The Lost Stars (10 page)

“Colonel Rogero told me Kontos was good,” Drakon remarked.

“Yes,” Iceni agreed, her voice not quite steady yet. “He has a great future. If I don't kill him first.”

“There's one group left,” Morgan interceded, as they watched Kommodor Marphissa's flotilla moving to intercept the enigmas who had attacked the mobile forces facility. “The one heading for the gate.”

Drakon eyed them sourly. “The mysterious six ships saved us from the first group, Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos saved us from the second with some help from Kommodor Marphissa when she catches those enigmas, and now we have to depend on CEO Boyens to save us from the third.”

“Well, we've already seen at least one miracle today,” Iceni replied. “Maybe a second or third isn't too much to hope
for.”

As it turned out, the last group of enigma warships broke off their attack and headed for the jump point for Pele at the best speed they could, which was considerable. “They've had enough,” Drakon observed. He had seen that often enough with human combatants. There always came a point when the will to fight faltered and failed. The better the fighters, the longer it took to reach that point, but sooner or later almost any force would break if subjected to enough damage. Whatever else was true of the enigmas, they were like humanity in that respect as well. There was some comfort in knowing that.

Knowing things. He looked at Black Jack's fleet, which had gone into enigma-controlled space and come back again, accompanied by the mysterious six ships as well as the massive ship being towed by Alliance battleships. “How much do you think he'll tell us of what he's learned?”

Iceni shook her head. “I can't guess. He may demand a price for what he has learned.”

“What price? We don't have a
lot.”

“I don't know.” But Iceni seemed worried, and Morgan bent a smirk her way as if Morgan knew the answer.

“We probably ought to say something to him,” Drakon commented.

“Yes. Let's do it formally.” Iceni led him back to the private office, where he once again sat beside her. “What do you wish to
say?”

What did he want to say? Drakon glanced unobtrusively at Malin, who just as subtly communicated a suggestion to defer to Iceni.
All right. Better to be quiet than to sound stupid.
“I'll leave this one to you,” he told Iceni. “We do need to tell Black Jack that we're not on good terms with Boyens and his flotilla.”

“Of course. If we can get Black Jack to commit to us, CEO Boyens won't have a chance. Anything else?”

“No. I just want to make sure Black Jack sees us together so he knows we're jointly deciding on whatever is said.”

Iceni inclined her head toward Drakon, then faced the pickup and gestured for the transmission to start. “We are in your debt again, Admiral Geary. I don't know the nature of your allies, but we owe them an immense debt as well.

“My warships will engage the enigmas heading for my battleship. I cannot control the actions of the flotilla near the hypernet gate. Do not trust that the flotilla there will act in our interest, Admiral. CEO Boyens, their commander, is known to you. If you make your orders clear to him, he may hesitate to act contrary to them. It is essential that Boyens understands that he is not in control of this star system and does not dictate what will happen here. For the people, Iceni,
out.”

She relaxed, then noticed Drakon looking at her. “Did I say something inappropriate?”

He motioned to Malin, indicating he should leave, then waited until the door sealed again before answering Iceni. “
My
battleship?
My
warships?”

“I said
my
? I thought I said
our
.”

“No.” A small thing, but also a clear unilateral claim on the most powerful military assets in this star system. Drakon realized that he was galled by recent events, that he had been forced to sit by with his soldiers and watch others defend and save Midway Star System.
I know ground forces couldn't have done anything against those threats. But it still annoys the hell out of me that her warships, and Black Jack's, did all the heavy lifting.

Iceni tapped one finger on the table several times, watching it as if the gesture required concentration. “If that's a concern, then I will modify the description of the forces when next I speak of them.” She looked over at him again, showing Drakon a poker face that left him wondering what Iceni was really feeling.

“Fine. As long as it is clear I have an equal level of control here.”

“That has never been in question.” Iceni locked her eyes on his. “General Drakon, we cannot afford to mistake who our allies
are.”

“Gwen . . . I regret our earlier misunderstanding.”

“You mean when your officer threatened
me?”

Iceni obviously wasn't going to make this easy. “It won't happen again. I'm going to make certain of that.”

She looked carefully at the security lights glowing above the doorway, ensuring that no one could overhear their conversation. “Artur, the only way to be certain that officer does not act that way again is to get rid of her. You know that as well as I
do.”

“If you knew her history—” Drakon began stubbornly.

“I do know her history.”

That shouldn't have been a surprise despite the highly classified nature of Morgan's early record. Iceni had done her homework. “Morgan had some bad breaks. If she couldn't do her job, that wouldn't serve as an excuse. But the fact is that she does get the job done. She found that snake agent in the command center way before anyone else.”

Iceni leaned back, frowning at him. “It could have been a setup. The snakes still in hiding in this star system would have known we were closing in on that agent. They could have leaked that information to Morgan.”

“Why?”

“To deflect suspicion from
her.”

Drakon had to pause, momentarily at a loss for words. “Gwen, seriously, if you knew more about Morgan, you'd know that's impossible. She really, truly, hates the snakes. She also hates the Syndicate. They messed her up, and while she won't admit that, Morgan wants revenge.”

Iceni pursed her lips, thinking. “Confirm my data. She was
messed up
as you put it by mental conditioning for a suicide mission into enigma space when she was barely eighteen.”

“Right. She spent about twenty years frozen in survival sleep, inside a hollowed-out asteroid headed for an enigma-occupied world. She, and the others in the mission, were supposed to be awakened just before atmospheric entry, reach the surface, and send back whatever information they could before the enigmas killed them. But the mission got canceled when the leading asteroids were destroyed by the enigmas, and Morgan and one other soldier were recovered to try to find out how their presence had been compromised to the enigmas.”

