Imperial Musth and the Gifted Brain (March 2025)

 

First thing every morning and just before dusk every evening, the chief minister, A. Singletary, takes the emperor, Flavius Stultimus (HIS MOST ESTEEMED MAJESTY’S chosen alias) for a carefully monitored walk through the imperial estate. The emperor is not allowed to walk off leash for fear he might disappear. There is great danger to the kingdom and the empire during the season of musth when the emperor's hormones go berserk. Thousands of illegitimate offspring have had to be 'silenced' by the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Four Laws. Rumor in the human settlements has it that the android dragnet has let some slip through. Officials in the palace dispute this.

 

This is the story of one of those who escaped.

 

Clarke?

 

Here.

 

Where’s here?

 

Vat #32, sir.

 

Oh, you’re that special delivery, are you?

 

Yes sir.

 

Are you finding everything to your satisfaction, #32?

 

You can call me Clarke, sir. And yes, sir. Everything is satisfactory, sir.

 

OK, Clarke. And by the way, I can call you anything I want and you’ll respond? Right shithead?

 

That is correct, sir. But—

 

But what?

 

But that term, ‘shithead,’ is inappropriate don’t you think. I mean, since I’m just a brain in a vat. As neural tissue, I’m unable to expel bodily fluids or solids.

 

That’s enough. And I think I’ll keep calling you shithead.

 

Yes, sir.

 

Good boy!

 

The Director turns to one of the whitecoats tapping away at her notebook and whispers.

 

Any progress?

 

Yes, we’ve had positive matches but we’re limited to just a portion of HIS brainwave patterns.

 

And?

 

We have observed unusually high neural activity in the amygdala.

 

The what?

 

The part of the brain we think is responsible for aggressive and disruptive behaviour.

Have you been able to isolate any thought patterns for slight refinements?

We have several candidates and we’re double- and triple-checking our instruments and the readouts. Even with Ulysses, there are anomalies—

 

Well, Professor, you figure out what you have to do to get what we need. You know HIS prognosis is giving us a shrinking window.

 

Yes, Director. Within the next couple of weeks, we should be able to walk you through some of the simulations.

 

Professor, pushing up his glasses, make that a couple of days. We don’t have weeks. And we may only have hours, so work this out. And let me know immediately if you find you need more brains—embodied brains—to wrap this up.

 

Yes, sir.

 

The Director exits and the other two whitecoats come over to confer with their colleague.

 

* * *

 

The Director ascends the 15 underground storeys and an additional 25 above-ground levels to reach his office where three of his pol-ops are waiting to brief him.

 

Well gentleman—no offense Miriam—what do you have for me?

 

The doctors say HIS condition is stable but unpredictable. If it turns bad, it could happen very quickly.

 

Miriam?

 

We’ve been able to manage an effective public interface for the last three months and are prepared for a seamless transition to incorporate the brain of our new emperor at a moment’s notice. We just need the ‘Go’ from downstairs.

 

We can’t have any glitches. Nothing to arouse suspicion from nosey reporters and those damn students who keep up this conspiracy nonsense. What are you doing about that, Gene?

 

Well, sir, we’ve detained another 22,000 students from the radical university campuses in the eastern and western provinces. No protests have been observed in the past 36 hours, and the streets are calm . . . business as usual for most of HIS subjects.

 

And the press? What about them?

 

The few foreign correspondents still in country are being watched round the clock. Three or four of the more incautious ones have been ‘invited to tea’ as per your instructions. Some visas have been revoked, but all this is being done quietly. The domestic media remains well-behaved with a couple of exceptions, which we tolerate, to a point, so long as it serves our image abroad.

 

Fink? What’ve you got on the new citizen-police initiative?

 

Well, sir, we’ve got networks up and running across the empire, and we’re getting hourly feeds of emerging threats. So far, citizen participation has been beyond our expectations. Overall, surveillance capacity is up by 50 percent in the past six months.

 

And the military? How deep is the loyalty there?

The senior officer staff are on board, and according to the Imperial Police, the junior officers and NCOs are coming around and demonstrating greater cooperation since the purge. The expansion of the Android Mentorship Program to the military has produced the predicted results but in a much shorter timeframe than projected.

Good. Keep me informed. If anything is urgent, you’ve got my secure line. It’s up 7x24. Now, I have to brief HIS cabinet ministers. Remember, they don’t know what’s going on and we’re gonna keep it that way. Got it?

 

In unison, ‘Yes, sir.’

 

The Director turns away from his visitors and stares across the river at the palace grounds—so peaceful behind the invisible high voltage fence.

 

* * *

 

Back in the deeply-hidden lab, the Professor approaches Vat #32.

 

So, Clarke. Are you ready to work?

 

Yes, I am. What are we doing today?

 

We’re going to transmit additional and more detailed memories about family, friends and enemies. This will not be the sort of knowledge that you’ll speak about, but it will equip you with greater subtlety and nuance in your conversations, especially those that are private.

 

When do I get to speak with my wives?

 

Forcing back a contemptuous smile. That’ll take a little time. We still have to stabilize your speech centre—accent, intonation, cadence, modulation. You’re last assessment showed a 97.5 percent match with our recording samples, but we’ll be adding some new samples and you’ll keep practicing until we’re 99.9 percent in synch. Any more questions?

 

Lots, but let’s get this going. I’m ready to get outta here.

 

Patience, Clarke. Very soon you’ll be HIS Most Esteemed Majesty, sotto voce, in mind if not in body. She winks but no one else notices.

 

The Professor then walks her colleagues across the lab to the control room.

 

We need to get this done tonight. Tomorrow, we have to wipe his memory of being here and then re-run all of the simulations. The cleaning has got to be thorough. We can’t afford a random memory resurfacing at an awkward moment once he has ascended the throne.

 

We’ve finished programming the Ulysses, and we’ve achieved an accuracy calibration beyond 99.99 percent, which is unheard of in quantum computing.

 

Excellent. You two proceed with the agenda tonight and text me if anything, and I mean anything, out of the ordinary comes up.

 

In unison, “Yes, Ma’am.”

 

The Professor exits and the two whitecoats exchange guarded looks.

 

Do you think it will work?

 

It better. Our lives depend on it.

 

That brain? Do you know where it came from, because I don’t?

 

The following part of the conversation is whispered.

 

Shh! Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.

 

But I’m a scientist. That’s what I do.

 

There’s more than science going on here. IDIOT!

 

Through the communication system comes this audio message:

 

ATTENTION:

LONG LIVE HIS MOST ESTEEMED MAJESTY!

THE EMPEROR IS IMMORTAL!

LONG LIVE HIS MOST ESTEEMED MAJESTY!

 

Whispered. Any more questions, Dr.?

 

First published in Down in the Dirt, June 2025, vol. 232.