“Good.” Ivan’s fingers flew over the console keys again. The family tree shrank and then joined a complex network of other families. The images comprised a flat disk, representing the relationships between families in decade slices. “These are the First Families and how intermarried they are. The brighter spots are Preferred ranks; the others are just Holders. The fringe elements are those situations where a child who is not in the line of inheritance has married someone outside the First Families, or has gone off world. Those are, in essence, dead ends.”
“Unless they were to somehow marry back in.”
“Very good.” Ivan turned in the chair. “Or if, by some grand act of value to the Planetary Board’s interests—including that of one of the major corporations—they earned back First Family status for their family. With people being this interrelated, it’s almost easier for a Corporate Personnel department to find a First Family connection than it is for a connection to be erased.”
Walter shook his head. This was a lot more than he’d ever wanted to learn about Dhivi society. “Are we closing in on what this facility is?”
“Yes.” Ivan hit a button, moving the disk to another monitor. “Now I’ll call up the same slice of time, but seen through the lens of this project.”
The new image that flashed up differed from the previous in two distinct ways. Within the main First Families disk, some of the links shifted. A number vanished and others appeared. In addition, the fringe lines tripled in number and connected out to small clusters which, in turn, sent tendrils back into the main disk.
“What am I looking at?”
“I thought it would be obvious—you suggested it three weeks ago.”
Walter squinted, then sat back. “This is a DNA chart.”
“For eighty years, this project has compiled criminal, medical and epidemiological databases into a sequenced DNA map of the Dhivi population. We have only a third of a billion people, and most of the data is collected at birth. All of those databases are legally separated from each other and the First Family Councils maintain constant vigilance to guarantee no one can put together a map like this. Further, every corporation has rules and regulations to prevent Personnel departments from garnering this information.” Ivan shrugged. “My family has been able to subvert those safeguards and has collected the data here.”
Walter got up and walked over to the monitor. “Something like this line here, it looks as if the Preferred child who inherited at this point wasn’t fathered by anyone in that family. In fact, that child is from this other family, and would be set to inherit a chunk of their corporation, not the family that claimed him.”
“And, remember, that’s a slice from my grandfather’s time as Planetary Chairman. In the last two generations that line has spread widely throughout the First Families. But look, the fringe is the more important thing.” Ivan hit more keys, painting a number of fringe lines in red. “These people are all of First Family blood, and Preferred at that, but the First Family Councils refuse to recognize them as such. And these people, they’re all good and smart and contribute—and are even of First Family blood—but are barred from even getting Holder status in the various corporations.”
Walter nodded. “Whether they know who they are or not, if they complain, they become ostracized and exiled. The families who want to get rid of them the most might be the very families from which they sprung.”
“Exactly. And to make any of this public would crash First Family corporations. It would cause incredible instability. For that reason, my grandfather declined to push for reform—several of the First Family Councils during his reign wielded great economic power. Various other corporations took steps to weaken those families. It’s taken a while, but things had progressed to a point that my father hoped to be able to begin the process of change. He wanted to first break primogeniture, but he died before he was able to make that a reality.”
“You intend to realize his dream? Our chat around the campfire wasn’t just a fantasy?”
“I truly meant what I said.” Ivan frowned. “You’ve met my sisters. You’re right: this system makes them chattel. They’re just bargaining chips to be traded with other families, to strengthen our ties. That is not right. If Abigail had been piloting Destrier today, they would have had to send a dozen fighters, and then a dozen more. And Sophia, can you imagine her being forced to bear children for someone who isn’t at least a tenth as smart as she is?”
“No.”
“Hence the need for reforms.”
“And this bumper crop of motives for murder. You realize, this means we have an incredible problem. Trying to kill you may not have been just an attempt to replace you. It may have been an attempt to bring down the entire societal structure.”
“But who?”
Walter jerked a thumb at the diagrams. “You can draw your suspects from anyone who is in power right now, or anyone who is not in power.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, and we’re down here, safe and sound, with no clue as to what’s happening out there.”
“I may be able to fix that. The site is completely isolated so that the data can’t be accessed remotely, but there are antennae and relays which allow the base to receive broadcast signals.” Ivan shifted to a different console. “I’ll see what I can get up here.”
One screen flashed to life briefly, then went to black. A box proclaiming “No signal detected” hovered in the middle. Ivan hit another key. The monitor shifted to black, then the legend appeared again. He repeated his search a half-dozen times, all with the same result.
He turned toward Walter, his face ashen. “That isn’t good, is it?”
No. But keep it together for him. Walter shrugged. “Might not be, or it might. I’ve never been part of a coup, but I’ve served on worlds mopping up after them. Half the time the government shuts down mass media to prevent panic, and the other half, well . . .”
“The rebels do it to hamper the government’s attempts at restoring order.” Ivan hugged his arms around his middle. “I read a very great deal, Walter—history and politics are more interesting than Lowland beetles. Right now I’m remembering things I wish I could forget.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is not going to be the best day of your life, but it’s also not going to be the last.”
