The Commonwealth Saga 2-Book Bundle (144 page)

“Not all of them,” Nigel said. “Don’t be that arrogant.”

“We built this civilization,” Heather said. “You more than all of us, Nigel. We cannot stand back when there are hard choices to be made.”

“This is all academic anyway,” Nigel countered. “We’ve lost those planets. Our warship/building program cannot be significantly expanded for months no matter how much we need more ships.”

“Do we need more ships?” Heather asked mildly. “There’s the Seattle Project.”

“Genocide them?” Nigel was surprised to hear her propose that option; he’d always assumed she favored a less drastic solution. Not that he’d ever thought of one.

“I think this has proved it’s either them or us, surely?”

“They’re aggressive, yes, but genocide … Come on, that’s got to be the last resort. I don’t think we’re at that stage yet.”

“You’re applying human scruples to a nonhuman problem. Their next attack will be bigger and stronger. And we know there’s going to be a ‘next,’ don’t we?”

“Once the navy finds the exit point of that massive wormhole the Primes constructed, we’ll be able to block them,” Alan said.

Heather gave him a disappointed smile. “Eliminate Hell’s Gateway? Care to bet your life on that? Because that’s what you’re doing.”

“Fuck you,” Alan spat. “It’s my territory that’s in the front line.”

“Let’s just calm down here,” Nigel said. “Heather, he’s right, we have to give the navy a chance to do what we built it for. I’m not prepared to authorize the genocide of an entire species, however belligerent.”

“And after their next strike takes out half of phase two space?”

“Then I’ll press the button myself.”

“I’m glad to hear it. In the meantime, I will be taking the same kind of precautions you’ve been doing for the last few months.”

Nigel sighed; he should have known the other Dynasties would eventually find out what he was doing. “Yeah well, I’m just playing safe.”

“That’s a very expensive way of being safe,” Alan said. “How much are you spending on those ships? I mean, Christ, Nigel, the hole in Augusta’s budget was big enough for us to find.”

“Which is why I don’t understand your reluctance to genocide the Primes,” Heather said; she sounded genuinely curious.

“Morality. We all have it, Heather, to some degree or other.”

“And your morality includes flying off and leaving the rest of us in the shit, does it?”

“If those ships are ever used, it will be when we’re past the point of salvation. There won’t be any Commonwealth left to protect.”

“Well, I hope you’re not going to deny us equal access to your hyperdrive technology.”

Nigel couldn’t help the flicker of disapproval on his face. “Progressive wormhole generator.”

“Excuse me?”

“FTL starships use progressive wormhole generators.”

“Right,” Alan said, nonplussed. “Whatever. We need them, Nigel.” His hand waved down at the refugees. “Given this crock of shit, I’m putting my Dynasty’s escape route together. All of us are.”

“You can have generators for your ships,” Nigel said. “I’ll be happy to sell them to you.”

“Thank you,” Heather said. “In the meantime, we’d better present a united front for the War Cabinet and the Senate.” She nodded down at the President. “She has to be given a big injection of confidence. People will turn to her; they always do in times of crisis. If they can see for certain that she’s firmly in charge, it’ll help keep the panic down.”

“Sure.” Nigel shrugged.

“What about Wilson?” Alan asked.

“What about him?” Nigel said.

“Oh, come on! Twenty-three worlds invaded, and Wessex targeted as well. That asshole let it happen. He’s responsible.”

“He’s the best one for the job,” Nigel said. “You can’t replace him.”

“For now,” Heather said. “But another screwup like this, and we will eject him.”

He gave her a hard look. “And replace him with Rafael?”

“He’s pro-genocide. That gets my vote.”

“We don’t need games right now, Heather.”

“Who’s playing? We’re facing extinction, Nigel. If the solution involves shifting the navy to my control, then that is what will happen.”

Nigel couldn’t remember the two of them going raw like this before. The trouble with Heather was that she could only think in terms of everything that had gone before. She had an astonishing determination and political ability. You couldn’t build a Dynasty without those qualities. Nigel always considered her flaw to be a lack of originality. Even now, she saw the Prime situation purely in terms of its effect on her Dynasty. “If that’s the only solution you can see, then go for it,” he told her. It drew him a suspicious look. He ignored it. If she couldn’t see her way around this problem, he certainly wasn’t going to tell her.

Despite all she’d triumphed through on Elan, Mellanie still felt a great deal of trepidation as she stepped up to the dark wooden door of Paula Myo’s Parisian apartment block. It said a lot about the Hive woman that just the idea of confronting her again could do that. Mellanie knew that she was the special one now, that the SI inserts gave her huge powers, that she actually had the courage to stand in front of MorningLightMountain’s soldier motiles and take them down—well, the SI had through her, but that didn’t alter the fact that she hadn’t turned tail and run.
So why do I feel so nervous?

She checked the bulky centuries-old intercom box beside the door, and pressed the worn ceramic button for Paula Myo’s apartment. Somewhere inside a buzzer sounded. Her e-butler immediately told her Paula Myo was placing a call to her unisphere address. Mellanie resisted the instinct to look around for a camera. Even if the sensor was big enough to be visible, it was late evening, and the sunlight had almost faded, dropping the narrow street into deep shadow. Above her, the windows looking out from the high walls were all shuttered. The few intermittent streetlights above the uneven pavement did little to alleviate the gloom.

“Yes?” Paula Myo asked.

“I need to see you,” Mellanie said.

