Black Jack had been different, rumor said. But then, he was Black Jack.
And Drakon had been different as well, which was why these soldiers had followed him when he and Iceni rebelled against the Syndicate.
“We’ll get this done if it needs doing,” Drakon said. “We’ll do it smart, and we’ll do it right.”
The colonels could tell when Drakon had ended a discussion and issued an order. They all saluted in the Syndicate fashion, bringing their right fists across to rap their left breasts.
As Safir and Kai left, Rogero lingered. “General, I’m going to be escorting Captain Bradamont to the landing field. She’s taking a shuttle up to the light cruiser Osprey, which will take her to Midway.”
“Good.” Drakon gave Rogero a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you two keep getting separated.”
“It’s not nearly as bad as it was during the war,” Rogero pointed out.
“Why isn’t she going to Pele? Bradamont was a battle cruiser commander for the Alliance. I remember hearing that battle cruiser types in the Alliance looked down on battleships.”
“They do,” Rogero said. “Swift and agile versus slow and clumsy, attack versus defense, is how Honore explained it to me. But her assignment is to command the entire force, if necessary. Pele might have to make some risky attacks.”
“So she has to stay on the battleship, so she can survive and continue to command the fight.” Drakon nodded in understanding. “We know how that goes. The hardest thing can be standing back and keeping an eye on the big picture when you want to throw yourself into the fight. She’s a good officer, isn’t she?”
“The Syndicate never could beat them.”
“No.” Drakon snorted, gazing at one wall, not really focusing on anything as he remembered too many battles in too many places. “They couldn’t beat us, either. What do you suppose would have happened if Black Jack hadn’t shown up?”
“Both sides would have kept fighting until everyone like you, me, and Honore Bradamont was dead, and then everything would have fallen apart,” Rogero said.
“Yeah.” Drakon looked at Rogero. “Tell Captain Bradamont good luck from me, and that I expect her to kick the butts of any enigmas or Syndicate warships that show up here.”
Rogero grinned and saluted again. “Yes, sir.”
But the smile faded before he reached the door and Rogero turned his head to look at Drakon again. “Sir? What do you think they’ll find at Iwa?”
“I think,” Drakon said, “that you and I are very lucky we aren’t at Iwa. The enigmas have never left any survivors.”
“Taroa is rebuilding from the damage suffered during its rebellion and civil war, but with Ulindi leaderless it won’t be able to contribute any help to us anytime soon.”
“President Iceni and I have a plan for Ulindi,” Drakon said. “I’m going over to her offices now to see if we can make it happen.”
* * *
TWO comfortable chairs faced a blank wall. Iceni took one, Drakon the other. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“No.” She gave him a look. “You have the right to veto it.”
“I know.” Drakon sat back, trying to relax himself, and trying to decide if he really wanted to exercise that veto. “I saw what things are like on Ulindi. The snakes did their best to gut that star system of anyone who could run things.”
“And he can run things,” Iceni said. “Our sources in Syndicate space have confirmed his story to some extent. But uncertainties remain.”
“Ulindi needs a strong hand,” Drakon said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Iceni tapped a control and the blank wall vanished, turning into a virtual window that covered the entire wall so that the room seemed to have more than doubled in size. Now visible was the inside of a cell designed for VIP prisoners. Not exactly comfortable, but not a living hell, either. The cell boasted a decent bed as well as a chair, both fastened securely to the floor and the chair facing toward where Drakon and Iceni sat, but not much more except for the vast array of sensors that kept continuous watch on the cell’s occupant.
CEO Jason Boyens, alerted by the change in light to the virtual window, sat up on the bed, then stood carefully. He looked a little haggard, which wasn’t too surprising given that he had spent some time wondering if at any moment he would be taken out and executed. Boyens walked toward the virtual window, facing Iceni and Drakon. “It’s nice to have visitors. I’m glad to see you survived the trap at Ulindi, Artur.”
