by Eric Thomson
“Please, help yourselves.”
When they’d done so, Morane took a sip of the rich brew before saying, “We’re all ears, Madame. Whatever caused you to invite us here at short notice without either Rorik Hecht or Gus Logran in attendance must be worrisome.”
“In fact, Rorik left me shortly before I called you. He came with advance notice of the Colonial Council’s upcoming vote on the constitutional framework it will present to the Estates General when they meet later this month. And since Rorik always gets what he wants, the outcome of the vote is a foregone conclusion, which would be fine if the framework more or less matched what we’ve been discussing. But we’re now facing something rather different.”
“Let me guess,” Reyes said with an impish smile. “Rorik wants to declare himself emperor and ascend the throne in a blaze of glory.”
“No. The Estates General don’t favor us becoming a monarchy. We’re to be a republic under a leader named by the legislature, as planned. But that’s where Rorik’s framework diverges. Though the council will become an elected senate, under this new proposal, our legislature will not be unicameral. Besides the senate, Rorik wants an assembly composed of members nominated by the Estates General representatives.”
“Unelected, then.”
Yakin nodded at Reyes.
“Yes, and therefore open to all manner of political shenanigans, though its powers will be limited to acting as the senate’s conscience by reviewing legislation and proposing amendments. My concern isn’t so much with the idea of this assembly, but why Rorik came up with it. You’ll understand in a moment.”
Morane, eyes narrowed in thought, said, “The proposal is a bribe, to get the Estates General on Rorik’s side as he puts forth constitutional provisions he knows we won’t accept.”
“Precisely. Here are a few of those provisions. The senate will not choose a leader who wasn’t born on Lyonesse, and the assembly will likewise not choose a deputy leader who wasn’t born on Lyonesse.”
Reyes let out a frustrated sigh.
“Which conveniently excludes you, Jonas, Gus, and me along with most of the defense force members. Everyone who’s been frustrating Rorik’s ambitions. I can see why bribing the Estates General is necessary. How is that even legal?”
“There are plenty of historical precedents,” Morane replied. “But Rorik is doing this for short-term political advantage rather than looking to Lyonesse’s future. What else?”
“Legal responsibility for the knowledge vault will be taken away from the Defense Force and the Order of the Void and given to the Lyonesse Legislature, as the senate and assembly will collectively be known.”
Morane’s left hand clenched into a fist.
“I should have known he’d try something of the sort when his damned oversight committee wasn’t getting anywhere. We can’t allow politicians with a five-year time horizon to control something built for the distant future.”
“Why do I think Rorik intends to become our first head of state?” Reyes asked in a soft voice. “With Severin Downes as his deputy?”
A smirk pulled up the corners of Morane’s lips.
“Because you have a suspicious mind. Any other poison pills, Madame?”
“Several. The senate will not confirm the nomination of ministers, deputy ministers, defense force flag officers, and senior police officials. In other words, no legislative advice and consent for anything belonging to the executive. The same goes for supreme court nominations, though if the Estates General insist, he’ll throw them a bone and give the assembly scope to question nominees, but not block them.”
Reyes frowned.
“What is Rorik building? A republic or a dictatorship?”
“A republic that can easily become a dictatorship if the leader is so inclined.” Morane put down his teacup and leaned forward. “There are enough historical precedents. None ended well. We need to stop this nonsense, Madame.”
“I’m not sure we can. Even though Chancellor Reyes is a member of the Estates General—”
“For now. Rorik’s been playing footsie with the Board of Trustees and is fanning the flames of dissension among the university faculty. Sorry for the interruption, Madame.”
“I’m afraid most of her fellow members will see this as a chance to extract more advantages for their constituencies rather than set the foundations for a lasting civil contract.”
Morane nodded.
“And Hecht will encourage horse trading, provided they vote in favor of the council’s resolution. This stinks of Downes and his fellow former imperial court schemers. No doubt they’re angling for ministerial positions under a Hecht administration. How long a term is he proposing for the head of state?”
“Six years, with no term limits. The head of state can only be removed for cause by the supreme court on a two-thirds majority vote of both the senate and the assembly.”
“Meaning he can make himself leader for life.” Morane jumped to his feet and paced the room. “Emma, you need to speak with your fellow Estates General members and impress on them the long-term risks for Lyonesse if they support Hecht’s vision. I know a lot of them don’t give a damn about the knowledge vault, so it’s best you leave it out of your discussions.”
“That was my intention.”
He stopped as if struck by an idea.
“Now I know Downes is involved. This is a repeat of Stichus Ruggero’s constitutional coup, only without the imperial trappings. Hecht doesn’t need to be stopped, he needs to be shot!”
Yakin raised a hand.
“Please, Admiral. Not even in jest.”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I surrender the knowledge vault to a bunch of short-sighted politicians. And they have to be extremely short-sighted if they’re voting in favor of this steaming mess.”
“Rorik has his ways. If I order you to comply, as my last act before stepping down in favor of whoever will be the first head of state under our new constitution, would you refuse?”
