Aaron looked up and blinked. “Yes, it is.” He went back to his data pad.
“Uncle, you don’t understand. He was rude and insolent. He spoke of you in a disrespectful fashion. He actually made fun of your title.”
“He called me ‘Duck’ again, didn’t he? Well, I did say not to do that in front of guests. You”—he sighed deeply—“are family.”
Erik bit his lip, puzzled. “You allow this sort of behavior from your subordinates?” He’d certainly never allow it of me.
“Only in the case of Captain Clancy. His status is special. I don’t encourage it, but it isn’t in my best interests to forbid it, either.”
“Uncle—”
“Captain Clancy is in my employ, Erik. He’s not part of the SwordSworn or the general staff. He’s my personal concern, and I’ll not have you telling me how to deal with him. He’s impertinent and rude. He’s also gifted and useful. Like you, he has an important place in my plan.”
“But, my Lord, I won’t stand by and let him—”
“Erik, what have I told you about false pride? It’s the burden of fools and failures. Captain Clancy is going to be a useful and loyal servant. All I have to do is allow him this”—he swept his arms out to indicate the ship—“small domain. I’m not so petty a man that I can’t bear his little insults, nor so foolish a man that I’ll trade all his skills away over a few transgressions.” He glowered. “Ultimately, Clancy knows his place.” His eyes narrowed. “Now show me that you know yours.”
Shocked, Erik left the room without another word. Had the stress of his experiences caused the Duke to become unhinged? He thought of Clancy’s smug smile as he left Erik in the corridor and fumed.
This isn’t over.
7
SwordSworn Flagship, Tyrannos Rex
Azha jump point
Prefecture VI, The Republic
23 October 3134
For Erik, the wait for the jump to Azha was as uneventful as it was uncomfortable. The Duke remained sequestered in his quarters, presumably working and recovering from his injuries. But, large as the ship was, it wasn’t big enough for both Erik and Captain Clancy. The wiry little man seemed to prowl the Rex constantly, like a feral cat patrolling his territory.
Nor did he avoid Erik when they saw each other. Quite the contrary. It was up to Erik to steer clear and avoid the confrontation, something that offended his pride mightily. But he felt it was necessary: the only way to avoid antagonizing his uncle further.
The time might have been more pleasantly spent in the company of his uncle’s valet, Deena Onan; however, although Ulysses Paxton assured him that she was alive and well, she no longer seemed to be aboard. Aaron had apparently secured separate transport for her at their last stop and sent her on some sort of courier mission. Paxton would say no more than that.
As for Paxton himself, he had always been cordial but professionally detached with Erik and, Erik suspected, anyone whose life he might be called upon to protect in the line of duty. Now he was even more so. He seemed rattled—more by the Duke’s close brush with death than his own.
So Erik spent several days in his quarters reviewing debriefing reports from New Aragon, and playing Go on a magnetized board with Lieutenant Clayhatchee, the officer he’d appointed as his aide on the upcoming mission.
It was a great relief when they docked with the fully charged JumpShip and made the shift to Azha.
The system was quickly becoming a major hub of SwordSworn activity, so passage was soon arranged for Erik and his aide to travel on a fast Avenger assault ship. Erik received word they would be shipping out within the hour.
He was on his way into the bay to board the shuttle, when Deena Onan emerged. She seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her.
She bowed her head respectfully. “Commander Sandoval-Groell.”
He smiled. “A pleasure, as always, Deena. Did you arrive on the Avenger?”
“Yes, Commander, the same one you’re to be traveling on. I’m told it will refuel from one of our tankers before linking up with the JumpShip for the trip to Shensi.”
“My uncle told you about my mission?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Of course. I made the …necessary arrangements.”
Erik blinked in puzzlement. She’d arranged his passage on the Avenger? That didn’t seem right, with her just having returned.
She seemed to sense his confusion. She looked around. The bay was a busy place. There were several Tyrannos Rex crewmembers working within earshot. “I’m sure you’ve been briefed, Commander. I’m not sure we should be discussing this in such a public place. In any case, the Lord Governor will be expecting me to report in immediately.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m glad you emerged from the New Canton incident alive and well. I’d have been very upset if anything had happened to you.”
“That’s very gracious, Commander. Take care and have a safe journey.” She seemed almost relieved as she pulled herself through the inner airlock door and disappeared down the corridor.
Erik looked after her a moment. Though she had always treated him kindly, his advances toward Deena had never gotten him anywhere. Still, he didn’t understand what he’d done to make her so uncomfortable, or what that whole exchange had been about.
Again, he suspected the Duke’s hand. He sometimes used Deena as an operative or messenger, and it was impossible to keep track of all his plots and manipulations. Mentally, Erik added her distress to the list of deeds for which Aaron would ultimately be held accountable.
Erik, too, would be relieved to get away from this spot, and off the Tyrannos Rex.
Aaron looked at himself in the little cabin’s mirror. His face looked puffy, but that was a common side effect of free fall in the best of circumstances. Beyond that, his skin was regaining its normal tone, and the bruises were fading. His chest still ached constantly, despite the drugs, but Doc and the consulting SwordSworn physicians he’d brought aboard for consultation all told him that he was healing well and could expect a full recovery.
