"I don't feel so good, Esquire. All that food and drink at the 
 Autarch's table---and then, that museum of prideful horrors." 

 The Templars were moving down a hallway on the second floor of the 
 castle keep. They were escorted by one of Capt. Caneena's dogmen, who 
 never once relaxed his watchful gaze, as if he expected the visitors 
 might attempt to steal one of the many heirlooms on display. 

 "Bear up, kid. It could get worse." 

 Fergus mumbled, "I don't see how." 

 As they moved down the hall, they took notes by speaking them into 
 microphone masks that carried their remarks to belt-mounted portacomps 
 which transcribed them into report-ready language. The guard-escort 
 strained to hear their remarks, but the masks were designed to 
 frustrate such eavesdropping. 

 As they approached the ornamental wooden door to a bedroom suite, it 
 opened, and Princess Enola leaned against the doorframe in a languid 
 pose, staring at the approaching men. She had a twisted smile and 
 spoke in a voice which dripped with sensuality. 

 "You two look like a couple of asthmatics holding those things on your 
 faces." Without waiting for a response from the Templars, she said, 
 "I need improved security in my rooms. How about checking me out?" 
 The significance of her request did not escape them. 

 Minaker removed his mikemask and quickly ordered his apprentice, 
 "I'll handle this, kid. Why don't you work on the museum and the 
 corridor? We can finish this floor, later." 

 Fergus amiably accepted his journeyman's opportunism. It verified 
 some of the anecdotes he'd heard about him back at Temple Jerusalem. 

 "The museum?... Okay, I'll give it another check." 

 "Good. See ya later." Enola stepped back to admit the Esquire to her 
 chambers. As she closed the door, she winked at Fergus. 

 ("Not me, babe... I'll leave your `security' to Yosi the Great.") 

 "Take me to the museum," he ordered the guard. The dogman displayed 
 the sharp teeth in his long muzzle in a half-human smirk. "As you 
 wish, sir," he replied, while guessing otherwise of the Templar. 

                              *  *  * 

 "The Autarch expects to fill this floor with exhibits like those 
 upstairs. But now, it's just used for storage." 

 Fergus and the dogman stood in the unfinished basement of the museum. 
 Some boxes were stacked in a corner of the big underroom, but it was 
 otherwise unused. The gray concrete walls were damp in places where 
 ground water had permeated them.... Fergus spoke into his mikemask. 

 "Okay. Let's go back upstairs." 

 As they passed the museum's exhibits, Fergus stared studiously ahead, 
 trying not to look at the Autarch's horrific collection arrayed neatly 
 in the cases. His escort continued to show his teeth at the visitor's 
 obvious repugnance. 

 In the armor-lined corridor, he stopped to check one of the ancient 
 suits. He tested the suit by pulling it toward him; it was securely 
 mounted. Then, he lifted the helmet visor. Its hinges were lubricated, 
 and the visor moved quietly. He stood on tiptoes and stuck his hand 
 down into the suit. The guard frowned. 

 As Fergus was feeling around the interior of the suit, he heard the 
 guard snap to attention by clicking his boot-heels. 

 "You can try it on, if you like, Brother Fergus." The deep voice of 
 the Autarch Kameroni boomed out in the narrow hallway. 

 Fergus pulled out his hand and dusted it off with his other, somewhat 
 ostentatiously, as he faced the castle's master. 

 "Good morning, Your Majesty." He gave a little bow to cover his 
 embarrassment. 

 "Let me guess: you're going to recommend that I weld that visor shut." 

 Fergus hesitated. "Well, sir..." He stepped down from the suit's 
 mounting and moved closer to the Autarch. The dogman moved closer 
 to him. 

 "Yes...? Give me your honest recommendation, Brother Templar." 

 "I'm concerned that someone could put an explosive charge in one of 
 these steel suits, sir. Such an explosion would be devastating to 
 anyone passing by.... I recommend that the armor display items be 
 checked frequently with sonic probes to make sure they're empty." 

 "Your `someone' would have to get in here, first. The walls are one 
 meter of solid granite blocks---and, as you can see, there are no 
 windows here or in the museum." 

 "Yes sir, that's true.... But, according to the blueprints I saw, the 
 foundation walls of the museum are only a few centimeters of ordinary 
 ferroconcrete, being of a modern load-bearing design. They could be 
 breached fairly easily with a diamond electrodrill." 

 The Autarch scowled. "From where? The museum is in the outer yard. 
 Capt. Caneena's men patrol there constantly, and their hearing is 
 very acute---right, Sergeant?" He glanced at the escorting guard. 

 "Yes, Sire. Quite acute." he replied. 

