Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2

by Michael Formichelli

  “You want to think the best of everyone, Ichi-chan.” She kissed the lobe of his ear.

  “Is that wrong?”

  “No, but don’t let it blind you. This will help.” She put her hand on his chest.

  “Too bad it doesn’t work across light-years.”

  “Unless you bond as we have,” she added.

  “That doesn’t help me with Cylus.” He smiled.

  She shook her head. “No. For him you must judge for yourself and take action as you see fit.”

  A dark thought entered his mind. If Cylus died, his mother would inherit Keltan Securities. It would keep their struggle alive, and deny Zalor ultimate control of the Confederation.

  “You must do what you must to keep us all alive,” Setha said as though reading his mind.

  “He is my friend.”

  “Even if he joins Baron Revenant?”

  He gritted his teeth against the guilt assaulting his heart. “I will not be swayed by my personal feelings. You know I do what must be done, no matter what.”

  “You do what is right, no matter what. That is why I love you.” She kissed his earlobe.

  Ichiro looked down at his mechanical arm.

  “It is true, even if you do not believe it,” she whispered.

  “You don’t know me that well.”

  “I do.” She slid a hand down to the center of his chest. The nanomachines warmed at her touch.

  “There’s more. Sophi told me Zalor has an instant travel device. From the way she described it—”

  “—he has access to the Cephalon Spheres. I know. Suman Rega is working for him.” She sighed.

  “Can we do anything about it? My father’s files only indicated he was researching them, and that some of our new drive system is based on that research.”

  “Rega’s power over the spheres comes from a conversion algorithm he developed on Savorcha when I was a child. I can counter his device’s control. It is alien to them and will not work as well as our link.”

  “Our link?” His eyes widened.

  She nodded, rubbing his sternum. “Through these.”

  “There is at least that, but you cannot be everywhere. We must deal with this new development.”

  “The Savorchan temples will not allow the sphere’s use.”

  “Can he force it, like you did?” Ichiro asked.

  She closed her eyes, sitting back away from him. “No. As I said, the device is alien to the technology of the spheres. The temples can lock it out.”

  “So, for now his control is limited to the systems with spheres and no temples.”

  “Those are few.”

  “But he won’t be happy with just those. Zalor will move on the occupied temples in some way. Maybe that is why he is in league with the VoQuana?”

  She was quiet for a time, then nodded. “Maybe.”

  “We need to watch this.”

  “How will you respond to your sister?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I won’t. A response so long after she sent this will tip off anyone listening that something is amiss. I won’t respond to any messages from the capital until we are ready to return.”

  “Not even to let your mother know you are alive?”

  “Not even that.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “Mother is shrewd, she’ll know something is going on from the lack of contact. I’ll explain everything once we see her again. I’ll tell everyone else I was too wrapped in my grief to respond. She’s going to love you, by the way, don’t worry.”

  “I’m not.” She reversed his grip and kissed his hand in the same manner he had kissed hers.

  His implant chimed.

  “Lord Mitsugawa, I am sorry to bother you at this early hour, but the lords Einaga wish to see you at your earliest convenience,” Mamiya-san transmitted.

  Tell them I will take breakfast with them up here.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “My cousins are coming.”

  “I can disappear,” Setha offered.

  “Why?”

  She stared at him, then nodded. “I will get dressed.”

  He kissed her and got to his feet. Donning a black silk kimono, he tucked Hoshinagi against his waist and paused by the door. Setha put one on with white cherry blossoms, and her hair flowed up on its own into a traditional, fan-like shimada style.

  “Don’t let the other women see you do that. They’ll be jealous it’s so easy for you.” Ichiro winked.

  She cocked an eyebrow up and smiled. “I can keep a secret.”

