Democracy's Light

Chapter Twelve

The guards hadn’t been rough, or abusive, but they’d made their point quite clear. They escorted Lady Madeline Hohenzollern through the corridors of the massive command fortress, threatening her with their push-prods whenever she even looked like slowing, until they finally escorted her into a room. Stacy Roosevelt, behind her, had made the mistake of trying to fight and had been zapped by one of the prods. A guard carried her, slung over his shoulder, while her body remained limp and unmoving. A push-prod somehow — Madeline had never studied the principle — disabled the body’s voluntary muscles for a short period of time, leaving Stacy completely helpless. The guards could do anything to her — to both of them — and they knew it.

She winced as they pushed her into a chair. The change had been so sudden! She’d been certain, of course, that Admiral Wilhelm was aware that he no longer needed them, but somehow she’d failed to consider the possible consequences. Her mind worked desperately to think of a way — some way, any way — that they could return to their ship and escape, but even if they succeeded, where would they go? There was nowhere that would welcome them, now, and Admiral Wilhelm wouldn’t let them escape. They knew too much about his plans and the future to be allowed to leave.

Stacy moaned, but Madeline barely spared her a glance. She wasn’t important any longer, not when bare survival itself was at stake… had it really only been seven months since she’d been at the High City, deciding the fate of the universe? The mighty, she reflected, had truly fallen… and if by some miracle she managed to escape, she could never return to the High City. The new administration would probably greet her and put her in front of a firing squad. Or, her mind gibbered, perhaps they would simply put her out an airlock and save themselves the cost of a firing squad. They certainly wouldn’t be pleased to see her.

“Ahem,” a voice said. She looked up to see Admiral Wilhelm, standing there, studying the pair of them. She had been so absolved in her own thoughts, trying desperately to think of some final stratagem to escape, that she hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “I trust that you are enjoying your new accommodation?”

Madeline managed to find a reserve of strength and glared at him. “What do you think you are doing?”

He lifted an eyebrow and it struck her, suddenly, that perhaps confrontation wasn’t the best strategy. She no longer cared, really. There was no way they could escape the trap, not now. If he were angry, perhaps he would have them both killed quickly. She ignored Stacy’s snivelling — she hadn’t been hurt at all in her life, until the rebels had taken her superdreadnaughts and turned her into a laughing stock — and focused on Wilhelm. Deciding that survival was no longer possible, she decided, was surprisingly liberating.

“I think I’m taking power for myself,” he said, his voice surprisingly even. Anyone from the High City, she realised, would probably have taken the opportunity for a gloat, although Wilhelm had grown up in an environment where he had to learn control from a very early age. “I received a courier boat from Carola yesterday.”

Madeline winced. Carola Wilhelm, the Admiral’s ambitious wife, who was far smarter than most aristocrats had ever given her credit for. Between them, they were a dangerous combination, which was why she hadn’t raised any objections when Wilhelm had sent her to Earth, but now she realised that it had been a mistake. Carola’s loyalties were firmly with her husband… and, on Earth, she would have the perfect opportunity to serve him.

“She had quite a few interesting things to say about you,” Wilhelm continued, and her heart sank. “For some reason, the pair of you are regarded as traitors, people who shunned both the new order and the old government. Your Families have disowned the pair of you, although there may never be another Roosevelt now” — he eyed Stacy, who said nothing — “and you are both… surplus to requirements. I don’t need you any longer and there is no one back on Earth I can offer you too… so why should I keep you alive?”

“You can’t do this to us,” Stacy protested. She’d managed to regain enough control to speak, although her words were oddly slurred. “The Roosevelt Clan will seek revenge for my death…”

“The Roosevelt Clan no longer exists,” Wilhelm reminded her. “Haven’t you been listening? The core of the Roosevelt Family is trying desperately to ally with other Families, just to keep some part of the name alive. The other Families that you brought into your Clan have snapped all ties and are frantically pretending that they had nothing to do with you, just to avoid paying some of your debts. There is no one who cares what happens to you, either of you.”

He turned back to Madeline and smiled, darkly. “They seem not to have quite accepted our declaration of independence,” he continued. “They’re sending quite a large fleet out here, enough ships to crush the Sector Fleet — if that was all they were going to be facing, but its not, is it?”

Madeline composed herself. “And the other Admirals?” She asked, carefully. “How do you intend to divide up the Empire between the four of you?”

“The same way you did, back when you founded your Empire,” Wilhelm said. “We will become the next set of Families, after having destroyed the rebellion and the old set of Families, of course. We won’t waste time bickering over the future once we’ve scored a victory, but we will press the victory right to the bitter end. If you’d supported Admiral Wachter to the hilt, you would never have lost Earth.”

He leaned forward. “And we won’t make the same mistake,” he continued. “We will retake Earth after destroying the rebel fleet and impose our own order on the Empire.”

