Pandora's Gambit

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Pandora's Gambit Page 16

by Randall N Bills


  The boy took a deep breath, as if he were gulping down courage, and then began to speak. “My mother lady Jessica would like to propose an alliance between our two realms. Anson Marik has been making significant troop movements within his realm, and there are rumors he is resurrecting the Silver Hawk Irregulars. Now is the time for those who would see Anson’s ambitions curbed to join together.”

  Fontaine set down the glass and leaned back in the chair, settling his old bones firmly, eyebrows arching in surprise. “That was direct.”

  “You told me to be honest, Lord Marik. If you want straight talk, I’ll give it to you.”

  Fontaine nodded as he mulled over the news. Not really a surprise, though I find it interesting she sends one of her youngest pups to deliver it. He picked up his drink and nursed it as he thought about what it all might mean. As his mind churned through the permutations, he picked at the boy, trying to see what more he could find.

  “So, Anson is saber-rattling. There’s no love lost between the Lyrans and the Mariks. Especially after the Jihad. I’ve seen plenty of reports describing current Lyran troop movements. Anson could simply be responding in kind to show the Lyrans we will not roll over. Even I’ve begun some troop movements and a new militia recruiting drive. After all the worlds the Lyrans grabbed during and after the Jihad, it pays to be careful."

  Christopher nodded. “Of course. That’s what it could be. In fact, that’s likely what it is.”

  Once more Christopher caught him off guard, but he smiled. “That’s more like it, son. That’s you talking. So if Lyran aggression is the most likely motive, why should I consider an alliance?”

  Christopher laughed. “Because while that’s a likely reason, it’s not certain. You may think me reckless, my lord. And I am. But I’m also very careful. I calculate my chances with a very critical eye. And I pay attention to my equipment and resources. Attention to detail is what makes my bets pay off. The most likely cause of Anson’s troop movements is a response to the Lyrans. But if it is not . . .”

  Fontaine found himself warming to the boy. Nice analysis. Still, the concept that she sent her next-to-youngest to treat with him . . . He glanced toward the chair, longing for the sage advice of his beloved. If the boy is here, where are her other children?

  “Your mother is empire building,” he said abruptly, and saw he had caught the boy off guard.

  “Sire?”

  “Your mother is empire building. This isn’t about an alliance with my realm. Her goals are a lot grander. I’ve seen it coming for a while, but she’s taking it to a new level. What’s got her spooked, boy?”

  The young man blinked his eyes slowly several times, before apparently deciding on a path. “I don’t know, my lord. I was not even privy to what this meeting would be about until months after I left on this sports tour. And what little information she did share with me came through someone else.”

  Fontaine set down his glass again, slowly leaned forward and heaved up out of the chair. He walked to stand a mere three steps away from the young man. I think you actually told me the truth again. For just a moment he wondered if it were all a put-on. Either you’re stupid, or you’re a lot smarter than I gave you credit for. Much to Fontaine’s chagrin, he realized it was probably the latter. He liked the boy’s spunk, but he poked at his defenses one last time. “Either you’ve just been incredibly honest with me, or you’re stupid.”

  The young man took the potential insult in stride. “I’ve been called a lot of things, my lord, including stupid. But those using that term apply it to what I do. And as I said, my lord, I carefully plan every action. Those who call me stupid simply don’t—or won’t—understand that.”

  “And I’m sure your mother faces some of the same criticism. And while I have no ambition for empire building, she at least has the decency to approach me civilly—though your methods are a bit unorthodox.”

  The young man nodded.

  “I do find it ironic that the captain-general without a drop of Marik blood is the one to best remember the roots of our League. That braggart Anson is a bully and Lester, the old wretch, doesn’t deserve a kennel . . . they’d both see my realm conquered if they could figure out how to do it without one of the others tearing apart his own realm in the meantime.”

  “That’s how I’ve always seen it, my lord.”

