by Daniel Gibbs
"We thank you, Madame Prime Minister." Dulaney nodded. He smiled back at her. "I'm sure they'll be grateful for the chance to land. Some of them have salvage they need to sell."
"I'm sure they do." Ascaro folded her hands on the table. "Is there anything further I might do for you?"
"The landing permission will suffice for our fleet. As for myself, I've been empowered by my government to open talks with the Republic of Lusitania."
Henry fought down a chuckle, and he failed to stop a grin from spreading across his face. It wasn't surprising that Trinidad Station might want to get some sort of recognized status.
"I admit I wasn't aware that Trinidad Station even had a government," Ascaro replied, "but then again, I didn't know they had a commodore either. I will discuss particulars at your leisure." She turned her attention to the Tokarevs. "Gentlemen, we’ve never had the warmest relations with Cyrilgrad, but I’m willing to hear you out."
Piotr spoke in Russian, and Pavel translated into passable English. "The people of Cyrilgrad welcome the chance to extend Christian brotherhood with Lusitania. Now that your people, like ours, understand the threat posed by the League, we hope you will join us in encouraging the worlds of the Trifid Region to resist their encroachments."
Ascaro smiled politely. "This incident certainly requires reconsideration of what neutrality means. I'd be happy to discuss mutual diplomatic efforts with your government."
Henry thought some of the smile might even be genuine. He wasn't sure what would be more shocking to other worlds: Lusitania extending recognition to Trinidad Station, a "pirate station" as far as the other planets were concerned, or that Lusitania might strengthen ties with Cyrilgrad. There would probably be some politicians and business executives ready to chew neutronium over all of it.
Now Ascaro's eyes turned to him. "Captain James Henry." Her smile now showed bemusement. "I read your file with the RSS and other agencies. I admit I'm surprised to see you here or to learn of the critical role you played in thwarting the League. Vitorino was your boss, after all."
"He never told me he was going to work for the League, probably because he knew I'd quit," Henry answered. "Trading with them is one thing. What he planned—"
"Yes," she interrupted. "You are an independent spacer, from what I've read. I'm assuming you'd prefer a monetary reward?"
Henry flashed a grin. "Money keeps my ship flying, Prime Minister. But if you're not particularly liquid, I'll happily take my ship's tonnage in starship hull-grade alloy and meat. Preferably bacon."
His comments caught even Dulaney and the Tokarevs by surprise. Vargas blinked, and Ascaro stared at him, open-mouthed. "Do I want to know?" she asked.
"Well, I'm due to deliver it in about twenty-seven days to the Torpan Transfer Station, or a clan of Tash'vakal nomads are going to make a pot roast out of my crew and me," Henry answered with a straight face.
"I see." Ascaro and Vargas exchanged glances. "Well, we can't fault that motivation. I'll have the Finance Ministry provide you with vouchers, then. We’ll gladly pay to keep you out of the lizards' stomachs," Ascaro noted. "And the Admiralty insists it be permitted to cover your repair and refueling costs. We're aware your vessel suffered significant damage preventing League warships from exploiting our fleet's helplessness."
"It'll be welcome, Madame Minister," Henry replied. "As a final note, among the people who helped me was the Reverend Jules Rothbard of the Faith Outreach Mission. His mission was seized by your predecessor—"
"I will order it returned to him immediately," Ascaro cut in.
"Thank you. I'm sure the residents of the neighborhood will be thankful as well." Henry thought about what to say next. He settled for the one item on his mind. "By the way, I'd like to congratulate you on your success in forming a new government. The best of luck in your elections."
"Thank you."
"Is it true the PdDN won't be challenging for seats?"
There was quiet pleasure in Ascaro's expression. "I cannot speak for what's left of their organization, but with the deaths of their leaders and new evidence that's come to light about their role in the Assembly bombing, I highly doubt they’ll stand for election."
"That's what I thought." You don't even know where that evidence comes from, do you? Well, I won't be telling you. Too much trouble.
