The Thin Blue Line (The Empire's Corps Book 9) (v5.1) (38 page)

She paused. “If Keystone was killed,” she added, “why?”

Glen shrugged. His imagination could provide too many possible answers. The Nihilists had killed him for betraying them. The Governor – or an outside force – had killed Keystone after using him. Or ... it was quite possible that the glitch in Keystone’s headband had been genuine, with his death nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence. Glen rather doubted it – the odds against it were quite high – but it was possible. The prospect had to be taken into account.

“I wish I knew,” he said. He looked down at his terminal. “The Campus Police
did
find the body, so there will be a forensic team dispatched once his death starts alerting people. And if one isn't dispatched, it will raise more problems for us.”

Belinda nodded, then started to pace the small office. “Have you sorted out a security team yet?”

“I’m asking for three more Marshals as well as you and the security staff already on Island One,” Glen said. “I may not get the Marshals, Belinda. Everyone is considerably overstretched at the moment.”

“I wish I was surprised,” Belinda said. “Have you thought about asking for a Marine security detail?”

“There aren’t any Marines on the planet, apart from you,” Glen reminded her. “And you said the Slaughterhouse was gone. Where should we send the request?”

“Point,.” Belinda said. She didn't seem inclined to answer the question. “Have you seen the list of attendees?”

Glen nodded. Half of the military and civil leaders in the Core Worlds were attending in person, while the remainder were sending representatives. They’d be escorted, too, by battle squadrons of their own, threatening bloody mayhem if anything happened to them while they were on Island One. It would rapidly turn into a nightmare if anything
did
.

“We need to hold the conference somewhere in interstellar space,” he muttered. “But where could they go that would suit them?”

He sighed. The list of instructions for Island One’s staff had been clear. They were to provide the delegates with maximum luxury, up to and including courtesans from a high-class escort agency if requested. The courtesans alone would be a security headache; they’d need a great deal of very expensive soothing before they agreed that whatever happened on Island One would remain a secret, come what may. Their owners had a habit of supplementing their income by using pillow talk as a source of political intelligence. It said a great deal about human nature that it still worked, even thought everyone knew about it.

And then there was the food, the drink and the luxury accommodation, all of which would pose its own brand of headache ...

“It would be efficient, but it would not suit their dignity,” Belinda said. “What do you have in mind?”

She looked at the datapad Glen passed her. They and the remainder of the staff would move to Island One as soon as possible, taking security equipment from Terra Nova and transferring it to their new posting. The staff, including the courtesans, would arrive the following day, after being inspected before they left the planet and inspected again when they arrived on the space habitat. Food and drink supplies would be drawn from Island One’s stockpiles, if possible, and supplemented from Terra Nova after another security check if not.

And, after that, there would be no further contact between Terra Nova and Island One until the conference was over.

Glen sighed. Island One should have been easy to secure, but he had a nasty feeling there would be problems. The delegates would need to be inspected, yet they’d probably take that as a personal affront, disrupting the conference. And their aides, security guards and others would also need to be inspected, which would cause further problems. It was going to be a horrible nightmare, even if nothing went badly wrong.

“We’ll have to search Island One from top to bottom,” Belinda said, when she’d finished scanning the datapad. “And what about the residents?”

“They have a guaranteed right to stay on the habitat,” Glen said. “But they were all heavily vetted by the owners and there’s nothing wrong or alarming with them.”

“I hope so,” Belinda said. “But you might want to ask them to consider moving for the duration of the conference.”

“I will,” Glen said. “But they didn't go to Island One because they wanted a pleasant view, Belinda. They wanted security. And moving away would compromise it.”

“True,” Belinda agreed.

Glen’s terminal buzzed. “One moment.”

He picked it off his belt and glanced at it. “We’re getting two more Marshals,” he said, “and a handful of security officers trained in space operations. But not much else.”

“Drat,” Belinda said. “You’d better hope the staff is up to scratch.”