  “Have you, now?” he responded, a smile creasing his lips for the first time that day. “Don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about, boy. You’re a mite smarter than I originally gave you credit for, and I hope you get past this suicide phase and accept that your mother might just have the best vision of any of us. I’ve watched her for a lot of years, and she’s played a subtle hand. A lot more subtle than those other two. And that just might mean all the difference in the end when she makes her play. But you listen to me, boy,” he said, stabbing a bony finger at his chest. “She’s missing something. Something she’s going to need if she doesn’t want all of her years of work to come crashing down. Despite our freethinking, despite the horrors of the Jihad and the Great Betrayal by the captain-general . . . we’re more like the other Great Houses than we want to admit. If she truly wants to unite us, she’s gonna need Marik blood. Not mine. I’m too old, nor would I seriously contemplate it.” I’m too old to give you up, my dear. “But you take that back to your mother. You tell her what I’ve told you. She wants to see my support thrown into her bid, show me how she’ll have Marik blood to help forge that union again.”

  He reached behind him, picking up the glass and tossing off the last of the liquid, its warmth as ever a salve to his burdens, including this latest one. “And if I like what I see, well, then she may just get her wish.”

  17

  Amur, Oriente

  Oriente Protectorate

  1 November 3136

  Jessica moved down the corridor. She seemed to flow, as though her feet did not move so much as her heavy dress acted as a hoverskirt, allowing her to glide on a cushion of air.

  As she neared the end of the hall, the guard snapped to attention and then bowed low, after which he slowly, quietly as ever, opened the door. Jessica nodded once in acknowledgment, looking the guard directly in the face though he kept his eyes glued to a spot over her shoulder. He knows, as do they all. I know every one of them, even if propriety means we do not speak.

  The raised voices inside the room immediately enveloped her in the edginess of simmering tempers. Barely home a day and already you two are back at

  each other? She didn’t hide the sigh, knowing they’d not even noticed her arrival.

  “But how could you not know something was up? How could Duke Humphreys simply dismiss you like that? There must be something you’re missing.” Nikol’s almost strident tone lashed at Julietta, who responded by shrinking back in her chair, the tone of her response making it clear she was on the defensive.

  “And I tell you, sister, there was nothing. One moment I’m dealing with the insufferable Cunin, and then Duke Humphreys finally agrees to see me. From one moment to the next, he’s dismissed me, letting me know he has other allies.”

  “What other allies?” Nikol responded, leaning forward, clearly in control.

  Fascinating. Jessica stood rooted to the spot, wondering at the new dynamic between her daughters.

  “There are no other allies,” Nikol continued without waiting for an answer, holding up her hand as she ticked off the points on her fingers. “House Liao? As bad as the blood is between us and House Liao, it’s threefold and more between them and the Anduriens. Canopus? Despite the Centrella blood that flows in Ilsa’s veins, the magestrix is perhaps even more Liao than the chancellor. Both brother and sister . . .” She shivered. “Give me the creeps. And Duke Humphreys is smart enough to see the same thing. The Rim? Sure, I suppose they could be courted—we’ll see what Elis says when she returns—but an ally to deter military force? Ridiculous. And the Fiefs?” Nikol paused momentarily, a thousand-meter stare filling her face.
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br />   As Jessica held her breath in the near silence to keep from giving away her presence, she carefully watched her eldest. Julietta breathed as though she’d just run a marathon, eyes wide and face flushed, mouth open to gasp at air as her chest heaved. A perfect opportunity to seize back the initiative, yet yousit frozen, a deer in the headlights. You’ve ever been reluctant to take the lead, especially with your older brother to make all your decisions for you. But this? Jessica slowly nodded, further confirmation of her initial reaction upon meeting Julietta at the DropPort yesterday. Something happened to you, Julietta. Something important. And it has weakened you. Perhaps irretrievably so.

