The crowd cheered, ripples of reaction running away from Drakon like rings in a pond in which a rock has fallen. He walked slowly but deliberately through the crowd, the omnipresent security cameras picking up his image and sending it everywhere on the planet. Citizens reached out tentative hands to touch his armor, some straining to touch the scars of recent combat against the snakes. Drakon felt the power of the mob as if it were a single vast organism, huge and immensely powerful, and fought down his wave of fear. He had seen armored troops pulled down and overwhelmed by masses of civilians on Alliance planets and had a healthy respect for what an aroused mob could do. But he tried not to show any concern, instead holding that smile and maintaining his steady pace as he called out occasional vague words about order and law and safety.
A younger citizen, just coming to draft age by the look of him, eyes afire with emotion, thrust himself before Drakon, heedless of the weapons that Malin and Morgan immediately trained upon him. “When are the elections? When will we truly choose those who govern us?”
“We’ll get to that,” Drakon replied loudly. “Things have changed.” No one spent a lifetime dealing with and working among the Syndicate Worlds bureaucracy without developing a skill at mouthing meaningless reassurances that promised nothing.
The passionate young man looked uncertain, then he was pushed aside by other citizens and lost in the crowd. But Drakon had a bad feeling that his question would not be so easily disposed of in the days to come.
* * *
ICENI and the others on the bridge of the heavy cruiser watched video from the surface, showing Drakon’s triumphal procession through the streets and the adulation the citizens were heaping upon him. “You’d think that I’d done nothing,” she commented to those around her, keeping her tones partly annoyed and partly amused to hide the concerns those images created. If Drakon becomes the face of the rulers of this star system, he can more easily push me aside. Drakon may have to be dealt with after all.
CHAPTER FIVE
HER assistant, Mehmet Togo, finally called in as Iceni’s cruiser neared orbit about the planet once more. “It took some time to override the locks placed on my systems by the ISS,” Togo explained.
“Did any snakes make it to my office complex?”
“No, Madam CEO. Several snakes were approaching our entrance when they encountered some ground forces.” Togo’s lips didn’t smile, but his eyes held wicked amusement. “The snakes got no farther.”
“Are there any ground forces in or near my offices?” Iceni asked.
“The nearest ground forces are on the streets outside, engaged in crowd control,” Togo replied. If there had been soldiers there, out of sight but with weapons aimed at Togo’s head, he could have used a code phrase to indicate duress, but that phrase hadn’t been in his reply. Everything is fine. A good code phrase to Iceni’s mind, since everything was never fine. Something would always be a problem.
“I’ll be taking a shuttle down in less than half an hour. I want a full report before then of what CEO Drakon is up to, and I want to ensure we have just as much access to the planetwide surveillance and announcing systems as he does.”
“Yes, Madam CEO.”
“I am streaming you some files of the engagement up here where we defeated CEO Kolani’s force. Make sure that those files and the news that my force defeated the threat of orbital bombardment are broadcast to the populace. I want the citizens to look upward and realize that it is thanks to me that the warships remaining in this star system are here to protect us, not threaten us.”
“A very good phrase, Madam CEO. I will make certain all of the citizens hear it before your shuttle has landed.”
Iceni grimaced with exasperation. It had been a long day and was far from over; there were too many variables to deal with and not enough information. At least Togo was still alive, and there weren’t soldiers crawling around her own offices. Drakon wasn’t being too obvious or brash if he intended taking over completely.
Maybe she should speak with him again before returning to the planet’s surface where she would be within reach of Drakon’s soldiers. Iceni was reaching for her controls when C-625 finally called in from its position near the gas giant.
The woman sending the message wasn’t C-625’s commander. She was also wearing a snake suit. Two bad omens whose dire implications were quickly confirmed. “This is ISS Executive Jillan to the traitor Iceni. The former commander of this mobile forces unit and several of her executives have been summarily executed. The ISS has established temporary direct control of this unit and will respond only to the orders of CEO Hardrad and CEO Kolani. For the people, Jillan, out.”
