There were just a couple of problems. For starters, the Democracies were hardly the easy target Teo thought. They were hardened by the constant friction amongst themselves and would be fighting for their homes. Also, a lot of Jonians would rather join Anthea instead of an invasion force. The Capital’s troops would lack both cohesion and determination, especially if Teo rushed the invasion, as he was bound to.
However, he knew his former friend. He would never accept any of these arguments. No, Paul had to try a different approach. “Why risk everything for a bunch of backwater villagers?”
Teo waved dismissively. “What risk? We kicked your butt in Jonia, and we’ll do it again. There’s no risk.”
Paul bit his lip to stop from speaking his mind. Jonia had only lost because of his treachery, or the war might well have been won. This point would not win him the argument, though. “There’s always a risk, even if a small one. Is everything going according to your plans?”
Teo leaned forward to study him. “What do you mean?”
The words sounded guarded, cautious. So there are already setbacks. But what? “Well, have you tried finding allies?”
“Sure. Scorpio. I had their Secretary in my pocket. Or should I say I’ve lined her pocket?” Teo scoffed. “She would attack Anthea from the rear. Then she got herself killed. I’m still waiting to find out the details. You know what those Scorpions are like; everything’s a state secret.”
“See? That’s what I mean. Why risk it? You’ve already got the best part of the planet. Consolidate your rule here, make the Capital the most prosperous place on Pearseus, and the Democracies will beg you to be your vassals.”
Teo made a funny noise with his mouth, a combination of a chuckle and a raspberry. “You deal with making the Capital a nice place to live in. Once I burn down Anthea’s homes, there’ll be enough begging.”
There was no mistaking the hatred in Teo’s voice. Anthea had spurned him, exiled him. Fate had shackled his heart with a burning desire for revenge, and he would not rest until he had it. This was the real reason behind the ill-advised invasion. What could Paul say to change his mind? “Why do you want to rule Anthea, when you have the Capital?”
Teo planted his fist on the arm of his chair, startling Paul. “It’s my right!” he exploded.
“You’d kill to protect your rights. A real ruler would die to protect someone else’s.” The words escaped Paul’s lips before he had a chance to stop them.
Teo glared at him and leaned forward with a growl. “So, you want me to make people love you,” Paul said quickly.
Teo said nothing for a moment, his eyes boring two holes in Paul’s forehead. “Love me, worship me, obey me, fear me,” he said, bringing his outburst to an abrupt end. He leaned back into his chair again.
“These are mutually exclusive. When people fear you, they may respect and obey you, but not love you.”
Teo shrugged off Paul’s comment. “Fine. Let’s say they love me. Will they obey me then?”
“They’ll follow you to hell and back. But you need to earn their love. People have needs. Take care of them, and they’ll love you more than Themis herself.”
Teo sighed. “Sounds like your area of expertise, but what kind of needs are we talking about?”
Paul lifted his palm and touched one finger after another with each word. “Security. Survival. Food. Justice. Freedom. That kind of thing.”
“Freedom,” Teo scoffed. “They wouldn’t know what to do with it. What they need is someone to lead them, not someone to cajole them.”
“Like democracy, freedom requires justice.”
Teo tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “It all boils down to that, doesn’t it? No need to convince me, you’ve already got the job.”
“I’m not—” Paul shouted, then caught himself and lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to convince you, I’m merely stating facts. A state needs strong, independent institutions to be properly governed. More than anything, it needs justice for all.” He paused, searching for a way to make Teo understand. “People talk of the state as if it were a third party. It’s not. Every single one of us is the state. When we ask the state for money, it’s our taxes that pay for its generosity. When a civil servant is late for work, it is the state that looks useless.”
“No one can prevent that,” Teo said and tossed a date into his mouth.
“Of course you can. You set the rules, and punish those who break them. The civil service, and justice in particular, must have only the best and brightest. They must be watched constantly, and punished for any transgression. But that’s hard. So you set up a system where the people judge their peers. Like in the old days, back on Earth.”
