“You have one remaining chance to get this right, Senior Ship’s Controller Hafely. You should be extremely grateful that I am giving you that chance rather than immediately ordering your execution for disrespect toward me.”
Her voice returned to calmness. “For the people, Iceni, out.”
Feeling tired, Iceni stood up. “Let me know if we don’t receive a positive reply from Senior Ship’s Controller Hafely within half an hour, and if we don’t see his ship begin to turn around to meet the citizens who evacuate from the facility. As soon as you see the ship begin to move, contact the mobile forces facility and tell them the merchant is coming to pick them up. Am I forgetting anything?”
“How do we ensure that the merchant actually takes them to the second planet?” Marphissa asked. “That might require detaching a warship to shadow the merchant until it gets there.”
She didn’t want to do that. It would tie up a warship for even longer than the commitments she was already dealing with. Iceni pointed at another symbol on the display. “That’s the light cruiser that wanted to go to, where was it, Cadez? Why haven’t they left?”
The comm specialist answered. “I’ve talked to them, Madam President. They have some people on the second planet that they wanted to pick up before they left, so they’ve been waiting around to see if the snakes would leave.”
“Good. Contact that light cruiser, Kommodor Marphissa. Tell them we chased away the snakes from the second planet, and tell them what I’ve ordered the merchant to do.” Iceni paused. Could she just order the light cruiser to do something? They might refuse, and she had no means of catching them to enforce an order. Giving an order you couldn’t enforce was a bad idea. It could make you look very weak, indeed. “Ask them if they will intercept that merchant and escort it to the second planet to ensure that the citizens from the mobile forces facility reach the planet safely.”
It all felt very . . . humanitarian. Hopefully, no one would interpret that as a sign of weakness in her. She needed the goodwill of whoever ended up ruling this star system and didn’t want to burn any bridges with any factions, that was all. That didn’t mean she would return the battleship, but it did mean issuing a few threats to save a few lives to earn the kind of intangible currency that could purchase important dividends in the future. “I’m going to work in my stateroom for a while.”
As Iceni left the bridge, with every intention of lying down and trying to rest, she noticed out of the corners of her eyes that the specialists all seemed to be happy for some reason.
* * *
GENERAL Artur Drakon eyed the latest intelligence update sourly. Even a few months ago, intelligence updates had been much, much longer and much simpler. In those days, there had been two categories. The Alliance category contained the latest that had been learned about the enemy’s intentions and capabilities, as well as information about recent Alliance military operations and losses. The best that could be said about that category was that it usually correctly identified the star systems in which combat had taken place. Intentions were never more than a patchwork of guesses, and capabilities rarely showed any changes that mattered. And, of course, the information was time-late, as much as several months late if you were stationed somewhere like Midway far from the border with the Alliance. Even when you were stationed closer to the front, information about other areas where fighting was taking place could be weeks old at best.
The Syndicate Worlds category was almost always shorter, and almost always even less useful. Actual losses of forces or defeats were never accurately reported and had to be teased out through the grapevine and unofficial contacts. Syndicate Worlds’ plans were always subject to deliberate disinformation and sudden, last-minute changes if one influential CEO abruptly lost that influence and their replacement had other plans. And, of course, that was all time-late as well.
Yet everyone of rank was supposed to know what was in the updates, so reading them was mandatory, and in any event they offered important clues as to what your superiors wanted to believe themselves and wanted you to believe.
The intelligence update before Drakon now was far smaller, but with more categories. Midway. Local Star Systems. Syndicate Worlds. Alliance. Other Star Systems. Enigma Race. Much of the information was fragmentary, and the time lags had grown far worse as travel through space once controlled by the Syndicate Worlds had grown more difficult and official networks had collapsed along with Syndicate authority. But at least the information reflected the truth as best they knew it. Or as best Colonel Malin knew it.
Midway. Stable, almost suspiciously so, the citizens enthusiastically embracing the elections for low-level offices. The euphoria from the destruction of the snakes hadn’t faded yet, and the Syndicate Worlds hadn’t yet retaliated. Trade was weaker than it should be, but it had been trending that way for some time. In some ways, the Syndicate Worlds had been unraveling for years and decades under the pressure of the war, maintaining an image of strength thanks to military power that masked the growing hollowness and dissent behind it.
Taroa. Three factions contesting for control. None strong enough to win. Malin had emphasized that. He wanted Drakon to think about it.
Kane. Critically important, but they still knew nothing. Until some ship arrived bearing news from Iceni, all they could do was wonder what she had found there and whether she had succeeded in her mission.
Syndicate Worlds. Very little new. A recently arriving merchant ship had carried a message from CEO Jason Boyens for Iceni, and Malin had already intercepted that long enough to copy the contents. Unfortunately, Boyens didn’t tell them much they didn’t already know. The new government was weak, everyone was struggling for position and influence, and star systems continued to break away from Syndicate Worlds authority. The message had been sent well before news would have reached Prime of the rebellion at Midway, so it offered no clues to reactions by the government.
