The Thirteenth Man (8 page)

“I'm still waiting for that dance, spacer.”

Charlie turned about and found Del behind him, that playful look in her eye. They both knew it wouldn't be politic for him to dance with her at any of the events they'd recently attended. So they limited themselves to this simple little game. “The last time I attended a dance,” Charlie said, “I didn't see you there. There was this rather haughty princess, and she did look quite like you. But her name was Delilah, not Del. Let me tell you, though, if this spacer is ever at a real dance, and there's a girl named Del there, then he'll most certainly collect the dance she owes him.”

“And tell me, spacer, what's a real dance?”

“Loud,” Charlie said with a wink, “noisy, and no waltzes.”

“Delilah.” Dieter appeared at Del's shoulder. He looked at Charlie and the two breeds with obvious distaste. “What are you doing here?” he asked Del.

“Just watching.”

Dieter looked at the saber in Charlie's hand, then held out his own hand. “May I?”

Charlie handed it to him hilt first. Dieter took it and looked at it carefully. “Are you an expert in antique weapons, Cass?”

“Hardly an expert, Your Lordship.”

Dieter stepped back, tested the balance of the blade, swung once at an imaginary opponent, and demonstrated a textbook lunge. He clearly knew what he was doing.

“Obviously,” Charlie said, “you also practice with antiques.”

“Yes,” Dieter said, reversing the blade and returning it to Charlie. “It sharpens the reflexes, the timing.” He looked at Charlie carefully, his eyes narrowing. “Perhaps you and I, sometime, might test our skills.”

Charlie had a strong suspicion he wouldn't want such a match to happen. If Dieter killed him he'd merely have to apologize to Cesare. But if Charlie so much as pricked the skin of the heir to the de Satarna ducal seat, they could hang him. “Perhaps, Your Lordship.”

“Come, Delilah,” Dieter said, taking her arm and turning to leave, allowing her no choice in the matter. “I've been meaning to have a chat with you.”

Del went along complacently. But as they stepped out of the room she looked over her shoulder and winked at Charlie.

When they were gone Add said, “I think that someday you may have to kill him, little brother.”

 

CHAPTER 7

MYSTERIOUS VISITORS

C
harlie had not had the opportunity to bring Pelletier in on his schemes, so he'd asked Roacka to brief the major. The two men were waiting for him as he climbed the ladder to the gunboat's personnel hatch. In the small cabin near the cockpit there was no sign of the fifty odd marines slumbering in their combat armor in the cargo bay. Roacka wasted no time getting down to business. “Darmczek's ships are almost in position,” Roacka said. “They're not having any trouble remaining hidden behind false identities. The traffic density in this system is so high, traffic control doesn't have a chance to look closely at anyone. And besides, no one could broadcast proper identity codes without access to classified ciphers.”

“So,” Charlie asked, “why am I here?”

Roacka grinned. “Darmczek's almost as paranoid as you. Drifting into position slowly like they are, his ­people got a lot of time on their hands. So he's got them checking out all the ships in Turnlee nearspace, starting with those in the immediate vicinity of Turnlee, and expanding outward. They're taking a close look at each ship, correlating identity and make with emissions—­a quarter-­million-­ton destroyer emits a lot more noise than a quarter-­million-­ton freighter. And guess what . . .”

“I think you're going to tell me.”

Roacka put on that evil grin of his. “Someone else is playing the same game we are.”

“One of the other Nine?”

“It would have to be. Or Lucius himself. No one else could provide proper identity codes.”

“So we know about them, but do they know about us?” Charlie asked.

“Could be, but not likely. Darmczek's ships are running with a lot of nonessential systems shut down, basically matching their emission signatures to their fake identities. Our friends out there aren't doing the same, so we can assume they haven't caught on yet.”

Pelletier asked, “If it comes to a fight, how do we stand?”

