“Masterson again, I presume?” she asked with flat indifference and a toss of her silver hair.
Zier glared back at her but said nothing.
“Don’t act so surprised, husband. The commandant has seized every opportunity to cross you since you sent that woman of his to the Prelyn.”
“What happened to her was not my fault,” Zier protested. “Her affair with Masterson was an embarrassment to this family’s name, to say nothing of our daughter’s reputation, and she had to go. If I could change the circumstances, I would. But that doesn’t change the fact that Delarla Reese’s death on that frigate was an accident.” He paused and huffed. “As for our darling little girl’s reputation…Well, she sullied that all by herself.”
“Yes, because gods forbid our daughter actually finds a little happiness in this life,” Charlotte muttered behind her book.
So says one narcissist of another, Zier wanted to say. And you…you ungrateful nag of a drunken shrew…You wonder where she gets it from.
Zier turned away and rubbed a weary palm over his wrinkled forehead. The Kamuir would hit orbit in less than two hours, and if the information he’d just received was any indication, there would be plenty to discuss when it did. Assuming, of course, that anyone would actually want to discuss it—a tall order given the circumstances. Whispers were already swirling around parliament about Masterson’s triumphant return from the Rynzer Expanse having made some sort of major discovery. Beyond that, though, little else was known. Once word got out that said discovery was, in fact, a fully functional piece of C-100 technology, given to the Kamuir by an alien race ready to share its entire arsenal in exchange for an alliance with the empire…Well, that’s when the spin machine would kick in and everything would change.
“Faster ships, indestructible armor, and weapons befitting a god,” the Sun’s coverage would herald, “all free to the empire and just in time to win the war, thanks to Alystier’s new friends, the Kurgorians.”
After that, the pressure on parliament to ratify a treaty with these people—whoever they were—would be such that no minister wanting to keep his seat would dare vote against it.
And therein, Zier thought, lies the root of most of Alystier’s problems.
“So,” Charlotte chirped from the sofa, tipping the wine bottle over her glass. “Once Masterson has returned to Eurial, what are your intentions?”
Zier gave her a look but didn’t answer.
“I know of the aliens he met in the expanse. I overheard part of the communiqué from your office. I also know of the ship he’s bringing back with him…the C-100. You and I both know how things will play out once word spreads of this. You have to have a response to that, Lucius. You have to.”
“And how, exactly, would you have me respond?” Zier asked with dripping sarcasm. “By falling onto my face and praising the hallowed name of Alystier’s heroic commandant for usurping my authority to gain access to it?”
“Worth considering. Say what you will of his methods, the truth remains that, yet again, Masterson has succeeded when the empire needed it most. He’s brought our scientists a fully operational C-100 ship for study, something you’ve been unable to do since the ASC launched its Mako platform and subsequently retook control of the war.”
“And what lesson should we take from that, my dear?” Zier shot back. “That my inability to steal our enemy’s technology makes me an inept leader, or that our developers’ inability to match it makes us inept as a fighting force?”
Charlotte gave him a twisted smirk. “Oh, please. Don’t start with this nonsense again.”
“Dismiss it all you like, but our lack of C-100 technology is not the fault of my administration. Nor, for that matter, is it the fault of our scientists who, frankly, are every bit as capable as their Auran counterparts. It’s because we, as an empire, refuse to get out of their way and let them do what they do best—innovate! We suffocate them in a bureaucratic stranglehold of rules, regulations, and corrupted oversight, but then we expect them to outpace Auran R&D with half the resources and triple the red tape! Real progress doesn’t occur under these kinds of restrictions. Not socially, technologically, nor scientifically. It simply can’t.”
“It’s how we’ve always operated, Lucius. Whether they’re scientists, soldiers, doctors, or civilians, people need order or else there’s chaos. Establishing that order requires leadership, and it’s the role of parliament to give them that leadership and guide their efforts to fruition for the good of the collective. It’s been that way from the beginning.”