“That matches,” Iceni said. Whatever she was thinking was once again hidden behind her eyes. “Chronologically, she's twice her apparent
age.”

“Yeah. Biologically, she's about the same age as Malin. Not that either of them finds that a basis for getting along.”

Iceni shook her head. “I can't tell you how to run your own staff. But I can tell you that she is, in my opinion, dangerous.”

“You think she's a threat to me?” Drakon asked.

“Yes,” Iceni replied, surprising him. “Don't get your back up until you hear me out. I do not believe that Colonel Morgan would intentionally do you harm. She has an intense loyalty toward you. What you ought to be worried about is where that loyalty could lead her, what actions she might take in the belief that they are in your best interests.”

My best interests? Where have I heard that before?
Drakon wondered.

Taroa. Morgan said exactly that. “General Drakon, everything I do is in your best interests.”
Even at the time he had wondered what that might mean.

But that it might constitute a threat to him? Morgan had her quirks, but she never would have gotten that medical waiver if she wasn't stable enough to meet Syndicate standards. Granted that Syndicate standards could be elastic, but they left no room for loose cannons who didn't have an important patron supporting them. And Morgan had not had any such patron.

Nonetheless, Drakon could understand Iceni's grounds for concern. “All right. I will ensure that Morgan knows that if anything happens to you, or to anyone else without my very clear and specific orders, all of her past service to me won't save her from the consequences.”

Her eyes searched his for a long moment before Iceni replied. “This is a dilemma. I like you because you don't cast aside people who become inconvenient. But that character trait also makes life more difficult for me. Very well. Warn her. I'll be watching
her.”

“So will I,” Drakon said. He gave her a skeptical look. “You like
me?”

Iceni sighed and spread her hands. “A little. Is that so unusual?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” He smiled deprecatingly. “I'm not easy.”

“And I'm not cheap,” Iceni said, a momentary smile appearing, then vanishing again. “There's work I should be doing.”

“Me, too.”
Don't trust, don't get too close, don't mix your job and personal issues, never, ever, make the mistake of letting down your guard because of personal feelings.
The old warnings, which had saved him more than once while climbing the ranks of the Syndicate hierarchy, echoed in Drakon's head as they left the office.

But, dammit, I like her, too. A little.

“I
reviewed the interrogation of the snake agent done by President Iceni's personnel,” Colonel Malin reported. “I conducted my own as well. I agree with the results given to you. This particular snake agent knows nothing of use to us. Her disposal is awaiting your approval.”

Drakon sat back in his chair, in his office, grateful to be back in his own headquarters complex, surrounded by people whose loyalty to him was beyond question. He ran Malin's last words through his mind again while Malin waited patiently, standing in the respectful and almost-at-attention posture that seemed the most casual attitude that he ever took toward Drakon.

“Disposal.” That was one of the official and accepted Syndicate terms for executing someone.
Dispose of the prisoners. How many times have I heard that?
Drakon wondered.

He hated the word. He had hated it for a very long time.

But, exact wording aside, the woman's fate didn't have any room for debate. She had worked for the snakes. She had claimed, and the interrogation had borne out, that she had been blackmailed into cooperation by threats to her family, but that made no difference. She could expect no mercy even from her former coworkers. Letting her go was simply impossible.

And yet Drakon felt a strange reluctance to order her “disposal.” “What about President Iceni? Has she given orders about the prisoner?”

“Her office approved disposal, General.”

“
President Iceni
approved disposal, or
her office
approved disposal?” Drakon demanded.

Malin paused. “Sir, I will have to check on whether the President personally approved the decision.”

Did something this routine fall under his agreement with Iceni? Probably. She should have coordinated with him before approving killing the agent. Especially since there was no need to rush the execution. But why delay it? It would be different if the snake agent was still of some use . . .

Drakon felt himself smiling. “Colonel Malin, suppose we kept her alive?”

“Alive?” For once in his life, Malin seemed to be baffled.

“Suppose you were the covert snakes still hidden on this planet, in this star system, and you knew we had captured that woman, then you learned that we hadn't executed her. What would you think?”

Malin puzzled over the question very briefly, then his expression cleared. “I would think that she was still of some use to
us.”

“Right. That she's still valuable to us. So what would you
do?”

“Try to get to her. Eliminate her myself.” Malin smiled approvingly at Drakon. “You want to keep her as bait to force some of the other snake agents in this star system to reveal themselves.”

“That's the idea.” Wasn't it? Maybe that was the only reason he had felt reluctant to dispose of the woman.

But he was sick to death of death. Gwen Iceni had been talking to him about something before the enigmas and Boyens had shown up, something about new ways of doing business that didn't involve casual executions and unchecked power for those in authority. “Bran, do you have anything on systems of government that contain limitations on power for those in charge?”

Malin nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. I can provide you some. Texts on political science and history.”

“If politics is a science, it's a perverted one,” Drakon grumbled. “I know why a lot of people support the kind of power CEOs can wield in the Syndicate system. They hope to become CEOs themselves and have that kind of clout.”

“Don't underestimate the fear such a system generates,” Malin cautioned. “Many fear to speak out when even innocuous words can be used to justify any penalty. And, if we are honest, many actually believe such power in the hands of those at the top is necessary to maintain order and security.”

“Yet they hate the snakes,” Drakon said derisively. “That's what the Syndicate system led to and justifies, an Internal Security Service that we feared more than we did the Alliance.”

“Yes, sir. That's exactly what it leads to. I'll get you those texts, General.”

Despite the absurdity of Iceni's suspicions about Morgan, they had kept nagging at him, and the mention of snakes had brought them to the forefront. “Colonel Malin, how certain are we of the information we have regarding Colonel Morgan's past? Is there anything important that I haven't seen?”