Roacka looked smug. “By their emission signatures, looks to be four heavy cruisers and possibly one troop transport. With the element of surprise they could take the system. And forewarned as we are, with our flagship and those of Sig, Band, Rierma, and Faggan all working together, we'd still be outgunned, but could hold our own for a while. Those flagships just don't carry the firepower to stand up to a heavy cruiser. But add in Charlie's flotilla, and a little surprise of our own. As long as there're no reinforcements, we've got 'em reasonably outgunned.”

“Band and Faggan are in this, too?” Charlie asked.

Roacka answered him. “After you dropped those rather unsubtle hints to Talcott and Silas, they approached me. And less than a day later it was Esterhower and Corbin, Faggan and Band's guard captains. All four of them now have shuttles on the ground filled with marines, and everyone's ready to take orders from you if the shit goes down.”

Pelletier said, “Commander, I gotta say I'm a lot happier taking orders from a paranoid son-­of-­a-­bitch like you, being a paranoid son-­of-­a-­bitch myself.”

The man looked pleased, and that made Charlie nervous. This thing was getting out of hand. “Let's not overreact. My paranoia seems to have become rather contagious. If I'm wrong, and they find out what we've done here . . . I've broken the king's law, violating Turnlee nearspace, stationing armed troops on the grounds of the palace without his permission. So let's not let anyone jump the gun.”

“Don't worry about my ­people, Commander,” Pelletier said. “And I've had a long talk with Esterhower, Talcott, Corbin, and Silas. They won't screw up either.”

Roacka had a 3-­D situation summary on one of the shuttle's screens—­some serious firepower coming in surreptitiously. Could be benign, and then again not. “Contact Darmczek and tell him to have his ships tweak their positioning. Make sure there's one lined up on each of the intruders, at reasonably close range. I want the ability to put a large warhead into each of them, without warning, should the need arise.”

Roacka grinned. “Sucker punch, eh lad?”

“Ya, sucker punch it is. Tell Darmczek that if they start shooting first, he's to use his own discretion and proceed as he sees fit, but only if they start shooting first. And I want him to go as long as he can without playing his hand. If something really bad happens, we have the element of surprise. Let's take maximum advantage of that. But move cautiously. It could be just one of the other Nine bringing a little insurance along, doing no less than us. So let's not get trigger-­happy.”

Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. If this turned into a screw-­up and somebody jumped the gun, they'd hang him for sure.

“Here, lad,” Roacka said. “The major here's come up with something for you.”

Pelletier handed Charlie an odd looking little gun. “Roacka says you know how to handle antiques. That's no antique, but it's modeled on the principal of antique firearms. It's a chemical-­powered slug thrower. Pull the trigger and an explosive charge ejects a slug at high velocity. On impact, the slug expands and fragments, causing quite a bit of damage. Be ready for it to kick like hell and make a lot of noise. It's small and easily concealed, but don't let that fool you; it'll drop a grown man. It probably won't punch through powered armor, but it may have enough impact to make an armored opponent hesitate. No energy sources, no circuitry, all elements but the chemical explosive made of hardened organic materials, so they won't show up on any scanner. Barring a hand search, you can even pass the security around the king. You've got eight shots then throw it away. We don't have a lot of these, so we're issuing them only to key personnel, and the guards immediately responsible for the safety of Rierma, Sig, Band, Faggan, and Cesare.”

Next he handed Charlie a small flat card. “It looks like a small personal recorder for keeping notes and reminders, and it'll function to a limited extent as one. You can also use it to communicate with the combat command computer on this shuttle. But if someone were to do something sneaky, like jamming communications in your vicinity, its battery is too limited to punch a signal through any serious electronic countermeasures, and a power source large enough to do so would trigger every alarm in the palace. But this puppy has a special chemical charge in it that won't show up on any scanning or search equipment. It's keyed to your voiceprint. Press the record switch and speak the word ‘scramble' into it three times, then drop it, because it's going to get too hot to hold. The chemical charge burns hard and fast, producing enough power for a few seconds to punch a signal through almost any ECM or scrambling, at least enough to get through to this shuttle. The shuttle will relay the signal to Taggart and the other ships. When you activate it that's a signal to us that whatever is going to happen has started, and it'll also tell us where you are if we need to send a hard-­target extraction team after you. We're giving these to all key personnel too.”

