The High Ground
Page 31
“Zeng. He set up the meeting so you’d be outside the walls of The High Ground. And he has to have issued the order to shelter in place.”
“And of course Musa.” Mercedes gripped Boho’s shoulder and fought the tears. “Do you think Arturo and Mihalis and Jose knew?”
“God, I hope not.” Boho once again ran a hand across his face. “There’s never been a crisis of rule like this.”
“Because no other emperor only had daughters,” Mercedes said sadly.
“God what a spectacle. Trials, executions. You need to tell your father all of this. Get SEGU on it.”
“First I’m going to find out just how much Dani knows.”
She tried to pull away, but Boho didn’t release her hand. “Wait. You should never have been in that fighter. It should have been me… keeping you safe.”
She opened her mouth to object, but before she could speak he kissed her. It was very practiced, proving Boho’s horndog reputation wasn’t just brag and boast. Confusion filled her. She should pull away, but it was only her third kiss and Boho was very handsome and she was curious. She was also beginning to regret the incautious words that had been spoken. As the full measure of Dani’s treachery had become clear the world of the FFH and the League came crashing back. Her father had told her to find a consort. Would he accept Tracy? Tracy was undoubtedly brilliant and she would make it clear it had been Tracy’s tactics that had saved them all, and they had two more years to make the point, but… but… but… No, that was an analysis for another day.
Boho seemed to sense her distraction. His right hand moved to a more intimate location. As his fingers stroked across her left breast a tingle leaped from her nipple to her groin. She was horrified at the reaction and felt disloyal. Her confusion deepened. Did this mean she didn’t love Tracy?
“I’ve never made love in freefall,” he whispered into her ear, pressing his advantage. “It’s always been an ambition of mine.”
“I can’t. I don’t have… protection.” It wasn’t true, but things were moving too fast and she was too confused.
“Don’t worry. I always have protection.”
That reminder of his tomcat ways put an end to her confusion. She put a hand in the center of his chest as the public address system crackled to life.
“Prepare for gravity spin in three minutes. Please seek a secure location, gravity spin will initiate in two minutes forty-three seconds.”
Mercedes pushed herself away from Boho. “I guess you’re going to have to keep waiting to try that particular experiment.”
“Damn. Terrible timing. To whom do I complain?”
His grin was bright against his tan skin and Mercedes found herself smiling back despite her annoyance. She inched her way down the curving sides of the observation lounge as weight began to tug at her joints. Eventually enough gravity had returned for there to again be a sense of up and down, and once her feet could stay connected to the floor she held out her hand to Boho. He kissed it and then rubbed her hand against his cheek. The contrast of soft skin and prickly stubble was rather pleasant. He released her and Mercedes walked carefully to the door.
She glanced back. “And by the way, Tracy’s decision made perfect sense. I am the best in the class in the Infierno.”
“Only because they destroyed those last two missiles,” he snapped and she wondered if it was from wounded vanity or the mention of Tracy’s name.
“You realize you just insulted me, right?”
For an instant he looked like a dog caught stealing from the table, then he said smoothly, “I apologize. I’m just upset because you could have been killed.”
“No, it’s good I had to face that. For me to fulfill my father’s dream I have to be a soldier… and soldiers die.”
The reduced gravity allowed him to reach her side in two long steps. He lifted her hand and kissed it again. “I won’t let that happen.”
* * *
His breaths and the slow beep of the heart monitor in his suit were a grating wound on the profound silence of the galaxy. The stars seemed cold and remote, like an infinite number of hostile eyes gazing down on him and judging him. Tracy had prayed that the boots would have failed and what remained of Hugo’s body had already been lost to the void, but that prayer was not answered.
The lower body was like some grotesque broken piece of ancient statuary silhouetted against the stars. Tracy fought nausea and forced himself to walk down the length of the strut. He kept a wary eye out for the broken cable but with the tension gone and the cosmódromo once more stabilized it spun at the same speed as the station, a silver sweep hand marking time on the face of the universe.
He reached the body, clamped his own boots firmly to the skin of the strut, grabbed the utility belt and yanked. The boots released and he was holding the corpse. He wanted to just thrust it violently away from him, but he wasn’t sure he could generate enough momentum that it would be lost forever.
After the beating it had taken Tracy didn’t trust the emergency suit so he had returned to the academy for battle armor. Now he released his boots, fired his jet pack and boosted away from the station. This far out he didn’t need to worry about the body being caught in the gravity-well of Ouranos and being spotted and recovered by a missile platform or some passing ship. Still he wanted the evidence to be lost forever, so he calculated a trajectory that would ultimately carry the body into the sun. The ultimate funeral pyre.
The moment was approaching. Catechism lessons ensured that Tracy had a selection of prayers committed to memory. He had been sure to shut down all radio transmissions, and as he released Hugo’s body he murmured:
“May God remember forever Hugo Devris who has gone to his eternal rest. May he be at one with the One who is life eternal. May the beauty of his life shine forevermore, and may my life always bring honor to his memory. Amen.”
