“Sweet mother of God.”
Flynn’s awed voice cut across Lester’s thoughts.
“What—”
He stopped, transfixed by the image on the forward viewscreen.
“What the hell is that?” he asked.
“A bit over one-point-five kilometers of Clan WarShip, General,” Captain Flynn answered. “Transponder says it’s Clan Sea Fox, but I don’t understand the identifiers.”
“What the hell is a Clan Sea Fox WarShip doing in the Atreus system?”
“According to our sensors, General, it’s aiming all of its weapons at us.”
Zenith Jump Point
Atreus Systeme
Free Worlds League
“Do you think your mother will truly appreciate the symmetry?” Rikkard asked.
Julietta smiled, more at the joy of moving weightlessly than his question.
How I used to hate space travel. Now—to move without having to walk is a blessing. She caught a handhold and reversed herself. Choosing a fresh objective, she pushed off, free-floating across the—she supposed it was a dining room of some sort.
“Oh yes, she’ll appreciate it,” she said aloud. “Once she gets over being furious about it.”
“It only worked because Lester used the established jump point,” Rikkard pointed out.
“That’s because Lester is a man of tradition,” Julietta said. “Rigidity is a quality one must always admire in an opponent.”
“You are quoting Petr Kalasa,” Rikkard accused.
“Does the source make it less true?”
Rikkard shook his head. She could tell he was amused by her constant flying across the room, but she didn’t care. Choosing a new destination, she launched again.
“And if he had chosen to use a pirate point, you were aboard with enough Spirit Cats to make him forever regret being so clever,” she said. “That would have spoiled the symmetry with Mother’s ‘support’ of your conquest of Marik, but it would have had the same net effect.
“The Free Worlds League has Atreus because the Clan Protectorate kept its word.”
58
Atreus City, Atreus
Free Worlds League
3 July 3139
The sky of Atreus. Jessica stood transfixed on the balcony. Ignoring the city of dreams spread across its dozen hills, she gazed up at the blue spring sky. How long has it been since I looked up into the sky of Atreus?
She remembered standing on her tiptoes to rest her chin on the railing beneath her fingers.
Memories of her childhood came welling up, memories of her father. Not memories of the savvy politician and determined warrior fighting to right the wrongs he’d found, the wrongs he’d been duped into abetting. Rather she remembered the gentle giant who had told her stories and lifted her up on his shoulders beneath this fine blue sky and listened with honest attention when she had shared her bright dreams of their future together.
Jessica felt her throat tighten as the world before her rippled and flowed.
That’s enough of that.
Pulling a lace kerchief from the sleeve of her military jacket, Jessica dabbed at her eyes.
“Are you all right, Mother?”
“Yes. No.” Jessica tucked the lace back out of sight as Nikol joined her on the balcony. “Just remembering. The last time I stood on this spot I was too short to know you could look down over the balustrade. All I ever saw from my father’s favorite place to think was sky.”
Nikol smiled at the image.
“You look good,” she said.
Jessica looked down at herself, spreading her arms a bit. Her jacket was the traditional military tunic of the captain-general, cream with gold trim and purple at the shoulders and cuffs. Not so very different from the uniform Thaddeus had worn when he served as warden of the Covenant Worlds. Where she balked at tradition was the trousers; she had been too long on Oriente to change her ways. Below her jacket a pleated skirt of cream picked out in purple and gold fell gracefully to her ankles. Her boots were suitably martial.
Nikol wore a similar uniform, with trousers, of course, and considerably less purple and gold.
“How go the debates, Minister-General?” Jessica asked.
Nikol shook her head.
“If I’d known when I made up this job that it would entail sitting over the Parliament when it was in session, I’d have let the freedom fighters on Gallatin shoot me,” she said. “However, I have established the tradition of the minister-general getting up and walking away without explanation when bored to tears.
“There are no debates,” she added, answering the question. “Just an endless succession of MPs getting up and telling all the other MPs how vital their world was to the reestablishment of the Free Worlds League.”
“That’s healthy,” Jessica said. “It means they’re sure enough of success and of peace to want good vid samples to play for their local media.”
“Oh, I know it’s healthy. I just said healthy does not equal entertaining.”
“Should I put up this uniform for another day?”
Nikol laughed.
“They have a schedule, and Farrow and his people are making sure they stick to it,” she said. “These are the people who put together a provisional government in—how many weeks?
“It will not be long before the first captain-general of a unified Free Worlds League in over half a century is installed.”
“Time being subjective.”
“True.”
“Michael and Elis have been taking the opportunity presented by the delay to tour the children’s hospital,” Nikol added. “Your daughter’s gown is specifically tailored to ensure everyone notices that their heir is apparent.”
“Is there any word on—” Jessica hesitated, surprised she found saying the names of her children difficult.
“There is a Sea Fox DropShip at Atreus Field posting Clan Protectorate colors,” Nikol said. “I think we can assume Julietta is aboard, though in typical Clan fashion they are saying not a word. Christopher is with Duke Fontaine’s delegation. I’ve sent a message, but he hasn’t responded.”
