Democracy 1: Democracy's Right (18 page)

She allowed the thought to sink in, and then continued.  “On the downside, that is a very long-term project, one with no guarantee of success,” she said.  It was true enough.  Searching a single star system for a hidden colony was a long and tedious task; searching along the Rim, or out into the Beyond, would take centuries.  Somehow, she doubted the rebels would stand still and allow Percival to hunt for them.  “We need to lure them into a trap.”

Penny crossed her legs again and keyed the terminal, bringing up a chart of Sector 117.  “There are thousands of possible targets,” she said, “depending on just what the rebels have in mind.  They could go after our shipping” – the Annual Fleet still hadn’t appeared, leading her to wonder if the rebels had jumped and destroyed the fleet – “or they could target the various Family-owned worlds in the sector, weakening our position and embarrassing us at home.  Only a handful of worlds can hope to stand their fleet off for longer than a few hours; if we assume that they won’t go after such worlds…”

“Really,” Derbyshire interrupted.  “And what grounds do you have for assuming such a thing?”

Penny refused to allow him to fluster her.  “The rebels do not have access to any shipyards capable of repairing a superdreadnaught,” she said.  “Repairing a superdreadnaught, even in a shipyard, is not a trivial task.  They would probably prefer to keep their superdreadnaughts undamaged for as long as possible.”

“Unless they’ve somehow established a shipyard in the Beyond,” Percival added.  He sounded as if his previous delight had turned sour.  “They could be turning out their own superdreadnaughts.”

“If that were the case,” Derbyshire said, “we’d have seen newer superdreadnaughts pointed at us by now, built by the underground movements based along the Rim.”

Penny nodded.  “And there is another factor to consider,” she added.  She looked up at her patron, feeling her insides churning.  Percival wasn't going to like this at all, not even slightly.  “Commander Walker has a grudge against you personally.”

“Ungrateful piece of shit,” Percival said.  His voice had turned savage, as if he were so angry he had to fight to get the words out.  “I take him from the gutter, build him up into a fine young officer and
this
is how he repays me?”

Penny doubted that it had been that way at all.  Reading between the lines, she suspected that Percival had used Commander Walker as a tool and then discarded him when his usefulness was over.  The secure files had been quite indicative, with carefully-written statements in Walker’s file that suggested he was too ambitious to be trusted with high command.  Her lips twitched, humourlessly.  Percival had been quite right about that, although not for the right reasons.  He’d just seen it as squashing a bug with unsubtle ambitions.

“Regardless, he has a grudge,” Penny said, calmly.  “And that grudge is going to lead him to strike against you – and to pick targets that hurt you.”

“Camelot itself, then,” Percival said.  His voice broke off, suddenly.  “I see what you mean.”

Penny smiled.  “You’re a Roosevelt client, so hurting the Roosevelt Family hurts you, because it makes you look incompetent,” she said, firmly.  “There are nine worlds within the sector that would make good targets, with the dual aim of embarrassing you and weakening the Roosevelt hold on this sector.  Those worlds will be targeted by the rebels, certainly soon if not now.”

She keyed the terminal.  “We call the superdreadnaughts back from Jackson’s Folly, but we leave decoy drones in their place,” she said.  “Commodore Brent-Cochrane moves his squadron to the most likely target and lurks there, under cloak.  When the rebels show up, he moves to intercept and destroy them.”

“Defeating the rebellion in one blow,” Percival agreed.  His grin grew wider, like a shark’s.  “I must compliment you.  Sending you on invasion missions as an observer clearly helps you to think.”

Penny smiled, modestly.  It wouldn’t remain
her
idea for very long.

“I will cut the orders for Brent-Cochrane at once,” Percival added.  Penny didn’t miss the long look Stacy gave him, warning him that he had better ensure that the Roosevelt Family’s interests were protected.  “And then” – he reached out and ran a finger down her arm – “perhaps we can celebrate in private.”

Penny nodded, keeping her true feelings concealed with the ease of long practice.  There was no point in pointing out that the rebels hadn’t been beaten yet.  It would only have upset him.

Chapter Eighteen

“So,” Hester said.  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Colin shrugged.  It had never occurred to him that he might suffer from a fear of crowds.  In the Imperial Navy Academy, he’d been packed in with other cadets of his own age, while senior cadets had ruled with a rod of iron, keeping trouble-makers in line with beatings and demerits.  The cramped, almost claustrophobic conditions hadn’t bothered him; indeed, he’d been having trouble sleeping in the massive Admiral’s quarters that had been set aside for Stacy Roosevelt.  He certainly had never experienced any discomfort on starships, even as a young Midshipman.

And yet…standing in the centre of the massive room, exchanging small talk with everyone – they sought him out personally – made him want to run off and hide, perhaps back onboard the superdreadnaught.  H
e’d been in formal balls before as one of Percival’s aides, yet there he’d been very much a wallflower, too lowly to be noticed.  Here, he was the centre of attention.  Everyone from underground leaders to starship commanders and cult leaders had come to see him, him personally.  It was almost too much to bear.  He would have preferred to face a fleet of superdreadnaughts wearing only a towel.

