This Day All Gods Die (25 page)

That was her decision, although the prospect filled her with pain. Humankind deserved better from UMCPPR—

and

from the UMCP itself—

than Godsen had ever given it.

However, Warden had reassured her more than she would have dared hope. In an abrupt, and unexplained, policy reversal, he'd ordered her to do the PR director's job as she believed it should be done: openly, honestly; constructively.

At one stroke he'd changed everything. She couldn't imagine what his motives might be, but she approved completely. He inspired trust, despite his responsibility for Godsen. After years of bad compromises and frustration, her life came into focus. She found that she was eager to be the interface which the UMCP so urgently needed.

But now the task of re-examination had to be done again.

The UMCP director had presented her with another arduous choice.

This one was especially cruel.

When she'd left her meeting with Hashi, Security Chief Mandich, and Warden, she'd felt sick with grief. Her relief at hearing that she hadn't precipitated the kaze's attack soon faded: her sorrow at other things was with her still. Her efforts to make up her mind were colored by ruin.

She shouldn't feel this way, she told herself sternly. Warden had made the mandate of her duties real at last; given them teeth. Now she would be able to do her job as it should have been done from the beginning.

But the things she'd learned—

!

The Amnion had committed an act of war. That would have been enough—

more than enough—

but it was only the

beginning.

On direct orders from Holt Fasner, UMCPDA had framed Angus Thermopyle in order to achieve the passage of the Preempt Act. And Morn Hyland knew the truth. She was alive aboard Trumpet—

despite the fact that Captain Thermopyle was now a welded UMCP cyborg with explicit instructions not to rescue her from her enslavement to Nick Succorso. Captain Thermopyle's "escape" from UMCPHQ accompanied by Milos Taverner had been a ruse designed to protect a covert mission against Billingate.

In addition Hashi had produced convincing—

if inferential

—

evidence that the kazes who had attacked Captain Vertigus, killed Godsen, and threatened the GCES had been sent by the Dragon himself. Presumably their purpose had been to disrupt Special Counsel Igensard's investigation of the UMCP, as well as to counteract the effects of Warden's—

and Hashi's—

recent

video conference with the Council. In effect, however, the kazes had defeated Sixten Vertigus' Bill of Severance.

Now she, Koina Hannish, had been charged with revealing all this before the Governing Council for Earth and Space.

Under the circumstances she should have been avid; almost ecstatic with vindication. As Protocol Director for the UMCP, she stood at the fulcrum of events which would affect all humankind. The veil of falsehood and unaccountability which Holt Fasner had woven between the UMCP and the GCES was starting to fray. When she addressed the Council—

when she carried out Warden's clear instructions—

the fabric

would tear.

She should have been thrilled—

but $he wasn't. Instead

mourning ate like acid at her heart: her sense of clarity and conviction corroded by the moment. Isolated and immobilized, she sat here in the dusk of her office trying to make the most important decision of her life.

Warden Dios had chosen her to destroy him.

When she spoke to the Council—

if she spoke—

she would

put an axe to the roots of Holt Fasner's power over human space. The threat of war would naturally leave the Members chary of interfering with the UMCP. But that threat came in direct response to Angus Thermopyle's mission against Billingate—

and to his escape with Morn Hyland. It could be argued, therefore, that Warden was culpable for this act of war. And Maxim Igensard would certainly do so, especially if he had reason to think that Warden could have guessed Milos Taverner would turn traitor. The Special Counsel might well claim that the UMCP was as much a threat to humankind's safety as the Amnion were.

The information that the UMCP had betrayed Com-Mine Security in order to extend its own hegemony would confirm Igensard's argument. So would the apparent breakdown of Hashi's control over his welded cyborg.

The shock of these revelations would increase dramatically if Koina accused Holt Fasner of sending kazes against his opponents.

At the very least the Members would probably reconsider

—

and perhaps pass—

Captain Vertigus' Bill. And they might

go much farther. They were unlikely to cripple the UMCP at such a time. But if Koina was eloquent enough they might press charges against Holt Fasner. They might decharter the UMC itself.

