They walked up the ramp and through the empty transport to the Lancer’s private cabin. This time the door stood open, and Lancer Tal and Raiz Opah were waiting on the far side of the conference table. Gehrain closed the door behind them and took the seat next to Aldirk.
“Are we ready?” Lancer Tal asked.
“Yes,” Aldirk said, “but before we start, may I congratulate Raiz Opah? I saw your media conference on one of the local stations. Very well done, I must say. You gave the world something to talk about. Our new Bondlancer is clearly not going to be a meek and quiet armband for the Lancer.”
“‘Armband’ is not the first thing anyone would imagine when they think of Salomen,” said Lancer Tal. “Not if they’ve ever interacted with her.”
“Neither is meek…and especially not quiet.” Raiz Opah turned her head to smile at her bondmate, and Aldirk’s eyes widened when he saw the marks on her neck. A closer look at the Lancer revealed a similar mark. He was certain it hadn’t been there this morning. Goddess above, when had they found the time? The woman really didn’t sleep. And judging by the size of Opah’s marks, Lancer Tal was an aggressive lover.
That was not something he wanted to know.
Lancer Tal’s answering smile made Aldirk feel as if he shouldn’t even be in the same room, but when Raiz Opah turned to him, her expression was serious. “Thank you, Chief Counselor. I admit to being a bit nervous. But it’s really no different than addressing a caste house meeting. In fact, they were less combative than a roomful of producers.”
Since he couldn’t imagine a roomful of producers, he would take her word for it. “Then it appears that your caste house meetings were excellent practice. I’ll enjoy watching your first Blacksun conference. The journalists there will no doubt have learned from watching your performance here.”
“I look forward to it as well,” said Lancer Tal. “But we have a little matter of a caste coup to deal with at the moment. Shall we?” She pressed a recessed control, activating the vidcom unit, and everyone turned to face the screen.
Colonel Razine appeared almost immediately. She took in the group at a glance and said, “Ah, you’ve already established Chief Counselor Aldirk’s loyalty. If you hadn’t, I was looking forward to giving you at least that bit of good news.”
“That doesn’t bode well for the rest of it,” Lancer Tal said.
“That depends on what you hoped to gain from the extraction session.”
Aldirk concealed a shudder at her casual use of the phrase.
“I hoped to gain enough information to cut Shantu’s legs out from under him.”
Razine shook her head. “Then I won’t be able to give you good news. Parser doesn’t know what Shantu’s plans are. He was assured that if they lost their leverage with Herot Opah and could not pursue Parser’s alternative, Shantu would have an effective back-up plan. Beyond that, he knows no details because he instructed Shantu to tell him nothing. It appears he anticipated that you might call in his tiles, Lancer Tal. He carefully divided his resources so that if he were pulled off the game board, Shantu would still be a player.”
“That sounds like something he would say.” Lancer Tal sighed. “Well, what do we know?”
“We know how far he was willing to go to ensure your compliance. And how he learned your greatest weakness.” Razine glanced at Raiz Opah. “I’m sorry, but this will probably be difficult for you to hear.”
“I already know it’s about Herot. Go on.”
Looking back at the Lancer, Razine said, “Parser wanted to know why you weren’t taking advantage of the publicity opportunities at Hol-Opah, so he sent an employee to Granelle to nose around. The employee learned that Herot could be found almost every night at the Harvester.”
“The most disreputable tavern in Granelle, yes,” Raiz Opah said resignedly. “Is that where he found Withernet?”
“No, he found Withernet by checking the finances of Granelle merchants and learning who was in trouble. Withernet was happy to accept a substantial fee in exchange for switching his normal tavern choice to the Harvester. All he had to do was sit, drink, and listen, and he collected a great deal of information. Your brother was not quiet while complaining about the Lancer’s presence on his holding.”
“Hol-Opah is not Herot’s holding. It’s mine.”
Aldirk glanced over, startled by Opah’s tone.
“I understand that,” Razine said. “My apologies. I was quoting Parser.”
“No, I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge about Herot. Please continue.”
Razine nodded. “It was through Herot’s conversations with his friends, mostly Cullom Bilsner, that Parser learned about Lancer Tal’s affection for Jaros. He knew that she pulled Herot off Jaros in a fight one morning and gave him a lesson in courtesy. Of course, Herot’s version of that was probably somewhat skewed. He also knew that Jaros walked to and from school every day at the same time, unaccompanied, and he knew all about Lancer Tal defending Jaros against the three boys who bullied him. The fact that she went so far as to take those boys to the Pit for a lesson of their own is what cemented Parser’s initial choice. He planned to have Jaros kidnapped while he was walking home from school.” She paused. “The kidnapping was scheduled for the day after the assassination attempt.”
Raiz Opah gave a perceptible shudder and crossed her arms over her chest, gripping her upper arms tightly. Behind her, the Lancer reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“I never thought I’d be glad Bilsner took that shot,” she said. “But that was what put Herot in Parser’s targeting lens instead of Jaros.”
