“And how long will this go on?”
“As long as it has to,” said the agent, stopping for a moment so the Marines could check the elevator. “Our orders are to protect you at all costs, ma’am. You are vital to the running of this station, after all.”
I just want to go back to having a normal life, thought Lucille, shaking her head. She thought again of the prison they had taken her from, the indignities she had been subjected to, and thought that she would take this over that.
The cafeteria was not crowded. There were some people there, eating before going back to whatever shift they were on. The IIA agents and some more Marines were already there, and Lucille was led to a table well off from those of the other patrons. The food was brought to the table and scanned. Lucille sat before the meal, not feeling as hungry as before, but knowing she needed to fuel. She looked up at the agent and caught his eye.
“Sit down, please,” she told him. “I can’t enjoy the company of my peers, so I guess you are my only choice.”
The agent took another look around, then took the seat opposite hers.
“I didn’t mean that last comment to sound like that,” said Lucille with a grimace.
“That’s quite alright, ma’am,” said the agent. “I know it has to be hard on you. But we don’t want you spirited away to someplace we don’t know about, so we do what we must.”
Lucille nodded her head, thinking of all the security that had been put in place since the assassination of the Emperor. Too late for him, but maybe enough to safeguard the facility.
“So, how did they get in this time?” she asked the young agent, taking up a forkful of noodles. “I thought the wormhole gate was secure, and you were checking everyone.” She then took a bite of her noodles and looked at the man’s face.
“The gate is secure,” said the man, his eyes always moving across the cafeteria. “Anyone coming across is checked thoroughly. But there were already undercover agents on the Donut. And there will probably be more coming in by ship. Because you are so far in a gravity well that may not happen for at least a couple of days to a week.”
“And what will they do if they catch me alone?”
“We don’t think they’ll kill you, if that’s what worries you,” said Chung, looking into her eyes in a manner that sent a thrill up her spine. “They might try to kidnap you, bring you back to a detention facility so they can continue their scapegoating. Though we cannot for the Universe figure on how they would do that.”
“So why the heavy security?”
“Because the Admiral wants it,” said the agent with a shrug of his shoulders. “And he is in good with my boss.”
Thinking about the detention facility she had been rescued from, she was glad to have the security. Anything that allowed her to do her work was a good thing.
“High Admiral Lenkowski wishes to schedule a conference at your earliest convenience,” said the voice of her AI over the link.
“Tell him I can talk to him in ten minutes,” she replied over the link.
“I’ve got to hurry,” she told Chung, then took a last forkful of food into her mouth.
“I’ve received the updated itinerary,” said the agent, giving a hand signal to another agent.
Within eight minutes Lucille Yu was back in her office, sitting at the desk and waiting for the connection. The Admiral was over forty light hours away through normal space. If he was still in orbit around Jewel that would place him at much less than a light second from the central docks, where the wormhole gate to the Donut was located.
Right on time the holo formed in the chair on the other side, the figure of the Admiral. Except for the slight shimmering transparency it looked as if the man really occupied the seat.
“Dr. Yu,” said the Chief of Naval Operations. “How goes it?”
“I feel like I’m trapped with all this security around me,” said Lucille, raising her hand before the man could reply. “I understand the need for it, and it sure beats being in a cell. But it’s not the environment I prefer.”
“I know you’re a scientist, used to intellectual and personal freedom,” said the Admiral after a small delay. “But we need you there, not in some damned cell being messed with.”
“And I thank you for that,” said Yu with a smile. “I assume you have been able to keep the long arm of the law from interfering with your business.”
The Admiral laughed for a moment. “It’s surprising what twenty million tons of battleship can do to keep that long arm at a distance. But what about your work? How is wormhole production going?”
“I have some good news there,” said Lucille, letting a smile creep onto her face. “We are opening a new hole every thirteen hours.”
“That’s wonderful,” said the Admiral, leaning forward in his seat. “You were only doing one about every twenty-four hours before. How’d you do it?”
“Those theoretical boys you sent me deserve the credit,” said Yu, feeling a blush come over her face. “They found some wastage in the graviton reservoir, and found out how to form the hole with a little less overall energy. They almost doubled production.”
“Excellent. We can really use all the holes you can give us.”
“We’re still having some problems in negative matter production,” said Yu with a frown, looking down on the screen of her flat comp. “I wish we could find someone like Gonzalez.”
“We’re looking into building some more production facilities,” said the Admiral, nodding his head. “But right now we need heat sinks and communications links. Save up the excess negative matter and we’ll build some ship gates down the road.”
“We can do that, Admiral,” said the scientist with a smile, her imagination showing her those ship gates, shortening the time between core worlds to almost nothing. “We can do that.”
* * *
High Grand Admiral Len Lenkowski sat in the command chair on the flag bridge of Valkyrie, looking at the blue and white planet spinning below. A planet he could bombard into ruins, if given time. Of course that planet had the defenses to destroy the super-battleship he was using as his command post. There were people down there who would be more than glad to do just that with those defenses. Fortunately for him, the planetary defenses were controlled by the Imperial Army and Navy, and they were still on his side.
