by S. H. Jucha
“We’ve several to choose from,” Rufus remarked.
“And do they all possess respectable standings among stationers?” Dorelyn inquired.
“Some do; some don’t,” Rufus said, shrugging.
Dorelyn’s eyes narrowed at Rufus, and he gritted his teeth. He hated Dorelyn’s silent remonstrations. In hindsight, he knew he should have thought before he opened his mouth.
“I want the two of you to put your heads together and get me a list of potential candidates,” Dorelyn requested. “I want details on them. I’ll speak to my security chief and get his input.”
“Are we taking this to the council?” Idrian asked.
“Not yet,” Dorelyn replied. “If we inform them prematurely, we’ll be inundated by their suggestions for candidates. You can be sure they’ll be ones who’re beholding to them. I want to craft our list and present it to them. They can choose one of our candidates,” she finished, a cruel smile twisting her lips.
When Dorelyn dismissed Idrian and Rufus, the two men strolled down a retail corridor, discussing the conversation they’d had with Dorelyn.
“You know what she’s going to do, right?” Idrian asked.
“Yeah, we’ll produce this list, but she’ll maneuver the council to back her choice,” Rufus replied. “Then she’ll be the one to suborn the candidate. The end result will be that she’ll own the commandant.”
“Exactly,” Idrian agreed. “We’ll be right back where we started. Instead of a governor controlling the domes, it’ll be Dorelyn, with the weight of the families behind her.”
“The good news is that she only serves for three years,” Rufus pointed out.
“Which means Dorelyn has three years to find a way to make herself the permanent head of the council,” Idrian riposted.
Rufus walked and considered Idrian’s prediction for the council’s future. He hated that at every turn others had the power over the domes. It would never be him, and he knew it … he wasn’t clever enough.
“If Dorelyn ends up getting the council’s choice, her choice, elected as commandant, the council will probably give her permanent control,” Rufus admitted.
“And there’s not much we can do about it,” Idrian said. “Unless you want to contemplate a different order of things.”
Rufus latched on to Idrian’s arm to halt their walk. “What are you suggesting?” he asked.
“Not here. Not in the open,” Idrian said, and continued walking.
-34-
Intrigues
The conversation between Idrian and Rufus waited until they returned downside. They were seated in Idrian’s office, when Rufus said testily, “I’ve been waiting two days to hear you explain yourself.”
“Look at our situation, Rufus,” Idrian pleaded. “We spent decades under Andropov, and the families got the leftovers from his table. Then we got Panoy, who wasn’t any better.”
“And she was replaced by Gaylan, who is turning out to be the same thing. I get it,” Rufus interrupted. “So, tell me something I don’t know.”
Idrian hesitated. The thoughts he wanted to share were incendiary, and he was under no illusion that Rufus was his friend. Family heads didn’t have friends. They had allies, and often those allies became enemies.
“Look, Idrian,” Rufus interjected, “I know you’ve got reservations about sharing dangerous ideas with me, and it’s not like we’ve always agreed. But on the subject of dome rule, you and I are probably thinking the same thing. We’re on a wheel that’s going round and round, and we can’t see a way to get off.”
Idrian mused about Rufus’ comments. He decided to disclose a portion of what he’d been thinking but not everything.
“Here’s something I want you to consider, Rufus,” Idrian said. “What if the council’s candidate loses? And what if Dorelyn is unable to eliminate the contender, who’s backed by our opponents?”
“Do you think that’s possible?” Rufus asked.
“All things are possible, when you consider the existence of unseen forces,” Idrian replied enigmatically.
Rufus stroked his chin, considering where Idrian was headed. To his annoyance, he didn’t see it. “Go on,” he finally said.
Idrian waited. He needed there to be a discussion in which Rufus committed to the conversation.
“Okay,” Rufus blew out. “Dorelyn … we, the family heads, lose control of the commandant position, which means we’d lose sway over key topsider issues.”
“True,” Idrian agreed.
