by Jaleta Clegg
"Why apologize to me? Jasyn is one of the few people I trust to set things up right."
"She's a bit impulsive, but she has good instincts about people." He turned into a shaded walk. "Tell me what Admiral Flanigan thinks he's accomplishing by confiscating ships."
"As far as I can tell, he's trying to strangle trade. None of the ships are good for anything other than target practice if he wants to field them. He's got most of the Patrol upset over his orders. And he's got the merchants running scared."
"And driving them into organizing against him. Are you sure he's the villain here? He's managed to strengthen our position enormously."
"Flanigan is too stupid to think things through that far. He's convinced the merchants are stupid. I doubt he anticipated the Patrol reaction. He expects them to follow orders, just as he would."
Will opened the door. The building was a converted house. There were tables and chairs set in various rooms in such a way to encourage private conversations. The staff knew Will. They were seated in a back room more private than the rest.
"What I can't figure out," Will said after they were served, "is what destroying the Empire will accomplish. Besides creating massive anarchy through the entire quadrant."
"Maybe that's their goal," Tayvis suggested. "Create a power vacuum so you can move in and fill it."
"They could do that easily enough, if their goal was to sit on the Council of Worlds. Or they could buy up enough businesses and run entire sectors that way. No, it doesn't make sense."
"But why is the Federation worried? You have more worlds, including the ag worlds."
"Because if the Empire falls, so do we," Will said quietly. "Civilization will disintegrate back to primitive levels. We need another decade, at least, before the Federation could manage without the resources of the Empire."
"Not to mention all the people who would die in the chaos," Tayvis said.
"That's the heart of the issue, the innocent people caught in the middle. People don't like change if it comes too quickly. We still need the Empire and the Emperor to keep things stable." He poked at his food with his fork. "Enough depressing thoughts for tonight. What do you think of our capital?"
"It's new," Tayvis hedged.
Will laughed. "All right, I get the point. What do you want to talk about?"
"Tell me everything you've heard about Cygnus Sector. The last time I was there, the only time, in fact, I was doing a population count of carnivores on Burundia. I ended up getting demoted and kicked out of Planetary Survey over it."
"That sounds like a good story."
"It isn't. Forget I mentioned it."
"What do you want to know about Cygnus?" Will let the matter slide. From the look in Tayvis' eyes, that story had to involve Dace. Will would bet good money that most of Tayvis' stories anymore featured her. It left few topics for them to talk about.
Tayvis didn't answer. He frowned at his plate. Will leaned forward, sensing something important.
"It can't be that easy," Tayvis muttered.
"What?"
Tayvis looked up. "The crime syndicates are behind it."
"We already know that."
"But I know how. And I know where. What I don't know is who or why. "
Will waited but Tayvis didn't say anything else.
"They aren't in Cygnus Sector, not anymore. They've moved somewhere closer to Linas-Drias where they have access to everything. Do you have a ship I can use?"
"Now? We haven't had dessert yet."
"We're running out of time."
"You can't have a ship until you explain yourself."
"Cygnus was the key before, except they drew attention to themselves by kidnapping Dace." He held up his hand to stop Will's questions. "I'll get you the reports if you want them, but not now. Later."
"So what's important about Cygnus?"
"They were setting up a merger, the crime syndicates and the sector government. They aren't planning on destroying the Empire, they want to take it over. They will if we can't stop them. Tell me, Will, how do you change traditions and laws that have been in place for centuries?"
"Very slowly."
"Exactly. They don't want to wait so they're forcing the issue. How many people sit on the Council of Worlds?"
"At least two hundred, as far as I know."
"Less now, but still too many. So they find a way to destroy the Council. And in the chaos, they step in to restore order. And in the process—"
"They take over and change things, in the name of keeping order. But what about the Emperor?"
"They replace him with someone who will take their orders," Tayvis said. "They don't need to destroy the Empire to take over. They just need a crisis sufficiently large. Although I don't think they were planning on the Federation and Roland."
"I don't think anyone was planning on Roland." Will pushed a bite of salad across his plate. "It makes sense except I can't see Governor Hesson dealing with the syndicates. She would never do that and Sector Chief Querran wouldn't let her if she tried."
"Not them, no, but the business owners are the real leaders in that sector. Some of them would do anything for a profit."
"How do we know they haven't already sold out to the syndicates then? This makes life even more complicated."
"Then help me get to Cygnus. I'll talk to the Gypsies there. If anyone has a clue about corruption in trade, it will be them."
Will nodded his agreement. "I'll do what I can to give you support. I think I know just the ship for you. Shall we go?"
"Sooner is better than too late."
Will led the way out of the restaurant. Tayvis followed him impatiently. It made sense, finally. It had almost taken him too long to figure it out. He had to move quickly if he wanted to stop them. At least with Will he didn't have to convince him to help. Will was already convinced of the danger.
They were at the spaceport as fast as Will could walk. The guards on the gates recognized him and let them through without stopping them.
"You need your luggage or anything?" Will asked.
"I left it in a locker. I wasn't sure what kind of welcome I'd get."
They detoured long enough to fetch his single bag.