All he needed was time and rest—the two things that, despite his considerable fortune, he could not now afford. He resolved to push himself on, through force of will if necessary. Damn the medical consequences; he’d deal with them later.
He rubbed the whiskers on his chin. He was still toying with the idea of letting the beard grow, or at least of shaving it into a Vandyke. It would cover the jagged, still-red scar on his chin, and perhaps a few others, depending on how full he kept it. He tried to decide whether it would make him look distinguished, or merely sinister.
The door bell rang. “Lord Governor,” said Paxton from outside, “Ms. Onan has returned.”
He quickly buzzed her in. He was eager to hear her news, of course, but he was also glad to again have her services. He was feeling well enough to move around the ship, and being properly groomed and dressed would make him feel human again. He had to prepare himself. The day was quickly approaching when he would have to make public appearances again, no matter how he was feeling.
Deena floated through the door and clung to a grab-iron near the foot of his bed. She smiled at him as she entered. “You’re looking stronger, Lord Governor.”
He grinned weakly. “You lie,” he said, “but you lie well.”
His quip seemed to bother her. “It is what you pay me for, I suppose.”
“You’re back far sooner than I expected.” He’d used his considerable resources to expedite her return trip, even holding a charged JumpShip for her at Styk, but her outbound travel arrangements from Liao had necessarily been haphazard. Still, amazing things could happen if you threw enough money at a problem.
“I made excellent connections to Second Try, Lord Governor, and as it happened, an outbound St. Cyr’s carrier DropShip was waiting at the jump point as I arrived. In fact, it’s likely the ship they’ll use for our assignment. I was able to negotiate the deal with the mercenaries at the jump point, without actually travelin
g to the planet.”
He studied her face and frowned slightly. Deena was normally a cheerful person. She seemed somehow disturbed—not like someone celebrating a difficult job well done. “No trouble, I take it?”
“No, my Lord. I successfully negotiated a hit-and-run surprise air attack on the capital city on Shensi. The arrangements and timing are as we’d planned, and it was only necessary to give them the smaller two of the three numbered accounts you provided to me. I believe they’ll actually try billing House Liao for the attack as well.”
Aaron laughed. “It’s even possible they’ll collect. There’s something to be said for hiring your enemy’s mercenaries. You’re sure they don’t know who is hiring them?”
“I gave them the distinct impression I represented Capellan business interests who wish to bring Shensi mineral rights into their sphere of influence. I implied an early attack might lead them to capitulate with their production infrastructure undamaged.
“They’ll arrive at a pirate point in the system in fifteen days. The DropShip will immediately deploy toward the planet. Once in a close orbit, several wings of fighters will stage a lightning raid on the capital city, targeting primarily monuments, government buildings, and infrastructure: power, communications, water, sewer—creating as much public disruption as possible. Then they’ll rejoin their carrier DropShip, rendezvous with their JumpShip and be out of the system before Shensi has a chance to react, and they’ll be sure the Shensi people know who is attacking them. The leadership there will have no reason to suppose it’s anything more than a Capellan advance attack.”
He smiled at her. “Well done, Deena. Once again you’ve proven what an asset you are to me, and how clever I was to rescue you from that DropShip.”
She looked away, frowning.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
She hesitated before speaking. “I encountered Commander Sandoval in the bay as I was arriving. I didn’t know if I should be providing him details on the timing of the attack on Shensi. He’ll need to make provisions for his own safety.”
Aaron stared at the wall for a moment. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”
“Tell him, Lord Governor? I told him I’d made the arrangements for his trip. Nothing more. The meeting was far too public to talk about such an important matter freely.”
He was relieved. He hadn’t expected her to return before Erik left, and therefore hadn’t briefed her on the possibility. It was the sort of mistake he didn’t intend to repeat. “Good, good; I was worried for a moment.”
She blinked rapidly, unconsciously bobbing her head. “Lord Governor, if you don’t mind my asking—Commander Sandoval does know about the attack, doesn’t he?”
Aaron took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “In order for this ruse to work, Erik must be as genuinely surprised by the attack as anyone.”
“My Lord, the danger—”
“Erik is a big boy, Deena, capable of taking care of himself. This is no different than any other battle I’ve sent him into, and I’ve sent him into plenty.”
“With respect, my Lord, the people shooting at him in those battles weren’t working for the SwordSworn.”
“You’ve never questioned my activities before.”
“I’m sorry, my Lord, I’ve never had cause to.” She immediately seemed to regret her words. “Apologies, Lord Governor. That was inappropriate. I’m merely concerned for his safety.”
“He’s a Sandoval, Deena. You should know, better than most anyone, that we’re born survivors, hard to kill. Erik will be fine.”
She still looked very unhappy. “If you don’t mind, my Lord, it’s been a long and tiring trip. I’d like to rest up for a few hours before resuming my duties.”
He nodded. “Of course. Take as much time as you’d like. I’ll see you in the morning. I’d like to work on getting back to my regular routines. It’s time to start looking like a Duke again.”
