Teng smiled to himself. That I believe. Justin wants me right here making bundles of money for him. "Then what is it that you want?"
The Mandrinn smiled as politely as he could manage. "The Chancellor asks that you turn all the MechWarriors in your stable over to us to fight in the war. You realize, I am sure, what it would mean for the war effort. Here on Solaris, you are fortunate that the war does not touch you."
Teng narrowed his brown eyes. "I beg to differ with you, Mandrinn. The war does touch us here. Since hostilities began, the number of championship-caliber fighters on Solaris has dropped by 50 percent. That's part of the reason the Teng/Xiang stable has done so well. All our competition is off dying out of sight of the holovid cameras."
Qua blinked his eyes and stared at Teng with the look of disbelief that only a bureaucrat can master. "I don't understand. What are you telling me? Don't you know how much the war with the Federated Suns is hurting you? Don't you want to see the war end?"
Teng laughed aloud, slapping the table hard enough to make the kincha bowl bounce a few centimeters into the air. "Oh, by all the gods, I do want the war to end. Do you realize that my revenues have dropped by 30 percent since the war began? I'd worked a deal for distribution in the Draconis Combine, but now the damned Dragons won't allow the broadcast of fights in which Mech Warriors from House Davion, Steiner, or Kurita fight—and no one wants to watch fights between just Capellans and Leaguers. I just got a call from the current champion's manager. He said my bond of 50,000 C-bills would be forfeit if I didn't find Don Gilmore a suitable challenge within a month, but I've got no one capable of fighting him right now. And this damned Interdiction by ComStar just knocked my best market out of the picture. I've not got the numbers for June yet, but I'm betting my books will be hemorrhaging C-bills when I do. And now you want me to give you my warriors? Are you mad?"
Qua's face drained of blood, making him paler even then the meat of the kincha. His mouth hung agape, then his jaw closed and his black eyes became slits. "Need I remind you, Fuh Teng, that you are a Maskirovka operative. I have rank on you, and I could order you to turn those fighters over to me."
Fuh Teng stiffened. "Order me?" He folded his hands on the table, rubbing his thumbs together in irritation. "Have you not heard a word I've said, or haven't I made myself clear? Wake up, Mandrinn! The war is over. It's old news. This is the game world, and those of us who make our living here are used to picking winners and losers. Your side is definitely a loser."
Teng hit a switch at his end of the table and gave an order to the computer controlling the holovid display. "Patch in the political map of the Capellan Confederation, with the projections for the next wave of the Davion invasion."
At his command, the screen blanked, then flashed up a map of the Capellan Confederation. Each of the Davion invasion waves was overlaid in different shades of blue. The symbols designating several worlds in the Sarna Commonality flashed, indicating the local odds-makers' belief that they were next on the path to war.
Qua stared at the map like a teetotaler watching a beer-blast erupting in his own home. "This... this..." he sputtered, pointing a shaky finger at the screen. "This is treason!"
Fuh Teng shook his head slowly. "No, it's reality. The odds-makers say that the next Davion wave will come early in September, but my money is on August 15th to the 20th. Got two to one odds on that bet." Teng pointed to the Liao world closest to the center of the map. "Not only do I have money on how quickly Palos will fall, but I've arranged to have three cases of Palos champagne shipped here through the DavionISteiner military liaison office."
Qua slumped forward on the table. Teng patted the Mandrinn's left arm with is right hand. "Listen, old boy. I can fix it up for you here. You're a smart man. Forget your mission—the whole game will be up by the new year. I have a place for you here, in my organization."
Qua batted Teng's hand away. Turning toward the battle-promoter, his anger melted the mask of diplomacy he'd worn. "You pig! You filthy, gutter-dwelling pig! You'd put your personal profits and well-being above that of the Capellan Confederation." He picked up the knife Teng had given him earlier. "I'll kill you if you don't give me those fighters."
Teng drew back, then let a smile play across his lips. "This is your last chance to accept my offer, Mandrinn Qua. Refuse at your own peril."
