Web of Truth (Cadicle #4): An Epic Space Opera Series

by DuBoff, Amy

  Saera smoothed back her hair. “I told myself I wasn’t going to turn into bridezilla.”

  Wil looked confused.

  “Idiom. Anyway, there’s some wedding planner on Tararia named Claude who keeps asking me all sorts of questions I don’t know how to answer.”

  “So fire him,” Wil suggested.

  “I’m not sure that’s an option.”

  Wil shrugged. “You can do whatever you want. Complete creative control over the day.”

  “I’m pretty sure your grandparents would disagree.”

  “That’s their problem.”

  “Which would become ours,” Saera pointed out.

  Wil sighed. “I have no further suggestions, then. I’ve never planned a wedding before, either, so I’m not going to give you advice.”

  “But you can at least state your preference when I ask.”

  “I have.”

  Saera crossed her arms over her new black uniform. “Which have all just been replies agreeing with me.”

  “Maybe we have the same taste.”

  “Or maybe you don’t want to say anything contrary to me.”

  “Given how you react even when I agree with you…” Wil countered.

  Saera paused. “Okay, fair point.” She pushed the projection of the catalog away. “I don’t want to pick the wrong thing and ruin the day. We’ve waited for so long.”

  Wil softened. “Saera, whatever you decide will be fine. I don’t care about any of this. All I want is to spend whatever I have left of my life with you.”

  “I thought you wanted a big wedding.”

  “Stars no! I thought you did,” Wil replied.

  What the…? “When I asked, you said we’d have it at the Sietinen estate.”

  “You mean that question two minutes after I proposed? I didn’t think that was binding. You started pulling all of this together and I figured that’s what you wanted. You’ve been so patient with me over the years, I was willing to make any concession just to ensure you got at least one perfect day.”

  Saera flushed. “Oh.” Why didn’t he say anything sooner?

  “Are you saying you don’t want a wedding on Tararia?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Saera buried her face in her hands.

  Wil pulled her hands back, grasping them gently in his. “What’s wrong?”

  “I got so wrapped up in these stupid details, I forgot to make it about us.”

  Wil gave her a sympathetic smile. “So let’s scrap the whole thing.”

  “No! I still want a wedding.”

  “I just meant this giant show on Tararia. Let’s bring it back to us.”

  Saera thought about it. “What would that be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Not helpful,” Saera said with a glare.

  Wil gave her a meek smile. “Well, we met here. Maybe something centered around the TSS would be more fitting.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “While most of Headquarters isn’t exactly scenic, the spaceport isn’t bad.”

  Saera considered the proposition. “The starscape would make for a nice backdrop.”

  “And maybe Banks could officiate.”

  “That would be more meaningful than someone we’ve never met before.”

  Wil nodded. “Exactly.”

  Saera searched his face. “Is that what you wanted all along?”

  “It occurred to me, but I wanted to make sure you got your dream day.”

  “I think that would be it. Easy, low-key—this other thing just isn’t us.”

  Wil smiled and gave her a kiss. “Then it’s settled. Tell Claude he’s out.”

  Saera grinned. “All right. But I do have one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I still get to wear my dress.”

  * * *

  Wil knocked on the High Commander’s door and waited to be beckoned in. Let’s see how receptive he is to the change in plan.

  Five seconds passed and the door clicked open.

  “What can I do for you?” Banks asked as Wil stepped inside.

  Wil closed the door. “I wanted to speak with you about a private matter.”

  “Sure, anything.”

  “Well,” Wil began as he took a seat across from Banks at his desk, “Saera and I talked, and the formal wedding on Tararia just doesn’t feel right.”

  Banks nodded thoughtfully. “You don’t have many personal ties there.”

  “And those we do have are… strained. Saera’s been driving herself crazy trying to plan for an event we don’t even want.”

  “I understand. Did you have something else in mind?”

  “We thought about having it here, in the spaceport.”

  Banks’s eyebrows raised with surprise. “I hadn’t even considered that as an option for you.”

  “Our entire life together has revolved around the TSS. It makes the most sense.”

  The High Commander nodded. “It does. Whatever you’d like for the event, name it.”

  “Would you be willing to officiate?” Wil asked.

  Banks’ face lit up. “Wil… I’d be honored.”

  Wil smiled back. “Thank you.”

  Banks leaned back in his chair. “It’ll be nice to have a happy occasion like this for a change.”

  “And an opportunity for those who mean the most in our lives to take part in the event.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I assume the Primus Elites and some of Saera’s Junior Agent friends can have the day off?” Wil asked.

  The High Commander smiled. “Of course.”

  “All right. We can work out the details later. Since we have your approval to conduct the wedding here, I guess I should go tell my parents the Tararia event is off.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Wil sighed. “Yeah… not quite sure how they’re going to take it.”

  “I wish you the best either way.”

  “Thanks.” Wil rose.

  Banks stood to see him out. “I’ll be awaiting instructions regarding the ceremony script, and anything else.”

  Ugh, so many details. No wonder Saera was losing it. “We’ll let you know. Thank you, sir.”

