Chapter Two
My left buttock had fallen asleep.
I shifted my weight to my right hip and clenched my jaw to stifle a yawn. I couldn’t believe that the debating over my bill had been going on like this for the past five hours. Actually, that’s not true. I’d been sitting in on most of the Senate sessions over the past six months and I knew how heated the arguing could get. I also couldn’t help wondering what anyone following the events at home must be thinking as they saw their elected representatives behaving like belligerent school children. Of course, that’s assuming anyone was actually watching. The Senate broadcasts were at the bottom of the ratings chart.
Six months ago, when I had first been returned to the throne, just the opposite had been the case. The observer galleries had been packed for weeks as news crews televised everything taking place in the senate chamber. My uncle had barred the press from senate sessions years earlier. But as soon as I reversed that policy people clamored to get a view into the political processes that were shaping the nation.
There was also a sudden fascination with anything I did. It was understandable, given that I had suddenly returned from the dead, but a real pain in the ass. I couldn’t go anywhere without having a horde of reporters swarming after me and shouting questions. Since then, as things settled into a routine, public interest had slowly faded away. I didn’t blame people. Watching a parade of politicians drone on with their opinions about different proposals wasn’t exactly riveting entertainment. If I didn’t have to be here I wouldn’t be watching either.
Today however something I was personally invested in was up for discussion on the floor. Over the past few months I had put together a bill that I was calling the Public Works Initiative to help combat the rising unemployment rate throughout the kingdom. The impact of the pirate attacks on the interstellar shipping industry was sending serious ripples throughout the entire economy.
Gilead, like most of the other star nations, was struggling through one of the most severe economic recessions in history. While the situation hadn’t worsened since I had returned to the throne, things hadn’t gotten much better either. People needed a way to earn an income and my bill would help them do just that. I knew it wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was a start. Which is why I was annoyed about all of the objections that were being raised.
Most Senators were supporting the bill in its basic form, but opposition had cropped up over a number of specific items. The current issue under debate was whether or not people on public assistance should be required to work, as my bill stipulated. Opponents to the measure were describing the types of things I wanted people to do as ‘make work’. I considered it a way of teaching responsibility. I saw no reason for healthy, able bodied adults to sit around and collect a check without giving something back in exchange.
At several points during the day I had come close to stepping in and simply commanding the legislature to adopt my bill and move on. Remembering Morgan’s advice however, I held myself back and didn’t try to force the issue. He kept reminding me that it was important for me to understand opposing viewpoints if I were to govern effectively. It was also important to let the people see that I wasn’t expecting their elected representatives to behave like a bunch of compliant lap dogs who would simply rubber stamp anything I said. Of course, on the other side of the coin were the heated arguments that I then had to sit through while different senators competed with each other to enlighten us all with their insightful opinions.
Days like this could be mind numbing.
Dragging my attention back to what was happening on the floor, I listened briefly to the two senators who were trading thinly veiled insults and decided that I had heard enough. Nothing that had been said during the hours the bill had been up for discussion had changed my mind. If anything, I was more determined than ever to see it enacted.
I rose to my feet and all talking ceased.
“Senators,” I began as I swept my gaze around the room from atop my dais, “I have been listening to your reactions to this bill over the past several hours and I still remain committed to my original course. While we sit here and debate minutiae, there are people throughout our star systems that are at risk of losing everything they have worked a lifetime to achieve. Far too many of my subjects need a way to generate an income and this bill will accomplish that. Moreover, we need to begin to move away from this entitlement mindset the nation seems to have developed over the past several years. The government is not something that exists to bail people out of every problem that arises in their lives. While the Crown will never turn its back on those in need, it is my intention to put an end to this practice of simply paying people whenever they have fallen on hard times. People need to understand that they have to give something back in exchange for the aid they are receiving.”
I paused briefly, fixing my gaze on the one Senator I knew to be the primary architect of the movement opposing me. Hamilton Fiske had never gotten over being humiliated by me on the day I returned to power. Since then, he had taken every opportunity to be a thorn in my side.
Of course, I wouldn’t be in this situation at all if I had allowed Admiral Magnus to execute him six months ago as an enemy of the state. Although I had reversed my order at the last moment, no one but me knew how close I had come to actually allowing the firing squad to carry out their orders. The truth was that I detested Fiske. To me he represented everything that was wrong with our society.