 "That's good, Your Majesty. But we Templars prefer to view security 
 situations from a worst-case viewpoint.... I'd feel a lot better if 
 geophones were installed in the museum's basement walls to detect 
 underground tampering, outside." 

 "Geophones?..." said Kameroni, shaking his head. "Well, I guess I'm 
 paying for the best security evaluation available, and that's what 
 I'm going to get.... Put that in your report and I'll consider it." 

 Fergus was relieved. After viewing the museum's horrors, he preferred 
 to deal with the tyrant of Tristia as if he were walking on eggs. He 
 was surprised at the man's apparent acceptance of what he must have 
 felt was an unnecessary recommendation. 

 "Thank you, sir." 

 The Autarch nodded. "By the way, where is Esquire Yosi?" 

 A little frisson of fear raced through Fergus' nervous system. He 
 feared the consequences of lying to his client, but he also feared 
 for his journeyman's safety. He chose his words carefully. 

 "Uh... he was invited to check the security of Princess Enola's 
 quarters, sir." 

 A smile formed on Autarch Kameroni's lips. "I understand," he said. 
 Then, he turned and walked slowly back up the corridor toward the 
 keep. "If you need me, I'll be in my office." 

                        Perception and Reality  

 Early next day, Fergus was standing by a window in his guestroom when 
 Minaker entered without knocking. 

 "Man, you won't believe the great time I had!" 

 "You stayed the rest of yesterday and all night, evaluating the 
 Royal Princess' situation." He stared at Minaker disapprovingly. 

 "That girl has her own harem.... Yes, a harem of women beholden to her 
 whims, and---believe me---she has some bizarre whims. She and her gals 
 really wore me out," he boasted. "She isn't exactly what we thought 
 she was." 

 "I hope you had a good time, Esquire Yosi. Yesterday, the Autarch 
 found me in the corridor to the museum and wanted to know where you 
 were. I had to tell him.... He ran right off to the museum. Said he 
 had to `get an ancient device out of its case.'" 

 "What?!" The remark transformed Minaker's face. 

 "Just kidding.... Don't worry. He said he understood.... He didn't 
 seem to care that you were probably bonking his daughter." 

 Minaker relaxed. "Well, I guess he isn't worried I'll propose to Ms. 
 Enola," he remarked, dryly. "But just to make sure, I'll finish the 
 second floor by myself this afternoon to make it seem I belong there. 
 You go over the museum again." He left the room to hasten downstairs. 

 ("Oh, great. Another day in the chamber of horrors,") thought Fergus 
 quietly, assuming his room was bugged. 

                              *  *  * 

 The next morning, Fergus again stood at his window while he awaited 
 the arrival of Minaker. 

 From his top-floor guestroom, he had a sweeping view of the inner yard 
 of the castle. He could see the museum and its connecting corridor. 
 Nearby were some of the other outbuildings: the standby powerhouse, 
 the stables, the greenhouse. 

 The large plastiglass-roofed greenhouse was closest to the museum. 
 Adjoing it, was a walled garden for nursery plants. Soil was piled 
 up against the garden walls.... Fergus moved his gaze to the stables 
 for few seconds.... Suddenly, he shifted it back to the garden. 

 "Soil." He mused, aloud. "A lot of new soil piled up, recently." He 
 stared at the yellowish earth---then, realized what he was seeing. 

 "Subsoil," he said. "Damn! It's subsoil!" 

 He ran from the room into the hallway and yelled at the guard outside. 
 "Take me to the Autarch's office, please. It's important." 

 He completely forgot to consult Esquire Yosi on the matter. 

                              *  *  * 

 "Subsoil?... What does that mean?" 

 The Autarch pushed back from his data-terminal in his highback chair 
 and stared at the young Templar who stood before the ornate mahogany 
 desk. Morning sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the 
 ground-floor office illuminated the scene. Through one of the tall 
 windows, Fergus could see the greenhouse and its garden wall. 

 He couldn't believe Kameroni was so dense. 

 "Sir, it means someone's been digging deep into the ground. The 
 nursery garden, itself, is all dark topsoil.... Do you know of any 
 recent deep excavation on the castle grounds?" 

 The tyrant rubbed his bearded chin. "No... But I did ask my resident 
 engineer about tunneling into the museum basement, and he said that 
 was quite unlikely. Besides, all the workers in the castle have been 
 investigated and pronounced trustworthy." 

 ("The `trustworthy' people are the ones you have to watch, man.") 

 "Your Majesty. If someone is digging a tunnel from the greenhouse to 
 the museum, they can just pile the soil in the walled nursery garden. 
 It's the perfect place. The greenhouse is less than twenty meters 
 from the museum. They could start the tunnel from there." 