Zier raised a concessionary hand. “Indeed, and in the early days it had to be. We were a fledgling nation on a hostile alien world, with no infrastructure or support, and it was up to the leaders of that expedition to give our people direction and purpose—if for no other reasons than to keep spirits up and keep our people safe. But that’s not the case anymore, is it? We’ve grown, more so than the founders could’ve ever dreamed possible. Only the parliament we’ve built in response has become so abhorrently unwieldy that it’s not nurturing that development at all. It’s choking it!”
Charlotte’s wizened expression crinkled even further. “I still don’t see what this has to do with solving our caldrasite problem.”
“We should be making more of an effort to include industry from the outer systems. Think about it, Charlotte. We’ve brought countless new societies under our banner in the last half-century—societies filled with new minds and fresh ideas, ideas that could propel us into the next millennium if we’d stop treating their owners like second-class citizens and had allowed them into the market. But we don’t. We call them part of the empire, but when push comes to shove, we alienate them with brutish levies and bastardized legislation like that damned Doering Bill, then we wonder why our ships still float about the cosmos on forty-year-old specs.” Zier’s look turned rueful. “For gods’ sakes, look at what we did to Detron City on Marlon 3. Do you realize what kind of an asset that city could’ve been for us had we actually supported it rather than cutting its legs out from under it? Talk about failed leadership!”
Charlotte snorted. “You speak of leadership as if you even know what the word means. Need I remind you that this war may well have been over by now if you’d done the right thing by our people and supported it from the outset? Then parliament wouldn’t have had to force you into a corner for its official declaration.”
“Please.” Zier snorted. “You and I both know this war was never about doing right by our people. Not those without parliamentary bank accounts, anyway.”
“Whatever.” Charlotte threw her hands up. “The only legs I see being cut anymore are Masterson’s. The man does everything in his power to defeat our enemies, and yet you, in your infinite wisdom as leader, deny him what he needs to get the job done. Now, here he comes again with another tool to change things, and you’d strike that down because of the means by which he procured it? Hear me, husband, and hear me well. If you value your position as chancellor, you’ll set aside these senseless—and some might say treasonous—ideals of yours and work with the commandant to use this technology for our benefit. If you do not, don’t be surprised when two-thirds of parliament backs him as your replacement.”
Zier glared at his wife. “I make no promises. We’ll investigate the situation as we always do. We’ll find out who these Kurgorians are—what they want in exchange for their aid—and then I’ll render my decision. But not before. Nothing is free, Charlotte. You know that as well as I. These people want something, and until we know what that is, I will not, as chancellor, move us into an alliance with them. And neither you, the Eurial Sun, nor those power-hungry vultures of parliament will change that!”
Charlotte’s head fell back in laughter—a shrill, mocking chortle that, once upon a time, Zier recalled, had actually been rather pleasant to hear, before she’d grown old and bitter. “So ‘hurry up and wait’ is your message,” Charlotte crowed. “Typical. And you wonder why the people of this emp
ire have turned against you. They want a man of action to lead them, noble husband! A man of courage and conviction…not a man who cringes at the thought of conflict then cowers behind a curtain of inaction disguised as due diligence to avoid it. Masterson gives them that action, Lucius, and that’s why they adore him so.”
“He gives them rhetoric. Nothing more.”
“Maybe,” Charlotte said, her words coming like acid now. “But that doesn’t make his message any less true. As Alystierians, we pander to no one, and it’s high time you remember that. We take what we need, and if what these aliens offer will win us victory over Aura then, by the gods, we accept it, cost be damned, because in the end that’s all that matters. Alec Masterson knows this.” She raised a single, skeletal finger and aimed it at him. “Your father knew this.”
And there it is, Zier thought. Her favorite go-to swipe in her long-standing arsenal of emasculation: invoking the sacred name of the great Clayton Zier, hero of the Beyonder War, visionary founder of the empire, and for Lucius, sole conjurer of one hell of a shadow.
