Starbound (21 page)

“We control the city itself and a ring about twenty kilometers deep around the city. Regency forces hold the next fifty kilometers or so, and then there are pockets all around the countryside where either one side or the other has the advantage,” interjected Prince Benn to clarify.

“As you said, fluid,” I said. “So if we make it into the city, what then?”

“First and foremost, we get you off Carinthia. Your presence here heightens tensions immensely. If we can't get you off our world then we will try to at least get you to Aspern airbase, where there is a small cadre of Union forces. Get you out of the way. Then, we negotiate, for the good of the royal family and Carinthia,” said Benn.

“And the Union?”

“As I said, it's our lowest priority.”

I nodded. What more could I say? I couldn't blame him for putting his world and his people first. It's what I would do in his situation.

“Thank you for the briefing,” I said, then stood to leave. Prince Benn watched me leave, then turned back to his advisors as I shut the door behind me. I went straight back to my flight couch, feeling like a helpless diplomat while others around me made the big boy decisions. I strapped myself in with a sigh, then leaned back in my couch and stared straight ahead at the bulkhead, wishing I could be off this world and back doing something that mattered.

I saw Prince Benn's “distraction” from the air about an hour later. A large tanker loaded with fuel had gone down at an airfield about thirty kilometers outside New Vee, in the zone controlled by the Regency forces. The crater it left and the smoke from the crash were visible kilometers into the air. As we looked out the windows black smoke billowed from the massive wound in the ground. I hoped silently that the plane had been unpiloted when it went down.

We all strapped in securely as our convoy made a high-speed approach to the Loyalist-controlled Aspern airfield. We barely slowed as we hit the ground rolling, the VTOL aspects of our plane abandoned in favor of speed. We rolled directly and at an uncomfortable speed into a large military hangar protected by tanks, coil cannons, and missile batteries, then disembarked quickly. The prince and his entourage got into an armored military vehicle and we—Dobrina, Colonel Babayan, and I—followed in the second group. I filled in Dobrina and Babayan on the situation report as it had been conveyed to me by the prince. Both had strong opinions as we convoyed along the city streets of New Vee, presumably to the grand duke's palace.

“Prince Benn can't abandon the Union. It's our only hope for the future,” Dobrina insisted as we were driven to the palace.

“I agree,” replied Babayan. “But I'm Carinthian first. I want to see our world protected from harm, and a civil war would cause plenty of harm.”

“You can't protect Carinthia by isolating us from Quantar and Earth. We could easily fall under the influence of the old empire again, and I'll be goddamned if I'll allow that!” Dobrina said, her voice rising.

“I understand, but—”

“Look, you both swore an oath to the Union,” I cut in, “and right now your commissions are with the Union Navy, of which I am the highest ranking official on this mission. We will act in the Union's
best interests. If you have a problem with that, you can resign your commission to me now, or agree to follow my orders on this.”

“I don't want to resign,” said Babayan after a moment's hesitation.

“Good,” I said. “Then we're all in this together, and we have to stay together. Agreed?”

They both nodded and replied “agreed” at the same time.

“Thank you. Now the bigger question is, what happens next? Prince Benn wants me off Carinthia for political reasons, and I can't say I don't feel the same way after the welcome I received here. How are our communications with the Union Navy, Lena?” I asked.

“Not good,” she said. “The last time I was in the staff office here was two days ago, and communication was intermittent and not considered secure. High Stations One and Two are controlled by forces loyal to Arin's pseudo-Regency, and they routinely block longwave and diplomatic packets to High Station Three, which is controlled by Loyalist forces. Any hope of getting help in or a signal out to the longwave ansibles is moot at this point. The Regency controls the military communication lines. Commercial lines are still open but definitely not secure.”

“What about commercial traffic at the spaceport?” I asked.

“Still coming and going, but heavily monitored and decreasing by the day as conditions deteriorate at New Vee. If we're going to get out that way it's going to have to be soon, I think,” she said.

“All right. When we get to the palace I want you to work on securing us transportation off of Carinthia. Anything will do as long as it's not military. Commercial, maintenance, even a garbage run will do fine if it gets us to High Station Three at least, and preferably without us having to stop at One or Two. Clear?” I said.

“Yes, sir,” replied Babayan.

“Commander Kierkopf and I will work the diplomatic side,” I said. “Dobrina, I'll need you to work your military contacts among the Loyalists. Find out what they have, what they need, and how the
Union Navy might be able to help them if hostilities start. Also, take an inventory and find out what we have available in terms of Union forces on the ground here.”

“They're liable to be very light,” she said. Then they both looked to me.

“I will work with Prince Benn as much as I can to secure a ride off of Carinthia, while offering as much Union assistance as possible. He may not want it. Politically I may be poison to their cause. It seems he'll be glad to get rid of me. Once we get to the palace, start working immediately. Time is of the essence here,” I finished. I got two “Yes, sir”s in response and then we were done. I sat back in the vehicle and waited as the armored car's engines droned on to the grand duke's
palace.