Teo twirled the fruit in his mouth before spitting the stone out. “How’s that going to work?”
“Right now, the only law is your word. But this is arbitrary. People need a set of basic rules.”
“Why not explicit ones? Don’t people need to know exactly what to do?”
“The more detailed the laws, the harder it is to obey them. What people need is some ground rules. We’ll set up courthouses at a local level so they can figure out the details for themselves.”
Teo shot him a doubtful glance. “You can arrange all that?”
“Yes. In your name, of course,” Paul hastened to add. “The people will love a leader who ensures justice. But it also means the leader must be prepared to bow to their will. Are you willing to do that?”
“The people’s will,” Teo sneered. “I don’t think you understand. The people are imbeciles. I know what’s best for them. I am their leader. They will bow to my will, not the other way around.”
Paul studied him for a moment, fighting the urge to slap him. “In that case, perhaps you should lead through fear instead,” he said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm from his voice.
Teo threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Fear it is, then!”
Paul blinked in surprise. “No, I didn’t—”
“What?” Teo interrupted him. “You said I should lead through fear, so that’s what I’ll do. I’m sure there will be plenty of that once Anthea burns.”
The thought of flames swallowing up Anthea’s quaint city made Paul’s blood curdle. “What about Satori?” he rasped.
Teo jolted back, as if stung. “What about her?” He tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair.
“If you invade the West, she’ll be there. She’ll get caught up in the fighting.” Paul paused for a moment. “She could die.”
Teo studied him carefully. “If I promise her safe return, will you serve the Capital with everything you’ve got?”
Paul hesitated for no more than a split-second. “Yes.” Serving Teo could be no worse than what he had already done to ensure his daughter’s safety. And perhaps he could prevent some of the Regent’s worst mistakes.
Teo stared at him with cold, unblinking eyes. “Let me explain the situation. You go back to Jonia, you die. You have no friends, no one to help you. When you betrayed Jonia, you burned a lot of bridges. I know you blame me for all this, and it’s true I haven’t been fair to you.” He leaned forward to take a wine-filled goblet and took a sip before continuing. “What I’m offering is to rule the planet with me. The planet, Paul. But you need to be committed. And I know you’re angry. That’s why I’ll be watching you. I’m going after some of your old friends, and I need to know you’ve got my back. If I suspect you’re betraying me…” He let his voice trail off.
Paul lowered his voice to a solemn whisper. “I won’t. I swear.”
“Excellent!” Teo extended his hand and Paul shook it. Teo had a habit of squeezing too hard, as if to stress a point, so Paul made sure to squeeze back as hard – and a bit harder.
Teo winced with pain and withdrew his hand. “You start immediately. What would you like to do first?”
“I should get acquainted with your system. I’ll start with the department that oversees the judges.”
A look
of contempt crossed Teo’s face, as he rubbed his stubby fingers. “Just a bunch of bureaucrats.”
“Worlds are run either by bureaucrats or generals,” Paul said with a shrug. “Which one do you prefer?”
“I’ll deal with the generals.” Teo waved a dismissive gesture. “The bureaucrats are your problem now.”
Paul tried for a moment to stop himself from asking the question that burned his lips, then gave up. “Why a judge? I never had you for one to worry about justice. Or did my arguments convince you?”
“I do know one thing about it,” Teo said with a shrug. “It can do wonders for one’s longevity. Styx, for all her faults, believed in justice for her subjects. Cyrus did not. That’s why nobody batted an eyelid when I took over.”
“And you don’t want the same thing to happen to you,” Paul guessed.