“Yes. And I’d refuse the same order from your successor as ruler of Lyonesse.”
“Then you’d be rebelling against the legitimate government of this star system and in no way different from many of your fellow admirals out there who forswore their oath to the Crown.” Yakin pointed upward as if to indicate the galaxy at large. “And how will that help the situation? Would you order your troops to dissolve the legislature and executive at gunpoint so you can become a military dictator?”
Morane straightened his back under the lash of her words.
“Point taken, Your Excellency.”
“Glad you see it my way. The solution to this conundrum is thwarting Rorik Hecht’s ambitions without spilling blood.”
“A shame the Order of the Void isn’t part of the Estates General,” Reyes said. “Sister Gwenneth is a master at the art of persuasion.”
Yakin’s eyes went from Morane to the chancellor.
“She is that. Do you think her late addition would help sway opinions against Rorik?”
Morane inclined his head.
“It can’t hurt to try. And making her Order one of Lyonesse’s community voices will tell Hecht we won’t allow him to pervert the Constitutional Convention without serious opposition.”
“Then it is done.”
Yakin touched her brooch and Wickham Sanford entered moments later
“Excellency?”
“Draw up a proclamation adding the Order of the Void to Lyonesse’s Estates General, with the leader of the abbey as representative.”
“Yes, Madame. Shall I send it to the council for ratification?”
“No. Allowing the council to approve additions is a convention, not the law. Until Lyonesse has a new constitution, I remain its ruler.”
Sanford bowed at the neck.
“As you command, Excellency.”
“The gesture will infuriate Hecht and his entourage, Madame,” Morane said once the secret
ary left them again, “but it’s not nearly enough to trip the bastard up.”
“Then think of more obstacles we can put in his way. I don’t want Rorik to succeed, but your intemperate suggestion we kill him will only make matters worse. He is a duly elected colonial councilor and was acclaimed to the speaker’s chair by his peers.”
“Agreed, and I apologize for my earlier outburst. Perhaps Sister Gwenneth can give us sage advice.”
“Or meddle with a few feeble minds,” Reyes added. “That woman has scary insight. Pardon me for stating the obvious, but we shouldn’t have let her focus on the abbey to the exclusion of everything else. Didn’t you say she warned you about Hecht early on, Jonas?”
“She did. Excellency, I won’t use main force to protect the knowledge vault just yet, but I would rather it be preserved intact for our posterity by a dictatorship than used as a political pawn by those whose vision doesn’t extend past their own limited lifespans. Compared to what it means for future generations, the lives of Rorik Hecht, Severin Downes, and the rest of his nasty little cabal have no value.”
Yakin caught his eyes and held them before nodding once.
“Understood.”
“In that case, if there’s nothing else, can Emma and I excuse ourselves? We have much to think about.”
“Certainly. Thank you for coming, Admiral, Chancellor.”
“We are at your service, Madame.”
Once outside, in the afternoon sun’s warm glow, Emma Reyes wrapped her arm around Morane’s as they strolled toward the latter’s staff car, patiently waiting by the Government House guard post.
“Would you really send out death squads if the Constitutional Convention falls for Rorik Hecht’s slimy scheme?”
“Do you really expect me to answer such a question?” When she didn’t immediately reply, Morane said, “The best time to stop an enemy is before he can make a move. Afterward tends to be messier.”
Something in his voice caught her attention.
“Why do I sense a plan coming together in that fertile brain of yours?”
“Because I bared my soul to you.”
“That’s not the only thing you bared, and I’ll point out it was reciprocal.”
“Yet as much as I’d like to reciprocate right now, I need to spend time mulling over what Elenia told us.”
“Alone?”
He stopped and glanced at her.
“We probably should talk this out, but in my quarters. Chances are a treacherous professor in the engineering department asked one of the brighter students to build him a state-of-the-art surveillance suite just for your home.”
“Really?”
“Anything is possible these days. I can ask Major Barca to send one of her counterintelligence teams and check.”
“Sure. If they find anything, what are the chances we can trace the components back to their origin?”
“Reasonably good. Why? Are you thinking of retaliation?”
“I hear revenge is sweet. If I’m to be ousted by the Board of Trustees in part because many among the most vocal faculty members don’t have the foresight of a mewling infant, I’d like to leave as much pain and embarrassment as possible in my wake.”
“If that’s you want, my dear chancellor, I can arrange matters to your satisfaction before the trustees even meet. Several of the Rifle Regiment’s part-time soldiers are university students, and they’ll gladly carry out undercover work.”
“Can I give you a list of names?”
“Please do.”
Once they were in the car, Reyes said, “One thing puzzles me. Rorik is smart enough to know Elenia would summon us the moment he left Government House. Why give up the advantage of surprise by telling her about the council’s, or rather his proposed constitutional framework before they vote on it? He didn’t get to where he is by being a lousy political operator.”
Morane was silent for a moment as they drove through the main gate and out onto Founders’ Boulevard.