Fortunately, most of the others gave him a wide berth. Fiske, along with a group of hard core right wingers who had also backed Sebastian’s actions when he occupied the throne, had become personae non gratae in the Senate. And ever since I had negated their appointments to the various Senate committees they used to sit on, they had the time to stir up trouble.
But that time was coming to an end. One way or another I was going to see some major changes in the Senate. Right now however I had more pressing matters demanding my attention. I held Fiske’s eyes for a moment longer then looked away, dismissing him from my thoughts like the minor irritant he was.
“The bottom line, ladies and gentlemen, is that I want action on this bill. Find a way to work out your problems and have something on my desk by the end of the week. I will be happy to consider any reasonable amendments you would like to propose which do not change the focus of what I am trying to accomplish, but keep in mind that the purpose of this bill is to get our economy moving again. Our people are hurting and I am determined to do whatever it takes to help get my subjects back on their feet.” I flicked a quick glance in Fiske’s direction and saw the venom in his eyes.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I finished.
Everyone stood and bowed as I made my way down the dais stairs and strode from the room.
As soon as I stepped out of the Senate Chamber I paused, giving myself some time to cool down. Behind me the marine guards on duty slowly closed the massive doors. Because the Senate was in session, this area of the capitol was closed to the general public and I found myself in a blissfully empty corridor, a rarity in the capitol. As I stood calming my nerves I wondered if I was cut out for politics. I didn’t seem to have the patience for all of the bull that was involved. More and more often I found myself wanting to cut through the layers of politically correct nonsense to get to the heart of the matter while everyone else seemed content to dance around whatever the issue was.
Maybe I should try to be like the more experienced politicians and move more slowly. Many of them had held their seats for more years than I had been living. That experience had to count for something. Then again, maybe it was time things got shaken up a little. The nation was going through difficult times. I needed solutions to some serious fiscal and social problems, and I needed them now. Maybe it was the established politicians who needed to have their trees rattled. Maybe they needed to be more aggressive in their thinking.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
With fifty star systems and billions of subjects to be responsible for, I didn’t like not being sure that I was doing the right thing. One thing I was certain of—if whatever I was doing upset Senator Fiske, then I had to be on the right track. I suppressed a chuckle at that thought.
Now that I had my temper under control I started toward the central rotunda. Then I remembered that the Libertarian Coalition was holding a rally at the capitol this afternoon. Their demonstrations always drew large crowds with heavy media coverage and the last thing I wanted right now was to have to talk to the press.
The Coalition was an interesting by product of modern society. Essentially they were a group that was dissatisfied with the boundaries imposed on individual behavior. They believed that people should have the complete freedom to behave however they wanted. Their core focus was usually vice issues. For years they had been advocating the legalization of prostitution, gambling and drugs. They had actually build up quite a following over time and some of their most vocal proponents were highly respected members of the intellectual community—college professors, scientists and mental health professionals. Unfortunately for them, they had trouble organizing themselves effectively. One of their pet bugaboos was a distrust of authority. They felt that giving one person the authority to make decisions for a group was oppressive. Therefore, everything they did was decided by committee, with each member having an equal voice. As a result it took them forever to get anything done. While their demonstrations always made for interesting tri-vid, they had little actual effect in the legislature.
Today’s rally was going to be a departure from their normal demonstrations. Recently they had added a new plank to their platform. Along with their focus on vice issues, the group had decided that public nudity was something that needed to be addressed. Personally I was more amused by this turn events than anything else. Most people’s bodies were not something I would want to see naked. I also doubted that health codes would allow people without clothing to sit on chairs in places of public assembly, especially where food was served. But if this was what they wanted to focus their energies on I had no objections.
Morgan was constantly chiding me for allowing the Coalition to hold their rallies at the capitol. But their paperwork was always in order, thanks to the high profile attorneys they kept on retainer, and there really was no legal reason for me to deny their requests. Besides, I actually found some of their arguments interesting, not that I had ever confessed that to Morgan. Today, however, I did not have the time for their moralistic posturing.
Since I didn’t want to be cornered by the reporters who were doubtless stalking the capitol corridors in search of a sound bite, I decided to avoid the public areas altogether and detoured toward the private, back hallways. It was a more roundabout route but one that allowed me to get back to my apartment undisturbed.