Charlie looked at the device and turned it over in his hand. “Can you modify this?”

“To some limited extent, yes.”

“Good. Then I want it to activate on two types of signals. If I say ‘scramble' three times, then the shit's hitting the fan and I want those armed marines protecting the dukes and their heirs, and Darmczek goes on full alert. But if I say ‘sucker punch' three times, proceed just like the ‘scramble' signal and send in the marines, but also, Darmczek is to take out those bogies without warning or delay. He is to immediately put a big warhead into each of them. Can you modify it like that?”

Pelletier nodded. “Not a problem, Commander.”

Roacka said to Pelletier, “I told you he ain't as dumb as he looks.”

D
elilah looked like a goddess that night, dressed in a floor length gown and petticoat styled from another era. She stopped in front of Charlie in a swirl of skirts and lace. “I see you're on my dance card for the next dance, Commander.”

A lie, though not one that anyone could call her on. A dangerous folly, to dance with her in front of the eyes of the entire court—­not dangerous for her, but for him—­though clearly she didn't fully understand that.

And, at the moment, not dangerous enough for him to resist this opportunity.

He bowed properly. “Your Highness.”

As the band started a waltz he took her hand, put his other hand oh-­so-­chastely on her waist just above the curve of her hips, and swirled her out onto the dance floor.

“You're tense, Commander.”

“Am I dancing with Delilah or Del?”

“For you, I think I'm always Del. Does that make me brazen?”

“I have a suspicion that you're far more brazen than anyone here realizes. Perhaps even more than I realize.”

It was a lively waltz and she threw her head back and laughed as he twirled her about. She looked over his shoulder, and he saw her smother a chuckle. “Oh, Dieter is going to be so disappointed in me—­the brazen princess dancing with the penniless bastard. He presumes so much. But then I'll probably end up marrying him . . . for the good of the Realm.”

They both understood the realities of noble birth, and it was at times like these Charlie was thankful he had never been acknowledged by Cesare. She'd marry Dieter,
for the good of the Realm
, and if he found someone he could love, and she was common born, or at least not high in the ranks of the nobility, then Cesare would arrange everything for Charlie. But beneath the pretense, he and Del both knew they'd never have
that
dance.

The waltz came to an end. She stepped away from him, smiled, then stepped back in close and her eyebrows narrowed seriously. “Beware of my father,” she whispered. “He is a fool. A kindly fool, a fool I love dearly, but still a fool, and he's planning something sneaky.”

She stepped away from him and smiled once more. The entire hall seemed to have come to an uneasy pause. It took Charlie a moment to realize that as long as Del stood in the middle of the dance floor without an appropriate partner—­and Charlie was not an appropriate partner—­the music would not again start.

Martino suddenly appeared at her elbow, drink in hand. “Flaunting propriety, are we, my dear sister? Well, good, flaunt away. At least you have the balls to do so. I applaud you.”

Queen Adan appeared out of the crowd, a strikingly beautiful woman, frowning her disapproval at Charlie. She stepped between him and Delilah with her back to Charlie as if he weren't there. “Come, my dear. I have someone I want you to meet.” She hustled Delilah away.

The music started up again. Martino swayed a bit from side to side. “I suggest, Commander,” he slurred, “that we leave the dance floor. Otherwise, we shall be forced to dance with one another. And while I might find the scandal a bit enjoyable, it will only put your life in more danger.”

Perhaps Martino, though ever the drunk, was a bit more shrewd than Charlie had thought.

 

CHAPTER 8

THE BETRAYER BETRAYED

T
he palace was rife with rumors that Lucius's negotiations with Aagerbanne had stalemated. Arthur was of the opinion that Lucius had not negotiated in good faith, and had purposefully brought the discussions to an impasse. There would be an announcement the following day in high court, and Charlie went to bed that night not sure what to expect.

