Sunset Over Abendau (The Inheritance Trilogy #2)

by Jo Zebedee

  He swept his eyes over the crowd. Soldiers lined the hall behind the dignitaries. He scanned the lines, picking out face after face, and paused when he reached Sergeant Kym Woods. He wasn’t the only person who felt the weight of every one of those ten years. Her uniform was immaculate, her face composed and hard. Why had she stayed in his army? She hated him. But what else would she do? She was a professional soldier – why should she lose everything she’d worked for? She gave a slight nod, not an acceptance, barely an acknowledgement, and he knew he’d get nothing more. She’d accepted him as her commander in chief. Let that be enough.

  “I could practice speeches in my sleep.” There was a murmur of laughter and he waited for it to die away – if they knew what he really did in his sleep, they wouldn’t laugh. “But this is different.” He found the little group of ten men.

  “Ten years ago, we broke out and brought down an empire. Our comrades sacrificed their lives. In the base, in the air, on the parapets, they were slaughtered.” He let the words hang in the air. He didn’t look at Kym.

  Lichio prowled at the front of the stage, as he always did at these events, like a cat aware and in tune with the security teams across the room.

  “When I took the empire, I did it to bring peace.” No mention of being forced to it. “That peace is strong now, through all the systems. We – myself, the planetary administations, the great families, yourselves in the military – have worked for that peace. My mother left the empire divided. She let those who supported her thrive. Those who didn’t, died.”

  Sonly’s face had frozen. This wasn’t the speech they’d discussed. He saw the hardness in her eyes, and met it with his own. The time had come, before he delayed so long he was worn down and no longer had the strength, or the vision, to carry this through.

  “Ten years brings about–”

  “Get down!”

  At Lichio’s yell, Kare dived to the side. A laser hit his shoulder. A moment earlier, it’d have been his heart. He rolled behind the podium, trying to draw his blaster. Gasping for breath, he became aware of Slane, his security guard, kneeling beside him, his hand on Kare’s back, pressing him to the floor. Angelo lay nearby, dead eyes staring. Yells echoed around the room, followed by the sound of gunfire. Kare tried to get up, but Slane held him firmly. There was another exchange of shots, a pause, and a single shot rang out over the shouts.

  The pressure on Kare’s back lifted. He struggled to sit up, and again went to draw his blaster, but his arm refused to obey. He’d taken the shot full on the upper muscle. Already it was burning and deepening through the tissue layers.

  Slane nodded at someone at the back of the stage, and a medic came over. “Get the Emperor off stage.”

  They reached to lift Kare, but he pushed onto his feet, his hand over the wound. “I can walk.”

  The crowd was silent, calmer than the events would suggest. If this had been in Abendau with a room full of politicians, it would have been panicked and chaotic. Here, the soldiers had taken cover and assessed the situation. Some had their weapons unholstered, others had civilians ducked with them, carefully under surveillance. He saw that the group of ten had come closer to the stage, perhaps looking to protect him.

  He stumbled off the stage, and out of earshot of the crowd. “What the fuck is going on?” He waved the medic away. “And where is General le Payne?”

  Lichio approached, his face pale. “Here, sir.”

  “Who was that? And how did they get a weapon in?”

  “I don’t know yet, sir. But I will.”

  Kare took his hand away from his shoulder. The medic pulled his jacket off, the skin lifting with it, and Kare bit down against a yell. “Was he from the tribes?” His words came out through gritted teeth.

  “No. It was a professional attack. Possibly Star ops – it fits their attack profile.”

  “Star ops? What the hell are Star ops doing getting this close?” Kare hissed as the medic prodded his wound. “Take Hiactol’s retinue apart. And Clorinda’s. After that, work through the rest of the families. If they complain, I’ll be happy to discuss, in person, my aversion to being shot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Anyone hurt, other than the guard?”

  “Just the attacker, sir. He did himself in before we could bring him down.”

  Disappointing, but not surprising. “Pity. First thing tomorrow, you and I are reviewing the arrangements for next week – I’m not spending it as target practice.” He looked at the medic. “Numb it.”