“I have been worse,” he said, gravely.  Hester had effectively taken over his social schedule, introducing him to the real movers and shakers along the Rim.  Some of them had been keen to work with the rebels, hoping that one day they would be able to return to the worlds the Empire had taken; others had been less willing to cooperate, either through fear of the Empire or simple disinterest.  “Is all of this really necessary?”

It came out more plaintive than he had hoped and Hester smiled in understanding.  “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she said, moving her lips so that they were right next to his ear.  Her breath was chilly, freezing cold.  “The first time I had to address a congress of revolutionary factions, I was so nervous that I kept going to the toilet and they eventually had to send someone to see how I was.  There are more kinds of bravery than merely charging into battle and dying heroically.”

Colin snorted.  The Thousand Families seemed to be born with the kind of arrogance that made such parties bearable.  He couldn’t imagine Stacy Roosevelt, or even Percival himself, having a problem with the gathering.  They would have been happily chatting about nothing, or sharing spiteful tales about their rivals, or even cutting deniable deals with all and sundry.  They would have been delighted to be the centre of attention, and very insulted if they’d been ignored.  Colin…wanted to run and hide.

In hopes of a distraction, he looked around the massive chamber.  Someone had carved it into the heart of an icy asteroid, using fusion torches to carve out a romantic retreat, yet it felt surprisingly warm.  Hundreds of representatives moved through the chamber, chatting with others, although all of them had made time to speak to Colin.  He'd thought that he would have to make contact, but as Hester had promised, they all came to him.  And, of course, they all wanted something.

He caught sight of an inhumanly tall form and shivered.  The Nerds, unlike the Geeks, believed in unrestrained genetic engineering and exploration of human potential.  By now, centuries after the first of them had been forced to flee the Empire, there was a small subculture of genetically-modified humans running through the Beyond, all too aware that the Empire would shoot them and dissect them if they were captured.  Some could pass for baseline human; others, hybrids between human and animal DNA, were very far from human.  The Nerds had been willing to pledge their support, just like their counterparts, but they’d had a price.  The Empire’s restrictions on genetic engineering, intended to prevent commoners from improving themselves, had to be scrapped.

They weren't the only ones with a price.  The Free Traders, an organisation with links to Daria’s Freebooter League, wanted an end to price-fixing and the other games the massive Family-owned shipping cartels used to force the independents out of business.  The exiles wanted to return to their homes and liberate them from the Empire.  Various criminal organisations wanted an end to rules they considered oppressive.  Religious factions wanted freedom of religion, or even a chance to preach their particular gospel to the remainder of the Empire.  To all of them, Colin had been non-committal, although some of them struck more of a chord with him than others.  The only group he had refused outright had been a representative from the pirates, who had been willing to offer assistance in return for permission to loot and rape freely.  Colin had refused and asked Hester to make sure that no others like them were invited to the meeting.

“So you say,” he said.  He asked the question again.  “Is this really necessary?”

“They need to see you,” Hester said, unflappably.  “They need to know that you are real and that you have lines that you won’t cross, or you will discover that they’re either refusing to believe in you or moulding you into a symbol for their group alone.  Just keep smiling and it will all be over soon.”

Colin shook his head as another small group, this one composed of three young-looking women with old eyes, approached them.  They exchanged small talk for five minutes before the women shook his hand and departed, leaving him mystified as to their names or the identities of the groups they represented.  That wasn't too unusual along the Rim – paranoia was a survival instinct when the Empire was out there, intent on bringing the hidden colonies into line – but that group had been odder than most.  Colin caught himself staring after them and turned back to Hester, who was smiling.

“They call themselves the Daughters of Artemis, a clan of warrior women,” Hester explained, once the women were out of earshot.  “They’re regarded as a cult by the Empire, but they make good friends and dangerous enemies.  That said, they’re not going to trust you much; to them, you’re just another man.  They may help you out, if you ask, but they will never be your friends.”

Colin frowned.  The Rim still found ways to surprise him.  “And can they help us?”

“Oh, yes,” Hester said.  “They’re known for being savage fighters and they have a very strong intelligence network throughout the Empire.  There are even supposed to be versions of the cult within the Thousand Families” – Colin looked up, sharply – “as the lines are blurred along the Rim.  Who knows?”

She glanced down at her wristcom, forestalling any questions.  “And it is nearly time for you to speak,” she said, with a grin.  Her allies were already helping the guests find their way into the large auditorium.  “I hope that you haven’t forgotten the words.”

Colin scowled at her, but said nothing, his eyes seeking out Daria for reassurance.  He'd given presentations on tactics at the Academy, yet that was nothing like addressing over a thousand men and women, some of whom were almost certainly linked to the Empire.  Hester had pointed out that some of the underground leaders – the ones with massive prices on their heads – had been reluctant to attend, fearing the Empire and its intelligence services.

