Tarnished Knight

Chapter Seven

Three days without a disaster. That made it three good days.

Drakon sat going over the latest reports. The citizens were suitably enthusiastic about real elections for low-level local officials, and the propaganda about taking it all slow seemed to be working to keep all but the hotheads happy. The hotheads themselves were being monitored by the police, and if they got too warm, they would find themselves being cooled off the hard way.

He paused, watching a vid of snake families being lifted to the merchant ship that would haul them to Prime. Crowds of citizens watched the shuttles lift, cheering wildly. Having spilled the blood of the actual snakes, the people seemed satisfied with expulsion from the star system for the family members. As the shuttles closed on the merchant ship, the virtual windows in their passenger compartments would show a dozen heavy cruisers and numerous smaller warships approaching the planet or orbiting nearby. The majority of those warships were illusions, but hopefully the deception would fool the families, who would surely be interrogated when they reached Prime. Win/win. Iceni had a good idea there. I just wish we could be sure we have eliminated or found every snake in this star system.

I’m actually certain that we haven’t. There are more out there somewhere. If those four turned snakes I’m hiding try anything or contact anyone, I’ll know it the instant it happens, but I doubt that they were tied into anything like deep-cover programs. That’s not how the snakes worked. They kept as many secrets from their own lower-level workers as they did from the rest of us.

Everything seemed to be going well, but Iceni had been increasingly moody and irritable as the days went by. “Malin,” he called over the command circuit, “do we have anything new on what President Iceni is doing?”

“I learned a short time ago,” Malin offered, “that the commander of one of the heavy cruisers, someone named Akiri, has been transferred to an assignment on the surface of the planet. His new title will be Adviser to the President on mobile forces issues.”

“Adviser to the President, huh? Which entails what?”

“We have no specifics on the job, General,” Malin replied.

A job with no defined purpose? Ha. I’ve seen that maneuver before. Iceni wanted Akiri out of where he was but didn’t want to raise any fuss over it, so she “promoted” him to a meaningless job. “What do we know about Akiri?”

“An undistinguished record, no known mentor or sponsor. Command of that unit was the highest he would ever go.”

That fit. After a few months, when no one was any longer paying attention, Iceni would probably slide Akiri into some obscure job suitable to his limited talents. “Who took over command of the cruiser?” Drakon asked.

“An executive named Asima Marphissa who was second-in-command. She’s been promoted to sub-CEO. There were a number of more senior executives bypassed in favor of Marphissa.”

“Hmmm. It sounds like President Iceni is grooming this Marphissa for bigger things.”

Malin nodded, his eyes distant with thought. “The new flotilla commander?”

“Could be, though Iceni will probably wait a month or so before doing that for the sake of appearances since Marphissa is being boosted over people with more seniority. See what you can learn about why Iceni has taken an interest in this Marphissa and whether it’s going to be a full-bore patron relationship.”

“Yes, sir. Is there anything else?”

Drakon hesitated. “President Iceni strikes me as being increasingly temperamental over the last few days. Do we have any indications of what might be making her unhappy?”

“She has encountered Morgan, sir.”

“Very funny. I already have to deal with one volatile female in the form of Morgan. I don’t need another in President Iceni, and it’s not like what I know of her. I think something has her seriously worried. See if you can find out what.”

Malin spoke carefully. “We are maintaining troops at a higher state of alert than called for by the situation, General.”

“You know why that is. I need to be ready to react fast if we learn that President Iceni is getting ready to move against me.”

“She is very likely worried that the heightened alert status means that you intend moving against her unilaterally, sir.”

“Are you advocating that I stand down? That would give her a lot more room to maneuver.”

“You know my assessment, sir,” Malin said. “I am confident that President Iceni is willing to accept partnership with you and will only strike at you if she believes that you are preparing to strike at her.”

“You’ve been wrong in your assessments sometimes. I’ll think about it. I’m also worried about more Colonel Duns popping up. I know we can trust Colonels Kai, Rogero, and Gaiene, but the locals are another matter.”

“Colonel Morgan is investigating all of them as you directed,” Malin said. “She is thorough, as well as highly distrustful. It is unlikely that anything will get past her.”

And that assignment kept her and Malin from interacting too much for a while. Drakon nodded. “When I get Morgan’s report, I’ll make a decision. Did we ever learn anything that would tell us what was in the transmission Colonel Dun sent right before she died?”

“No, sir. There wasn’t anything recoverable in Dun’s equipment. We do know that it went to the cruiser that was taken over by the ISS agents aboard and not to anyone else in the star system. The cruiser does not appear to have relayed that message back into the star system to anyone on this planet before it entered the hypernet gate.”

