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  “Since when was the glorious Imperial Space Armada reduced to being a toddler’s toy, Excellency?”

  The man to whom he so provocatively whispered was the one who had just had half the men under his command stolen from him by Reinhard.

  Imperial Marshal Mückenberger, commander in chief of the Imperial Space Armada, arched a graying eyebrow just slightly.

  “So you say, milord, but you can’t deny that the golden brat is a talented tactician. It’s a fact he destroyed rebel forces despite being outnumbered, and his talents have even silenced battle-hardened veterans like Merkatz.”

  “Indeed, the man does look like he’s had his fangs pulled.” Casting a glance toward Admiral Merkatz, standing silent amid a row of military officers, Offresser gave a merciless critique. “While it’s true the brat did defeat them, one victory by itself might just be a fluke. If you ask me, all I can think is that the enemy just didn’t know what they were doing. Victory and defeat are ultimately relative, after all.”

  “You’re speaking rather loudly.”

  Though he spoke reprovingly, the imperial marshal had not denied the content of what the senior admiral had said. Reinhard’s achievement was not an easy thing for highborn nobles and old guard admirals to accept.

  The time and place being what it was, however, the imperial marshal apparently felt a need to change the subject. “About that particular enemy, by the way, have you ever heard of a commander by the name of Yang?”

  “Let me think … I don’t remember anyone by that name. What about him?”

  “In the recent battle, he was the man who stopped the rebel force from completely disintegrating and brought about the death of Rear Admiral Erlach.”

  “Oh?”

  “He seems to possess quite an aptitude for the work of a general. I have information that even our blond-haired whelp had his nose tweaked by the man.”

  “And you’re not glad to hear it?”

  “I would be if this were only about Reinhard. But do you think they pick and choose who to fight when they go to battle?”

  As might be expected, there was a note of disgust in the imperial marshal’s voice, at which Ofresser awkwardly shrugged his thick shoulders.

  In the Black Pearl Room, music was beginning to play again. It was “Thy Courage Doth Walküren Adore,” a piece composed in praise of the military officers who gave their all in service of king and country.

  The curtain was now beginning to fall on what for the highborn nobles had been a most unpleasant ceremony.

  Captain Sigfried Kircheis, together with the other soldiers of the field officer class, was waiting in the Amethyst Room, which was separated by a wide corridor from the site of the ceremony itself.

  Kircheis, as he was neither a noble nor an admiral, lacked the qualifications needed for entrance into the Black Pearl Room. It had been decided over the past two days, however, that he would be promoted to rear admiral, skipping over commodore to a position in which he would be called “Excellency.” When that happened, he would be excluded no longer from elegant ceremonies.

  Every time Reinhard climbs a rung in the hierarchy, I get pulled up behind him … Kircheis trembled just slightly. Although he didn’t think of himself as lacking in talent, the speed of his rise was certainly extraordinary, and it would be disastrous to think it due entirely to his own ability.

  “Captain Sigfried Kircheis, correct?” said a soft voice from his side.

  An officer who looked to be in is early thirties was standing in Kircheis’s line of sight. He wore a captain’s insignia. He was a tall man, though not so tall as Kircheis, with pale-brown eyes, a sickly white complexion, and lots of early gray in his dark head of hair.

  “That’s right, and who might you be?”

  “Captain Paul von Oberstein. This is my first time meeting you.”

  Just as he spoke these words, Kircheis was startled to see a strange light well up in his eyes.

  “I beg your pardon …” murmured the man calling himself von Oberstein. He had read from Kircheis’s expression what had happened. “Something must be wrong with my artificial eyes. I’m sorry if I startled you. I’ll make it a point to have them replaced, tomorrow maybe.”

  “They’re artificial? I’m sorry, then—I’m the one who should beg your pardon.”

  “No, not at all. Thank to these things, with their integrated photonic computers, I can get along without any disability whatsoever. They just don’t seem to last very long, do they?”

  “Were you wounded in battle?”

  “No, I’ve been like this since birth. Had I been born in Rudolf the Great’s generation, I’d have been caught and disposed of by that Genetic Inferiority Elimination Act.”

  Vibrations of air became sound that just barely reached the lower limits of human hearing, and yet that was enough to make Kircheis gasp. It went without saying that comments sounding critical of Rudolf the Great were grounds for charges of lèse-majesté.

  “You have a fine commander, Captain Kircheis,” von Oberstein added in a slightly louder voice, yet it was still nothing more than a whisper. “And by a fine commander, I mean someone who can make the most of the talents of his subordinates. There are so very few of them in the service right now. Count von Lohengramm is different, though. He’s most impressive for one so young. It’s a hard thing for the powerful highborn families to understand, though, caught up in their lineage-obsessed mentality …”

  Kircheis’s trap detector was ringing like mad in the back of his mind. How could he be sure this man von Oberstein wasn’t some marionette sent by someone hoping for Reinhard to slip up?

  “So tell me, what unit are you serving in?” he said, casually changing the subject.

  “Up until now, I’ve been in the Data Processing Department at Command HQ, but just recently I received orders to serve as a staff officer in the fleet stationed at Iserlohn.”