  After leaving Banks’ office, Wil sent a message to his parents asking to meet at their quarters. He jogged down the stairs and headed back toward the Agents’ residential wing. His parents were just arriving at their door as Wil approached.

  “Is everything okay?” his father asked as he palmed open the lock.

  “Yes, just wanted to discuss something with you.” Wil followed them inside.

  “What?” Kate asked.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” Wil suggested, gesturing toward the couch.

  Cris and Kate glanced at each other as they complied.

  “So, about the wedding,” Wil began, “we don’t want to have it on Tararia.”

  Kate’s eyes widened behind her tinted glasses. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve barely spent any time on the planet. We’d rather have it here—with our friends and TSS family,” Wil explained.

  “Can’t say I blame you,” Cris muttered.

  “But there’s an expectation—” Kate started to protest.

  Cris raised an eyebrow. “Since when is pleasing our families on Tararia a motivating factor?”

  “True. But what about having everyone together so we could talk?” Kate questioned.

  Cris sighed. “That’s a good point.”

  Wil eyed them. “Did I miss something?”

  “You know that long-term plan of ours—involving a certain change on Tararia?” Cris asked.

  Overthrowing the Priesthood, of course. “What of it?”

  “Well, the wedding would be a prime opportunity to do some mingling and see where everyone stands.”

  “Count votes?” Wil clarified.

  His father nodded. “Essentially.”

  Wil let out a long breath. “I didn’t think a change of venue wou
ld have those kind of ripple effects.”

  “Are you completely against having it on Tararia?” asked Kate.

  “I’d say it’s more of a strong preference not to,” Wil replied, thinking through the possibilities. “But maybe the change to TSS Headquarters would actually work to your advantage.”

  Kate perked up. “How so?”

  “I’d wager that almost no one on Tararia has ever been to a TSS facility, right?” Wil posited. His parents nodded. “So, why not show them what we’re really about here? It’s one thing to tell them about our power, but quite another to show it.”

  Cris frowned. “I’m not sure intimidation is the best way to go about this.”

  “Not intimidation,” Wil countered. “Just insight into an underrepresented population.”

  Cris shook his head. “Speaking from experience, most people are unnerved to be outnumbered in a room with telekinetics. I don’t think we’d win many friends.”

  “No, think about it,” Kate cut in. “It’s not about winning favor. We just need to show them that there’s a whole population that’s been relegated to the outside. Perfectly normal, sociable people that have been made outcasts.”

  “Show them that perhaps their supposedly impartial overseers are not as fair and just as everyone has been led to believe,” Wil added.

  “Plant the seeds of doubt,” Cris mused.

  Wil nodded. “It might be too premature to count your votes, but it would help lay the groundwork.”

  Cris smiled. “Well, I guess we have some wedding invitations to send.”

  * * *

  Michael entered the study room with caution. It wasn’t like Wil to call private meetings outside of his office.

  He peeked in the door and saw Wil playing on his handheld.

  Wil looked up and set down the device. “Hey. Sorry for the weird meeting place. I thought my office would be too formal.”

  Michael entered the rest of the way and closed the door. “No problem.”

  “This isn’t about training or the TSS,” Wil continued. “I know I’ve been your commander officially, but you’ve become a true friend to me and I value your council. And you’ve been a great friend to Saera, too. We talked, and we’d like you to be a part of our upcoming wedding. I think ‘Best Man’ is what you called it back home?”

  Michael smiled. “Yeah, that’s it.” He let out a sharp breath. “I didn’t realize the wedding was happening already.”

  “Well, Saera graduated, and that was the main holdup. It was going to be next year on Tararia, but we decided to do a more personalized event here at Headquarters.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Wil bit his bottom lip. “I understand if you don’t want to be a part of it.”

  Because part of me wishes that I was the one marrying her. “No, I’d be happy to stand with you.”

  “Great,” Wil beamed.

  “You know, I’ll always care about her, but it was never like what you two have. I’m genuinely happy she found you.”

  Wil nodded. “Thank you, that means a lot.” He hesitated. “I hope you’d be there for her if anything happened to me.”

  The statement caught Michael off-guard. “Sure. Of course.” He said that almost like he expects something to happen.

  “All right, then,” Wil said as he rose. “We don’t have all the event details worked out, but I’ll let you know. It should be pretty straightforward.”

  Michael stood, as well. “Looking forward to it.”

  CHAPTER 22

  The time had come to make a move.

  Haersen was gathered in Tek’s office along with the other officers involved in the plot to overthrow the Imperial Director. Months had passed since the plans were laid. Everyone was antsy for action.

  Tek folded his hands on the desktop and addressed the group. “In his usual fashion of incompetence, the Imperial Director has failed to take my threats against him seriously. Given his failure in the most recent attack on TSS Headquarters, it’s time to get more aggressive.”

  “How?” Komatra asked.

  “By making a threat he can’t ignore,” Tek replied. He met the glowing red eyes of each of his officers. “Once this begins, events will unfold quickly. We’ll need to take out the Imperial Director and gain control of each office immediately.”

  “We’re ready to act,” Komatra assured him.

