Theodore Bradly was held to the very last to be interrogated. As the uncontested and acknowledged leader of the conspiracy and the one with the most to gain from it, he had been given the opportunity to see the others as they were returned to the lockup… and he had gotten a first-hand view of his old friend and colleague Bill Carr, now quite insane, being taken past his cell in a strait jacket, wild-eyed and still screaming.
Damnation, he thought, shocked. He’s a screaming nutcase now. They broke him. They completely broke him. What the hell is going on? Did they torture him? What in the bloody damn hell happened?
And then the guards arrived at his cell.
The Head of the Serpent
It was late in the day, fully two hours after normal business hours, and Dunham and Peters, while in the midst of preparing for their imminent wedding, now sat quietly on the sofa in the Imperial Residence, deep in a discussion that had nothing to do with weddings.
“I think I need to be there, Amanda,” Dunham told his fiancée. “For this one, at least. I’ve already managed to watch all the others around my office work and in the evenings. This one? This is the head of the serpent, the leader of the conspiracy to assassinate my new IPD director. I think I owe it to Carter and his people to watch this one in real time.”
“I’m not arguing, Bobby,” Peters replied. “I understand your point of view, and I think you’re right. And if you’ll let me, I’ll watch it right beside you. I’m just not sure whether we should try to eat yet, or postpone dinner until later in the evening, or maybe we shouldn’t even bother with dinner tonight, in the circumstances.” She shivered. “That last interrogation was… upsetting.”
“Was it? I’m afraid I have little to no pity for them, honey,” Bobby said, his face set like granite. “I am, in fact, very, very tired of this… shit.”
“Well, I don’t blame you there,” Amanda replied. “About the time you think you’ve managed to clean out all the rats, a few find their way back in. And apparently start breeding, after a fashion.”
“Exactly. And if I don’t keep exterminating them, they breed until they take over… again.”
“I have a sneaking suspicion that that’s gonna be the nature of the job of Emperor, though, sweetheart,” she murmured. Dunham flashed her a rueful smile.
“I have a sneaking suspicion that you’re right… as usual,” he told her. “So I guess I’d better get used to it. Still, I wish, once I’ve smacked one group down, they’d have the sense to stay smacked down.”
“I agree. Which still leaves us with the problem of what to do about dinner.”
“Let’s postpone dinner and see how we feel after the interrogation,” Dunham suggested. “We can always eat late, after we’ve gotten a little mental distance on it. Maybe go up to the garden and relax some, then have sandwiches?”
“That might work,” Amanda agreed. “Okay, it’s almost time. Let’s go.”
They dropped into the channel reserved for the Emperor to view the interrogations.
With sighs all around, Carter, Peterson, Ashton, and Ames re-entered the observation room, only this time they were accompanied by Winston Peabody, who had come over from Temporary New Headquarters to watch Bradly’s interrogation.
They took their seats behind the physician, Dr. Martin, and technician Lieutenant Cox, and silence fell as Bradly was led into the interrogation room, seated in the lie detector chair, and firmly cuffed and strapped into position.
Bradly was puzzled by the presence of what looked like Imperial Marines pulling guard duty in the interrogation facility. He was completely unfamiliar with the lie detector chair; IPD Headquarters had never had one, because they couldn’t afford to risk their own people being caught out in such fashion, let alone their ‘hired help.’ So when the lockup guards – accompanied by several more of those Imperial Marines with the fancy shoulder braid on their uniforms – cuffed and strapped him tightly to the chair, forcibly holding him in his seat, he instinctively fought back.
“What the hell is this?!” he demanded as he struggled, to no avail. “Some sort of execution chair, like the ancients used? Before I’ve even been tried? Where the hell is my lawyer?!”
As the strange ‘Marines’ moved into the corners of the room to stand guard, another entered.
“There will be no lawyer, Mr. Bradly,” he said.
“That’s Captain Bradly to you,” Bradly snapped. “And you can’t interrogate me without my lawyer present! Who the hell do you think you are?!”
“I know exactly who I am, Mr. Bradly,” he said. “I am Captain David Mercer of the Imperial Guard. I will be interrogating you in the High Court, before the Emperor Trajan.”
“You mean the murdering bastard who seized the throne after his illegitimate sister was deposed?”
“I mean the Emperor who ascended to the Throne by proper designation after his legitimately-chosen sister was assassinated by your colleagues while on the Throne. Trial before the Throne has no recourse and no appeal, Mr. Bradly. Emperor Trajan has all of the records and evidence of the case, and he will hear your own testimony per this interrogation.”
“He’ll be waiting until hell freezes over, then, because I’m not saying a word without my lawyer present.”
“No, I’m afraid he won’t,” Mercer said, grim. “Due to the very nature of the High Court, resistance to answering questions whose answers are desired by the Emperor is considered treason. It is automatic grounds for execution. Should you continue to refuse to cooperate, the answers will be drugged out of you.”
“The hell you say! That’s not legal, and you and I both know it!”
“If I might be allowed to paraphrase something I once heard