A hissing filled the amphitheater as the media monitor brightened slowly. The image resolved itself into a cloaked and hooded human. Based on how his shoulders extended to the edges of the screen, Walter decided it was a man, but his face remained in shadows. His voice came low and strong, with only the barest strain of threat making it past electronic distortion.
“We are the Collective. We are the disenfranchised. We are those born to toil as cogs in the machines which are the corporations. We create their wealth. They deign to give us scraps, but deny us what we are due as humans. They have sowed the whirlwind, and now they have harvested it.”
The image shifted to an unstable black-and-white shot from a rooftop looking at the Litzau Enterprises corporate headquarters. A half-dozen aerospace fighters flew sorties over the target. Long-range missiles corkscrewed down into the structure, detonating with enough force that the image shook even harder. Explosions shattered ferrocrete, pitching dust and debris high into the air. Then the fighters’ lasers burned down through the smoke, melting the Lancer ’Mechs that had escaped the explosions.
Ivan reached a hand toward the screen. “Mother! Abigail!”
Walter wanted to vomit. Hake! Not the blaze of glory you wanted, my friend.
The voiceover continued as dust drifted down. “The First Families have now tasted the same death and humiliation they visited upon us. And to the north, our forces have slain the pretender Ivan.”
The image shifted to show black BattleMechs patrolling through Rivergaard. Smoke rose in the background, and shell-shocked citizens ma
rched along the streets, directed by soldiers with guns. “We have restored order, and are administering justice. The crimes of the past will not go unpunished; nor will the actions of reactionary forces that seek to perpetuate the inequality of a system which has been strangling our world for generations.”
The man in the hood reappeared. “We are the Collective. We will be issuing statements of policy in the coming days. To obey is to be free. To disobey is to declare fealty to Planetary Board corruption. To disobey is to incur our wrath. We bring you freedom and equality. Reject this gift at your peril.”
The screen went black again. When the notice about lack of signal reappeared, Walter felt a moment of relief, as if that bit of normality meant he could ignore the reality of what he’d seen.
He turned to Ivan, who now seemed smaller than ever. “Spurs, I, ah, I am sorry for the losses you have suffered.”
“And you, Walter.” Ivan stared at his boots. “I cannot believe my mother and my sister are gone. I hope Sophia got away, but . . .”
“I’m sure she did. The Lancers may have gone down in the air strike, but she was with the Angels, remember, at the garrison?”
“I hope you are right. I know your people were good, but I fear for my sister and the Angels . . .”
“Because?”
“The black ’Mechs on the screen, patrolling the streets.”
“I saw them. I didn’t recognize them.”
“I did.” Ivan swiped at tears. “Those were the Rivergaard Rangers. Richard Oglethorpe’s regiment.”
Walter’s mouth soured. “Your sister said three-quarters of the people at your corporate headquarters would have to die before Oglethorpe could claim chairmanship of the Planetary Board.”
“That appears to no longer be an obstacle.” Ivan looked up, eyes red. “What do I do, Walter? How do I make it right again?”
Chapter Ten
Lac du Vallee, Nyqvist Upland Preserve
Maldives
6 November 3000
“Do you actually expect an answer?”
Ivan stared at him, his expression becoming set. “Yes, I think I do.”
“No, you don’t.” Walter waved that idea away. “You feel that you have to ask that question, but if you actually think, you’ll know that’s not a question you should be asking at all.”
“That’s not true.”
“Sure it is.” The mercenary spun a chair around and seated himself with the chair’s back against his chest. “Right up until an hour ago you were the one who had defined the Final Vetting as a walking tour of the countryside. All you had to do was return with nothing more serious than a case of poison ivy and you’d succeed. You had no desire to prove to anyone that you were some mythical champion MechWarrior.”
“That’s . . . I didn’t . . .” Ivan’s face slackened and his lower lip began to quiver.
Good God, Walter, you’re an ass. He just lost his family and you’re making him cry. Walter forced his fists open. “Look, Spurs, couple of facts you’ve got to face here. Good news: you may never have wanted to be a MechWarrior, but out there, like I said before, you did something pretty much nobody does in their first time under fire. You kept it together. You got ambushed, and you didn’t lose your mind. You focused, you got us here in one piece, and your tactic of moving from one magnetic anomaly to another was brilliant. You used your head to push past panic and fear.
“Bad news is that here, in a safe place, you’re not thinking. You’re just feeling.”
Ivan pointed at the monitor. “You saw.”
“Yeah, I did. Your mother. Your sister, both probably dead.” Walter’s left hand curled into a fist. “Hake, my commander, he’s buried right along with them. And lots of other people you knew, and I probably met over the last three weeks.”
The Chairman Presumptive wiped his nose with his hand. “And your Angels.”
“Yeah, them, too. But, hey, maybe Sophia was able to get away, maybe they bought her some time and even made it out with her.”
“Your tone of voice . . . you don’t think that’s likely.”
