The Thousand Emperors

‘There’s something going on I don’t know about, isn’t there?’ she said. ‘And it’s got something to do with Aeschere. Every time I look at you, you’re somewhere else.’

He thought of de Almeida, and her revelations about the lattice in his skull. ‘I want to tell you, but . . .’

‘But you can’t,’ she finished for him. ‘I get it. Though I do think you should talk to Director Lethe.’

Luc shook his head at this, and saw a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘Why not?’ she asked.

‘What I’m involved in is at a higher level even than Lethe.’

‘The Temur Council?’

He didn’t reply, and her eyes darted towards where Cripps’ data-ghost had been standing until just a minute ago.

‘You have to be careful when dealing directly with the Temur Council,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘Very, very careful.’

‘Believe me,’ he said, reaching out to her, ‘I know.’

By the next evening the walls of Luc’s apartment felt as if they were closing in, and he decided to head into Archives rather than spend any more time on his own.

He could have simply data-ghosted himself there – some of Archives’ employees spent their entire careers working remotely, via transfer gate on other Tian Di colonies – but there were certain questions that were best asked face-to-face. That meant a trip to the Pioneer Gorge facility, and to Vincent Hetaera, the Archives Division’s Head of Research.

He travelled by overhead tram, watching as the wafer-thin buildings bordering the north-east quadrant of Chandrakant Lu Park gave way to the classical architecture of the Old Quarter. The tram carried him past the crescent shapes of biomes that preserved the planet’s original flora and fauna, then down into the Gorge itself, before leaving him at the entrance to Archives, a vast, truncated pyramid of a building more than two centuries old.

He found Vincent Hetaera standing by the window of his office. ‘It’s wonderful to see you whole and well,’ said Hetaera, stepping over to Luc with a wide grin on his face.

He stopped and regarded him with a shocked expression. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ he said, his tone apologetic.

‘What?’

Hetaera’s grin grew wide once more. ‘I should have addressed you as Master Archivist Gabion, shouldn’t I?’

‘Luc will do just fine. And I’ll have the same as you’re having,’ he said, gesturing to the glass in the other man’s hand.

Hetaera glanced down at the glass he held as if he’d forgotten it was there. ‘It’s just kavamilch,’ he said. ‘Sure you don’t want something stronger?’

‘Kavamilch will be fine.’

Hetaera shrugged and picked up a pot, pouring some of the warm brew into a second glass and handing it to Luc.

‘I got your request,’ said Hetaera as they sat down opposite each other on couches by the window. ‘But there might be a problem,’ he added with a grimace.

‘What kind of problem?’

‘The author of the book you’re looking for,’ Vincent explained. ‘Javier Maxwell. He never wrote a book by that name, at least not that we know of.’

‘A History of the Tian Di?’ The book Vasili had taken hold of in the last moments before his death. ‘How sure are you about that?’

Hetaera raised an eyebrow. ‘Very sure. Where did you hear about it?’

‘I saw a copy,’ Luc replied, ‘a physical, printed copy, with my own two eyes. Is it possible we just don’t have records of it?’

‘I suppose it’s possible, but ever since Father Cheng locked Maxwell away and took control of the Temur Council, his name’s had restricted access flags attached to it wherever it turns up in our files. Even with your recent promotion, I doubt you’d be able to get permission to find out if it ever did exist without petitioning Father Cheng himself directly.’

Luc nodded tiredly. He’d come across any number of such restricted access flags during his years of researching Winchell Antonov’s endless tangle of connections with terrorist groups scattered far and wide across the Tian Di.

‘May I ask,’ said Hetaera, ‘how you came across this book?’

Luc had been dreading the possibility he might be asked precisely this question. ‘It’s a confidential source,’ he replied carefully.

‘Then if the book ever existed, it’s more than likely been wiped from the official records.’ Hetaera spread his hands. ‘If it was a printed book, how old would you say it was?’

‘I couldn’t begin to guess.’

‘Pre-Schism old?’ Hetaera hazarded.

Luc shrugged. ‘Maybe. I guess it could have been.’ He studied Hetaera, wondering just how much he could get away with telling him. ‘It was part of someone’s personal