“Welcome onboard,” Colin said, once the newcomers had sat down and the Marines had withdrawn. “I trust you’ll understand if we choose to forgo protocol for diplomatic meetings. It has been so long since they were actually necessary that we were unable to discover what the protocol actually was.”
Gwendolyn gave him a smile that was surprisingly sweet. “I quite understand,” she agreed, warmly. “Protocols have been out of date for centuries.”
Colin fought down the urge to snort rudely. The Empire’s idea of diplomacy boiled down to pointing a gun at someone who had something the Empire wanted and ordering them to hand it over – or else. And there had never been any hesitation about applying the stick if the carrot failed, assuming there was a carrot. There had been no attempt to bargain with Jackson’s Folly and her daughter worlds, even though it would have cost the Empire nothing to try to dicker. The Thousand Families had once owned the biggest stick in the known universe. Applying it had become second nature.
He studied Gwendolyn for a long moment, then smiled. “Let's be blunt,” he said. “Why are you here?”
Gwendolyn placed her fingertips together and leaned forward, calling attention to her cleavage. “My family feels that we should attempt to open lines of communication,” she said. “There may be grounds for a mutually acceptable compromise.”
Colin lifted his eyebrows, deliberately exaggerating the gesture. “Our objective is to replace or reform the Empire,” he said. “That would include splitting up the Thousand Families into more manageable entities, at the very least, and removing all the laws they created to boost their own position at everyone else’s expense. I confess I have no idea what your family would consider a mutually acceptable compromise. Our goals are in complete opposition to yours.”
“Thank you for being blunt,” Gwendolyn said. She gave him a charming smile. “You must realise that destroying something the size of the Empire will be difficult. I do not believe that you have a significant advantage in firepower, even if you do have the assistance of the Geeks and Nerds. The further you move from your bases, the harder it will be to support your offensive.”
She was right, Colin knew, although they’d raided enemy bases for supplies. Tyson alone had given them enough missiles and spare parts to keep the offensive going for months, unless missile expenditures skyrocketed. Which might well happen, he had to admit. The closer they got to Earth, the more heavily defended worlds they would have to reduce or occupy. It was quite possible that the offensive would grind to a halt just short of Earth.
“You might be surprised,” he said, instead. He schooled his expression to remain calm, wondering just how good she was at reading people. It was possible that she had more experience than a standard intelligence officer. The Thousand Families could afford the best training for their children. “But what is your point?”
“Either way, a long war would be utterly devastating and whoever won would have to spend years picking up the pieces,” Gwendolyn said. “Economic ties would shatter, planets would starve ... I believe you know the possible consequences. And the aliens would take advantage of our distraction to attempt to turn on us ...”
This time, Colin snorted out loud. There were ten intelligent races known to exist, apart from humanity, and nine of them were effectively helpless, kept under such firm control that they couldn't even build anything more dangerous than a steam engine. The tenth race had vanished long ago and no one had seen a trace of them since then. Unless there was another race out in the Beyond with an Empire that matched humanity’s – and he doubted it, because the Empire wouldn't have hesitated to brand them a threat if they existed – aliens were no threat to humanity.
And humanity had exterminated two intelligent races ...
“I think we both know that the aliens are in no position to turn on us,” he said, finally. “It is far more likely that they will be exterminated in the crossfire.”
Gwendolyn didn't show any overt response to his rudeness. “The costs in both financial and personnel terms of a long war will be devastating,” she said. “I believe we can agree on that point, can't we?”
“Perhaps,” Daria said. She leaned forward, crossing her arms under her ample breasts. “But the costs of allowing the Empire to exist are also devastating.”
“We don’t doubt that you feel that way,” Gwendolyn said. “However, you must ask yourself if it is really worth the cost of bringing us down if you bring yourself down at the same time.”
Colin tapped the table. “I confess that verbal fighting doesn't interest me nearly as much as starship combat,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “We will provisionally concede your point.”
Gwendolyn smiled, brilliantly. “Then you will hear us out?”
“Get to the point,” Colin growled. “What are you offering us?”
“We would be prepared to listen to your concerns,” Gwendolyn said. “And we would handle them ...”
Colin laughed, humourlessly. “And you’d like us to surrender our ships on your word alone?”
“There are reforms we could make,” Gwendolyn pointed out. “Reforms that would eliminate the need for a revolution ...”
“But you would be asking us to trust that you would make those reforms,” Colin countered, sardonically. “Do you expect us to just trust you?”
“Not particularly,” Gwendolyn said. She shrugged, her face suddenly serious. “Right now, the Thousand Families are the glue that holds the Empire together. We control almost all of the Empire’s industry, much of the Imperial Navy and employ a very large percentage of the population. There are so many people under our control that even we couldn't tell you just how many work for us, directly or indirectly. That is the truth of the edifice we have built up over a thousand years.”
Colin nodded, impatiently. “I know,” he said. “The point is certainly repeated often enough, isn't it?”