He pushed the body away from him, and fired his jets to halt his momentum. He hung in space watching until he could no longer see the corpse. Then he boosted back to the cosmódromo.
He was confident his space walk had not been observed. Everyone was still taken up with the cleanup and aftermath of the attack. He would carry this secret to his grave.
* * *
Danica wasn’t in their quarters, and it was clear the girl had left in a very big hurry. Clothes were strewn on the floor. A few outfits were missing and the jeweled hairpins were also gone. Mercedes wanted to stalk down every hall and every building on the station until she found her but knew that was stupid. She considered informing cosmódromo security and sending them out hunting, but the more people she involved the less discreet this became and she didn’t want to do that until she’d had a chance to talk to her father.
Which left her with Cipriana rolling a desperate eye toward her and then giving a significant nod toward Sumiko, who sat on the edge of her bed with crumpled tissues like fallen camellias all around her feet. She was crying but her face was twisted with rage as well as grief.
“I’ll… I’ll just leave you… two,” Cipriana said and she ducked out the door.
Mercedes opened her mouth to object but it was too late. She steeled herself and turned to face Sumiko. “Sumi, I’m so sorry. Umm… are you… all right?”
The face that was revealed when she looked up was wet, blotched, red and ravaged. “Of course I’m not all right! What a stupid thing to ask me! My love is gone. I’ll never find anyone ever again. And I don’t want to. My Hugo is dead.” The final word was a cry of anguish.
Mercedes settled on the bed and put her arm around Sumiko. “I’m sorry. He was… he seemed… I mean I didn’t know him all that well, but I know how much he meant to you and you wouldn’t love anybody who wasn’t wonderful.” I’m a babbling fool, Mercedes thought.
“It cut him in half, Mer. I watched it happen. His intestines were trailing. The blood was like red snowflakes. He just floated away. I saw his face in the helmet spinning, spinning until I couldn’t see it any longer.”
“I know there’s nothing I can say or do—” Mercedes began only to be interrupted.
“Yes, actually there is.” The tears were gone and Sumiko looked fierce. “I want out of here. I never want to come back. Get me out of this.”
“Sumi, I’m not sure I can—”
“Well you better or otherwise I’ll tell!”
“Tell what?”
“About you and Belmanor.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” but she knew her blush betrayed her.
“I know you were snogging him in the observation lounge. If you thought Danica’s father would be upset, well, just think about how your father will react. Let me leave and I’ll keep your secret.”
“You’re threatening the crown.”
“No, I’m threatening him. You’ll be protected like you always are, but he’ll be destroyed when it comes out. And it will. The closer you get to graduation the more you’ll be scrutinized.”
The truth of the statement quelled the bubble of anger she had felt rising. “All right. I agree.” She then added, “What will you do?”
“Try to find somebody. It won’t be the same, my true love is gone, but I’ll try to be good to him, whoever he might be, and at least I’ll have children. That will help.” She sighed. “It’s the best I can hope for.”
And the best I can hope for too, Mercedes thought. For she now knew what she must do to protect Tracy. Would it make it easier knowing it was also her duty?
32
THE GAME OF KINGS
Tracy was once again at the imperial palace. This time in a formal garden. Fortunately the weather was obliging for this outdoor event. A grandstand had been erected and draped with Solar League banners. There were chairs for the dignitaries on the grandstand and a very impressive throne for the Emperor. Tracy and his companions were standing behind that elaborate piece of furniture. Neither the Emperor nor Mercedes had yet arrived. Overhead a flock of camera drones bobbed and weaved, beaming pictures to ScoopRings across Ouranos and into the Foldstream so citizens from all around the League worlds could watch.
On the grass in front of the stage were more chairs for attending dignitaries and family members, and in the final row, last chair on the left, sat his father. He was too far away for Tracy to discern his expression. One thing Tracy knew for certain: his father’s grey morning suit would be as beautifully tailored as any worn by the FFH. Hugo’s family was also in the last row, but on the other side from Alexander. Clearly proximity to the stage was an indicator of rank.
Behind the attendees’ chairs reporters churned and jockeyed for better positions and technicians were setting up lights. Deeper in the garden, tents and tables were being set up for the reception that would follow this presentation of medals. Hajin and Isanjo servants slipped in and out of the palace carrying tablecloths, utensils, glasses, and trays of food.
It had been a chaotic nine days. The imperial yacht and yachts belonging to the Cullen, Tsukuda and Pulkkinen families had arrived a few hours after the cosmódromo was returned to stable orbit to whisk away their children. Ernesto’s family had chartered a shuttle. Danica had found some way off the station, and her family was several days’ travel away from Ouranos. Which left Wilson and Tracy as the only students at the academy.
They had carefully avoided each other, which was blindingly obvious in the mess hall since they were the only students at The High Ground. The fact they picked tables well away from each other and ate alone did not go unremarked by the master chiefs and the few professors who had remained aboard. Zeng never put in an appearance and Tracy wondered what had happened to him.
He had talked with his father a few times, and had been assured by station communications personnel that he wouldn’t be charged for the calls. Classes were supposed to have resumed two days before, but the start of the new semester had been postponed while repairs were made to the cosmódromo.
