Outriders

by Ian Blackport

  “Basilisk has left realspace. Trajectory is consistent with Toraigh, a Delbaethi military controlled star system.”

  “Well this was confounding,” Lieutenant Yacoby said. “Shall I end general quarters, Captain?”

  “No, maintain high alert for another hour. I don’t want to let our guard down prematurely.” Genevieve turned and walked toward her private terminal. “Even if I don’t understand what the hell just happened.”

  *

  Winston felt no love for parliamentarians as a whole and disdained their tendency to believe themselves above him, since they were public servants and he sought only his own enrichment, though he admired their flair for grandiose statements. He reclined on a padded chair in the public viewing gallery of the Parliament Spire, located on a balcony above the House of Commons. Sunlight streamed through a glass atrium crowning the three kilometer high tower, itself constructed atop the loftiest mountain peak on Jiaolong and stretching above a blanket of clouds.

  Six hundred elected politicians, representing all habited worlds and moons in the Confederacy, gathered here to discuss matters and events capable of shaping history in the Astraea Cluster. Billions of individuals, their fears, hopes and safety, were in the hands of these squabbling men and women, and most ordinary citizens never knew how their lives were changed for good or ill in this chamber. Such power and authority wielded with minimal accountability, and now Winston benefitted from an alliance with one of the most influential members.

  Sima Jiaying was a dangerously ambitious and calculating woman, though one who required the resources only Triaxus Corporation could deliver. She and Winston needed one another to achieve their objectives, and mutual dependence was a far better motivator than trust in such a high stakes scenario. Trust could be betrayed, but self-interest ensured reliable behavior.

  Ms. Sima stood at the moment, her voice carried by audio amplifiers throughout the cavernous chamber while she delivered a speech. Winston had to admit she knew how to perform and captivate an audience, even a roomful of jaded, veteran politicians intimately familiar with deception and misdirection. Yet she held most in her thrall by virtue of a commanding presence, stern mannerisms and entrancing voice. Unlike many other parliamentarians, she also did not consult notes or aids of any kind and never stuttered while speaking. Winston did not know whether she memorized speeches in advance or fabricated dialogue on the spot. Regardless, this routine left no doubt Jiaying was the frontrunner for chancellor, assuming a dark horse contender did not materialize in the final moments.

  The venerated Minister for Trade and Development concluded her speech and thanked her colleagues with theatrical though sincere words. Another Member of Parliament stood for a question, and Jiaying temporarily yielded the floor. The man’s name and his constituency appeared on a screen near Winston, though he did not care enough to consult the information.

  “The Tuathans mistrust and revile us,” asserted the man. “Both Elatha and Delbaeth have ambassadors here in Alishan, no less than a twenty-minute flight from the Spire. Yet neither has shown a willingness to open negotiations with us. Neither has even bothered to politely decline our offer for mediation in their conflict. Either ambassador could leave this planet entirely and we might not realize for days. How do you propose we discuss the possibility of friendship or an alliance with such an intransigent and hostile culture?”

  “By removing ourselves as a factor,” Jiaying answered. “You speak truthfully. Elatha and Delbaeth would happily end all relations with the Confederacy if their governments could afford such rash action. Economics alone ensure they remain here ready to talk when it suits them. But they will never accept our help, however earnest and determined, in resolving an unnecessary war. They distrust us as a matter of course. Suspicion of our government is practically bred into their culture. If we wish to negotiate with their representatives, I propose we withdraw from the equation.”

  “You mean request another independent star system act as intermediaries?” questioned a politician Winston did not recognize. “Perhaps delegates from Aeolus or Huaxia would be willing to play such a role, though I suspect either might force us to first offer incentive in the form of trade concessions.”

  “Strangely enough, that is not what I’m suggesting. Another non-aligned world may favor Tuatha in any negotiation, regardless of distance or previous associations, and I cannot condone a biased arbitrator. I recommend we dismiss governments entirely and utilize a corporation instead.”

