by Daniel Gibbs
"Ah, Captain Henry." Duarte Vitorino rose from the recliner. "And Miss Karla Lupa. How marvelous to see you."
2
With a glance, Miri noted Henry was a little relieved to see his employer alive. She took in the sight of the Lusitanian Trade Minister herself. The detail that leapt to her attention was not his expensive house robe and pants, but the bandaging around the crown of his head. "I see you survived the bombing," Henry said, looking at the bandaging as well. "I'm pleased to hear it."
"I'm gratified to hear so, Captain," Vitorino said. "It was a stroke of luck. The bomb meant for the address podium fizzled. I got away with a blow to the head. My fellow ministers were not so lucky."
Miri noted that wording. "Then you are the only surviving member of the Cabinet," she said.
Vitorino nodded. "I am, Miss Lupa. There’s only about a hundred surviving Assembly members out of six hundred and twenty, and many of them are gravely wounded. This means no quorum until we can hold new elections, and even a snap election will take time. We won't be having a proper Cabinet assembled for some time. The President has seen fit to appoint me as the government's caretaker Prime Minister until elections can be held." He walked up to her and offered his hand. "You’re the survivor from the Kensington Star. A pleasure. We've been wondering about these disappearances for quite some time."
"Then you need wonder no further," Miri said, staring at him directly in the eyes. "I will testify as to what I saw. It was a cruiser of the League of Sol that took my ship and my fellow crew. I have a history with the League, so I spaced myself in the slim hope of rescue. Otherwise, they would have spaced me anyway, without a suit."
"Ah." Vitorino nodded. "We'll record your full statement momentarily. As this is state business, I don't want to keep Captain Henry any longer. I've heard his ship needs repairs."
"It does," Henry said, observing Vitorino’s response.
Vitorino walked over and retrieved the digital reader he'd been using earlier. He tapped at the display. Henry's commlink chimed, and he gave it a once over. Miri noticed a faint smile cross Henry's face while he touched the acceptance of the transfer. "Very generous of you."
"It’s what I promised, and what the late Cristina Caetano offered on top." Vitorino chuckled, even as Henry showed no strong reaction to what he said. "Yes, Captain, I'm well aware of what she did. Hiring you by threatening the Reverend Rothbard and his brother, your friend Felix. I assure you that I've already ordered the surveillance of his mission ended. Your old friend is free to minister to his flock among my people." He reached to the table and picked up a glass with something dark red in it, likely wine. He took a slow drink from it. "I’m even considering making a contribution from my personal funds to the Faith Outreach Mission. A gesture to show the people my faith in Reverend Rothbard's non-political nature."
Henry put his commlink away. "Thanks. I'm sure Jules will appreciate it. Is there anything else?"
"Nothing, Captain," Vitorino said. "I hear you have repair work to continue, and now you have the funds to see it through. I'll let you know if I have any jobs for you soon. Since your ship cannot leave until the lockdown is over, I encourage you and your crew to take the time to relax."
"I'll take that under advisement," Henry replied. "We've had quite a lot of trouble since leaving Harron."
Vitorino responded to his remark with a knowing nod. As Henry turned to go, Miri put a hand on his arm. "Thank you for saving me on Harron, Captain, and for seeing me through harm's way to safety." She smiled gently for his benefit. "And while I know it's a sore spot for you, well, as I hear the CDF tradition goes… Godspeed, Captain Henry. Godspeed to you and the others."
Henry's expression froze for a moment, and his eyes fell. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Right. It's a sore spot, but I'll take that in the spirit offered. Godspeed, ma'am." With that, he walked out of the room. One of the guards closed it from behind.
"Please, sit," said Vitorino, gesturing towards a chair. "Mister Carvalho will get us a state-encrypted recorder, and then we will get to work."
Henry walked out of the Royal Lusitanian, not sure how he should feel. It was, to put it simply, annoying.