  She turned her eyes to her youngest daughter, amazed to notice—like she was a spectator witnessing an event for the first time—that Nikol wore a burgeoning mantle of leadership; she radiated a core sense of herself. Perhaps more so than Julietta ever did. And now with Julietta damaged beyond repair? A coolness swept through her like a draft of winter air carried down the empty nighttime corridors of the palace. She closed her eyes, momentarily allowing herself to wallow in the sorrow of a myriad worries of what might have happened to Julietta—and the sure knowledge that despite years of holding out hope, she would finally have to admit defeat. You will never rule, Julietta. Not even a world.

  “The Fiefs are a possibility,” Nikol finally continued, returning Jessica’s attention to the silent tableau. “But I’m not sure I see it. The only way Lester would contemplate offering protection outside his borders is if the Anduriens were willing to join realms. And can you imagine that? Can you imagine the Anduriens giving up their right to rule? After all the centuries of trying to gain their freedom? Can you imagine Lester allowing such autonomy? There must be something you’re missing.”

  “I tell you, sister, there is nothing that I missed. I did everything I could to broach the topic of establishing ties with the Anduriens and the duke kicked me off his world.”

  “But the insult!” Nikol said, her voice rising a notch.

  In Nikol’s tone of voice and the outrage on her face, Jessica saw something unexpected. You still feel loyalty to Julietta. You may have thought you were past all that, but despite the range in your ages she is still your older sister. Despite her failure, your outrage is not just

  for our name, but for Julietta herself. She hesitated a moment longer, briefly doubting the effectiveness of using Julietta as an object lesson for her younger children; she had not considered that they might love her enough to feel anything more than pity. She decided it was time to step in.

  “Is of no import.” Jessica finished Nikol’s sentence as she glided forward. Startled, the sisters turned toward their mother. Their reactions to her apparently sudden appearance supported her initial impressions: Nikol maintained her mildly outraged look, but Julietta’s face actually flushed a deeper red. I am sorry, Julietta. And perhaps I’ll be able to pay back the duke one day for whatever it is he did to you (I know you’ll never tell me what that was)—but for now I must move forward without you.

  The Protectorate stands ready.

  “How can you say it’s not important?” Nikol demanded. “No ruler should be allowed to kick a Protectorate heir off his world.”

  “I’m sure our bottoms will not be too worse for the wear.” She ignored the haunted look in Julietta’s eyes as she took a seat at the table between her daughters, settling gracefully into her chair. “My dear, in your argument you forgot one important element.”

  “And that is?”

  “That Danai Liao-Centrella guaranteed we would not need to worry about the Duchy of Andurien. Which is why I’ve slowly begun to move troops away from that border. Not wholesale . . . I’m not that trusting. But we have tested the waters, and so far the border has been silent as a grave.”

  “So you think Duke Humphreys actually made a deal with House Liao? That seems . . . preposterous.”

  “It does.”

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  Neither do I. But Jessica shrugged meaningfully, regardless.

  “Then is he lying? Is Liao simply using muscle to keep the Anduriens in line? That hasn’t worked well in the past.”

  “There is no way for us to know exactly what is going on at the moment. But with Liao’s commitments in the former Republic prefectures, does he have the resources to strong-arm the Anduriens? I doubt it, or he wouldn’t court me to apply pressure in the same region of The Republic.” She laid her hand on the smooth table, as she always did while deep in such conversations, drawing strength from its solidness and history.

  “Furthermore, while I’m sure Duke Humphreys took our apparent interest in Julietta marrying his vassal with a grain a salt, I cannot believe he would willingly toss away the potential for that tie unless a bigger fish came along. I am certain of that.”

  Julietta remained silent, but as Nikol opened her mouth to speak she was cut off by the noisy entrance of Torrian Dolcat. Jessica became absolutely still at the appearance of Torrian outside their normal meeting venues. For him to come here and interrupt . . .the news must be incredibly important. Her mind leapt to the worst conclusion: Stormdrain has been compromised! Fear gripped her throat until she wheezed with the effort to maintain her composure. Not that.

  As Torrian drew closer, however, she could see from his face that the news was unexpected, but positive. He stopped walking when he was within a meter of Jessica, then glanced back at the guard standing stiffly at attention inside the room, his face twisted with anger and dislike.