“I wouldn’t have been in nearly as much danger,” Drakon said, “if you’d spilled your guts about the Syndicate trap at Ulindi before I left.”
“But I did tell you. Or rather, I told Gwen here.” Boyens gestured toward her. “Apparently, my warning came in time. But I don’t think you’re here to thank me.”
Iceni’s smile flicked on and off so rapidly that it was barely visible. “No, Jason. We’re here to say good-bye.”
Boyens stiffened, swallowed, then nodded. “Why the forewarning? To make me suffer as I wait for the end?”
“You misunderstand, Jason,” Iceni continued. “We’re letting you go.”
That was a bit too much even for someone experienced in the often-lethal cat-and-mouse games of Syndicate CEOs. Boyens swayed slightly, then put one hand on the chair beside him. “If you’re playing with me, you’re doing a good job. May I sit down?”
“Please.”
Boyens took his seat, then looked at Drakon. “You were always the straightforward sort, Artur. What’s the deal?”
Drakon smiled, too, deliberately letting Boyens see grim amusement. “Just as Gwen said. What you told us about the Syndicate wanting your hide on the wall appears to be true, and since we’ve let the Syndicate know through various unofficial means that their trap failed at Ulindi because you warned us about it, we can be pretty confident that you won’t try to make nice with the Syndicate again anytime soon.”
“How nice of you to give me credit,” Boyens said. “If the Syndicate gets its hands on me now they’ll turn me over to Happy Hua with instructions to make sure my end is painful and prolonged.”
“Happy Hua won’t serve the Syndicate anymore,” Iceni said. “She died at Ulindi.”
The smile on Boyens’s face was unquestionably genuine. “What a shame. We all do what we have to do, but she enjoyed it. Too bad the Syndicate still has plenty of other cold-blooded killers to employ. What is it you want from me?”
“We want you to go to Ulindi,” Drakon said.
Boyens, as skilled at CEO backstabbing as he was, still looked floored by the statement. “Ulindi? Did you tell them I was responsible for what happened there?”
“No.” Drakon took a deep breath, remembering things seen at Ulindi. “How much did you know about the trap there? You told us that you only knew it was intended to draw us in and hit us with hidden military forces. Is that all you knew?”
“That’s all I knew. It wasn’t a plan I was supposed to have any role in, so I wasn’t even supposed to know the plan existed. But enough people were gabbing about it that I could make out the outlines.”
Boyens could not see the readouts visible to Iceni and Drakon. He would have known his cell contained numerous sensors which monitored every aspect of his body, something useful for maintaining a picture of a prisoner’s health but also extremely helpful in determining if someone was lying. The readouts told Drakon that Boyens hadn’t lied just now. That wasn’t always helpful, because anyone given secrets was also given techniques for outwitting such sensors by phrasing answers in just the right way or simply refusing to answer at all. But in this case Boyens had answered clearly and unambiguously.
Drakon nodded. “It’s lucky for you that you didn’t know more. As part of their preparations for the trap, the Syndicate wanted to ensure that no one at Ulindi would cause them any problems. The snakes carried
out mass arrests.”
“Naturally.”
“And they murdered everyone they arrested.”
“They—?” Boyens inhaled sharply. “That’s insane. They must have gutted Ulindi’s upper ranks, and middle ranks, and—” He stared at Drakon. “There’s a leadership vacuum at Ulindi, and you want me to go there?”
“That’s right.” Drakon smiled again. “We’re giving you the chance to be the person who starts putting Ulindi back together.”
“You’re putting me in charge of Ulindi?” Boyens didn’t seem able to grasp the idea.