What had Dun wanted to tell the snakes on that warship? What had been important enough to be what Dun surely suspected would be her last transmission to anyone? But thinking about that led back into memories of seeing Malin aiming at Morgan’s back, and Drakon didn’t want to go there. “Let me know if we get any clues as to what the message was.”

“Perhaps President Iceni might have some ideas of what the message could have been,” Malin suggested. “She is in constant contact with the mobile forces and has experience in commanding them.”

“That’s possible.” Drakon sat back, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t see any sense in telling her about it until I had some idea what it meant. And I don’t entirely trust the mobile forces anyway. Maybe that’s what’s giving President Iceni problems. Is she concerned about the loyalty of those warships? If more of them went the way of that cruiser, it could be real bad for us and weaken her own position relative to me.”

“I will see what I can learn,” Malin said.

“What about that assistant of hers? Togo? Could she be worried about him?”

“He is very loyal to her as well as very dangerous, sir. Extremely valuable to President Iceni, and he is also one of her most effective weapons.”

“Really?” Togo had seemed distinctly unthreatening at the meetings where Drakon had seen him, but then a real pro would maintain that sort of low profile. “Can he be bought?”

“I doubt it, but I can make some discreet inquiries through third parties.”

If Togo couldn’t be bought, and he was both deadly and important to Iceni, he would have to be dealt with too if Drakon was forced to move against her. “Is he anything you and Morgan couldn’t handle if it came to that?”

“I would be hesitant to take him on myself. Morgan could probably do the job, but it would be a challenge even for her. However, I strongly advise against such a move. Taking out Togo would be a declaration of war against President Iceni and might spur her to make some rash actions against whoever she thought was responsible.”

“Is there anything going on between them?”

“No, sir. Purely business, subordinate and CEO.”

“You know how much ground that can cover, Bran.” After the call ended, Drakon found his thoughts fixed on Iceni and Togo. What did it matter to him if she did use Togo to satisfy her physical needs? It happened all the time in CEO ranks. But he had never been comfortable with the idea, a stance that only seemed to lead to frustration since nearly every woman he met worked for him, and those who didn’t work for him could too easily be assassins working for someone else. It had been far too long, and that just made the pressures of his job a bit harder. Maybe that’s what’s bothering Iceni, too. Maybe it’s been a while for her. Too bad she and I couldn’t… Yeah, right. Two CEOs in bed together? Who decides who gets to be on top?

But even though he dismissed the idea, it kept lingering in the back of his mind until he gave up in disgust and got up to work out.

Before he left his office, though, Drakon paused, thinking. He made another call. “Colonel Malin, inform all ground forces unit commanders they are to stand down to alert status four effective immediately.”

He had sent her a clear peace offering. It would be interesting to see how Iceni responded.

“General Drakon, we have received authorization codes from President Iceni’s office allowing us to link to the mobile forces units in this star system. We can now monitor their readiness states.”

So, she had returned his gesture in kind. Both of them still had their weapons, but both of those weapons had been powered down. Drakon started to relax, but he tensed a bit again at Malin’s next words. “I also should inform you that Colonel Morgan has returned from her latest inspection and investigation,” Malin reported, his voice and face extremely neutral. “I believe that you can expect to see her in the very near future,” he added before ending the call.

Great. Now what has Morgan’s pants in a twist? Maybe she found another Colonel Dun situation, but if she did, why wait to tell me until she got back? That’s the sort of problem Morgan would want to address right away and with some form of lethal weapon. Sighing, Drakon waited for her to show up.

As Malin had predicted, he didn’t have to wait long.

Morgan didn’t quite slam open the door to his office, but that was because she knew better than to pull that sort of drama with Drakon. “How long had Rogero been working with the snakes?”

So that was what this was about. Even Morgan knew that she couldn’t go after Colonel Rogero, or Kai or Gaiene, without clearing it first. And apparently she had also learned that Drakon already knew all about Rogero’s situation. Only Malin could have told her that, and he had probably enjoyed watching her reaction.

Drakon leaned back, deliberately casual, as he answered. “Colonel Rogero had been working for the ISS for a few years.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Morgan was seething, looking dangerous as well as angry.

“I figured you’d find out.”

“But you told Malin?”

“He figured it out, too,” Drakon replied, being careful not to add before you did. When that message had come for Rogero while the Alliance fleet was transiting through this star system, it had made it all but inevitable that both Morgan and Malin would eventually follow that thread to its source.

Morgan leaned forward, her hands resting on the front of his desk, still angry but also curious. “Why? Why is Rogero still alive? He’s been a source for the snakes. He could have ratted us all out before we took down the snakes.”

“No.” Drakon kept his calm demeanor. “I knew from the first day that Rogero had been approached by the snakes and told to cooperate or else. He told them nothing about me that I didn’t want him to say. Rogero helped lull the snakes into thinking I wasn’t planning anything.”