He rose early to prepare for high court. Winston had advised him of the appropriate time to appear: after most of the other commoners were in place, but prior to the arrival of any serious nobility. Charlie put on his best dress uniform—­not formal, formal wasn't appropriate for the business of court—­but still his best. Then, with his personal guard in tow, he headed for the throne room.

Walking with his guard, Charlie was lost in thought considering the dangerous ramifications of the Aagerbanne situation, when Del accosted him, grabbed his arm, and without ceremony pulled him through a door hidden behind some drapes. His guards followed.

They were in a corridor used by servants, though at that moment it was empty. “Wait here,” she said to his guards, then pulled him just far enough down the corridor so they could speak privately. His guards reacted to the princess pulling him into a private conversation with chuckles and grins.

“I have to warn you,” Del said breathlessly. “I don't know exactly what my father is planning, but it has something to do with the Syndonese. I think he's actually negotiating with Goutain, not just Tantin.”

Her revelation stunned Charlie, though it confirmed some of the more fantastic rumors he'd heard. He asked her a number of questions, but she knew nothing more. She'd heard, purely by chance, a word or two between her father and Adsin, and had drawn a rather broad conclusion from very little data. “Thank you,” he said, “but I have to go, and we shouldn't be seen together. Wait a few moments after I'm gone before you leave.”

She nodded, and he turned away from her. But he'd taken only a single step when she gripped his arm and pulled him back. Then she kissed him—­not a chaste little peck on the cheek or lips, but a full and unreserved kiss, her body pressed against his hot with passion and emotion. She then pushed him away and laughed. “No.
You
wait a moment, then leave.” She grinned as conspiratorially as Roacka might have, and walked away.

Charlie's guards had clearly enjoyed the exchange. So he shut them up with a few harshly snapped orders and their smiles disappeared. It was with the utmost respect, then, that the older, more senior one pointed out that he should remove the lady's lip paint from his own lips.

They made their way to the throne room and Charlie took a place among the masses of high-­ranking commoners and lesser nobility that lined the periphery of the massive hall, all waiting for the Nine to arrive. The whole time, though, he couldn't stop thinking,
The Syndonese! What are they in this?

“Eh, lad,” Roacka said, appearing at his elbow. “I'd ask you why you're so lost in thought, but I'd be lost too after a kiss like that.”

“I take it that's going to make the rounds of the barracks.”

“Not
going to
, lad. It's already made the rounds and come back again a time or two.”

Charlie leaned close to Roacka and whispered in his ear, “Can you get out of here?”

Roacka knew him well enough to realize that kissing princesses wasn't the subject at hand. “Sure, lad, I'm just a spectator.”

“Get hold of Darmczek on a secure channel. Have him cross-­check the emission signatures of those bogies against the signatures of known Syndonese warships.”

Roacka shook his head. “Nah, lad, can't be Syndonese. They don't have the clearance codes.”

Charlie looked at Roacka pointedly. “They do if Lucius gave them to Goutain.”

“Shit!” Roacka swore. “That fucking idiot.”

“Check it out. Now, not later.”

“Aye, lad.” Roacka disappeared into the crowd.

A few minutes later, signaling the beginning of events, Archcanon Taffallo appeared at the entrance to the hall. Preceded by two boys in novitiate's robes carrying burning incense, and flanked by churchmen of high rank, all dressed in heavily brocaded robes, they moved slowly up the center of the great hall, with Taffallo calmly throwing blessings to right and left. As they approached the throne they turned right, to what would soon be the king's left when seated on the throne. Taffallo's seat was, in itself, a throne, though lower and less elegant than the seats the Nine would occupy, which themselves were lower and less elegant than the king's throne. Taffallo's attendants would stand, flanking him and behind him.

The Nine appeared, entering to the sound of trumpet fanfare, all dressed in robes of state and marching slowly up the center of the hall in order of precedence, Nadama and Cesare in the lead walking side by side. Drums rolled, cymbals crashed, and as they passed, everyone bowed or curtsied, some more deeply than others. At the throne they turned left, for by tradition they'd all sit at the king's right hand, and there they assumed their appointed places.

