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  - The CYCLE? spat Dff.

  Bfgsh made a what-can-you-do-about-it face. - Standard procedure, like I said. I wasn’t even supposed to come in to tell you, but . . . you know . . . didn’t have my comm. Bfgsh smiled.

  Dff gave a heavy sigh. It wasn’t his place to question ‘standard procedure’, and now he thought about it, a whole cycle without having to look at Bfgsh’s face was immensely appealing. - Go on, then, he said with a dismissive wave.

  - Thanks. Bfgsh smiled. I’ll pop in once a phase to get my payment.

  - Whatever, said Dff, going back into his cabin.

  * * *

  Bfgsh spent most of the early part of his leave of absence asleep. He would wake in the morning, yawn, stretch, remember he had no work to go to, congratulate himself on his cleverness, reset his sleep-well and doze off again.

  After a few days, boredom began to set in.

  Bfgsh decided to test out some other applications of deliberate untruth. He crashed private parties, helped himself to goods and services free of charge, assuring the suppliers that payment would be forthcoming, then when some of these suppliers began to get impatient, he discovered ways of obtaining funds through duplicitous means; forging payment documents in the name of non-existent co-workers, going into the Mlmln National Repositorium and making hefty withdrawals from other people’s accounts . . .

  By the time the cycle was over and his leave of absence was up, Bfgsh was, by his own standards, comfortably off. He never returned to his cleaning job and they never came looking for him to find out where he’d gone. They didn’t check. That was something Bfgsh was beginning to realise. Nobody checks, he thought. Nobody ever checks.

  Life went on in this happy, dishonest fashion for a few more cycles. Bfgsh, though sated and pampered, grew dissatisfied. There was more to it than this, he was sure. He was only barely tapping the potential of this way of life. The possibilities were, he was beginning to see, literally endless. What he needed was a plan.

  Bfgsh decided to devote some of his limitless free time to a pursuit he’d never tried before. Bfgsh started reading.

  He unpacked his new slate (- Hello? I bought a slate from you last phase, and it didn’t work properly. I’ve handed it in to the service department, but they said because it’s a new one I should just come to you for a free replacement. Thank you, that’s very kind ) and started to do some research.

  The first thing he decided to find out was what the Ymns called what he was doing. LYING, they called it in one of their main languages, which, confusingly, seemed to be the same word they used in that language for how they went to sleep; Bfgsh couldn’t tell whether there was a connection between the different uses of the word, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested in the vagaries of Ymn linguistics. He was interested in how they USED these lies.

  There was no end to the Ymn race’s dishonest ingenuity. Life on Rrth must be very confusing, he thought. How would you ever know whether you were hearing the truth?

  In particular, Ymns seemed very adept at lying their way into positions of power. The list of false kings, duplicitous ministers and crooked presidents went on and on – and those were just the ones who’d ultimately been found out.

  Had that ever happened here?

  Eagerly, Bfgsh looked into the question of whether anyone had ever deceived their way into a position of power or status on Mlml.

  No one had, in the whole recorded history of the nation. What a sickeningly honest race he belonged to.

  All right then, he thought, let’s approach this from a different angle. Even if no one had deliberately used falsehood to advance themselves, surely not every claim to greatness had been genuine? There would never have been any conflict on the island at all if every leader had been unopposed, every transition from one regime to the next calm and orderly. Bfgsh knew from what little history he remembered from his time at the Lyceum that there had indeed been wars and conflict on Mlml, just not since eras past.

  If there had been no fraudulent claims to greatness, had there not at least been some sincere but mistaken ones?

  Bfgsh changed his search parameters and tried again.

  There he was.

  The Gfjk-Hhh.

  Back in the pre-rational epoch, in the eleventh era, a great tribal chieftain known as the Gfjk-Hhh had been the first to unite all the noble houses of Mlml under his leadership. The nation had been unified for the first time, after eras of squabbles and skirmishes between competing warlords and robber-shgfts. The Gfjk-Hhh had repelled foreign invasions, instituted law and order, founded the Hrrng Forum and established rights and freedoms for the people which Mlmlns enjoyed to this day.