  “It needs to be treated.”

  Kare glared at him. “Numb it.” The medic was right – numbing would only take the edge off a laser burn. “I have a speech to finish.”

  “No, you don’t,” said Lichio. He met Kare’s eyes. “Sir. We don’t know if the attacker was on his own. This night is over.”

  The hell it was. Kare straightened up. “Post your men where you need them and have the room returned for the speech. This one I finish.” He paused. “One other thing: have Sam see me later.”

  “There are medics here.”

  “I want Sam. That’s an order.”

  A muscle in Lichio’s cheek moved. “Yes, sir.”

  The medic sprayed the wound, and the burning eased, buying him time before the real pain would hit. Kare stepped out on stage, the lights dazzling him. He crossed to the podium and gripped it for support.

  “Ten years ago, I fought to bring down an empire. My mother’s empire. It stood for everything I do not.” He saw himself on one of the screens, his shirt ripped, the wound oozing, red under the harsh lights. Below, the room was silent. Sonly, white and shocked, was in the front row. “The rich still own the planets. They control the shipping lanes. They strip the outer zone and leave children to starve.” He raised his voice. “It will be done in my name no longer.”

  A searing pain ripped across his arm, and he took a drink of water, masking a grimace from the audience.

  “My mandate is not for those who take for themselves. I didn’t accept my mother’s throne to uphold her ways.”

  Sonly looked stunned. If she could, she’d take the stage herself and shout him down. She couldn’t. Not here, in his own crowd, in his environment. He took another drink, this one gulped. Gods, it hurt. He resisted the urge to look and see how deep the burn was. The room swam.

  He focused on Sonly. It didn’t matter what lay between them, only that she knew she’d built something strong enough to replace the core of his power.

  “I will pull down the structures of my mother’s empire and replace them with a new vision.”

  Let Sonly see that he trusted her more than he’d ever been able to tell her. In giving up the empire, he would be giving her the future her father had dreamed of.

  “Education for all. Not just the rich. Finance for the outer systems to grow. New governance for the middle zone – their path to independence.”

  Would she understand he was offering her not a single Senate keeping one planet safe, but a republic to safeguard all? Once, she’d had enough vision for a galaxy of people, before the Senate had stifled it. Let her take that vision back.

  “I have taken you this far. It’s time to grasp the future.”

  His fists were clenched. He was sweating under the lights. He looked more like the soldier who’d taken Abendau than the poised Emperor who’d stepped on stage.

  He scanned the crowd, dizzy and sick, until he found the ten men. He’d changed the empire’s name, yet it was still referred to as the Pettina Empire by many. It was ruled by the same families and controlled by the same institutions.

  Time to quit. Finish the job. Go further than he’d planned to, by saying the two words and getting off the stage. He moved forwards, his steps easier now he’d decided. “I– ”

  The shine of Sonly’s blonde hair made him hesitate. The aftermath would be extensive, star-systems wide.

  “I– ”

  The room was swimming i
n front of him, sweat burning his eyes, his shoulder a mass of burning agony. There would be war between the families. Millions would die. This wasn’t the action to take. Not tonight, not this week, or this month. It was something to be worked towards.

  “Tonight, I give notice,” he heard himself saying, hating himself for being so constrained to his duty. At least let him give no room for constitutional arguments that would go on and on for years. Let him lay down what would happen. “The Senate will form the basis of a new republic. It will take the integrated zones forward and wrest the power from those who abuse it.” He lowered his head, took a deep breath, past the pain. “The Pettina Empire will be no more. I will tear it down, and leave nothing of it in place.” He stared at himself on the screen. “Nothing at all.”

  He was dimly aware of those in the room rising to their feet, applauding. He caught Perrault’s eyes and nodded. When he stepped to the side he almost fell; only Lichio grabbing him kept him upright.

  “Get me away,” Kare said. He blinked, clearing his vision. “I need pain meds.”