Still, the Alystierian chancellor remained calm.
“Times change,” Zier said. “Our people deserve strong leadership, yes, but they also deserve our respect. They’re not fools. Consider that, my darling wife, the next time you care to lecture me from atop your radical-fundamentalist soapbox.” Then, with a final glare, he turned for the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to your wine.”
* * * * *
Chapter 16: Return
Sitting next to Katie and Madisyn on the Larrin’s bridge, Danny shifted anxiously in his seat and returned his attention to the main viewer in time to see the bright blue translucence of hyperspace transition back to stars.
“Hyperspace exit complete,” the helmsman called. “Sublight propulsion is engaged and standing by.”
Danny sucked in a lungful of air and blew it out, his stomach having concluded what he hoped would be its final cartwheel of the five-day voyage back from Earth.
“So, I’m gonna step out on a limb here and guess that this never really gets old.” Katie had apparently noticed his mild shade of green.
Danny swallowed and shook out the last of his nerves. “Nah, just a personal phobia thing, I guess. Something about the whole ‘darting between galaxies on a wing and a meticulously-calculated nav-com prayer’ thing never really squared with me.”
“Behold the brave warrior,” Madisyn said from the seat next to Katie.
Guess somebody’s still a bit sore about tonight’s plans, Danny almost said, but he kept it to himself.
The scene in the main viewer swept hard to port and stabilized on a giant blue sphere that looked starkly similar to the one they’d left behind five days ago.
“Aura, I take it?” Katie asked.
“The one and only,” Danny said.
Katie shook her head in astonishment. “Man, it really does look like Earth. Take away a few of the land masses, and you’d swear they’re the same planet.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Danny said. “You’ll see plenty of differences once we hit the surface later.”
The comm officer in front reached for his terminal. “Praetorian,” he said. “This is the AS Larrin requesting permission to dock. Over.”
Static crackled, then: “Welcome home, Larrin,” a woman responded. “Praetorian is standing by for ID-Code authentication. Proceed when ready.”
“Copy that,” the comm officer said. “Transmitting IDC now.”
“Holy crap, that’s a big ship,” Katie gasped, spotting the long gray block of ASC’s legendary flagship as it came closer.
“Wait’ll you see the Harkens,” Danny said. “She’s on deep-space runs right now to shake out the last of her prototype bugs, so I’m not sure you’ll get the chance. But she dwarfs the Praetorian by a solid thirty meters.”
Watching the Praetorian loom closer in the viewer, Danny saw Katie’s eyes begin to drift toward the extensive collection of scars and patches that littered the carrier’s hull.
“Looks like she’s seen been out here a while,” Katie said.
“Oh yeah,” Danny said. “She’s been around the block, all right. The Praetorian was the first-ever ship to be built under the old Horizon-class specs, and even now with the second generation coming out, she’s still the gold standard as far as most of us are concerned.”
“You seen much of that?” Katie asked. “Her action, I mean.”
“Some,” Danny said. “But not much with her. Infantry guys aren’t stationed on one ship or another. We tend to bounce around a lot depending on where we’re needed. Hamish and Wyatt, on the other hand, are full-timers on the Praetorian crew, so they’d be the ones to ask—Wyatt especially.”
Katie nodded then returned her focus to the massive carrier ahead.
The Larrin concluded its parallel-docking sequence as most of the crew—Danny, Madisyn, and Katie included—made their way down to the main hatch on C deck for disembarkation.
“Coming through, geniuses!” Link’s voice announced from somewhere behind them.
Turning to look in that direction, Danny saw the butt of a raised suitcase knife through the crowd just in front of Layla’s head. “Relax, Short Round. You can cut the whining act. We’re home.”
“Easy for you to say, man, you’re not the one carrying his weight in frickin’ clothes here.” Link labored out a final grunt then ka-thunked the suitcase onto the deck at his wife’s feet. “Baby, you’re the mother of my kids, and I love you with all of my heart and soul…but damn it! Will there ever come a day when we touch down in Florida without the need for a door-busting shopping spree at O’dele’s? I mean, come on!”