“He was your agent? Doubled against the snakes? But what about the Alliance, General? What about the fact that Rogero’s loyalty is so far compromised that he’s involved with some enemy bitch?”

“I knew all about that, too. I knew about it when I got Rogero transferred back to my command, and that took some string-pulling. The government wanted Rogero stuck on a labor-camp staff on some hellhole world until he died. That’s where he and the Alliance officer got involved with each other, at the labor camp where Rogero had been transferred for using his head in a crisis instead of just following procedure.” Drakon reached out and grabbed his drink, taking a long slug of caff. “I gave some snake exec the idea of using him as a source against the Alliance, so the ISS helped me get it done. The snakes set things up for the Alliance woman to get liberated and Rogero to send and receive messages with her. I knew that they’d also tell him to report on me, but that way I knew who one of the snake spies was.”

“You worked with the snakes to put a spy on your own staff?” Morgan stared for a moment, then laughed. “You’re crazy!” Something in her voice made it sound as if that made Drakon the most desirable man in the galaxy.

He couldn’t help grinning. “Like a fox.”

“Yes! So the ISS got Rogero’s Alliance bitch freed and back in their fleet? Where’s she right now? I know she’s with Black Jack’s fleet, but what is she doing?”

“She’s in command of one of the Alliance battle cruisers.”

Morgan paused, a smile growing. “A battle cruiser commander? In Black Jack’s fleet? And she’s hot for Rogero? Forgive me, General. You’re not just crazy. You’re crazy brilliant.”

“Thanks.” Drakon shrugged. “Whether she’s still hot for him is an open question. The message she sent Rogero when Black Jack’s fleet passed through here last time could be summed up as ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ It subtly asked for information on the situation here but doesn’t give any clues to her current feelings.”

Flopping onto a sofa, Morgan sprawled out, a leg cocked over one end of the sofa. “What did our lover boy reply?”

“Rogero didn’t send a reply. Iceni managed to get him the message without the snakes finding out, but anything he sent in answer might have been spotted by the snakes and he was only supposed to communicate with the Alliance woman through them. That would have attracted attention from the snakes that could have been deadly for all of us.”

“Yeah.” Morgan gazed thoughtfully toward the opposite wall, one hand absently stroking the hand weapon holstered at her hip. “But how does Rogero feel? Does he want to run off with this bitch?”

Drakon hitched forward a bit, speaking more forcefully. “Rogero’s feelings are up to him as long as he stays loyal to me, and I strongly advise that you not describe the Alliance woman in that way if there is any chance of Rogero’s hearing you.”

Morgan grinned. “He’s in looooove, huh? Men are so damned easy. He’s probably dreaming about taking a shuttle out to meet his sweetheart when that fleet comes back, so they can both have some happily-ever-after on some Alliance hick world. But, boss, you can’t let someone who knows as much as Rogero does go over to the Alliance.” She sounded relaxed and casual, but her hand, as if of its own accord, tightened about the grip of her hand weapon.

“If Rogero makes that decision, it’s his to make. He’s earned that from me, and I know he won’t tell the Alliance anything that would hurt me.”

“Sir, seriously, you’re crazy brilliant, but you don’t always want to do what you need to do.” Morgan smiled wider. “That’s why you need me.”

Drakon kept his own expression somber. “I also need Rogero. Nothing is to happen to him unless I say so.”

“General—”

“I mean it, Morgan. I want to see what Rogero tells this battle cruiser commander of Black Jack’s when that fleet gets back here.”

“If it gets back here, you mean,” Morgan said. “They went diving deep into enigma space. Nothing we sent in has ever come back from there.”

“Nothing of ours,” Drakon agreed. “Except you.”

The catlike assurance vanished and her eyes went cold for a moment, as if endless space itself were looking out through them. “They sent in someone else. She had my name, she looked like me. But she died. I came back.” The coldness faded, replaced by Morgan’s usual steely intensity. “Black Jack may have bitten off too much this time.”

“Maybe. But then, we never beat the enigmas. He did.”

Morgan’s eyes flashed again at that, this time with heat, and Drakon understood exactly why. It grated on him, too, that this Alliance officer, a man who by all rights should have died a hundred years ago, had not only crushed the mobile forces of the Syndicate Worlds but also smashed an enigma fleet attacking Midway Star System. The Syndicate Worlds had been in arm’s-length contact with the alien enigma race for more than a century but had learned less in that time than the Alliance had somehow figured out in a much shorter period. They had all been saved by Black Jack, but mingled with their thankfulness were very strong feelings of envy and resentment.