Glen sighed. “I’ll give orders for them to meet us at the spaceport,” he added. “We’ll get the equipment sorted out and then get onboard the shuttle.”

“And pick up Helen, of course,” Belinda offered. “She’ll enjoy her time on Island One.”

Glen had no doubt of it. Island One had plenty of wilderness that was safe for children; indeed, the brochures he’d accessed had shown tree houses and lakes suitable for swimming without the threat of hostile wildlife. There were so many pleasures available to the filthy rich that were simply not available to the children of the poor, trapped in box-like apartments on Terra Nova. He envied them more than he cared to admit.

“Lucky kids,” he said, out loud. He flickered through the terminal until it showed a picture of a treehouse. “I would have loved to have a treehouse as a child.”

“I had one,” Belinda said. “We built it for ourselves – actually, we had to rebuild it several times because it kept falling down until we mastered how to secure it properly.”

She took the terminal and shrugged. “That one was built by qualified engineers,” she added, “not children. It’s far too good to be made by a group of children.”

Glen sighed. “Where were you born?”

“Greenway,” Belinda said. “It's out on the Rim. My family had to learn to look after itself.”

“I’ve often thought about going out to the Rim,” Glen admitted. “Is it a good place to live?”

Belinda opened her mouth, then paused. “It depends what you want from life,” she said, after a moment’s thought. “There are no social security networks along the Rim, no one willing and obliged to take care of you if you run into trouble. You have to learn to work with your neighbours – help them and they’ll help you. And there are dangers out there that you don’t see on places like Earth.

“But, on the other hand, you can build a life of your own,” she added. “There won’t be anyone to force you to confirm, or to do as the government tells you. You’ll live and die by your own merits.”

Glen had to smile. “It sounds like paradise,” he said.

“You have genuine experience,” Belinda said. “Go to Greenway if you like, after the conference, or sign up for a stint as a Colonial Marshal. You might find you fit in very well.”

“I’ll find a way out,” Glen promised. He rose to his feet. “Do you want to go fetch Helen while we load up the shuttle?”

Belinda smiled. “Why not?”

***

Belinda had more experience than Glen, she suspected, in securing space stations against intrusions, but she hadn't been able to find anything wrong with his plans. He didn't really have the manpower she thought he needed, yet he’d been right; there really was very little manpower to draw on, now that chaos was gripping the streets. A company of Terran Marines would have been ideal, but they wouldn't be forthcoming. They were on their own.

The real question, she mulled over as she drove back to Glen’s apartment, was just what the Governor had in mind. Did he plan to declare himself Emperor? No matter how she looked at it, she couldn't imagine it sticking. Or did he intend to capture the delegates and force them to surrender their power to him? With so many warships primed to enter the system, it struck her as insane to try. Terra Nova would be destroyed in the crossfire if fighting broke out. Or was he genuinely trying to get them to work together?

It wasn't a thought she wanted to contemplate, but it had to be considered. There was more to be gained from pooling resources and power than there was from a civil war, particularly as the Empire would not survive a major conflict without Earth. The Governor might be willing to share the pie if he managed to control it, or get an agreement sorted out for sharing power – or even recognising his independence. But, if it wasn't the Governor who was behind the bizarre plot, who was? How many other suspects were there?

The only people she thought would actually
benefit
from a civil war were the Nihilists themselves. Outright war would destroy the infrastructure of the Core Worlds. Billions would die in the fighting, trillions more would starve as interstellar trade broke down and entire planetary populations ran out of food. The Core Worlds couldn't feed their vast populations without technology. If they lost it, they were doomed.

And
, she asked herself,
would that be a bad thing
?

It was a terrifying thought. Even
she
couldn't grasp the sheer enormity of losing the eighty billion lives on Earth, let alone the twenty billion on Terra Nova and several other Core Worlds. One death was graspable, which made it a tragedy, but over a trillion deaths were completely beyond her imagination. But she could see advantages to watching as the Core Worlds died. The colonies, the smaller worlds that weren't degraded or crushed by the Empire’s all-encompassing bureaucracy, would have a chance to breathe free.

