columns, a rosette window of stained glass covering a wall, a floor of polished, black marble with the huge, oaken desk at its center. There were two chairs and a roll-in bar with carafes of coffee and tea. They went to the chairs. Osman glanced twice at Fedor, then poured tea for both of them without asking for a preference.
“I presume you have news for me, but I’m not encouraged by the expression on your face, my friend,” said Osman.
They sat. Osman handed him a cup of tea with pudgy, ringed fingers, and took a sip from his own cup. “The news isn’t good, but is also inconclusive,” said Fedor.
“They haven’t been found? We had five different sources of intelligence on this.”
“Oh, they were found, Excellency. We could have taken them on the beach, but you wanted as much information as we could get on their supporting network. We’ve identified two cells in the operation, and arrests are being made as we speak.”
“So why are you frowning at me?” asked the Emperor of Gan.
“Our principle targets have suddenly disappeared. The boy and his bodyguard got away when we attacked their car on the highway to the shuttle-port. The car was burning so furiously it took hours to discover the remains inside weren’t theirs. They killed six of our people and escaped to the shuttle-port in one of our cars. It was found at the shuttle-port. Our men didn’t see them. They might have flown out, or been taken somewhere else. We’re going over passenger lists there and at spaceport. We’ve found unused tickets that might have been theirs. It’s possible they’re still on Gan.”
Osman sipped his tea, and though he spoke softly there was a dangerous glint in his closely spaced eyes. “I think that would be a poor bet. If they have any intelligence at all they know we’ve penetrated their cells. Their structure is crumbling; a year or two, and we’ll have all of them. This so-called Church of Lyra will disappear forever.
“Meanwhile it’s important we get the boy in our hands. He’s a figurehead, a symbol to them.” Osman shook his head, and sniffed. “They think he’s an Immortal.”
“We’ve put agents on every flight since we discovered their bodies were missing from the car,” said Fedor, “and our listeners in the cells have been alerted.”
“The longer he’s free the more hope these fanatics have, and the more people we’ll lose when we bring them down. Eventually we can dig them out if they remain on Gan; the difficulty lies off planet, especially on Grenolda and Galena. The League is fragile, Fedor. You’ve been with me long enough to know that. There are some who at least sympathize with the democratic and anarchy preaching of the people who came here out of nowhere to stir up trouble. My father fought it for twenty years, but I don’t have his patience, Fedor. Any remaining Immortals must be arrested and killed, their followers arrested, their caverns emptied out. I want their church destroyed, and their philosophy erased from our history. I want order on Gan, and I will have it. That boy is to be found, and killed, and his body brought to me.”
“I understand, Excellency. It will be done.”
“Of course it will, old friend. I trust you. We’ve been together too long for you to fail me. Who was in charge of the attack on the car?”
“Del Onsager, Excellency.”
“I want him arrested and shot without delay.”
“He’s dead, Excellency. He was in a pursuit car, and it crashed into a tree, killing four operatives.”
“And who was his overseer?”
“Captain Kirman planned the operation.”
“Then have him arrested and shot instead.”
“But Excellency, the Captain—”
“Symbolism, Fedor. Every action is a symbol of leadership. My leadership. And failure is not tolerated. Now carry out the order.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
Osman made an effeminate gesture of dismissal. “Don’t report on this matter again until you have something positive, but that must be
“I presume you have news for me, but I’m not encouraged by the expression on your face, my friend,” said Osman.
They sat. Osman handed him a cup of tea with pudgy, ringed fingers, and took a sip from his own cup. “The news isn’t good, but is also inconclusive,” said Fedor.
“They haven’t been found? We had five different sources of intelligence on this.”
“Oh, they were found, Excellency. We could have taken them on the beach, but you wanted as much information as we could get on their supporting network. We’ve identified two cells in the operation, and arrests are being made as we speak.”
“So why are you frowning at me?” asked the Emperor of Gan.
“Our principle targets have suddenly disappeared. The boy and his bodyguard got away when we attacked their car on the highway to the shuttle-port. The car was burning so furiously it took hours to discover the remains inside weren’t theirs. They killed six of our people and escaped to the shuttle-port in one of our cars. It was found at the shuttle-port. Our men didn’t see them. They might have flown out, or been taken somewhere else. We’re going over passenger lists there and at spaceport. We’ve found unused tickets that might have been theirs. It’s possible they’re still on Gan.”
Osman sipped his tea, and though he spoke softly there was a dangerous glint in his closely spaced eyes. “I think that would be a poor bet. If they have any intelligence at all they know we’ve penetrated their cells. Their structure is crumbling; a year or two, and we’ll have all of them. This so-called Church of Lyra will disappear forever.
“Meanwhile it’s important we get the boy in our hands. He’s a figurehead, a symbol to them.” Osman shook his head, and sniffed. “They think he’s an Immortal.”
“We’ve put agents on every flight since we discovered their bodies were missing from the car,” said Fedor, “and our listeners in the cells have been alerted.”
“The longer he’s free the more hope these fanatics have, and the more people we’ll lose when we bring them down. Eventually we can dig them out if they remain on Gan; the difficulty lies off planet, especially on Grenolda and Galena. The League is fragile, Fedor. You’ve been with me long enough to know that. There are some who at least sympathize with the democratic and anarchy preaching of the people who came here out of nowhere to stir up trouble. My father fought it for twenty years, but I don’t have his patience, Fedor. Any remaining Immortals must be arrested and killed, their followers arrested, their caverns emptied out. I want their church destroyed, and their philosophy erased from our history. I want order on Gan, and I will have it. That boy is to be found, and killed, and his body brought to me.”
“I understand, Excellency. It will be done.”
“Of course it will, old friend. I trust you. We’ve been together too long for you to fail me. Who was in charge of the attack on the car?”
“Del Onsager, Excellency.”
“I want him arrested and shot without delay.”
“He’s dead, Excellency. He was in a pursuit car, and it crashed into a tree, killing four operatives.”
“And who was his overseer?”
“Captain Kirman planned the operation.”
“Then have him arrested and shot instead.”
“But Excellency, the Captain—”
“Symbolism, Fedor. Every action is a symbol of leadership. My leadership. And failure is not tolerated. Now carry out the order.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
Osman made an effeminate gesture of dismissal. “Don’t report on this matter again until you have something positive, but that must be
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