Enemy in the Dark

by Jay Allan

  “Yes, Hiltes, we are ready.” Past ready . . . if I had to listen to that insipid fool for another minute, I would have lost my mind.

  “You may proceed.” Bartholomew nodded.

  Hiltes pulled a small control pad from his pocket and pressed a button. He held the tablet so they could both see the screen.

  For a few seconds, the lords inside the shelter looked the same as they had when Bartholomew had left them moments before. Then they started moving around quickly, panicking, grasping at their throats, at their faces.

  The shelter wasn’t wired for sound, so Bartholomew had to imagine the screams, the cries of terror as the Rykaran nobles realized what was happening. One by one they dropped to the ground, some of them twitching for a few more seconds before they fell motionless. It was over in less than a minute. Every one of Rykara’s former lords was dead, along with their families and senior advisers. Bartholomew had completed his mission, and now he was cleaning up.

  “Clear out the gas, and get a crew in there as soon as possible. I want those bodies gone, disintegrated, and that entire chamber dismantled without a trace. And retrieve the chests of money. Leave nothing for Lucerne’s people to find, no trace at all of the Rykaran lords. Let the Celtiborians think the nobles escaped to the wilderness to continue the resistance.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, Hiltes?”

  “Sir?”

  “Get it all done today. I want to be off this shithole for good by tonight.”

  CHAPTER 8

  THE CITY OF CHARONEA WAS A HUGE METROPOLIS, THE LARGEST city in the Far Stars by a considerable margin. It had been founded on an island just off the coast of Antilles’s southern continent, but over ten centuries of continued growth it had sprawled onto the mainland, and now a series of bridges and transport tubes connected the two sections, and people and goods moved back and forth night and day over the two-kilometer-wide strait.

  Since its unification Celtiboria was widely regarded by most as the strongest of the Primes, and Marshal Lucerne’s veteran army inspired respect—and not a little fear—throughout the Far Stars. But Antilles was unquestionably the center of finance in the sector. Indeed, even the mighty Far Stars Bank had begun its long and storied existence as an Antillean institution, and it had been headquartered in Charonea for five centuries before it took control of Vanderon and made that planet its home.

  The Old City, as the island portion had come to be called, was home to the wealthiest residential sections as well as the financial center, the home of the Antilles Stock and Commodities Exchange, and the symbolic manifestation of Antillean industrial might.

  The middle and lower classes lived in the New City, stretching across two hundred square kilometers of coastal lowlands. Most of the industry was also located on the mainland, and seemingly endless rows of factories and assembly plants ringed the inland periphery. This center of industrial power was connected to the planet’s spaceport and other metropolitan areas by a series of high-speed rail lines, with trains running around the clock, carrying the lifeblood of the planet’s vibrant capitalism.

  In the center of the financial district, surrounded by the headquarters of the old merchant banking families, rose Lancaster Tower, a kilometer-tall behemoth, dwarfing everything around it. Its singularity and enormous scale communicated a stark reality: On a planet devoted to economic prosperity, in a city housing some of the richest and most profitable financial firms in the sector, all stood in the shadow of the legendary Lancaster Interests, an immense conglomerate, centuries old, whose tentacles extended through space to half the worlds of the Far Stars.

  Danellan Lancaster sat in his palatial office atop the tower that bore his family name. The eldest of the family’s main branch, Danellan was the patriarch of the Lancaster clan and the custodian of the massive family business. A hundred Lancasters—his wife and daughter and a vast array of siblings and cousins, nieces and nephews—relied on him to maintain the family’s almost incalculable wealth . . . and to ensure the continuation of their princely lifestyles.

  He’d had a son once, too, though he rarely allowed himself to think of his lost prodigy. Lucas had been his greatest disappointment, a defiant and rebellious child who’d shown no interest in accepting his responsibility for the family business, preferring instead to become a lowly pilot. And even that hadn’t been the final blow. No, Lucas Lancaster had been a reprobate and a hopeless drug addict, a self-destructive hell-raiser who’d managed to get himself thrown out of the Antilles Naval Academy, despite Danellan’s repeated interventions.