"Before you go, gentlemen." Ascaro nodded to President Vargas, who in turn made a hand gesture to one of his staff. Four pairs of leather black cases were provided to each of them. Henry opened his and recognized them as medals. "In view of your services to the Republic of Lusitania, you are all hereby awarded the Order of the Tower and the Sword and the Order of Liberty."
"You are too kind, Madame Minister," Dulaney said.
"You saved our world," Ascaro said with feeling. "Additionally, all captains in your fleet will be given the Order of Liberty."
There was something in her voice that made Henry think there was more to this than just rewarding them. "I'm aware of the Order of the Tower and Sword," he said, "but not the Order of Liberty."
A twitch formed on Vargas' face.
Ascaro fought back a wider smile than the one she was showing. "It's not as old as the Tower and Sword, but it comes from our Portuguese ancestors as well," she said. "Our histories show it was formed to commemorate the fall of the Salazar regime in the late 20th Century. It fell out of favor following the rise of the Estado Novo, but I believe the circumstances justify bringing it back."
Henry avoided chuckling. Ascaro was happily signaling her plans for the future, and he, for one, hoped they succeeded. He picked up the cases before him and examined the medals, both finely-crafted art to embody the gratitude of a nation. A bitter, melancholy moment came with the action, a memory of previous rewards given for his conduct as an officer in the CDF. Commendations that he'd last seen ripped from his uniform on the most painful day of his life.
"Are you well, Captain?" Ascaro asked.
Henry forced the pain from his face. "Old memories, Madame Minister," he said. "Just old memories." He nodded at her. "You have my gratitude for what you've done."
"And you have mine, and that of my people," she replied.
After their visitors left, Ascaro turned her attention to Vargas. "I can imagine the protests now," she began.
"Indeed. Giving Trinidad Station recognition…" He shook his head, but the warm smile on his face suggested he agreed with her. "Perhaps it is overdue," he conceded. "As is the restoration of the Order of Liberty to our honors list. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Vargas departed, undoubtedly to attend to other matters. His chief of staff, el-Kabir, remained.
Ascaro noticed this just before she could speak to her own new aide, former RSS Agent Palmeiro. "Can I help you, Mister el-Kabir?" she asked.
"You already did," he said. "Quite well."
"Why did you give me Vitorino's medical report?" she asked. "And why did Vargas put me in that position in the first place?"
"We didn't know Vitorino's plans; otherwise, we wouldn't have supported you becoming his minister," el-Kabir answered. "At the time, it was hoped you could gradually build enough of a base to keep Vitorino honest. That, and it did make it easier for the President to make you Prime Minister."
"This is true," she conceded. "Aren't you and your superior worried I'm going to use the military to undo the Estado Novo? Having the fleet disabled by their own government has soured them on the matter, after all. I'm sure they'd be happy to tear down the RSS."
"Oh, we know you'll push for constitutional reforms, but you won't be launching any coups. You'll do it as it's meant to be done, through democratic ballot and debate," said el-Kabir. "I'm not worried about you taking extrajudicial action against the RSS. You did hire one to be your new aide, and she's even an Estado Novo supporter."
"I did so because, when the time to act came, she chose the needs of our people over ideology," Ascaro replied. "It's my great hope to persuade her that the world doesn't need the Estado Novo
."
"We'll see, Madame Prime Minister,” Palmeiro said, though her smile appeared genuine
"Indeed, we will." El-Kabir grinned at them both. "The President will be needing me shortly. I'll see you both later." He made his way toward the exit, leaving the two women alone.
Ascaro turned to Palmeiro and asked the question on her mind. "Just what is up with that man?"
"El-Kabir has an RSS file, actually. It's required reading for all RSS agents in Gamavilla, as is yours."
"Oh? What’s it say?"
Palmeiro only smiled and said, "Nothing important. He's convincingly apolitical, which is why Vargas hired him."
"Ah." Ascaro wasn't sure she bought a word of it. But she didn't have time to quibble. There was still much work to be done.
30
The infirmary on the Shadow Wolf was one of the few quiet areas on the ship given the ongoing clearing of debris and repairs to the vessel. The door was kept closed to protect the patient within.