Whatever else happened, however, the Council would certainly crush Warden Dios. He would be suspended in disgrace: he would be charged with treason. And Holt Fasner wouldn't stand by him. The Dragon would have no choice but to extract from Warden any sacrifice the GCES required, if only to reduce his own losses.

Koina wanted no part of it.

On the surface Warden's behavior appeared unconscionable. Nevertheless she trusted him. Something in the clench of his strong fists, or the probing of his one eye, or the underlying passion of his voice, convinced her that he was honest. Like her, he must have made bad compromises: after all, he worked for Holt. Still she believed that he'd done what he did for reasons which she would have considered honorable.

She didn't want to be the one who brought him down.

So now she had to choose between her duty—

as he him-

self had defined it for her—

and her personal loyalty to him.

Which could she bear to give up?

Snared by loss, she feared that the challenge would defeat her. No matter what she did, she would have to surrender pieces of herself.

Perhaps this was the kind of pressure which had driven Warden to make unconscionable choices. Perhaps he, too, had been forced to surrender pieces of himself.

She was still gnawing on the problem like an animal chewing its own leg to escape a trap when her intercom suddenly flashed.

She caught her breath: for a moment her heart seemed to stop. That was Warden's priority channel. It made no sound: she'd stilled the chime. Nevertheless it signaled insistently, as urgent as an emergency beacon.

She wasn't ready—

She had to answer it anyway. She would never be able to justify refusing a call from the director of the UMCP.

Instinctively she straightened her back; cleared her throat; adjusted her clothes. Then she reached out almost firmly and keyed open the channel.

"Koina Hannish," she announced. "Director Dios?"

"Koina." Warden's voice sounded distant, muffled by tension. "Let's keep this short. I'm in a hurry.

"Len has called an emergency session," he said without preamble. "It starts in six hours. Your shuttle leaves in two.

You have that long to brace yourself for Igensard."

Something had happened.

She scrambled to catch up. "I take it this means you've told the President there's been an act of war."

"Yes," he replied. He'd bypassed Protocol entirely—

which of course was exactly what he would be expected to do in this kind of crisis. "As I said, I've been waiting to make a formal announcement until I had a better idea which way events were headed. But now I can't put it off any longer."

Something had happened. Koina held herself still, hoping that her silence would encourage him to go on.

"Another drone just came in," he explained promptly.

He wanted her to know this. "It's from Punisher. She's still in the Massif-5 system—

or she was when she launched the

drone. But she's on her way out. Chasing Trumpet.

"Why Trumpet is running from her I can't tell you," he rasped. "That's one problem. Nick Succorso has the codes to control Angus. He should have stopped trying to get away from Min by now. But the rest of the news is worse.

' 'That Amnion defensive was definitely hunting Trumpet.

Apparently Trumpet tried to hide in an asteroid swarm. Massif-5 is littered with them. Even though the defensive was under hard fire from Punisher, she parked herself outside the swarm and waited for Trumpet to show up.

"Which is another problem," he muttered. "How the hell did an Amnioni know Trumpet was in there?"

And what was Trumpet doing there in the first place?

What bizarre breakdown of reason or self-interest had inspired Nick Succorso to head for Massif-5, instead of turning himself over to the protection of Director Donner and Punisher?

But Warden didn't raise that question. Sourly he went on,

"When Trumpet finally showed herself, the defensive tried to hit her. Not just with matter cannon. She used a super-light proton gun. It's a miracle Trumpet is still alive.

"The miracle was that another ship appeared. She must have followed either Trumpet or the defensive all the way from forbidden space. And, no, I can't explain that, either," he growled, although Koina hadn't asked him to. "But she attacked just in time to help Punisher overload the Amnioni's sinks."

He paused as if he were swallowing indignation or shame, then said, "Now it gets even worse. When the defensive had to choose between killing Trumpet—

which was presumably her

whole reason for being there—

and saving herself, she saved

herself. She used her proton gun to destroy the other ship instead of Trumpet. Which gave Trumpet time to get away."

