The Fighter King

by John Bowers

  Oliver was stunned. He'd come on an introductory tour, had never expected an order of new ships. His old man would be ecstatic.

  "You bet!" he said. "How about additional munitions?"

  Baker shook his head slowly. "Naw, I don' think so. We been served quite well by a couple of local fact'ries. I don't want to export everything off world, but we do like yore fighter and nobody around here has ever showed us a better one. As long as yew stay ahead of the local competition, yew can keep the contract."

  * * *

  Oliver stood on the balcony of his hotel room just after dark, staring at the awesome sky holos that shimmered above New Birmingham. He'd seen similar sights in Tokyo and New York, but never anything like this. The Sirian holos were easily a thousand feet across, as sharp and clear as real life, the colors bright and distinct. Most were product advertisements, but a few were holovids, adventures in the sky. He watched for several minutes, wishing he could hear the sound, but he had no implants.

  A chime sounded in the suite behind him, and he stepped inside in time to hear the sexy voice of the hotel AI.

  "A visitor is at the door, Mr. Lincoln. It appears to be a young lady."

  Oliver grinned. He punched a button near the doorway and the opaque force field turned translucent. Victoria Lincoln stood there, looking fresh and cosmopolitan in an expensive outfit.

  "Door open," he said, and the force field disappeared.

  His sister stepped through, looked him up and down, and threw her arms around his neck.

  "Ollie!" she sighed. "It's so good to see you!" She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back, surveying him again.

  "Come inside, why don't you," he chided. "Kick off your shoes, stay awhile."

  "Hey, just because you finally got your degree doesn't mean you can go giving orders, okay?" She laughed. "You look great!"

  "Bullshit. I'm getting fat and losing my hair. You're just being nice because you haven't seen me in ten years."

  "It's only been two, Ollie. You always exaggerate everything."

  He ordered the force field closed and escorted her into the suite; he poured her a glass of wine and sat down facing her, drinking in the sight of her. Even as children, they'd always been close.

  "How you been?" he asked.

  "Busy. Just like you. You get my graduation present?"

  "Yes. It arrived the night before the ceremony. You get my thank-you message?"

  "Two weeks later!" She laughed again. "Procrastination, Ollie. I always warned you."

  "I don't procrastinate, I just put things off."

  "How are Mom and Dad?"

  "Just like always. Dad's cranky and, well, you know Mom. Everyone is out to get her."

  Victoria nodded, her smile fading. She knew only too well.

  "So how do you like Sirius?"

  "I love this place," he admitted. "Everyone is so friendly here, so down-home. It's like being in Texas or Arkansas."

  "Aside from the slavery?"

  He nodded soberly. "Yeah. Their attitude toward human rights just boggles my mind."

  "Have you gotten laid yet?"

  He blinked at her candor, then felt his cheeks flush.

  "Hell, I've only been here two days!"

  "It shouldn't have taken you that long."

  He nodded ruefully. "On the starship they have these women, I guess they're called serfs. They look like a million terros and all they do is solicit the male passengers."

  "How many solicited you?"

  "All of 'em, I think. Hell, there's not much else to do on a starship for nine days, so …"

  "You came on a Confederate starship."

  He nodded. "Never seen anything like it. And the food — god! I never knew barbecue could taste so good!"

  "The Sirians do know how to cook."

  They sat staring at each other, suddenly at a loss.

  "You hungry?" he asked.

  "Starving."

  "Great. I spotted a restaurant this afternoon, looks like a great eating spot. Already made reservations."

  Victoria hesitated, her lovely dark eyes losing their sparkle.

  "Actually … Ollie, let's order room service. I'm really beat, and I'd rather just sit here and talk to you. I hear the chef in this hotel is pretty good."

  Surprised, Oliver nodded.

  "Sure. I'll call down."

  They enjoyed a leisurely dinner of Texiana beef, sautéed green vegetables, and wild rice, with obscenely expensive California wine imported from Terra. Oliver ate until he was stuffed, but judged that it was no better than he'd eaten the night before at Brandon's plantation.

