This one is already trying to do just that, he thought, bitterly. Yet another reason why we need to end this as soon as possible.
The thought led to another one. “I want to have the prisoners from the battle shipped to Earth,” he said. “They will be interrogated, then executed.”
“Of course, sir,” Thorne said. “Would you prefer a public execution or private?”
“That would cause them to retaliate against our prisoners,” Kratman snapped. “They have hundreds of thousands of our people held prisoner, ready to be slaughtered if we massacre their prisoners.”
“We don’t know they’ve been taking care of our prisoners,” Thorne snapped back. “I...”
“They sent us as much evidence as they reasonably could,” Kratman said.
“Faked,” Thorne insisted. “Keeping so many prisoners alive would strain them to the utmost!”
“They know better than to engage in mass slaughter,” Kratman thundered.
Thorne took a breath. “Are you defending them now?”
Marius slapped the table. “Enough,” he snapped. His head was starting to pound. “I will not hear my cabinet arguing so savagely. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Thorne said.
“The prisoners must not be slaughtered,” Kratman insisted. He didn’t seem cowed by Marius – but then, he’d known Marius as a snotty young midshipman. “They can be held on a penal world until the war is over, then you can consider their final disposition.”
“But they need to be interrogated,” Thorne injected. “Sir...”
“They will be held on Mars, after interrogation,” Marius ruled. He looked from face to face, desperate for the meeting to come to an end. “Are there any other issues we should raise?”
“Just one,” Tully said. “I believe we should cancel the plan to exile the student rebels.”
Marius swung around to glare at him. “Why?”
Tully looked down at the table. “Because their parents are quite important to the economy,” Tully said. “And the Civil Service. Resentment on their part might have quite unfortunate effects.”
Maybe I can find a use for Ness, Marius thought. Keeping the paper-pushers in line.
He shook his head, a moment later. Ness might not be a potential traitor, or warlord, but he was simply unreliable.
“Very well,” he said, instead. “Hold them here, but do not exile them.”
He rose to his feet, unable to wait any longer. “Dismissed,” he said. “I will discuss your specific dispositions during my trip to Boston later.”
The cabinet dispersed. Marius watched them go, then walked through a side door into one of the smaller officers. He’d never been able to work out what the president had done in the office, but there was a large cabinet to one side, crammed with expensive bottles of alcohol. Some of them cost more than he’d made in a decade of serving as an admiral in the Federation Navy.
He sighed, then reached for a bottle at random and poured himself a glass. The reddish liquid smelt faintly of roses. Shaking his head – he’d never been a wine snob – he lifted the glass to his lips, silently toasted Roman Garibaldi and Fifth Fleet, then took a long sip. The wine tasted oddly smoky against his tongue, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He finished the glass and poured himself another one.
“You shouldn’t be drinking so much,” Tiffany said, as she stepped through the other door and smiled at him. “You have far too much work to do.”
“I know it,” Marius grunted. He tossed back the second glass, then placed it in the wash basin and strode through the door into the living room. “But I also have a victory to toast.”
“I heard,” Tiffany said. “Roman did well.”
“The boy was always lucky,” Marius agreed, although he knew that luck had played only a minor role in the battle. He turned as she followed him into the room. “Did you hear the bit about you taking command on Earth?”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you want me to stay in command here?”
“I need someone I can trust absolutely,” Marius said. “There aren’t many people here who are devoted, first and foremost, to the Federation itself.”
He sat down on the sofa, rubbing his forehead. Tully was the consummate bureaucrat; he’d keep the system running, but he wouldn’t consider the greater good of anything above the system itself. Professor Kratman was more interested in theory than reality; he might be right about the dangers of pushing the economy as hard as he was, but the real danger lay in losing the war. And Thorne was more fixated on keeping a lid on potential troublemakers than anything else. Together, under his leadership, they could accomplish much. But separately, none of them could handle ultimate power.
Tiffany walked around behind him, then started to massage his neck. “I’ll miss you,” she said, as her fingers undid his jacket. “You’ll be gone for...how long?”
“At least seven months,” Marius said. “It will be quite a long time for you to hold supreme command, but you can do it. Besides, anyone who gives you real trouble will see me returning with an entire fleet behind me.”
He smiled. Home Fleet was his. He’d replaced some of the officers with his personal loyalists, while giving the crewmen shore leaves and other special treatment, ensuring that no attempt to foment a mutiny could succeed. Anyone who had ambitions to replace Tiffany as Regent of Earth would have to subvert Home Fleet, then somehow devise a counter to Fifth Fleet. And, of course, the superdreadnaughts under Marius’s personal command.
“Stand up,” Tiffany ordered. She removed his shirt as soon as he obeyed, then started to work on his trousers. “You need to relax.”
“I have work to do,” Marius protested, half-heartedly. “I...”
Tiffany walked around the sofa, then shrugged off her dress and stood naked before him. Marius felt a sudden lump in his throat, reminding himself just how lucky he’d been to have Tiffany given to him. The Grand Senate had thought Tiffany would help control him, or betray him if he plotted rebellion. Instead, they’d become true lovers and allies.
