Read Online Fortunes of the Imperium by Jody Lynn Nye - Free Book Online

I had had shipped in from one of the outer worlds of the Imperium. The perfect sphere was carved from eye-clear rock crystal, colorless, cool and surprisingly heavy. Though I saw little more than my own hands on the underside through its depths, it was a marvelous item with which to play.
    It occupied a table near the bow window that looked out upon my mother’s garden. I had of late taken to erecting my soothsayer’s tent beside the iris bed, to allow the reflection of the handsome purple flowers to reflect in the clear depths of the sphere until such time as my mind filled it with other visions. From a distance it looked as if I kept a severed head underneath a cloth. More than one visitor had jumped in startled surprise. Once in a while, it caught me unawares as well.
    Not troubling to put on my fortune-teller’s robes or bring out the tent, I sat at the small table near the window and whisked the covering away. The globe looked back at me like a colorless eyeball on a socket made of ebony wood.
    I set my hands underneath it and looked into its heart.
    I stared for what seemed like hours. Condensation formed between the pads of my fingers and palm. I implored the universe to favor me with an insight regarding our enterprise. How would I know the truth when I saw it?
    My eyes ached with the strain of gazing. Then, to my surprise and delight, a tiny thread of cobalt-blue light arched from the mound of one thumb, crossed the arc of the globe to the tip of my left forefinger, where it exploded into minute sparks. Fireworks!
    It must be a reflection. I was not so deluded as to believe I had suddenly acquired the ability to see complex illusions like skyrockets exploding. I looked up. The blue sky was clear but for a few whipped-cream clouds and the tapering contrail of a departing spacecraft. But where had the vision come from?
    I was not going to get answers from cudgeling my own brain. It had only seen what my eyes had. But I took the image for inspiration for the near future. I was going on an adventure. The next step, naturally, was a going-away party!
    I spread the silken cover over my crystal ball and retrieved my viewpad from its charging cradle on my desk. I fell back into my favorite armchair to gather inspiration. Fireworks, first and foremost. Then, food and drink. Next, other entertainment, including musicians, magicians, and a palmist I knew to be reliable and discreet. Decorations! Prizes, to be randomly distributed, according to rules that I would make up on the spot. Then, the guest list, the people I wished to come and enjoy it all.
    Pro forma, my cousin the emperor was first on the top of the page, though he never attended any of our parties. Shojan had far too many official events and functions to attend. I didn’t expect him, but all due homage would be paid if he did show up. I made arrangements for the portable Chair of State to be present, under its own marquee in the colors of his coat of arms, with a royal blue ribbon stretched across the arm rests to prevent anyone else sitting in it and taking mocking pictures for their Infogrid files (it had happened; I possessed images taken of many violators. Though it might not be creditable, I was never one of them.). The rest of the guests would be those with whom I most enjoyed being. Ah, the fun of it!
    When I finished constructing the theme of the party and assembling the vendors, stationers, and entertainers, I felt rejuvenated. My soul soared. My body was full of energy. My mind kept racing ahead, anticipating the delight on my guests’ faces and the joy in my own heart. I tapped away on the viewpad, enjoying myself more and more as I went along.
    Meditation truly was good for one’s morale.

CHAPTER 5
    When I was finished making the list of those I wished to attend the party, I ran up and down the small screen. To my chagrin, I realized that there was a gaping hole in the number of invitees. How could I have failed to include my crew? Hastily, I keyed