by Peter Grant
“Minister, you’ll go to Marano personally to conduct the final negotiations. I authorize you to offer them even more than they ask for, up to and including exclusive mining rights in Termaz’ asteroid belt for a period of five to ten years – the shorter the better, of course.” Everyone around the table sat up with a jerk. The mining rights in the former Laredo system were in the sole gift of the Satrap, and so far had never been assigned to anyone.
“There’s a condition attached to my generosity. We need those ships and weapons as quickly as possible. The mining concessions are our carrot, but we need a stick as well. It’s this. We’ll pay a minimal amount as a deposit on our order. Offer ten per cent at first, and don’t go higher than twenty no matter how hard they bargain. Marano must deliver our entire order aboard one of its ferries, to arrive here at Bactria by not later than the first of July next year, Galactic Standard Calendar. Until that date, no concessions will be signed. Marano will retain ownership and possession of the shipment until our Navy has inspected it and agrees that everything’s there in good order. At that point we’ll sign the mining concessions, after which Marano will transfer ownership of the shipment to us and offload it. If they don’t deliver everything on time, they don’t get the concessions. What do you think?”
The Minister smiled. “They’ll hate it, Your Majesty, because it puts them under enormous time pressure. Still, if our offer is lucrative enough I think they’ll accept the deal. They won’t be able to afford to turn it down. The only problem I foresee is that their factories and shipyards may not be able to produce everything in so short a period, even using robotic construction and assembly. After all, they’ll have other orders to fill in the same time frame.”
“Then they must take ships and weapons from their Navy, refurbish them to new condition, and supply them to make up for what they can’t produce in time. They can replenish their own stocks later – after all, they aren’t facing any immediate threat that we know of. As Commodore Eschate pointed out, time may not be on our side, so let’s do all we can to speed things up.”
“I think that approach might work, Your Majesty.”
“Good.”. He looked at the Generals. “If they accept the deal, that’ll free up money in the defense budget to address some of your capital expenditure requirements. We’ll discuss them further at that stage. I won’t consider extending the term of conscription until we’ve conducted an in-depth analysis of its impact on the economy. I’ll have that put in hand at once, with a view to making a decision as soon as its findings are available. However, that’ll take some time.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” General Demetrius said grudgingly.
Rostam rose to his feet. “Then I declare this meeting of the War Council closed.”
He watched as the officers gathered their papers and electronics, put them into their briefcases, and made for the door. Behind him Captain Yazata motioned with her head to the bodyguards. They followed the officers to the door, going out into the corridor to form a protective screen before the Satrap emerged.
He glanced at her. “I think that went as well as could be expected.”
She grimaced. “You’ve alienated the Army and SS Generals almost completely. I’d look for trouble from them if I were you.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“They may genuinely believe you’re a threat to the safety and security of Bactria, even though they subconsciously mean you’re a threat to their own positions of influence. I don’t think they can separate the two realities in their minds any longer. If so, anything’s possible, particularly if they get together with some of the disaffected nobles.”
“Then we’ll just have to be doubly on our guard, won’t we?”
Bactria: May 5 2851 GSC
ENTERTAINMENT DISTRICT, SODIA
A discreet knock came at the door to the private dining-room. Those inside halted their discussion in mid-sentence as they looked up. A moment later the door was opened and a tall figure stepped inside. The host rose to greet him as the door closed.
“Good evening, General Gedrosia. Thank you for joining us at such short notice.”
“It was my pleasure, Wazir Khanoum. An invitation from so important a noble has the force of a Royal command as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’m honored that you feel that way. Please be seated.”
The SS officer sat down next to General Demetrias. The two shook hands warmly, then returned their gaze to their host.
“Now that we’re all here, we can begin. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering our meal in advance. I know this restaurant and its menu very well, so I hope you’ll trust my judgment as to the courses. Waiters will bring them at intervals, then leave us undisturbed so we can continue our conversation.”
He clapped his hands. The first course, a savory fish soup, was laid before each guest, then the waiters withdrew.
“Before we proceed, may I ask whether we’re certain that this restaurant is secure?” Demetrias asked.
“It is,” replied the Wazir confidently. “I own it. Its staff have all been carefully selected and rigorously vetted before being trusted to work here. We can speak freely.”
“Excellent! Thank you, Wazir. Your thoroughness is very encouraging.”
“It’s my pleasure. Now, to business. I trust you were all as… as nauseated as I was by this morning’s spectacle? I can’t bring myself to refer to it as a ‘wedding’.”
Gedrosia looked as if he were hard pressed not to spit in his soup. “It was disgusting! How the mithrayana priests could restrain themselves from throwing hot coals over the Satrap and his… his consort to punish their blasphemy, instead of offering them the traditional ashes to mark each other’s foreheads, I simply could not understand!” The others murmured their angry agreement.
“I see we’re all of one mind. That’s gratifying. It means we share the same values… values I fear our present Satrap honors more in the breach than in the observance. That being the case, the question arises as to how we should act in order to… safeguard and preserve those values.”