  Ah. You bullied your way in. Jessica signaled a dismissal to the guard, and he stepped back outside.

  Torrian waited until the door closed, and then walked over to stand next to Jessica. “I’m sorry for interrupting, Your Grace. But I knew you would want this information immediately.” He handed her a folded printout, which she accepted gingerly, as if it might sear the flesh from her hand. She took a deep breath, unfolded the sheet and read. Her surging fear turned so quickly from dumbstruck shock to pleasure that she was incapable of responding for several long minutes. As though moving in slow motion, she turned her gaze on Torrian. “Has this been verified?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Mother, what is it?” Nikol burst out, losing her struggle against her impatience.

  Jessica contemplated keeping the news to herself for a moment longer, but her lips moved almost of their own volition as her mind spun a skein of possibilities. “The Spirit Cats have invaded Marik.”

  The news sparked a furious debate between her daughters over why the Spirit Cats might invade and what it might mean, but Jessica caught Torrian’s eye and he allowed his excitement to show, further stoking Jessica’s growing euphoria. “It’s what we’ve been waiting for,” she said, her voice so low that only he heard her. At his answering nod, her excitement spiked in a physical pleasure she’d not felt in years.

  Easy, Jessica. Wouldn’t do to die of a heart attack just when it has truly begun. She shook her head at the stunning serendipity. What luck! The Spirit Cats have invaded Marik. What could possibly be more fortuitous? It’s a sign. She remembered what she’d said to Nikol: I’ve placed myself to take advantage of this unlooked-for situation.

  She took a long, slow breath, then nodded, once, firmly at Torrian, who waited with avid eyes for her signal. He nodded sharply in return. No words would be spoken at this final juncture; no written trail would lead back to her. But here, right now, Jessica knew that Torrian must be absolutely certain of her intentions. Once again she nodded firmly: Operation Stormdrain was to move into its final stage. He bowed and slipped out of the room, heading toward his tiny control center and the messages he now must send.

  God help me. But her excitement over the appearance of the key from a totally unexpected quarter quickly overshadowed any remorse. The key to everything.

  Jessica raised her hand, instantly silencing her daughters. In a flash of unhappy inspiration, Jessica saw that the key to her grand plan also offered Julietta the chance for
one final service to the state. Though Julietta would almost certainly fail, the circumstances into which Jessica planned to send her would provide what Jessica needed regardless.

  And in Julietta’s final failure, Nikol will understand that the ties of the state bind closer than family blood.

  “Nikol, Julietta.”

  “Yes, Mother,” they replied in unison, though with very different tones of voice.

  “I have important missions for you both. Missions that may mean the difference between ultimate success and failure.”

  “Thrice-damned sons of tin whores!” Anson roared.

  In the small confines of the safe room, the sound was almost deafening, increased by the crash of his metal chair falling as he leapt to his feet and the cacophony of the contents of his desktop being swept to the floor. He towered in the middle of the room, another angry roar erupting like a volcano of rage before he stood panting, a bear awakened too early from its hibernation, voraciously hungry and one hundred percent royally pissed off.

  His sausagelike fingers clenched into fists the size of a small child’s head as he looked for another object against which to target his ire. The only other loose object in the room, despite the presence of several workstations and the desk, was the holovid player; though tempted, he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the messenger. Not a mechanical one. Now, if Daniella sent a live messenger, then . . .

  Captain-General Anson Marik felt truly shocked by the turn of events. And if there was one thing he loathed, it was being caught flat-footed. He exhaled heavily through his nose, then reached out to hit REPLAY.

  The image of Daniella covered in sweat and dust, her cheek bandaged, sent him into a new fit of rage even before she began to speak.

  “Captain-General. I have routed this message as quickly as possible, but don’t know when you’ll receiveit. A large Spirit Cat force has invaded Marik, taking the Firehill Plains and inflicting twenty percent casualties within the first four days of fighting. The situation is dire. We need reinforcements immediately. I will do what I can to hold on.”

 

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