Black Jack must have been in survival sleep for that century, Drakon thought. He didn’t seem to have aged much if at all. Had the Alliance actually lost him after the battle at Grendel? There were unconfirmed intelligence reports that that might have been the case, that Black Jack had been in a damaged survival pod. Or had the Alliance deliberately kept their hero in cold storage for decade after decade until they decided things were desperate enough to thaw him out? That was what the Syndicate government would have done with a hero who was big enough to possibly challenge them. The Alliance government claimed to be different from the Syndicate government, but was it?

Morgan sat silent before looking back at Drakon and smiling again. “I could get to him. Like Rogero got to that Alliance battle cruiser commander. When Black Jack gets back, I’ll send him some messages. Hero-worship stuff. Adoring-female attention. He’ll bite.”

Drakon returned her gaze, seeing how she was draped across the sofa, her tight skin suit emphasizing every curve. Beautiful and dangerous, a combination that set the little monkey that all men carried in their heads to jumping up and down with excitement. And Morgan knew it. “Black Jack might already have a woman. There are some rumors.”

“Not a woman like me.” Morgan winked and stood up. “It’s worth trying, right?”

He tried to weigh the idea dispassionately, feeling a spark of jealousy at the thought of Morgan with Black Jack, and doing his best to bury that feeling. Leverage over Black Jack. Inside information on what he intended. It was impossible to overstate how valuable those things could be. “Maybe. Did you discover anything else?”

“Nope. If there are any more snake sleepers out there, none of them are in command positions in the ground forces,” Morgan declared confidently.

That was good news. If anyone could have found those sleepers, it would have been Morgan.

Sub-CEO Akiri never knew what killed him.

The assassin who entered his room through bypassed alarms and locks stabbed a nerve paralyzer into Akiri’s neck, waited a moment to confirm that Akiri was dead, then headed for the next target.

Mehmet Togo, blessed with keener instincts or perhaps the protection of guardian ancestors that he had secretly continued to revere despite official Syndicate discouragement of such “superstition,” awoke as the assassin entered his bedroom. Grabbing his weapon, rolling off the bed, and firing as he dropped to the floor, Togo watched dispassionately as the killer fell backward and lay unmoving. In his haste, he had aimed a killing shot rather than an incapacitating one, an inexcusable failure which meant the assassin would be answering no questions.

Sub-CEO Marphissa’s life was saved by an unauthorized secondary hatch alarm that she had rigged up and bribed the cruiser’s electrical officer to ignore. The silent alarm woke her in time for Marphissa to seize the hand weapon that every prudent Syndicate CEO, sub-CEO, and executive kept near at hand in the event that someone else sought improved promotion opportunities. As the assassin finished bypassing the regular alarm and entered her stateroom Marphissa put a shot into his chest, then, despite strict regulations to capture intruders so they could be subjected to exhaustive interrogation, slammed three more shots into him as he hit the far bulkhead.

Regulations be damned; she had no intention of letting the killer get back up again.

Sub-CEO Marphissa’s call came in as Iceni was receiving Togo’s report. “I have alerted all mobile forces, but it appears that there was only one assassin,” Marphissa said. “No others have been detected, and no one was killed, so I was either the first target or the only target. I do not think this was a… routine… assassination attempt.”

“I agree,” said Iceni. “We also had an assassin strike down here. Sub-CEO Akiri was not as fortunate as you. He and the assassin are both dead.”

“Someone struck at both me and Sub-CEO Akiri?”

“That’s correct. In the same night.” Iceni looked at Togo. “Have my bodyguards found anyone else inside the complex?”

“No, Madam President. I have analyzed how the assassin penetrated the complex, and it does not appear that she could have reached your living area. The means she had to penetrate security were not good enough to overcome those defenses.”

“Good. Have you identified the assassin on your cruiser, Sub-CEO Marphissa?”

Marphissa made an angry noise before she answered. “He is a blank. Not part of the crew, not listed on any mobile forces registry. But we’re nowhere near any occupied orbiting facilities. No one could have reached this unit from a distant location without being detected!”

Togo’s voice stayed unperturbed. “The assassin here is also a blank. No identity files match her, not ground forces, or mobile forces, or any citizen files.”

“How is that possible?” Marphissa asked. “ISS surveillance software would have spotted the presence of someone who wasn’t in the files even if they were never seen. I know that. Someone like that leaves a hole, a place where someone is doing things but that has no one apparently in it, that’s obvious to the software.”

“The assassin here could have come from many places,” Iceni said.

“Sub-CEO Marphissa is correct, though, that the killer would have needed assistance to remain undetected on the planet,” Togo said. “Someone in a high position.”

Iceni eyed him. “Are you prepared to name that person?”