  The Lancaster patriarch had ultimately disowned his only son and banished him from the family home. He’d lost track of the boy shortly after, and he had assumed for years now that Lucas had managed to get himself killed, probably brawling in some dive bar or overdosing in a cheap hotel room somewhere.

  But this was no time to wallow in old pain and festering wounds. Not now, when he was planning a series of moves that would propel Lancaster Interests to a level of dominance his forefathers could have barely conceived. His alliance with Marshal Lucerne was designed to pave the way to complete economic supremacy in the Far Stars, exceeding even the power of the Far Stars Bank itself. He would allow nothing to distract him now.

  “I am concerned, Mr. Lancaster. Our new capital issues have been massively oversubscribed. We very carefully compiled projections on demand for the securities, but the actual transactions have exceeded these figures by more than 100 percent.”

  Silas Grosvenor was a cautious man by nature, a trait that befitted his position as Danellan Lancaster’s chief financial adviser. The Lancasters were enormously wealthy, and after eighteen generations, there was just one overriding purpose for the family: preserving—and expanding—that wealth. Silas adhered to this to the letter . . . too often with emphasis on preservation, and not as much on expanding.

  Much to Danellan’s consternation.

  “What has you worried, Silas? I know you tend to the paranoid, but you can’t possibly imagine anyone is making a move on us.”

  Lancaster sat behind his massive Tanglewood desk. The material alone had cost enough to pay a thousand laborers for a year. He’d had to hire a band of mercenaries to retrieve it from the swamps of Gessenia. The planet was one of the most primitive backwaters in the Far Stars, and the swamp dwellers prayed to the great trees, revering them as avatars of their gods. Lancaster’s thugs had been forced to shoot at least a dozen of them before they’d been able to cut down even a sapling. But the wood was among the greatest treasures in the sector, and Danellan Lancaster had decreed he would have it at whatever cost. And so he did.

  Just as I’ll have this deal.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Lancaster. There is something about it that is . . . unsettling. We have never misjudged the demand for an issue by such a wide margin. Indeed, we left considerable money on the table by not pricing the securities higher.”

  “Perhaps word leaked of our pending alliance with Celtiboria and their new confederation. Our . . . ah . . . development . . . of the worlds Marshal Lucerne is bringing into the confederation will be enormously profitable, beyond anything we have ever achieved. My position as head of economic development for the confederation will effectively cut out all competitors.”

  Danellan Lancaster had readily agreed to accept a post heading up the economic council of the Far Stars Confederation. He wasn’t so naive as to be convinced Lucerne had come to him for his economic prowess and not just to help deliver Antilles into the new entity. But whatever the reason, the posting would put him in an incomparable position to pillage the resources of the underdeveloped planets. By the time he’d brought their backward economies into the present, Lancaster Interests would be entrenched. He couldn’t even guess at the profits that would flow back to Charonea . . . which is not to say he hadn’t tried.

  “I do not doubt our potential profits, sir. However, I am also aware that the investment required to spur development on so many planets simulta
neously is almost incalculably large. Your decision to forgo the formation of a cartel and to finance the entire cost ourselves is compelling us to dilute our control over current Lancaster Interests. We will have a large number of new shareholders, and some of the existing ones will substantially enlarge their stakes.”

  “You fear a takeover attempt?” Lancaster’s voice was shrill, his tone displaying both surprise and incredulity. “Who could possibly finance such an enormous project? Who would dare move against us?”

  “The Far Stars Bank, for one.”

  “Are you serious, Silas? The bank directors have never made a hostile takeover of one of the bank’s customers in good standing. It would be a fatal move. No one would trust them. Their other business partners would run away as quickly as they could, throw their support behind any competitor. Besides, we own almost 10 percent of the bank. Do you imagine we could fail to discover such a plot? Or that Chairman Vargus wants me as an enemy?” There was a touch of darkness in his tone when he spoke the last sentence. He didn’t think for an instant Vargus was involved, but even the thought stirred his anger.