Layla cocked her head. “That’s very funny, love, but you weren’t complaining last night when I modeled it for you in our quarters.”
“Busted,” Danny coughed into his fist.
“Suck it, Crockett,” Link said. “I’m sorry if this makes me a cheap bastard, but you’ll excuse me if I’d rather not see every last cent of my PGC cash sucked down the crapper on eveningwear and matching shoes!”
“Need I remind you that your suit for our wedding came from O’dele’s,” Layla said with a wink, “and my, oh my, wasn’t that money well spent.”
Link waggled a finger at his wife. “Hey…don’t objectify me.”
“Okay, so on that note,” Madisyn said, “some of us would really like to get home.”
* * *
Crossing through the final junction onto E Deck, Danny, Madisyn, and Katie arrived in one of the Praetorian’s three auxiliary shuttle bays, where one of the deckhands had prepped a short-range transport to take them down to the surface.
“Where’re we headed, anyway?” Katie asked, climbing through the hatch and into one of the four seats behind the cockpit.
“We’re putting you up at my place in Retaun,” Madisyn said. “The Praetorian will be in orbit for another few days if you want to shuttle back up. But trust me, life on a starship can get pretty bland after a while.”
“Retaun?” Katie shifted to a window seat and buckled in. “That’s Aura’s capital city, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Madisyn said from the seat next to her.
“Madisyn keeps an apartment in the Bahr District downtown,” Danny said from the cockpit, already into his pre-flight sequence. “You’ll have no shortage of stuff to do there, and most of it well within walking distance—food, shopping, museums, and so forth. Everything else is just a quick jaunt west via the ATA.”
“ATA?” Katie asked.
“Auran Transit Authority.” Danny brightened. “Oh, if you make it over to the Harbor District, there’s the incredible little deli right off the platform that makes the best bread in the city. Seriously, I lived off of this place for a week after Madisyn introduced me to it.”
“Sounds great,” Katie said. “Almost like someplace back home, even.”
“In some ways,” Danny said, relaying their green status to the flight co
ntroller upstairs. Soon after, the gray scene of the shuttle bay outside returned to that of stars. “Trust me, though, Retaun has more than enough of its own personality to go around. But you’ll have the next two weeks to explore all of that yourself.”
“That actually reminds me,” Katie said. “You guys don’t ship out for Madisyn’s conference until tomorrow, right?”
“That’s right,” Madisyn said.
“Got any plans for tonight?”
“As a matter of fact,” Danny said.
That earned him a fresh eye roll from his girlfriend.
“I totally just stepped in something, didn’t I?” Katie asked.
“Nah, it’s nothing.” Danny began their descent. “It’s just that my guys made some plans for me tonight that I kinda can’t break.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Katie said. “Hey look, I totally get it if you guys need to—”
“Oh, no, no,” Madisyn said. “Believe me, you couldn’t possibly be more invited. For one, I’d like the company. For another, Danny might need a second doctor by the end of the night.”
“Yeah, that can’t be good,” Katie said. “Can I ask what we’re doing?”
“Nothing huge,” Danny said. “It’s just a little outing with the boys, is all.”
Madisyn frowned. “If by ‘outing with the boys’ you mean grown men beating the holy hell out of each other for little more than beer, credits, groupies, and alpha-male supremacy among their fellow primates through a pointless exhibition of barbaric violence, then yes, you’d be spot on.”
“Gotta admit, though—” Danny grinned, “—if I pull this off, that’s some sweet travel change we get to take with us to Finley Springs. Reegan leveraged my former-champ status to get us a 60 percent cut of the purse on this one.”
“Good,” Madisyn said. “Should be just enough to cover your funeral.” After that, she sat back in her chair and began scribbling onto a pad.
Katie thought she felt a chill. Nope, didn’t step into anything at all, now, did I…
Red Sky Dawning Page 13
