Freehold (16 page)

Feeg heard Roop's words only dimly. He stood in the darkness toward the rear of the chamber, his mind and thoughts lost in the river. He'd been that way since entering moments before. The river was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His hand touched his lips over and over in the traditional gesture of devotion and respect. On True Home, where his race had evolved, the saliva thus deposited on the hand would almost instantly evaporate in the searing heat, symbolizing the return of precious moisture to the air, from which it must eventually fall as rain. Many holy chants had been devoted to the rain cycle. But here before him was a sight that dazzled his mind and overloaded his senses. The incredible power and beauty of the river was almost too much to bear. To stand and watch the flow of the holy fluid was to know God. Surely the Council would invest this place with the status of a great temple, and his brethren would travel from many light-years away to worship here.

Roop cleared his throat. “Quarter Commander Feeg?” He was anxious now, as all of his suppressed fears bubbled to the surface; he feared that Feeg was somehow backing out of their agreement, leaving him to face the consequences alone.

With a major effort, Feeg tore his eyes away from the river and forced himself to concentrate on the present. He strode down the aisle, stepped over the dead Master at Arms as if he weren't there, and climbed the steps to the dais. Roop moved nervously to one side and stood well away from the alien. Feeg took a moment to gauge his audience. He had spent many hours watching holos of humans, studying them, learning the nuances of their facial expressions, body language, and attire. Now that effort paid off, as he scanned the faces before him. What he saw was a sea of fear, confusion, anger, and frustration. Good, let it be so. “There will be rules,” Feeg began. “The first is that he who moves without permission, dies.” As he spoke, he saw a number of his troopers jerk their eyes away from the river to watch the humans. They, too, had been mesmerized by the holy flow. Again forcing his mind to the matter at hand, Feeg continued. “The second rule is that he who speaks without permission, dies. The third is that all personal weapons will now be passed to the aisle for collection.” There was a rustle of activity as a small arsenal of weapons was passed to the aisle and collected by a trooper. Feeg didn't doubt there were some hold-out weapons, but to search for them now might weaken his psychological grip on the humans.

As the weapons were taken away, he said, “There will be more rules as they become necessary. Now I want to address myself to those of you not actually present, but attending by electronic means.” Here and there his eyes detected the slight shimmer and transparency of the senators attending via closed circuit holo. He knew that others had already dropped out and were no doubt trying to organize some sort of response. It was important that he convince those still hooked up that any sort of resistance was hopeless. “The continued well-being of your fellow humans depends on you. I am about to issue certain instructions. These must be followed to the letter. Failure to do so will result in immediate death.” Suddenly he pointed to an elderly woman with carefully styled white hair who was seated in the second row. There was the crack of a single shot and her head exploded, spraying blood and brains over the dozen people sitting around her. It happened so fast that it was over before they could even flinch. “That,” Feeg said calmly, “is a simple demonstration of how serious I am.”

Roop averted his eyes from the woman's body. By chance, she'd been one of his strongest supporters. But in turning away, he found himself impaled by Kasten's hard, brown eyes. The hatred there spoke for itself. The President had come around rather quickly, and Olivia was fighting to keep him in his seat.

“Now,” Feeg continued, “learn this about my race: Unlike you, we are
not
needlessly violent. The death you just witnessed was necessary. It taught you to take me seriously, and that will save lives. I have it in my power to eradicate your kind from this planet. Instead, I will allow those of you who wish to leave to do so, taking whatever you can carry on your persons. A limited number of volunteers may stay under Il Ronnian rule, to be trained for future administrative positions on those human worlds that we may eventually choose to include in our empire. Those will report to Senator Roop.”

A burly Senator, about, halfway back, spit in the aisle to show what he thought of living under Il Ronnian role and reporting to Roop. His head exploded under the impact of Il Ronnian slugs, his torso toppling forward and sliding down between the seats. “We are quite aware that expectoration is a form of self-expression among members of your race, and therefore a form of speech,” Feeg said calmly. He didn't, add that spitting was considered a serious insult among Il Ronnians, so serious, that his trooper had probably fired without thinking. He would be punished later. “Now, listen carefully,” Feeg said, “because I intend to say this only once...”