  An odd mixture of surprise, dismissal and uneven support greeted her suggestion, filling the chamber with a discordant choir of cheers and guffaws.

  Jiaying raised a calming hand, acting as the consummate dignitary who wanted her audience to know she remained in control. “The proposition is not as outlandish as one might presume, and I don’t make the recommendation lightly. Many corporations have established trusted relationships in regions and markets where our government has never found success. With our blessing, they can do so again.”

  “Do you have such an enterprise in mind?”

  “As it happens, I do. One which not only meets all criteria, but whose chief executive officer has already agreed to the venture in principle. Triaxus Corporation, led by Winston Vanderlin. Triaxus has operations on fifty-three planets and moons, including seven claimed as sovereign territory by independent worlds. Few corporations conducting business in Confederacy space and licensed with the Stellar Goods and Trade Consortium have beneficial dealings with non-aligned worlds. Yet Triaxus has negotiated arrangements with independent planets whose governments would never do the same with us. I daresay their corporate liaisons would be more trusted and respected among the Tuatha system than anyone representing Parliament.” She paused and directed one finger toward the public viewing galley. “In fact, Mr. Vanderlin is here today to demonstrate his full support for this motion.”

  Winston climbed off his chair and placed one hand on a carved banister encircling the balcony, while his other offered an acknowledging wave. As an unelected visitor, Winston was not permitted to address the House of Commons. His presence and assurances were merely noted by Jiaying, who continued speaking after briefly drawing attention to him. Winston knew his role today was little more than serving as a token prop, though he understood the necessity. Let the doubtful Members of Parliament notice him taking the time to attend Parliament and recognize his earnest devotion to this cause.

  He reclaimed his seat and devoted little attention to the continuing discussions below, particularly once they moved on to other governmental concerns. House of Commons sessions were known to run for hours, and Winston had little desire in listening to such tedium. Yet leaving now might send the wrong message regarding his vested interest in these matters. With his choreographed role played, Winston tuned out the tireless discourse and thought about Triaxus and the glorious future awaiting.

  The session concluded several hours later and Winston seized his opportunity to finally depart. Parliament had not voted on the motion to let Triaxus negotiate on their behalf, and Winston knew an issue with such important ramifications required time. The strategy was only for Jiaying to introduce the proposal and give her compatriots time to consider. Before the vote occurred, both she and Winston would use their considerable combined influence to petition, coerce and bribe susceptible Members of Parliament to pass their motion. Those who were immune to all three considerations might require more forceful encouragement, though the need for that could wait.

  For now other matters required his attention, and it displeased him that the Parliament Spire blocked InCore and other wireless online access within certain chambers. He could send messages and analyze stock markets in hallways, offices and waiting rooms, but not within the House of Commons. Winston descended stairs carpeted in plush red velvet and consulted his UpLink to find twenty-seven messages awaiting his attention. Yet the universe was unwilling to give him a moment’s peace to do his job, because a voice hollered for him before he could
read even one.

  “Mr. Vanderlin.”

  Winston stopped midway down a broad corridor, tucked his UpLink into a coat pocket and faced the man who had interrupted his business dealings. “Good day, Mr. Balotti. What does the Honorable President of the Treasury Board wish to discuss?”

  Andronico strode closer as though a man with purpose, not one who wanted to hold an informal conversation. “I’m uncertain what game you’re playing, but it ends now.”

  “I don’t take your meaning.”

  “Pandering to Parliament and the Tuatha system, assuring us of Triaxus’ goodwill during presumed reconstruction. You’re maneuvering your corporation and its assets into this conflict, one that is unlikely to escalate and won’t even touch Confederacy planets. But you can’t wave your hand and fool us in the same manner you do with the media. We are not malleable pawns who believe the narrative endorsed by journalists on a short leash.”

  “I assure you, Mr. Balotti, I have no agenda. I only want to improve relations between our government and independent worlds.”