Qua smiled with open joy. "I spit on your offer." He inched his way forward along the bench. "I will enjoy this."
Teng spun quickly from his chair toward the curtained alcove opening. Qua lunged at him, but missed and lay sprawled out over the table. The curtain slid aside and two men stood on either side of Fuh Teng with guns drawn and pointed at the Mandrinn.
On Fuh Teng's right, the taller one grinned. "Lyran Intelligence Corps, Mandrinn. You're under arrest for an attempt to coerce treason from a Lyran citizen, assault with intent to kill, and violation of a dozen immigration laws."
"You see," Fuh Teng said as the knife slipped from Qua's fingers and clattered against the floor. "I told you the war was over." Qua glared up at him venomously, and Teng added, "By the way, this was only business. The odds were six to one against you being angry enough to try to cut me, but I had confidence in you." He shrugged. "Remember, as within, so without. The Capellan Confederation is finished."
25
New Avalon
Cruets March, Federated Suns
20 July 3029
Hanse Davion looked up from his desk as Quintus Allard entered his office. Seeing the confident smile on his Intelligence Minister's face, he took heart in it. "I think this is the first time I've seen you wear a grin since this war began." The Prince came from behind his desk and waved Quintus to a brown leather chair as he seated himself on the padded arm of another.
The white-haired spymaster dropped into the chair and looked up at the Prince. "I think this is the first time operations have gone as well as we could have hoped."
Hanse smiled. After Misha's arrival yesterday, and the news of the assassination attempt on the Archon, good news is something I could use. "Well, don't keep it to yourself."
Quintus nodded, then looked at his compad. "First of all, Alexi Malenkov managed to get a short message out through Liao operatives to one of our people on Solaris. Though the message took seven weeks to arrive here, the DropShip that brought Ms. Auburn also brought word that the holodisk we recovered from Bethel actually did come from Candace Liao. Malenkov confirmed that Justin left it behind—or he assumes that because the dead Maskirovka agent worked for Romano Liao."
Hanse rubbed his chin, considering this news. Internecine battling can do little to help the Liao war effort. "Do you think Romano knows her sister has sent us what could be considered a friendly communication? Her agent could have been an attempt to steal it away and use it against Candace."
Quintus shook his head. "As we know from Romano's past actions, she never worries about needing proof of guilt before she acts. You will recall the terrorist attack on Kittery that she sponsored, and the attempt her assassin made on my life at your wedding. We even believe that Elizabeth Liao's absence of late may mean that she has run afoul on Romano. That one is very like her father—too much so for my peace of mind. She's as unstable and explosive as nitroglycerine."
"I understand that, Quintus, but I wonder if she's strong enough to oust Candace from her position as Heir Apparent?" The Prince slid from the chair's arm onto the seat. "Was the agent at Bethel there to kill Justin because of something he did to Romano, or was Romano trying to kick away Candace's support structure?"
Allard shrugged heavily. "I am not certain because I don't think Romano views problems that way. She strikes out at people without considering the consequences. It is similar to Maximilian Liao's attempt to substitute a double to take your place. If not for Ardan Sortek, he would have succeeded. But if he had guessed what his failure would mean, Liao would never have tried in the first place."
Remembering that plot and all the horror it had cost him and Ard
an, Hanse felt an old but persistent fury. Liao's plan was all but perfect. Had Maximilian's inside people been able to discredit or dishonor Ardan, the Federated Suns would have been his in one subtle move. Fortunately, Ardan was able to prove I was the real Hanse Davion. The Prince forced himself to smile briefly. "I wonder, Quintus ... Is Max capable of imagining himself a failure? It's hard to believe he would have backed away from so perfect a plan to eliminate me, no matter what the risks."
"You may be right, my Prince, but not every Liao family member is so irrational. His son, Tormana, has taken well to life here as a prisoner of war on New Avalon, and Candace's warm message to you suggests that she sees the phosphors glowing on a monitor." Quintus tapped a button on his compad. "In fact, Data Interp suggests that Candace has allowed St. Ives province to be denuded of JumpShips so we won't strike at it. She's gambling that an unspoken, unilateral agreement not to attack the Federated Suns will earn equal consideration on your part."