“She’s sharp, they’re sharp, so if I had to bet . . .” Walter shrugged. “Keeping at least one of your sisters alive is good policy for the Collective. She can be married off to one of their leaders. While that might seem to run counter to revolutionary claims, it hitches back into the legitimacy of the old order and the tradition stuff you have going on. It gives some people a chance to believe things aren’t as bad as they are.”
Ivan’s brow furrowed. “I see the logic of that.”
“Good, Spurs, keep thinking. I need you thinking.” Walter ran a hand over his jaw. “We’re starting at zero here. We’ve got two ’Mechs, which is great, but we can’t do much without supplies for them.”
“We have ammunition and spare parts. Will that do?”
Walter blinked. “Seriously?”
“Not really a time for joking, is it?” The younger man nodded solemnly. “This was originally a Taurian facility; built before the war, halfway up a mountain, overlooking a river valley some glacier gouged into the landscape an ice age ago. During the war the Magistracy took out some hydroelectric dams to cut power to Rivergaard. The subsequent flood put the lake here, drowning this place. There are stores back in the ’Mech bay.”
“Okay, so we’re not at zero, but we’re not much above it.”
“Well, that allows me to calibrate my expectations.” Ivan’s frown intensified. “I believe you are thinking that we lack intelligence about the opposition, and this base’s isolation makes it difficult to gather data—save through what the Collective wishes to broadcast.”
“We have an even more immediate problem—we don’t know how close they are to finding us.”
“I see.” Ivan stood and began to pace. “When my family decided to reclaim this base, we did so after proclaiming it a natural preserve—the corporate tax advantages provided all the cover we needed. We imported workers, paid them for their silence and shipped them far away at the end of their employment. My great-grandfather then used computer information experts to systematically delete any references to this Taurian base wherever they were to be found. ComStar may have some records, but he went so far as to buy and steal heirloom books and then publish counterfeit replacements with all references deleted.”
“You’re telling me that no one knows of this place.”
“Yes.”
“Except your sister, Sophia.”
That stopped Ivan dead in his tracks. “She would never . . . but, of course, she could be compelled . . .”
“If they learn of this place—however they do it—they’ll be coming for us. We’re on a short timer. The only way we can leave is to learn enough to formulate some sort of a plan to escape.” Walter shrugged. “The ’Mech bay would be an interesting place to defend, but we’d lose against a determined assault.”
“I would concur with your assessment.” Ivan turned. “What do we need to do first?”
“Is there another way out of here?”
“A couple, actually. Well hidden, above us.”
“Okay, good.” Walter scratched at the back of his neck. “We need to find out how close they are to finding us. They have to investigate the team they lost, and flyovers aren’t going to do it. I need to go out and scout around. If I’m lucky I’ll see them and they won’t see me.”
The barest of smiles played on Ivan’s face. “I believe, Walter, here in the base we have the means to increase your efficiency and lower the risk. Please, follow me.”
Golden Prosperity Re-education Camp, Rivergaard
Maldives
8 November 3000
Sophia’s cheek ached, but she wouldn’t allow herself to believe the bone had been broken. “Ouch!”
“Sorry.” The dark-haired woman
gently probing Sophia’s bruise winced in sympathy. “The swelling is down a little. You know, if we had ice . . .”
“They’d force us to memorize some revolutionary poems, then they’d deny it to us anyway.” Sophia smiled with the uninjured side of her face. “Laurie, you’ve been a godsend. You and your daughter. How are you holding up?”
Laurie Eck got a distant look in her eyes. “When I married a merc, I heard that the waiting would drive me crazy. And now, really, I don’t feel anything. I want to tell myself that I’m in denial, but, Phee, I can’t believe Chris is dead. And I don’t think I’m just being brave for Kaylee, either. And the Angels, they’re tougher to kill than the monster cockroaches we had in this one billet.”
Sophia reached out and squeezed Laurie’s hand. She desperately wanted to confide in her. Sophia trusted the mercenary’s wife, but revealing her identity meant the Collective might punish Laurie for not having revealed it. Sophia had no doubts the Collective had placed spies within the wretched legion they crammed into the Rivergaard Municipal Arena. “I am confident you’re right.”
“Thank you, Phee.”
A small, officious woman appeared in the doorway of the briefing room they’d been stuffed into and blew a whistle loudly. Kaylee, seated next to her mother, clapped hands over her ears. “I have some announcements.”
Unlike on the first day, no one replied with snark to that comment.
The woman looked at her tablet. “Tomorrow will begin with a lecture about the stratagems the First Family corporations employ to strip the people of their will and self-esteem. You will all, personally, denounce these techniques, renounce their use, and confess your having used them. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Madam Proctor.”
The sharp-faced woman looked up, eying them coldly. Sophia had no idea what she was looking for, but was determined not to be it.
The proctor glanced at her screen again. “After that, you will be split into work parties. Your unrepentant, corporate lackey comrades continue their repressive war against the people. You will work to make amends for their actions. If you even attempt to escape, we will be forced to disassociate you from the people, and disassociate three other members of your cadre here. Do you understand?”
Heir Apparent Page 8