Cristina Caetano remained on one of the beds, head turned to the wall holo-viewer. Her wounds were still healing, and, like the others, she was sore from the intense gravities endured during the fight at TR-209.
Oskar worked swiftly, quietly cataloging his remaining medical gear after he'd used up a decent portion of supplies on the League station.
The viewer displayed a news channel from Lusitania. On the screen, a man in a dark suit was guided into a waiting police car. A voice spoke in Portuguese, a language she knew Oskar knew almost nothing of. Over her days here, Caetano found she was coming to appreciate the League dissenter. He was a decent man and physician, with all the compassion one would hope to find in someone of his occupation. With his skill, her injuries were healing quite well, and he ensured she felt as little pain or discomfort as possible.
The door slid open, and she looked away, making sure her face wouldn't be seen. This gave her a view of Oskar looking over. He went to stand and stopped. "Ah, Miss Gaon?"
Upon hearing the door slide to a close again, Caetano turned back to it. Miri approached her, wearing a jumpsuit lent to her by the crew. From the sweat on her brow and condition of the suit, it was clear she'd been working with the repairs. "I wanted to check on you," she said.
"I am unchanged." Caetano glanced back to the holoviewer, which now showed anchors speaking in a news studio. "Has Captain Henry returned yet?"
"No. He is still meeting with the Lusitanian government."
"Ah." Caetano turned in the bed. "Vargas will probably be a little miserly, but Ascaro will not." She grinned at the thought. "Ascaro is Prime Minister. I admit, this is precisely what I was hoping for."
"She's good?"
"Oh, a little. She does alienate some people with her attitude," Caetano said, "but I think most of those she would alienate are among the people killed by the Assembly bombing. And that's the precise reason I want her. She won't let Vargas and the others delay on constitutional matters. She'll push to reform the State back to a democratic model. She'll bring back the civil rights undermined and sacrificed over the last thirty years. She'll anger people to do it too."
"It sounds like you approve of her," said Miri.
"Very much, I do. I locked horns with many democrats in my time, but she was one of the few who was not afraid to get in my face." Caetano smiled grimly. "If she knew I was alive on your ship, she'd have me arrested immediately."
"She doesn't," Miri replied. "Henry won’t mention you."
"It’s for the best." Caetano nodded to the viewer. "I can hardly believe it. Everything I struggled for worked out. I won." Her voice was bittersweet in tone now. "I now face exile from my home and the graves of my family, but I still won."
"Your exile doesn't have to be permanent." Miri took another step closer. "In time, Cristina Maria Rodrigues e Silva can return to the Tagus Valley and see the places she still holds dear. She can be buried with her family."
"Perhaps, and that is my wish," Caetano said softly. "But that will be left to whoever executes my last wishes. It’s not safe for me to ever set foot on Lusitania again. Nor can the truth ever be told. Cristina Caetano must remain a villain. Always." There was pain in her voice as she spoke. After all of these years, with success hers, all she had was that bitter realization. She'd always known it would end this way, but now that it had—it was almost too much. The reward for all of her efforts, compromises, and the resulting soul-searching, was to become an exile from her home. She was permanently doomed to live out her life under foreign stars.
Miri placed a sympathetic hand on Caetano's shoulder. "You've done what you must, for your people. And you'll continue to do it, even with the pain it gives." She bit her lip. "I know something of that myself." She paused briefly at Caetano's quiet weeping. "Abdul is getting a ship prepared for you," she finally added, once the emotion had passed. "You’ll be on Brasilia within two weeks."
"A new life, then."
"Yes. In time, you'll get used to it. But you'll never forget where you came from."
The transit shuttle from Gamavilla arrived at Cardoso Station after a two-hour flight. Henry spent the time checking his finances and feeling relief. The Lusitanian government's offer to provide the materials he needed to match the Tash'vakal demand for tribute, and the repairs for the Shadow Wolf, would return the flexibility he needed. Especially now, with the League an avowed threat, which would limit the jobs they could enjoy. There were worlds now where the Shadow Wolf wouldn't be able to operate safely. Places where local governments had aligned with the League out of choice or necessity, or where the League's reach was too near.