“I note only that General Drakon has not notified us of an assassin striking his staff this night, Madam President. There have been no alarms or unusual activity from any ground forces location.”

That could be a damning bit of evidence, except that Iceni was certain Drakon knew how to do things like this right. Identify someone expendable on your own staff, someone you didn’t mind getting rid of, and off them at the same time as assassins hit your opponent. It provided cover and helped get rid of deadwood on your own staff. That was basic CEO tactics. If she had judged Drakon even remotely right, he couldn’t have been stupid enough to leave himself unmarked if he had targeted Iceni’s people this night. “How could General Drakon have gotten a killer onto Sub-CEO Marphissa’s cruiser? Sub-CEO, you say the assassin on your cruiser could only have come from one of the warships near you?”

“Yes, Madam President.”

“What if he used one of those ground forces stealth suits?”

“We would have found it after we killed him,” Marphissa said. “We did find a standard survival suit in a waste receptacle that hadn’t been purged, but it could have come off any unit.”

“The killer disposed of his survival suit?” Iceni asked. “Then it was a suicide mission, not just an assassination.”

“Yes, Madam President. I would have to agree.”

A suicide mission. That didn’t sound like Drakon’s ground forces. It sounded like—“ISS.”

Marphissa gazed at Iceni uncomprehendingly. “You think there were still snakes among the crews on our mobile units? But every one of these units has purged Syndicate loyalists from the crews, and no one could have left a unit, even just in a survival suit, to come over to this cruiser without someone on that unit detecting the departure.”

Iceni glanced at Togo. “These purges were thorough?”

“Yes!” Marphissa insisted. “Look what happened on HuK-6336 when they left the other loyalist units. Two-thirds of that crew died in the fighting!”

“That would seem to—” Iceni stopped speaking, recalling that when she had first heard that HuK-6336 had left the other loyalist warships, she had recently finished talking to Drakon.

About the discovery of a deep-cover agent for the ISS. Someone who did not seem to be ISS.

“Sub-CEO Marphissa,” Iceni said, trying to keep her voice calm, “did you not tell me once that you never spoke with the officers aboard HuK-6336 prior to the overthrow of the snakes?”

“Yes, Madam President,” Marphissa replied, plainly surprised at the question. “They had arrived in this star system only a week prior to our operation and spoken only with CEO Kolani.”

“Then your first personal knowledge of the officers on HuK-6336 came after they said they had killed all of the snakes aboard as well as all Syndicate loyalists?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know any of the officers on HuK-6336 prior to that? Did anyone on any of the other units with you?”

“No, Madam President, but that’s far from impossible. The mobile forces have many officers in them.”

Togo understood. He had realized what Iceni was driving at and had tensed.

“How,” Iceni asked, “do you know that the men and women you have spoken with actually are mobile forces officers?”

“I… we looked at the crew roster they provided when they joined up… but what—” The sub-CEO’s mouth fell open. “Do you mean… ?”

“I mean, perhaps what actually happened was that the snakes and firmest Syndicate Worlds loyalists aboard HuK-6336 slaughtered the real officers and any of the crew whose loyalty was in any way doubted, then replaced the actual crew roster with one showing the snakes as the officers and identifying the real officers as the dead snakes. HuK-6336 didn’t surprise C-625 by staying behind when the cruiser took the hypernet gate. That was an act to fool us. The snakes on HuK-6336 had orders to stay behind.”

“A Trojan horse full of snakes,” Marphissa whispered, her eyes wide. “And they’re positioned near the other mobile forces now. Madam President, I don’t have any means of boarding HuK-6336 and taking it over. Not by surprise, and not by assault. We have no special forces on any of my units.”

That was something she should have already arranged with Drakon, Iceni thought irritably, and there was no time to get those special forces sent up there now. “What else can you do?”

Marphissa paused, eyes intent. “I can cut HuK-6336 out of the command net without its being known to that unit. They’ll think they’re still linked in. Then I can order the rest of my warships to power up their shields and their hell lances.”

“Won’t HuK-6336 be able to spot that?”

“They will, after the process is well under way on the other units. If I see that HuK is starting to get its own shields up and weapons readied, I’ll order them to stop. If we can get full combat preparations on the other warships and the HuK hasn’t matched them, they’ll be helpless.”

Iceni looked for holes in what of necessity had to be a quickly improvised plan. “What if the HuK keeps preparing for combat despite your orders?”

“Then, with your permission, I will have all other units fire upon HuK-6336. That will be the only option that will prevent HuK-6336 from either escaping or inflicting damage on other units.”

“That seems an extreme solution given that we are only operating on suspicion as of yet,” Iceni said.

“Madam President, if those on HuK-6336 are mobile forces officers, they will obey my orders not to prepare for action. They would not be insane enough to go against those orders, knowing that I could destroy them.”