 "What does Esquire Yosi think about your theory?" 

 "Uh... I haven't discussed it with him, yet. He's still working on the 
 second floor." 

 "I'll bet he is," commented the Autarch. He hesitated, as if he felt 
 too uncertain to take action on Fergus' information. 

 "I tell you what: I'll have Capt. Caneena search the greenhouse for 
 any signs of a tunnel. As I recall, it does have a basement of some 
 kind." He tapped a key on his data-terminal. Caneena appeared on the 
 screen, and received his orders. The Captain immediately left his 
 station to investigate, though without much enthusiasm. He viewed 
 the Templars as hired intruders. 

 "Now, do you feel better, Brother Fergus?" Kameroni's smile showed he 
 wasn't reconciled to the Templar's sudden bright idea. 

 "Yes, sir... But I should point out that, if there is a conspiracy 
 to tunnel into the museum basement, and the conspirators hear about 
 my discovery of their soil heaps, they might rush things." 

 "We'll have to take that chance, won't we?" Then, the Autarch began 
 to regale Brother Fergus with irrelevant anecdotes of his escapes 
 from assassination, most of which had occurred years ago, and none 
 of which had happened here in his castle. 

 CRASH!! 

 A window broke in a shower of genuine, jagged glass, as three men 
 smashed their way through it with pick, hoe, and pruning shears. 
 They quickly gained entry and stood, seeking their bearings.... 
 Their deadly-serious intent was not at all theoretical. 

 Fergus rushed around the desk to stand between the assassins and their 
 target, who remained seated. The Templar held out his arms, as if to 
 shield his Order's client. He did this without considering his own 
 safety because it seemed the right thing to do. 

 The men advanced toward the Autarch and his youthful protector. 
 They didn't get far. 

 The Autarch tapped keys on his terminal---Fergus heard the clicking, 
 and for a moment he thought it an odd action, given the perilous 
 circumstances.... He was wrong. It was the only thing to do. 

 From a ring of concealed jets in the floor, a mixture of smoke and 
 teargas gushed into the room, screening the Autarch from view and 
 painfully closing the eyes of the assassins, who reached the desk 
 just in time to feel the full force of the hissing gas. 

 The noxious cloud of protective aerosol enveloped Brother Fergus, too. 
 He pawed at his eyes and fell to the floor, helpless to do anything 
 but grovel and moan with pain. 

 As Fergus and the assassins writhed, the Autarch Kameroni escaped 
 clean away when a pneumatic ram swiftly lowered his chair into a 
 basement well, then closed the opening with a gasketed plate. 

 Before he lost consciousness, Fergus' last thought was one of 
 annoyance that Esquire Yosi Minaker wasn't there to share his 
 "security" experience. 

                           Hero and Prophet  

 "I present to Brother Templar Fergus Sinclair the Medal of Merit, 
 Tristia's highest civilian award, for his courageous attempt to 
 forestall an attack upon my person." The Autarch pinned the golden 
 medal to Fergus' hospital gown. "Your action was in the finest 
 traditions of the Order of Knights Templar." 

 "I'm honored, Your Majesty," said Fergus through the bandages which 
 skillfully covered his face, neck, and hands. He was in the process 
 of recovering his sight and healing his burns after the gas attack 
 on the assassins which he had found himself in the middle of. 

 "And Esquire Yosi has something to tell you." He stepped back from 
 Fergus' bed in the castle infirmary and motioned the journeyman to 
 approach. 

 "Brother, it's my pleasure to inform you that you've been promoted 
 to the rank of Esquire Templar for your meritorious service on behalf 
 of our distinguished client, the Autarch Kameroni. This notice was 
 personally promulgated by Grand Master bon Jaldwin." 

 Esquire Yosi's flat intonation was the most enthusiastic he could 
 muster to inform the younger Templar of his swift promotion to the 
 same rank he himself had held for many years. 

 "Thanks, Yosi." 

 The Autarch's presentation was not yet complete. 

 "My surgeon assures me you'll be as good as new in a couple of weeks, 
 Esquire Fergus.... Now, in the matter of the tunnel you projected: 
 you were correct in every respect. My Head Gardner, Ennis Hortu, 
 was the leader of the conspiracy. He and his assistants formed an 
 assassination team and dug the tunnel. Your discovery of those piles 
 of subsoil caused them to have to act, prematurely." 

 "Good work, kid," remarked Minaker, begrudgingly. 

 "In fact, I'm going now to my museum to install a new exhibit. I'm 
 replacing old Minnigerode in his container with Hortu. You'll have to 
 come around and see it, later. He'll be holding his hoe in one hand. 
 It should make a most dramatic display.... Of course, I'll have to 
 process him, first. I'm sorry you can't attend the installation, but 
 I want you to get well." He paused and looked around at Minaker. 