“So who’s in control? Who’s the new commandant beholden to?” Rufus demanded.
“Good questions,” Idrian replied. “Maybe he or she isn’t in anyone’s pocket.”
The idea of a commandant not under anyone’s influence seemed foreign to Rufus. Then, like a bolt, it hit him where he’d seen that concept before and what Idrian had been leading him toward.
“We’re talking about the Belle’s documents,” Rufus declared. “But then, how does that help us, if someday there’s an elected president and elected representatives?”
“Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t,” Idrian replied, shrugging his shoulders. It was all he was prepared to say at this time.
* * * *
Dorelyn finished updating her security chief on the commandant’s meeting. She was pleased to hear that he’d already obtained a copy of the numerous recordings floating around the JOS. When he left her office, Dorelyn called for Sika, her administrative assistant.
A mid-thirties woman entered Dorelyn’s office. She was blonde, with a slight build, and she was pretty but in an unassuming way.
“Sit, Sika,” Dorelyn said, indicating a chair. “It’s my guess that Envoy Harbour is serious about pushing for the election of a new commandant. This presents us with several problems. We’ll back the commandant and maybe an alternate candidate, but there’s always the possibility the opposition could win. You need to prepare contingencies.”
“What type and for whom?” Sika asked.
“If we see that the opposition’s candidate is likely to win, he or she needs to have an accident,” Dorelyn said. “One that can’t be traced to us.”
“Is collateral damage acceptable?” Sika asked. She sat demurely on the edge of her seat. No one would suspect her of the skills she possessed.
“I would say that’s acceptable,” Dorelyn replied.
“Who else?” Sika asked.
“If by some fluke, the opposition wins and their candidate attains the commandant’s position, it might be necessary to clean up our prior relationships. They’ll know too much,” Dorelyn said. “That’s all,” she added, indicating the door.
Sika silently exited the room.
A small chill went down Dorelyn’s spine. Unless you were facing Sika, you were never aware of her approach.
* * * *
Before the Miner’s Pit opened for the day, Maggie cracked the hatch. “You two don’t have anywhere else private to meet?” she asked Liam and Devon.
“Nowhere safe, like here, Maggie,” Devon said, blowing Maggie a kiss.
“Get in here before you’re seen,” Maggie said, laughing. “Serve yourself. I’m in the back, recording inventory.”
Devon got water from the bar for the two of them and sat across the table from Liam.
“Well, we’ve got privacy,” Liam said. It had been Devon who’d requested the private meeting and suggested the Pit.
“I want to talk about the commandant recordings. I think I’ve got a way to use them,” Devon said quietly.
“I don’t have any ideas. So, I’m anxious to hear yours,” Liam replied.
“You know I don’t have any family and few friends,” Devon explained. “I’ve always been a bit of a loner. But something happened during my journey through the gates. My companions were an astounding group … Pyreans, Jatouche, and a Crocian.”
“Not to mention Aurelia,” Liam interjected. In reply to the lift of Devon’s single eyebrow, he said, “I’d have thought she
was a little young for you. She’s eight years your junior. Then again, I don’t know who a good partner would be for one of the most powerful empaths to ever exist.”
“You forget Harbour and Jessie,” Devon remarked.
“Are they —” Liam started to ask.
“No,” Devon quickly denied. “I think they orbit each other like twin stars. Gravity keeps them entwined, but it’s possible that they might never meet.”
“We’d all better find safe places to hide if they collide,” Liam remarked. “Does Aurelia know how you feel about her?”
Devon frowned at Liam, as if he’d asked the silliest of questions.
“Oh, right, empath,” Liam quickly said. “Sorry, not thinking. Then I take it you two haven’t talked things out.”
Devon managed to offer a shrug to his friend.
“Don’t you think you should?” Liam asked. “Or would you rather admire her from afar?” He’d never had a younger brother and wondered if he was offering the right advice to Devon.