A few moments later Charlie noticed Adsin appear from a private entrance hidden behind the throne. As the last notes of the trumpets died, the lord chamberlain of the court struck his staff three times on the floor, and a deep silence descended. “His Majesty, Lucius the First, third to carry the blood of the Stephanovs, thirty-­second in succession of the Plenroix, Harlburg, and Stephanov empire . . .”
Empire
was a word Lucius had added. “ . . . king of the nine beasts, guardian and protector of the ­people's faith.”

The Nine and Taffallo all stood, and along with everyone else bowed or curtsied deeply as Lucius appeared, Adan at his side, Martino and Delilah and a train of attendants behind them. Like the Nine before them they marched slowly up the center. The fanfare, the drumrolls, the cymbal crashes, the trumpets' blare—­they were quite the same as what they'd all suffered earlier at the entrance of the Nine, just louder and longer. The noise continued as Lucius, Adan, Martino, and Delilah ascended to the throne, and it didn't die until some seconds after Lucius sat down. Adan then sat on her smaller throne, with Martino standing on Lucius's right and Delilah standing on Adan's left.

Charlie, as was appropriate for all common men in the throng, had dropped to one knee and bowed his head, while all men of noble station had merely bowed deeply. A profound silence descended as Lucius let them remain so for several seconds, and Charlie realized that one knee wasn't a difficult position for a man to hold, but for the women, an arrested curtsy could be an excruciating affair if forced to hold it for any length of time.

“Rise,” Lucius called out. “Please, all rise.”

The petticoats of the ladies hissed noisily as everyone stood, and the Nine and Taffallo returned to their seats.

“It's rare,” Lucius continued, “for us to have all of our most trusted vassals assembled at once.” He nodded regally toward the Nine. “And when we do, there is much that must be done. We have before us . . .”

Charlie tuned him out and carefully scanned the crowd looking for Roacka. Each of the Nine had a bodyguard standing behind them, hidden in the shadows of long, velvet drapes. Charlie could just make out Add's silhouette behind Cesare. Each also had their heir and an advisor standing more visibly behind them, and of course for Cesare that was Arthur and Winston. Charlie couldn't locate Ell in the crowd, but if he had he would've sent her after Roacka. Syndonese! What schemes had Lucius come up with that involved the Syndonese? And was there an immediate threat, or just some conniving power play?

Lucius droned on. There was something about a territorial dispute with one of the independent states. He authorized a minor earl to organize a committee to study the matter so that a peaceful negotiation might ensue. Titles and properties were granted, to which the king gave his blessing. It was all business hammered out previously in private counsel with the king and the Nine, now made public. Charlie continued to scan the crowd for any sign of Roacka, but when the lord chamberlain loudly announced something about Aagerbanne, Charlie's attention snapped back to the business of the court.

Adsin had stepped forward and stood on the dais to one side of the king and one step down from the throne. “His Majesty has asked me to address the situation with Aagerbanne.”

Charlie glanced up and saw Cesare frowning, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“As you all know,” Adsin continued, “the crown has, for some time, been negotiating for unlimited access to the Aagerbanni port facilities on Aagerbanne Prime, which would give us access to all the trade routes into the independent states. It would be a financial windfall for all nine duchies as well as independent merchants throughout the Realm.”

Someone near Charlie grumbled quietly, “But mostly for the crown.”

As Adsin spoke, his eyes seemed to focus on Charlie. “The discussions were going quite well until about a tenday ago, and then for some reason progress slowed. After several more days of attempted negotiations on our part, it was determined that the Aagerbanni delegates were not negotiating in good faith, so they were placed under arrest yesterday morning.”

A background of whispers erupted from the crowd as Adsin pointedly looked to the lord chamberlain at the far end of the hall. “Lord Chamberlain,” he said.

The lord chamberlain rapped his staff three times on the floor and called out, “Charles Cass is called to stand before His Majesty.”