“I think you can wait,” Tiffany said, firmly. She stepped forward and pushed him down to the floor, then straddled him. “And besides, if I’m not going to see you for nearly a year, I want something to remember.”
* * *
The emperor looked surprisingly cheerful, Professor Kratman noted, as he was shown into the emperor’s office. He was sitting behind a desk, smiling to himself, as he read a set of readiness reports from Home Fleet. But then, he had good reason to be cheerful, Kratman knew. Home Fleet, as the Federation Navy’s reserve formation, was ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.
“Professor,” Marius said. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” Kratman said. “What can I do for you?”
“You’ll be accompanying me to Boston,” the Emperor said. “I imagine there will be talks with the Outsiders, once they realize their defeat is inevitable. You will assist me with the talks.”
Kratman kept his expression under tight control. He’d expected to have to argue the emperor into allowing him to travel to Boston. Instead, he was being given what he wanted on a silver platter. It was enough to worry him more than he cared to admit.
“Yes, sir,” he said, softly. “Dare I hope you plan to give them more than their lives if they surrender?”
“We’ll see,” the emperor said. “But it depends on just how quickly they are prepared to bend the knee.”
“Yes, sir,” Kratman said. There would be time to convince the emperor to moderate his demands later, on the flight to Boston. “It will be my pleasure to serve.”
Kratman noticed a sheet of white paper on the desk and frowned. “What is that?”
“An execution warrant,” the emperor said. He gave his former CO an odd little smile, then held the paper out for inspection. “Blake Raistlin will die today.”
“Oh,” Kratman said.
Interlude Two
From: The Chaos Years (5023)
There is an old analogy about political systems that are too closely interrelated for peaceful separation to be achieved. Two scorpions are confined within a small bottle, too small for both of them. But the scorpion that strikes first is unlikely to kill its opponent before it is stung itself. The outcome is mutual destruction.
For the Federation and the Outsiders, the analogy could not be more precise.
The Federation could not surrender its grip on the out-worlds. Nor could the out-worlds passively accept Federation domination indefinitely. Indeed, the Outsiders had fled the outcome of the last major interstellar war over who ran the Federation. The war bred ruthlessness on both sides because, intentionally or otherwise, the war aims were thoroughly incompatible. Emperor Marius saw the Federation as a holy cause; it could not be sundered, whatever the cost. But the Outsider leadership saw the Federation as the source of all evil. There could be no compromise.
For both sides, the Battle of Boston brought change. The Federation saw the victory as heralding the eventual reunification of the human race. There was no incentive to compromise. But the Outsiders saw the victory as a foretaste of eventual disaster. And, in desperation, they started to consider other ways to win their war.
And yet, the Federation was staggering. Cracks in its society, some caused by the Grand Senate, others by the Justinian War and Emperor Marius’s coup, only widened as the war raged on. The Federation needed a period of time to breathe. Instead, it lurched from one crisis to another, then another and another, until it could no longer cope. The victory at Boston came too late, in the end, to prevent the Federation facing the ultimate disaster...
...And, for Emperor Marius, the choice between winning the war or salvaging something from the ruins of a once-proud civilization.
Chapter Thirty-Four
But for those who lost, the shock of defeat could force them to face facts and change their tactics.
-The Federation Navy in Retrospect, 4199
Sanctuary/Nova Athena, 4101
Chang Li had to fight to keep her face impassive as General Charlie Stuart was shown into the Council Chamber. His uniform had been taken from him and replaced with a bland jumpsuit that might as well have been sackcloth and ashes. The long interrogation sessions that had followed the news of the defeat had left the general looking thoroughly unwell; he stood between two armed Marsha, his pale face suggesting he was on the verge of collapse.
He didn’t deserve such treatment, Li knew. He’d fought well and hard for the Outsider Federation. But there had been no choice. The Council wanted more than just a full investigation, no matter how hard she’d struggled against it. They wanted blood. In hindsight, thousands of people were arguing that Boston had been a trap...and that General Stuart, the man who had argued for the battle, had deliberately sent his fleet into a meatgrinder.
They think he’s a traitor, she thought. And they want him to die a traitor’s death.
She felt her lips quirk into a bitter smile as she surveyed the councilors. None of them could hope to make amends with the Federation, not now. They were either descendants of those who had fled the Inheritance Wars or aliens – and her, of course. The Federation probably considered her a traitor, all the more so for plotting against them while seated on Earth as a member of the Senate. But the other members had slowly withdrawn from the Outsider Council.
It was hard to blame them, she knew. Their worlds stood naked, exposed to the Federation’s counterattack. It wouldn’t be long, if the reports from Earth were true, before Emperor Marius himself led an offensive into the Rim. And it would be almost completely unstoppable, at least until the damaged starships were repaired and rearmed. The Federation, its pride stung, would attack with savage force, clearing as many Outsider-occupied worlds as possible. And they would make great gains before the Outsiders rallied.