When Devon gave Liam a second shrug, the major shook his head in astonishment. “Oh, for the love of Pyre, Devon. You fought giant creatures, and you can’t summon the courage to talk to Aurelia about your feelings?”
“I know. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Devon admitted.
“That’s one word for it,” Liam replied. “Okay, enough about your nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your idea about the recordings.”
“It’s simple,” Devon said. “I resign and then release the recordings. I take the blame for everything.”
Liam regarded his subordinate and wondered again about the experiences Devon had endured as an explorer.
“I can tell you, Devon, that it won’t work,” Liam said.
“Why not?” Devon demanded.
“After you confess, you’ll be up before the Review Board,” Liam explained. “It won’t take long for the prosecution to poke holes in your defense.”
“I’d keep my mouth shut,” Devon protested.
“You’re not thinking, Devon,” Liam said gently. “First, you couldn’t use any of the recent recordings. They were made during the time you were gone, and the data proves it. Second, the Review Board would know that you had help, and there’d be a hunt for your accomplices. Then there’s your sentencing. If Aurelia cares about you, how do you think she’d feel, knowing you were going to be incarcerated for a long time?”
Liam could see that he was getting through to Devon, but it occurred to him that his lieutenant wasn’t long for security services.
“Then again,” Liam continued, “you probably wouldn’t have to worry about doing any serious time. At first, Aurelia would probably mope about. Then, she’d get angry and influence Sasha. One moment you’d be in your cell, and the next you’d be walking free, passing the lot of us cowering under our desks and enduring visions of some nasty terrors. As a result, Aurelia and Sasha would share your criminal legacy.”
“You’re good at drawing bleak pictures, Major,” Devon commented.
“Glad you see it that way, Lieutenant,” Liam replied, adopting a more erect posture. “We’ve got to be smarter than our adversaries, not dumber.”
“Speaking of smart, Major, you need to be careful,” Devon warned. “And I mean in everything you do … where you go, where you eat, who you’re with —”
“No need to tell me,” Liam interrupted. “That’s something I’ve been thinking about ever since Harbour proposed that I run for commandant. After I’m announced as a candidate, my life will be in danger. I don’t have any illusions about that.”
“Well, Harbour is ahead of us,” Devon said. “You’re to have two constant companions.”
“I don’t want to put other people in harm’s way,” Liam replied. But after he thought about it, he asked, “Who?”
“Aurelia and me,” Devon replied, smiling.
Liam laughed, “I bet you objected vociferously to that.”
“My first thought was that Harbour was playing with us,” Devon admitted, “But then I realized that I’m a logical companion to the new candidate. People would expect you to have an escort.”
“And Aurelia?” Liam asked.
“You’re really not good at this, are you?” Devon riposted.
“At what?” Liam retorted.
“At empaths, Major. Aurelia would be our early warning system,” Devon explained. “You and I might allow an attacker to pass us by, and he or she could hit us from behind, but people can’t hide their emotions from her.”
“Is she that good?” Liam asked. He waved his hands to forestall Devon’s reply. “I know she’s powerful, but you’re talking about scanning hundreds of people an hour.”
“I watched Harbour and Aurelia link up and keep an entire deck full of the Colony … five-meter long, serpent-like, venomous sentients at bay. They were weaving in the air and hissing, angry that they couldn’t overcome the fear that those two empaths were projecting,” Devon related. “As long as I live, I’ll never forget that sight. It was magnificent.”
Liam watched Devon fade into his memories, and where it was a supposition before, now he knew for sure that his lieutenant wasn’t long for the job.
“I still think it’s a bad idea to put others in the way of an assassin’s attack,” Liam said.
“No problem, Major, you can explain your reasoning to Envoy Harbour,” Devon replied, ending his statement with a wicked smile.
“I think I’d rather take on those aliens you fought,” Liam grumbled, and Devon laughed in sympathy.
