Star of Gypsies
- Автор: Силверберг Роберт
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Star of Gypsies». Краткое содержание книги:
Be that as it may. The Capital is the great Gaje place, and I am a mere shabby Gypsy, who knows nothing of true splendor. Maybe some day I will come to understand the Capital better than I do now. But that is not important to me, understanding the Capital.
For all its grandeur the imperial center had an uneasy, makeshift look about it when I arrived. It was like a city just recovering from a war-or preparing for one. The green and red sky-banners that paid homage to the Fifteenth had all been turned off. Only a handful of new ones in the colors of the Sixteenth had been put up thus far, and so the sky looked strangely empty. In the outer ring of the city, where scores of dazzling light-spikes normally glowed in honor of visiting lords from other worlds, everything was dark. I had never seen it like that before.
That darkness puzzled me. Weren't there any other visiting lords here? If there were, didn't they object to the absence of their spikes? Perhaps all the imperial vassals were keeping clear of the Capital until they were absolutely certain that Periandros was the emperor they were vassal to. Well, even so, I was an imperial vassal, and I was here. Where was my light-spike? I missed it. Maybe I was the only one here. Maybe Periandros had told all the others to stay away. Could it be that the Sixteenth, still uncertain of his throne, felt it might seem unduly provocative to be claiming homage from the planetary lords just now? I know that I wouldn't have felt that way. I would be making every show of power and rightful authority that I could, if I were in Periandros' shoes. But-thanks be to Holy God and the Divine Mother and Saint Sara-la-Kali-Periandros was in Periandros' shoes and I was in my own.
"Why is there no spike up for me?" I asked Julien, not long after I was installed in the opulent guest palace at the Plaza of the Three Nebulas that the Imperium maintains for the use of the Rom king when he is visiting the Capital.
"There is a problem with the spikes," said Julien diplomatically. "I imagine there is," I said.
"They consume a great deal of energy. These are difficult and expensive times, mon ami."
"Ah. I forgot. The thrifty Periandros."
"He has ordered a cutback on superfluous expenditures of energy. Temporarily, I'm afraid, there will be no light-spikes. It is only idle show, is it not, mon vieux? These Roman candles blazing away?"
"The emperor has his own sky-banners up, I see."
"Only a very few," Julien said, looking uncomfortable. "He must assert his imperial presence, after all. But you will note that where the Fifteenth had hundreds of banners in the sky, the Sixteenth has scarcely any. A symbolic minimum."
"I have a presence to assert also," I said. "I would like my light-spike, Julien."
"Cher ami-je t'implore-"
"Yes," I said, "my good old light-spike, bright purple, five hundred meters high, telling all the Capital that the Rom baro is in residence awaiting audience with the emperor-"
Julien was miserable and made no attempt to hide it. But he took my meaning. Not that I give a tortoise turd about light-spikes or banners or flags or medals or any such trivialities, ordinarily. But this was a time of testing for everyone. Periandros owed me the courtesy of a spike. Subtly or not so subtly-what did I care?-Julien would have to convey my wishes to his master.
Then Periandros would be compelled to weigh his need for pinching obols and minims against the desire of the venerable Rom king for a little pomp and pageantry. And I would find out just where I really stood in the esteem of the new emperor and how much leverage I might have over him in the difficult times ahead. The sky remained dark the next night. But the night after that, I saw the traditional royal Rom light-spike spear the heavens as soon as the sun went down.
In his hospitality, at least, the new emperor was unstinting-or perhaps Julien had simply arranged things as he felt they ought to be arranged. That was more likely. Periandros would have had a stroke if he had known what Julien was spending to keep me amused while I was awaiting the advisers I had summoned for my meetings with the emperor.
The immense and splendiferous Rom palace was in immaculate order and I had platoons of servants-robots, androids, human slaves, doppelgangers of slaves-a staff so huge it was ridiculous. The finest foods and wines were available at any hour of the day and night. Musicians, dancers, minstrels, likewise. And other services. It was embarrassing. Who needed these crowds, this hoopla? Especially in light of the sort of hospitality my own son had been providing for me. Not that I wanted the crawling things and meals of mush back, mind you; but this went too far in the opposite direction. I think you know that it is not the Rom way, all this luxury. It is the Gaje idea of the Rom way, perhaps: or perhaps the Gaje are so guilty about the way they have treated us over the millennia that they feel they must make amends in this overblown fashion when the Rom baro comes to town.
Day by day my people arrived at the Capital, bearing news of the horrendous chaos that had spread through the worlds during the time of my imprisonment, and-may all the gods and demons be praised!- the wonderful restoration of order that had been effected since the collapse of Shandor's insurgency. The Gaje lords might be squabbling but at least we Rom had the spacelanes open again and the ships running on time.
Polarca came first, then Biznaga, then Jacinto and Ammagante, and the phuri dai. Followed soon after by Damiano and Thivt. But not Valerian. I hadn't sent for him, and not for his ghost either. It would have been unwise, and in very poor taste besides, to invite a proscribed enemy of the Imperium like Valerian to come to the Capital. Testing Periandros was one thing, thumbing my nose in his face something else entirely.
I had to do without Chorian, also. I had grown very fond of the young Fenixi-let me not be too coy here; I had come to love him as I would a son-and it was my plan to move him into positions of ever greater responsibility in the government. We were all antiques; I needed someone born in this century to help keep me in touch with realities. But although Chorian was among those I called to my side at the Capital, he didn't show up. I asked Julien about him.
"He will not be coming," Julien said.
"What's the problem? I thought the starships were running on schedule again, now that Shandor is-"
"The starships are running on schedule, yes, mon ami."
Instantly alarmed, I said, "Where's Chorian, then? Has something happened to him?"
"He is safe and sound among the Haj Qaldun worlds, so far as I am aware," Julien told me. "He has not received your invitation, that is all."
"He what?"
"Yakoub," said Julien reproachfully. "What is this foolishness? How can I summon him here? He is Sunteil's man ' your Chorian."
I felt anger flaring up. "He is Rom, Julien! One of my most loyal and devoted-"
"Perhaps so. He is also Sunteil's man. What you ask is impossible, mon vieux. Light-spikes I can get for you, yes. And other things: you have only to ask. But one who is actually in the employ of a rebel against the emperor? Yakoub, Yakoub, Yakoub!" He shook his head. "Be reasonable, mon ami!"
I was annoyed, but I saw his point. King or no king, I was going to have to yield oh this. It had indeed been foolish of me to think I could have Chorian here at this time. I regretted that greatly. I wanted him here. It would be good for him to become familiar with the Capital, and useful and instructive for him to observe the daily ebb and flow of my negotiations with Periandros. But of course he couldn't be here now. Whatever he might be to me, he was Sunteil's man also. I shouldn't have needed Julien to point that out. Chorian would have to stay away from the Capital.