“Parser saw at a glance that Herot could be your political downfall. He had his network looking for him from the moment the assassination attempt hit the news. I think it’s something of a testament to Herot that he managed to avoid Parser’s net as long as he did.” Razine cleared her throat. “But until he realized you had survived, Parser was furious about that attempt. Withernet exceeded his orders. Parser thought he had wasted moons of effort and planning.”
“Because he didn’t want a new Lancer. He told me he had the trap set and didn’t want to have to do it all over again with someone else.”
“That was half of the truth,” Razine said. “He preferred to have you under his control and be done with it, and he was reasonably sure that his initial trap would work. He was more certain that even if it didn’t, if you were actually willing to fight it out with him in the public arena, a subsequent warning delivered via Jaros would be sufficient. That warning would not have been a mere ransoming but a contract killing, made to look like an accident.”
Startled by a searing blast of rage, Aldirk turned to look before he could stop himself.
Lancer Tal leaned toward her bondmate. “Salomen,” she whispered, and a moment later the emotion was cut off.
“Please tell me that extraction process hurts,” Raiz Opah said in a voice Aldirk would not have recognized. “I want to know.”
“That depends on how much empathic force is required for the desired results,” said Razine. “Parser was very determined to resist. He is now recovering in the healing unit on base.”
A shiver ran down Aldirk’s spine, but all Raiz Opah said was, “Good.”
“What was the other half of the truth, Colonel?” Lancer Tal asked.
“One moment, please.” Razine took a quick sip from a glass of water, her hand shaking slightly.
Aldirk stared in horrified fascination. That tremor came from the extreme energy output required for prolonged empathic force, which meant Razine herself had done the extraction. Looking from her shaking hand to her calm, stern face, he marveled at the kind of mentality a warrior must have to perpetrate so much harm on another being and then go about her business with such a matter-of-fact attitude.
He was very glad to be
on the right side of these people.
Razine put her glass down. “Parser knew there was a chance that you could not be controlled, so he was simultaneously working toward putting Shantu in power. Shantu had no idea of Parser’s true corruption, but he was certainly amenable to the idea of taking the title and putting an end to your implementation plan for the matter printers. He’s also never forgiven you for the Voloth asylum vote. Apparently, he didn’t stop to consider that his direct involvement in the kidnapping and murder of a civilian was the very thing that would give Parser an unbreakable hold on him. He simply saw it as a necessary means to the noble end of saving Alsea from your misguided policies, and Parser played on that.”
Lancer Tal shook her head. “So he made Shantu his insurance policy by virtue of his involvement. I hate to admit it, but it was an elegant plan.”
“I don’t find it elegant at all,” Raiz Opah said. “That man is a heartless monster.”
“For him it’s just business. If I hadn’t cooperated, Herot would have turned up dead, my Guards and I would have been implicated, and Shantu could have risen up as the righteous warrior who would sweep the corruption out of the State House. I’d have been fighting both him and Parser, and the warrior caste would have swung behind Shantu when my reputation was destroyed.”
“Precisely,” Razine said. “Parser had every possible path covered. He would get his desired outcome whether you cooperated or not: a Lancer who was under his control. And then he would have what he really wanted—what this whole thing was all about. Through his various companies, which would quietly be given all the contracts by secret order of the Lancer, he would end up owning all of the commerce in the space elevator station and eventually, the space dock. He already had secret agreements with former Ambassador Frank regarding the import and export markets.”
“Great Mother.” Aldirk couldn’t believe all of this had happened without even a hint reaching him. “He really was planning ahead. That would have made him the richest man on Alsea.”
“What a master manipulator,” Lancer Tal said. “No wonder he was so furious about the assassination attempt. Had I died, Shantu could have stepped into the title and Parser would have had no hold on him. All that planning for naught.”
“Wait.” Raiz Opah was shaking her head. “Are you telling me that all of this…this horror, it was just about wealth?”
“It was about more wealth than most of us can even imagine,” Aldirk said. “And an influence forevermore not just in Alsean politics, but in Protectorate politics as well. Parser wasn’t just setting himself up for life. He was planning a dynasty.”
The room was silent.
“And it all came crashing down because of the one thing he couldn’t predict,” Lancer Tal said at last. “Salomen’s empathic strength.”
“Our empathic strength,” Raiz Opah corrected. “And Colonel Micah’s quick thinking.”
Razine picked up her glass again. “That reminds me. The explosives were Parser’s idea as well. He had great respect for your ingenuity, Lancer Tal. While he could barely credit the thought that you might actually find Herot, he planned a way to turn it to his advantage just in case.”
“And if the alarm had been raised just two ticks earlier, that plan would have worked. Did you find out who owned the house?”
“Parser used one of his illegal enterprises to funnel cinteks to a representative who purchased the home for Shantu. No financial trail to either of them, and Parser never knew its location.”
“Well, we can only hope that Shantu isn’t as good as Parser. Do you have any idea at all what he might be planning?”