Jessica nodded. That Fontaine Marik took the time to appear so soon after losing his homeworld to the Lyrans a second time spoke volumes about the man’s dedication to the League. That her son had not immediately sought her out spoke volumes about…
She wasn’t sure.
I have unified the Free Worlds League and torn my family to fragments in the process.
“Do we at least know where the warden-general is, should we need him?” she asked aloud.
“The boys, as they style themselves, are strolling about the east garden pretending they don’t know paparazzi are recording their every move.” Nikol shook her head again. “There has been more crystal shot of Dad and Thaddeus palling around together than all the rest of Parliament’s inaugural session combined.”
Jessica shared her smile, then sobered.
“There’s going to be political fallout from that,” she predicted. She wasn’t sure what form it would take, but she couldn’t shake the feeling it was inevitable. “We are getting too complacent in the flush of victory. A mistake now would cost us dearly.”
“Always the optimist, my dear,” said Philip.
“Father and Thaddeus are no longer in the east garden.” Nikol updated her earlier report before turning to grin at her father.
“In fact, Philip and I were discussing this very thing just now,” Thaddeus added. “Or if not this very thing, several not so very things which are closely related.”
Jessica smiled slightly. She appreciated their jovial mood, but somehow her husbands comfortably enjoying each other’s company was always vaguely unsettling.
“Actually, it stems from something you said back when you and Philip first proposed this arrangement,” Thaddeus said more soberly. “You made the case that your father—the Halas line—stayed true to what the Free Worlds League stands for when House Marik lost its way.
“Our marriage…” He spread his hands. “I don’t think one citizen in twenty believes your marriage to me exists for any other reason than to bring your claim to the captain-generalcy into compliance with tradition. We—all of us—expected a great public outcry at our wedding. The reality proved to be a fraction of what we anticipated.”
Jessica looked from one man to the other.
“If you’re suggesting that the people of the Free Worlds League are ready for a captain-general who is not connected with the Marik family, you’re mistaken,” she said. “Do not confuse their appreciation for what was done on their behalf with evidence nothing needed to be done.”
“The people had no problem with you restructuring the government by fiat,” Thaddeus pointed out. “The minister-general for domestic affairs, the warden-general to oversee the military. Positions created out of thin air before you are even installed as captain-general. The people are ready for change.”
“You read too much significance into what is essentially housekeeping,” Jessica countered. “What brought the people of the League together was tradition, a shared history spanning centuries. And the core of that history is belief in the power of the Marik name—the power of the first Great House—to hold us together. Every step we have taken on this journey—every step—was necessary.”
* * *
Julietta’s canes clacked on the marble. That’s why she didn’t like the canes. They clacked. And they forced her to keep walking. There were days—days like today—when her legs weren’t interested in listening to her brain’s commands and she missed the steady push-step-rest rhythm of her walker.
But the walker’s behind me and there is no going back.
No one made way for her. Or rather, no one made any more way for her than they would for any middle-aged woman on crutch-canes accompanied by a brace of Clan warriors and a two-hundred-kilogram elemental.
She wore a simple dress and no jewelry, and was making her way steadily toward the public observation gallery. None of her companions wore sign of rank or status other than their Clan affiliation. A few passersby looked sharp to be sure they were not Wolf patches, but most flowed past the slow-moving group without a glance. If anyone recognized her as something more than an ordinary woman in the company of Clanners, they gave no sign.
Each of her party had an observation gallery ticket, purchased by some Sea Fox apprentice, displayed prominently on a neck lanyard. Their verigraph invitations to the royal dais remained aboard ship; hers and Petr’s and Rikkard’s. She’d been a little surprised to receive those. Her mother hadn’t acknowledged her since she’d declared the formation of the Clan Protectorate.
However, she supposed the invitations were of a piece with the notification, couched in truly beautiful diplomatic language, that the Clan Protectorate was entitled to seven seats in the League Parliament, one for each member world. Her mother believed too strongly in the Free Worlds League to deny the existence of a member state—even one of which she disapproved.
Julietta realized the sidewalk ran beside the portico to the Parliament building, waist-high to street traffic. Though the steps were still a block ahead, the entrance to the gallery was only a dozen meters to their right. All she had to do to avoid a few hundred painful steps was get over a marble railing that rose higher than her head and onto the raised portico.
Easily done.
“Penelope, I’d like to reach that door over there, the one with the guards checking tickets.”
Without a word her bodyguard put an arm around Julietta’s waist and lifted her clear of the pavement. There was a moment’s wild swing through space as Penelope levered herself over the railing and then she was set down gently on the portico.
Julietta grinned up at Penelope as Rikkard and Petr swung easily over the balustrade. The vicarious experience of the elemental’s tremendous strength always made her a bit giddy.
The guards at the door had not seen Julietta and her party scale the railing, and those spectators who had voiced no objection when the four made their way directly to the entrance. In fact the guards, focused on tickets suspended from neck lanyards, did not notice them at all until one obviously realized Penelope’s prodigious chest was above his eye level.
