When you first meet the emperox, a bow is sufficient, Obelees had said to him as they had walked to her office. Some like to kneel, and you may if you like. But you will have only a limited time with her and that will cut into your time. After your introduction it is expected that the emperox will initiate and lead the conversation. Speak when spoken to; answer any questions. When your appointment time is up or if the emperox dismisses you early, bow and exit the room. Always be respectful and reserved. Your emperox deserves no less.
Marce entered the office of the emperox, took one look at the surroundings, and laughed out loud. Obelees Atek frowned at him.
“Is something funny, Lord Marce?” asked a young woman, standing in front of a desk. She was wearing imperial green. This was clearly the emperox, and equally clearly he’d just blown his entrance.
He bowed. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he said. “I was surprised by your office.”
“How so?”
“I … well. Ma’am. It looks like a museum exploded inside of it.”
Obelees Atek sucked in her breath and apparently was now waiting for the emperox to sentence him to a beheading.
Instead she laughed, openly, loudly. “Thank you,” she said, with emphasis. “This has been exactly my thought for the last nine months. Sometimes I’m scared to walk around in here. I’m worried I’m going to bump into something and break a priceless historical artifact. I’m terrified of my own workspace, Lord Marce. I’m working up the courage to redecorate.”
“You’re the emperox, ma’am. I’m pretty sure they’ll let you.”
“It’s not whether I can. It’s whether I should.” The emperox nodded to Obelees, dismissing her. Obelees bowed, shot Marce one last visual warning to behave, and left. As she did Marce noted that he was alone in the room with the emperox; she had no assistants or ministers or secretaries with her.
“Tell me the thought you just had, Lord Marce,” the emperox said, and motioned for him to sit in a chair in front of her desk.
“I was thinking that you have less staff than I expected, ma’am.” Marce sat in the chair. She remained standing, leaning on her desk.
“I have even more staff than I imagine you expect,” she said. “And usually I will have them sit in on my meetings. I have a lot of meetings, Lord Marce. You might not believe how many. I couldn’t possibly keep them all straight without help. So they’re with me,” the emperox motioned to her desk, “and I sit behind this and I use the imperial ‘we’ and everyone is very respectful and polite, and no one ever laughs at this absolutely ridiculous office when they come in the room. But you did.”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“I’m not. On the contrary I’m glad you did. But I’d like to know why you did, if you don’t mind, Lord Marce.”
“I suppose because I’m overstimulated, ma’am.”
“You make yourself sound like an eight-year-old given too much sugar,” the emperox said, smiling.
Marce smiled back. “It’s not a bad metaphor,” he admitted. “My entire life has been on End, ma’am. It’s not exactly the backwater everyone makes it out to be, but it’s not … this. Hub. And Xi’an. And this palace.”
The emperox wrinkled her nose and Marce was suddenly aware that whatever he had been expecting from this meeting, this was not it. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“Uh,” Marce said.
The emperox laughed again. “I’m sorry, Lord Marce. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to trap you into a faux pas. But you have to understand. I wasn’t meant to be emperox. I didn’t grow up with all of … this, as you say. It’s as alien to me as I imagine it is to you.”
“I am nobility, ma’am. It’s not alien. It’s just a lot.”
“Yes. Yes. Again, thank you. You’ve perfectly encapsulated what I’ve been feeling about my life for the last year.”
“I aim to please, ma’am.”
“You have,” the emperox assured him. “So far, this may be my favorite confidential meeting I’ve had to date.” She smiled again, and cocked her head. “And this is why I’m sad that now we have to ruin it by talking about the end of civilization.”
Marce nodded. “So, you know.”
“You didn’t assume that I granted you this audience because I am in the habit of welcoming minor nobility, did you, Lord Marce? I mean, no offense.”
“None taken,” Marce said. “I just didn’t know what you knew and how much I would have to explain to you.”
“You may assume that I know as much as my father did about what your father was up to on End, why he was sent, and what the implications of his research are.”
“All right.”
“So now that we have that out of the way, my first question: Are the Flow streams going to collapse?”
“Yes.”
The emperox let out a heavy breath. “When?”
“It’s already begun. We estimate the Flow stream from End to Hub has already collapsed. The Yes, Sir, the ship I was on, was probably the last ship to make it through.”
“How will we know if that’s correct?”
“When other ships scheduled to arrive at Hub don’t arrive, you’ll know.”
“Ships are often delayed in their departures and therefore their arrivals.”
Marce nodded. “It’ll be a couple of weeks at least before people begin to notice that ships are missing. Even then they’re likely to blame it on something else.”
“Like that civil war of yours.”
“It’s not my civil war,” Marce snorted, and then remembered who he was talking to. “Ma’am.”
The emperox ignored it. “Is there any way to use the collapse of this Flow stream? The one from End to here?”
“I can present the work and show the math behind it,” Marce said. “But I’m going to warn you ahead of time that anyone who isn’t already a Flow physicist isn’t going to follow it at all, and even then they will argue what it means. It will take time for them to go through my father’s work and his prediction model. But by then it won’t matter.”
“Because more Flow streams will have collapsed, and that will be the evidence.”
Marce nodded again. “Right.”
“You said you knew that the Flow stream from End to Hub has already collapsed.”
“It’s very likely, yes.”
“So you can predict the collapses.”
“We can give you probabilities on which ones are going to collapse and when. It’s not predicting. It’s looking at the data and offering the most probable outcomes.”
“Do you know which one is going to collapse next? I mean, which one is likeliest?”
“Yes. It’s likely to be the Flow stream from here to Terhathum. The model predicts it will collapse within the next six weeks.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. But it’s probable.”
“How probable? Give me a percentage.”
“I’d say about eighty percent chance you’ll have the Hub–Terhathum collapse within six weeks. After that it’s hazy but there’s an almost one hundred percent chance within a year.”
“That’s the streams to Terhathum and back?”
Marce shook his head. “No. The Flow streams to a system and from a system are not actually related.” He caught the emperox’s look at this. “I know, that’s not a fact anyone’s brain is comfortable with, but it’s true. Our model has a prediction from the stream from Terhathum to Hub, but it’s very fuzzy because it’s further out in time. It could happen in as soon as thirty-eight months and as late as eighty-seven months from now. The second of those dates is when we expect the final streams to close.”
“What will be the last stream to close?”
“Right now our prediction models have the stream to End closing sometime between eighty and eighty-seven months from now.”
“You carry all these numbers in your head?” the emperox asked.
“Not all of them,” Marce confessed. “Just the ones I thought you would ask me about. I have fifteen minutes with you, ma’am. I wanted to be efficient.”
“Do you find it at all ironic that End has the first Flow stream to collapse, and also might have the last?”
“It’s not ironic, ma’am, it’s coincidental. But I’m happy it’s likely to be the case. I want to be able to go home.”
The emperox gave Marce a look. “You traveled for the better part of a year without knowing whether or not you’d get a meeting with me.”
“Begging your pardon, but I wasn’t expecting to have a meeting with you at all. I was expecting your father. My condolences to you, also, ma’am.”