After making my way through a series of connected hallways for several minutes I finally emerged in the residential wing. Several strides later I was turning into the corridor that led to my private rooms. At the end of the hall I saw that Alan Thatcher was the protective service agent posted at the door. I could also tell that he was bored out of his mind. Although the duty agents’ shifts rotated every hour to keep them alert, I understood how monotonous it must be to just stand in one place and stare at the wall.
“What’s the good word, Alan?” I said as I strode up to him.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Alan said, perking up at my appearance. “It looks like the Wolverines are going to be in the championships again this year. They crushed the Bolts 7 to 2!” The Wolverines was the local soccer team. It was nearing the end of the season and the finals were only a few weeks away. I was usually too busy to catch most of the games myself so Alan kept me up on how all the local teams were doing.
“Was there ever any doubt?” I said. “I heard Scott Logan scored five of the goals himself.”
“It was incredible, Sire. You should have seen it. He was like a man possessed. The other team couldn’t touch him.”
We spent a few minutes discussing the Wolverines’ latest game and the feats of athletic prowess their star player had exhibited on the field.
“So, are we in the pool?” I eventually asked. There was always a sports pool of some kind among the PSA staff. I had given Alan fifty solars at the beginning of the season and had him place my bets with his. So far our winnings totaled more than six hundred solars.
“Absolutely. I’ve got us down for the Wolverines to win by 4.”
“You just keep on picking winners and we’ll have one hell of an end of season party.”
I had promised to use my winnings for a PSA staff a party if the Wolverines won the championship.
“It’s in the bag, Sire,” Alan promised as I glanced at the retinal scanner and the door to my apartment slid aside. I clapped him on the shoulder and entered the suite.
It was quiet in the entry foyer when the door closed behind me. The space I was standing in was an elongated oval with twin, curving staircases on both sides leading up to the bedrooms and other private areas on the second floor. Portraits of each of the previous Gilead kings and queens lined the walls along the stairs. There was even one of my uncle, Duke Sebastian. Although he had taken the throne illegally, I kept him there to remind me how easily the power of the Crown could corrupt.
Unlike when I left this morning, each of the paintings was now encased in a protective plastic bag while in front of me the round, rosewood table that usually bore a vase full of exotic flowers was covered with a sheet. Directly above it the crystal chandelier my mother had commissioned shortly after I was born was sheathed in a plastic wrap of its own. And on the far side of the room the overstuffed chairs and love seats which formed an intimate little nook in front of the floor to ceiling windows along the back wall were only vague, sheet draped shapes.
Max had been busy. It was a bit sobering to see my home packed up like this, but it also meant that all my planning over the past months was finally about to bear fruit.
For a moment I thought I was alone until my eye fell on the flatpad on the edge of the table.
“Morgana,” I called, but there was no response.
My first thought was that she was upstairs packing. Then I remembered that it was Wednesday. Even with everything else that was going on today I knew she wouldn’t miss one of her special practice sessions if she could help it.
Underneath each of the sweeping staircases hallways led off to the left and right wings of the suite. To the left were my office, a comfortable den/media room, the dining room, and a private lift down to the garage. The hallway on the right led to the kitchen, the laundry and eventually the gym. My valet, Maximilian Keyhold, also had his rooms in this part of the house.
Most people were surprised at how small the apartment was. While the Royal Family did own a one hundred sixty-four room estate on a three thousand acre spread outside of the city, this is where I lived. I didn’t need a lot of room. In fact, I preferred the intimacy of the suite. Everything else in my life was on such a grand scale that these rooms served as a place where I could relax and just be myself.
Remembering my schedule, I glanced at the wall clock beside the door. The time before our departure was running short. I turned into the right hand hallway and headed toward the gym door at the far end.
“Good afternoon, Sire,” Max said as I passed the open kitchen doorway. “Will you be wanting dinner now?”
An enticing aroma swept over me, reminding me just how hungry I was. I had been so busy during the day that I hadn’t bothered to stop for lunch. I don’t know how he did it, but Max always seemed to know when I would be home and would have just the right thing prepared. I paused and turned into the immaculate kitchen. Like the rest of the apartment, just about everything in the kitchen had been cleaned up, packed away or covered.