  “You should have called the speech off.” Lichio opened a door and fell into step beside Kare, his hand on Kare’s elbow, supporting him. “What the hell have you done up there?”

  “What I should have done years ago.” His voice was slurred. “Has my wife asked about me?”

  “She checked you were all right.”

  “Good.” He took a deep breath, knowing he was burning yet another bridge. “I won’t see her tonight. Just Sam, no one else.” He’d face Sonly in the morning, when his mind was clearer. Tonight, she’d twist what he’d done, turn it into something smaller than he meant, something planned to hurt her.

  “He’s waiting for you.” Lichio didn’t argue, and that was good – the deed was done, all right.

  They walked down the corridors until he found himself in front of the door to his apartment. Lichio pushed it open. “Sam!”

  A figure seated near the window stood up and came over. He reached out, taking Kare’s weight from Lichio.

  “Leave us,” muttered Kare, swaying a little.

  Lichio didn’t move. “I’ll stay.”

  “Go.”

  Still Lichio waited, his mouth set in a line of disapproval.

  “I’ll call if I need you,” said Sam. His voice came from a distance. The door closed with a staccato click. Sam led Kare – supporting him, not guiding him – and sat him on the sofa. “Let’s have a look at it.”

  Kare bit back a yell when Sam touched around the wound. He stopped and reached past Kare for his medical bag.

  “Anyone else would be screaming the place down by now,” said Sam. He put some salve on the wound. “You should have had this treated at the time. You know a laser burn worsens if you don’t.”

  “I hoped if it was numbed, it would slow it.” The room slowly spun. “That’s it, cream?”

  “For now – it needs treatment in the hospital wing. I’ll give you some pain meds and strap it up, and then get you booked in.”

  “I’m staying here.”

  Sam shook his head. “You need monitored – it’s deep.”

  The salve started to work, letting Kare breathe easier and focus his mind. “I’m staying here. Sam, I need sleep.”

  “Then go and lie down.” Sam didn’t meet his eyes.

  “You know what I want. Please, I know you have nightfire – you use it on your patients.”

  “See your own doctor.”

  “Sam… please. One night? I can’t tell my doctor the Emperor spends his nights screaming the place down. Please.”

  Sam hesitated. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you some heavy-duty stuff to kill the pain, and I’ll pour you a bloody big whiskey. I’ll comms Nina and tell her she’s on her own with the kids, and stay the night here. If you wake, I’ll remind you it’s not real. In return, you’ll let me hook you up to a monitoring station.”

  “Sam, please.”

  “Kare, no. Nightfire is dangerous. You’ve used it before, you were dependent on it. I can’t agree. Please, don’t ask again. It’s not fair.”

  Kare waited, hoping Sam might give in. All he wanted was one night of oblivion. He knew at one point he had overused it, but this was different, surely. He was exhausted and needed to heal.

  Sam stood. “Now, how big a whiskey? You’ve had a shock.”

  Kare paused. A shock? He looked at his arm. “This? This is like old times– ”

  His eyes filled with tears. He tried to take a breath, but couldn’t, his throat constricted as if he was back wearing his collar again. He started to shake, and the room spun around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him. He was going to pass out….

  He managed a deep breath, pushing the panic back, but when Sam handed him a glass he sloshed the drink and had to put it down.

  “Kare, it’s not your fault, not tonight, not any of it.”

  Sam’s voice cut through the panic. It is; of course it is. Kare put his head in his hands, and for the second time that day, broke down. I have to get a grip, be stronger.

  ***

  Sam thanked the medics for bringing the monitor up, and let them out. He closed the door and looked at Kare dozing fitfully in his chair, and thought back to their conversation this afternoon about Sonly and Peiret – that had been easy to confirm, it was all through the compound. It was all a bloody mess.

  “Kare,” he said, softly. “Get into bed. I’ll bring you some pain meds.” Kare looked at him, his eyes haunted and scared.

  “I’ll stay,” said Sam, “and what I’ll give you will knock you out for a few hours, at least.” The state he was in, it should knock him out for a week.

