Relief. Even with her empathy dulled, she saw it on the living counselors’ faces. They were glad someone had spoken against the Emperor’s plan.

And they were glad it hadn’t been them.

The sovereign looked at her coolly, his expression unreadable now. His gray young face seemed as remote as the night sky. But she knew that someday there would be a price for her action. Nara Oxham had crossed the Emperor.

“A vote, then,” he said quietly.

“Can we have more time?” Ax Milnk asked.

The Emperor shook his head. He had calculated this to the minute, had left revelation of the plan until time was too short for discussion. His best opportunity was now, before the horror of the idea could sink in.

“There is little time,” he said. “The Lynx might be dead in hours. The Rix battlecruiser will be within transmission range a few days later.”

“Give us those days, then,” Oxham asked. Her voice sounded hollow in her ears.

“The lightspeed delay between Legis and the Lynx, Senator,” the admiral said, shaking her head. “Round trip several times, to be sure. We have only hours to decide.”

“And the earlier the space-raid warning is sounded, the fewer casualties will result,” the general said. “More medical personnel can be standing by. Grounded aircars will have time to bring their passengers to populated areas rather than depositing them in the wild. We owe the population of Legis a quick decision.”

Their arguments were illogical, Nara knew. The Apparatus could sound a raid warning in any case, and wait for a final decision. They could have prepared the planet for this over the last few days. The Emperor had simply chosen to spring this on the council, to grind their will against an artificial emergency. But she was too dizzy to make these arguments, to bring specific points against the steam-roller that the Emperor had created. Her stomach roiled now, the first sign of a mild apathy overdose. Nara’s blind fingers had unleashed too sharp a dose of the drug after all the days she had kept her sensitivity high. Her empathy was absolutely flat, her body barely able to function.

Council sessions had been called at odd hours for ten days. They were all exhausted; the Emperor had wanted them that way.

Senator Oxham gritted her teeth in anger. She had been outmaneuvered by the sovereign, betrayed by the weakness of her own psyche.

“A vote, then,” she said. “I say no. ‘No killing of worlds.’”

There was a gasp from someone. She had quoted the Compact, the old document that a few gray worlds interpreted as validating Emperor’s authority. He smiled at her coldly.

“I vote yes,” he said. The Emperor leaned back, supremely confident.

The War Council almost stopped him.

The Expansionist and Utopian senators voted against the action, as Oxham had known they would. And Ax Milnk showed unexpected strength, joining the opposition senators against the Emperor.