Enigma race. Nothing to report. If Black Jack’s fleet had stirred them up again, the aliens must still be busy confronting the Alliance.
Other star systems. This one reported in chaos, that one declaring independence under a strong CEO or a group of them, yet another joining a loose conglomeration of other local star systems for protection that the central government could no longer provide. This information was the oldest and most patchy, and so least reliable.
Alliance. Personal briefing required.
“Colonel Malin, I’d like to speak with you.” Drakon wanted until Malin arrived and closed the door behind him. “What’s this item on the Alliance?”
Malin checked the security readouts before replying. “I managed to access some of President Iceni’s personal files, General.”
“That must have been extremely difficult.”
“It was challenging. I couldn’t get to everything, not by a long shot, but I did find the records of her conversations with the Alliance fleet, the ones even the snakes never located.”
Drakon took a moment to contemplate how history, especially his history, would have been different if Malin were working for the snakes. “Do we have copies now?”
“I couldn’t copy them, sir. That would have left clear footprints because they were locked. I recorded a summary of what I saw, though.” Malin brought out his own reader. “What we were told about the conversations between President Iceni and Admiral Geary the first time the Alliance fleet was here, when they defeated the enigma force, seems to have been accurate. President Iceni did not withhold any meaningful details.”
“What about the second time? When President Iceni says she made that deal with Black Jack?”
“I found that, General.” Malin frowned at his reader. “Admiral Geary did not in fact promise to back the actions of President Iceni. What he promised was to assist in protecting this star system against the enigma race. He also promised not to openly repudiate any claims that Icen
i made of more extensive promises of protection, but he did not in fact promise or offer such protection.”
“Hah.” Was that good news or bad news? “So President Iceni’s hand isn’t as strong as she’s been claiming. She doesn’t have major backing for anything she does.”
“That’s correct, sir. It increases the threat to this star system because we can’t count on the Alliance fleet actively opposing a Syndicate attack, but it also means that President Iceni needs your backing all that much more.”
“What else did you find?”
“Something odd that I noticed.” Malin’s frown deepened. “I’ve questioned what I think I saw, because it doesn’t make sense, but I am certain of it. In the messages sent by the Alliance fleet in its first visit here, Geary wore the insignia of an Alliance fleet admiral.”
“Is that what he called himself then? We’ve got records of the broadcasts he made to the whole star system and to the enigmas.”
“Yes, General. Fleet Admiral Geary. But in the messages with President Iceni on his latest visit here, I am certain that Geary was wearing the insignia of an admiral.”
That took a moment to sink in. “A regular admiral? A lower rank than he displayed the earlier time? Malin, that doesn’t make any sense at all. Hell, it’s impossible. Who could have busted Black Jack down a rank? He owns the Alliance.”
Malin made a baffled gesture. “I have been trying to come up with an explanation, General.”
“Why would he pretend to have a lower rank now than he did then? Is it some kind of trick?” That was the only reason that offered any hint of sense.
“Perhaps it was related to their mission into enigma space,” Malin suggested. “Something to influence the way the enigmas reacted.”
“Who the hell knows enough about the enigmas to predict how they’d react to anything?” Drakon frowned, trying to rationalize this information, but his thoughts ran in circles, going nowhere. “Did you spot any other discrepancies?”
“None that I noticed.”
“What did President Iceni think the difference in rank meant? Did you find any sign of that?”
“No, sir. She may not have noticed it since Alliance military command issues haven’t been her priority in recent years.”
Why would the man who, by all accounts, controlled the Alliance accept a demotion? It had to be a trick, but who was the trick aimed at? Maybe the enigmas. Or . . . “Maybe it’s aimed at us. Black Jack must have known that we’d spot the discrepancy sooner or later. Does he want us to think his position is weak? Why? Oh, hell. If we think Black Jack is weaker than he is, then we’ll be more likely to provoke him, to offer him a reason to do what he wants. And we know he wants control of this star system.”
“A way to fool us into demonstrating our true intentions toward him?” Malin said. “That is a possible explanation. Or perhaps Black Jack is just trying to keep us off-balance. I’m not an expert on mobile forces engagements, but the reports that I have seen said that Black Jack is always doing the unexpected, appearing to be doing one thing when he’s actually preparing to do something else.”
“So now he appears to have been demoted from Alliance Fleet Admiral to Alliance Admiral.” Drakon pounded one fist lightly on his desk. “It’s a strategy. We have to figure out the goal of that strategy, but I’d be willing to bet that it’s aimed at tricking us into some misstep.”
“It could be aimed at the Syndicate Worlds government on Prime,” Malin pointed out. “An attempt to fool them into restarting hostilities or simply taking action contrary to the peace agreement. That would give Black Jack the excuse he needed to totally crush them, leaving not even a rump form of the Syndicate Worlds to deal with.”