“No,” Iceni said with a low laugh. “We’re not in charge at Ulindi. We couldn’t force a ruler on them, and we don’t want to. The last thing they need or want is another Syndicate CEO.” Her expression shifted to a glare. “Do you understand? Anyone who shows up at Ulindi acting the CEO is going to get torn to pieces by the mob, which is very upset by the atrocities the snakes committed before those snakes got a taste of their own medicine at the hands of General Drakon’s forces. But the people at Ulindi desperately need someone who can help form a decent government, help the star system get back on its feet, and help establish the means for Ulindi to stay independent of the Syndicate.”
“I don’t understand.” Boyens looked from Iceni to Drakon and back again, as if seeking some answers in their expressions. “What exactly is your goal? What is it I am expected to do? Because I have no doubt that you’ll have safeguards in place to ensure that if I do the wrong thing I won’t enjoy it for long.”
“Our goal,” said Drakon, “is a strong Ulindi. That means no dictator diverting resources in order to keep the people in line. No attempts to continue the wasteful and corrupt Syndicate system under another name. But it also means a government strong enough to get things done, a government not dependent on any one man or woman, and able to handle any crisis that comes along, including attacks from more than one source.”
“Oh, I thought you were asking me to do something difficult!” Boyens lowered his head, rubbing his face with one hand, then looked back at them. “You really think I can do that?”
“You’re good at what you do, Jason,” Iceni said. “You couldn’t have survived this long while double-crossing and triple-crossing so many people without being a very smart operator.”
“But how does anyone form a strong government without just telling everyone what to do and enforcing it with the sort of things the Syndicate does?”
“We can offer you some pointers.” She cocked her head slightly to one side, eyeing Boyens. “What’s the matter? Is this beyond your ability?”
Boyens laughed. “I’m good enough to spot that simple kind of manipulation, Gwen. So, you’re giving me a chance to remake Ulindi and get that star system back on its feet after the Syndicate cut it off at the knees. And if I start murdering my opponents and firing on the mob you’ll have me taken out by some of the agents you doubtless have hidden on Ulindi. Or you’ll send in a battleship and tell my loyal subjects to turn me over or else, which I’m sure those subjects would do without hesitating if I haven’t engendered some loyalty in them. What do I get out of this?”
“Your life,” Drakon said.
“And a chance to build something,” Iceni said. “What would it feel like to be the founder of a new state at Ulindi? To be remembered for what you built there? You’ll get power, and probably wealth, out of the deal. But you’ll also get the right to feel a little self-respect again. Let me tell you from personal experience that is not a bad thing.”
Boyens didn’t reply for a long moment, his eyes on Iceni. “I always thought you were ruthless and clever, Gwen,” he finally said, “but I never realized how tough you were. And, you, Artur, always sticking your neck out. I figured Gwen would have you taken out sooner or later, if the snakes didn’t get you first. But I didn’t realize how smart you were. And now you two are offering me not just freedom but a chance to do something with it. Oh, I know what’s going on. For all of your talk about acting differently than the Syndicate, you two are playing the same old game. You’re handing me an impossible task, expecting me to fail, so you can blame me. And if somehow I succeed then you’ll take the credit for it. But you’re right that I can’t run back to the Syndicate. Fine. I know that Midway is going to be the big dog in any relationship with Ulindi. I can work with that. I can work with you. You two can be the senior partners. If this is the deal, I accept.”
“Then we will arrange your transport to Ulindi,” Iceni said, “along with our assurances to what few authorities Ulindi still has that you have been cleared by security.”
“We won’t tell Ulindi anything else,” Drakon said.
“You need to tell them more. People there will know me,” Boyens objected. “You rescued those survivors of the Reserve Flotilla. I was in a senior position in that flotilla for a long time.”
“That’s right,” Drakon agreed. “And you were a CEO, but you weren’t an awful CEO. You didn’t make a good impression when you were here commanding that other Syndicate flotilla, but images from transmissions you made, images that show that snake CEO Happy Hua at your back ready to plunge in a knife, have been popping up in a lot of places, along with comments that she must have been forcing your hand.”
