by J. L. Doty
“No,” York barked. “My gunboats are already prepared. One of them will pick you up immediately.”
Again Ard’dha’sit nodded coldly. “Very well, Captain.” He cut the transmission.
“Jakobee,” York said. “Send Two, with two marines, sidearms only, as security. And clear Three Bay. We’re going to need the room. Set up a conference table like in One Bay.”
Add’kas’adanna met him at the lift. “You play well, Captain.”
When the lift doors cycled open, Kalee and Alsa Yan were in the lift, and Alsa looked no happier than Ard’dha’sit. She grabbed York, pulled him into the lift and barked, “Computer, seal this lift and hold static.”
She ignored the computer’s acknowledgment and turned on York. “Kalee tells me you’re wounded.”
“It’s a minor wound,” York pleaded. “We don’t have time for this.”
She spun him about and lifted the side of his tunic. “Shit,” she grumbled.
“See what I mean, ma’am,” Kalee said. “He’s bleeding like all hell, but the wound don’t justify that.”
She probed, poked, let her instruments bleat at her for a few seconds. “You’re experiencing regrowth rejection, and some clonal implant failure. We’ve done too much work on you lately, haven’t given your body a chance to absorb and adjust to all the repairs. Any other wounds?”
York decided not to tell her about the broken ribs. “No.”
“Any other symptoms? Numbness? Anything out of the ordinary?”
Again he lied. “No.”
“All right,” Alsa said unhappily. “I’ll stop the bleeding, but you get your ass to sickbay as soon as this is over.”
“Yes, ma’am,” York said. Kalee grinned.
Councilor Ard’dha’sit stepped off the gunboat in Two Bay accompanied only by six unarmed Kinathin bodyguards, and three middle-aged men. He was the first male Kinathin York had ever met in person, and while York had become accustomed to the height of the two female Kinathins, Ard’dha’sit stood a head taller than them, and he towered over York.
Sab’ach’ahn, whom York had instructed to stay close at hand, stood behind him, though she seemed not to exist for Ard’dha’sit. If any Kinathin words were spoken she was to quietly translate them into her throat mike so he could pick them up in his implants. Add’kas’adanna was conspicuously absent, and York had no idea where she’d gone. Ard’dha’sit made it clear he would rather just chew York up along with the mouth full of nails he was enjoying. When Ard’dha’sit turned and introduced the three middle-aged men with him, it was York’s turn to stand open-mouthed and dumbfounded: Directors Kaffair, Ninda and Zort.
York was starting to recover his composure when his implants said, “Cap’em, Mec Notay here. I’m with the empress and Directors Theara and Add’kas’adanna in Hangar Control. They want to talk to you.”
He keyed his implants. “I’ll be right there.” To Ard’dha’sit he said, “Sergeant Palevi will show you to a place where we can talk.”
Ard’dha’sit demanded, “Where is Add’kas’adanna?”
York said, “Add’kas’adanna is where Add’kas’adanna chooses to be, though I do hope she’ll join us shortly.”
“Captain,” Cassandra said as he stepped into Hangar Control. “This isn’t working.”
He ignored her, sat down at a console and keyed his implants. “Jakobee, I’m in Hangar Control. Give me a sit-map.”
A full situation map appeared on the screen in front of him. Half of Home Fleet had fragmented into a dozen small free-for-alls. Another forty ships from Home Fleet appeared to have joined Tzecharra. She had positioned them into a defensive line between the fighting and Cinesstar, with her sixteen original ships providing a second buffer behind them where she could intercept anything that might get through. The Kinathin armada had not moved. “What’s the situation, Jakobee?”
“You can see for yourself it’s a mess, and unstable as all hell. Tzecharra says she’ll try to give us plenty of warning if it starts to go bad on us.”
York ran his fingers through his hair. “I suppose that’s all we can hope for. Let me know if anything breaks.”
York stood and almost bumped into the empress. She and the other two women had been looking over his shoulder at the sit-map. “I didn’t realize the situation was so unstable.”