If we can, the pessimistic side of her mind noted. They’d expended far too many starships in the Battle of Boston, for nothing. We may not have time to replace our losses before the enemy attacks.
“General Charlie Stuart,” the mediator said. “You have been summoned before us to account for the defeat at Boston. Do you have anything you wish to say before we consider your case?”
Li gritted her teeth. It wasn’t a fair trial. How could it be? They wanted blood – and they didn’t much care who bled, as long as someone did.
“I was the person who believed there was a window of opportunity to attack Boston,” General Stuart said. His voice sounded broken. “I was wrong, as you know, and I accept full responsibility for the failed offensive. There is nothing else to say.”
Li winced, inwardly. General Stuart hadn’t been the only person involved – and he wasn’t the only person who could claim a share of the blame. She’d signed off on the plan to attack Boston, as had most of the Council. The Marsha, in particular, had been very enthusiastic about the plan. It was odd, but perhaps unsurprising, that they seemed the least inclined to seek a scapegoat for the disaster. Their honor code left them convinced that a failed offensive was still better than standing on the defensive.
“Then we must consider your punishment,” the mediator said. “Is there anyone who would speak in your defense?”
General Stuart shook his head. He’d been offered the chance to call witnesses to the stand, but he’d declined to summon anyone. It might well have damaged their careers too.
Li hesitated, then rose to her feet. “I believe we have to consider all the facts,” she said, shortly. “There were no voices who believed the attack on Boston was a mistake. No one argued against launching the invasion of the system. And, because of that, we cannot hold General Stuart solely responsible for the disaster.”
There was a clicking sound from Insect #342. “These facts must be accepted and learned from,” it said, through the translator. “The defeat has left us in a dangerously exposed position. There is no time to judge one person when the whole is threatened.”
“Agreed,” High Lord Slant said. The Marsha leaned forward. “He launched a powerful offensive and did his best to win.”
“But he lost,” one of the human representatives snapped. “He could have taken the system and opened the way to the Core Worlds. Or backed out when it was clear the Federation Navy was up to something. Instead, he stayed in the system too long to escape, after it became clear that the Federation had laid a trap.”
“I take full responsibility,” General Stuart said. “The blame is mine.”
“Then I propose that General Stuart be sent to command the defenses of Nova Athena,” Li said, shortly. “It will be a demotion, but it will also give him the chance to learn from his defeat...”
“But he could have planned to betray us,” the representative snapped. “He should be stripped of all honors and exiled.”
“He was interrogated thoroughly,” Li snapped back, feeling her patience coming to an end. “He didn’t intend to betray us to the Federation. I suspect we allowed our desire to break through into Boston and take control of the Asimov Points to blind us to the risks involved in the assault.”
She paused. “I call for a vote,” she said, as General Stuart shot her an unreadable look. “All in favour of Nova Athena?”
“All in favor,” the mediator said, once everyone had raised their hands. “General Stuart is hereby assigned to Nova Athena as her system defense commander. Good luck, general.”
He waited for General Stuart to be escorted out of the chamber, then keyed a switch. A young black-haired woman, wearing the uniform of an Outsider general, stepped into the chamber, She carried a small terminal under her arm and looked, thankfully, confident. Li wasn’t sure if her confidence was based in reality or not, but the Council needed to believe they could win. Or at least force the Federation to come to terms.
“General Wilson,” the mediator said. “You are the new commander of the Outsider Navy. Do you believe we can still win the war?”
“I believe it will be very difficult,” General Wils
on said. Her accent suggested she’d spent time in the Federation, before joining the Outsiders. “However, we still have some advantages. Most notably, our bases are hidden from rapid detection.”
“There are still vulnerable worlds,” Councilor Blunt insisted. “Every world we liberated from the Federation is now at risk!”
“Yes, they are,” General Wilson said. “But, realistically, few of those worlds contributed more than trained manpower – at best – to the war effort. Athena and Nova Athena are the only worlds that possess considerable industrial bases of their own. I believe we should harry the Federation Navy as it advances back into the Rim, but avoid a pitched battle short of either of those two worlds.”
“You appear to be gambling that the Federation has not located any of our homeworlds,” Blunt said. “What if they choose to strike directly beyond the Rim?”
“Then we will lose the war,” General Wilson said. She pressed her hands together, as if she were in prayer. “We simply do not have the resources, at the moment, to cover every possible target. The last set of reports from our agents on Earth confirm that Home Fleet will be detaching a sizeable force to reinforce Fifth Fleet. Added to what Admiral Garibaldi has under his flag, he will not run into anything big enough to do more than delay him until he reaches Nova Athena.”
Wilson paused. “And I believe Nova Athena will be their prime target.”
Li swallowed. “Because of me,” she said, when she trusted herself to speak. “They’ll target my homeworld because of me.”
“I believe so,” General Wilson said. She tilted her head, allowing strands of black hair to shroud her face. “They consider you the prime mover behind the Outsider cause, Councilor. Targeting Nova Athena will not only undermine your status, but prove that we cannot protect even the homeworld of one of our leaders.”
The Shadow of Cincinnatus Page 33