“Still manipulating social media, and every other form of media?” Boyens asked sarcastically. “I guess some of those Syndicate habits die hard.”
“Those skills are useful and essential for survival,” Iceni said. “It is also being noted that when Happy Hua operated that flotilla alone, she acted much more ruthlessly. There were no bombardments of worlds when you were in command, creating the impression that you acted as a check on Hua’s natural cruelty.”
Boyens straightened in his seat, looking legitimately affronted. “I did act as a check on her. That’s not just an impression. I took some serious risks to hold her back. I’m not a butcher, Gwen. Why do you think the Syndicate turned on me? Because Hua’s report painted me as the cause of that flotilla’s failure, saying I was insufficiently zealous in pursuing Syndicate objectives.”
“We know,” Drakon said. “If you had a history anything like Hua’s, you’d never leave that cell you are in. But Gwen and I know that you’re actually telling the truth, that you haven’t been a cold-blooded killer, that none of the survivors of the Reserve Flotilla have called for your head on a plate, and even Black Jack saw something worthwhile in you. You can go to Ulindi as the man who prevented Happy Hua from doing the sort of thing she did to Kane after you were relieved of command of that flotilla, and as the CEO in the Reserve Flotilla who may not have been a hero of the workers but did treat them like they were human.”
Boyens shrugged. “Rewriting history is easy. I always knew rewriting the memories of those who know you is another matter altogether. All right. We have an agreement. Once you let me out of here, I’ll let you know everything else I found out in the Syndicate. There’s nothing remotely as big as the trap that was being set at Ulindi, that was my trump card and I gave it to you freely, but perhaps you can use some of the other gossip. Oh, one other thing. I have no ambitions to be a general like you, Artur, but if I manage to attain the power I need at Ulindi can I call myself a president as well, Gwen?”
She smiled again. “If you earn it, Jason.”
This time, Boyens smiled back. “Then let’s get in the same room, raise some glasses, and toast the resumption of a beautiful friendship.”
“Just a few minutes, and you’ll be out,” Iceni said. “We’ll see you soon afterward.” She closed the virtual window, leaving the blank wall in its place, then sighed. “I hope we’re not screwing this up.”
Drakon shook his head. “We know Boyens. He’s a smart operator, and he can be a decent guy if properly motivated. He’s going to be seeing agents of ours around every corner at Ulindi and be constantly worrying about what we’ll do if he starts acting like a snake or a Syndicate CEO.
Between that and fears of the Syndicate and the enigmas, he might just be what Ulindi desperately needs.”
“And what we need,” Iceni agreed. “My agents at Taroa report we have enough elected officials in our pockets there to ensure Taroa goes along with reasonable proposals from us.”
“My agents at Taroa tell me the same thing,” Drakon said. “If we get Ulindi and Taroa tied to us, Kane and Kahiki will do the same. Ulindi, Taroa, and Kane can all support substantial populations and have decent resources, or will once Kane rebuilds. And Kahiki offers us the sort of research labs it would be beyond our means to re-create here. Give us a few more years and we’ll have enough strength in these star systems to hold off even the Syndicate and the enigmas.”
“But will we have a few more years?” Iceni asked. “Or even a few more months?”
Drakon didn’t answer, because he didn’t have any answer to offer.
* * *
MANTICORE left jump space at Iwa with every weapon fully ready and her shields at maximum strength. As Marphissa shook off the effects of the transition from jump space she stared at her display with a growing sense of dismay.
A low murmuring came from the others on the bridge as Manticore’s sensors reported what they could see.
“Is there anything left?” Kapitan Diaz asked the senior watch specialist.
The specialist shook his head, his voice trembling slightly. “No, Kapitan. The city has been totally destroyed by orbital bombardment. All occupied off-planet sites have been destroyed. So have automated sites. Even small satellites have been blown apart.”
“But no sign of enigmas, either?”
“No, Kapitan. The ships that must have destroyed Iwa are no longer present.”
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