Hanse closed his eyes in thought. If we need not fear a strike from the St. Ives Commonality, I can move the troops stationed on Kittery to help with the main body of the invasion. When he opened his eyes, the Prince smiled like a fox watching a hen house. "Yes, I think her gesture has earned such consideration. Let us move the Kittery forces up to help with the sixth wave of the invasion. Will they make it in time?"
Quintus nodded. "They will. The betting on Solaris still favors a strike after the start of September. If we go off in mid-August, we'll steal a march on anyone expecting us to hit later."
The Prince stretched. "Anything else?"
Quintus nodded. "We got the first report on Ridzik's strikes into the Free Worlds League. His troops struck deep into Marik territory and knocked the Leaguers back pretty hard. I think they'll counter-strike at Talitha, but Ridzik will see that attack coming and parry it. The Lyran Commonwealth came down on the coreward worlds behind Ridzik's lines and mopped up easily."
The Prince interlaced his fingers nervously. "Will there be trouble on any of the worlds where Melissa will be traveling?"
Quintus hesitated, and Hanse instantly realized he was about to rehash an old argument. "No, Highness, I do not expect trouble at the worlds in the occupied territory or in the Tikonov Free Republic. Still, I do not think it wise to return your wife to the Lyran Commonwealth on a command circuit that uses inhabited worlds in enemy territory."
The Prince's expression darkened. "What would you have me do, Quintus? I refuse to send her back through uninhabited solar systems. If a single JumpShip has a helium failure, she'll be stuck there—and with this damned Interdiction, I'd never know about it. No. She must go through inhabited worlds so repairs could take place in case of an accident."
Quintus rubbed his fingertips against his temples. "Highness, I understand your concern about helium failures, and I respect that concern. What I fear—treachery on Ridzik's part—could be avoided by sending Melissa back through the Terran Corridor."
Hanse shook his head sharply. "And risk another Kurita incursion? Last January, they almost cut us off on that frontier. We know all their strength is not committed to the battle with Wolf's Dragoons in the Galedon district, nor is it involved in driving back Lyran troops. Need I remind you that Melissa and her JumpShip were abducted from Fomalhaut two years ago?"
The Prince glared defiantly at the spymaster. "Ardan will order Ridzik to clear his troops from the systems through which Melissa will travel, and we'll be done with the problem. Kurita will not strike into Tikonov, and Liao cannot strike there." Quintus stood abruptly. "Listen to yourself, Highness! If it were anyone else, you'd be thinking more rationally. Nothing happened to Misha Auburn on her journey here through the Terran Corridor. That way is safe—safer, to my mind, than the path you have selected."
Hanse drew in a deep breath and forced his anger to dissipate. How do I explain my sense of doom whenever he mentions Melissa traveling through the Terran corridor? I know his objections are valid, and I should heed his advice, but I can't. I know, somehow, that if Melissa travels through the Corridor, I will never see her alive again.
Hanse exhaled slowly. "Quintus, old friend, please try to understand. I know what you are saying, and I hear the wisdom of your words." Hanse opened and closed his hands as if unable to grasp what he really wanted to say. "Trust me. Do what I have asked. The decision is made, and to change it now would invite disaster."
The plea in the Prince's voice touched something within his Minister. Quintus capitulated with a weary nod. "The orders went out for Ardan to relay to Ridzik yesterday, so it would be difficult to change things now." He gave the Prince a reassuring smile. "I do trust you and your judgment, sire. But I must make sure, for the sake of the nation, that you do as well."
The Prince stood and offered Quintus his hand. Gripping the older man's hand tightly, he pumped his arm firmly. "I doubt I will ever be able to repay you for the sacrifices and services performed by the Allard family, but I want you to know they do not go unappreciated. You give me a luxury only the leader of a great state can truly cherish—someone whom I can trust implicitly."