“We have a shuttle requesting permission to dock, Admiral,” came the voice of the Captain of the Valkyrie, Connie Mathers. “What are your orders?”
“I assume they are more of our friends,” said the Admiral, grinning over at his security officer.
“The same,” agreed the Captain.
“Allow them to dock, and to leave their ship,” said the Admiral, nodding to the security officer, who nodded back before his eyes took on the look of someone linking. “I’ll be right down.”
The Admiral took his time getting down to the hanger, stopping on the way to chat with officers and crew, letting someone else use the first available lift, basically wasting time. When he arrived outside the hanger he looked through the vid relays to see a delegation of what had to be police and lawyers waiting, a couple in an argument while others paced back and forth across the deck. He gave the signal and the fun began.
The Marines came in first from the large cargo hatches to the side of the landing bay, a full squad in the heavy armor they wore for planetary assault, their weapons in plain display as they covered the men and women. Two more squads came in from the passenger doors, their weapons held at the ready but not pointed at anyone in particular. When they were in place and had gotten the attention of the police the Admiral ordered the door to his front open. He walked into the hanger with a detail of officers as if he owned it. Which of course was close to the truth.
“See here, Admiral,” said the oldest of the people, a short squat woman, moving toward him. The Marines moved their weapons and the woman thought better of approaching the man she had come to see. “Is this display to intimidate us?”
�
��Of course, my Lady,” said the Admiral, giving a slight bow to the woman he recognized as the Countess Judy Decker, current Sergeant of Arms of the Lords. “Since that is obviously the purpose of your visit today. Or could you not have entrusted this task to someone a little less highly placed.”
“The Lords are not intimidated,” said the woman, sending a bull dog glare at the Admiral.
“Of course not, my lady,” said the Admiral with a smile. And how many regiments have the Lords, thought the Admiral, remembering and paraphrasing an old quote he had heard somewhere. “And what can I do for you today?”
“You can answer the summons to appear before the Lords,” said the woman, a smirk creeping across her face. “To answer an inquiry into your conduct with regards to the prison planet Purgatory. Conduct that resulted in over a hundred deaths to Bureau of Prisons and Imperial Investigation Bureau personnel. A summons, I might add, that you have ignored to this point.”
“Communications have been spotty between my ship and the planet, my Lady,” said the Admiral, playing the game. “I’m sure you understand how traffic might become lost in the interference.”
“Bullshit, Admiral,” said the woman, her glare becoming even more intense. “Don’t give me that crap. This ship is fully capable of receiving any transmission sent its way, regardless of the circumstances.” The woman continued to glare, while her contingent was beginning to look very uncomfortable to be in proximity to what looked to be a heated verbal battle in a room full of armed Marines.
“So, Admiral,” continued the woman, making the rank sound like a curse word, “we have decided to skip the middle man. I have here in my hands a summons from the House of Lords to appear before a committee of inquiry into the incident involving the Purgatory prison planet.”
The woman moved forward and extended a disposable flat comp sheet to the Admiral. Len hesitated for a moment, then took the sheet from her hand and perused it.
“Let the record show that High Grand Admiral Gabriel Lenkowski has received the summons from the Lords,” said Decker, looking over at one of her contingent that must have been the official recorder. “And now I will have your answer, Admiral. Will you accompany me down to the planet, as required by that summons?”
The Admiral stood there for a moment, staring at the women in disbelief. He folded his arms across his chest and looked into the Sergeant of Arms eyes. They can’t really expect for it to be that easy, he thought. I would go down, appear before their committee, then disappear. If they even let me appear before their committee.
“No,” said Len, shaking his head and continuing to look into her eyes. “I am not willing to accept your summons at this time.”
“Then let the record show that the Admiral has refused a lawful summons to appear in front of the House of Lords,” said Decker, a smile of triumph growing on her face. “You therefore leave me no choice, Admiral. You are hereby placed under arrest, and will accompany us back to the planet.”
“No,” said the Admiral, a little more forceful than before. “I am not under arrest.”
“What do you mean?” said the woman, confusion on her face.
“Arrest means that you can take me into custody,” said the Admiral, pointing a finger at the woman to emphasize the you. “That you can control my movements. That is not going to happen.”
“You defy the power of the Lords?”
“I have the power here,” said the Admiral, chopping his hand in the air at each word. “Not the Lords.”
“You men,” said Decker, looking around the hanger at the Marines and naval officers who were with the Admiral. “In defending this man,” she continued, pointing a finger at the Admiral, “you are in violation of an order from the Civil government. You are subject to charges of treason if you continue to do so. Do you understand?”
Not a weapon wavered, and every military man and woman on the hanger looked hard faced at the woman and her companions.
“The Fleet is family,” said Len Lenkowski, glaring at the Parliamentary and IIB functionaries. “We stick together.” He stopped for a moment to let that sink in. “I will be glad to come down when we have a seated Emperor to stand in judgment. Until then you can order me to appear all you want. And you can hold your breaths while you wait for all I care. Now this meeting is over, my Lady. You can get back on your shuttle and leave, or I will throw you and all your aids in the brig.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Decker in a cold voice.
