“Um,” Kiem said. “Sorry, I’m not up to speed here.”
General Fenrik snorted. “Go in.” He turned away, his back military-straight. As he turned, Kiem caught sight of his wooden Imperial insignia, and was suddenly reminded of the same insignia on Aren’s uniform. Taam had had a circle of young officer friends, part of the backbone of the army. They had known Jainan. Why had nobody reported anything? What was wrong with the army this man ran?
“General,” Kiem said.
General Fenrik stopped and looked back, impatient and forbidding. “What?”
Kiem stared at him. There was nothing he could say, he realized, unless he was planning to tell Fenrik everything. “No,” he said. “Never mind.” In the face of Fenrik’s renewed frown, he turned and pressed his hand to the entrance panel to start his bios checks.
His eyes took a moment to adjust to the holos covering the comms room. The Emperor had apparently projected her entire inner study. Kiem had never seen her in these surroundings; whenever she talked to him, it was a stiff, formal occasion in her receiving rooms where he sat on an uncomfortable gilded chair to be grilled on his latest unsanctioned interview. But this room was different; this was the Emperor’s working room. It was severely plain, no gold at all, with unadorned walls that probably disguised some serious soundproofing back on Iskat. As Kiem crossed the threshold, his wristband went dark. A holo table overlapped awkwardly with the real one on the station, covered with neat squares of projected files. The chairs pulled up to the table weren’t even vidchairs, so the whole room must be bristling with sensors. Three projections sat around the table: the Emperor, an aide, and Chief Agent Rakal.
“There you are, Kiem,” the Emperor said, cutting across something Rakal was saying. Rakal fell silent immediately. “Where have you been? Sit down.”
Kiem bowed, muttered an apology, and pulled out a chair that he hoped was real. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been: the Emperor had once kept him standing outside for three hours after he’d been late to an appointment. But it wasn’t reassuring either. He sat on the edge of his seat, tense, and looked between them for clues. “May I ask why I was summoned, Your Majesty?”
“I summoned you a good while ago,” the Emperor said, her tone crisp. “General Fenrik tells me the army has apprehended your Thean partner on suspicion of doing away with Taam.”
Kiem looked at her blankly. The words lined up, but they didn’t make any sense. “I don’t understand.”
“And attempting to do away with you, apparently.” The Emperor was always brusque; now there was a note of arch impatience. “Did you notice?”
“Your Majesty,” Rakal murmured, in what sounded like a protest.
“Do—what? No! Nothing like that happened! Where the hell has this come from?” Shock poured over Kiem in waves. “You’ve arrested Jainan?”
“The armed forces have arrested him,” the Emperor said. “How many times do you need it repeated? Compose yourself,” she added sharply, as Kiem half rose from his chair.
Kiem dropped back into his seat, realizing he didn’t have the information he needed. “Where have you taken Jainan?”
Rakal gave a discreet cough. The table was almost too high for them; they rested their hands on the edge of it as they leaned forward. “We have not taken him anywhere, Your Highness,” they said. “The military is not the civil authority.”
Everything in Kiem’s head was protesting, but this rang a faint bell. “That’s why General Fenrik was here?” he said. “The military has got him?” He appealed directly to the Emperor. “Ma’am, you’re still the Emperor. You can order him to let Jainan go.”
It was Rakal who answered again. “Do you recall Count Jainan’s behavior around the time of your flyer crash? I believe it was only a few days ago.”
It took Kiem a moment to form words out of his shocked and furious bafflement. “Jainan was in the flybug!”
Neither the Emperor nor Rakal responded. Kiem had the feeling he wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t know. There was a moment’s silence, and in it Rakal looked at the Emperor. “You see, ma’am,” they murmured. “If Count Jainan felt that much animosity toward him, Prince Kiem should have noticed something.”
“So noted,” the Emperor said, “but not conclusive. I need something for the Resolution, even aside from these wretched remnants.”
“Conclusive of what?” Kiem said. “None of this is true! Jainan killing Taam? Trying to kill me? This is—this is bullshit!”
“Kiem, if you comport yourself like an adult who has been called in for a briefing, you will receive the briefing I summoned you for,” the Emperor said irritably. “If you insist on acting like a child in a tantrum, then you may leave.”
Kiem’s mouth shaped itself around a response, but he knew she was fully capable of throwing him out. Getting himself cut out here wouldn’t help. Jainan would have been able to control himself. He shut his mouth and put his hands on his knees. “Of course, ma’am. I would very much like to know what’s going on.”
The Emperor spared him a fraction of a nod. “This investigation has been dragged out for far too long. I have been given a complete array of half-baked theories, from ‘accident’ to ‘anarchist’ to ‘insider at the flybug manufacturer.’” Here she gave Rakal a censorious look. They winced. “However, Internal Security finally seems to have narrowed it down to either an academic with a grudge—dishonorably discharged, I understand—or your partner Jainan. General Fenrik tells me his investigators have proved it was Jainan from biological traces in the workings of your flybug—”
“Which could have been planted,” Kiem said, controlling his voice with a supreme effort. “Ma’am.”
“I have seen the case the Kingfisher investigation team put together,” the Emperor said. “It is … not unconvincing.”
“Where is he?” Kiem said. “If Internal Security doesn’t have him, then where has Fenrik taken him?”
“A secure site,” the Emperor said brusquely. “I fail to see why you need to know more than that. Rakal here has been petitioning me to transfer Jainan and his case to civil authority. General Fenrik is convinced it will come under a military tribunal, as the murder victim was a serving officer.”
“I reiterate my opinion, ma’am,” Rakal said. “This is not legitimately a military matter.”
“Would Internal Security be any better?” Kiem said, roused. “You didn’t even realize the security clearance flag came from—” He bit his tongue, suddenly realizing that wouldn’t help at all.
“Prince Taam,” Rakal said, measured. “Yes, my people found out who it originated with. There may have been more bad blood between Prince Taam and Count Jainan than we realized.”
Bad blood. Kiem had a crushing view of how much the rest of the story would bolster the case against Jainan if it came out. “Jainan wouldn’t kill anyone,” he said. Somehow stating it baldly like that didn’t seem to have the effect he wanted. “He’s innocent. He could at least come home, couldn’t he?” His mind filled with hiring lawyers, finding evidence, maybe cornering some army officers and shaking them until he found out what was going on.