Damn. Either the snakes on C-625 had been particularly alert and ready to act, or the commander and executives on the cruiser had been too slow to make up their minds. Iceni hit the reply command. “ISS Executive Jillan and all personnel aboard C-625 and the other mobile forces at the main mobile forces facility, this is CEO Iceni. CEO Hardrad and CEO Kolani are dead. All ISS personnel elsewhere in this star system are also dead. I am in full control of the remaining mobile forces in this star system, and my ally CEO Drakon is in full control of the surface of the inhabited planet. This star system is now independent of the Syndicate Worlds and ISS authority no longer applies. You are to surrender C-625 to me. If you do so, the ISS personnel aboard C-625 and the units accompanying it will be granted safe passage out of this star system. A swift response is expected. For the people, Iceni, out.”
Akiri wasn’t asking, but he and Marphissa had surely already tapped separately into the message to learn what their superiors were up to.
Iceni faced them, keeping her voice level as she continued the pretence that the others did not know the content of the latest message. “The snakes control C-625.”
“Should we plot an intercept?” Marphissa asked.
Akiri shook his head. “They can easily evade us with the amount of distance between us. We’d never catch them.”
“Do we have other options?” Iceni asked.
Akiri paused, then looked to Marphissa, who also thought before making a helpless gesture. “We can’t catch them,” she agreed with Akiri. “Not unless they choose to fight us, and that seems unlikely. The ISS personnel in control of C-625 are not combat experienced. They don’t know how to operate that cruiser.”
“They could let automated systems on C-625 handle maneuvering and firing weapons,” Akiri grumbled. “They must know such an attack would be suicide, but we can’t assume they know how futile it would also be.”
Iceni nodded slowly. “That’s another good point. I’ve demanded that they surrender, but they won’t. They’ll head for the hypernet gate.” Both Marphissa and Akiri gave her surprised looks. “The snakes in control of C-625 aren’t like CEO Kolani. They were not responsible for controlling this entire star system. Their responsibility was to ensure control of C-625, and that they have successfully done. They can run to the central government at Prime and report personal triumph as well as the failures of their superiors. That’s what they’ll do.”
Akiri had quickly entered some data into the maneuvering systems. “If they do head for the hypernet gate, we still can’t stop them. They have too much of a head start on us. The civilian transport near the gate to act as a courier can’t do anything to stop that cruiser. You could order the defenses around the hypernet gate to engage C-625 when it gets close enough, but that might cause C-625 to fire upon the gate and damage it.”
Iceni brooded over that question, then made a helpless gesture. “It’s not worth the risk of damage to the gate. Tell the merchant ship courier to remain well clear of C-625 if it heads for the gate. There’s no sense in losing that ship.”
“Are we certain,” Marphissa asked, “that the snakes on C-625 won’t also launch a bombardment of the planet? The load-out on a single heavy cruiser isn’t huge, but it’s enough to seriously damage several targets on the planet.”
Targets meaning cities. Iceni thought
again, then shook her head. “No. Snakes follow rigid discipline, which teaches them to do exactly what they’re told and nothing more. They don’t have orders to launch a bombardment, and devastating portions of the planet might be the wrong thing to do. Lacking anyone to tell them that they must bombard the planet, they’ll take the safe option of leaving that decision to superiors at Prime.”
The slight twist of Marphissa’s lips conveyed that she knew the concepts of rigid discipline weren’t confined to the snakes. But she was wise enough not to say that out loud.
“Let me know if C-625 leaves the mobile forces facility,” Iceni directed. She then checked a certain mailbox and found it still empty. Her source close to Drakon had nothing to report, or in the current rush of events couldn’t go through the many convoluted steps necessary to get something into that mailbox so that no one could tell where the message had come from. Or that source had somehow been compromised and cut off by Drakon. Nothing could mean nothing to fear, or it could mean a great deal to worry about.