Theara added, “All the more reason to get the treaty signed as soon as possible.”
Cassandra shook her head sadly. “That’s the problem. Abraxa, Soladin and Schessa are holding out. Ordinarily the three of them are at each other’s throats, and if we could get just one of them to break it might be enough to sway the other six. But with all three of them aligned the Council won’t budge.”
York looked at Add’kas’adanna. “How’ll you vote on this treaty?”
Theara looked at her sharply. “She always votes with Ninda.”
Add’kas’adanna shrugged. “When I return to the Directorate I will do as kith’ain dictates.”
York grinned. “You don’t have to wait until you return to the Directorate. Ard’dha’sit brought Ninda, Zort and Kaffair with him.”
Even the stoic Add’kas’adanna lost her composure for a moment. Into the silence York said, “We have aboard this ship the ruling bodies of both the Directorate and the Empire, so let’s see what we can do with that.”
CHAPTER 43: THE FINAL TREASON
In Three Bay Ninda and Kaffair were already arguing over the treaty while Zort looked on. When York stepped out of Hangar Control with Theara, Add’kas’adanna and Cassandra, Ninda turned on Theara, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I knew it had to be something like this. You and our esteemed Director General have always been naive.”
Theara held up a copy of the treaty. “It’s time for this, Ninda. And it’s long overdue.”
Ard’dha’sit silenced them both. “Stop this petty squabbling.” He turned to Add’kas’adanna and spoke in Kinathin.
He is saying nothing more than a polite greeting, Captain, York’s implants said in Sab’ach’ahn’s voice.
Ninda turned to York. “Now what, Captain?”
“No one is a prisoner here,” York said.” You’re free to go, all of you, including Directors Add’kas’adanna and Theara.”
“Then we will go,” Ard’dha’sit said.
Add’kas’adanna spoke barely above a whisper. “I will stay.”
Ard’dha’sit rounded on her, locked eyes with her for a moment then nodded. “Then we too will stay.” He turned carefully to the other Directors. “And that includes you.”
York hastily introduced Cassandra then gestured to the conference table, “Shall we be seated?”
Ard’dha’sit stiffened. “In Kinatha we do not sit while confronting our enemy.”
York pulled out a chair, sat down, leaned back casually and spoke harshly, “First, Councilor Ard’dha’sit, we are not in Kinatha. We are within sovereign imperial space. Second, we are not on a Kinathin vessel, we are on an imperial vessel. Third, you’re my guest. And fourth,” York softened his voice. “I think I’m no longer your enemy.”
Ard’dha’sit frowned, considered him for a moment, then pulled out a chair and sat. Cassandra and the five feddie Directors did likewise. The hull echoed with the distant, muted sound of automatic weapons as Palevi’s marines continued digging out the last of the AI holed up on G-deck.
“We have a treaty here,” Kaffair said. “It’s not perfect, but it’s better than anything we could hope for.”
“And what will it buy us?” Ninda demanded.
Theara answered him, but York didn’t listen. Ard’dha’sit’s attention briefly appeared elsewhere as he obviously used his implants to speak with his subordinates. He was paying no more attention than York to the argument raging about them.
York was tired, and he could see this was an old argument they’d gone through many times. He keyed his own implants and spoke softly, “Jakobee, what’s the status on G-deck?”
I’ll put you direct
ly in contact with the corporal in charge down there.
There was a brief pause, then, Cap’em, Cleaver here.
“What’s the status down there, Meat?”
There’s only about five of ‘em left, Cap’em, and we got ‘em bottled up tight. I tell you, we could end this fast if you’d just let me blow vacuum in this section. They don’t got no vac suits.
“Negative, Corporal. As long as you’ve got the situation under control I’m not desperate enough to try that. You do have the situation under control, don’t you?”
Yes, sir. They don’t have any more heavy stuff so it’s just a matter of time.
“Very good. Ballin out.”
“. . . and so I call for a vote,” Ninda shouted.