  He chuckled and opened the door. Together they moved out across the shoji-lined hallway into the suite’s dining area. The glow-walls came on and reflected off a low table large enough to sit fifty. At its head a two-meter wide symbol of his House, molded in silver, hung on the wall above an arrangement of flower-blossoms cloned from Earth species. Artificial servants dressed in gray clothing moved about the room, completing place settings for six. He went with Setha to the head of the table and stood before it, staring down at the pillow on the tatami floor. This was his father’s place. It felt wrong to be taking it. But didn’t he have a similar struggle when he took over for grandpa? Won’t the others reject me as their leader if I don’t take it? He shook his head. It had to be done, but he hesitated until Setha caught his eye and nodded.

  He forced himself to sit on the thick cushion. She took the seat to his right, and placed her hand on his, giving it a brief squeeze.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  The doors slid open and Mamiya-san entered. He bowed and waved his hand. The artificials tending the tables stood up and took a step back to the wall.

  “Your cousins will be here soon,” Mamiya-san said. “Are you ready?”

  Ichiro withdrew his hand from Setha’s and nodded.

  “Will my aunt be joining us?” he asked.

  “She has declined, my lord.”

  He sighed. It was just as well. He wasn’t sure he could deal with her on a civil level this morning after such dark news from the capital.

  “Let them in.”

  Mamiya-san bowed and exited the room.

  “You are nervous,” Setha said.

  “Anxious, yes. I do not think the Einagas are thrilled to have me as their lord.”

  “You will be fine.” She nodded, and feelings of reassurance flooded into him through their link.

  The doors opened again. Mamiya-san re-entered, bowed, and stepped to the side to allow the entrance of Ichiro’s cousins. Einaga Hiroaki appeared in his black military uniform bearing the Mitsugawa House symbols on its high, Prussian collar. His face was dominated by defined cheekbones over a narrow chin, and his hair was waxed and shaped into the classic chonmage queue over a shaven pate. A slew of metals befitting his rank as commander of the Taiumikai Defense Forces jingled over his left breast, and a black scabbard holding a wakisashi with a pearl-encrusted guard hung from a chain on his belt. He gave a crisp and deep bow and stepped aside.

  Behind him his round-cheeked younger brother, Einaga Jiro, entered in a traditional black kimono with white edges on the sleeves. His hair was cut close to the scalp, and styled after the popular Solan fashion currently in-vogue on Venus. He bowed low when he entered, though the gesture was not as crisp as his brother’s.

  “Mitsugawa-uesama, it is a pleasure to be in your company again.” He stepped to the side opposite his brother.

  The youngest of Aki’s sons, Einaga Junichi, entered with a smile on his narrow face. His eyes gleamed in the light, though not from any degree of mirth that reached them from his lips. Dressed in a gray, three-piece business suit, he had his hair shaven down to the scalp. On his arm was a short Taiumijin woman with prominent cheekbones which gave her a heart-shaped face. Her dark brown eyes gleamed with intelligence in a face framed by black, shoulder-length locks. She dressed in a traditional blue-and-white kimono with a swallow embroidered below her right shoulder.

  “Mitsugawa-uesama, it’s nice to see you. I present my perso
nal assistant, Takeshima Kame,” Junichi said with a shallow bow that brought a heavy, tense blush to his eldest brother’s face.

  “It is a true honor to be in your presence, Mitsugawa-uesama,” Takeshima-san said in a small voice. Her bow was deep and formal.

  At least she has manners, Ichiro thought, then it dawned on him that hers was the voice he heard through the door three nights ago when he arrived. She didn’t sound like an employee then. “This is Eckortaan Setha, heiress of the Savorchan tribes, and my personal guest.”

  “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu, Eckortaan-san,” Hiroaki said.

  “Eckortaan is a title,” Jiro said in a low voice.

  “My apologies, Setha-sama.” Hiroaki blushed deeper.

  “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu, Einaga-san.” Setha’s words lightened his crimson face and he bowed to her.

  “Please sit down and enjoy yourselves.”

  His cousins and their guest took their seats around him. The servants put out rice, fish, and eggs. Mamiya-san moved to kneel at the end of the table without a place setting before him.

  “We haven’t had much of a chance to sit and talk since you arrived,” Junichi said “I heard you’ve been busy on Kosfanter the last couple of years.”

