The Lost Stars 01-Tarnished Knight (40 page)

“General Drakon.”
I am going to regret this. I know I am. Just do it. It’s the last thing anyone will expect.
“I would like to meet with you personally. As soon as possible. Neutral ground, no aides or assistants.”

He studied her, then nodded. “All right. The usual place? I can be there in half an hour.”

“I’ll see you there.”

* * *

AFTER
the conference room door sealed, Drakon sat down, watching her and waiting.

“I’m going to do something stupid,” Iceni said.

“Really? That sort of thing seems to be going around,” Drakon said in a half-mocking, half-bitter way. “I hope it’s not as stupid as what I did.”

“I’m going to tell you that I may have just killed a man with a carelessly worded statement.” Iceni explained what had happened, then waited for his reaction.

“Why did you tell me that?” Drakon asked. “You know what I could do with that information.”

“I am . . . trusting . . . that you will not.”

He smiled for the first time that she could recall since his return from Taroa. “You’re right. That’s stupid. Fortunately for you, I’m even stupider. I don’t want anyone rummaging through the skeletons in my closet, so I’m not going to send anyone to go looking in yours. That’s the kind of precedent that can bite back hard. As for what happened, or might have happened, to Buthol . . .” Drakon shrugged. “Don’t lose any sleep over it. If you made a mistake, then you know what not to say next time.”

Could he possibly understand? “Under what possible interpretation is a mistake that kills someone acceptable?”

Drakon looked away from her. “President Iceni—”

“Call me Gwen, dammit.”

He seemed briefly taken aback. “All right. Gwen, do you have any idea how many battles I’ve been in and how many little mistakes I’ve made? And how many soldiers died because of those mistakes?”

“That is different. You were trying to do your job, you were learning—”

“It doesn’t feel that way. Not if you’re worth a damn.” This time Drakon appeared surprised at having gruffly admitted feeling like that.

“Then you do understand. Forget what we’ve been taught. Forget all the lessons we learned on our way to the top of the Syndicate hierarchy. Is this what we want? The ability for someone in power to kill on a whim, or by mistake?”

She had expected some argument, expected defensive anger, but Drakon instead sat silent for a long while before replying.

“Neither of us is perfect,” he finally said. “Both of us are human enough to make more mistakes than we should.”

“Then should there be limits on our ability to make those kinds of mistakes?”

Drakon stared at her this time. “Is this tied in with what you were saying about changing the courts?”

“Partly.”

“What is it, exactly, that you are asking me?”

Iceni took a deep breath. “Will you agree to order no more executions
or
assassinations? Not unless we
both
decide that is necessary in each individual case?”

Another pause. “Did you discover who tried to kill Rogero?”

“No. But I’m wondering if someone else, someone who thinks that sort of tactic is run-of-the-mill business, someone who might work for you or for me, might have made that decision on their own.”

“Because that’s how things are done.” Drakon made it a statement, not a question.

“And who knows who their next target might be?” Iceni added. “I want to know, if someone goes after me, that
you
did not order it. We’ve got the start of something here. We’ve kept this star system stable, we have the potential for alliances with two other star systems, and we can keep growing if we aren’t destroyed. External threats are one thing. We have little control over that. But internal threats can destroy us, too. You and I have to place real trust in each other, and mutually agreeing to cease extralegal killings can be an important part of establishing such trust.”

“Why should you believe me if I say I won’t order killings?” Drakon demanded.

“Because I think you’re worth a damn, General Drakon.”

Why the hell did I say that?

But after a moment he smiled. “I’ll make you a deal, then. I will agree not to order any more executions or assassinations without your specific approval, and I’ll reemphasize to my people that they are not to conduct such operations on their own. In exchange . . .”

“Yes?”

“Call me Artur instead of General Drakon. When we’re alone, at least.”

“I don’t know. That’s a big concession,” Iceni said. “Who else calls you Artur?”

“No one. Not for a long time.”

“Then I will agree.”
But if you sleep with that female again, you’re going to be “General Drakon” full-time.

Before she could say anything else, her comm unit pulsed urgently. She could hear Drakon’s doing the same. “What is it?” Iceni snapped. “This had better be an emergency.”

“It is,” Togo said. “Update your system display.”

Drakon, having listened to his own message, was already entering the command.

The image of the Midway Star System that hung above the table flickered for a moment.

“Hell,” Drakon said.