She called Drakon.
* * *
DRAKON’S response took an irritatingly long time. He finally called back, still wearing the combat armor. Was that display meant to send a message to her?
“Good to see you’re still around,” Drakon began.
“How nice of you to say so. I’m so glad you could take time from demonstrating your control of the planet to speak with me.”
Drakon smiled briefly. “There were matters that had to be dealt with. I understand that you’ve won, too. What happened to Kolani?”
“Dead.”
“That simplifies things.”
“Yes,” Iceni agreed. “With Hardrad dead as well we’ve cut in half the number of CEOs in this star system.”
His expression hardened. “Are you implying that should happen again?”
“That is not my wish.”
“I’m well aware that you don’t need me anymore now that the snakes are gone from this planet. You cut the deal with Black Jack, and you control the mobile forces here. I can’t touch you, but you could drop rocks on me all day. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Iceni regarded Drakon silently for a long moment before replying. “We both had our own reasons for rebellion against the Syndicate Worlds.”
“We didn’t have any choice when those orders came through for Hardrad to conduct the loyalty sweeps. We had to work together, or this star system would have ended up like all those other places where fighting has broken out. It was pure luck that we were already separately planning on revolting.”
“I never underestimate the importance of luck,” Iceni said. “I also don’t underestimate the value of people who don’t betray me when they have the chance.”
Drakon laughed. “We had plenty of levers to use against each other if it came to that.”
“There was nothing negative I could prove about you as serious as the deal I cut with Black Jack.”
“Yes,” Drakon agreed. “Making a deal with the Alliance would look bad to the snakes.”
“The deal was with Black Jack, not the Alliance,” Iceni said.
“What’s the difference?”
“I’m not sure at this point. He may be the Alliance.” Iceni frowned at Drakon. “The deal was worth the risk. We needed to know that Black Jack wouldn’t come charging in here to help enforce Syndicate authority, and I needed to be able to imply his backing for what we’re doing. The ability to say that Black Jack knew what we’re doing, wouldn’t interfere, and won’t let anyone else interfere, is invaluable.”
“Is that actually what Black Jack agreed to?” Drakon asked.
Iceni smiled without any hesitation at all. “Of course.”
“That’s quite a few important concessions from him. I’ve been wondering why he gave that up so easily.”
This time Iceni shrugged. She had no intention of admitting to Drakon that she had significantly exaggerated the extent of Black Jack’s support for her actions. “Maybe he really needed that mechanism to prevent hypernet gate collapses. Maybe he just wanted to be able to have leverage over us in the future. We’ll deal with that when we have to. We’ve already dealt with our former masters. Anything the government on Prime plans will take time to get together. We’ve got breathing room now.”
“No, we don’t.” Drakon waved to indicate the area outside where he sat. “The citizens are happy now, but I had one hell of a time keeping things from coming apart. Our own populace is poised to rise up in rebellion against us unless we handle them right. Leading this rebellion ourselves was our only chance, but I don’t think ‘same leaders, same rules, different titles’ is going to work very long. The citizens will figure out that game in no time.”
Iceni scowled. “We have the tools and tactics left us by the snakes. We can eliminate anyone we need to if they try to rouse the populace against us.”
“That worked for the snakes and the Syndicate Worlds. Until it didn’t,” Drakon pointed out. “I can ID anyone rabble-rousing. The surveillance software makes it easy to spot any leaders emerging by their communications patterns. And I can nail them as they pop up. But they’ll learn. How many different ways do you and I know to avoid snake surveillance?”
“Too many.”
“And you and I both know how many underground activities there are, black markets in anything you care to name. If a resistance starts using those techniques, spotting them will be as hard as hell. We need at least passive support from the majority of the citizens so rebellion can’t gain any foothold.”
“We have the warships,” Iceni said. “They’re our hammer to help ensure control of this star system.”