“Hi, Max. Actually, that sounds like a good idea. I’m famishe
d. You can set it out for me in my room. I’ll eat while I change.” I picked a few grapes from a bowl of fruit that was conveniently set out next to the kitchen door and popped one into my mouth. “That smells wonderful. What are we having?”
“French onion soup and sauteed shiitake mushrooms, followed by beef Wellington with braised asparagus spears in a butter and garlic sauce. For desert I have prepared a strawberry cheese cake.”
My stomach gave an appreciative gurgle.
“I assume that means Your Highness approves of the dinner menu,” Max teased in his normal, flat delivery.
“Absolutely. By the way, have you seen Morgana?”
“Miss. Morgana is in the gymnasium with Master Han,” Max said as he drew on a pair of insulated mitts. “I will begin melting the cheese for the soup now and will have everything ready in seven minutes. We are scheduled to depart at four, which gives you thirty six minutes to dress and eat.” Opening one of the ovens he began pulling out dishes and setting them on the side board.
I popped the last couple of the grapes into my mouth, backed out of the kitchen and headed to the end of the hall. The gym door slid open at my approach and I stepped quietly inside to watch. The gym was the single largest room in the apartment, having almost the same amount of floor space as a professional basketball court. Half of the room was simply open space with the remaining half occupied by various exercise machines and free weights. Morgana and her instructor were circling each other in the center of the open floor, their bare feet sliding lightly across the polished wood. Both of them were wearing doboks, the traditional two piece Taekwondo uniform consisting of a pull over top and wide leg pants, and of course black belts. They were each covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. Rather than appearing tired however, they both seemed relaxed and on guard.
Without warning, Master Han flowed into a sudden flurry of kicks aimed at Morgana’s body and head. Unfazed, Morgana blocked each attack and bent low as Master Han leapt into the air and let go a spinning kick aimed at her head. The flurry lasted only a few scant seconds, then the pair of them resumed their guarded circling.
Master Han smiled pleasantly as he shuffled his feet across the floor. He was an unimposing man. He stood two centimeters shorter than Morgana with a round, boyish face and jet black hair that was just beginning to be touched with gray at the temples. From his appearance Master Han did not give the impression of being one of the deadliest hand-to-hand fighters alive, but before retiring from competition a few years earlier, he had been the undefeated, international Taekwondo champion six years running. And he was one of the few people anywhere who was skillful enough to have anything to teach Morgana.
As Morgana faced him now I could tell that she was in her element and completely at ease. Then she attacked, moving just as Han crossed his right foot in front of his left, when his balance was least stable. She fired off her own series of kicks which the master blocked with almost casual seeming sweeps of his arms. Springing in, she switched to a series of snapped punches which he blocked with similar ease. Throughout the entire exchange the relaxed smiling expression never left the master’s face.
Suddenly, with a deceptive flick of his hand, Han grabbed her wrist when she failed to retract her arm quickly enough. He shifted his weight, pivoted on one foot and whipped his arm in an arc which sent her cart-wheeling through the air. Morgana tucked her head, turning her fall into a shoulder roll, and came up on one knee in a defensive pose. Master Han stood facing her and continued smiling. After a moment she broke into a grin and pushed herself to her feet. She raised her right fist in front of her chest, grasped her fist with the fingers of her open left hand and bowed. Han shuffled up to her and gently tapped the wrist he had grabbed to throw her.
“What did you do wrong?” he asked her in a soft voice.
As Morgana started to answer him I noticed a flashing light in the corner of my vision. The comm panel set into the wall beside the gym door was flashing. I went into the hall and checked the twin panel there. The caller ID told me it was my Chief of Staff, Morgan. I activated the scrambler and accepted the call.
“Morgan! I hope you’re calling with good news,” I said, smiling at the familiar image on the screen. Morgan was a burly, teddy bear of a man with a round, jowly face and large, basset hound eyes. His dark brown hair was shot through with gray these days but there was still a sharpness in his gaze. I had known ‘Uncle’ Morgan since I was a child. He had been like a father to me after my parents were killed eight years ago. I found it immensely comforting to have him in a position to not only help me craft my policies but also to give me sound advice. He was one of the few people I could trust to give me his unedited opinion on any topic.