  “You keep spouting a carefully crafted speech depicting yourself as the selfless philanthropist, yet all I see is the ruthless corporate executive who’s harassed and bullied small companies into mergers and unfair acquisitions.”

  “My company will benefit financially of course, but that’s the nature of good business. There’s no nefarious scheme at work. Is it wrong for me to concern myself with the welfare of citizens on war-torn planets as well as my own employees and shareholders? Helping one doesn’t invariably mean dismissing the other.”

  “The only concept of help you comprehend is enriching yourself.”

  “I’m sorry you feel this way, Andronico. I fear I won’t be able to sway your convictions, not after you’ve convinced yourself these beliefs have merit. All I can do is convey my assurances that I genuinely wish to help during a terrible situation.” Winston offered an ambiguous smile, one he hoped Andronico would have difficulty determining as sympathetic or the triumph of a circling predator. “Please accept my condolences that your conflict of interest involvement with Telum Armaments has become public knowledge. Voting to award a contract to a company you own shares in must surely have derailed your ambition to become Chancellor. Such an unfortunate time for this revelation to come to light.”

  Andronico’s lip trembled in anger and he required a calming breath before speaking. “I have nothing to do with that company.”

  “You mistake my intent. I’m not criticizing your involvement with a leading manufacturer located in your constituency. Only that your fellow parliamentarians learned of it so soon after announcing your candidacy for Chancellor. I applaud your connection to a successful enterprise. I myself have investments spread among various corporations, even though many in my profession view such diversification as a betrayal of my own company.”

  “I’m innocent of these ludicrous charges. The accusations are nothing more than defamation against my character, and I will find those responsible for this malicious rumor.”

  “Calm yourself, Mr. Balotti. Your trial hasn’t started yet, and I’m not here to levy judgment on you. The idea that politicians need to divest themselves of all business dealings is an outdated and limiting practice in fact, completely at odds with a society that encourages success and personal achievement above all else. You aren’t guilty of any mistakes, and perhaps one day your involvement in a corporation creating jobs for your constituents will bring applause rather than criticism.”

  Andronico bristled hearing his words and Winston felt satisfied to see the normally stoic and composed politician become rattled and verge on an outburst. Not so unflappable in the face of adversity it seemed, which hardly made him the most qualified figure to lead the entire Confederacy. Winston was doing humanity a favor by sabotaging Jiaying’s potential rivals.

  “Return to whatever overpriced hotel you’re luxuriating in,” Andronico snapped. “And stay out of Parliamentary business. Leave governing the Confederacy to those of us who are qualified.”

  The President of the Treasury Board departed without another word, his mouth contorted in a permanent sneer of derision. Winston imagined Andronico disdained corporate executives such as himself, seeing them as vicious, self-serving villains who needed to be kept underfoot to ensure they played fair. Yet Winston and Triaxus had created more jobs and opportunities for the downtrodden than any person in Parliament. A pity he faced scrutiny and criticism on a scale unknown to a typical politician.

  Winston continued following hallways and rode a swift elevator more than five hundred floors to a grand lobby of gardens and fountains.

  Alessandro waited for him nearby, sending messages to subordinates and business partners. He noticed Winston approaching and lowered his UpLink. “Mr. Vanderlin.”

  “Make a mental note to watch Andronico Balotti closely,” Winston affirmed. “He has the hallmark appearance of an animal backed into a corner, readying to pounce on those who dismiss him as a threat.”

  “He’s lost considerable influence after being tainted by the Telum Armaments scandal.”

  “Andronico will regain his ability to sway minds. People have disturbingly short-term memories. He only needs to be included in an article about reducing poverty or giving puppies to orphans and he’ll be in everyone’s good graces again. Perhaps it’s for the best if we conjure another potential scandal for him, should he ever act against my interests.”

  “Speaking of which, we have a plan in place to discredit Jeong Seo-hyeon, the Parliamentary Speaker of the House.”

  “Ah, excellent. Jiaying will be relieved her bid for the chancellorship lost another contender. What do you have in mind?”