“I don’t need to see you.”

“But I did what you said. I talked to Dudley Bose.”

“And what has that got to do with me?”

Mellanie gave the door an aggravated stare. “You were right, I did find something interesting.”

“Which was?”

“The Starflyer.” There was such a long pause that Mellanie thought Myo had cut her off. She had to check her virtual vision to confirm the channel was still open.

The lock clicked loudly. Mellanie just had time to square her shoulders before the door opened. She’d toned down her clothes for this encounter, selecting some of the more sober items from her personal fashion line: a half-sleeve burgundy jacket and matching skirt longer than her usual, its hem nearly halfway to her knees. It was a compilation that should emphasize how serious and professional she was these days.

A single polyphoto circle was fixed to the top of the deep archway that led to the block’s central courtyard. Paula Myo was silhouetted in its yellow glow, dressed in her usual conservative-cut business suit. Mellanie hadn’t realized before, but she was taller than the Investigator.

“Come in,” Paula said.

Mellanie followed her to the middle of the ancient cobbled courtyard. She looked around at the whitewashed walls with their narrow windows. Over half of them had their shutters drawn back, revealing glimpses of rooms. Flickers of pale green light were coming from inside as holographic portals played out the evening’s unisphere news and entertainment. A sad reflection on the residents; this was the kind of block where single professionals would flock while they were taking a break between marriage contracts. Sanitized little apartments where they could rest in safety between the work and play that otherwise occupied their whole day.

“This will do,” Paula said. “We’re secure here if we don’t talk too loud.”

Mellanie wasn’t sure about that, but didn’t want to argue. “You know about it, don’t you?”

“Did Alessandra Baron send you in search of an exclusive? Is that why you’re here?”

“No.” Mellanie gave a short, edgy laugh. “I don’t work for her anymore. Check with the production company if you don’t believe me.”

“I will. Why did you leave? I imagine it was quite lucrative, and your report from Randtown helped secure your celebrity status.”

“She works for the Starflyer.”

Paula tilted her head to one side and gave Mellanie a searching look.

“That’s an interesting allegation.”

“But don’t you see it makes perfect sense? She’s always been tough on the navy. She’s just spinning the Starflyer’s propaganda, causing trouble for the one organization which can defend us.”

“You used her show to criticize me. Does that make you a Starflyer agent?”

“No! Look, I want to help. I know about the Cox. That’s how I found out about Baron. When I told her, she altered the records.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me now. What is this Cox?”

A little flare of temper made Mellanie put her hands on her hips. This wasn’t going the way she’d imagined it. She’d thought the Investigator would welcome offers of help from anyone who knew about the Starflyer and the huge danger it represented. “The education charity,” she said acerbically, which should jog the Hive woman’s memory. “The one that funded Dudley’s observation.”

“The break-in,” Paula said, reading something in her virtual vision. “The Guardians suspected the whole Bose observation was a deliberate manipulation.”

“And they were right.”

Paula’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really?”

“You know they were,” Mellanie hissed.

“I don’t.”

“But you must have. The Cox is a total fraud.”

“Not according to our investigations.”

“But …” Mellanie felt the skin down the back of her neck cooling rapidly. She didn’t understand the way Myo was reacting at all. Unless the Starflyer had got to her as well. “I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time. I … It was tough on Elan.” She turned and hurried back to the door. Backing off from people she used to trust was turning into a bad habit.

“Wait,” Paula said.

Mellanie froze, suddenly fearful. She reviewed the icons in her virtual vision, trying to work out if she could use any of the SI inserts to extricate herself if things turned nasty. Trouble was, she didn’t really understand half of them yet. She’d have to yell to the SI for help. The gold snakeskin of her virtual hand poised above the SI icon.

“You think I know something about the Cox,” Paula said. “Why?”

“You put me on to Dudley Bose. You must have known I would discover this.”

“I pushed you toward Bose because his wife once met Bradley Johansson. I was expecting you to go down that route to the Starflyer. Media allies would be useful to me. The only reports I recall on the break-in were that the Cox charity was legitimate.”

“It’s not. Well, it wasn’t. Baron had the records altered.”

“Interesting. If you’re telling me the truth, then the actual state of the Cox was withheld from me.”

“I am telling the truth,” Mellanie protested. She almost said,
Ask the SI.
But that would have given away too much. She still didn’t trust Paula.

“All right,” Paula said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Then what?”

“What did you come here for?”

“To see what you were doing, and to help.”

“And coincidentally wind up with the ultimate story.”

“Were you going to keep it secret?”

“If it’s all true, then no. But I really don’t think having a media celebrity dogging everything I do is helpful, do you?”

She couldn’t even say “reporter,”
Mellanie thought.
Bitch.
“Fine. Whatever.” She pushed at the big door, opening a way back out onto the relative safety of the street.

“If you do find anything concrete, then please come to me,” Paula said.

“Not the navy.”

“Right.” Mellanie took a few paces out, then stopped to gather her thoughts. She knew she’d unsettled Paula, but pleasant though it was, that wasn’t what she’d wanted to achieve. Right now, Mellanie needed someone to turn to with the terrible knowledge of Baron and the Starflyer, someone in authority, someone who would do something about it.
Just like some kid running to her parents.

Well, if the
great
Paula Myo was suspicious or undecided, she’d just have to damn well sort the problem out herself. With that thought, Mellanie nodded her head confidently and set off for the nearest Metro station.