Teo rose to his feet to lean over the parapet overlooking the gardens. Autumn had painted the trees in bright orange and red colours, like a fireworks display, but he seemed blind to the beauty in front of him. “Let me explain. A man suffers an injustice. If the system fails him, he will take matters in his own hands. Usually, this ends in violence. Unless the state has the monopoly of violence, we have anarchy. In anarchy, heads roll. Whether through love or fear, I intend for mine to be on my shoulders for a long time.” He raised the goblet to a toast and drained it before staring at the falling leaves for a while, lost in thought. After a while, he took one look at the sun, now past its high point on the horizon, and spun around, a frown on his brow. “Good. Now that’s settled, I have to get ready for a meeting.”
Paul stood up, hiding his surprise. He would give much to know what was going through Teo’s mind. What was more important than the future of his empire?
Anthea
Gella
Gella spotted Satori first. The young woman was leaning on a column, her eyes fixed on a group of sweaty soldiers running around a track. Like Sol, she was wearing an olive-coloured uniform, a single gold olive leaf on her collar. Her dark, silky hair was tied into a ponytail. Gella straightened down her creaseless uniform with her palms and marched towards her.
Feeling her presence, Satori met her with an icy stare. “You’re late.”
Gella decided to ignore her. After all, they had the same rank. “Satori. It’s good to see you’re okay.”
The woman’s slit eyes lit up in irritation. “No thanks to you.”
“Listen, I wanted—”
“Not interested,” Satori interrupted and whirled around. “Follow me. We have work to do.”
Gella’s cheeks flushed in anger. She grabbed Satori’s arm and stopped her. “If you have something to say, say it.”
Satori’s gaze travelled from Gella’s hands to her eyes. “To the Butcher of Ephia? No, thanks.”
Gella pulled her hand, as if it had been burned. “You were there. You know I tried to stop him.”
“He was your responsibility,” Satori hissed. “Yes, I was there. I heard your promises, your lies. You were in charge. Altman was your responsibility.”
“I tried,” Gella started, then stopped. “You know what? Screw you. I almost died trying to stop that asshole from killing you all. Yes, I failed. But what more would you have me do? Once Cyrus put him in charge, there was nothing I could do.”
Satori’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Altman was in charge?”
“I was relieved of my duties when I refused to use that monstrosity of his.”
Satori lifted her chin, studying Gella. “Why are you here? To hide from Altman?”
A flash of rage made Gella grab the young woman from the shirt and slam her onto the brick wall behind her. “I hide from no one. I’m here because no one hates Altman more than I do. And when he shows his ugly mug on Anthea, I’ll rip his guts and use them to skip-rope all the way to the Capital.”
Satori grabbed her wrists to tear them off her, then stopped. The corners of her mouth curled upwards into a grin. “Maybe we can work together after all.” She threw a questioning look at Gella’s hands.
Gella patted her down and took a step back. “That’s good to know. Thank you.” She paused for a moment. “And I’m sorry for what happened. I should have let him die when I had the chance.”
Satori’s grin twisted into a frown. “Yes you should have. And I didn’t say we could be friends. Just that we could work together.” She spun around, tying her hair back into a knot. “Come, Butcher. Let’s meet your men.”
Gella ground her teeth but said nothing. They marched into a long barracks filled with men and women. “Ten-hut!” someone shouted, and they rushed to form long lines at the front of the vast room. When they spotted Gella, they whispered and nudged each other. “Silence!” a sergeant barked, and the room went silent as a tomb.
“Listen up, men,” Satori started. “You may know my companion as the Butcher of Ephia.” The soldiers glared at Gella, who straightened her back even further, fighting an urge to take a step backwards. “Well, I was there,” Satori continued. “And if she can help you miserable creeps survive, then I’m willing to have her drill each and every one of you until you spit blood. Am I clear?” Satori stared at the stony faces. “Something else you should know. The Colonel here tried to stop Altman, the real Butcher of Ephia. As a result, she is now wanted in the Capital for treason.”
Gella frowned; she had not mentioned this to her. Satori was better informed than she let on. She wondered how much more the Jonian already knew when she baited her earlier. How much of our fight was staged? This was a smart woman, she realized, grateful they were on the same side. Satori oozed charisma when she spoke, every man and woman in the room hanging on every word that fell from her lips.
