The Line of the Sol Empress

Chapter 39

As long as free will exists, so will evil.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith

[Diego]

"You wanted to see me, sir?" The man said, peeking around the half-opened doorway.

"Yes, come in Mr. Bernde." Diego, gazing into the night through the panoramic window, turned and waved him forward into his office. "Shut the door and take a seat." Diego prepared two drinks in clear rounded glasses, handing one to his visitor and taking a sip of the other. He leaned against the desk. "It has come to my attention, Mr. Bernde, that your attempt failed."

"Oh, no, sir. Everything is proceeding by design."

Diego raised his eyebrows and lowered his glass. "Please explain, Mr. Bernde."

"The poisoning attempt had little chance for success. I am surprised the tainted wine actually made it to the table. Sloppy security on their part."

"What of your representative who placed the poison. Might they implicate us?"

Bernde took a sip and put on a sly grin. "No, sir. The suicide note placed next to her body will implicate Free Dawn."

Diego responded with his own sly grin. "Ingenious. Please continue."

"You have heard that the Empress Induction ceremony will be held tomorrow?" Bernde said, to which Diego nodded. "They may think the threat has passed, but it has not. A monster waits in the sea and will attack when all the primary targets are close together. Free Dawn will claim responsibility, of course." He smiled to himself, then finished his drink with a flourish. "I call it Operation Kraken."

With a chuckle, Diego slurped down the remaining liquid in his glass. "I misjudged you, Mr. Bernde. I think you shall rise far in the Consortium."

"Thank you, sir." The man stood up. "Is there anything else?"

"One thing." Diego came around the desk. "A certain minister appears to be wavering in his commitment. I wonder if you might help me with that."

*****

Diego parked his personal hover-car under a sprawling tree within a public park, partially hidden from casual eyes, although none were about so early in the predawn morning. A barely perceptible glow appeared on the eastern horizon of the dark moonless sky. Within an hour, the sun would rise.

"He's late," Diego mumbled to himself. Another unfulfilled promise, typical of a politician.

After some time, a tall figure cloaked in a dark overcoat with the collar turned up approached the car and tapped on the window. With a touch, a gull-wing door lifted, and the man ducked in.

"What is so urgent, Prime Minister?" Diego asked with a scowl.

"I want out," he blurted.

"There is no out, Wyatt. The bridges behind you have long since burned."

"It's hopeless!" Wyatt yelled, throwing his hands up. "Soon there will be a new Sol Empress, and she has already threatened me. One of the first things she will do is to dissolve the government and call for new elections. Then there is Celeste Ciel's trial. Her lawyer wants to prosecute from the defense. Don't you see this!" His eyes glared.

"Calm your yourself, Wyatt," Diego retorted. "Challenges to be sure, but now is not the time to jump ship." He poured an amber liquid into two crystal tumblers, one scratched, and handed that one to Wyatt. "Here, have a drink. Then let us discuss the matter rationally."

The Prime Minister tilted his head back and poured down the drink in a single gulp, then tossed the glass aside. "What is there to discuss? I plan to resign today and then disappear. If you were smart, you would do the same thing."

"I see." Diego placed his drink down on the serving tray and put his hands together. "Let me propose this, give me one full day to resolve the matters. If not, then you may have your out with no hard feelings." He tilted his head and raised a dark eyebrow. "Would you agree with that?"

"Okay. Just one day, no more." The Prime Minister flipped up his overcoat collar and disappeared into the withering night.

Diego examined his glass, swirling the fine liquor, then took another sip. In a few hours, the specialty poison wiped across the rim of the Prime Minister's glass will take effect, providing a quick silent death. In a terse communication to a media outlet, the Free Dawn will claim responsibility for the assassination.

An out he wanted, so an out he shall have.