After a long moment, Iceni nodded. “You make a good argument, and I agree that we have no other choice. Can you knock out the HuK and leave it able to be boarded later?”

“It will be difficult…”

“Concentrate on knocking it out. If there’s anything left, that will be a bonus. Hopefully, they’ll surrender when they realize that it’s hopeless.” But Iceni saw the looks in both Togo’s and Marphissa’s eyes and knew they were thinking the same thing that she was, that the snakes hadn’t shown any willingness yet to surrender.

“Once the crews of these other ships realize what was done to most of the crew on the HuK,” Marphissa cautioned, “there will be little chance of the snakes’ being allowed to surrender even if they attempt it.”

“I understand. Can you keep me linked in while you carry out this operation?” The mobile forces flotilla was still in orbit, close enough that the time lag between Marphissa and Iceni was too small to be a problem.

“Yes,” Marphissa replied immediately though her eyes had grown distant as she focused on other matters.

Iceni watched, silent, as Marphissa entered commands, waited, checked, called orders to her line workers on the bridge of the cruiser, paused, then began calling the other warships with the exception of HuK-6336. “At time two zero, you are to begin bringing shields to full strength and powering up all hell lances. The target will be HuK-6336 if it resists following orders.”

Another pause, then Iceni heard a question coming in. “Sub-CEO, can you tell us why HuK-6336 is being targeted?”

“The officers and crew we have dealt with on HuK-6336 are probably actually snakes. President Iceni and I believe that the snakes assigned to that HuK killed the actual officers and most of the crew. Those crew members remaining are the ones who were willing to assist the snakes in their slaughter of their companions. Are there further questions?”

Togo nodded approvingly. “A clear and strongly motivating response,” he commented to Iceni.

“She will make a good commander of my mobile forces,” Iceni agreed. But something was still bothering her, something besides the snakes on HuK-6336. Why had Akiri been the assassin’s first target? Akiri’s skills as an executive had seemed marginal at best, yet Kolani had kept Akiri in command despite her reputation for relieving anyone who displeased her, and now an assassin had made him a primary target. Unfortunately, it was too late to stick Akiri in an interrogation cell to see what might be learned from him. “I want Akiri’s room and belongings thoroughly searched for anything out of the ordinary,” she told Togo.

“May I ask if there is a particular focus for the search, Madam President?”

“There are pieces in Akiri’s puzzle that do not fit. I want to know why. Find anything that doesn’t fit what we know about him.”

A few minutes remained until twenty after the hour; then, as the other warships began preparing for battle, Iceni waited to see what would happen as she watched the activity around Marphissa. “Do you think the snakes on the HuK will immediately try to prepare for combat when they realize what is happening?” Iceni asked Togo.

“I do not think so. Actual mobile forces executives probably would do that, but if these are ISS, trained to ask directions before they act?” Togo’s tiny smile flickered briefly to life. “They will call Sub-CEO Marphissa and ask what they are supposed to do.”

Moments later, Togo’s prediction was confirmed. “Sub-CEO, this is HuK-6336. Are we supposed to be making combat preparations?”

“No,” Marphissa replied.

A pause. “The other mobile forces are preparing for combat.”

“Yes. But you are to refrain from strengthening your shields and you are not to power up weapons. Do you understand, HuK-6336?”

“No.”

Whether that was a reply to Marphissa’s question or a denial of the orders was unclear. “HuK-6336 is powering weapons,” a line worker on Marphissa’s cruiser warned.

“Are you certain?” Marphissa asked.

“One hundred percent certainty, Sub-CEO. Shields are beginning to come up in strength as well.”

“HuK-6336, cease strengthening shields and powering up weapons immediately. Power down shields and weapons. This is your final warning.” Marphissa paused for only a moment, then looked over to the line worker.

“No change, Sub-CEO. HuK-6336 is continuing to prepare for combat.”

Iceni saw Marphissa’s face harden, then she reached one finger to tap a preset command.

Far above Iceni, in high orbit about the planet, particle beams shot out from three heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and five Hunter-Killers, their fire concentrated on nearby HuK-6336.

The single volley was all that was required. HuK-6336 was close and at a dead stop relative to the other warships, so it had been impossible to miss. Hunter-Killers had very little armor, HuK-6336’s shields hadn’t even been at half strength, and on a unit of such small size almost every square meter contained critical equipment. The undersized warship was so badly torn up by that single volley that Iceni, watching the damage reports flashing onto Marphissa’s display, wondered why the HuK hadn’t broken into several pieces.

Marphissa sat gazing angrily at the wreck for a moment, then jerked into sudden action. “All units! Accelerate at best available velocity away from HuK-6336! Rear shields at maximum! Do it now!”