  “Somewhat, but I’ve also been traveling,” Ichiro responded.

  “I’ve wanted to ask you about something. I heard that the Confederation is near financial collapse. Were you at the Barony session when that particularly strange piece of legislation about war funding was passed?” Junichi asked.

  He nodded. “Unfortunate, but yes, I was.”

  “How many opposed it?” Junichi looked around the table at his brothers.

  “Clearly, not enough.” Ichiro frowned. He didn’t want to discuss politics this morning.

  “Did the Cleebians side with us?” his cousin persisted.

  “They did not.” Ichiro scowled. The Cleebians, lead by Baron Xitar, would pay for their betrayal. His father had trusted them and they had abandoned the House. He breathed in deep, letting the anger drain with his breath.

  “So we are alone?” Jiro asked with widened eyes.

  “What about House Keltan? House Cronus?” Hiroaki asked.

  “They are still with us,” Ichiro said, knowing that might not be the case if Sophi was right and honest. He kept his face neutral while he spoke. “So we are not alone against Revenant.”

  “Did the Cleebians side with Revenant, though? If they did then uncle’s resistance is over.” Junichi’s cheeks were flushed.

  “That can’t be.” Takeshima’s voice drew all of their attention. She cocked a narrow eyebrow up. “Well? Hasn’t Mitsugawa been a strong House for centuries? Has it not always triumphed in the end? Who would be so foolish as to abandon something like that?”

  Junichi coughed, staring at her. “How dare you—“

  “She is right.” Hiroaki put his hands on his knees. “People flock to strength, and we are one of the few baronies with our own loyal star fleet.”

  “Other baronies have large fleets, and they are at Revenant’s disposal,” Junichi said.

  “But they are not like ours,” Hiroaki insisted.

  “Not anymore,” Jiro responded in a light voice.

  Ichiro looked at him. “You are referring to the Fukuro Project?”

  He looked like he’d just been caught stealing from the pantry. The color drained from his face, but Jiro nodded.

  Ichiro glanced at Takeshima. “Is she cleared for this?”

  Junichi smirked. “She knows everything I do.”

  Ichiro frowned. “I see. Jiro, tell me about the project.”

  His middle cousin looked at Setha for a moment, then spoke. “Originally, we built two prototypes. The first your father took with him when he left for Earth.”

  “I don’t remember it,” Ichiro said.

  “It was docked on the outside of the Musashi so no one would know it was there. The second is at the Seika Zōsensho shipyards, concealed within a private docking bay,” Jiro answered.

  “Who knows about them?” he asked.

  “Apart from those in this room? Our mother and a few CELs maintaining it,” Jiro said.

  “If you ask me, it is a waste of time building these things. It will take a prolonged marketing campaign to get people used to the idea of such a personalized style of travel, and that engine—” Junichi began.

  “You have no vision, Junichi,” Jiro muttered.

  “I think you overestimate its appeal. Besides, how many can we possibly put out a year?” Junichi rapped the table with his knuckles on every word.

  More than you know, Ichiro thought. The athenaeum had revealed quite a bit about the project to him. In fact, the future of his House was staked on it.

  “Are you joking?” Jiro asked. “How many star drives do we put out a year right now?”

  “There aren’t that many starships in production, not anymore.” Junichi frowned.

  “We put out twenty-thousand star drives a year, on average,” Takeshima said, drawing their attention. “Fifteen-thousand nine-hundred and forty-two of those are military-grade on average, in a given year, with the rest divided among minor baronies and transportation companies. Those figures do not included the hundred-thousand or so drives that we service or upgrade in a year at our authorized facilities. We have thirty-nine percent of the market share, with our largest competitor, Cosmos Corporation, holding over fifty.”

  Ichiro cocked an eyebrow. “You know your figures. Are you reading them off your implant or from memory?”

  “Memory, Mitsugawa-uesama. I always memorize important details,” she said without a hint of ego in her voice.

  “Impressive.” He nodded at her.

  “That is why I keep her around,” Junichi said with a grin.