“I see,” Colin had said.  “So why are you here?”

Hester had smirked.  “I’m too old to care, dear boy,” she’d explained.  “If they want to capture an old crone like myself…I don’t care.”

Colin had expected that he would be first into the room, but Hester had explained that they had to make a presentation of it, something that showed how calm, relaxed and sure of final victory they were.  Colin had pointed out that they were none of those things, yet Hester had explained that perception was everything in a war of nerves.  If Colin and his associates looked comfortable and certain of victory, others would wonder if they were right – and, because they wanted to believe that there was hope for final victory, they would believe in him.  Colin hoped that they were right.

It struck him that it was an odd way to win a war.  He’d believed that they would be clashing against Imperial loyalists, first Admiral Percival’s sector fleet and then the might of the Imperial Navy when it finally realised that it had a significant problem on its hands.  Instead, of all things, they were giving a dinner party!  Colin knew that, along the Rim, luxury foodstuffs and fine wines were extremely expensive – algae-based food was edible, but no one could make it tasty – and they were practically giving it away.  He suspected that half of the guests had come merely for the food.

Anderson had warned, quite rightly, that many of the guests would have their own links to Imperial Intelligence.  Part of the reason they’d chosen the icy asteroid as a base for the meeting was because it was useless, a place that could be abandoned as soon as the meeting was finished.  Colin knew that he’d put his head in the noose, but as long as he was careful, there was only a small chance of being assassinated.  Anderson had insisted on disarming the guests, yet they had refused and Hester had backed them up.  So many resistance and underground leaders in one place was a tempting target for the Empire – or, for that matter, their rivals.

His wristcom buzzed, summoning him through a small door into a massive chamber.  He’d seen it earlier, but he hadn’t realised just how large it would be when populated, or how loud a roar would be raised when they saw him.  Hester, he suspected, had ordered her allies to cheer loudly the second Colin appeared, creating an impression of a warm welcome.  And part of it, he knew, was genuine.  He had, after all, liberated friends and allies from the penal world.  There were reunited families who had good cause to be grateful to him.

He refused to allow himself to flinch as he stepped onto the podium, Hester standing back to allow him to stand right in the centre of the room.  It had been designed to pick up and amplify every word he spoke, leaving him to wonder if it could pick up the beating of his heart.  It was thumping so loudly in his chest that he wondered that he could hear anything over the sound.

Slowly, as Hester had taught him, he raised his hands and the cheering slowly started to die away.  He caught sight of Cordova, sitting among a group of fellow captains, waving his massive hat at him.  Cordova’s approval counted for a lot, Colin realised, for his fellow captains were clapping and cheering too.  He’d expected only a handful of cheers; instead, it felt as if the sound might shake the entire asteroid.

”My friends,” he said.  Unlike the message he’d sent to Percival, he’d spent days with Daria and Hester, struggling to outline the speech.  They’d wanted to get it just right, warning him that not every group would be impressed, or willing to play with others.  The politics of the underground along the Rim were more complex than those at the heart of the Empire.  “The Empire has been a problem for too long.”

There were more cheers, shaking the entire room.  “We have all seen what it has done, in the past,” he said.  “We have seen the scorched remains of dozens of worlds.  We have seen the population of entire planets staved, crushed under by grinding taxes and corporate masters; we have seen lives destroyed and livelihoods wrecked.  The Empire has become nothing more than a parasite, draining the lifeblood of humanity itself!”

This time, the cheers were slightly muted.  He wasn't telling them anything they didn’t already know.  “I tell you now,” Colin continued, “that it is only going to get
worse
!  Now, even as we speak, the Empire overruns the last remaining independent system – the last remaining independent system that it knows about!  What will it do when it locates the colonies along the Rim?  It will carve them up, share them out among the Thousand Families…and destroy yet another way of life.  Is that what you want for your future?”

“NO,” the crowd shouted.  They couldn’t all be ringers, Colin knew.

“And what happens when the loot runs out and the Thousand Families turn on each other?”  Colin demanded.  “There will be war, civil war, with thousands of planets burning in the blackness of space and the Imperial Navy shattered, used as a weapon as the Families war against each other!  We cannot let that happen.  I say to you now that we will
not
let that happen!

“The Empire must be reformed!  The Empire will not reform, not of its own will; why should the Families give up their power?  They will refuse to make the reforms they need, even though the system they have created locks them into a course towards disaster.  We must reform the Empire and, to do that, we must force the Empire to be reformed!”

There were more cheers, with a new chant echoing through the room.  “REFORM, REFORM, REFORM…”

Colin waited, trying to gage the crowd.  He’d never believed that it was possible, but standing at the centre of the crowd, he could feel the wave of feelings washing over them.  Some were interested in reform, yet others wanted revenge – true revenge, the kind of revenge that could not be allowed.  The Thousand Families had younger members who could be convinced to join a reform movement, but they wouldn’t if it meant the deaths of their families and everyone they ever loved.  Colin knew that he would have to temper the desire for revenge, somehow…