As Feeg proceeded to lay out his plan for the human evacuation of Freehold, Olivia was amazed by his audacity. His plan called for the humans to not only do all the work, but to bear the expenses involved as well. Those Senators not being held hostage in chambers would be responsible for implementing the plan. They would supervise a phased evacuation. The brigade and Free Scouts would be taken off first, followed by members of government and the civil service. That way, Olivia noted grimly, all of the planet's leadership would be removed as quickly as possible, lessening, any chance of resistance and making Feeg's task that much easier. Everyone not in the first two groups would be in the third. And, in spite of Feeg's earlier statements, it became clear that a number of key scientists and technicians would be forced to stay behind. Supposedly, they would be released once they had trained their Il Ronnian counterparts in thermium extraction and use.

Meanwhile, shuttles would carry everyone else up to the brigade's three transports, and any other ships that happened to be around, for transport to the destination of their choice. Not that anyone would be willing to take them, she thought sourly. But since the available ships couldn't possibly begin to move the planetary population of about four hundred thousand, Feeg recommended hiring some liners or other large ships for that purpose, and gave his permission to use whatever refined thermium was on hand to pay for it. Olivia admired his cheek, since it was now apparent that this was not a full-scale invasion, and that Feeg commanded only enough troops to hold the Senate. Therefore, he could hardly stop them from using the refined thermium in whatever way they chose. But by giving his permission to do so, he maintained the illusion of control. It was, she thought, a clever combination of actual threat, bluff, and bravado. It was well planned and well thought out. She sighed. But in spite of that, it wouldn't work. She didn't know what the free Senators, plus Krowsnowski and Stell, would do—but she knew they would never consider actually evacuating the planet. Feeg had obviously studied humans carefully, and his plan depended on the conclusions of that study; but he'd made some serious mistakes. And being her father's daughter, Olivia had no trouble figuring out where the Il Ronnians had gone wrong.

First, the Il Ronn had never fully understood the rift between the empire and the frontier worlds. In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, the aliens persisted in seeing the humans as they viewed themselves, as a single cohesive unit. So, when the empire introduced military cutbacks that allowed the pirates to raid the frontier worlds, the Il Ronnians interpreted that as a weakness of will and purpose on the part of humanity in general. Plus, during the numerous violent clashes between the Il Ronn and the pirates, they had probably noticed how deeply the humans valued the lives of individuals, even when it was not practical to do so, and had concluded that they wouldn't knowingly allow others to be murdered if it could be prevented. A serious miscalculation indeed, she thought wryly. In addition, the Il Ronn were ruled by a Council that reached decisions by consensus. Feeg no doubt viewed the Senate as roughly analogous to that Council, and assumed that without it the humans would be unable to make effective decisions. She almost smiled. The one thing we're really good at is making decisions for each other, she thought.

So the Council of One Thousand had undertaken a risky operation by human standards, but one which made sense according to their own observations, experience, and bias. If it succeeded, they would acquire a choice planet, and do so in a way unlikely to excite the wrath of the human empire. After all, there was no fleet, no invasion; the Emperor would look at the small number of casualties and ask himself, why get into a costly war with the Il Ronn over some frontier planet? Intersystems would object, but not even they had sufficient power to move the Emperor to war over a single planet. No ... and even if the plan failed, or the human empire did react, the Council of One Thousand could always shift the blame to Feeg, depicting him as overzealous and misguided. Apologies all around and end of incident. She knew from her visits to court that such things had happened before.

And she knew the plan
would
fail. Those outside wouldn't and couldn't allow it to succeed. They would let every single person in the chamber die rather than lose the planet. And she knew that, in their place, she would do the same. Suddenly she felt very sad. It seemed so unfair. There had been so much to live for. But if it must be, then she would not allow herself to sink into self-pity. She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to listen.