Togo gave Iceni a questioning glance. Iceni hesitated, then the reason for Marphissa’s order hit her. “The power core. She thinks HuK-6336 will suffer a power-core overload.”

“But how can there be any survivors to order such an action?”

“There don’t have to be. Not if the snakes loaded dead-man instructions into the core control systems. And that’s exactly the sort of action we’ve seen them employing.”

An instant later, HuK-6336 vanished as its power core exploded.

Iceni saw the cruiser that Marphissa was riding rock under the impact of the shock wave. “Only minor damage because the HuK’s power core was relatively weak, our shields were at full strength, and we were accelerating away like bats out of hell,” Marphissa reported to Iceni a short time later.

“That was a good call,” Iceni replied. “You handled that entire situation very well, Sub-CEO. I am impressed by your ability.”

It was about the strongest praise a CEO could provide, and Marphissa flushed with pleasure.

Before Iceni could say anything else, Togo cleared his throat apologetically. “General Drakon is calling, Madam President. He wishes to know why mobile forces in orbit about this planet are firing upon one another.”

“I’ll talk to him. Sub-CEO Marphissa, we’ll speak again in the morning.”

But Iceni stopped as she began to turn away, looking at Marphissa’s display until the connection broke. On the display was portrayed a rapidly spreading cloud of dust that had once been a Hunter-Killer warship and perhaps twenty human beings. She could muster no sympathy for the humans, who had slain so many of their comrades, but she regretted losing that small warship.

Drakon had appeared to be shocked by the news of the assassination attempts and Akiri’s death, as well as satisfied with her explanations last night, but the next morning he sought to speak with her privately, not depending on comm circuits but instead showing up outside her office complex without any bodyguards, without even either Colonel Morgan or Colonel Malin who usually accompanied him. Disturbed by that unusual behavior, Iceni ensured that her office defenses were all active and working properly before she instructed her bodyguards to allow Drakon access. “What is this about?” she asked as he entered.

Drakon stood looking at her, scowled, looked away, then finally spoke in a low, rough voice. “Thank you for not accusing me of involvement in last night’s activities.”

“I think more highly of you than that, General,” Iceni said. “If you had planned those attacks, more of my people would have died.”

He bared his teeth in a pained smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I came over here, alone, for two reasons. The first to demonstrate my willingness to put myself on the line as a sign that I should have nothing to fear from you. Because I had nothing to do with those hits. Do you want me to say that again in another part of your office complex?”

She shook her head. “No, General Drakon. You need not submit yourself to interrogation to convince me. You wouldn’t have made the offer unless you knew you could pass such a test. What is the second reason for your visit?”

He swallowed, chewed his lip, then spoke abruptly. “I want to apologize to you.”

“You… what?”

“Apologize.” He seemed to be having trouble getting the word out.

Small wonder. Iceni was having trouble believing that she had heard right. Apologies among CEOs were rare enough that Iceni couldn’t remember ever having received one. Or even heard of one. Was “rare” even the right term for something that had never happened to her knowledge? “You… have you done something to me?”

“Not on purpose.” Drakon took a deep breath and finally looked directly at her again. “I neglected to tell you something that might have helped you figure out that HuK was a problem. Back when we took out Colonel Dun, she managed to get off a message to that snake-controlled cruiser before it bolted through the hypernet gate. We haven’t been able to find any clues to what the message was. Just some update, I figured. Maybe word to her snake bosses that Dun had been nailed and they should let her family go, or something like that. I was advised to tell you, but I didn’t think it was important.”

Iceni gave him a quizzical look. “But now you think you know what it was about?”

“I think it was word to that cruiser that Dun had been found out, that she was being taken down, and they needed someone else to take over the hidden-among-the-ranks-of-this-star-system’s-defenders job.”

“Oh.” That did make sense. “The snakes on the cruiser then ordered the ones on the HuK to wipe out the officers and disloyal crew members, so they could pretend to escape from the other units controlled by the snakes, move here, and be part of our plans and deliberations? You’re right. It could well have happened that way.”

“And you might have thought of that,” Drakon continued heavily, “if I’d told you about the message. So… I am… sorry.”

“For… ?”

“I should have kept you fully informed, not decided what you needed to know. I don’t want someone else deciding what I need to know, and I should give you the same courtesy.” Drakon shook his head, looking angry, but the emotion clearly wasn’t aimed at her. “I’ll try not to slip up that way again.”

Iceni stared at him. Drakon really had just apologized to her. And done so unambiguously, not some halfhearted too bad if I made you screw up. What was she supposed to say? It had been so long since anyone had said “I’m sorry” except subordinates who were groveling before her, and the accepted responses to that ranged from “you’re fired” to “you’re going to be shot” to “if it happens again, you’ll be fired or shot.” None of those phrases seemed appropriate now, though. “I… understand.”