By all rights, he should be ecstatic. Vitorino's payment, in the end, exceeded ten million escudos worth of Interstellar Bank credits. He'd wiped out all of the job's losses in costs so far and gave Henry an operational reserve that would cover the remaining repairs, give everyone a couple of months’ worth of pay, and provide Henry a cushion until this damn lockdown ended. In every way, Vitorino exceeded expectations as an employer.
Why, then, did Henry feel these doubts? This sour taste on the whole thing?
Because it means he's buying me, Henry pondered. Has bought me. I'm so grateful right now that I don't care he's become the leader of his planet through a lot of bloodshed and one hell of a lucky break. Maybe too lucky.
It was not a thought Henry wanted to have. Vitorino never struck him as the type to seek political power. He enjoyed wealth and business too much for the nitty-gritty of interstellar power politics, which Lusitania's relative wealth and position in the Trifid Region made necessary. It would interfere with his life of luxury.
But yet, it still seemed too convenient.
After recovering his pistol from the security woman at the door, Henry left the parking area of the hotel's front side and stepped onto the sidewalk lining this section of the Rua de Republica. The traffic was still light. It would probably be some time before a taxi came by on its own. Henry decided to call one up and pulled out his commlink. Its screen lit up a moment before he could use it himself. It was Felix's comm code showing. He hit the accept button on the screen and put the speaker by his ear. "Henry here."
"Hey, Jim. I just got a call from Jules. He says the creepy surveillance car pulled away from the mission barely half an hour ago. Now there's a government report on the local net clearing his mission of intelligence links."
"The deal's done, then," Henry said. Despite his best effort, he couldn't give his voice the full relief he felt it should have. If anything, he knew he sounded uncertain.
Felix, predictably, picked up on that. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just feeling paranoid," Henry said. "What's our status on the repairs?"
"Pieter's already left with Tia and Samina to pick things up from the spaceport suppliers. I'm hoping our budget can take the hit for all the fuses and wiring he says we need to repair from that EMP. Honestly, I'm not sure about taking the kid with them. She's still getting her legs for terra firma."
"It's good experience," Henry said. "Anyway, I'll be on my way back shortly. Just have to get a ride. Not a lot of traffic out today."
"Alright. I'm going to order us some deliveries myself. And since we're planetbound until the lockdown's over, I'm getting real beer this time."
Henry chuckled. "I guess I can drink to that. Talk to you later." He ended the call and started checking for a taxi service. His usual picks weren’t available, and the helicar services were grounded until further notice, so he finally went for the one that seemed to be closest. The service's systems confirmed his call and informed him the vehicle was on the way.
It wasn't hard to spot the blue-liveried taxi anti-grav car as it came down the road, anti-gravs whirring away. It pulled up to the curb, and the rear door opened. Henry slid into the seat and reached for the harness.
"So you are the captain of the Shadow Wolf," a voice said beside him.
Startled, Henry turned toward his fellow passenger. His surprise turned to cold fear at the barrel of the pulse gun pointed at his chest.
The gunman was in uniform, one that Henry had only seen a few times. A small, sinister smile crossed his face. "We have not met," the man said in accented English. "I am Commander Chantavit Li."
"League External Security," Henry said. "Let me guess, you're the League's top intel guy on-world, huh?"
"I am. You should feel gratified that I decided to handle this personally," Li said. "But you hav
e become quite the annoyance, Captain Henry, and a message must be sent."
Fear started to turn into panic. Henry fought to keep it down. "I'm guessing it's the kind of message where my body's found in the river?"
Li laughed. "Oh, it's gone far beyond that, Captain, quite far beyond that." He frowned deeply. "Your entire crew has crossed the will of Society, and for that, we're going to kill every single one of you."
Miri was quiet as Carvalho set up the state recorder. It looked like any normal market holo-recorder, but on it would be the markings to say it was a dedicated model that made specialized encrypted recordings. This encryption was a sort of signature, informing anyone who cared to look that the contents were authentic and not a fabrication.
"I would offer you a glass," Vitorino said as he poured himself more wine. "If not for obvious reasons."
"I understand," Miri said quietly. She looked to the recorder. "I am ready."