“Sorry to bother you when I know you’re trying to slip away,” he began, “but you asked to be notified whenever we picked up anything that looked like pirate activity. We just got word of a transport found adrift near the Argent cluster. The drive system appears to have taken a missile hit and the cargo hold was empty. Most of the crew was missing but all of the escape pods were still in place. The only signs of the crew were four bodies found in different parts of the ship, all of whom had been shot at close range.”
Damn. “Was it one of ours?”
“No,” Morgan said as he glanced down at something off camera. “The ship was the Dawn Star of the Star Transportation Combine, registered out of the Zuela Republic. It’s listed as a galaxy class freighter, three hundred seventy meters overall length, crew compliment of twelve.”
“I don’t suppose there was anything useful in the flight data recorder.”
“I’m afraid not, although someone aboard must have been nervous about being alone in that sector of space because the recorder shows that they were running continuous sensor sweeps. The data we recovered shows an intermittent contact just before the drive system was hit. The signature is consistent with the profile of a torpedo, although I doubt anyone aboard that ship would have recognized it as such. Our intelligence people managed to get a copy of the recorder’s data and a team of analysts is going over it now but it doesn’t look like we’re going to get much more out of it than we already know.”
“You said the Dawn Star was off by itself in that sector. I thought most of the combines were sending their ships out in convoys these days. What were they doing out there all alone?”
“According to the company, the ship was running an urgent cargo out to a small moon in the Alnitak system. The corporation that contracted for the shipment asked for expedited service. They were even offering the crew a bonus for quick delivery. With such short notice the company didn’t have any other ships available to send with them as an escort.”
So they just decided to send a lone ship off into a remote sector without any support. It had been a gamble and the transport crew had lost.
“What was so important that the customer couldn’t wait to have it shipped?” I asked.
“That’s the odd thing,” Morgan said. “All the ship was carrying was mining equipment.”
“They hijacked a shipment of mining equipment?”
“The local authorities think the pirates hit them because of the opportunity to take a lone ship. It was just their bad luck that the transport wasn’t carrying anything really valuable. And let’s not forget the missing crew. Collectively those poor souls are worth around a hundred and fifty thousand on the slave market.”
“That wouldn’t even begin to cover their costs,” I said. “A single torpedo goes for more than a hundred thousand all by itself. If you factor in fuel and everything else it takes just to operate a ship, they’d be lucky to break even.”
My two and a half years as the captain of an independent transport had made me very aware of just what it took to keep a ship operating in the black. Annual operating costs could easily run in excess of a million solars, even without purchasing expensive illegal weapons. And despite what the locals thought ab
out the pirates attacking the Dawn Star at random, the pattern our intelligence people had been following over the past several months suggested that the one thing they were not doing was striking at random. Random chance could not explain how the pirates managed to target ships carrying the most valuable cargoes time after time. Somehow they were getting inside information. I was sure of it. But if that were true, why hijack a cargo of mining equipment? It didn’t make any sense.
Something else was bothering me, too. Alnitak was a tiny system far outside of the normal transport lanes. It was little more than a dim, white dwarf star with a few uninteresting rocks barely large enough to be called planets circling it. It would be cost prohibitive to go all that way to mine unless some truly rare deposits had been discovered. Yet I was not aware of any recent finds there. The more I thought about it the more it didn’t make sense.
“You have that look,” Morgan said when I had been absorbed in thought for a while.
“Sorry. Just trying to make sense of this whole episode. The pieces don’t fit.”
“And you don’t like a mystery.”
I smiled. “You know me too well. Thank your people for me and tell them to keep at that recorder data. Be sure to let me know if the analysts come up with anything else.”
“Of course, Jason.”
“Now, while I have you on the beam, how is my pet project coming along? The last report I got was that the crew was running some final tests.”
“The tests are almost done,” Morgan said. “They should be just about finished by the time you get there.”
“Excellent. After this latest pirate attack I want to get the operation going as quickly as possible.”
“Mmm,” was Morgan’s only comment. I could hear the disapproval in his voice.
“Okay, now it’s my turn. You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
“Nothing we haven’t already talked about,” he said, frowning. “I’m still concerned about you being away from the capitol. You’re the King, Jason. Your place is here.”
“Aren’t you the same guy who keeps telling me that I need to take a step back and let the legislature run things?”
“You know what I mean. Of course you have to listen to what your Senators are saying, but in the end you’re the one who has to make the final decisions. That’s why we have a King. It is your leadership that ultimately directs the nation.”