  Kare nodded, and got up. Sam waited a short time before following him. Kare had changed into a pair of loose trousers and sat, bare-chested, on the edge of the bed, his shoulder weeping. It’d scar badly, but what was another scar to Kare? Sam tapped his uninjured arm, and Kare held it out, automatically, not flinching when Sam injected him.

  “Thanks.” Kare’s voice was shocked, and he shivered, even in the warm room.

  Sam nodded. “Lie down; I need to hook you up to the station.”

  He waited for Kare to settle, saw his eyes were already closing, and placed the station’s monitor on the end of his finger. “Go to sleep. I promise you won’t wake alone; not tonight.”

  He sat for a while longer, until he was sure Kare was asleep, and then left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He shouldn’t wake alone any night. Sam resolved again to talk to the le Paynes in the morning – Kare needed more support.

  He lay on the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and when he woke to the sound of whimpered pleas, it was six hours later. That would help, he reckoned. He went into Kare’s room and didn’t wake him, but turned on the light. Don’t let him wake in the dark; Beck kept him in the dark all the time.

  A few minutes later, as a scream died away, he looked down to see Kare’s eyes, watching him. Sam waited, knowing that there was a good chance he’d been in the nightmare. Kare sat up and pushed his fringe from his forehead with a shaking hand, and Sam removed the monitor from the other.

  “Tea?” asked Sam. “It’s morning. Close to, anyway.”

  “Painkillers? This arm is on fire.”

  “Something to eat, and painkillers,” Sam said. He took a moment to read the overnight report and then stopped, satisfied. “Sounds good.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  Sam held his eyes for a long moment. “You don’t need to thank me, but you do need to think about what to do.”

  Kare’s eyes filled with tears. “I need to calm down, that’s all.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” said Sam. “Take a quiet morning, okay? Rest here. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Kare. “I have to see Lichio at some stage.”

  “I’ll send him up. And some food. Stick out your arm.”

  He gave Kare another
injection, enough to make him drowsy enough to sleep. That was the best he could do for now. Slow Kare down, give him a chance to rest, and maybe, just maybe, stop things getting any worse. It was what he should have stayed and done years ago, if he’d only been braver.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The sun woke Kerra, telling her she was at the compound; in the palace, her room had no window. She stretched, enjoying the warmth, but still preferred her other room where she had all her toys around her, not just the few she had here. When her dad was at the palace and tucked her in, on the rare occasions he had time, he pretended he couldn’t find her, pulling out teddies instead. She closed her eyes for a second and wished – like she always did in the lazy time between waking and sleeping, when all things were possible – that her mum and dad were together.

  Getting up, she padded to the next room and took a drink-pod. She popped it and looked at the food unit, trying to decide what she wanted – breakfasts were boring. A soft sound made her turn. Her mum was sitting at the bay window overlooking the desert. Kerra stared for a moment, surprised to see her up first, and in place of her governess, especially the morning after an event. “Mum?”

  Her mum jumped and turned, and Kerra could feel waves of worry coming off her.

  “Hi, Kerra.” Her mum’s voice was odd – both too quiet and too high at the same time – and, as another wave hit her, Kerra took a step back into the kitchen area. She never picked up her parents’ feelings: Dad sensed her any time she tried it, the residual knowledge of a psycher’s touch, and Mum had known him when he’d been at his very best – she was sure he hadn’t really been that good and was too good at hiding things. “What’s wrong?”

  “Kerra, there’s nothing to worry about, but there was an incident last night…”

  The words reeled through Kerra’s mind, making her feel sick. “Who?”

  Her mum reached for her, and Kerra could only get the sense of her dad and blood and panic and–

  She ran from the room. The security guards were at the door – they always were – but she didn’t care, even though she was in her pyjamas and they were old with a teddy on them, like a kid’s. She ran down the short corridor and fell against her dad’s door, hammering and sobbing. There was no answer. She banged again, willing it to open, and him to be there.