Feeg had paused for a moment, allowing them to absorb what he'd said, and now he continued. “Those of you outside these chambers have six days to implement my plan or we will kill everyone within these walls. Some of my troopers have remained outside to keep you under surveillance. In addition, Senator Roop has recruited human spies among you. I will know if you make plans against me.” The first claim was true and the second wasn't, but Feeg knew it would have psychological value. He ventured an imitation of a smile. However, the sight did little to relax his audience. “So I suggest you waste no time trying to free those held here. Your engineers have done an excellent job of construction, and nothing less than a full-scale attack by your Imperial Fleet could breach these walls. That is all. You have your orders, execute them.”

One by one, the holos of the Senators not actually there snapped out of existence, until only one remained. A designated observer no doubt. The rest would go to work, trying to deal with this new and unexpected crisis. Those within the chamber were still under Feeg's order of silence, so no one spoke. Each was trapped alone with his or her thoughts and fears. And in front of them the huge river pulsed with strength and energy, light shimmering and dancing gaily through its currents, as though it was laughing at their weakness.

Their departure from Endo had gone without a hitch. Stell and Como were aboard the
Nest,
with Falco and his wing, and Samantha had taken the small scout in toward the empire on a recon mission. Now that the mercenaries were back in possession of their interceptors, the local authorities showed little desire to debate the matter, which was probably wise, since Falco and his crew could have taken out the local air force in a matter of minutes. However, Falco
had
sent a message to Goteb, promising the payment they owed—minus a fee for time spent in captivity and their expenses. The Zord had not replied.

As the
Nest
entered normal space, she began broadcasting the recognition code Stell had established prior to lifting from Freehold. Moments later they had sealed-beam confirmation from the
Shona,
and an urgent request for Stell to come aboard. An hour later, Stell was sitting in the optional rear seat of Falco's interceptor, watching in admiration as the pilot slipped expertly into
Shona
's launch bay, and touched down. They waited while the robolock settled over the cockpit. When the air pressure had equalized, Falco popped the canopy and climbed up a short ladder. Stell was right behind him. When they emerged in the corridor above, they were greeted by a grim Captain Nashita.

“Welcome back, General. I wish I could tell you everything is fine, but it isn't. The folks dirtside will sure be glad to see you.”

Stell smiled. “Hi, Mike. They'll be even happier when they hear we have air cover. Jack Falco, meet Captain Mike Nashita.”

By now they were three abreast and striding down the corridor. “Not
Commander
Jack Falco?” Nashita asked.

“The same,” Stell answered with a grin.

“Well, you certainly insist on the very best,” Nashita replied. “Welcome aboard, Commander. For what it's worth ... they were wrong.”

“Thanks, Captain,” Falco said, returning the other man's handshake, “but the brass are never wrong. Isn't that right, General?”

“No comment,” Stell answered with a laugh. Moments later they were seated in the
Shona
's wardroom. “Okay, Mike ... what's the problem?”

“Well, for starters we were jumped by the pirates,” Nashita answered, dimming the room lights. “And with them was a familiar face.” The holo tank swirled into life, and Stell watched the battle for Two Holes. His jaw tightened and his fingernails grew white when the camera zoomed in on Malik. He was standing on the bow of a tank, shouting orders as bullets and energy beams shrieked around him. Nashita described the battle and how it had ended.

“No sooner were the pirates gone ... than the Il Ronn showed up again ... and not to help us, either.” The scene changed, and Stell watched what had transpired in the Senate, from Roop's opening remarks, to Feeg's final ultimatum. One of the free Senators had taped the whole thing and beamed it up to the brigade ships, along with orders from Colonel Krowsnowski.

When it was over, the room was silent, and all eyes turned to Stell. He sat, lost in thought. Over and over he saw the Il Ronnian trooper hit Kasten, saw the politician fall, and Olivia's anxious face as she bent over helping him. Damn, damn, damn. If only he'd thought of that possibility. But the pirates had never even come close to the capital, and where the hell did the Il Ronnians come from anyway? Turning to Nashita he asked, “Have they found an Il Ronnian ship?”