by J. L. Doty
Telka had also pieced together a fairly good idea of the rest of Charlie’s activities, confronted him with them. A frown appeared on Del’s face and it deepened as she listened to the older woman. To get Telka’s cooperation, Charlie had to tell her about the hunter-killers. To Telka and Thessa’s credit, neither of them showed the skepticism that others had.
“You didn’t tell me about these new ships,” Del demanded angrily. “How dare you, after what we agreed to this evening.”
“I told you about the alliance and Starfall’s defenses,” Charlie said. “It never occurred to me you’d care about ships.”
Telka’s eyes narrowed; she looked from Charlie to Del and back again. Then she turned to Rierma. “They’re lovers, aren’t they?”
Del blushed almost scarlet, and Rierma said, “Pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely not,” Del said. “Not if he’s going to keep secrets like that from me.”
Telka smiled, took one of Del’s hands, and said, “Don’t try to fool an old woman, my dear.”
Rierma asked, “And what did you two agree to this evening?”
Del’s eyes widened and she looked at Charlie. He knew they both looked like a couple of guilty children. She took a deep breath in an obvious effort to calm herself. Then she carefully repeated her reasoning for why Charlie was the only possible choice for a husband. “The perfect compromise candidate, and we’re betrothed. But we’re not lovers, not yet.” She said that almost defiantly.
Telka asked, “But what of your betrothal to Dieter?”
Charlie told them about Cesare’s sneaky gift of the right to choose Del’s husband. And after a few questions about its authenticity, Rierma slapped Charlie on the back. “Congratulations are in order, my boy. And, I must admit, you are the only candidate that none of us will try to have assassinated. At least not right away.”
Before they got down to any serious planning, Charlie said, “I should get Arthur in here.”
Rierma frowned. “Arthur? I thought he was kidnapped by pirates.”
Charlie grimaced and mumbled quietly, “Avast ye maties. Shiver ye timbers, and all that stuff.”
Rierma shook his head and his frown deepened. Telka burst into roars of laughter, with tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re also Raul the Damned? Is there even such a thing as the Mexak League?”
Charlie told them about Drakwin. They all got a good laugh out of it, and Telka said, “You’re a sneakier son-of-a-bitch than your father.” Even Del calmed down, and didn’t seem to mind that he’d forgotten to tell her that secret as well.
After Arthur joined them, to Charlie’s complete surprise, he learned that Telka had already formed an alliance with Rierma, Band, Harrimo, and Sig. “Chelko is too hotheaded,” she said. “We can’t trust him to be discreet so we’ll bring him in at the last minute.”
Charlie also learned their alliance had twenty warships stationed in deep space seven light-years off Andyne-Borregga. “You and this space station are the only things holding this coalition together, so we’ve decided its defense is paramount.”
That was something Charlie had been worrying about for some time now. Thessa and Arthur would review the station’s defenses with an eye to coordination with the added warships, and during the next month they’d marshal their forces here in preparation for an assault on the Four Tyrants.
“Please,” Del said. “Don’t harm my father and mother.”
“My dear,” Telka said kindly. “Your parents need to be . . . contained . . . not murdered.”
They discussed more strategy, and while Charlie was open about pretty much everything, two things he managed to conceal from them were the warships that Roger had found on platform twelve and the improved state of his finances. Telka might object to such a strong king, and Charlie might lose his carefully nurtured status as a compromise candidate. The funny thing was, he really didn’t care all that much about being king.
He just didn’t want to mess up the chance to marry Del.
Arthur mentioned that they needed to have one of the hunter-killers continue gunrunning for the Syndonese insurgents. Del, Thessa, Rierma, and Telka all started, looking at Charlie with expressions ranging from surprise to calculating assessment. Del asked, “You mean you’re behind that, too?”
CHAPTER 29
TRUTH EMERGES
“Your Grace, we’ve detected several transition wakes incoming at about five light-years. They’re at the extreme limit of our detection range, so it’s difficult to make out any details yet, but they’re driving hard enough to be warships.”
Charlie sat up in bed, rubbed at his eyes, and tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head. It took him a moment to remember he was back on Luna, had only returned from Andyne-Borregga two days ago. He looked at his watch; it was the middle of the night.
“I’ll be right there,” he told Pelletier. Charlie stopped only to splash some water on his face and throw on some clothes.
Pelletier had dramatically transformed the command center. An operator now sat at every console, and a buzz of activity filled the air, while Pelletier occupied an office to one side of the main room. “We’ve got about a day and a half,” Pelletier said as Charlie stepped into his office. Anticipating Charlie’s next question, he added, “And no, they’re still not close enough for any details.”
“What’s the status on our defenses?”
“Progress on the Lunan surface batteries has gone better than expected. We’ve got twenty fully operational, and those are big transition batteries, so they can easily punch through the shielding on a large battleship. And each includes a couple of defensive emplacements.
“The orbital weapons platforms are coming up more slowly because we’ve focused a lot of attention on Luna Prime, but we’ve got eight fully operational, and those platforms carry a lot of firepower as well.