  Victoria talked in broad terms about her job, avoiding anything specific, and Oliver told her about his final two years at Berkeley.

  "And Dad offered you a vice presidency?" she asked.

  "Well, not quite. You know him; doesn't believe in 'shameless nepotism'. He put me in R & D, under Rod Harper. I have to prove myself before I can move up. The only concession he made was to let me liaise with the Confederacy whenever necessary. I think that's because he's tired of making the trip himself."

  "Working with Harper will be good for you. You can learn a lot in his department."

  "I have no problem with Harper. But some of his people seem a little stiff."

  "It isn't easy working with the boss's son. Give them some space, do a good job, and they'll come to respect you on your merits and not your name."

  Oliver grinned. "Damn straight, or I'll fire their asses when I take over."

  "How's Henry doing?" Henry Wells was Oliver's closest friend.

  "He's a congressional aide now, on his way to the big time."

  "I always knew there was a politician in him somewhere." Victoria smiled. She'd dated Wells when they were both teenagers. "Politics run in his blood. I expect he'll make history some day.

  "And what about Rosemary?" Her eyes twinkled.

  "Gorgeous."

  "Anything going on between you two?"

  "No."

  "When are you going make your move? I know you're smitten by her."

  "Aw, Christ, Vic — that would be like making a move on you. She's almost like my sister!"

  Rosemary Egler had moved into the Lincoln home seven years earlier, when her entire family was killed in a hovercar crash. Oliver Lincoln II and Johnny Egler had been best friends; Lincoln had become legal guardian for the sixteen year-old. Oliver III, aggressive and profane, had found himself at once attracted to and intimidated by the demure brunette; he'd become her big brother, never once acting on his desires.

  They chatted aimlessly for another hour. Oliver found it relaxing, but gradually became aware that something wasn't right. The third time Victoria glanced at her watch, he frowned.

  "Vic, is something wrong?"

  She stared at him as if caught stealing cookies, her brown eyes wide and guilty.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You've looked at your watch five times in the last hour. You have another appointment later?"

  For long seconds her eyes never wavered as she chewed the inside of her cheek. She shook her head abruptly.

  "No."

  Oliver waited, letting the silence stretch.

  "Okay," she said. "There is something. But I'm not sure I should tell you."

  "Why not?"

  "It might be dangerous for you."

  "Dangerous? For me?"

  "Yes." She heaved a shaky sigh. "Have you heard of the KK?"

  "Secret police?"

  "They're a lot more than just a police agency. They're the deadliest organization on this planet. Everyone is afraid of them, even Sirian citizens. They have absolute autonomy over everyone, can do anything they want. I doubt if even President Adolph would dare cross them."

  Oliver frowned. "Don't they work for him?"

  "They were established by Lucius Clay, the Confederacy's first president. They worked for him, but after he died they've taken on a life of their own. They forced his son out of office in 0113, and
since then every president has served at their pleasure. In a very real sense, they control the planet."

  "Okay. What do they have to do with what you want to tell me?"

  "What I'm about to tell you is so sensitive that you would be in grave danger if the KK ever found out you knew it."

  "That logically means you're in just as much danger," he said.

  "Exactly. But if you can keep your mouth shut until you get home, we'll both be a lot safer. Can you do that?"

  "Of course. What is it, the story of the century?"

  "That's exactly what it is."

  "Are you serious?"

  "As a scorpion snake. Look, the only reason I'm telling you this is because I don't trust anyone else. And if anything happens to me …"

  "Whoa! Hold it! Why don't you just come home with me? File your story from New York and the KK can't touch you."

  "I can't leave yet. I don't have all the details, and I need them before I can file. In the meantime — don't interrupt! In the meantime, if the KK should catch on to me, I need to tell someone else who can sound a warning."

  Oliver felt an involuntary shiver pass over him. Victoria was so spooked he was starting to believe her.

  "Okay, Vic," he said quietly. "Start talking."