Will walked quickly across the landing field, headed for a ship not far from the gate. The hatch was open, spilling light onto the plascrete field. The man standing at the foot of the ramp was vaguely familiar. The ship was a Patrol courier, fast, and lightly armed. The side had a patch of new silver paint where the Patrol logo used to be.
"Captain," Will called.
The man turned and Tayvis recognized him. He stiffened at the sight of Tayvis.
"Commander Tayvis," he said formally.
"Not for quite some time," Tayvis answered. "Captain Suweya, it's good to see you."
"What's going on here, if I may ask, Premier Smythe?" Suweya asked Will.
"I see you know each other," Will said. "That makes things simpler. Tayvis needs to get to Cygnus as soon as possible. I'm sure you can accommodate him."
"Do I get any explanation why I'm helping a known spy for the Empire?" Suweya asked.
"Do I dare ask how you ended up in the Federation?" Tayvis asked pointedly.
"Just pretend he's working for me," Will told Suweya. "It's close enough to the truth."
"As long as he doesn't pretend to be crew," Suweya said. "The last time it about caused a mutiny."
"I apologized, as much as you let me."
Suweya extended his hand. "Welcome aboard. Do you have any preference on what I should call you?"
"Tayvis is fine. I'm a private citizen now."
Suweya glanced at Will then back at Tayvis. "Welcome aboard, Tayvis. We can lift within an hour if we get priority clearance."
"Consider it done," Will said. "And good luck, Tayvis."
"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it."
Chapter 38
I spent a fruitless afternoon searching for evidence. I figured it would most likely be in a
n office. I couldn't find one, not in the time the butler gave me to look. He showed up after I opened the fourth door. He gave me a frosty frown.
"May I help you?" he asked. I sensed he wasn't willing to help me in any way whatsoever.
"I was looking for the library," I lied.
"If you wish entertainment, I will be happy to fetch it for you. Just specify the items you wish me to find." His attitude made it clear I'd be waiting a very long time for anything I requested.
"I just wanted to browse," I said, trying a different tactic. He didn't fall for it.
"A catalog can be made available, if you wish."
"I guess that will do."
"I will have it forwarded to the screen in your room."
"Thank you."
I left while I could. I had no idea there was a screen in my room. I went up the stairs and looked for it. There wasn't one, unless it was mounted on the underside of my mattress. I looked everywhere else with no luck.
By then it was getting dark. I wondered if the butler would bother serving me dinner. I decided I wasn't that hungry. I dragged a chair in from the sitting room and put it in front of my window. I watched the evening roll across the desert beyond the walls.
I had nightmares when I tried to sleep. They weren't some fancy of my imagination, they were real memories. I tossed and turned until I couldn't stand it any longer. I got up and wandered my rooms and fell asleep on the couch instead.
I was up early. The couch was lumpy and uncomfortable. I dressed, wondering why I bothered, then went downstairs to see if anyone was going to show up to breakfast.
Vance was slumped in a chair in the dining room. He glanced up when I walked in. He looked haggard. The dark circles under his eyes looked like bruises.
"How is Charise?" I asked sympathetically. I didn't like Charise, but Vance apparently did, more than he'd let on.
"She'll recover." He twisted his hands together. "If she were less experienced, or if it had happened anywhere else on that stretch of trail, she'd be dead."
I felt shivers again. "It wasn't an accident."
"There were burrs under the saddle. She mentioned the horse was acting skittish. Now we know why."
"It was meant for me," I said. No one would have any reason to know I had ridden horses before. Vance's words echoed in my head. Less experienced, anywhere else.
Vance glared. "It isn't always about you. Charise is in the hospital and all you can think about is yourself?"
"You were planning on riding with me. She joined us at the last moment. That horse was meant for me to ride, wasn't it?"
"I can't believe you, Dace." He slammed his way out of the room.
I felt as if I'd been slapped. I muttered a few choice oaths.
The server stood mutely near the kitchen door, silent witness to my argument with Vance. It was easy to forget they were there, always watching and listening. They were unobtrusive, almost furniture.
I grabbed a roll from the breakfast offerings and fled into the front garden.
The brown cat was sleeping on the bench again. It jerked awake as I came close. It eyed me warily, poised to run. I sat carefully on the far end of the bench.
"Go back to sleep," I said. "I won't hurt you."
The cat blinked. It didn't go back to sleep. It yawned.
I picked at my roll. I wondered if Vance's mother would let me go if I promised not to marry Vance. I doubted it. I was convinced she was behind the murder attempt, though I couldn't prove it.
The cat sniffed the roll, stretching its neck out. I picked off a crumb. It licked it off my finger. Its tongue was rough. The cat meowed. I fed it another bite. By the time the roll was gone, the cat was right next to me, one paw on my leg. The cat curled up on the bench, right next to me, and went to sleep.
I watched the sun move across the sky. I couldn't think of a plan that would have any chance of success. I could sneak out of my room at midnight and search the house, but I suspected the butler never slept. He'd find me and send me back to my room.
A flitter lifted off at midmorning, headed to the south. I sighed and scratched the top of the cat's head. I felt like an abandoned child, left behind.
