Flicking dust from his sleeve, general Indigo Jaxx adjusts a dagger at his hip and then ruins everything by tugging at the collar of his uniform. He is a general in the Death’s Head, for heaven’s sake.
No, Indigo Jaxx shakes his head.
He’s the general.
His regiment is the emperor’s chosen force. Empire ministers fall silent at his approach. Colonels sacrifice entire brigades to win his approval. Men offer their wives, so their sons might find places on his staff.
It is absurd to be nervous, but he is. OctoV has that effect on him.
The beloved leader has that effect on everyone. Stiffening to attention, General Jaxx waits for his emperor to appear in a swirl of static, with words that will scour the inside of his skull like a hot desert wind.
Come on, thinks General Jaxx. Please. Get this over with.
As he prepares for his mind to be invaded, someone opens the office door behind him and the general turns, cold fury on his lips.
‘Is this a bad time?’
The questioner is in his early teens. He wears a green cavalry uniform with a jewelled sword and has ringlets falling to his shoulders. His hair is blond, but it is his eyes that people notice. They are the blue of deep space and just as empty.
Indigo Jaxx blinks.
‘I said . . .’
‘No, sir,’ says the general, standing straighter. ‘Absolutely not.’
OctoV smiles. ‘I’m so glad,’ he says. ‘I wanted to congratulate you.’
The general goes still.
‘Really,’ says OctoV. ‘Producing victory from defeat . . . Having produced defeat from victory. That’s subtle, even for me.’ He nods towards the general’s Obsidian Cross. ‘I’d give you another medal, but clearly you’ve got them all. What is it now?’
‘Imperial knight, grand master, sir. With extra palm leaves and bar.’
‘Very impressive.’
General Jaxx is being mocked. Given the other choices, he is happy to get off that lightly.
‘Well,’ says OctoV. ‘I must go.’
Now it comes, thinks the general, as he watches the boy head for the door. He tries not to tense as OctoV turns back.
‘By the way,’ OctoV says. ‘What’s he doing now?’
Who? The general thinks desperately. What is who doing now? ‘Do you mean Sven, sir?’
‘Yes,’ says OctoV. ‘Of course I do. What is Sven doing now?’
The general swallows. ‘We’re lending him to the U/Free.’
His imperial highness OctoV, glorious leader, the undefeated, eternal ruler of more worlds than can be counted, laughs. It strips General Jaxx’s skull and reduces his self-control to tatters. Around him, the walls of his office begin to spin.
‘You have the best ideas,’ says his emperor. ‘Keep me up to date.’
Indigo Jaxx wants to say, Yes, sir. Of course, sir. But he is on his knees vomiting. So OctoV walks through the nearest wall with the general’s words unspoken.