“You do?” Drakon seemed as uncertain as she did of the proper protocol.

“Yes. It… was… a… reasonable… error. I… Damn. Why don’t we have words for this?”

“We haven’t needed them,” Drakon said, sounding bitter and amused at the same time.

“Perhaps we will need them in the future. I will say this, I am not at all certain that I would have made the connection between Dun’s message and what HuK-6336 did. I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t have. But I do wish to know anything like that that comes up from now on.”

“You will.”

It sounded like a promise. If so, there would be no better time to test it. “Is there anything else?”

Drakon hesitated, and she could easily imagine the thoughts running through his mind. “I’ve had all the ground forces commanders screened to see if any others were like Colonel Dun. As far as I can tell, none of them are.”

“That’s good to hear.” She waited.

“Um… Colonel Rogero. You already know about him.”

“Yes.”

“And I know of four surviving snakes and their families who are still on this planet.”

Iceni stared at him. “Explain, please.”

He did, and when Drakon had finished Iceni spent a moment rubbing her chin to give her time to think. Why hadn’t Togo spotted that information before Drakon had told her? “These snakes are under constant observation?”

“Constant and complete.”

“What if I insisted that they be shot?”

Drakon glared at her. “I promised them they wouldn’t be killed.”

“I see.” She let alternatives tumble through her mind before looking back at him. “All right, General. They’re your responsibility. If they do anything, if they contact anyone, I expect to be informed.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Are there any more surprises for me, General?” Iceni asked.

Another pause as Drakon frowned in thought. Would he tell her about Malin’s apparent assassination attempt against Morgan? Her source had already given her all the details of that, but would Drakon say anything at all?

“Yeah, one more thing. I had a serious incident on my staff. But it’s been resolved.”

That was something. More than she had expected. “Good. I will also try to keep you informed in the future. If the hits had been only against your workers last night, I’m certain that your suspicion would have turned my way.”

He gave her that crooked smile of his. “If you’d planned hits against me, I probably wouldn’t have survived to register any complaints.”

“How nice of you to say so. But now we will have no secrets from each other.”

“Of course not.” Drakon mimicked her own sarcasm in a shared joke about how untrustworthy CEOs actually were. Neither she nor he would really believe the other wasn’t withholding some secrets.

Drakon gave a gruff farewell and left, leaving Iceni looking at her door after he had closed it. An apology and a promise, both of which appeared to be at least partly sincere. Damn you, General, you’re providing far too powerful a good example for me.

Is it just an act?

Drakon walked steadily back toward his headquarters, hardly noticing the citizens who were hastily clearing a path for him, now with every sign of enthusiasm rather than fear. He wished he could believe that the emotions the citizens showed him were genuine, but over the centuries people at every level of Syndicate society had gotten very good at hiding their true feelings, instead projecting whatever they thought they were expected to show.

Just like CEOs. He wished he could believe that Iceni was sincere.

Why did I tell her about Malin and Morgan? I didn’t tell her much, but I still revealed that my staff had a serious problem with dissension, and that’s exactly the sort of thing CEOs always want to know so they can try to exploit that dissension. Why did I tell Iceni that there was a possible crack in my defenses that she could exploit?

Of course, she might think that was a trap, designed to see if she would make a move in that direction.

I did intend to say I was sorry for not doing my job well enough. I made a mistake. The one thing I hated most in my bosses over the years has been their failure to admit when they screwed up. That was one of the pillars of the Syndicate Worlds, I guess. Never admit a mistake. I can’t remember the government ever doing that. Hell, even when Black Jack was knocking on their door with a fleet the previous Syndicate supreme council would rather have died than admit they had made any errors. And so they did die. But I doubt the new bunch at Prime is any better.

They’re CEOs, aren’t they?

But, then, so is Iceni. And so am I.

Can you teach old dogs new tricks? But I never learned the old tricks. That’s how I got here, exiled for not being self-focused enough, for not being willing to write off the lives of subordinates as the cost of my own promotions. And Iceni was exiled, too, for reporting on illegal activity instead of just trying to grab a piece of it for herself. Neither one of us fit properly into the Syndicate system.

Malin is right when he says the failure to admit mistakes means you can’t learn from them. I have plenty of experience to prove that.

Maybe it’s a good thing I told Iceni a bit about the mess between Malin and Morgan. Even though I wasn’t intending to set a trap, not consciously anyway, that’s what it is. If Iceni tries to contact either Malin or Morgan without my knowledge, I’m certain that they’ll tell me.

And then I’ll know something more about Iceni, and I’ll have to decide what to do next.