All Our Tomorrows

by All Our Tomorrows (epub)

  She was genuinely glad her grandfather now had real, and presumably competent, assistance. The support structure growing outward from him like a web of self-replicating nanobots should decrease the burden on his shoulders while increasing his chances of success in this mad endeavor.

  But part of her missed the days, approximately yesterday, when she, Lontias and Ziton were the only people of note residing here at the estate. The only people enjoying Corradeo’s affection and undivided attention. Hells, she almost missed their years on the Periplanos, just the two of them exploring the void.

  But the past was the past, and if her grandfather was determined to race purposefully into the future, so was she.

  As soon as there was a lull in the discussion, Corradeo shifted his chair toward her. “Nyx, you’ve returned. Was your trip fruitful?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Excellent. Everyone, let’s take a break. We can reconvene after lunch.”

  Xanne closed the visuals, and she and the other aides departed the office without complaint. Once the door closed behind them, Nyx stood and joined Corradeo at the conference table, pouring herself a glass of water and sitting opposite him.

  He bestowed one of his kindest smiles upon her. “I’m sorry you had to wait. The demands upon my time are tripling every hour, it seems.”

  “Soon, you should be able to delegate a lot of the bureaucratic work. Once you have skilled and trustworthy lieutenants.”

  “Yes, that is the trick. So, tell me what you learned.”

  “The governor of Scholite, Giovanni elasson-Kyvern, is not zealously against your new administration. Rather, I’d describe him as wary and a touch suspicious about your intentions.”

  “Many people are. It’s to be expected.”

  Was it? She’d never been a ‘pulse of the people’ kind of person. “He and his staff are concerned about new edicts from the Advocacy landing on them without warning. They’ve run their planet their own way for the last fourteen years, and they’re not enthusiastic about having to answer to a new authority.

  “The real problem, however, is that the governor is receiving tremendous pressure from a group exerting informal influence over his administration. The group doesn’t have an official name, but they’ve been loudly protesting…in essence, you. They characterize your recent actions as a blatant power grab and insist you have designs on dictatorship.”

  “This is unfortunate news. If I could only…” Corradeo’s hands fisted briefly atop the table “…make such people understand what I’m trying to accomplish here, and how it will benefit everyone.” His voice rose a little toward the end, but he dialed it back down. “Does this group have a leader?”

  “It does. A man named Patrici Cabo ela-Diaplas. He owns the largest engineering firm on Scholite and serves on the boards of multiple industry groups in the stellar cluster.”

  Corradeo studied the table surface silently for several seconds, and she’d long ago learned not to interrupt his contemplations.

  Abruptly he nodded to himself. “I would like to speak to this Patrici Cabo. Will you extend my personal invitation for him to visit me here on Ares?”

  It wasn’t the direction she’d expected him to take, which only proved how much she still had to learn about this ‘new’ way of doing things. “Yes, sir. I’ll return to Scholite straightaway.”

  SCHOLITE

  Milky Way Galaxy

  Ziton used his connections from his former job at Michanero Production to connect her to the right people, and by the time she arrived in the capital city of Veloa, she had an appointment with her target.

  Cabo Construction’s headquarters was an atrocity of curved metal and black marble jutting high into the aquamarine sky. This was a Diaplas-dominated planet, and the Scholites were oh-so proud of their engineering marvels.

  A secretary showed her into Cabo’s office without too much of a wait. The man sported close-cropped, curly blond hair and wore a more utilitarian than fashionable business suit.

  He stood from behind his desk and dipped his chin curtly in her direction. “Inquisitor.”

  She stopped in front of the desk, planted her feet and clasped her hands in front of her. “The ‘Inquisitor’ title has been retired. It’s Prefect now. Nyx Praesidis.”

  “Dropping the vaunted ‘elasson,’ but not adopting your lineage?”

  “Praesidis is my lineage.”

  If he was surprised at her genetic credentials, he hid it well. “I see. Then I suspect I know why you’re here today. You can tell Corradeo Praesidis that I don’t appreciate a political overture being delivered over the barrel of a gun.”

  She spread her hands wide. “I carry no weapon.”

  “You are the weapon, and my point stands. So, what are the Advocate’s demands?”

  “No demands. Merely an invitation to meet with him at his office on Ares to discuss your concerns, in the hope he can assuage them.”

  “An ‘invitation,’ is it? Am I allowed to refuse?”

  “Of course you are.”

  “Then I—”

  “A word of advice? I don’t recommend it. Don’t misunderstand me. If you refuse, no agents will show up to put you in your place, kidnap you, demote you or confiscate your wealth. But the Advocacy is our future—the future of all Anadens. The sooner you reorient your thinking to recognize all the benefits it can offer our people, the better off you and the citizens of Scholite will be. Meet with him and listen to what he has to say. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “I suppose I gain nothing by dragging out what is an inevitable confrontation. Fine. I will go to Ares. But I do not anticipate leaving there with my mind changed on any salient point.”

  “That will be your prerogative.”