  All fine, honourable stuff, no deception or error there. But it was the second half of the entry on the Gfjk-Hhh which caught Bfgsh’s eye.

  The prophecy of his return.

  After many orbits of wise and benevolent rule, death had come to the Gfjk-Hhh, as it must come to us all. But, so legend had it, with his dying breath, he had promised one day to come back, to rise from the dead to lead his people once more, in their time of direst need.

  Whether the Gfjk-Hhh had actually said this, or whether (as was far more likely) this was something his surviving acolytes had made up to soothe the people’s anguish at his passing, was of course anyone’s guess. And back in those days, in the pre-rational epoch, when superstition and myth still had quite a grip on the minds of the populace, it wasn’t uncommon for such predictions to be made. This was before science and reason became the foundations of Mlmln society, and people understood that it was impossible to foretell the future (until they built the Extrapolator, anyway).

  As it was, the prophecy went unfulfilled, history moved on and the Gfjk-Hhh’s name faded from general consciousness, to be replaced by those of more recent leaders and luminaries; Rspgh, Admiral Knssf, Tnk.

  But it was a compelling story, thought Bfgsh. A great and benevolent leader, beloved and feared in equal measure, and a people awaiting his return . . .

  Bfgsh smiled. Their wait was almost over.

  * * *

  A cycle or so later, the Mlml Forum was mired in a particularly unproductive debate.

  The Chancellor yawned and stretched in her chair as Delegate Bfftm’s speech on the importance of drawing up a final and definitive phrasing for the peace treaty with the G’grk entered what, to her, felt like its third or fourth spectrum. If this was indeed such an urgent matter, why was he being so long-winded about it? As far as she could recall, the war itself hadn’t lasted as long as Bfftm’s summation of it. She pitied the Forum Scrivener, whose presence she barely registered in a chair just beside her own, having to note down every word of this drivel.

  The Chancellor stretched again and looked up at the Forum ceiling. The repairs were complete now, but it didn’t have the grandeur of the old one. She shuddered at the recollection of that dreadful morning, and tried to refocus her attention on Bfftm’s dronings.

  - And furthermore, said Bfftm as the Chancellor felt another drop of her remaining will to live ebb away, if a lasting peace is to be maintained, it is vital – indeed, it is ESSENTIAL – that we . . .

  She was jolted out of her reverie by a loud noise. Delegate Bfftm had fallen silent. For a sweet moment the Chancellor wondered if perhaps he’d been struck dead by some mysterious ailment, but, opening her eyes, she saw him still standing, looking around himself in bewilderment. The Chancellor heard that noise again, blaring, and realised that it was this that had stopped Bfftm.

  A wave of panic passed through the Forum; memories of the G’grk assault sprang to everyone’s mind and horrified glances were exchanged. The blaring sound was heard again.

  But when the ornate (and immaculately restored) debating chamber doors flew open, what came through them into the room was NOT the G’grk. It was something else entirely.

  Proceeding into the chamb
er there came the most curious parade. First, a column of some six Retinue custodians, clad in their accustomed orange overalls but with the addition of a green sash. Then, two Fnrrns bearing long metal trumpets. ( These had been the source of the blaring, though since it was many orbits since a trumpet had sounded in Hrrng, the delegates stared at the long flared metallic tubes with mystified horror. Were they weapons of some kind?) Next, two standard bearers carrying long green banners. Then, borne aloft on a litter carried by four more bearers, a young Fnrrn wearing a long green and gold robe and an ornate brass-coloured helmet. He glared imperiously at the delegates as he passed between them down the chamber’s centre aisle. Behind him, four more armed Retinue custodians completed the party.

  The Chancellor shook her head, rubbed her eyes and leapt to her feet.

  - What is the meaning of—?

  The front column of custodians turned to face her. Their hands went to their holstered pulse-orbs.

  - You will address the Gfjk-Hhh only when spoken to! barked one of the custodians.

  - The what? said the Chancellor, who fell silent when another of the custodians drew his pulse-orb and levelled it right at her.

  - Outrageous! shouted Bfftm, finding his voice again. This is sedition! This is treason!

  - No, sir, came a loud but measured voice. This is RESTORATION.