“The ships are problematic. Roger’s gone through the four heavy cruisers, checked them out fully, and they’re all capable of operating at between seventy and ninety percent effectiveness, with no failures in major subsystems.”
“Well, that’s not too bad,” Charlie said. “After six months on deep space patrol, the best of ships is usually down to seventy-five, maybe eighty percent effectiveness.”
Pelletier shook his head. “The problem is crews. We’ve cherry-picked enough experienced spacers from the other defensive stations to make up a crew and a half for the big cruisers, and we’re still completely missing some specialists’ ratings. Roger’s reviewing the qualifications on the spacers you brought back from Andyne-Borregga, but he’s only just started.”
For several seconds Charlie stared at the data Pelletier showed him, but couldn’t escape the painful truth that years of experience told him. “We can’t put those ships into combat, if it comes to that—not with new crews that haven’t had a chance to shake down yet. That would be disastrous. But maybe there’s a way they don’t have to fight. Maybe they don’t need to be dangerous.”
“How’s that, Your Grace?”
Charlie grinned. “They just need to look dangerous.”
“It looks like ten wakes, sir,” the technician said, carefully examining the data on his screens. Charlie, Winston, and Pelletier stood behind him looking over his shoulder. “And I’d guess that two of them are large battleships, with some cruisers and destroyers thrown into the mix.”
“How far out?” Charlie asked.
“Point-one light-year, Your Grace. Decelerating strongly, I’d say down-transition within the next few minutes, depending upon how they want to play it.”
Pelletier’s command center reminded Charlie of the bridge of a ship, though this ship commanded far more firepower than any warship. But like on any warship, they spent most of their time waiting.
Charlie asked, “Everything in place?”
&
nbsp; Pelletier looked over the technician’s shoulder at the screen. Charlie knew Pelletier was nervous about the situation, but professional enough not to show it to his people. “The surface batteries and the shielding for this installation are at full combat status. The platforms, the four cruisers, and The Headsman are keeping power drain down, but can come to full combat status in about ten minutes.”
“Good.”
“Not really, sir. If someone knew to look, they could detect them from the edge of our nearspace, and I don’t like that.”
“What’s done is done. No use worrying over it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Sir,” the technician said. “They’re about two minutes out from our nearspace, sir, and not leapfrogging, so it’s not an attack run.”
Charlie looked at the data on the screen in front of the technician. He was right. If it had been an attack run, they’d have long ago down-transited a destroyer so it could uplink scan, nav, and targeting data to the other ships still in transition.
“Sir, they’re crossing into nearspace now, and . . .” The technician checked his data. “ . . . holding at forty lights, driving into the system in transition.”
Charlie could sense relief wash over everyone in the center. No one would make such an approach if they thought any significant defensive capability might oppose them.
“There we go, sir, they just down-transited at twelve AUs. I got ten clear transition flares.” The technician worked intently at his console for a few moments. “Looks like two battleships, four heavy cruisers, and four destroyers, and . . . definitely de Maris.”
Another ten minutes passed while they confirmed the technician’s observations. “They’re driving at point-eight lights and decelerating at just under two thousand gravities, sir. That should put them here at Luna with velocity matched in just over four hours.”
“I’ve got an incoming signal, sir,” another technician said. “The Duke de Maris wishes to speak with the Duke de Lunis.”
“Put it through to my implants, blind copy Winston, and record.”
Theode’s image appeared in front of him. “Charlie, dear brother,” Theode said. “I’ve come to pay my respects.”
Charlie asked, “With a small fleet of warships?”
“Of course, dear brother. How else should one of the most powerful men in the Realm travel, but with a proper retinue? My officers tell me you have Starfall’s surface shielding active. Now is that any way to greet your dear brother?”
“It’s not a greeting, Theode, merely a precaution. We had no idea who was approaching.”
Theode smiled, though it was more a sneer. “Well, it’s a precaution that’s no longer necessary now that you know it’s me, so cut the power feed to Starfall’s shielding.”
“I won’t do that until I know your intentions.”
“My intentions are to visit my beloved brother. And active shields are a rather inhospitable way of welcoming me, don’t you think? So cut the shields, or I’ll cut them with heavy bombardment. We both know that without other defenses, those shields will only hold for so long.”
Charlie glanced at Winston, his look a silent question. “It’s borderline,” Winston said. “It’s much cleaner if he makes a hard threat once the shields are down, and especially if he personally threatens you.” He and Charlie had discussed this at some length. If it was one of the Ten coming at them, even with a small fleet of warships, there would be unpleasant ramifications if Charlie fired the first shot without provocation. On the other hand, if he could get his guest to make an open threat, Charlie would be free to act. And while the Ten might not support him fully, any repercussions after the fact would be limited.
Charlie turned to Pelletier. “Cut the shields.”
Pelletier didn’t try to hide his unhappiness as he gave the order. But he was a seasoned officer and knew not to challenge a superior’s order. And in any case, they could bring the shields back up in an instant.
“That’s much better,” Theode said, the sneer unchanged. “My officers tell me we’ll arrive in a little less than four hours, and I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful reunion. I do hope you show better hospitality than you’ve shown so far.”