“None. I’m sorry, but I pressed particularly hard on that one. Parser simply doesn’t know. He didn’t want to.”
Lancer Tal turned to face Aldirk and Gehrain. “Any ideas you might have would be welcome. The only thing I can think is that it must have something to do with the Voloth asylum and breaking Fahla’s covenant. Those are my only political vulnerabilities, now that we have Herot. The matter printers would have been a vulnerability last moon, but public opinion has swung back to my side.”
“Not all of it,” Aldirk said. “You have the majority of the public on your side, yes. But the economist coalition’s report had a powerful impact. There were dissenters before it came out, and there were more after. They may be a minority, but they’re a frightened and less-educated minority. Those are the very people who are most easily swayed by simple rhetoric, which is what Shantu will offer. If he can add that bloc to the war criminal bloc, he’ll have a decent-sized base.”
“But he’s in no place to be offering any rhetoric. I don’t think being a wanted criminal figured into his plan. So how will he reach those people?”
“By privately reaching the Councilors who agree with them.”
She nodded. “You’re right. That’s the only route he has left.”
“Parser gave him that bloc,” Razine said. “He’s the one who arranged that report.”
“What?” Lancer Tal’s tone was sharp. “Darzen Fosta wrote that report. Was she in Parser’s employ?”
“Yes, but she didn’t know it. He used an intermediary and a dummy philanthropic organization to offer her research funding. It was enough for her to take a leave of absence from her position and spend six moons working on the report and organizing the signatories.”
“He certainly had his web spread all over Alsea.” Aldirk couldn’t help feeling a grudging respect. “How did he know that this obscure economist in Whitesun would be able and willing to devote six moons to that?”
“I didn’t ask,” Razine said. “That didn’t seem important. The fact remains that Parser arranged for the report which undermined Lancer Tal’s support and which may give Shantu the base he needs. He did know two of the Councilors currently backing Shantu for a coup: Zalringer and Denson.”
“Not surprising,” Aldirk said. “Those are his closest cronies on the Council. They would agree with him if he proposed changing the warrior caste color to purple.”
“I would have guessed those names as well,” said Lancer Tal. “They don’t really help us. What we need to know is, which of the other Councilors might be in agreement? Are there enough for him to make a stand?”
The three of them began discussing names, political histories, and voting records. Aldirk kept track on his reader card, and sixty ticks later they had as clear a picture as they were likely to get with their current information. To go any deeper, he would have to put his information network in high gear.
But it was good enough for now. They had seven Councilors likely to join Shantu, thirteen considered loyal to Lancer Tal, and nine whose loyalties might be swayed.
“It seems to me that the one thing Shantu needs more than any other is time,” Lancer Tal said. “It takes time to line up loyalties, and he couldn’t start that process earlier without word getting to me. He had to wait for Parser’s plan to play itself out. If we hold an emergency Council session and share everything we know, including Herot’s testimony, we’ll almost certainly bring several of these nine to our side. And we only need three of them to break Shantu’s chance at a majority vote. Without that, he’ll have a very hard time convincing the warrior caste, particularly given the charges against him.”
“Tomorrow is too soon,” Aldirk said. “Some of the Councilors need time to travel to Blacksun. The day after tomorrow will be the soonest we could do it.”
The room was quiet as the Lancer considered.
“Tell your office to make the calls,” she said. “We’re flying back to Blacksun as soon as Healer Elwyn will let us move Colonel Micah. And give me a list of calls to make to start rounding up our support. You and I can divide that between us.”
The meeting broke up soon after. Lancer Tal and Raiz Opah stayed to speak further with Razine—probably about Herot, Aldirk
guessed—and Gehrain followed him down the corridor.
“Chief Counselor, a moment?”
Aldirk turned at the transport door. “Yes?”
The Head Guardian looked uncomfortable. “If Colonel Micah were here, would he have contributed to that discussion? Does he know the politics and history of the Councilors the way you and Colonel Razine and Lancer Tal do?”
Not nearly the way I do, was Aldirk’s first thought, but then he reminded himself where the colonel was at the moment. It was one thing to denigrate him while he was healthy and capable of fighting back; it was something else when he was injured and unconscious.
“He knows quite a bit, yes. Why do you ask?”
“Because all the time I was sitting in there with nothing to offer, I was thinking about how much I’d have to learn to fill the Colonel’s position.” Gehrain looked at him with clear hazel eyes. “I pray it doesn’t come to that, but I may be knocking on your door someday for a few lessons.”
Aldirk stared at him. Until that moment, he hadn’t consciously considered the possibility of Colonel Micah actually Returning. Certainly, he knew the details of his injuries and the ongoing effort to bring him back, but Shantu’s treachery had occupied all of his attention since his arrival. Now he looked at the man who might become Chief Guardian and knew that for all his determination and effort, Gehrain would still need several cycles to come up to the colonel’s level.
“If it does come to that, you’re welcome to knock on my door,” he said.
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 37