There was a moment of near silence, punctuated by shuffling of feet, then the hiss of whispers from the crowd turned into a rising murmur. The fellow in front of Charlie realized he was standing in Charlie's way, and he stepped politely aside. That seemed to be a signal for the rest as the crowd parted slowly and a narrow aisle opened before him. Charlie glanced up to Cesare; the look of suspicion on his face had deepened. Winston and Arthur both shrugged, telling Charlie that connecting him to Aagerbanne was a surprise to them all.

With no choice in the matter Charlie walked forward carefully. He was more than half the length of the hall from the throne as he stepped into the open aisle that ran up its center. He turned to Lucius, bowed deeply, and strode forward. He knew the required formulas, and at the base of the dais he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”

“Rise, Commander Cass. Stand and let Us see your face.”

Charlie rose and looked up toward the throne. Adan couldn't hide her dislike, while Martino was clearly bored and Delilah appeared nervous and tense. Perhaps it was Lucius's smug, self-­satisfied, and self-­important expression that gave her cause for concern. Certainly it gave Charlie cause, for it was clear Lucius was about to reveal something.

Lucius scanned the court dramatically and returned his gaze to Charlie. “We know, Commander, that you are greatly concerned about Our negotiations with Aagerbanne, and the possibility of armed conflict. We know too that you hope for a peaceful resolution to this dilemma. And that's truly admirable in a warrior such as you. Such a combination, the skills of war in a man of peace, is rare indeed, and We see so many ways one such as you might serve the crown. And too, We recognize the debt owed to one who has served Us in the past with such valiant endeavor.”

Charlie began to fear the worst. He glanced quickly toward the seated Nine, and all but Nadama were hanging on Lucius's every word. Whatever
it
was, it looked like Nadama was in on it.

“We have sought, therefore, to find the peaceful resolution you so dearly desire. In fact, We've made it imperative, a prerequisite to any solution. We've thought long and hard on this matter, and with counsel from Our most valued advisors . . .” Lucius nodded briefly toward Adsin. “ . . . we have, We believe, a solution that satisfies the needs of all.”

Out of the corner of his eye Charlie caught some movement in the gallery where the Nine sat. Again he glanced toward them and saw that Add had stepped out of the shadows with Roacka at her side. Roacka leaned forward and whispered in Cesare's ear, while Add stared intently at Charlie, her right hand raised casually up to her left shoulder where Charlie could see it. In breed handspeak she signed
Yes . . .
but before she could go on Lucius continued, “There were many questions that We must answer in these deliberations, but there were two key elements to a peaceful resolution. One, how do We proceed from a position of strength? For if one is strong, the opposition loses its vigor, loses its resolution. The second question: how do We administer a new, and possibly unruly, province in a peaceful fashion?”

The words “new and unruly province” produced a rising buzz from the crowd. Lucius paused, waited for silence to return, and Charlie glanced again up to Add.
Yes
, she signed.
Syndonese. . .

“The answer to the second question was quite simple,” Lucius continued, “and he stands before Us now, a man of peace who is quite capable of war. To that end, We have this day signed and placed Our seal upon documents annexing Aagerbanne as a Crown State Holding. And we appoint you, Commander Cass, as governor general of the province, responsible for all military and police matters, and reporting only to the new viceroy, whom we shall appoint shortly.”

The entire hall erupted. Telka, Cesare, and Band jumped to their feet. Faggan, Sig, Rierma, Harrimo, and Karlok leaned forward in their chairs, all but Nadama calling out to the king, some shouting.

Yes, Syndonese,
Add signed.
Troops landing now.

The lord chamberlain rapped his staff on the floor. “Silence. Silence in the presence of the king.”

The noise dwindled to a low rumble, then a light buzz, and Lucius continued, “The first question, how to proceed from a position of strength, was far more difficult to answer. But the answer, while not obvious, turned out to be a brilliant stroke that in one move turns a potential source of opposition into a source of strength. Commander Cass, let me introduce His Excellency, President Goutain.”