“No, he didn’t. Hecht got to where he is by being a ruthless negotiator. This proposed framework is obviously his opening position, designed to wring concessions from us, something I might have figured out earlier if I’d kept my anger in check.”
“Should we go back and let Elenia know?”
“It’ll come to her within the hour. The sonofabitch knew we’d react this way. That’s why he did it. Well, two can play this game.”
“What are you plotting?”
“Buy me a drink, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
— 43 —
“Good evening, Sister.” Morane, wearing a well-cut gray civilian suit, sketched an abbreviated bow as he ushered Gwenneth through the Lannion Base officer’s mess lobby, one of many chambers dug into the towering granite cliff face. “Thank you for coming.”
“After Speaker Hecht threw down the gauntlet, I’d not miss tonight for all the precious gems in the galaxy, Admiral.”
“You look well.”
“I look as I always do, but thank you for attempting to compliment me. The return to the quiet monastic life agrees with my Brethren, in spite of the occasional hostility at the university and working with new arrivals who know nothing about farming for a living. Though the latter generally tend to be happier and more grateful than the political prisoners we brought to Lyonesse.”
Morane escorted Gwenneth to the main room, where most of the Lannion-based defense force officers not currently on duty were clustered around standing tables or the bar, enjoying friendly conversations. Colonel DeCarde and Lieutenant Colonel Kayne broke free of their respective groups when they spied the Sister of the Void and came to greet her.
“I’ll leave you in Brigid and Matti’s capable hands. Our guests of honor should pass through the main gate at any moment now.”
“And how would you know this? Did you develop a talent for prescience?” An amused smile danced on Gwenneth’s lips. “It’s not because of the time. Neither Speaker Hecht nor Commissioner Downes enjoys a reputation for punctuality, other than when they’re expected at Government House.”
“The admiral put surveillance teams from Major Barca’s Security Company on both their sixes,” DeCarde replied, a broad grin splitting her face. “Local youngsters who once belonged to Matti but decided they’d rather play secret agent than infantry trooper.”
Kayne gave his commanding officer a tolerant smile.
“Talented, highly motivated people who’ll go far whether they stay part-timers or make a full-time career in the defense force.”
“I’m sure Adri is already dangling irresistible inducements before their eyes.”
“No doubt.”
“Keep Sister Gwenneth entertained.” Morane returned to the lobby moments before the main gate announced Hecht and Downes’ arrival.
When the speaker’s official car pulled into one of the reserved spots near the ground level door, Morane stepped out and watched his guests disembark.
“Jonas.” Hecht waved while he plastered on his hearty hail fellow, well-met smile. “Is this invitation a sign you might reconsider your position vis-à-vis certain matters of common interest?”
Morane waited until both men were near before holding out his hand.
“Welcome, Rorik. And yes, this invitation is a sign.” After shaking with Hecht, he turned to Downes. “Severin, nice of you to come.”
In contrast to the speaker’s firm, domineering grip, Downe’s hand felt like a cold, dead fish, with about as much muscle tone. Morane suppressed a smile at his sour expression, well aware the former noble detested anyone he considered an inferior addressing him by his given name. Especially one who’d long stymied his plans to take control of the knowledge vault. Downes might have been a successful schemer at the imperial court, but he was no master in the art of political glad-handing.
“Admiral.”
Morane waved them into the lobby.
“Lest you think we threw this on j
ust for you, the mess holds a get-together every second Thursday of the month. I just thought we might enjoy a companionable drink while discussing matters of mutual concern. Your money’s no good here, by the way, so feel free to sample whatever tickles your fancy.”
The buzz of conversation didn’t dim when they entered the main room, and apart from a few curious glances, the assembled officers didn’t pay their admiral’s guests any attention. And it was by design, so Hecht and Downes understood the defense force wasn’t about to give them a fawning welcome like their own social set.
“Good attendance,” Hecht said when they reached the bar where a wide space had been cleared for them.
“These monthly events allow friends and acquaintances from different units to socialize and talk business in a relaxed setting. What can I offer you?”
“A glass of the Carhaix Barnburner will do me fine,” Hecht replied, naming one of Lyonesse’s better whiskeys from a distillery not coincidentally owned by the Hecht family consortium. “With a splash of water, if you please.”
Morane signaled the bar droid and turned to Downes.
“And you, Severin? We offer a good Pinot Gris from the Dereux Vineyards in Trevena. One of Chancellor Reyes’ favorites.”
A grudging nod.
“It’ll do.”
Morane gestured at the droid again.
“And a Lannion Bitter for me.”
“Funny,” Hecht said, “I took you for a red wine man.”
“I am when it suits the setting and the company.” Morane winked. “And I’ve become rather partial to Lannion Brewery beer.”
“Hah.” Hecht’s smile was as broad as it was insincere. “We might be rivals, but I’ll be the first to admit Torvald has the best brewmaster on the planet, and he’s not leaving Lannion for love or money, more’s the pity.”
The droid returned with their drinks and passed them out. Morane raised his foaming mug.
“Once again, welcome. I won’t propose the traditional naval toast for a Thursday. Instead, let me just wish you good health.”