“I dare much,” said the Admiral, a smile on his face. “I swore an oath to defend the Empire against all opponents, foreign and domestic.” The smile left his face and the Admiral’s voice rose. “And right now the biggest enemy I see to the stability of this realm is the House of Lords. We are without a seated Emperor, and all you can do is argue about who to install in the monarch’s seat. Which sniveling sycophant would be the best choice to fill the throne? Who would bow down to the Lords with the least amount of persuasion? Well, we have an heir. The third son.”
“And where is he?” asked Decker, her own face reddening. “Where is this prospective Emperor when he is needed?”
“Serving the fleet,” roared the Admiral. “Serving the Empire. And as soon as he is back in the capital he will become Emperor. An Emperor the military will back, over whatever idiot cousin you choose to install.”
“How dare you,” said the Countess again. “You speak treason.”
“Get her off this ship,” said the Admiral, nodding to his men and then turning away. He walked out of the room to the screaming of the Countess. I have to admit, he thought. She’s got courage, if not a lot of common sense. He looked over at his aide, a Lt. Commander who gave him an incredulous look.
“Think I could have handled it better, Myra?” he asked.
“Maybe a bit more diplomatic, sir,” said the younger officer, walking down the corridor with him.
“They now know where I stand,” said the Admiral. “And I know where they stand. To me that seems the best diplomatic solution.”
The young Lt. Commander shook her head, but she couldn’t help to smile as well.
* * *
“Just who in the hell does he think he is?” yelled interim Prime Minister Theo Streeter, Duke of Coventry. The dark faced man slammed his hand on the table causing the other members of the committee to jump in their seats.
“He said that he will respond when we have a seated Emperor,” said the Countess Judy Decker, a scowl on her face. “The man has no respect for our office.”
“We will have a seated Emperor by the end of the week,” said another of the Core World Lords who made up the interim committee that was overseeing the Emporal branch of the government. “What was that cousin’s name again?”
There was murmuring around the table for a moment before the Duke slammed his hand back on the table.
“It doesn’t matter who it is,” he exclaimed. “As long as he does what we tell him.”
“Derrick Jackson Ogden,” said one of the other Lords, looking at a flat comp.
“What?” asked the Interim Prime Minister.
“That’s the name of the young man we wish to seat on the throne,” said the Lord, holding up his comp to show the picture of a handsome but not very bright looking young man. “Third cousin.”
“Wasn’t there anyone of closer relations?” asked the Countess Decker.
“Of course there were,” said the Prime Minister. “But they would have been more of a problem when it came to handling. So they have been isolated, for now. But what are we going to do about this Admiral? Can the army do something?”
“The chief of staff of the Army has replied,” said Lord Huang, the secretary of the committee. “He says it is not the Army’s business to control the Navy. And he has no ships to do so if it were.”
“He’s in bed with the Admiral,” said the Prime Minister, almost spitting the words. “He was in the clique with the Emperor as well. Is there some way we can get to him and put someone else in
his place?”
“I don’t see how,” said Decker, shaking her head. “Grand Field Marshal Yamakuri is on the premises of Fort Jakarta, on the New Jakarta continent of New Terra. He’s surrounded by an entire armored division, and only travels in military transport. Escorted military transport.”
“And all we have are the Parliamentary Guard,” said the Prime Minister, putting his head in his hands. “While that traitor sits up there in orbit in the most powerful warship in the Fleet.”
“My Lords and Ladies,” came a call over the conference room com. “There is something on the trivee you need to see.”
“What now,” growled the Prime Minister as the holo faded in over the center of the table. The Galactic News Service logo, GNS, rotated in 3D above the holo field, which showed a man in uniform talking before some kind of camera. Text at the bottom of the screen indicated that the man was aboard HIMS Valkyrie in orbit around Jewel.
“Son of a bitch,” said Decker, leaning over the table and looking at the face of the man. “The son of a bitch went public.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” said Lord Huang, his eyes widening.
The Prime Minister made a motion for everyone to be quiet as he raised the volume on the cast.
“And they were holding her with no evidence, simply to keep her out of the public view,” said Admiral Len Lenkowski to the camera. “A woman they knew was innocent. Just so they would have a scapegoat.”
“And this justified your using the Fleet for a prison break?” said the voice of a reporter identified on the holo as Yasagi Musagawa, a well know investigative journalist for the network.
“If I did wrong I will gladly answer for the crime,” said the Admiral, his face solemn. “As soon as we have a seated Emperor to decide on my disposition.”
“And that will occur on Friday,” said the reporter. “Six days from now.”
“No,” said the Admiral, shaking his head. “It will not. The Emperor’s son is with the Fleet in Sector Four. He is now the rightful heir, and all attempts are being made to contact him at this time. When he…”
“Program off,” said the Prime Minister in a shaky voice.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 2 Page 13