They parked the ten warships in high orbits around Terra, Luna’s primary. Theode had brought Gaida, and while Theode strutted through the halls of Starfall, Gaida followed him radiating cold disapproval of Charlie and everything associated with him. Theode also brought a bodyguard of twelve armed soldiers, men with a hard look about them. Since Charlie didn’t recognize any of them, he concluded they were mercenaries.
Theode insisted on a grand tour of Starfall. At one point, standing on a high balcony overlooking the sterile Lunar landscape, he said, “When you’re gone I think I’ll use Starfall as a vacation retreat. It boasts wonderful vistas.”
Charlie glanced at Winston, who responded with a slight shake of his head—still not enough.
Theode made other veiled references to Charlie’s demise, but never came out with an outright threat, and he clearly enjoyed Charlie’s helplessness in the matter. After the tour Gaida said, “Well, you’ve made the place reasonably comfortable. You can show us to our rooms now.”
Charlie had thought about this carefully, had structured the tour so they finished in one of the large ballrooms in Starfall, a room with many entrances on all sides. “Rooms? I’m not providing you with rooms. Surely you know you’re not invited to stay.”
Theode snarled, “It’s not up to you to decide if we stay or not. We’re staying.”
“But it is up to me. I am the consecrated lord of this house, and by law, in this house and on these properties, my word is law.”
Theode’s temper was actually rather easy to manipulate. He shouted, “Your word is nothing, whoreson. Your word is worth only what I say it is, and my word is backed by these men here.” He swept out an arm, indicating the mercenaries. “And the warships I have in orbit.”
Charlie smiled, a grin meant to aggravate Theode further. “Are you threatening me, Twerp?”
Theode turned a vivid red, leaned toward Charlie, and shouted in his face, spittle flying from his lips as he spoke. “I told you never to call me that, you son of a poxed whore. I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you the facts. Your days of pretending at nobility are through. I’m here to put an end to you and the games you’ve been playing with that Chevard fellow.”
That was an interesting comment. The Four Tyrants must have assumed Charlie was working with Edwin Chevard. He was glad they hadn’t truly put all the pieces together yet.
“Theode,” Gaida said, “calm yourself.”
Her words might have had some effect, but Charlie widened his grin even further and said, “So, Twerp, you’re going to kill me, is that it?”
Theode’s voice had grown hoarse from screaming. “I’m going to do worse than kill you. You’re going to die slow.”
Charlie looked at Winston, who nodded and said, “That should do it nicely.”
Charlie stepped back from Theode as if in fear. He subvocalized into his implants, “Pelletier, phase one.”
Theode stepped forward, still red-faced with rage and screaming uncontrollably in Charlie’s face. For each step he took, Charlie back-stepped, allowing Theode to drive him across the room, slowly putting distance between them and the mercenaries. Winston, to whom no one paid any attention, stepped back against a far wall, leaving Gaida and the mercenaries isolated in the middle of the room. It was then that Charlie’s squad of thirty marines, in full combat armor and carrying heavy grav rifles, appeared from several directions at once with their weapons lowered, surrounding the mercenaries. Two marines stepped in front of Winston, shielding him against possible fire from the mercenaries. Two more stepped behind Theode, shielding him and Charlie from the mercenaries, though with his back to the entire tableau Theode was wholly
unaware of the situation and continued his tirade.
Charlie thought of Arthur’s treatment in Theode’s hands. And he thought of Cesare, and knew that Theode and Gaida must have had something to do with his father’s death. And finally he thought about all the times Theode had called his mother a whore, and all his restraint fell away.
Almost calmly, he reached out, gripped Theode’s throat, and squeezed, cutting the rant off in midsentence. Theode choked. Charlie squeezed harder and Theode thrashed at him, his eyes bulging and face turning purple. Charlie wanted to kill the bastard, knew he had enough strength, backed by enough anger, to crush the little shit’s windpipe right then and there. He knew he could do it, but then he saw Winston standing on the far side of the room, quietly shaking his head from side to side. He hesitated, realized that if he didn’t do this proper and legal, he’d never be able to reinstate Arthur.
He tossed Theode in a tumble of arms and legs at Add’s and Ell’s feet, and said, “Keep him quiet.”
Faced with overwhelming force, the mercenaries, characteristically inclined to self-preservation as all mercenaries were, raised their hands and did not resist. Charlie’s marines quickly disarmed and cuffed them. Add held Theode while Ell held Gaida, so they didn’t need cuffs. Theode screamed, “You can’t do this. This is illegal.”
Winston said calmly, “But it is legal, Your Grace. Since you threatened Duke Charles with murder in his own house, he is at liberty to exercise rather extraordinary powers.”
Theode screamed a few epithets at Winston until Charlie said to Add, “Please shut him up.”
As Charlie turned to Ell and Gaida, he heard Theode’s tirade cut off with a choked gurgle. Gaida gave him an arrogant look and said, “I did not threaten you, whoreson. So detaining me is illegal.”
“But you did just slander me, a member of the Ten. I can’t stand here in my own house and allow such a thing to go unchallenged.” Charlie said to Ell, “Put her under deep neural probe. I want it on record how Cesare really died. We’ll worry about the legalities of it later.”