Gwendolyn met his eyes. “Let us assume that you succeed,” she said. “The Thousand Families are shattered. What happens to the billions upon billions of people who work for us, directly or indirectly, if you bring that mighty edifice tumbling down?”
Daria coughed. “What happens to the billions upon billions of your victims if the edifice is left in place?”
Gwendolyn ignored her, focusing her attention on Colin. “We can reform the system, slowly and gently,” she said. “That will not bring it falling down, thus avoiding billions of people being thrown out of work and left to starve. But if you destroy the system ...”
“People will suffer,” Colin snapped. “We get the point.”
He stared at Gwendolyn, daring her to look away. “What do you have to offer us?”
“We don’t yet know who will win,” Gwendolyn said. She didn't look away; instead, she met his eyes evenly. “But we know that you might attain a decisive advantage. In that case, we would like to propose a compromise. We will surrender political power in exchange for being allowed to retain our economic power. It will give us time to adapt to the reshaped universe without tossing billions of people onto the streets.”
“Interesting,” Colin observed, finally. “And this is an offer from all of the Thousand Families or just yours?”
“Ours, for the moment,” Gwendolyn said. “We believe that the others would consider the compromise if the alternative was certain destruction.”
Daria smirked. “And what is to stop us sharing the recording of this meeting with the rest of the aristocracy?”
“Why, nothing,” Gwendolyn said. “Except, of course, there will be no further talks. Either you lose, because you were too stubbornly prideful to talk and compromise, or you win and the Empire shatters, forcing you to put it back together. And you know the consequences of that will be, at the very least, an interstellar dark age. Will you be able to hold even the Core Worlds together if the Thousand Families are gone?”
“I see,” Colin said. “You are here, then, not to open talks, but to discuss the possibility of talks. Talks based on u
s winning or losing or gaining a decisive advantage.”
“Essentially,” Gwendolyn said. “The Thousand Families will not talk to you, let alone compromise, until they are convinced that further fighting would be pointless.”
Colin rubbed his forehead, again. “And what,” he asked, “is to stop us from turning on them later?”
“We have no idea how you plan to reform the economic sphere,” Gwendolyn said. “The propaganda we picked up from the underground before we left Earth was very much a mixed bag. But we know it will take years for the economy to adjust to the chance, let alone allow competitors to rise up and threaten us. You can surrender your starships, but we cannot surrender our control over the economic levers of power.”
“We could simply take your industrial nodes,” Daria pointed out. “What’s to stop us from doing that, My Lady?”
Gwendolyn didn't show any reaction to Daria’s tone. “The Empire’s economy depends on thousands of pieces functioning smoothly together,” she said, simply. “Yes, you could seize control of a handful of industrial nodes. You still wouldn't be able to run them without rebuilding the entire network from scratch. Even convincing people that they couldn't trust you to respect private property would do considerable damage. It will take you years to replace the system, by which time we will have adapted – or died out.”
Colin gave her a long considering look. “You believe your people will die out?”
“I believe that the Thousand Families will have to adapt,” Gwendolyn said. “If specific families fail, they will be replaced by their competitors and vanish into nothingness.”
“Thank you for coming,” Colin said, dryly. He wasn't sure if he was sincere or not. “You two will be granted private quarters, but you will be under restriction. Should you cause any trouble, you will both go out the airlock.”
He called for the Marines, who took the two ambassadors away.
“Well,” Daria said, once the hatch had closed. “That was interesting.”
“Very interesting,” Colin agreed. “I wish Hester was here. She could do a better job of sorting out what they told us.”
He looked down at the desk, thinking hard. If Gwendolyn and Pompey were to be trusted – although Pompey hadn't said a word – there were already cracks appearing in the Empire’s united front. Who knew how best it could be exploited? But, at the same time, they would have to be careful. Gwendolyn was clearly far more experienced in deceit than Colin himself.
“True,” Daria agreed. She smiled, but there was no real humour in the expression. “We’ll have to be careful they don’t talk us into signing the future over to them.”
Chapter Nineteen
“We are facing a planned sabotage campaign,” Colonel Gordon said. He was a Rothschild client, but he had enough sense to realise that now wasn't the time to promote his patron’s interests. “All signs point to a large group – and probably one linked to the underground.”
Tiberius carefully kept his expression under control. He’d concluded that weeks ago, after his security officers had finally tracked down the person responsible for the chaos virus and interrogated her thoroughly. It was unlikely in the extreme that rebels from the edge of the Empire could have set up operations on Luna so quickly unless they’d had help from the Luna Underground. They’d managed to kidnap children just to force someone into helping them, for crying out loud! They could only have done that with help.
But the chaos attack hadn't been the only burst of sabotage. Several other computer cores had been infected with chaos viruses, a number of processors had been reprogrammed to pass imperfect starship components while rejecting perfectly good ones and two Blackshirt training camps had been sent poison instead of conditioning drugs. Thousands of young men were now dead, setting the entire program back weeks if not months. No, the underground was getting bolder – and pushing the limits as far as they would go. He wouldn't be surprised to discover that they already had operatives on dozens of starships and orbital platforms.