  “You are right, of course, sir. My point is simply that we cannot take for granted that we are too big to be vulnerable. Especially when we are about to become so extended. We may not be exposed to many entities individually, but our rivals could form a cartel, pool resources . . .” Grosvenor’s voice trailed off, and he paused. “But, of course, you are correct, sir. I am sure I am simply being paranoid.”

  The adviser exhaled softly and looked across the desk, at the sweeping view behind Lancaster, a panorama stretching across the small strait between the Old City and the mainland. There were more than a dozen bridges and tubes extending over the water, connecting the two halves of the city. The mainland waterfront was highly developed, a commercial zone beginning to rival the Old City itself, and beyond that, kilometers of homes and offices and factories. Past the city limits lay a vast rolling plain, rising slowly as far as the eye could see. But Grosvenor turned away, a deepening frown on his face.

  “But if it isn’t the bank . . . then who is bidding up our stock so aggressively?”

  Lancaster stared back at his aide. His arrogance made it difficult to even imagine that someone would dare to challenge the Lancasters. But the thought still nagged at him. Who was buying so much stock?

  “Did you obtain what I requested?” Sebastien Alois de Villeroi spoke softly, but his tone conveyed considerable menace nevertheless.

  Trayn Ballock stood in front of the imperial agent, calling on all his self-control to fight back his fear. Governor Vos had recruited Ballock personally, and he’d been a perfect gentleman in the process . . . at least initially. We just wish to establish friendly economic ties with the worlds of the Far Stars, he had said, and Ballock, dazzled by the rewards dangled in front of him, had believed it all.

  What a fool I was.

  Now he was inextricably involved in something far worse, though he still didn’t understand the scope of what was happening. He wanted out, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He doubted Vos would hesitate to have him killed if he moved from useful ally to dangerous loose end, and he was sure the psychopath in the room with him now would not only carry out that order—he would enjoy it.

  “Yes.” Ballock hesitated. The information he was about to provide was highly secret. If Chairman Vargas found out he had divulged it, he would be in deep trouble.

  “Well, give it to me. We don’t have time to waste on nonsense.”

  Ballock felt his stomach clench. Villeroi was not a patient man; that much was clear. The terrified banker understood the only thing keeping the imperial agent from roasting him over a spit was Vos’s protection. And the only way to keep that was to do whatever the imperial governor demanded.

  He’d thought about going to Vargus, telling him everything, and seeking his aid in escaping his situation. But he doubted the chairman, for all his power, could best Vos. The imperial governor was the smarter of the two. That much was obvious. And Vos had even greater resources at his disposal than the bank. The empire was vastly larger than the Far Stars, and it was far more developed. The Far Stars Bank was legendary for its reach and power in the sector, but it was nothing next to the might of the empire.

  No, he thought. Vargus is going to lose this struggle, whether I warn him or not. Besides, even if I’m wrong and the chairman can best Governor Vos, he’d never trust me again anyway. After he defeated Vos, he’d get rid of me too. Ballock knew a life as a penniless exile on some shithole like Kalishar or Ventos would be the best he could hope for. As for the worst, that was something he wasn’t ready to think about.

  He held out his hand. There was a small data crystal in his palm. “As Governor Vos requested, the complete shareholder list of the Far Stars Bank.”

  The bank was the largest and most important institution in the Far Stars, and the names of the individuals and firms that owned it had been a closely held secret for centuries. Holding a near monopoly on interplanetary trade finance, the bank was a natural target for terrorists and industrial combines alike, any of which might seek to influence the bank by threatening the shareholders who owned it.

  “Well done, Ballock.” Villeroi spat out the praise like he’d tasted something rotten. “I will have this data transmitted to Galvanus Prime at once.”

  And I’ve given Governor Vos what he needs to begin to accumulate a controlling interest in the Far Stars Bank.

  “I want to thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Mr. Lancaster. I am sure you are a very busy man.” Mak Wilhelm smiled and extended his hand.