Henry disembarked from the shuttle and headed toward the station's repair docks. He nodded to passersby, focusing on his thoughts. We can head to Omega, I suppose. Put some distance between us and the League. Just have to hope the work out there is enough.
Cardoso Station was one of six that serviced Lusitania's star system. It was at the closest Lagrange point to the planet and served as a base for civilian vessels and the planet's defensive fighter squadrons. Private transports too big to land planetside used the station to transfer cargoes to short-range haulers, meaning their crews often had nothing to do but wait and spend their pay. The transit shuttle terminal led directly to the commercial areas, which assisted them in this task. Here, restaurant chains, privately-owned stores and other businesses vied for money.
One of those cafés was his destination. It was a pre-arranged meeting signaled to his link while on the shuttle, one he thought best to get out of the way. It was a real hole-in-the-wall establishment, at the corner of the middle level of Cardoso Station's commercial section, just beside the transport car station leading to the docks.
Al-Lahim was waiting in a table to the side. "They make an excellent tajine here. The mutton comes daily from the Othmani District's butchers." He waited for Henry to sit before adding, "It makes me wish the Moroccans had joined my ancestors on New Arabia."
"I'd have been happy if we'd been able to be more unified," Henry said. "The League makes the inroads it's managed by taking advantage of all the rivalries." He shrugged. "But I'm just a ship driver, so maybe I'm ignorant of why we can't."
"Only Allah knows, and all we can do is trust in his Mercy and Justice," al-Lahim answered piously.
"So I've been too busy with other matters to find out how the peace talks are going. Any word on how the League's spinning this?"
"They're not," al-Lahim said. "The talks were a sham. A setup by the League navy to get a shot at bombing Canaan with one of their dreadnoughts. It’s all over the GalNet—haven’t you been paying attention?"
Henry frowned. A League dreadnought getting a clean shot at bombarding Canaan… even one salvo would result in billions dead. It would tear the heart out of the Coalition. He managed to regain his voice. "They didn't… how bad was it?"
"It’s been publically reported they failed," al-Lahim said. "I've not been told any specific details, just that they were going to make us look responsible
for the murder of their diplomat. Thankfully, the plot was discovered in time and thwarted by the Coalition warship assigned to escort them to Canaan. The Victory Project finally paid off."
"Good to hear they got caught, then." Henry's brow furrowed. "Wait, the Victory Project? I thought that was propaganda."
"No, it was always real." For years, the Terran Coalition had been leaking information about a secret program to develop new technology to win the war. Codenamed Victory, hearing about it now was a shock. "Our first antimatter-powered warship, the Lion of Judah, stopped Seville. They chased down his flagship and destroyed it."
Henry stared. "The Lion of Judah? We named a warship after Jesus Christ?" Somehow, I don’t think Jules would approve.
"And its commanding officer is an Orthodox Jew," al-Lahim said, mirth creeping into his voice. "To top it off, the anti-matter reactor was invented by Doctor Benjamin Hayworth."
At the mention of Hayworth, Henry laughed. "You mean the scientist always going on debate shows to argue with his peers about whether God exists?"
"The same one. You can find out more detail by checking the GalNet. It's all over GNN and Canaan News Network."
"When I have five minutes to myself, I will." Henry considered it all. Things started to click into place. "This was all a big plan."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Think about it." Henry stopped speaking, not only to give al-Lahim time to ponder, but so the waitress could provide them with mugs of tea. Once she was out of earshot, he continued. "If both plans succeeded, they make the Coalition look vicious and deceitful. Here's an attempted coup at Lusitania using stolen ships, and over here, the Coalition breaking up the peace talks while murdering a League diplomat."
Al-Lahim sipped at his newly-arrived tea and nodded. "The League warship attack is written off as provoked by our side, while the neutral worlds are driven into the League's waiting arms.”