Kaffair argued, “You’re calling for a vote only because you know you’ll win.”
“Nevertheless, I’m calling for a vote.”
Kaffair nodded sadly, obviously resigned to defeat. “Very well. As Director General it’s my duty to administer a vote. It will be a voice vote. Those in favor of signing vote aye, those opposed nay.” Kaffair spoke mechanically. He sounded tired and lost. “We’ll vote in order of precedence, and so I’ll vote first. I vote aye.”
That was expected. Kaffair and Theara were in favor, Ninda and Add’kas’adanna opposed. Zort was the wild card.
Kaffair looked at Ninda, who reveled in what he and everyone perceived as a forgone conclusion. “Nay,” he barked triumphantly.
Kaffair turned to Theara. She looked around the table sadly. It was clear she too thought Ninda’s victory was complete. She shook her head and closed her eyes, spoke as if she were on the verge of tears, spoke barely above a whisper. “Aye.”
Zort was next. Theara had told him Zort occasionally went his own way, whereas Add’kas’adanna had never done other than rubber-stamp Ninda’s wishes.
Zort looked at Ninda and spoke hesitantly. “Nay.”
Kaffair buried his face in his hands. “Add’kas’adanna,” he said through his fingers.
Add’kas’adanna looked at York and, as if by way of apology, said, “Kith’ain, Captain. Kith’ain.”
York nodded back at her. He had come to like her, wanted to say he understood.
She looked at Ninda. “I vote aye.”
It took them all a moment to realize what she’d said. Kaffair was the first. He dropped his hands from his face and his head snapped toward Add’kas’adanna, his eyes wide.
Zort cringed. “What’s this mean?”
“It means,” Theara said, “we’ve won. We’ve won.”
“No,” Ninda shouted and stood. He leaned across the table. “You have not won. I invoke the right of executive veto.”
Theara closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped. Cassandra turned to Kaffair, demanded, “What is he talking about?”
Kaffair took a long, tired breath and spoke calmly. “All votes in the Central Committee are carried by simple majority. But any Director may veto any vote by invoking executive veto, in which case the vote will be carried only if the other four unanimously override the veto.”
Kaffair looked at Zort. “The vote was carried properly. Help us.”
Zort looked from Kaffair to Ninda and shook his head. “No. I can’t change.”
Ninda grinned. “The veto stands.”
Captain, Jakobee here. Jakobee’s voice in York’s implants was excited, almost shrill. We’ve got three transition wakes bearing down on us from the vicinity of Luna, ETA eight seconds.
York noticed Ard’dha’sit had cocked his head, listening to his own implants, probably getting the same message. York keyed his implants. “Take evasive action, and tell Tzecharra to take ‘em out. We’ll ask questions later. Stand by for—”
York was completely unprepared for the hand that suddenly gripped his throat, lifted him out of his chair and slammed him against a bulkhead. His head cracked hard against the plast and he almost lost consciousness. He struggled weakly, but he was pinned against the bulkhead with his feet several inches off the deck, and in the background he heard Palevi shouting, “Hold your fire. Hold your fire. Stand to, marines.”
The grip on York’s throat was like a steel vice. Ard’dha’sit leaned in close to him, their noses almost touching. He spit a single word in York’s face, “Kith’at’annan.” Sab’ach’ahn had told him Kith’at’annan could mean either supreme warrior or hated enemy. There was no doubt which form of the word Ard’dha’sit meant.
Palevi stood behind Ard’dha’sit, his sidearm aimed at the back of the councilor’s head, and behind him Ard’dha’sit’s Kinathin body guards had all dropped into a crouch, while Palevi’s marines had drawn their weapons. York caught Palevi’s eye, managed to squeak out, “Hold.” Ard’dha’sit’s grip tightened around his throat, the blood pounding in his head. If he lost consciousness a blood bath would follow.