“I understand your feelings, but like I keep saying, the time for kings is coming to an end. Look what Sebastian did to the nation in just a few years.”
“You are not your uncle,” he scolded.
“That’s true. I actually care about the people. But look at the several years before that when Sebastian was Regent. Because his power was limited, his impact on the kingdom was minor. The elected members of the government actually ran the country. The most he could do was exercise his veto power which they could still overrule with a two thirds majority. The system had checks and balances built in to keep him from running away with things. But once he was given the crown all bets were off. He brought the nation to the brink of ruin in only a few short years.”
“Alright, I’ll grant you that,” Morgan said, “but what about all the positive changes you and the other reigning monarchs have made? Without your authority to implement changes unilaterally much of the progress made over the years might never have come about.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I tend to think that the people would eventually have figured things out on their own. Besides, most of those things you’re talking about were only procedural changes. The day to day running of the nation has always been left in the hands of the people, as it should be. If the King needs to step in and make extensive changes it means something is seriously wrong with the system. The fiasco Sebastian caused by his meddling only proves my point. The kingdom will be just fine until I get back.” I paused and shot him my most mischievous grin. “Besides, I have every confidence that the person I’m leaving in charge will be able to keep a lid on things while I’m away. Or are you turning down your appointment as Steward? If so, let me know now so I can find someone to fill in for you. I’m sure Senator Fiske wouldn’t mind a few weeks in the big chair. He already thinks he knows more about running the nation than I do.”
Morgan made a pained face. “Please, don’t even joke about that. Of course I’ll serve as Steward if that’s what you want. I’m honored that you would trust me with such an important responsibility. I just want you to be certain that you’ve thought it through and are sure this is the best course of action. Let’s not overlook the very real possibility that you could get killed on your little adventure. You don’t even have an heir yet so the succession would have to fall on your cousin, Cyrill. No disrespect, Jason, but your cousin isn’t exactly the type I would describe as a deep thinker.”
Cousin Cyrill was a great guy to have at a party but he definitely was not a deep thinker. What he was was a middle aged playboy who was more interested in accumulating notches on his bedpost than he was in the nation’s politics.
“You can’t blame me on that account, Morgan. I’ve had my sights set on a promising candidate for quite some time now—beautiful, intelligent, athletic—with a roundhouse kick that could take your head off. Ask your daughter why she won’t let me make an honest woman out of her.”
“From what I hear she’s just keeping her options open until something better comes along. Besides, she says you snore.”
“You’re not helping.”
Morgan chuckled to himself, then sobered. “Seriously, Jason, take care of yourself out there. And bring my little girl back in one piece while you’re at it.”
“Depend on it.”
The last thing I wanted to do was to cause him worry, but I was also convinced that I needed to follow through with what I was planning. The Royal Intelligence Agency had been hearing some very disturbing rumors about a pirate fleet being massed far out on the rim of occupied space. Something big was on the horizon and I needed to figure out what they were planning before the nation was plunged into a full scale war. None of the agents that had been sent to infiltrate the pirate network had made any headway. They had either ended up being stonewalled or else had gone missing. We could only presume that our missing agents had been identified as spies and killed. These were brave men and women who had given their lives in an attempt to put an end to the growing pirate threat. I was not about to let anyone else risk their lives when I had the perfect way to infiltrate the pirate network already in place.
“You just worry about getting that bill passed,” I said. “Fiske and his crew are going to try and stall things when they find out I’ve taken off on an unannounced holiday.”
“I can handle Fiske,” Morgan snorted. “Just come back with some good intel so we can finally put this pirate business to rest. Good hunting.”
I ended the call and turned toward the back stairs. Max would have dinner set out for me by now. As I started up the spiraling steps I mentally reviewed the list of things I still needed to take care of before we left. A few last minute instructions to the Cabinet and a quick call to Admiral Magnus, my newly appointed Chair of the Joint Chiefs, and everything would be in place. I had been planning this operation for months and I was excited that everything was finally coming together. I was determined to undo the damage my uncle had caused. I only wished I had been able to bring him to justice for his crimes against the nation. His disappearance and this sudden massing of a pirate fleet were too much of a coincidence for me. Although there had been no trace of him following his escape from the Sonnefeld Medical Center, I had a feeling that I had not seen the last of him.
And I always listen to my feelings.