  “Not at all, Lord Halford.” Danellan Lancaster returned the smile and gripped Wilhelm’s hand firmly. “It is my pleasure to meet with such an honored guest. Please, have a seat. May I offer you anything? Something to drink, perhaps? We on Antilles pride ourselves on producing the best wines and brandies in the Far Stars.”

  Wilhelm shook his head, allowing a slightly disdainful expression to briefly cross his face. “No, thank you, Mr. Lancaster.” He hadn’t done undercover work in a long time, but he was pleased to see his skills were still fresh. And any imperial lord visiting the Far Stars would surely look down on the sector’s vintages and delicacies. On the other side of the Void, the Far Stars was considered a barely civilized wasteland—certainly no place that would produce a brandy suitable for a lord of the empire.

  He moved toward the table and took the seat Lancaster had offered, remaining silent as his host sat on the other side of the table. He was focused, cautious. By all accounts, Danellan Lancaster was a man ruled by his greed, which sometimes overrode his judgment. But he wasn’t a fool, not by any means. If Wilhelm wasn’t careful, he might trigger undue suspicion.

  “I must say, I am intrigued. I am not often contacted by industrialists from the empire, Lord Halford.”

  Wilhelm’s face was impassive. You mean never, my pompous friend. No one in the empire even thinks about the Far Stars. No one but the emperor—and that is simply because your resistance offends him. Indeed, Wilhelm knew Lancaster would have been suspicious under normal circumstances. But Vos had arranged for Chairman Vargus of the Far Stars Bank to make the introduction. The tacit endorsement of the bank virtually eliminated suspicion. Vargus hadn’t asked any questions; he’d just agreed to Vos’s request. Of course, the imperial governor had just deposited ten billion crowns with the bank. Vargus probably harbored some old suspicions about the empire, but he was too rapacious a banker to risk his relationship with his newest and biggest depositor.

  “No, I would think not.” Again, Wilhelm allowed a hint of derision to slip into his tone. “I like to think Halford Transport is one of the more forward-thinking companies in the empire. When Governor Vos told us of his plans to establish trade agreements and move toward full diplomatic recognition, I immediately expressed an interest in participating. His plan to insure trans-Void shipping is nothing short of revolutionary, and I wanted to be part of it from the st
art.”

  Halford Transport was a real firm, and Lord Janus Halford was its chairman. Both were inventions of the imperial intelligence service, which controlled every aspect of the firm’s operations. Other than that, though, no one but Vos was aware of this duplicity at the moment.

  “I admire your boldness, Lord Halford. Indeed, Lancaster Interests will be at the forefront of establishing peaceful trade with the empire.”

  Wilhelm smiled. “I am thrilled to hear that, Mr. Lancaster.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Because I have a project in mind, and I believe Halford Transport needs a partner, one with far greater experience and presence in the Far Stars.”

  “What kind of partnership do you have in mind?”

  Was that suspicion in his tone? Go slowly . . .

  “Just as you plan on being at the forefront of normalizing relations, we plan to be at the forefront of trans-Void shipping. However, I’m afraid we have no experience with freight-hauling operations in the Far Stars. We have no landing rights on any worlds of the sector outside the imperial holding, nor any relationships with vendors and manufacturers.”

  Lancaster nodded. “It sounds like you need a shipping partner.” He paused. “Unfortunately, that is not one of Lancaster’s areas of business. I may be able to arrange some introductions, however, if . . .”

  “Indeed, Mr. Lancaster, it is precisely because your firm is not currently involved in transport that I chose you as my first contact.”

  Lancaster looked back across the table, clearly trying to hide a surprised look. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Lord Halford.”

  Wilhelm took a breath. “I am not looking for a transport relationship, Mr. Lancaster. We are already such a company. No, what I am seeking is a partner to acquire an existing shipping firm in the Far Stars, so we can eliminate the red tape and begin immediately. Such a venture would be an equal partnership, and it occurred to me this might be an attractive proposition for Lancaster, since you do not have a significant presence in that industry yet.” He paused for a few seconds. “You certainly realize how important shipping will become once relations are normalized. I assumed you would be planning your own entry, and I thought we might be able to work together.”