"As are we," Carvalho said. "What is your name?"
"Karla Lupa," said Miri. "I was—am, a hand on the vessel Kensington Star out of New Cornwall, belonging to Patterson & Yarborough Shipping."
"Your ship disappeared," Carvalho said. "What has happened to it?"
"It was attacked by a Rand-class cruiser of the League of Sol. It employed some form of EMP weapon."
At that point, Miri discussed her escape and rescue by the Tokarevs, then her experience on Harron. She spoke carefully and with a deliberate monotone. It made her sound almost robotic.
"And how did you get here today?"
Miri adopted the same tone and used precise wording, covering in brief her trip aboard the Shadow Wolf. As she spoke, she noted Vitorino's quiet interest, the way he drank his wine, and how his eyes appeared almost glazed over.
When she was done, Carvalho glanced his boss. There was a slight frustration in his eyes, but he said nothing. When Vitorino nodded once, as if uncaring, Carvalho said, "We will need more."
"What do you need?" Miri inquired, keeping her tone level.
"I suppose we can start with explaining why you spaced yourself," Carvalho said. "It sounds reckless, even suicidal, unless you had an expectation of rescue."
"I did not." Miri watched the look in Carvalho's eyes intensify at her monotone reply. "Before we continue, may I ask something?"
Carvalho again consulted Vitorino with a look. There was a glint of something like amusement in the Prime Minister's eye, so he turned his head back to Miri. "You may."
"Thank you." Miri glanced at Vitorino. This time, her voice was not monotone but pure ice. "Prime Minister, just what deal did you make with the League of Sol to take over Lusitania?"
Carvalho's eyes widened at Miri's words. Indeed, they seemed almost panicked as he looked to Vitorino again.
Vitorino's response was to take another drink of wine quietly. He spent several seconds savoring it while Miri watched, her eyes intent on him. He swallowed and smiled at her while setting his wine glass down on the crystal table. "I can't say I'm surprised, Miss Gaon," he said, his English accented and smooth. "You live up to your reputation as the brilliant operative who saved the Coalition." He snapped his fingers, and his bodyguards all drew and leveled weapons at Miri. "It’s rather clear you didn't trust my recorder."
"It is not hard to fake an encrypted recorder," Miri replied, returning to the dull monotone while her eyes moved around to take in the bodyguards threatening her. She fought down her fear at the genuine likelihood she was going to be spaced by the League after all. "But you cannot make a convincing fake without an accurate and extensive voice sample."
"Indeed not. Mister Carvalho, you may as well put it away for now. I'm sure Commander Li will be able to get the sample we need."
Carvalho reached up and switched off the machine. He glared at Miri while he started folding up its legs.
Miri finished a visual sweep of the room before turning her attention to Vitorino again. "Whatever they've promised you, they'll never let you stay in power," she said, suspecting it would be for naught anyway. "You're not a devotee of Society. You're the very incarnation of the kind of person they hate. They're only using you and will shoot you at the earliest opportunity."
Vitorino folded his hands in his lap. "Of course, Miss Gaon. I'm not blind to them. But at the same time, I'm not blind to the challenge they face." He retrieved his wine glass and drank from it. "You and I share that. A certain perceptiveness. I admit I underestimated yours a little. I'm guessing my inability to turn down my fine port hinted at my lack of a head wound?"
"It did, but your condition helped." Miri didn't dare move. The slightest movement and Vitorino's people would gun her down without a qualm. "You don't have any signs of severe head injuries that would demand a bandage still be on your head this long after the bombing. The ship disappearances, the timing of the attack, and your miraculous survival hinted to a larger design. I doubt there was ever a bomb where you stood. More likely a portable forcefield generator. They're not feasible for constant use, but you can have one active for several seconds if you're planning to survive a terrible incident, like, say, a bombing."
"Mostly correct," Vitorino said. "In truth, it wasn't my plan. Just so we're being honest. I hijacked it for my own purposes. As I said, we're both rather perceptive." He took another drink of wine. "Would you like some?" he asked. "I won't have it said I denied a condemned person a chance to enjoy at least one fine luxury before her end."