  Von Oberstein smiled thinly after his reply. “You seem to be on your guard, Captain.”

  At that instant, an embarrassed Kircheis was just about to say something when he caught sight of Reinhard coming into the room. The ceremony was over, it seemed.

  “Kircheis, tomorrow …” Reinhard began to say, but then he noticed the pale man standing next to his subordinate.

  Von Oberstein saluted and introduced himself, then after brief and conventional words of congratulation, turned and departed.

  Reinhard and Kircheis went out into the corridor. Tonight they would be staying in a small guesthouse in an out-of-the-way corner of the palace grounds. It was a fifteen-minute walk through the gardens to get there.

  “Kircheis,” Reinhard said as they came out underneath the night sky, “I’m meeting my sister tomorrow. I’m sure you’re coming too?”

  “It’s all right for me to come along?”

  “Why so reserved at this point? We’re family.” Reinhard smiled like a young boy but then reeled himself back in and lowered his voice just a little. “By the way, who was that man just now? Something about him bothers me a little.”

  Kircheis gave a brief overview of the situation and further opined that he was “somehow a mysterious fellow.”

  Reinhard’s perfectly formed brows had furrowed slightly as he was listening. “A mysterious fellow indeed,” he agreed. “I don’t know what he has in mind cozying up to you like that, but it would pay to be on your guard. Of course, with as many enemies as we have, being on one’s guard isn’t exactly easy either.”

  Both of the men smiled together.

  III

  The residence of Countess Annerose von Grünewald was located in another nook of Neue Sans Souci Palace, though visiting it required a ten-minute ride in a flamboyantly decorated landcar used only at court.

  For someone like Kircheis, walking would have been easier, but when a landcar was sent round by the Ministry of the Palace
Interior as a token of His Imperial Highness’s generosity, there was nothing to do but get in. The mansion they were bound for was by the shore of a lake grown thickly about with lindenbaum trees, built in a simple, clean style of architecture that fit its mistress well.

  When he spotted Annerose’s slender, elegant figure standing out on the porch, Reinhard leapt from the still-moving landcar and hurried to her at a trot.

  “Annerose! My big sister!”

  Annerose greeted her younger brother with a smile that was like sunlight in the spring.

  “Reinhard! It’s wonderful you’ve come. And even Sieg is here.”

  “The important thing is that you’re looking well, too, Miss Annerose.”

  “Thank you. Now come inside, both of you. I’ve been waiting for you for the past few days now.”

  Ah, she hasn’t changed a bit since old times, thought Kircheis. That gentle kindness, that unaffected purity … impossible to mar, though all the emperor’s might be brought against it.

  “I’ll put on some coffee. Have some kelsey plum cake too. I baked it myself, so I’m not sure if it’ll be to your tastes or not. Try this and tell me.”

  “We shall align our tastes to it,” Reinhard answered, laughing. The living room was just the right size, and a relaxed, friendly atmosphere filled its space. The three young people shared equally in the illusion that the spirits of time had moved that room alone back ten years in time.

  The clink of coffee cups as they touched one another, the clean tablecloth, the aroma of a slight touch of vanilla essence that was mixed into the kelsey cake … glimpses of a singular joy were reflected in all of these things.

  Annerose was wearing a little smile as she sliced and parceled out the cake with deft, fluid movements.

  “Every once in a while, someone will tell me the kitchen is no place for a countess, but no matter what they say, I enjoy it so much I just can’t help myself. Though it is a lot of hard work not relying on machines very much.”

  The coffee was brewed and the cream poured in. There was homemade cake and conversation without the slightest concern of ulterior motives. For once, their hearts were at ease.

  “Reinhard always wants to have his way, Sieg. I can only imagine all the trouble he must put you through.”

  “No, not at—”

  “You can say what you think.”

  “Reinhard, stop teasing him. Oh! I just remembered. I have some delicious vin rosé that Viscountess Schafhausen gave me. It’s in the cellar, so I wonder if I could have you go and get it? Sorry to send His Excellency the Imperial Marshal on errands, though.”

  “Now you’re the one teasing me. But yes, milady—whether for errands or whatever else, consider me at your service.”

  Reinhard stood and departed, relaxed and at ease.

  Annerose and Kircheis stayed behind. Annerose turned her little smile toward her younger brother’s best friend.

  “Sieg, thank you for always being there for my brother.”

  “It’s nothing at all. I’m the one who’s always being looked out for. Since I’m not an aristocrat, it seems a bit much for me, making captain at my age.”

  “You’ll be a rear admiral soon enough. I’ve heard the news. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  Kircheis’s earlobes started to feel hot.

  “My brother never says so, and maybe he doesn’t realize it himself, but Sieg, he really does depend on you. So please, somehow, take good care of him from now on, too.”

  “I’m honored … that someone like me—”

  “Seig, you should recognize your own talents more. My brother has a talent. Probably a talent that no one else has. But he isn’t as mature as you are. He’s a bit like an antelope that gets so caught up in the speed of his legs that he runs right off a cliff. I’ve known him since he was born, so I can say things like that.”

