.”
Hans sighed. “Not till yesterday did this reach me through the damned
channels. It never would have before I left, did I not issue strictest
orders about getting a direct look at whatever might possibly point to
treason. And–Gott in Himmel, I am swamped, on top of all else! My
computer screens out lese-majeste cases and the rest of such piddle.
Nevertheless–”
Flandry nodded. “Aye, sir. You can’t give any single item more than a
glance. And even if you could pay full attention, you can’t send the big
clumsy Imperial machine barging into Tauria, disrupting our whole
arrangement there, on the basis of a few accusations. Especially in your
absence.”
“Yes. I must go. If we don’t reorder Sector Spica, the barbarians will
soon ruin it. But meanwhile Tauria may explode. You see how an uprising
in Sector Arcturus would be the right distraction for a traitor
Dennitzan before he rebels too.”
“Won’t Intelligence mount a larger operation?”
“Ja, Ja, Ja. Though the Corps is still in poor shape, after wars and
weedings. Also, it has much other business. And … Dominic, just the
Corps by itself is too huge for me to know, for me to control as I
should. I need–I am not sure what I need or if it can be had.”
Flandry foreknew: “You want me to take a hand, sir?”
“Yes.” The wild boar eyes were sighted straight on him. “In your olden
style. A roving commission, and you report directly to me.
Plenipotentiary authority.”
Flandry’s pulse broke into a canter. He kept his tone level. “Quite a
solo, sir.”
“Co-opt. Hire. Bribe. Threaten. Whatever you see fit.”
“The odds will stay long against my finding out anything useful–at
least, anything the Corps can’t, quicker and better.”
“You are not good at modesty,” Hans said. “Are you unwilling?”
“N-n-no, sir.” Surprised, Flandry realized he spoke truth. This could
prove interesting. In fact, he knew damn well it would, for he had
already involved himself in the affair. His motivation was half
curiosity, half kindliness–he thought at the time–though probably,
down underneath, the carnivore which had been asleep in him these past
three years had roused, pricked up its ears, snuffed game scent on a
night breeze. Was that always my real desire? Not to chase down enemies
of the Empire so I could go on having fun in it, but to have fun chasing
them down?
No matter. The blood surged. “I’m happy to accept, sir, provided you