  In less than a minute she told him about the Vegan choirgirls, the bus wreck, and the KK cover-up.

  "I have a source," she continued, "an independent informant. I don't know where he gets his data, but I've used him for over a year and he's never been wrong yet. I contacted him, and in a matter of hours he was able to tell me that the tour bus was deliberately attacked by some kind of rocket launcher or energy weapon. Half a dozen girls were killed and the rest were abducted."

  Oliver frowned. "Who would do such a thing?"

  "Hey, little brother, this is the Sirian Confederacy. Kidnap and rape is a participation sport here. The law doesn't protect women who aren't citizens."

  "But the Vegan girls are foreign nationals! Sirians can't just indiscriminately attack foreign women, can they? I mean, it would kill tourism."

  "As a general rule, you're right. The average tourist is perfectly safe here. But my informant told me that the KK abducted the choirgirls and is holding them captive. That explains the cover-up about the tour bus, and the story that the girls went home because of illness."

  "But if the girls don't show up on Vega, that's going to cause trouble," he said. "I hear there's already tension between Vega and Sirius."

  "Yes. It's been building for several years, and within the last few months it's become positively explosive. That's the other part of this. When the girls don't return to Vega, Queen Ursula is going to scream bloody murder."

  "So the KK will have to produce the girls. Or explain what happened to them."

  Victoria sighed deeply and shook her head.

  "No, Ollie, they won't. Because they don't plan to give the girls back."

  "What?"

  "They'll probably end up in a government slave market somewhere."

  "Vega will never stand for that. Will they?"

  "You're not listening to me, Ollie. Shut up for a minute, will you!"

  He spread his hands. "Sorry."

  She stared at him for fully ten seconds, her face creased with stress.

  "I don't know when," she said, "and I need to find out, because I need to break this story before it happens …"

  "Before what happens?"

  "Some time in the next few weeks, a few months at most — the Sirian Confederacy is going to invade."

  Oliver blinked stupidly. "Invade who?"

  "Vega, goddammit! Sirius is going to attack Vega!"

  Chapter 5

  New Birmingham, Missibama, Sirius 1

  Oliver sat dumbfounded. His sister's dark eyes looked tormented. She kneaded her fingers without apparently noticing it.

  "Are you sure?" he asked finally.

  "Yes. As I said, this particular source has never been wrong yet. Not once."

  "Do you have any evidence? Anything concrete?"

  "Just what he told me. I need more than that before I can file the story, but I have to treat this as if it's genuine."

  "Vic, if it is, and if the KK ever finds out that you're on it …"

  "I know. That's why I needed to tell you. If anything happens to me, you can …"

  "What? Tell Dad? Who the hell else am I going to tell? Who will believe me?"

  She stared at him for long seconds, then nodded slowly. "You're right. Without the evidence, it's worthless."

  Oliver leaned forward.

  "My advice to you is forget it. It isn't worth your life. From what you said, the KK plays for keeps."

  She shook her head again. "Ollie, how can I forget it? If I can verify this, it's the biggest story I'll ever see."

  "You're thinking of your career? Christ, Sis, I'm worried about your life!"

  "What about the millions who will die if it's true?"

  "You think you can stop it? Do you seriously think the Confederates will cancel their plans just because you filed a news story on Terra? Hell, the Solar Federation isn't going to take any action. We don't even have a military to speak of. If we did, LincEnt would be selling fighters to them. The way it is now, our Space Force couldn't stop a fucking bank robbery!"

  Victoria stood and paced around the suite. Oliver watched her, waiting for her reaction. Finally she turned.

  "Whatever happens, Ollie, I have to do this. I have to."

  "Dad would tell you otherwise."

  "Yes, I know. But he calls me the black sheep, so what does it matter."

  Oliver felt a stab of pain at her words. Their father, Oliver Lincoln II, hadn't been pleased with Victoria's career choice, nor her liberal political views. Victoria was clearly aware of that.