It was getting hot. The cat stretched, shaking out its hind legs. It jumped lightly down and disappeared into the bushes. I followed its example and retreated inside the house where it was cooler.
I wandered the halls, peeking into open doors. The butler didn't materialize to scold me, so I grew bolder.
The rooms were similar. They were all pale blues and greens with the occasional splash of brighter color. The furniture was expensive carved wood. The floors were carpeted or not. I didn't really care. I saw nothing that would hint at subversive activities.
I came to the back of the house and opened a door. The room was definitely green. Plants grew along a row of tinted windows. The furniture was white and delicate. I stepped inside.
And wished I hadn't. Vance's mother sat with her back to the door. She had papers and things spread out across the table in front of her. She glanced up at me.
"Zeresthina, do sit, please," she said graciously.
"I'm sorry to hear about Charise," I said as I sat on a delicate white stool. I felt like a petitioner at the Emperor's throne, only the Emperor was a lot nicer. "Vance said she was expected to recover. That's good news."
"She will recover, eventually. It will mean your wedding will have to be postponed. I was hoping to invite her to be your maid of honor."
"I would love to have her at my wedding. We haven't set a date yet, so postponing the wedding won't be any trouble."
"Considering you haven't done any planning, it will have to be another six months. At the very least."
"I didn't know where to begin. I was hoping you would help me. You've done such a lovely job decorating your home. You're an expert at such things." I smiled and hoped my lies weren't too obvious.
She wasn't buying my flattery. She gave me a pinched smile. "Of course, dear. I would love to help you plan your wedding. I was just about to send Georges to fetch you." She spread a pile of fabric squares across the table. "Now, for your tablecloths, I think the oyster would suit better than the cream." She pointed at two of the squares.
They looked the same color to me. "I do think you're right," I said.
"It will enhance the pink in the roses. Now which weave?" She fingered the fabric.
I spent five deadly dull hours with her. She spent an hour on the tablecloths alone. All the fabric was fine with me. She could have suggested black wool with rubber edging and I would have agreed. By the end of the afternoon, she had finalized her tablecloth and napkin selections. She was still uncertain about the flower arrangements and the flatware. We hadn't even started on china dishes or dresses or anything else. I gushed over her choices. I may have overdone it, but Lady Candyce pretended not to notice. In return, I pretended not to notice that she loathed the very sight of me.
I escaped to my room, to change for dinner. I picked out a long dress in creamy white. It was the first thing I grabbed. I brushed my hair out and went to dinner when the maid tapped politely on my door. I smiled and thanked her. She gave me a startled glance, quickly hidden, as she closed my door behind me.
I heard voices downstairs. I swallowed a sudden nervous lump and walked into the dining room as if I owned it.
There were at least a dozen people in the room, all young, all wearing elegant evening clothes.
Vance was in the middle of the group. His face was flushed, his eyes too bright. He smiled and gestured with a full glass of dark liquid. "And here's the bride. You're looking particularly matrimonial tonight, Zeresthina." He slurred my name. He was drunk.
I smiled politely and pretended I didn't hear the crude comments of Vance's friends. The women around him smiled and greeted me and gave me sly measuring looks.
Georges the butler announced dinner in his somber voice. He looked like he was presiding at a funeral.
"Dinner, dear," I said t
o Vance through gritted teeth. I took his glass from him and set it on a table. "Shall we?"
"Of course we shall." His breath was heavy with alcohol. He led me into the dining room, his friends trailing behind us.
Vance's mother wasn't at dinner. She claimed to be exhausted and dined in her room. I was envious. I should have thought of an excuse. The dinner was tedious. Vance's friends were loud. They told a lot of dirty jokes and made sly innuendoes. One of the women had a raucous laugh that grated across my nerves. I sat quietly and ate my dinner without making any comments. No one made any effort to include me as anything more than the subject of some of the worst jokes. I smiled and pretended I wasn't offended.
Dessert was finally served.
"Let's go into the gardens," one of the men suggested, leering at the woman sitting next to him. "I hear the moons are especially romantic tonight."
"You just hope to get lucky," the woman answered. "But not with me."
The others erupted in laughter.
"I can keep hoping." He got up and pulled her to her feet.
She laughed and protested, but she went. The others followed. Vance took my arm and dragged me with them. The night air was chilly. I could smell the clean desert, barely hidden under the perfume of the garden's flowers.
"I'm cold, Firth," one of the women said, giggling and batting her eyes at one of the men. He put both arms around her. She squealed loudly and pushed him away.
I walked away from the group. Vance followed me. I pretended to admire a bush of pale flowers. Vance picked one and pushed it into my hair. He grinned lopsidedly at me. The grin didn't touch his eyes. They were sad, almost apologetic.
One of his friends noticed us. He said something too low for me to catch. The rest of the group erupted in suggestive laughter. They circled us. Three of the men started singing a bawdy song, one I'd never heard in even the roughest dockside bar. It was suggestive enough to be banned there. They were laughing, their eyes cruelly mocking me as they sang.
"Enough, Garret," Vance said, pushing the ringleader away. "Play nice or I'll send you back home."
"At least he's marrying her," one of the women said. "You have to honor him for that."