  “Though estranged from her partner, Seo-hyeon has three grown children. The youngest is a recent university graduate, while the eldest is thirty-four and working as a financial analyst. We’ve arranged for evidence showing Ms. Jeong granted favorable concessions to her children in breach of anti-nepotism laws and that she paid a considerable stipend to her eldest daughter for work that was never performed. Forged documents will show her daughter was hired as a consultant and received payment without having done the job.”

  “Payment courtesy of tax-payer funds, I presume,” Winston said.

  “Naturally.”

  “That’ll rile up the masses. No scandal like one suggesting tax money was misspent.”

  “She may eventually be cleared of wrongdoing, but her reputation will be toxic during the foreseeable future. If Ms. Jeong still hopes to attain the chancellorship, she won’t have the political clout for at least another term.”

  “At that point the struggle for power is no longer our concern,” Winston asserted. “Let Jiaying fend off the circling piranhas on her own five years from now.”

  “The programing is in place and can be triggered whenever we wish.”

  “Seo-hyeon hasn’t officially announced her candidacy, though nothing was ever gained through reactionary decision-making. Trigger the leak tonight to ensure every news channel has the story during the morning commute tomorrow. We’ll silence her announcement before it happens.”

  “I’ll see to it, sir.” Alessandro consulted his UpLink and scrolled through files. “Rear Admiral Salamanca reports operational readiness in his role liaising with our forces and is satisfied in regards to their preparations.”

  “Then it’s time we move our schedule ahead,” Winston commanded. “Contact Echo Flotilla. Instruct all ships to launch Operation Shadow Scythe.”

  Chapter 16

  Alexis stood on the Solar Flare’s bridge, staring through the viewport at a beautiful world of azure oceans, rugged coastlines and golden deserts ringed by swirling clouds. No orbiting stations or monumental artificial constructs on its surface tarnished the peaceful, natural splendor of Thoth, and minimal communication and weather satellites ringed the planet. Only eight hundred million citizens lived here on the fourth world of Helios, one of two stars in the Heliades binary system.
If Alexis could peer through their stern hull Clymene would be visible, a far brighter blue star orbited by Coventina and Morrigan. The latter planet housed both the Confederacy Ascendant Starfleet and Directorate of Espionage and Counterintelligence, from where the potentially treasonous data they held originated.

  Connor tensed his shoulders and held the yoke tight. “Is anyone else profoundly uncomfortable being here?”

  “More than you’ll ever know,” murmured Kyla.

  “Not me,” Alexis declared.

  Connor cast a sidelong scowl at her. “Try to remember this isn’t a welcome homecoming for all of us.”

  “We wouldn’t be here at all if Alexis hadn’t contacted her politician friend,” Taylor affirmed. “Speaking of which, what is this bloke’s name?”

  “Richard Tomlinson,” she answered.

  “Uh-huh. And why isn’t dear Richard on Jiaolong with his cronies and co-conspirators? I thought all Parliamentary business was done on the capital world.”

  “That’s the benefit of representing a planet in this system. His office is on Thoth, and he shuttles to Jiaolong when Parliament meets or votes on issues. He can travel between worlds in less than an hour if something comes up without warning.” Alexis offered the captain a practiced glower. “And he isn’t a conspirator.”

  “So you claim.”

  “That used to be enough to convince you.”

  “I’ve become more cynical of late. Consider it the influence of intelligence operatives and getting my ship shot at far too often. Tends to harden a man, make him crotchety and paranoid.”

  “Incoming transmission,” announced Connor. “Which I suppose I’m handling since Alexis is too busy being wistful and nostalgic.”

  “Just put the communication through,” said Taylor. “Whinge later if the mood strikes you.”

  Though sardonically sullen, Connor queued their transceiver and a voice emerged on the bridge: “Attention Stingray-class light freighter Saturn’s Pride, this is the Thoth Air Traffic Regulatory Commission. You are not cleared to approach on this vector. Change your heading to a course permitted for civilian vessels.”