Quintus lifted his head high. "And you, Highness, have given the same gift to me." Quintus broke his grip with the Prince. "By the way, on a totally different subject, your decision to funnel the liquor and foodstuffs that arrived from the Lyran Commonwealth into a random distribution network has done wonders for morale here on New Avalon. People are already referring to it as the Lyran Lottery, and voter registration has climbed sharply over the last two days so more people will be eligible for the drawings."
The Prince clapped his hands. "Excellent! I'd hoped for good results from that move. Two things I do not want on New Avalon are charges of elitism among the nobility, and a thriving black market in consumer goods. That's why I was so glad to hear of your daughter and Morgan organizing an impromptu party for the folks at the hospital."
Quintus smiled proudly. "Riva was pleased that all the media attention for the party has resulted in an upturn in volunteers at the hospital. I guess it takes some exposure to let people know others have suffered far worse in the war than they have." Quintus ran his fingers through his white hair. "The newsvid coverage of the event made many people realize how many wounded warriors at the NAIS are far from their homes and that their loneliness is sometimes worse than their wounds."
Hanse tapped his left index finger against his chin as he thought. "Good point. I think we should encourage more contact between the citizenry and the warriors at the NAIS Medical Center. We need to show that the people on New Avalon are concerned for the sons and daughters of people from the frontiers." He fixed Quintus with his gaze. "Even though Michael is gone, those who backed him still might be encouraged to stir up trouble now that the war has become more difficult and costly."
The Minister of Intelligence, Information, and Operations bowed his head. "Consider it done, sire. We've struck the head from the snake. Now we'll make sure its thrashing does no harm."
26
New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
20 July 3029
Blue-white moonlight fell across Melissa's face as she slept. Standing in the shadowed doorway to their bedroom, Hanse watched the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and smiled. Sleep well, Melissa, for tomorrow a DropShip will carry you away from me again.
With that thought, a sadness bubbled up inside of him. He recognized it instantly and grappled with it like a physical foe that he could break and conquer. The emotion evaded the logical traps he set for it, then spread like a fog throughout his body, bringing with it fatigue.
Hanse stepped into the room, and turning away from the bed, slowly unbuttoned his uniform jacket. He was sad that she had to leave, yet felt guilty over the deception that had kept her here— a virtual prisoner on a world he hoped she would come to know and love as he did.
"Hanse, what's wrong?" she whispered.
He composed his face in a smile and turned slowly to face her. "Nothing,
dearest."
Sitting up in bed, with the moonlight glinting in gold highlights from her hair and electric blue from her silken nightgown, Melissa looked like a goddess. She draped her arms casually around her knees, but the look in her gray eyes pierced his soul. "Please, tell me. I know it's no catastrophe because you're here, and not in your 'den' dealing with it. That means it's something inside you ... something you cannot share with your advisors." She held out a hand to him. "That means it is something you must share with me."
Hanse walked around the end of the bed and sat on its edge facing her. He took her hands in his, then swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for how you've been treated here, and I'm incredibly reluctant to see you go."
Melissa gave his fingers a squeeze. "What are you talking about, Hanse? I'm very happy here ..."
The Prince touched the fingertips of his right hand to her lips. "Don't say that to make me happy, because I know it's not true." He stood up and looked out through the gauzy curtain over the window. "I saw your face light up when Misha stepped off the Caracol. In that instant, you were the happiest you've been since we married."
Her denial came quickly, but lacked just enough emphasis to convince the Prince it was the complete truth. "That's not true, Hanse."
The Prince smiled, clasping his hands behind his back. "Ah, but it is, Melissa. You're a social creature. I've watched you charm all those who have met you, and I've watched you deftly deflect Morgan Hasek-Davion's thoughts away from his desire for a command time and time again." He turned toward her. "I've kept you in a gilded cage and denied you the freedom to be yourself. We did not even travel here together, you and I, from the wedding. Had I the chance to do it again, it would be different."
Melissa stared toward the darkness at the end of the bed. "Who is to say I would want it any different?"
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