“So we act,” Lord Bernadotte snapped. “Send down the Blackshirts and flush the damn bastards out. God knows we cannot allow this to continue.”
Tiberius had to admit he was right. Home Fleet was in a poor condition, even without active sabotage. If there were more life support failures, crewmen would start deserting in droves –or contemplating mutiny. The life expectancy of a starship that mutinied in Earth orbit would be very low, but it would be able to do considerable damage to the planet before it was destroyed. Who knew what would happen if someone sabotaged other parts of the defences?
“The underground is very good at hiding,” Lord Rothschild countered. “The effort might be futile.”
“Then have the crews switched around,” Tiberius snapped. “While we’re at it, we might want to provide additional security for our employees. They can be threatened into working for the underground even if they’re not inclined to turn on us.”
He'd forced himself to watch Marian Fairchild’s entire interrogation, from beginning to end, even though he’d thrown up twice. Imperial Intelligence had not been gentle; they’d beaten her, inserted torture implants into her skull and even threatened her children in front of her eyes. But, in the end, they’d discovered that the children had been kidnapped ... and that the kidnappers were long gone. By the time the security forces had started to sweep the Luna warrens, it was too late even to identify them. He'd signed the execution order knowing that Marian had been forced to serve the underground. But there had been no choice. An example had to be made.
It had taken weeks to flush out the chaos virus – or, for that matter, the virus that had somehow made its way into Public Information’s computers. Before anyone knew what had happened, an underground-produced report had been uploaded into the datanet and distributed to everyone in the Sol System. The code had ensured that billions of people had seen the report before it had been wiped from the system. And the report claimed that the Thousand Families were on the brink of losing control of the Empire.
The only upside is that we weren't the only ones hit, he thought. The Cicero Family wouldn't be blamed for being careless if all of the families had been targeted. But we’re no closer to actually winning the war.
He glanced down at the latest report from Morrison as Lord Bernadotte and Lord Rothschild resumed their argument, the other Family Heads lining up on one side or the other. Admiral Wachter was still making enemies, but thankfully the sabotage campaign had distracted the Families Council from considering the matter. The Admiral was optimistic about their chances when the rebels finally attacked; Tiberius could only hope he was right.
The argument seemed to be winding down, so he took a chance and jumped in. “We need to finally appoint someone to command Home Fleet,” he said. “I believe that Lord Rothschild has a proposal.”
Lord Rothschild tossed him an inscrutable look, then nodded. “Admiral Foster would appear to be our best bet,” he said. “He has ties to the Thousand Families, but never showed interest in anything more than squadron command up until his retirement. While Home Fleet is larger than anything he has commanded prior to retirement, I believe he would meet all three of our requirements.”
Tiberius concealed his amusement. It said a great deal about the Empire that only one of the requirements involved actually defeating the rebels. The Families Council was more worried about not upsetting the balance of power and not accidentally creating a second Empress, someone who used Home Fleet to take control of the Empire. But then, Admiral Foster would not command Earth’s fixed or orbital defences. If he did turn on the Empire, he couldn’t win before the spies on his ship killed him. Or so they hoped.
There was another long debate, but no one seemed to want to prolong the argument long enough to make it go away. Instead, Admiral Foster was formally recalled from retirement and assigned to command Home Fleet. Tiberius hoped – prayed – that they’d finally broken the logjam in time to prepare Home Fleet for battle, then tried to tune out as much o
f the ensuring debate as possible. His father had once told him that the Families Council was only allowed to make one resolution per day. Tiberius knew that wasn't actually true, but it might as well have been.
Afterwards, he disconnected from the network and walked back into his office. Sharon was waiting for him, along with two officers from the personnel department. Tiberius took his chair, then turned to face them. They promptly bowed deeply, then relaxed.
“I don’t have much time,” Tiberius said. It was a lie, but lower-ranking officers – particularly ones with only weak family ties – were prone to going on and on, trying to exaggerate their own importance. “Have you completed the moves?”
“Yes, sir,” the senior officer said. “Everyone with a family has had the family moved to a secure complex, guarded by Household Troops. The facilities are being improved even as we speak, but the costs ...”
“Fuck the costs,” Tiberius snapped. One chaos virus attack, launched by someone whose children had been at risk, had cost trillions of credits and a number of lives. If they’d missed one fragment of the virus, just one, it might reform and start infecting computer cores again. “I want everyone to know that their families are safe!”
“Yes, sir,” the senior officer said.
Tiberius understood his surprise. The Thousand Families had never been good at caring for their workers, apart from the handful who showed enough promise to be brought into the Families – and that had grown rarer and rarer as the Thousand Families solidified their grip on power. But now the underground was using that weakness against them. A person who might have been so completely loyal that they’d passed countless security checks could be turned in an instant, if their families were harmed. It was worth some expense to ensure that the families were protected.
Democracy's Right: Book 02 - Democracy's Might Page 18