 "Join me, Esquire Yosi. Then, you can describe the ceremony to your 
 colleague." 

 Minaker looked as if *he* had been hit with a hoe. "Well, uh..." 

 "Just a thought," amended the Autarch. "You don't have to. I'm sure 
 my daughter hasn't quite finished with you, yet." 

 "Well, sir, I do have another message to give our hero from Grand 
 Master bon Jaldwin. It's rather detailed." Minaker's lie was apparent 
 to all present in the white-painted recovery room. But the Autarch 
 chose to let it pass. It was also apparent to him that not all 
 Templars were made of the same heroic material. 

 "Very well. I'll see you, later." He moved toward the doorway, but 
 stopped and turned. "We'll have another banquet before you leave for 
 Terranova." Then, he was gone. 

 "Nice footwork, Yosi," said Fergus through his bandages. 

 "Damn right, kid. I couldn't see myself witnessing one of the old 
 boy's museum `installations.' Not even on an empty stomach. But he 
 was right about Enola. She does want me back in her quarters." Yosi's 
 boasting went unappreciated by his injured apprentice. "Besides, I 
 have to write up our security evaluation." 

 Fergus fingered his new medal with his bandage-mittened hands. 

 "Don't worry about me. Unlike Minnigerode, I only hurt when I laugh." 

                           Self-Fulfilling Prophecy  

 Head Gardner Hortu awaited his installation in the museum. He knew 
 he would soon be Exhibit No. 1, but he had the satisfaction of also 
 knowing that his team of assassins weren't the only persons in Castle 
 Kameroni plotting the death of its master. He hadn't been told who 
 the others were, but he'd been assured they were also active. 

 They were. 

 As Autarch Kameroni and Capt. Caneena sauntered down the corridor 
 to the museum, a proximity device---newly-installed near one of the 
 ancient suits of armor---detected them. 

 The device initiated a long cylinder of molded plastic explosive, 
 which had been inserted into the superbly-fabricated steel suit 
 through its helmet visor. 

 The blast wave of the explosion shattered the suit of armor into many 
 fragments, and sent them many of them flying toward the two men at 
 high velocity. The collision of these fragments with their bodies was 
 reinforced a few milliseconds later by that portion of the wave which 
 was reflected from the thick granite wall. 

 Thus, a long and bloody reign ended, appropriately, in much blood. 

                              *  *  * 

 The remains of the former Autarch were gathered into a large stainless 
 steel kitchen pot and temporarily stored in the walk-in refrigerator 
 for later interment within a marble mausoleum in Inoremak---as was 
 provided for in his will. In his honor, the name of the capital city 
 was reversed, again, to `Kameroni.' 

 Capt. Caneena's remains were fed to his men at a ceremonial dinner. 
 This grisly practice, although customary among dogmen, was unknown 
 to the moralists of Terranova---most of whom were even unaware that 
 dogmen were real, and not merely a genetic possibility. 

                              *  *  * 

 The explosion was heard by Brother Fergus, lying in his infirmary bed. 
 He was overheard by the on-duty nurse to moan loudly, "Oh, no!" With 
 his heavily-bandaged hand, he tore off his new medal and threw it to 
 the floor. 

 It was heard by Esquire Yosi, Princess Enola, and the harem girls on 
 the second floor of the keep.... Yosi immediately dressed, left the 
 room, and completed his client-report---which recommended frequent 
 sonic probing of the armor displays in the museum access corridor. 
 He back-dated the report to the previous day before he transmitted 
 copies to Kameroni's office and to Temple Jerusalem on Terranova. 

 And, of course, it was heard---with satisfaction---by Head Gardner 
 Hortu, awaiting installation in his plastiglass container. The air 
 in the container had not yet been evacuated, so the the blast wave 
 which surged into the museum and rocked his container came through 
 to his ears, undiminished. 

 It was not heard by Crown Prince Mollis, who was waiting on a nearby 
 planet for what he believed to be inevitable: that `Pater's' Templar 
 security consultants would reveal to his enemies the means of killing 
 him.... He was contacted by the surviving authorities on Tristia, 
 and he began his return---quite pleased that he would not have to 
 matriculate at a faraway school---but somewhat apprehensive at the 
 stark realization that *he* was now the Autarch Kameroni. 

 As the ancient Knights Templar might have summarized this adventure: 
 

                       SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI. 
 
                  (Thus passes away the glory of a world.)   * 
  
 

Illustration copyright ©1998 by Romeo Esparrago <romedome@aol.com>