W
e arrived in a lar
ge transport area of
the New Hofburg pal
ace, a great marble-
ceilinged garage, no
w filled with milita
ry vehicles unloadin
g ordinance juxtapos
ed with the odd comm
ercial ground truck
unloading food and k
itchen stores. We we
re quickly escorted
into a wing of the p
alace reserved for m
ilitary operations w
hile Prince Benn wen
t along to an admini
strative area.

I was unprepared for the scale of the palace. It was a magnificent edifice of marble, polished bronze, and ornate gold and silver fixtures and appointments. It had a thick baroque atmosphere that would have smothered a similar building, if there were any, on Quantar. The palace was so large that there were actually moving sidewalks, large glass-walled lifters, and wide escalators to move from one wing or level to the next. We took an underground tram train that went on for several minutes before we got off and headed up to our wing. The Loyalists probably saw the palace as the key piece of real estate in the war of wills between Benn and Arin, but what I saw around me seemed like an unnecessary extravagance that undoubtedly robbed
them of men and materiel that could probably be better used elsewhere, especially if this developed into a shooting war.

Colonel Babayan clearly knew her way around the palace and made off on her assigned duties as soon as we exited the tram. Dobrina made her way more hesitantly toward the Carinthian High Command's offices after asking for directions. I was met by a military attaché and an armed guard of two. The attaché explained in broken Standard that I was scheduled for “appointments” in another part of the palace. I took up his offered assistance and we moved off.

It seemed as though we walked forever, our bootheels pounding on the hard marble, before turning down a wide hallway and passing through an ornately decorated arch, topped by an ornamental keystone decorated with an “F” in the old Gothic script. I was then ushered into what appeared to be a large private apartment by the attaché, the guards taking up station at the door. I was about to protest that I didn't need rest when the attaché abruptly turned and left, shutting the door and leaving me alone in the elaborately decorated room. I sighed. I hated playing the part of a royal. Being a navy commander was much more my type of work.

I went to the windows and looked out on the palace gardens below. They were enormous and green, covered by a coat of frost in the winter shade and filled with the bare stems of flowers pruned low for their protection. I thought for a moment of my mother's gardens at the North Palace near KendalFalk, where I had grown up what seemed like forever ago, and got just a tinge of homesickness. My reverie was broken by two massive doors opening into the next room, revealing a still larger apartment inside.

“The princess will see you now,” said a matronly lady, gesturing with her arms wide to escort me in. I followed her lead and made my way in, walking a good distance through a ridiculously oversized room to see a petite figure standing at the far window, staring out at
the same gardens I had just been looking at. As I approached she turned and gave me a troubled smile.

“Thank you, Gretchen. That will be all for now,” she said in a voice that showed no hint of the typical Carinthian accent. I chalked that up to her years of training in the Union Naval Academy, training that would now likely be unused. The attendant bowed slightly and walked away from us, but not entirely, stopping at a reception desk at the end of the enormous room near the doors where I had entered. I assumed we would have privacy nonetheless, by mere distance if nothing else.

I turned to the young woman. She was indeed petite, wearing a formal dress in Carinthian green with trimmings of white lace. She had a pleasantly oval face with tiny features, large dark eyes that seemed a bit on the weary side, and long, straight brunette hair. She forced a smile at me and then spoke.

“I'm sorry we don't have a more formal reception for you, Sire Cochrane,” she said, then held out her hand to me. “I'm Karina Feilberg, the grand duke's daughter.”

I was uncertain whether to kiss her hand or shake it. Since I was there as a visiting royal and not a suitor, I decided to just grip it gently with both hands and smile.

“I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Princess Karina,” I said. She nodded.

“I wish we were meeting under different circumstances,” she said, then motioned me to a pair of sitting chairs that faced each other in front of a large lit fireplace that put out a glowing warmth.

“I understand,” I replied as we both sat down. “There was a time when I expected we might even meet in the Union Navy.”

She smiled the weary smile again.

“I'm afraid those days will never be,” she said, then looked away from me, toward the open window. I feared I had insulted her, but
before I could apologize she was up again and pacing around the room.

“I understand you've met with my brother, Benn?” she asked.

“I have,” I said, then stopped. She noticed.

“And?” she asked, stopping her pacing for a moment.

“And I think he considers me a huge political liability,” I offered. The pacing resumed.

“Benn, he is a tad too much the son of a sovereign,” she said, smiling bemusedly for the first time. I liked the way it played across her face. “And not nearly pragmatic enough,” she finished.

I sat forward in my chair. “Is the situation here as bad as he says?”