There was a long silence. They all knew that to go further down this road bordered on, if not actually crossed the line into treason.
Major-General Pamir was the first to demonstrate the courage of his convictions. “In so many words, Wazir, you’re asking us to consider how the Satrap might be… controlled… or even replaced, if necessary.”
There was an intake of breath around the table, but no-one objected. Khanoum looked approvingly at the Army officer. “Thank you for expressing our problem so succinctly, General. That is precisely why I asked all of you to join me tonight. I am not without influence in the House of Nobles. I think I can guarantee the support of at least a third of them for any such effort, and the tacit acceptance of another third. The Satrap alienated many of us by elevating this… Yazata… to the nobility.” He spat out her name as if it were a virulent curse. “It’s not that we object to our ranks being enlarged, of course. Looking around this table, I see six outstanding candidates for elevation.” His half-dozen guests preened slightly, glancing at each other. “However, you’ve all proven yourselves fit for noble rank through long and faithful service to the Satrapy. This Captain may be courageous, but she’s far too young to qualify.”
“She’s also dangerously ambitious,” General Demetrias growled. “She helped save the Crown Prince’s life, sure enough, but luck had much more to do with that than skill or courage. As soon as he was safe, she abused his natural gratitude towards her by insinuating herself into his life and daily routine to an ever-increasing extent. It’s no wonder the poor boy’s become infatuated with her. He doesn’t have the experience to understand how a worldly-wise woman is manipulating him. All he can see and think about is her body – which is admittedly attractive and would naturally obsess a young man, particularly if she knows how to use it. He can’t see the devious, twisted mind inside it.”
“An excellent point, General!” the Wazir e
xclaimed. “Our concern over the present situation isn’t disloyalty at all. In reality, it’s an expression of our higher loyalty to the Satrapy as a whole, regardless of the present incumbent of the throne. He’s simply unable to see how he’s been led astray. It’s up to us, who know better, to… put the situation to rights.”
“One hopes that it won’t be necessary to replace the Satrap,” SS Colonel Arachosia observed thoughtfully. “If he could perhaps be… restrained, removed from the pernicious influence of that woman, given more suitable advisers to help him reach the correct conclusions and assist him by implementing them instead of his present misguided policies, he could continue as Satrap indefinitely, not so?”
“Most certainly!” Khanoum assured him.
“But what if he doesn’t agree to be restrained?” Army Colonel Ferghan wondered.
“That would be… unfortunate,” the noble admitted. “Only one of the Blood Royal can succeed him. There are at least half a dozen contenders who would vie to replace him if anything were to happen to Satrap Rostam. That would be a most difficult and complicated situation for our country. We would have to assess the candidates very carefully, and decide among ourselves who should be… discouraged… from seeking the throne, and who is most deserving of our support.”
They all knew, without having to be told, that he really meant they’d auction off the throne to the candidate who promised them the most. If he failed to deliver on his promises, he’d be replaced in his turn. This would not be the first time something of the kind had occurred in Bactria’s history.
The last member of the party set down his spoon on his plate with a sharp clink! of metal on crockery. “All right, let’s stop beating about the bush. We all know why we’re here. What’s the next step? What are we actually going to do to resolve this mess?”
Khanoum smiled genially. “We’ll have to move slowly and carefully, Major Kadeh. All of us are too valuable to the Satrapy to take needless risks.” Vigorous murmurs of agreement came from his guests. “You of all people should know the need for caution. You are, after all, a member of the Satrap’s Guard, and therefore potentially the most exposed of any of us.” He glanced around. “I should add that I invited the Major to join us despite his more junior rank because, if direct action should become necessary, he may be in the best position to initiate it. His cousin was the late and greatly lamented Colonel Kujula, martyred on Termaz last year, who was one of my confidants. It was he who assured me that the Major is absolutely trustworthy.” The others nodded approvingly.
“Let me summon the waiters to serve the next course. Once they’ve departed, I’d like to offer a few proposals for your consideration.”
~ ~ ~
SATRAP’S PALACE, SODIA
The curtains were pulled back and the windows and double doors to the balcony were open, allowing the cool night air to flow freely through the bedroom. They laid together, spent, perspiration cooling on their skin, letting the afterglow wash over them.
At last she stirred next to him. “That was… spectacular. Thank you, darling.”
“It was special for me, too. What was different this time? It was as if you were even more… involved than you usually are. It can’t be just because we were married this morning.”
She smiled in the darkness. “No, it’s more than that. I had the doctor cancel my birth control a couple of weeks ago, and adjust my hormone balance. I’m fertile tonight.”
He sat up with a jolt. “You mean…?”
“Yes. You need an heir, Rostam. No – the Satrapy needs an heir. If anything happens to you, there are half a dozen potential claimants to the throne. If they start fighting among themselves, it might develop into a civil war. I want to bear you a child as soon as possible, so that any rebellious spirits who might be thinking of replacing you with someone more… compliant… find that’s no longer an option.” She sat up and hugged him. “That’s why tonight was different for me. It was… deeper, somehow… more intimate. It’s almost like I can feel your seed taking root inside me.”