Satori paced back and forth, her hands tied behind her back. “She’s here to atone for her part in the invasion. If any of you have a problem with this, you can leave now.” She froze in her tracks and her gaze fixed on the soldiers before her. No one moved. “Good.” She pointed a finger at Gella. “This woman knows how the Capital thinks, how it trains, how it fights. She’s not here to tell you how to survive a battle with the Capital. She’s here to tell you how to win!”
“Hooah,” the soldiers roared.
Satori slapped her fist into her hand. “And win we shall!”
“Hooah!” The room shook from the shouts.
“We’ll chase that rabid dog all the way back to the Capital!”
“Hooah!” The thunderous roar made Gella’s hair stand on end.
“As you were,” Satori ordered as the echoes died down. She headed for the door. Gella hurried behind her. “That went well,” Satori whispered.
“Thank you,” Gella said, meaning every word. She had little doubt a knife would find its way into her body within hours, had Satori decided to turn the men against her.
“You can thank me by helping us survive. I have seen how Altman fights.”
“Dirty,” Gella said.
Satori marched down a columned archway leading to a small building. Two guards snapped to attention as the two women passed between them to enter a narrow corridor. Uniform, plain doors led to small offices left and right. Climbing a flight of stairs, Satori led them to an identical corridor on the first floor. Some of the doors were open, allowing Gella to peek inside. Men and women, all dressed in the by now familiar olive green uniform, were talking, writing and reading long cylinders of paper. The place buzzed like a beehive, giving her a feeling of purpose and belonging she had missed.
Satori led her to one of the offices and opened the door. “This is you.” She stepped inside without waiting for Gella and sat down on a chair opposite a wooden desk.
Gella walked around the desk, tracing its surface with her fingers. Everything was plain but practical. Her soldier mind approved. A window behind the desk overlooked a plaza. A company of men and women were running in a wide circle, dark patches of sweat soiling their uniforms. She nodded in silent approval, then sat down.
“You like it?” Satori’s
eyes examined her.
“I love it,” Gella said and grinned.
“Good. This is your new home. Now, how about proving Sol right?”
“Huh?”
Satori tapped the chair with impatient fingers. “Your thoughts on the Capital’s strategy?”
Gella leaned back on her chair, lost in thought. “The Capital follows five principles,” she said after a while. “We must do the same to win this.”
Satori leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand.
“First, they will rely on numbers,” Gella said. “We have no hope of commanding as many troops.”
“How do we beat this?” Satori asked.
“Technology. The Capital has banned research for so long, that we hold the advantage there. We can move cannons to defend possible landing sites, and use liquid fire to burn their ships before they even land.”
Satori nodded. “The second principle?”
“Discipline.”
Satori laughed. “You mean, like when Altman made his mad charge at Ephia’s walls?”
“He’s an idiot, but don’t underestimate the Capital’s army. They’re veterans of two wars and many of their units are highly disciplined.”
“So what do we do?”
“We train our men, make sure our discipline exceeds his.”
Satori nodded. “Third?”
“He’s on the offense. They will try to force us into a single, decisive battle.”
Satori’s brow furrowed. “How can we prevent that?”
“We can’t. Normally, with a smaller army, I’d use hit-and-run tactics. But we don’t have the necessary depth of field here. They will be in Anthea within a day if we don’t stop the invasion.”
“So there’s nothing we can do?”
Gella smiled. “We’ll force him into a bottleneck, spread his troops. If we have to fight a big battle, let that be on our terms.”
Satori failed to smile back at her. “Four?”
“Adaptability. Most Capital officers lack the ability to think creatively. Theirs is a highly centralized system. We can use this to our advantage. Shift the conditions on the ground when they least expect it. Take advantage of the chaos this will cause. We have to be more flexible than them.”
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 73