At the hypernet gate, new ships had arrived. Iceni read the identifications glowing next to them. “A Syndicate flotilla.”

“And they’ve got a battleship,” Drakon said.

“So do we,” Iceni replied.

“Their battleship probably works.”

Iceni couldn’t think of an answer to that. “Six heavy cruisers, too. How many light cruisers? Four. And ten HuKs.” Even without the Syndicate battleship, that would present a tough problem for Iceni’s warships since she lacked an operational battleship of her own. “They want this star system back badly.”

“We’re receiving a message from the flotilla,” Drakon said, tapping another control.

A window opened before them, showing a familiar person in Syndicate CEO garb. “This is CEO Boyens,” he announced. “To former CEOs Iceni and Drakon. I have been sent here to return this star system to Syndicate Worlds’ control.

“You’re both guilty of treason. If you want to make a deal, you’d better make me a very good offer and make it soon.” Boyens offered them a standard CEO smile with a visible trace of smugness, then the brief message ended.

After a long moment of silence, Drakon glanced at Iceni. “Any suggestions?”

She shook her head. “Appealing to the better nature of CEO Boyens is unlikely to accomplish anything. He’s far from the worst Syndicate official I ever dealt with, but he’s very ambitious. What do we have to offer him?”

“As a bribe?” Drakon asked. “The most valuable things in this star system are you and me. If you want, we can flip a coin to see which of us offers up the other.”

“He doesn’t need to settle for one of us,” Iceni said. “Not with a force of that size. What we need—” She broke off as a new alarm sounded, this with a different note, a special note engraved in her memory. “No.”

Drakon was eyeing the display, his expression even grimmer than before. “Yes. The enigmas are back.”

The Syndicate force had arrived hours ago at the hypernet gate. The enigma force, coming in at the jump point from Pele, had also been in-system for a few hours, the light from its arrival only just reaching this planet. Boyens would be seeing them at about the same time, and realizing that his plans for reconquering the star system would have to change.

Iceni watched the symbols marking alien warships multiplying rapidly. “It’s a strong assault force,” she said, surprised that her voice sounded so steady. “They’re not here to just hit-and-run.”

“That’s enough enigma warships to wipe out the human presence in this star system,” Drakon agreed. “At least we can see them now that we’ve eliminated the alien worms in our sensor systems, but where the hell is Black Jack? What did he do? Stir them up and move on, leaving us to catch it when the enigmas retaliated for having their space invaded?”

A sensation of cold emptiness filled Iceni as she gazed at the display. “Or perhaps the enigmas proved to be more than even Black Jack could deal with. If the enigmas wiped out Black Jack’s fleet, what chance do we have?”

Drakon surprised her by smiling, then she realized the expression was more the snarl of a wolf at bay than anything to do with humor. “Let’s call Boyens and tell him he’d better ally himself with us if he wants to be a hero.”

“And if he doesn’t want to be a hero? If he’d rather run and live?”

“We die at the hands of the enigmas. If they’ve got hands.” Drakon paused, then shrugged. “Of course, with the odds we’re facing, we’ll all die regardless of whatever Boyens does. But he might help us buy a little more time.”

“For what?” Iceni asked. “Do you expect help? From where?”

“I don’t know,” Drakon admitted. “Maybe your knight in shining armor will show up.”

“I don’t have any knights, General Drakon. A wise woman doesn’t depend on someone’s showing up to rescue her.”

“What does she depend on?” Drakon asked, his eyes back on the display as if he were already thinking through their limited options.

Iceni also looked at the depictions of the attacking enigmas, the strong Syndicate flotilla, and their own badly outmatched defensive forces. “She depends on her judgment of whom she can trust, General Drakon.”

Drakon gave out a short, sardonic laugh. “Then why are you here with me?”

“Why haven’t you already pulled a weapon on me?”

He grinned with real humor this time though a dark defiance of fate stayed in his eyes. “Because I never made a very good CEO. Go ahead and call Boyens while I get the ground forces fully activated.”

Perhaps I do have one knight,
Iceni thought.
A knight of darkness and shadow. But maybe it’s just his armor that is tarnished. Maybe inside that armor is someone who is still capable of doing something that doesn’t bring personal gain, who, as he told me, really does want something worth dying for. Or is he blemished inside as well and just recognizes that our very slim chances will become none at all if we turn on each other now?

She said nothing more to Drakon before she called the Syndicate flotilla with an offer she hoped it would not refuse.