"I stay away from alcohol," Miri answered.
"Ah, yes, I suppose you would, given your occupation."
With complete self-honesty, Miri replied, "No, it's because I might want it too much."
Vitorino chuckled. "That is what I meant, Traitor of Lowery. They still call you that name there, don't they? You enabled their liberation, and half the planet still hates you."
"I caused the deaths of some of their loved ones. Others were taken away to the Orion Arm and never seen again." Miri tried to keep the pain from her face. "Their hatred is earned."
"So it is. Well, if you don't want to indulge, I won't force the issue," he said, as if he were a congenial host and not her captor. "As I was saying, I'm well aware the League won't keep me around if they can get rid of me. I doubt Commander Li realizes I know this, but Hartford might."
"Hartford?" The name blazed through Miri's mind. "Admiral Hartford?"
"He’s the one. The man whose grand plan to seize New Arabia and break the Coalition's morale failed, all because you warned the CDF where and when the attack was coming," Vitorino said. "He has another plan in mind, but like all of his kind, he grossly underestimates the Coalition's people." Vitorino took another drink. "Oh, he's not wrong about the outcome. The Coalition is going to lose the war in due time, Miss Gaon. For all of your bravery and technological skill, the League's too big. It has too many people, too many resources. It'll defeat you in the end. What they don't realize is how hollow their victory will be." He chuckled. "They think that as soon as your government surrenders, the resistance to their forces will cease. That your populations will give up, report to the Socialization camps, and accept the Society as their future. They don't understand your belief in your freedoms, your ways of life and religions. The Coalition will lose, and maybe after a few decades or a century, your worlds will be so broken by the occupations, you'll give up. But the League will take even longer to find the strength to fight the rest of us."
Miri nodded. "You intend to use the fall of the Coalition to rally the neutral worlds against the League."
"With the Saurians too. Assuming they don't enter the war at some point and prolong it even further," Vitorino replied. "You should feel happy, though. Your worlds may fall, and your Coalition may collapse, but the League will choke on you. In the end, they may even have to withdraw from Sagittarius." He took yet another sip. "After our lifetimes, that is. Especially yours."
There was a knock on the door. Moments later, it was opened by Vitorino's people on the outside. More armed figures arrived, four in
all. While their weapons and uniforms were Lusitanian Security, the way they carried themselves gave them away to Miri.
"Ah, my good friends from the League," said Vitorino. He gestured toward Miri with his free hand. "Gentlemen and lady, may I present Miriam Gaon. My gift to your Commander Li and Admiral Hartford. Please let the Commander know we still need a viable voice sample for the recording."
"Understood, Prime Minister," one of the men said, his English sounding vaguely Australian to Miri's ears. He gestured to his people. Two stepped forward. Under their guns and those of Vitorino's soldiers, Miri had no opening to resist as they forced her arms behind her back and bound her wrists with a tie strap.
"Aren't you worried I'll share our conversation with them?" Miri asked Vitorino directly.
He shrugged. "Go ahead. You're the Traitor of Lowery, who tricked the League's Resocialization Bureau into thinking you were properly Socialized. I doubt they'll think much of your attempts to split us." He took another drink of wine and glanced away, signaling their conversation was at an end.
The League operatives each took Miri by one arm and led her out of the room.
3
Henry's eyes moved up and down, from the barrel of the gun to Li's face. His eyes burned with zealous anger. This guy's a true believer, Henry thought to himself. More than the Third Class Inspector back on New Hathwell. He recognized that he was alive only because Li had a bigger plan in store. It gave him time. "It was just a job," Henry said. "We were hired to get our passenger back to Lusitania."
"Do you believe that matters?" Li shook his head once. "You would. It's typical of your people. You're all short-sighted, arrogant, and foolish. You don't grasp anything beyond your immediate wants."
"So we were just supposed to surrender?" Henry asked. "Just like that?"