Alien Chronicles 1 - The Golden One Read Online Free PDF Page A

comes,” Gaveid said.
    His gloomy tone made the Kaa shiver. He loathed it when Gaveid was in one of his depressions. This should have been a time of rejoicing, but the old chancellor seemed to delight in drawing a curtain of pessimism over them all.
    “Our empire will not end,” the Kaa said decisively. “We shall restore it to its former glory. We shall spread our influence among the worlds until once again our supremacy dazzles the lesser races. We shall have our palaces restored, and our people will know prosperity.”
    “So your majesty’s speeches have assured us before,” Gaveid said in a dry, unimpressed tone.
    The Kaa’s rill reddened, and he glared at the old chancellor. Perhaps it was time for Gaveid to retire. He was becoming a nuisance. “We shall not hear another lecture against the expenses of restoration.”
    “No, sire.” Gaveid bowed and placed his pebbly-skinned hand on the dispatch box atop a small table of polished blue jaepis stone. “There is not time today to discuss the depleted state of the imperial treasury.”
    The Kaa scowled. “Nor do we wish to receive the dispatches. They can wait until Festival is over.”
    “That time approaches.”
    “Not until sunset,” the Kaa retorted, although he knew it was an infantile quibble.
    “Some matters should not wait, sire.”
    The Kaa gestured, and the slaves came forward to divest him of his ceremonial robes. Even in private, without his courtiers to attend him, there was a ceremony and ritual to be followed in undressing the Father of the Empire.
    Gaveid waited a moment, but the Kaa ignored him.
    “Sire,” the chancellor said at last, stepping forward. He walked slowly these days. For an instant, the Kaa almost thought he saw the old chancellor limp. But that was unthinkable. Were the chancellor to become otal—physically decrepit and infirm—he would have to be replaced at once, exiled from Vir, and sent to the country to finish his days far from the demands of public service.
    Regret and grief touched the Kaa. No matter how angry he sometimes became with Gaveid, he did not truly wish to replace him. Gaveid had the wily shrewdness necessary to guide him through the tangles of galactic diplomacy, policy setting, and continued subjugation of the abiru races without inciting active rebellion. Most important of all, Gaveid was clever enough to concoct ways of keeping the treasury filled, which paid for the all-important work of restoring the oldest sections of the palace. Let the gods preserve this old one for a few years more , the Kaa thought.
    “Sire,” Gaveid said persistently, “the dispatches will not take long. The situation on galactic border nine—”
    “Not that,” the Kaa interrupted sharply, deflecting the matter entirely. “Not now. Send the dispatches away.”
    Without waiting for the chancellor’s reply, he strode into his bathing chamber and walked down a series of shallow steps into a pool filled with warm, scented water. Pale moon blossoms floated on the surface, along with the oils of kaffyrd and eloa.
    Slaves bathed and dried him, then his clothes for the procession were brought. Normally his courtiers would have entered for the ritual Dressing of the Day while Gaveid played the holograms of the dispatches. But during Festival many of the stultifying rituals of court were relaxed. There would be many parades to celebrate the return of the males who had left on their mating migration to other communities, and several courtiers had requested leave today to welcome home their sons.
    On this final day, there would be no dispatches and no courtiers casting jealous glances at each other as they vied for imperial favor.
    Instead, the Kaa allowed his slaves to dress him. When he had been assisted into a long-skirted coat of brilliant green cloth woven on the Isles of Vyria, and a heavy chain of gold studded with green Gaza stones—the most precious and costly of jewels—had been hung across his shoulders, he selected a