He was speechless for a moment as he hugged her. “I… what can I say? Thank you, darling.”
“Oh, it was very much my pleasure. Yours, too, I seem to recall!” They laughed softly together.
He lay back again, pulling her down into the crook of his arm. “While you look after that side of the future, I’m going to do more myself. You read the most recent report from Prison Camp Three on Termaz, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was suddenly thoughtful. “It looks like that female doctor we captured at the Arena is suddenly at odds with the others. She seldom talks to them, and then only as briefly and coldly as possible.”
“Uh-huh. Her husband was the rebels’ military commander, and she chaired the committee that ran the Resistance. Her influence has probably been curtailed since her husband’s death; she may no longer be head of that committee, if it even exists any more. She’s obviously intelligent – I mean, you don’t get to be a doctor unless you’ve got at least some smarts. I wonder if we could use her to crack open the rebels’ united front behind their Government-in-Exile?”
“Hmm… you may be onto something there, darling. What do you have in mind?”
“I think I’ll have her brought here. I’m not sure she’ll talk to any of our military officers, but I was thinking that you, as a wife and – hopefully – mother-to-be, could approach her on the basis of ‘we women have to make peace because men can’t be trusted to do so’. What do you think?”
“That goes back to humanity’s oldest myths. Remember Lysistrata?”
He chuckled. “She led the women of ancient Greece in a sex strike until their men made peace, didn’t she?”
“So the legend says.” She hugged him. “I’m not threatening that, you understand?”
“I should think not! You’d infuriate the House of Nobles even more than they are already!”
“It wouldn’t work. They have so many mistresses and consorts that they’re sure to find some strikebreakers among them,” she sniffed, drawing renewed laughter from her husband. “Anyway, it’s worth a try.”
“Good. Let’s put arrangements in hand. Next, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but the Satrap’s Guard has always included a special surveillance section.”
“I’ve heard of it, but I’m not cleared for it.”
“We’ll fix that first thing in the morning. A couple of months ago I tasked them with keeping a much closer eye on potentially disaffected nobles. If any of them have ideas about moving in on me, I’d like to have as much advance warning as possible. I’d like you to take over monitoring that side of things. I’m so busy I might miss a potential threat, but I know you’ll spot one if it arises.”
She shivered. “You’re so… matter-of-fact about it. We’re talking about your life, dammit!”
“Yes, we are; but I learned an important lesson from your friend Captain Dehgahn last year, and from General Huvishka as well. Remember how the Captain volunteered to hold back the rebels while we escaped? He was already badly wounded. The General said to him, ‘Die well,’ and he replied, ‘I’ll do my best.’ When you think about it, that duty is laid on all of us, isn’t it? I’ve never forgotten a line in an ancient play from Old Home Earth. ‘A man can die but once; we owe God a death, and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.’ My tutor used to quote that at me as an example of a Satrap’s final duty to his people.”
She raised up on one elbow and stared at him. “You sound almost morbid, darling. You aren’t having premonitions of doom, are you?”
He laughed. “No, I’m not. I’m just very well aware of the risks confronting us for the next couple of years, until I’ve consolidated authority in my hands and cut the old guard down to size. I’m not prepared to cower under their threats. I’m going to stand tall and confront them. I don’t see any other way to turn things around here.”
She nodded slowly. “I don’t either… which makes it e
ven more important to give you at least one heir as quickly as possible. In fact, I may transfer the first to a gestation pod as early as possible, then try to conceive again even before our first child reaches term, so as to have another ready, just in case.”
“Now who’s being morbid?”
“Hey, you started it! I’m trying to be as realistic as you are. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to marry you.”
“Yet you still said ‘Yes’. I love you for that.”
She twisted around and eased herself on top of him. “I love you for a lot more than that. Shall I demonstrate? After all, if we want a baby soon, we’re going to have to work at it.”
“Uh-huh. Practice makes pregnant.”
“Oh, you!”
He caught his breath. “Did you know that you move delightfully against me when you laugh like that?”
“You mean like this?”
“Oh, yes… just like that… yes…”
Laredo: July 11 2851 GSC
PRISON CAMP #3, NEAR CARISTO
“No change?”
Jake sighed. “No change. She’s as cold and distant as ever.”
“Must be hell living next door to her, never getting a civil word out of her.”
“I do my best to treat her as I’ve always done. If she doesn’t want to respond, it’s on her, I guess. It’s not that we’ve decided to ostracize her. She’s chosen to isolate herself.”
“Here she comes now.”
“Where’s she going?”
His aide watched as Gloria stepped down from the door of the mess hall. “Looks like she’s heading for the perimeter track. Must be wanting to walk a while.”
“Given the way the breakfast porridge sticks to your ribs, maybe she’s trying to shake it down.”
The other grinned. “Could be. Speaking of that, I could do with a walk myself. Want to join me?”
