Fortunes of the Imperium Read Online Free PDF Page A

center, with radiating spokes reaching out to nine points of tiny white light, one blue and one orange. Rather than a sound, the speaker created a subsonic vibration that tickled my fingers when I activated it. Nesbitt had the same reaction. His hand jumped nervously away from the device at first, but shyly crept back to it, as it became evident that the sensation was enjoyable. He beamed at me, the smile almost bursting his large jaws.
    “Handsome,” Redius said, evidently pleased with his rust-orange, gold and deep purple lights. Since the crew was not in uniform, he hooked it into the breast of his tunic. “Pleasing in many dimensions.”
    “Keep them with you,” I said. “They should always bring you good fortune.”
    “Thank you, my lord,” Plet said, hastily putting hers away. I understood her reticence. The designs were rather personal. She might have felt I was exposing her psyche in ways that she felt were none of anyone else’s concern.
    Our meals arrived. I inhaled deeply to better appreciate the aroma, and my head spun around. I expected to catch sight of my spine during the rotations. I caught the edge of the table with my hands.
    “Are you all right, my lord?” Nesbitt asked, concern writ overly large on his expanded face.
    “I wish the medications that they used on me would settle into my system!” I said. “I have given them every opportunity, and the doctors set me loose upon the general public with the assurances that I was ready.”
    “Not drugs,” Redius said. “Nanites chiefly.”
    “Really?” I asked, my eyebrows climbing my forehead. “How many of them are there? It sounds like an entire platoon of the little characters, and they are all playing different music.”
    “The feeling will pass, my lord,” Anstruther said. “Really.”
    “Thomas, please!”
    “Thomas.” Her face reddened, and she dropped her eyes to her lucky circuit. “I . . . I can explain more if you would like.”
    “Yes, I would,” I said eagerly. Anstruther’s specialty was technology. “This is your wheelhouse, and I would be obliged if you would show me around.”
    I saw a peep of iris appear through her eyelashes.
    “As you wish, my lord . . . Thomas.”
    I waved to the others.
    “Please, don’t let the food go cold, or the management will never allow me back in here,” I said.
    The hour being a bit late for lunch, my guests needed no encouragement. They tucked into the gigantic repasts before them. Anstruther took minute bites of her food, but unlimbered her viewpad and linked it with the circuits in the table so I could see the file she had opened.
    “Well, sir,” she began, “the Uctu settle on planets with a higher concentration of chlorine in the atmosphere than humans and Wichu are comfortable with. The process is necessary so it doesn’t harm our tissues.”
    A professional-looking graphic appeared, showing an extreme closeup of a tiny, round, smooth-bodied machine equipped with pairs of pointed mechanical feet. It toddled into the center of the screen. The rounded back opened up to reveal a nugget of red, then closed again. It was joined by a few more, which showed the payloads they bore: chemicals of several colors and textures, or complex machines still tinier than they were. Hundreds and thousands of objects just like them increased the ranks. The “camera” pulled away to display serried ranks of nanites, more and more until they were a seething mass of silver.
    “Are these genetic changes?” I inquired, warily. I knew from previous private briefings I had undergone that it was imperative that my genes remained intact.
    “No, sir. About sixty billion nanites have been introduced into your system to process the excess input. They occupy your kidneys and liver, as well as a few in your lungs and brain to prevent any contaminants from crossing the blood-brain barrier.”
    The animation displayed a thin gray wall against bright green waves that washed against it in vain.
    “None