  45

  * * *

  ARES

  Advocacy HQ

  Short jaunts like the one to Scholite and back were becoming a regular feature of her new role, but at least this time Nyx was prepared for the new protocols and cleared them with a minimum of hassle.

  Patrici Cabo had insisted on traveling in his own ship, so she had time to shower and change clothes before meeting him at the security entrance to the main building.

  His gaze took in the construction around the estate with interest, though his tone remained biting. “Not wasting any time setting up command, is he?”

  “Every government needs a place to do its work. Follow me.” She accompanied Patrici into her grandfather’s office, then took up a position by the door, on guard. She didn’t care for the man’s arrogance and hostility, and she wanted to keep an eye on him. She’d meant what she’d told the anarch, Eren, during their mission together. However capable Corradeo might be—surely quite capable indeed—she felt an instinctual, inbred need to serve as his guardian. To protect him from the evils that men would do.

  Corradeo met Patrici halfway, offering the man a hand and a welcoming smile. “Thank you so much for taking the time to travel here and meet with me. Sometimes, a holo meeting simply can’t replace a face-to-face conversation.”

  Patrici reluctantly shook Corradeo’s hand. “I’ll listen to what you have to say, but be forewarned. I don’t expect to be convinced.”

  “I accept your terms. And while I’m happy to discuss my plans for the Advocacy with you, I most of all want to hear what you have to say. You have concerns, and I want to understand them better, so I can address them in a way that benefits us both.”

  Ugh, diplomacy was excruciating. All this ass-kissing and soft platitudes! In the old days, Nyx would have dealt with this problem by sending Patrici and all his adherents to a black prison site, like the now-defunct Helix Retention.

  She promptly chastised herself for the renegade thought; this was not the way things were done now, and it was a good thing. People deserved agency and freedom…most of them.

  The two men retired to the conference table, and in seconds they were engaged in a lively back-and-forth on the finer point
s of local control versus federalism, the benefits and costs of state-sponsored economic initiatives, and the nature and wisdom of various political restrictions.

  The words actually spoken didn’t particularly interest her, so she paid attention to their body language. Over the course of twenty minutes or so, Patrici’s voice lost much of its harsh edge. His shoulders relaxed, and his hands grew animated. Her grandfather’s convivial demeanor, however, never deviated from how he began.

  Corradeo nodded thoughtfully. “Your point about leveraging the long experience of the people on the ground on our many worlds is well made. I confess I had not fully considered the ramifications of enacting broad policies that don’t take into account local…let’s call them ‘idiosyncrasies.’ I’ll speak to my advisors this evening about adjusting the first round of proposals to allow for greater flexibility by local governments.”

  “That’s considerate of you, sir. Equally important, though, is keeping as many of the financial decisions—and income flow—in the hands of the governors. The most inspired policy in the galaxy is worth nothing if we have no money to implement it.”

  “Agreed, but the issues involved in budgeting, taxing and, yes, the dreaded appropriations, are far more complex than the policies themselves. I need to balance local control with consistent messaging and action from the top. You have my word, though, that I will strive to balance them fairly.”

  Patrici leaned forward, bringing his hands to his chin briefly then laying them flat on the table. “I see your point, but it remains a matter of concern. Until we see detailed legislation out of the Advocacy, I can’t recommend to the governor that he hitch his star to your government. But I concede there is value in a ‘wait and see’ approach. We shouldn’t burn the new administration to the ground until you give us a concrete reason to do so. Or, perhaps, don’t.”

  “This is all I can ask for.” Corradeo’s demeanor shifted, as if something was just occurring to him—which was bullshit. Whatever it was, he’d planned it all along. “You own an engineering firm, do you not?”

  “Yes, sir. Cabo Construction.”

  “Excellent. While I have you here, would you indulge me by taking a quick look at some plans I’ve had drawn up for a new government complex here on Ares? I want it to represent a cross-section of Anaden architectural styles, but obviously a random hodge-podge of motifs will result in a horror.”

  Patrici’s expression was guarded, as if he suspected a trap. “I can take a few minutes to review it.”

  “I appreciate it.” A sprawling projection appeared above the table, and Corradeo proceeded to explain the various buildings and the thoughts behind their designs. Patrici asked some questions, provided some suggestions and offered many concerted frowns.

  Finally Corradeo sank back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “Your eye for both style and functionality is impressive. I must confess that I did a little research before you arrived—not into your personal life, but regarding your company’s history. You’ve been responsible for a number of significant and noteworthy projects over the years: the famous Cardonia Gardens in downtown Veloa and the Roson Commercial Shipyard Complex, to name but two. Many in your business concede that Cabo Construction is the best large-scale engineering design company in Anaden space.”

  “I’m honored they think so.”

  Corradeo pursed his lips and considered the projection for several seconds. “How would you like to build this complex for me?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “I’ve been through three engineering consultants already, all Diaplas elassons. Despite hours of discussions, none of them comprehended my intentions, but you intuitively grasped what I’m after in five minutes. I need to be focusing my time on implementing proper governance, on our integration with Concord, and on our war against the Rasu. I also need this complex built. Buildings are symbols, and symbols have power.