* * * *
Henry ate his dinner and stopped briefly to check on the status of the Pyrean Green fund. Its growth had slowed to a trickle. The one thing in the fund’s favor was that the YIPS manager, Evan Pendleton, had agreed to store the two completed intravertors, the partially constructed one, and the pile of new crates for free.
It had been Henry’s hope that Harbour’s challenge to Emerson would result in the commandant seeing the wisdom of giving up his relationship with the families. Unfortunately, it appeared that Emerson lacked the moral fiber.
Henry picked up his comm unit and called the Belle, requesting Harbour.
“Evening, Henry,” Harbour. She was in her cabin’s study, relaxing with Jessie after dinner with Dingles and Nadine.
“I’m ready, Harbour,” Henry said. “I’ve prepared an announcement about the plebiscite and attached a link to the station’s articles for further information. In my message, I explain the required signature count to authorize the challenge of the commandant. The only thing I’m missing is the link to your site.”
“One moment, Henry,” Harbour said. She switched from comm mode to the site that two of her techs had prepared, copied the link, and sent it to Henry.
“Got it,” Henry said. He opened the link to verify it and laughed. “That will certainly make a point,” he added. There was only one signature on the site. It was Harbour’s.
“The moment others begin signing up, we’ll start mixing in the signatures from the Belle,” Harbour explained. “I want to create an air of momentum.”
“Have you thought of running, Harbour?” Henry asked.
Harbour had her device in speaker mode, and Jessie covered his laugh.
“I’ve got other things I want to do,” Harbour replied.
“With aliens and such, I imagine,” Henry suggested.
“And such,” Harbour said quietly. “Good evening, Henry,” she added, closing her device.
Henry sent his message to the officer on duty in security, who quickly posted it to both stations and all ships. He spent the rest of the evening on the couch with his wife, watching a vid that she’d selected. They’d seen it before, but it was one of their favorites from the colony ship’s library.
Before Henry retired, he decided to check the signature site, not that he was expecting any progress in this short period of time. To his shock, there were over a thousand signatures. Shaking his head, he went to bed.
After morning meal, Henry couldn’t resist checking the site again. The signature count was five thousand plus. He sat there for fifteen minutes, and watched the number tick up every few seconds. He picked up his comm device and called Harbour.
“I thought you were going to add your signatures a few at a time,” Henry inquired without preamble.
“Good morning to you, Henry,” Harbour replied. She was still wet from her shower.
“Have you seen the signature site?” Henry asked.
“You launched it late last evening, Henry. Why would I check it?” Harbour asked.
“We’ve collected more than five thousand, three hundred signatures, including the Belle’s,” Henry explained.
“That would be difficult to do, Henry. I’ve left orders for the techs to add the first hundred later today,” Harbour replied.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre, Harbour. We’re speeding toward the required ten percent without your signatures,” Henry said, his amazement evident.
Harbour set her comm unit down and dried off while she thought. “Henry, don’t announce that the plebiscite has obtained the required number of signatures when it gets to the ten percent.”
“That’s going to be self-evident soon,” Henry said.
“I know, Henry. I’ll have the techs accelerate the addition of our signatures, but I want the populace to get an idea of the general mood.”
“When do you want it announced?” Henry asked.
“When it slows, Henry, and call me before you do that,” Harbour requested.
The signatures that Harbour, Jessie, and Henry expected would take weeks to collect took only three days. Thirty-four percent of topsiders had connected their comm units and added their signatures to the site.
During a dinner hour, Henry sent a message to security. The plebiscite was official. Within Henry’s announcement, he laid out the requirements for the candidates, who had to collect at least one thousand signatures to be placed on the ballot.
-35-
Campaigns
The morning after Captain Stamerson’s announcement, topsiders and downsiders were talking about nothing else but the plebiscite. Everyone waited to see who would qualify. There were the usual assorted characters, who visited cantinas or hung out in well-trod corridors soliciting signatures. Only two of these were eventually successful in achieving the minimum number of signatures and barely at that.