“Big hammer. Blunt hammer. We can nuke cities when things get out of hand, but that tends to dry up public support, and we don’t have an infinite supply of cities.” Drakon pointed to a display on one wall of the room where he sat, showing images of a mountain near a lake on some planet a very long way from here. “That’s from Baldur Star System.”
“I’ve heard of it but never been there. The beauty of the place is supposed to be breathtaking.”
“It is,” Drakon said. “But when I look at that picture, I wonder if that mountain and lake are still there, or if some orbital bombardment has turned that landscape into a cratered, lifeless ruin. We know the Syndicate way failed. Any fool could figure that out when the damned Alliance fleet came strolling through this star system and informed us that the war was over.” He snorted. “Our own government, the oh-so-efficient and effective Syndicate Worlds, couldn’t tell us that they’d lost. No. The enemy had to come here and do it, then the enemy blew away a bunch of those enigma ships that have been invulnerable to us because even though we’d spent decades trying to find out stuff about the enigmas, it only took the Alliance a few months to figure out how to defeat the aliens.”
“They had Geary,” Iceni said in a soft voice. “Black Jack.”
“Black Jack.” Drakon shook his head. “I didn’t believe the information we were getting about his coming back from the dead.”
“He came back,” Iceni replied. “I talked to him. It’s not a trick. Maybe he did us a favor.”
“By knocking the legs out from under the Syndicate Worlds government? Maybe. The corporate autocracy always justified itself by claiming to be superior to every other system, especially the inefficiencies of the Alliance.” Drakon gave her a skeptical look. “I’ll let the remnants of Syndicate authority on Prime try to come up with reasons why we couldn’t win a war despite a century of trying, then got our butts kicked by someone who supposedly died a hundred years ago. Are you sure Black Jack won’t be back here, trying to add us to an empire?”
Iceni looked down, her eyes hooded, recalling the messages she had received from Black Jack. “I can’t be sure of anything, but he seemed authentic. Just a military officer out to do his job. He’s either real, or he’s the best fraud I’ve ever seen.”
“He has to be working some angle.”
“If
he were one of us, he would be.” Iceni fixed her eyes on Drakon’s. “Speaking of working angles, if I haven’t made it clear already, we still need each other. If you try to betray me, you might succeed, but even though the snakes are gone you’ll still go down with me. Just so you know.”
Drakon smiled at her, his voice and expression betraying nothing. “I already assumed that. I have control of the ground forces on the surface here and elsewhere in the star system”—he used one hand to mime pointing a weapon at her head—“and you have control of the mobile forces.”
She mimicked his gesture, pointing her own forefinger at him. “Let’s hope neither one of us is foolish enough to force the other to pull the trigger.”
“What do I have to promise to make you feel secure returning to the surface?”
“Your promises mean nothing.” Iceni watched him again, wishing she knew more about the man. “But I do have control of the mobile forces, and I will tell you that if anything happens to me, dead-man programs within their targeting systems will automatically launch a bombardment of the planet using every kinetic projectile aboard these warships.”
“I’d hate to see that happen.”
She couldn’t tell whether or not Drakon believed her. In fact, she hadn’t had the chance to set up such a system. But all that mattered was that Drakon believed she had, or remained uncertain about whether such a system to retaliate for her death existed. “Me, too. I’m glad we understand each other. I’ll be taking a shuttle down soon. I believe a face-to-face conference in a secure location as soon as possible is important. Where will we meet?”
Drakon paused to think. She knew what he was concerned about. If he came to her offices, it would feed the impression that she was superior to him. But if she went to his headquarters to meet Drakon, it would imply that Drakon was ultimately in charge.
“There’s a set of secure conference rooms the snakes maintained partway between your offices and my headquarters,” Drakon finally said. “We already went through them, looking for any snakes hiding out there, but I’ll make sure they’re swept again for snake surveillance gear and booby traps before you land. Is that acceptable?”
The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight Page 10