  “I believe I can entrust you and your company with this project. With my oversight, of course, but I promise to wield a very light touch. I’m willing to pay you four hundred million credits to see it to completion.”

  Nyx’s eyes widened at the gargantuan sum.

  “Are you toying with me, sir?”

  “I assure you I am not. I have neither the time nor the excess energy for games. I need to get things done—real, concrete, positive things that will benefit all Anadens—and I’m trying to surround myself with people who can make this happen.”

  “I see. I’ll, um, need to discuss it with my board of directors. They’re required to approve all contracts of such…” Patrici cleared his throat awkwardly “…scope. But I believe they’ll be excited to engage in a project so important to the Anaden people.”

  “I hope so.” Corradeo stood and offered his hand again. “I’ll send you a full contract later this evening. The terms are all subject to negotiation, so raise any issues you have, and we’ll see if we can come to an agreement. I look forward to a fruitful working relationship.”

  This time, Patrici shook her grandfather’s hand with considerably more warmth. “As do I. Thank you for your time, sir.”

  An aide arrived to see the man out. When the door had closed behind them, Corradeo tilted his head at her. “Thoughts?”

  She huffed an incredulous breath. “You bought him off.”

  “Yes, I did.” He turned and went back to his desk.

  “Isn’t that a bit unethical?”

  “No, it’s expedient. I made some progress in talking him off the ledge of rebellion, but I was never going to convince him to drop his opposition to our government today. Words cannot accomplish such a feat—only time and actions can. So I needed to buy time for my actions to convince him, while removing his more vociferous roadblocks until that happens.”

  She found she couldn’t refute the logic. “All right. Are you really going to let him build the Advocacy complex?”

  “Absolutely. I meant everything I said about his company. I have complete confidence they’ll do an excellent job. As a bonus, it will provide anyone who’s watching with real evidence that I was not pontificating when I said elassons no longer enjoy a birthright to greatness. A talented and hard-working ela can achieve the greatest things, and Patrici Cabo will be a superb example.”

  She laughed. “Grandfather, you truly are a brilliant….”

  “Manipulator?”

  “No—well, yes, but I meant strategist. Diplomat, politician, leader. I’m sorry I questioned your intentions.”

  “Don’t be. One reason why you’re at my side is to keep me honest. Now, if you don’t mind, monitor events on Scholite for a while. Hopefully the rumblings of discontent will soon be dying down.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on things there.” She turned to go—

  “Nyx? There’s one more thing I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Oh?”

  Corradeo moved to the couch and patted the cushion next to him. “Please, sit with me.”

  “Of course.” She went over and joined him, then clasped her hands over her knee. “What is it?”

  His countenance took on a darker, almost troubled tenor. “I want you to tell me about Kolgo.”

  For half a second, she felt a sensation she hadn’t experienced since the night at Helix Retention when Caleb Marano stripped her of her diati: fear. But then she reminded herself that this was the man she’d spent fourteen years traveling the stars with. They’d come to care for one another as only family could, and whatever disagreements they might have, he would never burn her at the stake for her failings.

  She hoped.

  “I…all right.” She nodded, if only for her own encouragement. “I located Kolgo on Ficenti several weeks ago. He had set up his own fiefdom in the Mikro-Teln District. Within the neighborhood, he was the sole and absolute authority. Grandfather, he was committing the most vile, depraved acts. Taking prisoners and forcing them to fight against beasts to the death. Raping and drugging women. Staging all manner of blood sport for h
is amusement. It was horrible.”

  His expression remained scrupulously devoid of reaction. “And?”

  “And I tried to convince him to leave his fiefdom behind and come with me. To renounce this madness he’d descended into and let me help him regain a better path. But he refused. He had no interest whatsoever in changing his behavior or giving up his power. So I poisoned his drink with apomono, then I killed him.”

  Corradeo leaned back into the couch cushion and silently steepled his hands at his chin.

  “You already knew, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know some of those grislier details, nor precisely how you accomplished it. But I knew he was a violent criminal on Ficenti, and that he’s now dead. Permanently, it seems.”

  She crossed her arms in a huff. “Did Eren tell you?”

  “Eren? Ah…this is what the two of you did after you located Ferdinand. I see. I imagine Eren enjoyed the mission on Ficenti more than you did. But no, he didn’t betray your trust.”

  “And you’re not upset at him for keeping this from you?”

  “Eren keeps many secrets.”

  “And you let him. Grandfather, why do you cut him so much slack? You treat him as if he’s family, rather than the unhinged, irresponsible Idoni asi he is.”

  “Now, Nyx. ‘Unhinged’ is a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

  “Fine, perhaps a bit. But my point stands.”

  “So it does.” Corradeo’s gaze drifted toward the window in the back of the office, and something indecipherable passed across his eyes. “I owe him a great deal.”

  “Yes, because of his work with the anarchs. But there were many anarchs, and they are not all currently living in one of your most spacious suites.”