  Tek nodded. “We must force his hand—to take me out preemptively. Once he thinks I am subdued, Komatra, Gerek, and Iko, will enter the Imperial Director’s office with Haersen. I’ll follow once the path is cleared. The rest of you will need to secure the military command complex.”

  “What do we do with anyone who resists?” Colonel Takara questioned.

  “Eliminate them,” Tek replied without hesitation.

  “It’s a large complex to take with only four of us,” Dekon ventured.

  “We have made preparations in advance,” Tek said. “We have found that others are receptive to a leadership change.”

  The officers murmured their understanding.

  “Now,” Tek turned to Haersen, “let’s knock on the Imperial Director’s door.”

  Haersen took a deep breath and pulled out his handheld. He sent a simple message to the Imperial Director’s personal account—an address supplied by Tek in one of their preparation meetings over recent months: “Sir, Tek is making his move.”

  “Done,” Haersen reported when the message was sent. He returned the handheld to his pocket.

  Tek smiled. “That should spur him to action.”

  It was unsettling to think about soldiers coming to eliminate Tek, but everyone in the room was prepared to defend their new leader. There was no way the Imperial Director could anticipate so many co-conspirators—the officers could deal with anything sent their way.

  The entire point of the plan was for the Imperial Director to think Tek’s betrayal was isolated—that he could get ahead of the situation. Since the Imperial Director hadn’t previously taken action, perhaps he had maintained hopes that Tek would change his ways. After all, the Bakzen had made a significant investment in Tek and it would be a shame to throw that all away. But, respect for Bakzen leadership was paramount from the administrative office’s viewpoint. Unfortunately, military control was the way of the future.

  Haersen stood in silence along with the officers. They were pressed along the side of the room and the wall shared with the door, out of immediate sight from anyone entering the room. Tek paced by his desk in anticipation.

  Half an hour passed with no conversation or communication from the administrative office.

  “Will they come, sir?” Haersen finally asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.

  Tek crossed his arms. “I’m surprised they aren’t here already.”

  No sooner had he spoken then the door burst open. Half a dozen guards poured in, aiming pulse rifles at Tek.

  “On your knees!” one exclaimed.

  The Bakzen officers leaped into action, securing the guards in telekinetic shackles. The guards hung suspended in midair at the center of the room.

  Tek approached the helpless soldiers, looking each in the eyes as he walked down the line. “You have a choice to make now. Join me or die.”

  “We’re here on orders from the Imperial Director,” one soldier stammered.

  “He won’t hold that position for much longer. Will you die for him, or be a part of the future?” Tek asked.

  “I’ll join you,” another guard said.

  “But our orders!” one of the other guards protested.

  Tek snapped the neck of the protester, startling the others to silence.

  “Have you succeeded in your mission of eliminating me?” Tek asked the first guard who’d spoken.

  He paused for a moment. “Yes, sir.”

  Haersen felt Tek assessing the guard’s mind—judging if he was telling the truth. He pulled back, seemingly satisfied.

  “Make your report to the Imperial Director
,” Tek ordered.

  The soldier nodded. The Bakzen officers released the telekinetic holds on him enough for the soldier to retrieve his handheld from a pocket on the front of his jumpsuit. “Sir, this is Karn reporting in,” he said into the device.

  “Is it done?” the Imperial Director asked.

  “Tek is dead, sir,” the soldier reported.

  “Was there anyone with him?” the Imperial Director asked.

  “No, sir, he was alone.”

  “Good. Incinerate his body,” the Imperial Director instructed. “I will handle the communication to his former officers.” The call ended.

  “Now to pledge your loyalty to the Imperial Director,” Tek instructed Komatra, Gerek, and Iko. “He won’t be able to read all of you at the same time. Once he begins to evaluate the first, the rest of you must subdue him. Go now. I’ll come as soon as you’re in position.”

  Komatra beckoned for Haersen to follow. The four men rushed to the central elevator and descended to the maglev station.

  They entered one of the cars headed to the administrative complex.

  “You’ll need to pose as a prisoner,” Komatra told Haersen as soon as the door closed. “You’re known as Tek’s advisor. Even though you alerted the Imperial Director to Tek’s supposed plan, none of us should trust you, because of your association with him.”

  “I’ll do anything you need of me,” Haersen replied. He was far too invested to offer any resistance. After how quickly others had been dispatched, he didn’t want to take any chances.

  They rode in silence for the remainder of the transport to the administrative building. It’s gleaming light-gray walls were cast in red from the setting sunlight—a fitting image for the events about to transpire.

  The officers formed a triangle around Haersen, with Komatra in front and Gerek and Iko walking abreast behind.

  Komatra led the way to the front desk and scanned his ID chip on the reader. His clearance was unquestioned and required no explanation for entering the lower levels of the building.

  They set a straight course to the elevator. Komatra selected the tenth—and top—floor of the building. The reader turned yellow, indicating conditional clearance. “I’ll lead,” he told the others.

  When the elevator doors opened at their destination, Komatra strode toward the secondary security checkpoint. “We’re here to see the Imperial Director.”