“Very good, Lord Governor. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He watched her leave. She had doubts, but she’d come around. He was doing the right thing, the only right thing. This was the only way to bring the Shensi into their coalition.
In time, even Erik would tell her that.
Deena floated into the hall, cursing the zero gravity. There were times when a person just wanted to lean against the wall, to feel the cool metal against her forehead, and be alone with her thoughts for a minute. That didn’t work when a person was bobbing around like an escaped balloon.
Instead, she just hung there, a hand loosely covering her eyes. Had she just arranged for Erik’s death? Could she forgive herself if he didn’t return?
Paxton waited at his post by the Duke’s cabin door, but watched her with concern. “Deena, is there anything I can do?”
“No,” she said, “nothing.” But she didn’t move or try to escape his attention. “You knew about my mission, and the attack I arranged?”
He nodded. “The Duke keeps very few secrets from me. Or from you, for that matter.”
“Were you aware that Erik doesn’t know about the plan—that he has no idea what he’s walking into?”
Paxton considered the question for a moment. “I didn’t know the specifics. It doesn’t, however, surprise me.”
“I just don’t… How could the Duke do this?”
He smiled grimly. “Deena, you’ve been employed by Duke Sandoval long enough not to be surprised at this sort of thing. You know he can be ruthless when the occasion calls for it.”
She chewed her lip.
He tilted his head, trying to look into her eyes. “It isn’t what he’s doing that’s bothering you, so much as the fact that he’s made us culpable.”
She nodded.
“Professional detachment, Deena. It’s a necessity when you work for people in high positions—for your own protection more than theirs. I think sometimes you let yourself get too emotionally involved with the Sandovals.”
“I don’t want to be uninvolved, Ulysses. I’m a person, not a robot.”
He smiled slightly. “And I am?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You’re very professional, Ulysses. I admire that and in your situation, protecting lives, it may be a necessity. It’s just not me.”
“Then tell me, Deena, how do you feel about the Duke just this minute?”
She considered. “I feel …disappointed.”
“You should know by now not to judge nobles by our everyday standards. They have different duties, different responsibilities, and follow a different moral compass. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I suppose. It’s just—this wasn’t how I saw the Duke.”
“Tell me, Deena, do you have feelings toward the Duke?”
“Feelings? You mean… romantic feelings?”
“Close feelings of any kind.”
“Have I done something to make you think I have romantic feelings toward him?”
“No; and given what I know of your history, it seemed most unlikely. Still, I had to ask.”
“I feel very protective of the Duke, and of Erik as well. I feel very… close to the Duke. I’ve been with him for some time—been within his circle of confidence. He saved my life, Ulysses.”
“And mine as well. But it’s easy to read too much into that. Both of us would be very difficult for the Lord Governor to replace.” He smiled wryly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about dealing with nobles: Never attribute to decency what can just as easily be explained by enlightened self-interest.”
She frowned. “If you feel that way, why do you work for him?”
He chuckled. “Deena, if I could find a saint who needed a bodyguard…” He considered. “You know, I’d probably turn down the work. They wouldn’t have nearly enough enemies to make the work interesting, and if the day ever came that I failed, how could I live with myself?”
Her eyes widened, and she grinned just a little. “So you work for the Duke bec
ause he’s hated and expendable?”
“Not in so many words, but—Well, if nobles can be pragmatic, why can’t we be, too?”
“Then perhaps that’s why I work for the Duke as well. He’s a force of nature, a power—the kind of power I’ll never have. But perhaps I can steer a little of his energy to my ends, to do some kind of good in the universe. Let’s face it: The power will be there whether I am or not.”
“I’m not sure I can say the same if I’m fulfilling my job description. But then, perhaps my good work enables your good work. Together, we may have a net positive influence on the grand scheme of things.”
“Oh,” she said, fishing in the side pocket of her trim velour jumpsuit and pulling out a card. She handed it to Paxton. “This is the private intelligence firm you asked me to hire to look into the sabotage of the DropShip. They’ll be communicating through a series of anonymous mail drops. I’m still not sure what the point of this is. Won’t SwordSworn intelligence do their own investigation?”
“As time allows, but they’re new, and their resources are limited. Gathering strategic intelligence has to be their highest priority. But a private firm, properly funded, will be able to make it their first priority, and they’ll have more freedom to operate on New Canton. The Duke has instructed SwordSworn resources to concentrate their efforts inside The Republic’s territory that House Liao has taken. We have a few assets there, though not many.
“The Duke believes his assassination was a condition of the agreement between New Canton and House Liao. He’s hoping their failure may throw the agreement into doubt.”
“You think otherwise?”
Paxton sighed and glanced around to be sure nobody else was within earshot. “I believe the Duke greatly overestimates his own importance in the eyes of House Liao. I believe that only if the SwordSworn succeed in thoroughly bloodying their noses will they even be aware he exists. New Aragon may have put him on their scanners, but that’s a matter of their own priorities. The Duke would never admit it, but there are worse things than going unnoticed.
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