  "He loves you, Vic. He doesn't want you to get hurt."

  She smiled bitterly. "I've got to go, Ollie. How long are you staying on Sirius?"

  "A few more days."

  "Watch your ass, okay?"

  He rose and crossed the room to put his arms around her.

  "It isn't my ass I'm worried about," he told her. "You don't do anything stupid, okay?"

  She kissed his cheek, then laid her head on his shoulder.

  "I love you, Ollie."

  "I love you, too. And I'm very proud of you."

  She smiled at him. "Be good, Ollie. I'll see you soon."

  From a hotel room sixty yards away, an invisible laser beam kissed the window of Oliver Lincoln III's hotel suite. The sound of Victoria's departure rode the beam back to the surveillance equipment in the darkened room.

  "She's movin'," the agent at the window said into his implant. "She just left subject number two."

  "She on the street yet?"

  "Negat."

  "Did she self-incriminate?"

  "Yep. Completely."

  "Keep me posted."

  "What about subject two? Do I take him out?"

  There was a long silence. Then,

  "No. We cain't risk it. Right now he ain't a threat."

  "She told him everything."

  "It's in his best interest to do nothin'. His company sells us combat spacecraft. He met with the Defense Ministry this mornin'. Let him go."

  The agent at the window sighed, disappointed.

  "Okay." He leaned forward, glasses to his eyes. "She's on the street now. Looks like she's headin' back to her own building."

  "Good. I'll take it from here. You kin pack it in. Good job."

  * * *

  Victoria Lincoln let herself into the apartment and locked the door.

  "Lights on." She turned toward the kitchen for something to drink. An oppressive dread clung to her bones; she had a lot to think about. She crossed the living room and dropped her handbag on the table.

  "Evenin', Miz Lincoln."

  Victoria spun so hard she almost fell down, a scream at her lips. Ice water surged through her veins.

  The man was seated on the couch, slou
ched so low she hadn't seen him. She stared at him in horror, a hand over her heart.

  "Jesus Christ!" she gasped. "Who the hell are you?"

  He got slowly to his feet, never taking his eyes off her. He was slender, medium height, and blond. He wore a sport jacket and tie; a small round pin was attached to his lapel, shiny black with a lightning bolt. His eyes were the color of cobalt, his thin lips twisted in a little sneer; he looked amused. He took a deep breath, tilted his head to the side, and raised his eyebrows.

  "Don't really matter who I am, Miz Lincoln," he said in a lazy drawl. "What's important is my message."

  "Message? What message?" She frowned. "Has something happened to my …" She almost said "brother", but caught herself just in time. "Has something happened?" she amended.

  His sneer relaxed into a solemn glare. "Why don't you tell me?" he suggested.

  "Tell you what? What are you talking about?"

  "Oh, come on, Miz Lincoln — kin I call you Victoria? Come on, Victoria. I think you know 'zactly what I mean."

  Victoria tried to think, to collect herself. He was going to play games, so she had to lose the angel-in-a-solar-flare expression and make a fight of it. The odds were he only wanted to scare her.

  "Okay, look —" She forced a scowl and marched toward the door. "I want you out of here. Right now! Or I'll call the police!"

  He smiled easily.

  "That's good, Victoria. That's really good. I didn't know your résumé included drama trainin'."

  He stretched leisurely, never breaking eye contact.

  "I think you oughta drop the innocent act and sit down, Victoria. You and me, we need to have us a little talk."

  She glared at him, her mind racing. For a brief instant she considered racing out the door and trying to see how far she would get. But he would have backup all over the building. And if she should by some miracle actually get away, what then? They might go after Oliver.

  "Talk about what? And stop calling me Victoria."

  He dipped his head in acquiescence. "All right, Miz Lincoln. If that's the way you want it. Now, suppose you sit down."

  She hesitated.

  "I got all night, Miz Lincoln. And it won't make no difference in the long run. You might as well sit down."

  She slowly returned to the living room and settled onto the edge of a chair, keeping several feet away from him.