At last Koina did interject a question. "Why is that bad?"

She was foundering in new information; implications she couldn't assimilate. "Aren't we glad Trumpet is alive?"

"Of course we're glad," he retorted heavily. "What's bad is that the defensive made that decision. It raises the rather frightening possibility that she—

or the Amnion—

have other

responses available, responses we don't know about."

Like what? Koina wanted to ask; demand. She couldn't imagine what they might be. Despite everything she'd learned recently, she still had no idea what the real stakes were.

What did this have to do with the meaning of her life?

"Anyway," Warden resumed, "Punisher has been too badly hurt to finish the defensive on her own. She broke off the engagement to go after Trumpet. The Amnioni got away."

On that point, at least, Koina understood him. "I guess you're right," she muttered. Sorrow made her sound bitter.

"That is even worse."

Min Donner's decision may have been justified, correct, but it would taint the UMCP's already tarnished image.

"The risks are too great," he concluded. "I couldn't wait any longer. I had to tell Len what was happening."

More and more, Koina's grief came out as sarcasm. "Did you also tell Holt Fasner?"

"Actually, no." Warden's tone was stiff, but he didn't pause. "For some reason I've been too busy to contact Holt."

Which must have made the Dragon positively apoplectic.

Warden was already a dead man: the CEO simply hadn't had time to carry out his execution yet.

"That makes sense," she said trenchantly. "I guess." Of course Warden didn't want to give the Dragon a chance to countermand his suicide. "Well, for what it's worth, I concur.

You did the right thing. It was time to inform the Council."

For a moment her intercom emitted a troubled silence.

Then Warden asked uncomfortably, "Koina, what's bothering you?"

She wanted to retort, Nothing, I'm fine, what makes you think something bothers me? But she swallowed the impulse.

She was tired of lies. The thought of lying to protect Warden sickened her as much as ruining him with the truth.

"Do you still want Director Lebwohl to attend the emergency session?" she asked. Indecision weakened her: she could hardly keep the bereavement from her voice. "Can he take my place?"

Hashi might enjoy appalling Maxim Igensard with revelations.

"No," Warden returned. "I changed my mind. I need him here. And Fane might arrange an 'accident' for him down there. I don't want to risk that. Not until he finishes his investigation."

Cleatus Fane, Holt Fasner's First Executive Assistant, was still on Suka Bator. He would certainly be present for the emergency session.

"I think you're safe," Warden added in a hard tone. "But even if you aren't, I want you there."

Koina bit her lip. If she meant to tell the truth, she would have to go further.

"Director Dios—

" she began awkwardly. "Warden—

"

For a moment she couldn't put her pain into words. But then she forced herself to say, "Don't ask me to do this. Send someone else. Anyone—

"

"Why?" he demanded at once. "I thought you were glad for a chance to finally do your job right."

Come on, Koina, she told herself grimly. Say it. Get it off your chest. Then maybe you'll be able to make up your mind.

When she spoke, her voice was as clear as keening.

"Because this is going to finish you. It'll probably kill you. No matter what else happens, you'll be ruined. When he hears what I have to say, Igensard will cut you to pieces. And the Council won't help you—

they'll just sharpen the knives.

You won't have any allies left."

Even brave old Sixten Vertigus, who trusted the UMCP

and believed in Warden—

"I don't want to be the one who makes that happen.

There must be some other way to accomplish"—

emotion

thickened in her throat, and she faltered—

"whatever it is

you're trying for."

Still Warden didn't hesitate. He must have come to the end of his personal uncertainties. All his choices were plain.

"Listen to me, Koina," he ordered sharply. "Listen hard, because I'm only going to say this once.

"I've earned the right to pay for my crimes." His voice seemed to echo with absolute commitment. "All I want you to do is help me pay for them effectively. Help me bring something good out of all these lies and betrayals.