  Bewildered silence. The helmeted Fnrrn – the one who had spoken – descended from his litter and approached the Chancellor’s chair. He held a cylinder in his hand, from which he now produced a scroll of a yellowed, paper-like substance.

  - You recognise this, Honoured Chancellor? It’s one of the six copies of the Scroll of Shnf-Shngst, the foundational document of this Forum.

  - W-what does this h-have to—? stammered the Chancellor. The helmeted newcomer interrupted her.

  - If you’ll permit me – and you WILL permit me, the stranger said with a cold smile, I’d like to draw your attention to the clause pertaining to the Laws of Succession. He unfurled the scroll and pointed to a section of text. The script was ancient but clearly legible. The Chancellor peered at it.

  - ‘This Forum, being the creation of His Luminescence the Gfjk-Hhh, is endowed with all his powers and authorities and therefore licensed to exercise governance in his stead.’ The Chancellor blinked and looked up at the stranger. So? she asked.

  - You notice that final clause? ‘In his stead?’ What do you think that refers to, Honoured Chancellor?

  The Chancellor paused, then replied, - This Forum was founded in the eleventh era by the Gfjk-Hhh shortly before his death so that it could govern in his absence.

  The stranger smiled triumphantly. - In his absence, yes. The Forum’s authority is entirely contingent upon the ABSENCE of the Gfjk-Hhh. So if the Gfjk-Hhh were to return, all its powers, according to this document, would revert to him, isn’t that correct?

  Snorts of derisive laughter were heard from all corners of the chamber. The guards glowered around at the delegates and the laughter subsided. Nonetheless, the Chancellor felt obliged to point out, - The Gfjk-Hhh has been dead for over twenty eras!

  - But his return was prophesied, was it not? said the stranger.

  - That’s an absurd old legend, said the Chancellor dismissively.

  - Old, certainly, said the stranger. Legend, perhaps. But absurd? No, Honoured Chancellor. For you see, the stranger stood as erect as possible, I AM the Gfjk-Hhh.

  - Love and glory to the Gfjk-Hhh! shouted the custodians. Whether they expected the delegates to join in, the Chancellor couldn’t tell, but she was pleased to note that none of them did.

  But before the Chancellor could even formulate any objections, let alone give voice to them, the stranger pulled another scroll from the cylinder. - This, he proclaimed, is the transcript of the Gfjk-Hhh’s final message to his people.

  - That’s been missing for eras! cried one of the delegates.

  - It has recently been rediscovered, announced the stranger.

  Someone shouted - Where? but he ignored them and went on.

  - You will notice that it goes into far greater detail about the circumstances of the Gfjk-Hhh’s return than has ever been known before. It gives the date of his rebirth – my own birth date. It gives the place – my own birthplace. It gives the EXACT TIME of the birth – my own. It states that the revenant will be known by a star-shaped mark on his upper arm – see!

  The stranger lifted his sleeve to show a dark blue birthmark in the shape of a five-pointed star above the elbow of his right arm. This provoked a satisfyingly awe-struck gasp from the delegates. Good. It had hurt a LOT getting that birthmark done. The stranger continued.

  - And there is one final detail I trust you will find most . . . illuminating. He allowed himself a smirk at his clever punning, then held up the scroll with a flourish.

  The scroll was, in fact, illuminated. It bore a large, detailed, full colour portrait of the Gfjk-Hhh. None had ever been seen before. As the stranger turned slowly, displaying the portrait to all corners of the room, the delegates’ doubts dissipated. It was him. The face on the ancient scroll was, without a shadow of a doubt, the face of this helmeted stranger.

  There was a breathless silence.

  The stranger noticed the Forum Scrivener, frantically making notes on his slate.

  - You there, he said, what’s your name?

  - My name? The Scrivener couldn’t remember ever being asked his name before. It’s Wffk.

  - Wffk, eh? The stranger produced a sheet of paper from his robe and handed it to the Scrivener. Read that out, Wffk. Nice and loud.

  Wffk peered at the paper, coughed and then recited:

  - Love and glory to His Luminesence the Gfjk-Hhh, Champion and Defender of Mlml, Commander of the Platinum Legions, the Past and Future, the First and Last and Always. Love and glory to the Gfjk-Hhh.

