The Lost Stars 01-Tarnished Knight (28 page)

“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 Iceni 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.”

“Why the hell would he want to do that?” Morgan demanded. “Why let ‘the people’ believe for one second that they have any right to pass judgment on whether or not General Drakon is in charge?”

Malin pointed upward. “We don’t exist in isolation. There are other powers. We have to worry about them.”

Drakon stared at Malin, as did Morgan. She laughed. “Are you invoking fear of ghosts to back up your arguments now? You’ve been around the workers too long.”

“You could read my statement that way, but you could also take it to mean such things as the Syndicate Worlds,” Malin said coldly. “They haven’t disappeared. We have a pathetically small flotilla to defend ourselves until President Iceni returns. If she has not lost any of the units she took with her, but hasn’t gained a battleship, our flotilla will only be pitifully small. With the battleship, it will still be small. And as we all know, the Syndicate Worlds will not attack only with mobile forces and ground forces. They will try to soften us up by any means, create civil unrest, undermine our strength by sabotage, and use every other trick in the Syndicate book to make us an easier target for reconquest. We know this from the inside. We have played this game ourselves. Mobile forces are not our first line of defense. Nor are ground forces. We need the citizens to believe that this is
their
star system, that General Drakon and President Iceni are
their
leaders, that we are the best means to ensure their safety against external forces. And then the citizens will ensure that when our forces defend this star system, they have a firm backing behind them.”

“You ensure a firm back by having a firm spine,” Morgan said.

“Is there anything else?” Drakon said in a voice that instantly silenced the debate. He didn’t feel like going over this again, not when his mind was puzzling over what Black Jack was up to and worried about what might have happened to Iceni.

Malin took a deep breath. “There is one other item I wished to discuss with you, sir. Taroa Star System.”

This time, Morgan rolled her eyes. “Are you going to advise General Drakon to go there and tell everyone at Taroa that they should all just get along?”

“No, I’m going to advise General Drakon to go there with troops and intervene in the fighting.”

Morgan let surprise show for a moment, then grinned. “I want to hear this.”

* * *

SHE
hadn’t slept well for days, and the last several hours had been particularly bad. Iceni finally erupted from her stateroom on the heavy cruiser, crew members scrambling to stay out of her way, and stormed up to the bridge. “Why the hell isn’t that battleship ready to move?”

Kommodor Marphissa gulped nervously before she answered. “The engineers and system specialists say one more hour, Madam President.”

“That’s what they said an hour ago!”

“Madam President.”

She spun to see that Sub-Executive Kontos had just entered the bridge as well.

“I was coming to report to you, Madam President,” Kontos said. Though still thin, after rest, food, and water, he no longer wavered as he stood, not even when faced by a CEO on the rampage. “One more hour and no more. I personally guarantee it.”

The already-hushed bridge seemed to grow deathly quiet. Under the Syndicate system, announcements of personal responsibility could presage rewards, but more often foretold serious punishment.

Iceni eyed Kontos. “Are you aware of what happened to the last person who failed to carry out their work as they had promised me, Sub-Executive Kontos?”

“I need not concern myself with that, Madam President. There will be no failure. Battleship B-78 will be ready for movement under its own power in one hour.”