would want to know.”
“Yes.” Oku’s mouth had gone dry. “Thank you. He died of, uhm, natural causes?” Were there natural causes anymore in this medically advanced age? Even when someone died in their sleep, the reason could be determined, but maybe a doctor hadn’t examined the body yet.
Oku shook her head slowly. Boehm had been the one man to object to her father’s plans at that meeting. And now he was dead.
“We believe so. This is the most secure installation on the planet right now, and everybody who’s here has had a background check. Even your collection of commoners from the city.” Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose.
“They were all collected from one building.” Oku frowned. She didn’t want to be distracted. She searched her mother’s eyes, wondering how much she and her father actually shared. Her mother had always seemed amiable but not adoring with him, but it was hard to know how she truly felt. She didn’t speak negatively about any of her family. Or anyone at all, for the most part. A gossip, she was not. That little dig about commoners was as snarky as she got. “Does Father know?”
“Yes. He said he’ll make funeral arrangements as soon as it’s feasible and that the meeting of the Senate will go on today.”
Of course. His obstacle was gone. Why wouldn’t he want it to go on?
Mother patted her leg and rose. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as she was gone, Oku got dressed. Chasca hopped out of bed and picked up one of Oku’s shoes and plunked it down in front of the door.
“Yes, I know.” Oku took the dog out, found that the morning fog outside the protective dome of the Citadel hid evidence of the sunrise, and debated if she should do anything. And if so, what?
On the way back in, she took a circuitous route and walked toward her father’s office.
Before she reached it, someone else entered the hall from the other end. Senator Andrin. He lifted a hand in greeting to Oku, then stepped into her father’s office without knocking. The door closed firmly behind him.
It was early for a meeting. Oku stopped at the door and pointed for Chasca to sit, so her claws couldn’t be overheard clacking on the old flagstone floor. Oku could hear the murmur of voices inside the office, but she couldn’t make out distinct words.
Aside from Chasca, the hallway was empty. Oku bit her lip, then leaned her ear against the door. If Casmir were here, she was certain he would have suggested a more sophisticated way of eavesdropping. In the castle, where all the royal suites and offices had been retrofitted with modern technology, this wouldn’t work, but Andrin and her father were standing close enough to the door that she could hear them.
“…could have gotten what you wanted without this?” Andrin was asking.
“Do not question me,” her father said.
“I wouldn’t dare to now.”
“Just make sure to argue my side to anyone who objects. It’s what you wanted as much as what I wanted. You were the one to argue for the crusher program.”
“This will be your legacy. History won’t remember me.”
“Unless you make yourself significant. Stand at my side, and you won’t be forgotten.”
The words grew softer and impossible to make out. They must have moved away from the door. Oku beckoned Chasca to follow and hurried off, not wanting to be caught. Besides, she had to think about this. Did the conversation suggest what she already suspected? That Senator Boehm had been killed because he’d been an open dissenter? Or because his vote might have kept her father’s request for King’s Authority—essentially the right to act as an unquestioned dictator—from passing? What would her father do once he had that? Pursue the war and expansion he’d longed for? Something else?
No matter what he planned, was it her place to step in and try to do something? What could she even do? Warn her academic friends in the other governments around the systems? Right now, she dared not even send a message to Casmir.
Oku wished she could. She would have valued his opinion. She felt so alone here in the Citadel, even with hundreds of other people staying in the secure facility.
Maybe if she could make sure Royal Intelligence didn’t have a way to download data from her chip, she would be freer to act and speak with others.
“What do you think, Chasca?” she murmured. “Should I take a trip?”
Chasca wagged her tail in approval.
Asger