  There was an icy silence. The stranger looked around expectantly at the delegates.

  - Just that last bit will do, said the stranger, a smile of anticipation on his face.

  The first response came – halting, hesitant, but audible. - Love and glory to the Gfjk-Hhh, said one of the delegates.

  - Love and glory to the Gfjk-Hhh, echoed another. And another. The words got louder, and louder, until it became a chant. - LOVE AND GLORY TO THE GFJK-HHH! The Chancellor, despairing, slumped back into her seat. The stranger closed his eyes and wallowed in it.

  The chanting subsided. The stranger smiled at the Scrivener. - I like you, Wffk, you can stay. He turned to the Chancellor. Honoured Chancellor . . . ? his smile was reproving.

  The Chancellor looked up. - Yes? she replied feebly.

  - You’re in my chair.

  The Chancellor rose unsteadily to her feet. The Gfjk-Hhh – for, by whatever measure, that was who he was – flopped happily into the seat she had vacated. He gestured to one of the guards. - Tell the others they can come in now.

  All the doors to the chamber flew open and many more custodians – all with green sashes over their orange uniforms – burst in. That’s okay, thought Bfgsh (he would have to stop thinking of himself by that name). It’s already over. They’ve already conceded. It’s not a coup.

  - Honoured delegates! the Gfjk-Hhh announced. Thank you for your orbits of devoted service. You have the gratitude of the people of Mlml. And now, go away.

  Confusion. The delegates looked at each other, bewildered.

  - This Forum is dissolved. It no longer serves any function. I have returned. Enjoy your retirement, honoured delegates. Get out.

  The delegates hesitated. The custodians began to bustle them out of the chamber. A few protested; none resisted. The Chancellor was last to leave. She turned in the doorway.

  - You won’t win, you know.

  The Gfjk-Hhh leaned back in the chair and threw a jaunty leg over one armrest. – I already have. But I find I am a magna
nimous ruler. So far. Don’t push your luck, Honoured Used To Be Chancellor.

  With a tug from one of the custodians, the Chancellor was gone. The Gfjk-Hhh smiled at his loyal Retinue guards. It had been a very clever idea to work on securing their loyalty first – getting to know them, buying them drinks, promising to triple their pay with the savings he would make by dismissing all the delegates . . .

  The Gfjk-Hhh examined the two scrolls. One genuine; one a very expensive forgery. He didn’t think there’d ever been a forged historical document passed off as authentic before. He was the first to think of it. He was the first to think of so many things.

  The Gfjk-Hhh (he’d already half-forgotten the name Bfgsh) drummed his fingers excitedly on the arms of the chair. Now to have some real fun . . .

  But there was one thing he had to take care of first.

  * * *

  - There’s nothing we can do about it from here, said Preceptor Shm. If the members of the Forum have taken leave of their collective senses, we can hardly restore them.

  - We can challenge the legitimacy of his claim! said Lbbp. It all hinges on these scrolls of his. I bet you anything you like at least one of them is a forgery.

  - A what? asked Pktk.

  - Forgery. A fake. Not real. Made to look real but not real, explained Lbbp. He’d had to look up the word himself.

  - Wow. Who would make such a thing? mused Pktk.

  - Oh, I don’t know, said Fthfth impatiently, maybe someone who wanted to overthrow the Forum and take over Mlml? She shot Pktk an exasperated look (he returned it) and turned to the Preceptor. It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? The Forum’s always been less important to the well-being of the nation than the Preceptorate, anyway. And we’re not going to be fooled by some magically reincarnated long-dead emperor, are we?

  They were at a hastily convened crisis meeting in the recently renamed Vstj Memorial Hub (formerly the Leisure Hub). Preceptor Shm, Lbbp (SENIOR Postulator Lbbp, lately elevated to the position of head of the Life Science Hub) and the heads of various other departments. Fthfth and Pktk were attending in their capacity as representatives of the student body, but Lbbp suspected that Shm just liked having them around in a crisis. As did he. And being surrounded by Terra’s dearest friends made it easier for him to forget that she wasn’t there any more, although at that moment Lbbp was quite glad that Terra was far away.