  “Is it?” Ichiro cocked an eyebrow, suspicious that more was going on between the two.

  Junichi seemed puzzled at the comment. “I think we should stay with our current model of star drive and focus the attention on developing something comparable to what Cosmos Corp just did. How did they get this new, instantaneous drive anyway?”

  “It has something to do with that Doctor Suman Rega,” Jiro responded.

  “Who your father cut loose a number of years ago as I remember.” Junichi frowned at Ichiro.

  “That’s the Uchū Shōgun you are talking to.” Hiroaki scowled.

  “My apologies, Mitsugawa-uesama.” Junichi’s eyes did not match his words. Ichiro could feel his resentment using Setha’s training.

  “You were saying, about suggesting Shiragawa’s future business strategy?” he said.

  “We have a strong market hold and we really shouldn’t be taking any risks now. This Fukuro project was a flight of fancy that your father took. Sure, they can be impressive vessels, but they aren’t good for public use.”

  “Even if you disagree with the civilian applications, you have to admit an FTL ship that can land on a planet safely has military value,” Jiro muttered.

  “Of course. The military already uses AlCas drives to traverse the space between exit zones and orbits faster than civilian craft, but I wouldn’t say the Fukuro drive was safe, not by comparison. AlCas drives are powered by fusion reactors, something we understand well after centuries of using them. The power source for the Fukuro drive is—”

  “It is safe. I made sure of it!” Jiro’s eyes blazed like an outraged parent

  “I’ll be sure to quote you when the first catastrophe occurs.” Junichi laughed.

  “Ah, what do you know? You’re just a desk-tapping salary-man.” Jiro frowned. “Mitsugawa-uesama, what do you think?”

  He nodded, pretending to ponder. He already knew about the Fukuro’s design and capabilities. The athenaeum contained every detail of the vessels’ engineering, and he already didn’t like Junichi, or trust his judgment. His father believed in the technology, and he felt he should, too.

  “I think we need to come up with an effective marketing campaign and do a trial run
of civilian sales once we have a viable production line in place.” He scratched his chin.

  “Mitsugawa-uesama, are you sure?” Junichi asked.

  “I’m sure he is,” Takeshima said, earning another glare. “How about we eat?” She picked up her cup of tea and raised it to her lips.

  “Are those implants? They must be,” Junichi asked once he had a mouthful of fish.

  “No,” Setha responded.

  “Genetic modifications? Is it a trick of the light?”

  “I’m sorry, what are you referring to?” Hiroaki frowned.

  “Her eyes, look.” Junichi gestured.

  Setha turned her head to each of them so they could all see. “Yes, my eyes are different.”

  “And those tattoos look VoQuana-like,” Junichi gestured with his chopsticks.

  “Enough.” Ichiro was starting to get ideas about what sort of man Junichi was, and he didn’t like it.

  “It is all right, Ichiro.”

  They all frowned at Setha’s words.

  “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

  Ichiro gathered their eyes to him using his own. It was a technique he’d seen his father use many times. “Eckortaan Setha and I are on casual terms.”

  “But you are the Uchū Shōgun,” Jiro said.

  “As your mother is fond of pointing out, not yet.” He took a sip of his tea.

  “Still, Mitsugawa-uesama—” Hiroaki stifled himself. “My apologies. It is not for me to tell you how to behave.”

  Ichiro frowned. “But neither should you sit in silence while you object to what I do. My father did not let such cuts fester and neither will I. If you have something to say to me you may say it in private as we are now.”

  “Are we?” Hiroaki glared at Takeshima.

  “What are you trying to imply, brother?” Junichi frowned.

  “I’m sorry, Einaga-san is right. I am an outsider here,” Takeshima said.

  “No, do not apologize. What are you implying, brother?” Junichi scowled.

  “Nothing,” Hiroaki responded, his voice was cold.

  Junichi snorted.

  Ichiro picked up his bowl and started eating.

  Mamiya-san looked up from the table. “Forgive the interruption, but we have just received word that an FTL vessel has entered our system.”