“Worse,” she acknowledged, her pacing taking her to the window again. She looked out as I waited for her to say more, then turned back to me. “Essentially, we are prisoners here in the city, in New Vienna. The royal family, I mean. Arin controls almost everything coming in and going out of the city except the spaceport, and we have only a narrow tunnel of airspace through which we can make our supply runs. High Station Three is bringing us more and more of our supplies through that corridor. We are getting almost nothing from our own world now. We are relying on your people, the Union, I mean, and their goodwill to help us.” She trailed off for a moment at this, then turned back to face me directly.

“If you do anything when you get off Carinthia, you must get us as much food and medical supplies through the port as you can, and soon. I'm sure they'll cut off that avenue any day now. If your Union can do anything for us, that is what we need. Weapons would likely be interdicted, but commercial ships or light military vehicles might still get through,” she said.

I was surprised by her tone. She sounded more like an intelligence officer giving a situation report than a royal daughter of the grand duke. I chalked this up to her military training and reminded myself not to forget that point again.

“Those will be my first recommendations to the Union Navy command when I get back,” I promised her. She came back to the sitting area with me, still standing with a chair between us.

“Thank you,” she said.

“And what of the prince regent? Do you think he will attack soon?” I asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “There was a time when I never would have believed him capable of betraying his father, but that time is long past. He is a dangerous man, Duke Peter.”

“Please,” I said, “Just Peter.” Frankly I was much more used to being called commander. She smiled again for a moment.

“Peter, then,” she said, and nodded. “Whatever you do, Peter, you must keep the Union out of this war. Arin is desperate to take full power and set my father aside, and to end the treaty relationship with the Union. He'll look for any excuse, as your kidnapping can attest.”

I nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words, then pressed on to other matters. “What would he replace the Union with?” I asked.

“That, I don't know,” she admitted. “Things started changing here a few years ago, once Arin started assuming regency powers that he was never granted. My father is an old man, and when my mother died, well, honestly, he began slipping. We all became aware of the need for a regent, and eventually my father agreed. But it was never formalized, and soon Arin began his usurpation of powers.” This was yet another confirmation of the seriousness of the situation on Carinthia. I decided to press on.

“How is your father's physical health?” I asked. At this she frowned.

“He isn't well. He seems to slip more each day, each week. But he is still my father, and I will do anything to protect him.”

“I understand. You were telling me about Arin?” I needed to know more about this new adversary.

“Yes. Once he assumed Regency powers things began changing,
as I said. There were soldiers in the palace guard we did not recognize, and more in the city. Many longtime military leaders were replaced, and some were ‘reassigned,' and they just disappeared. It was a full year before Benn and I could acknowledge what was going on. We consolidated support around my father, but with limited success. Since then Arin has continued tightening the noose, slowly, month by month,” she said.

I still needed more information, but I also needed to reassure her in some way, I could tell that much. “Lady Karina, it is my suspicion, and I cannot prove this, that your brother may be working with elements of the old empire, possibly through an Earth Historian named Tralfane. In my opinion, this man Tralfane is the one responsible for the hijacking and destruction of your Lightship
Impu
lse
. And I think it is highly likely he is also functioning as an agent for the empire.”

Her eyes widened at this. “Do we really have so many enemies?” she said, her voice a hushed whisper. I stood.

“Respectfully, lady, I think you do,” I said. She nodded silently, her eyes looking away from me, as if making a decision.

“Benn has called a war council for this afternoon. I think you should be there. But in the meantime, there is someone you should meet,” she said.

I looked at her, surprised.

“It's time for you to meet the grand duke.”

The walk to the grand duke's private apartment was quite a ways, in another wing of the palace entirely. I now came to realize that the Lady Karina had met me in a working apartment, far away from where the family resided.

There were palace guards ever-present with the lady, and I picked up my original two as well. Security was high and we had to wade
through several checkpoints until we were allowed into the family wing. Karina waited patiently while I cleared security at each stop. While I waited at one such point I caught a glimpse through a window of a parade ground adjacent to the palace. It was full of soldiers and their equipment: armor, rotor gunships, VTOL fighters and the like. If someone tried to attack the palace, they would no doubt be in for a ferocious fight.

Once we were finally inside the grand duke's apartment Karina waved off our guard companions and we walked privately down a long hallway, saying nothing. We came to a pair of massive doors—were there any other kind here?—and then up to an attendant in a nurse's uniform. She was seated at a desk and quickly rose and bowed to the lady and me, then began a report to the princess.

“He's had his tea, my lady, but I'm not sure how well he is this morning. He didn't sleep good last night. He had bad dreams again,” she said.

“Thank you, Berta. We would like to see him now,” said the princess. Berta did as she was instructed and opened the door to the inner chamber.

Grand Duke Henrik Feilberg of Carinthia was sitting in a chair and gently snoring in the dark room, one arm draped over the arm of his chair. He was still in his bed robe, his hair white and disheveled, far different from the vibrant, dark-haired monarch portrayed in all of his official portraits. Karina approached him and gently touched him on the shoulder.