He passed the time by reading news reports about the attack. The part played by Mercedes had been prominent and rightly so, but Cullen was the other individual who got the most press, which galled Tracy to his core. Davin had been praised for his bravery and his injury. Hugo was mentioned, but more attention was paid to his father, and there were images of Caballero Malcomb Devris, his fat face streaming with tears, fists clenched, mouth open as he bellowed his grief. Ernesto was mentioned, and finally Tracy—the afterthought. Except in the Alibi, the independent news outlet read by those not in the FFH. There had been a very large article about Tracy there. To be fair every time Mercedes had been quoted she credited Tracy with the plan that had liberated the station.
Then eight days after the attack a message was delivered that a shuttle would be arriving to take Tracy planetside for a medal ceremony. He had found Mark in his room and made an effusive apology about how he was going to have to leave Mark for a few days and why. The look of rage on the other scholarship student’s face had given him more than a little delight. As he walked away Tracy had tossed back over his shoulder, “Too bad you didn’t come, but then you’re an expert on how to get ahead.”
And now he was standing in his dress uniform, in the palace garden and about to be decorated by the Emperor himself with the Distinguido Servicio Cruzar for extreme gallantry and risk of life in combat with an armed enemy force. On a table to the right were nine polished wood boxes with the blue enamel and silver medals nestled in dark blue velvet. Two of the medals were accompanied by a small silver bar indicating meritorious service. Those were reserved for him and Mercedes.
He glanced at his fellow recipients. Davin looked pale and his empty sleeve was pinned across the front of his jacket. A frown had settled between Sumiko’s brows. She seemed to sense his gaze and met his eyes. What he saw there had Tracy recoiling; it was pure, naked hatred. He wanted to break ranks, rush to her and apologize again. Ernesto seemed distracted, head bowed, lost in his own thoughts. Cipriana stood at rigid attention and she looked proud. Cullen had his usual expression of superior confidence. Danica was milk white; even her lips seemed bloodless and there was a blank look in those blue eyes. She looked like a dumb animal facing the slaughterhouse, not somebody about to receive a medal.
Tracy wondered what his face would tell to the billions—he tried to process that number and failed—who might be watching. He wished his thoughts hadn’t gone there because now his gut felt like an empty cavern filled with butterflies with razor blade wings. No wonder Lady Danica was looking poleaxed.
* * *
“What is Dani doing here?” Mercedes demanded. “After everything I told you. Didn’t—”
The Isanjo valet gave a final adjustment to the sash at the Emperor’s waist. He was wearing his Orden de la Estrella uniform with his admiral epaulets and a mass of medals and honors glittering on both sides of the jacket. Her father held up a restraining hand, and turned away from the full-length mirror. “She’s here to receive her medal,” he said mildly, but there was a clear warning in his dark eyes.
Mercedes flushed with embarrassment and bit her lower lip. The Emperor waved toward the door. The servant bowed his way out of the bedchamber.
“I’m sorry, I know better than to talk in front of servants, but what the hell? I mean really, didn’t SEGU find anything?”
“Yes, they did, and please watch the profanity.”
“Then what…” She bit back the fuck she wanted to utter and said, “…are you doing? She was part of a plot to kill me.”
“No, she and her family were part of a plot to point out how incompetent and useless you are, and how foolish I was to think you could ever take my place. The whispers would begin that I would endanger the safety of the League rather than see any but my ow
n blood on the throne—”
“Well, isn’t that true?”
She was hurt and hoped the barb might rattle him, but he just gave her a smile and flicked a forefinger across her cheek. “But you weren’t useless, and you didn’t fail and have to be rescued by the troops I was preparing to send to the station. Unfortunately for our plotters they had assumed that their view of reality was the correct one rather than corroborating that view with actual facts.”
Mercedes sank down on the elaborate bed. The enamel and gold headboard extended almost to the ceiling and covered half the wall. All nine sisters could comfortably have slept in the bed itself.
“What did they offer? What was so tempting that Dani would betray me and endanger all those people?”
“A secret betrothal to Mihalis.”
Grabbing a pillow Mercedes held it tight against her aching stomach. Her throat was tight and she swallowed hard several times. She couldn’t decide if she was furious or just devastated. Her father strolled to his jewelry case and slid rings onto his fingers while she processed the information. Mercedes shook her head.
“Then I don’t understand what you’re doing. And who were the others who were involved, the fake terrorists?”
He joined her on the bed and slipped an arm around her. “It took a while for DeLange to follow the threads,” her father said, referring to the head of the intelligence service. “They were disgruntled members of the FFH, outraged officers in Orden de la Estrella, and of course my cousin, Musa. The operatives on the station had been recruited from disgraced members of SEGU or cashiered soldiers. They had had their fingerprints removed and made it impossible for retinal scans to be used to verify their identities, but you realizing Lady Danica was part of this plot gave us a thread to pull.” He smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression. “And pull it we did.”
“But nobody has been arrested.”
“No, nor will they be. No one must know I was challenged by my own nobles or the military.”