  “Miss Annerose …”

  “Please, Sieg, I’m begging you. Watch over Reinhard—don’t let him lose his footing on those cliffs. If you see the signs of it, scold and nag. If the warning comes from you, he’ll listen. The day he stops listening to you is the day my brother is finished. He’ll have proven all by himself that no matter how much raw talent he may have had, he lacked ability to perfect it.”

  That little smile had disappeared already from Annerose’s lovely countenance. In her sapphire eyes, a deeper blue than those of her brother, there hovered the shadow of something like sorrow.

  An invisible blade glided over Kircheis’s heart. That’s right, things aren’t the same as ten years ago. Reinhard and I aren’t neighborhood boys anymore, and Annerose isn’t that domestic-minded little girl anymore. The emperor’s favored mistress, the imperial marshal, and his top aide. The three of us, standing amid the fragrance and stench of imperial power …

  “If it’s within my ability, I’ll do anything, Miss Annerose.”

  Somehow, Kircheis’s voice managed to obey the will of its master as he struggled to contain his emotions.

  “Please believe in my loyalty toward Reinhard. I will never do anything that would betray your wishes, Miss Annerose.”

  “Thank you, Sieg. I’m sorry—I’m always asking too much of you. But other than you, there’s no one I can rely on. Please, find some way to forgive me?”

  I want the two of you to rely on me, Kircheis murmured in his heart. Ever since that moment ten years ago when I heard you say, “Please be a good friend to my brother,” it’s what I’ve always wanted …

  Ten years ago! Again, Kircheis felt that pain in his heart.

  If he had been his present age ten years ago, he would never have handed Annerose over into the emperor’s hands. No matter what the cost, he would have taken those two siblings and fled, probably to the Free Planets Alliance. And by this time, he might even be an officer in the alliance military.

  But back then, he hadn’t the ability and had lacked even a clear grasp of his own desires. Now things were different. But ten years or more in the past, there had been nothing he could do. Why couldn’t people be the ages they needed to be at the most important moments in their lives?

  “You could’ve put this in an easier place to find.”

  Those words announced the return of Reinhard.

  “Yes, your hard work is much appreciated. But your efforts in seeking it out bring their own reward. I’ll go get the glasses.”

  Times such as these were fleeting, though to have them at all was to be counted a blessing. Kircheis told himself that. The next battle, which would surely be coming, was not something he could allow himself to shrink from.

  I

  Stretching from fifty-five floors above ground level to eighty floors beneath it, located in the deciduous climatic zone of the northern hemisphere of Planet Heinessen, was the Free Planets Alliance Joint Operational Headquarters building. Positioned in orderly fashion all around it were buildings for Science and Technology Headquarters, Rear Service Headquarters, the Space Defense Command and Control Center, the military academy, and the Capital Defense Command Center. These buildings formed a zone that was the hub of military affairs, about one hundred kilometers away from the heart of the capital city of Heinessenpolis.

  In an assembly hall that occupied space on four of the Joint Operational Headquarters building’s underground floors, a memorial service for those who had died in the Battle of Astarte was about to begin. It was a beautiful afternoon with clear blue skies, two days after the alliance force dispatched to the Astarte system had returned as an exhausted remnant, having lost 60 percent of its force strength.

  The lane heading toward the hall was packed with crowds of attendees. The families of those lost were present, as were the related governmental and military personnel. Among them was also the figure of Yang Wen-Li.

  As he made appropriate responses to the people who came to
speak to him, Yang looked up at the vast spread of blue sky. Although he could not see them, countless military satellites soundlessly flew overhead in space above the many layers of atmosphere.

  Among them were the twelve interceptor satellites that together formed “Artemis’s Necklace,” that giant engine of murder and destruction controlled by the Space Defense Command and Control Center, of which alliance military leaders were given to boast: “As long as we have this, Planet Heinessen is impregnable.” Every time he heard that, Yang would remember past history and how most fortresses dubbed “impregnable” had collapsed amid devouring flames of judgment. Did they really believe that being strong militarily was something to brag about?

  Yang lightly slapped both cheeks with his hands. It felt like he wasn’t completely awake. He’d slept for sixteen hours straight but stayed awake for sixty hours before that.

  He wasn’t eating right either. His stomach wasn’t feeling all that well, so all he had consumed was some vegetable soup that Julian had warmed up for him. He had collapsed into bed as soon as he had returned to the official housing, then left to come here not even an hour after waking, and now that he thought about it, he could not remember having had any decent conversation with the young boy whose guardian he had become.

  Oh well, guess this makes me a failure as a parent …

  As he was thus thinking, someone tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, Rear Admiral Alex Caselnes, his upperclassman from the academy, was standing there, smiling.

  “It looks like the hero of Astarte hasn’t completely woken up yet.”

  “Who’s the hero?”

  “The person standing in front of me. You probably haven’t had time to see the news yet, but that’s what the whole field of journalism is writing about you.”

  “Me? I’m a defeated general.”

  “That’s right,” said Caselnes. “The Alliance Navy was defeated. Which is why we need a hero. Though if we’d won big, I wouldn’t go so far as ‘need,’ you know? That’s because when we lose, we have to avert the public’s eyes from the big picture. It was probably the same thing with El Facil.”