“Um. Ah,” he said brightly, taking in the full scope of the three-meter-tall elemental before noticing her companions. “Ma’am, I know it’s open seating, but I’m going to ask that you sit in the back row so you don’t block anyone’s view.
“You,” he said to Julietta, “can sit down front because of your—”
He stopped midword, dramatically noticing her green eyes and strawberry-blond hair shot with gray. His gaze traveled down to the canes cuffed to her forearms and then back up to her neck.
Realizing what was happening, Julietta stepped to the side, leading the young man and her companions clear of the doorway so the other guard, who was oblivious to the byplay, could continue to confirm tickets and direct people to the galleries. When she judged they could not be casually overheard, she raised her chin slightly to give him a clear view of her scars.
“Lady Julietta.” The guard looked to Rikkard and then to Petr, taking in the scar tissue that covered half the Sea Fox leader’s skull. “Khan Peter Kelso?”
“OvKhan Petr Kalasa,” Petr corrected, not ungently.
“Star Colonel Rikkard Nova Cat,” Rikkard supplied before the young man could hazard a guess.
“And the young lady you were admiring is Penelope Nova Cat,” Julietta said, knowing the elemental would remain silent.
“Gentlemen, ladies,” the guard acknowledged.
Julietta found herself marveling at the earnest schoolboy manners.
“Lady Julietta, you shouldn’t be here,” the guard said. Earnestly, of course. “I don’t know what happened to your invitations, but I do know there’s a place set aside for you in the noble’s gallery.”
Julietta read his name badge. “Mr. Pedersen, do you have specific instructions on what to do if the Clan Protectorate delegation appears at this door?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then let me assure you we received our invitations and we are choosing to watch the installation of the captain-general from the people’s gallery,” she said. “What I would like you to do for me is to follow the exact letter of your instructions regarding this. Do nothing. Tell no one. Let us keep our privacy.”
The guard bobbed his head once.
“Yes, ma’am. You can sit anywhere you want. But, Miss Penelope? You’re really going to have to sit in the back.” The young man hesitated, visibly gathering his nerve. “Otherwise every guy in the place is going to be watching you.”
“Another conquest of the Inner Sphere,” Julietta murmured to the flabbergasted elemental as the blushing guard returned to his post. Not acknowledging Petr’s laugh, she focused on putting one cane in front of the other, leading her Clanners among their fellow people of the Free Worlds League.
* * *
“Sir Frederick!”
Frederick paused midstep in guiding his consort toward their chairs and turned at the sound of his name. He found himself facing an imposing blond man with a piercing eye and features that had been honed by war. A MechWarrior, he thought in the half second before realization dawned.
“My God. Christopher?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You look—well, good doesn’t cover half of it. You’ve grown.”
“Yes, sir.” Christopher nodded, accepting the assessment. “Elis told me how you saved her life on Lesnovo.”
“All I did was get knocked down and sat on,” Frederick protested. “Your father did the real work.”
“Perhaps. I just wanted to thank you.”
On the verge of waving the words away, Frederick stopped. Meeting the young man’s gaze, he dipped his chin. “You’re welcome, son.”
Remembering himself, Frederick looked to the woman on his arm. “My dear, let me introduce Christopher Marik, son of our new captain-general. Christ
opher, this is my fiancée, Lady Genevieve Bey-Hughes.”
“Christopher Halas-Hughes, Sir Frederick,” Christopher corrected. “And cousin Gen will remember me as the little boy in knee pants who used to follow her around when she visited Elis on Oriente.”
“Bey-Hughes?” growled a voice before Gen could answer. A man half a head shorter than Christopher with a flowing mane of silver hair and matching beard appeared at the young man’s shoulder. “Of the AlbertFalls Beys?”
“Yes, milord,” Gen answered. “On my father’s side. Do you know them?”
“Know of them, don’t know them. Good family.” Turning his attention to Frederick, the man thrust his hand forward.
“Fontaine Marik,” he announced. “Well met, cousin.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
Frederick hesitated, weighing whether to offer sympathy for Fontaine’s recent military setbacks. He decided against it; Michael Cendar intended to broach a proposal addressing that very issue during his visit to Atreus.
“This is not a place I ever expected to be,” he said instead.
“Nor I,” admitted Fontaine. “I suspect the League—the entire Inner Sphere—is full of surprised people this day.”
Regulus City
Chebbin, Regulus
Regulan Fiefs
“Is there nothing we can do?”
Emlia’s drooping posture wounded Lester to his heart. But the answer to her question was that there was nothing he could say or do to relieve her grief. Or remove its cause.
“If I had a nuclear bomb I would use it,” he said.
“Technically—”
“Gustav! A nuclear bomb in place under the house of Parliament on Atreus,” Lester clarified.
“Don’t know why I didn’t think to plant one when we owned the place,” he added. “God knows we sank enough else into that stinking planet.”
Salazar opened his mouth, then wisely realized a response was not required and shut it again.
“What is our strategic situation?” Lester asked his security director. Not that he couldn’t recite the data as effectively as Salazar; he just felt the need to have the worst confirmed.
To Ride the Chimera Page 33