Through it all Add’kas’adanna strode calmly across the deck, stopped just to one side of the enraged Ard’dha’sit. She said something to him calmly in Kinathin, and in the middle of it York recognized the words “. . . Ballin Kith’at’annan . . . ,” though the tone and inflection of her use of the word was far different than Ard’dha’sit’s.
Through a growing haze of unconsciousness York heard Sab’ach’ahn’s words. Captain, she told him she bears you kith’ain debt, and she has acknowledged you Kith’at’annan.
The vice-like grip suddenly disappeared from York’s throat and he dropped to the deck in a heap. He tried to stand, then decided against it as a wave of pain shot through his wounded side. To hell with it, he thought, and decided to stay there, maybe just sleep for a century or two. He was so very tired.
“Cap’em.” York opened his eyes. Palevi was leaning over him. “You all right?”
He growled, “Help me up, god damn it.”
Palevi lifted him to his feet, steadied him against a bulkhead. “You sure you okay, Cap’em?”
“I’m as okay as I have to be. Where’s Cassandra?”
The empress sat at the make-shift conference table, her face buried in her hands. York fell into the seat beside her. She looked into his eyes, and he could see the tracks of the tears that had streamed down her cheeks. “We’ve lost,” she said calmly. “It’s over.”
York was reminded of his own thoughts. Move, move, don’t stop, don’t think, just move.
“Let’s throw them all together,” York said. He didn’t wait for Cassandra’s reply. “Palevi,” he bellowed.
“Sir,” the sergeant bellowed back at him.
“Bring them all with me. Anyone doesn’t want to come, drag them. They become too much of a problem, shoot ‘em.”
“Sir. Yes, sir.”
As York stood Ard’dha’sit caught his arm, demanded politely, “What do you want, Ballin Kith’at’annan?” There was a clear difference in the way Ard’dha’sit now said the word.
“Bring your people with me. Everyone.”
York staggered toward the hatch to One Bay.
When they stepped into One Bay they must have seemed an odd assortment of Kinathins, Federals and Imperials. York let Cassandra make the introductions, which were sufficiently startling on both sides. As she did so he scanned the faces on the deck, saw that everyone was exhausted. They’d also decided that Abraxa and Ninda had won. Some were ebullient, some clearly disappointed.
A wave of nausea washed through York. He closed his eyes, reached out, clutched at the nearest thing to him. When he opened his eyes he found he’d grabbed Ard’dha’sit’s arm. York would have expected Ard’dha’sit to pull away, but instead the Kinathin merely said, “What next?”
York grimaced, swallowed the nausea. “Get your directors seated around that table with our admirals.”
York realized then that he’d been wrong in assuming the other Kinathins were Ard’dha’sit’s bodyguards, that in fact two were assigned to each of the three Directors, and they acted more like baby-sitters than bodyguards. It didn’t take long to get everyone seated at the table.
Captain, Jakobee here. We’ve got a make on those three transition wakes that made a run at us, an AI cruiser and two destroyers. It was a stupid move. They didn’t make it past Tzecharra and her defensive perimeter.
York keyed his implants. “Thank you, Mister Jakobee.”
By that time the emperor had managed to establish a semblance of order. He took the initiative and spoke tiredly, “Perhaps it’ll be more productive if we go directly to the issue at hand.”
Andralla Schessa recovered first, leaned across the table at York. “The issue at hand is the legality of this meeting. You kidnap us, force us to sit here in a clearly contrived attempt at getting this bogus treaty signed.”
Tycho Marin struck back at her. “Perhaps we should discuss the legality of the recent attempted coup, Your Grace, as well as the kidnapping of quite a number of imperial senators and the imperial family.”
Soladin came to her defense. “You were not kidnapped, senator. You were taken into protective custody because of . . .”
Marin interrupted him. “Oh come now, Your Grace. We’re not children here. The legality of this meeting will stand on its own. We still have a treaty to consider.”
The chaos erupted again. York’s implants said, Captain, Jakobee here. The situation here is still as unstable as hell. Captain Tzecharra and I have been talking it over and we think we can gain an extra margin of safety if we redeploy.