“And leaving lots of weak star systems to be scooped up into his personal empire.” Drakon nodded. “You might have it, there. And, of course, we’d be one of the first star systems that Black Jack would want to collect. You didn’t spot any other deals with President Iceni? Anything that would mean she intends turning us over to Black Jack’s control?”
“No, sir. I am certain no such agreement exists. I am certain that President Iceni does not have any more trust of the Alliance than you do.”
“What about her trust of Black Jack?”
Malin paused to think. “My impression is that she sees him as a very powerful rival, sir. Much as she does you.”
“She puts me in the same category as Black Jack?” That seemed funny, somehow, being placed alongside someone with as much power and influence as Black Jack. “What about plans to take me down? I assume if you’d found anything like that you would have mentioned it before now.”
“I found no plans,” Malin confirmed. “She is maintaining files on you and your actions, but it seems to be for contingency purposes, in the event she feels she must take action.”
Could he actually trust Iceni? Now that he knew she had, if not lied about, then at least greatly exaggerated the terms of her agreement with Black Jack. And she had withheld some important information about Black Jack, though, as Malin said, that could be because Iceni hadn’t recognized something that was staring her in the face. “Your impression is that President Iceni is not a threat to me at this time.” Drakon made it a statement.
“Yes, sir,” Malin confirmed. “I continue to advise that any action against her would be a mistake.”
“You know Colonel Morgan’s opinion on that.”
“Yes, sir, and you know that I disagree with her in the strongest terms.”
Drakon laughed. “Hell, whenever you and Morgan disagree, it’s always on the strongest terms. See if you can get back into President Iceni’s files and learn more, but be careful to avoid leaving footprints.” The door alarm sounded. “And here’s Colonel Morgan herself.”
“Speak of the devil,” Malin murmured.
Morgan swaggered in, apparently ignoring Malin but not turning her back on him, either. “I just got word that there was a firing squad busy earlier today,” she announced. “Some supervisor from the primary orbital dockyard got severely reprimanded.”
“Who ordered the execution?” Drakon demanded, nettled that something like that had happened without his knowledge.
“Supposedly, the orders came from the President,” Morgan said. “But those orders all came through her goon.”
“That assistant of hers? Togo?”
“Right.” Morgan cocked one questioning eyebrow. “I wonder what we might have found out if we’d had a chance to talk to this supervisor?”
Had that supervisor stumbled across something they weren’t supposed to know? Drakon glared at the situation display. “We know there was a problem with that one heavy cruiser that the President left behind. Was it related to that? What were the charges against this supervisor?”
“Corruption,” Morgan replied. “One of the one-size-fits-all charges. They actually did a show trial, even though that supervisor was too low-ranked for that to make sense. Quick arrest, quick trial, and quick execution. Routine stuff, except for the trial part.”
“Routine for snakes,” Malin said.
“And CEOs who want to remain in power,” Morgan shot back.
“Iceni hasn’t even been here for more than a week,” Drakon said. “I don’t like the idea of this assistant of hers unilaterally ordering executions.” How to get that across to the assistant in the most intimidating way without appearing to elevate the importance of the assistant to that of someone I will deal with directly? “Colonel Morgan, you are to contact this assistant of the President’s directly. Tell him that no further executions are to take place without my specific approval. If I hear of any more such actions, I will take action. Make sure that the assistant is absolutely clear that I mean that.”
“I can do that,” Morgan said with a smile. “Or I can just get rid of the assistant. That’ll send a nice, strong
message to his boss and to everyone else.”
“Togo is not an easy target,” Malin cautioned.
“Neither am I. But even I offer myself as a target sometimes, don’t I?” Morgan needled Malin. “General, the President, and everyone else, needs to know who really runs this star system.”
“I appreciate the need to be treated with an appropriate level of respect,” Drakon said. “But I’m not ready to send that strong a message to the President. Does anyone else need reminding of my status?”
“There are some citizens,” Morgan scoffed. “Some of those morons who want to be elected to local councils. There have been statements made in their election materials that deserve some severe reprimands from you.”
“They’re blowing off pressure,” Malin insisted. “It keeps that pressure from building up.”
“Or we can just eliminate the source of the pressure,” Morgan snapped.
“I’m keeping my options open,” Drakon said to stop the latest argument. “From all I see, both I and the President are still regarded by the vast majority of the citizens as the heroes who liberated them from the snakes. If I start offing every citizen who says otherwise, it will dent that image pretty fast. If anyone goes beyond talk, or starts getting too many other citizens listening to them, that will be a different matter.”
“General,” Malin said, “if you held an honest election tomorrow, the citizens would overwhelmingly vote you and President Iceni as their leaders. No one could claim that your power came from any other source but the people themselves.”