Horrific
, Doug snapped.
Would you condone the deaths of trillions on the off-chance the colonies might manage to rebuild civilisation
?

Belinda parked the car, then put her head in her heads. Doug – or his ghost – was right. The thought of casually sentencing so many people to death was horrific. And yet, part of her regarded the idea with curious detachment. It was tempting. It could be rationalised into becoming acceptable, if she tried. She had no love for the couch potatoes who made up much of the population of the Core Worlds. The Empire might never have started to fall if they’d stood up and forced the politicians to be reasonable.

And yet, was it
right
to sentence them all to death?

She shuddered, remembering something she’d been told right back at the start of her training. It wasn't easy to find men and women who could be trusted with control over planet-killing weapons, then be trusted to fire them upon command. They had a tendency to become reluctant to press the button or, on the other hand, became obsessed with pushing the button. And, her instructors had added, several of them
had
fooled around with weapons that could destroy planets. If the security precautions had failed at any point ...

They wanted us to be the perfect operatives
, she thought, as she wiped tears from her eyes.
But even we break under the right level of stress
.

The voices were silent as she walked up the stairs and pressed her fingers against Glen’s sensor. It acknowledged her, allowing her to step into his apartment. Helen was sitting in front of the terminal, playing a game of chess with someone online. Belinda sighed inwardly, then cleared her throat. Helen looked up at her, then smiled.

“Is it time to go?” She asked. “Really?”

Belinda nodded, heavily. “Yes,” she said. “Abandon the game, grab your bag and let’s go.”

“This guy didn't believe me when I told him my age,” Helen said. “He thought I was an adult.”

“People born in the Core Worlds are less intelligent than people born in space,” Belinda said, although she knew it wasn't just a matter of birth. “Chances are he wouldn't have been allowed to develop his intelligence at a rate that suited him, Helen. He would have been held back by his tutors until he considered it to be natural.”

Helen stood up, after forfeiting the game. Belinda glanced at the stats and lifted her eyebrows, impressed. For someone who was only thirteen, Helen had won a surprising number of games against human opponents. No wonder they didn't believe her, Belinda realised, as she closed down the console. Child geniuses were very rare on the Core Worlds.

Because they go into the same educational stream as everyone else
, Belinda thought.
And whatever intelligence they have naturally is soon ground out of them
.

“They could use teaching machines,” Helen said. “I had one of them teaching
me
.”

“There are unions blocking it,” Belinda explained, shortly. The teachers union had managed to prevent the large-scale use of computerised teaching, claiming that students needed human contact, both with their tutors and other students. There were so many unfortunate implications in their words that Belinda was mildly surprised the judge hadn’t died laughing, but somehow the union had won the case. “You have to understand that most people care more for their own interests than for the interests of everyone else.”

Helen gave her a puzzled look. “Why?”

“Because one person can become disconnected from hundreds of people,” Belinda said. “And because we’re hardwired to care more about ourselves and our families than anyone else.”

“That’s stupid,” Helen protested.

Belinda nodded. Teaching machines were better than the Empire’s current crop of teachers; they both taught by rote, but teaching machines moved their students along as fast as they could, while they didn't try to grope or otherwise abuse their charges. Indeed, separating students from one another might have made it easier for them to learn. Belinda had never been unfortunate enough to study in a classroom on Earth, but she’d heard enough horror stories to know she never wanted her children to go there. Unfortunately, most parents and children on Earth were never given a choice.

“Yes, it is,” Belinda said. “Pass me your bag and we’ll go down to the car.”

Helen seemed oddly reluctant to leave the apartment, something that didn't really surprise Belinda at all, considering her origins. She was quite likely to have problems with wide open spaces, like most people who were born and bred in space. But, somehow, Helen managed to walk down to the garage, clutching Belinda’s hand in a surprisingly strong grip. Belinda felt an odd trace of affection and realised, for the first time, why Glen wanted to keep Helen around. There was something about her that invited love and affection.