“You won’t succeed,” Madeline said, icily. “How do you intend to run the Empire without us?”

“The same way I arranged the shipyards here,” Wilhelm said, dryly. “I placed them in the hands of their workers, rather than the mangers you appointed, and productivity skyrocketed. Do you have any idea how many innovative ideas were just ignored because they didn’t come from the right person? If I promote on merit, rather than connections, or the ability to hide their real feelings… and, most important of all, I remove the Family influence, what can’t they do?”

He leaned forward. “That’s the problem the rebels have, now,” he said. “I won’t have that problem.”

“Fine,” Madeline said, angrily. “You’ve won. Well done. What now?”

“You’re going to kill us,” Stacy said, in a small voice. Perhaps, Madeline decided, the reality of the situation had finally gotten through to her. “What did we ever do to you?”

Wilhelm stared at her. “You forced me and others to hide what we were behind a dumb mask, swallowing your insults and taunts, denied the positions we could reach through talent because you didn’t trust us,” he said, very coldly. “Do you have any right to be surprised when we prove you right and turn on you?”

Madeline met his eyes. “Do you have to gloat?”

“I spent years planning what I would say to you and the others like you if I ever had the chance,” Wilhelm said, calmly. “Why should I not gloat?” He leaned back from her and stood up. “The rebels are, understandably, a little irritated about the destruction of their ships. I think that you two might make suitable scapegoats, don’t you?”

He looked over at the guards. “Take them away to the special cells,” he ordered. “Put them in together, but otherwise completely isolated. We wouldn’t want them talking to anyone else until we were ready to deal with them properly, would we?”

Madeline stood with icy dignity and allowed the guard to lead her out of the room, holding Stacy’s arm with one hand. Wilhelm had kept them alive — or seemed to have decided to keep them alive for now — and she tried to convince herself that it was a mistake. If he handed them over to the rebels, alive, they could tell them everything… and so they wouldn’t be handed over alive. There would be an ‘accident’ before the rebels demanded to see them, if they ever did. They were alone.

The special cell was every bit as bad as she had imagined. It was a tiny box, barely large enough for them both to stand up in, dark and grimy, without even graffiti on the walls. Stacy had retreated completely inside herself, perhaps seeking the safety of madness, but Madeline refused to allow herself to go the same way. While there was life, there was hope… perhaps.

Admiral Wilhelm watched the two aristocratic bitches being escorted away and felt curiously numb. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Madeline that he’d dreamed of the day when he could spit in the collective eyes of the Thousand Families, but now the moment had come, he felt oddly conflicted. He hadn’t realised just how weak the Empire actually was, although he was honest enough to admit that he’d seen the signs, but he hadn’t read them correctly. As a person on the fringes of high society, married to a smart and brilliant woman — and with all the luxuries of his position — he hadn’t really had an incentive to rebel. Trying and failing would have meant the loss of the luxuries, the power, the… well, everything, really. He would have been executed, along with his wife and the remainder of his family, pour encourager les autues.

And a mere Commander starts a revolt that set the galaxy on fire, he thought, as he stepped out of the hatch and headed up towards his personal quarters. One advantage of having spent ten years effectively running a sector was that he had managed to identity and eliminate most of Imperial Intelligence’s spies, although he knew that nothing was ever certain where Imperial Intelligence was concerned. They might well have managed to sneak a handful through his precautions, even though he would have preferred to believe otherwise, and a single spy in the wrong place could be disastrous. It helped that Earth itself had fallen. Any spies left in his command would probably be wondering just who they should be reporting to these days.

He reached his quarters, accepted the salute from the Marine guarding the hatch, and stepped inside. There were signs of Carola’s presence everywhere, from the handful of tasteful paintings to the small collection of pre-space novels — forbidden to anyone without a special licence — on one wall and he felt a sudden pang of sorrow that she was gone. Their marriage had lasted far longer than anyone had expected — anti-aging treatments had ensured that most marriages eventually ended in divorce — but now he missed her. There was no one else he could send to Earth, no one else who could be trusted to represent his interests only, but the price was high. They’d always been honest with each other and he depended on her advice more than he liked to admit.

A muttered command brought up a strategic display of the sector and he considered it thoughtfully. It had been a fairly simple task, with the command and authorisation codes he’d had as part of his role as Sector Fleet Commander, to take over every defence system and starship in the sector. Where Colin Harper had had to cruise around, picking his fights carefully, he had simply been able to take the defences over and recruit people to follow him. It hadn’t been that hard. The resentment among the rank and file for the Thousand Families might have been carefully hidden, but it was strong enough to move mountains. He had no shortage of recruits.

But in the end, it was a losing posture if it came down to a war. He was sure of that. The rebels would have to fight him, sooner or later, or accept that the Empire was going to fall apart. They would bring their fleet to bear on the Cottbus Sector and it would melt away… unless he changed the parameters. He had the support of three other sectors, and more. The rebels didn’t know it, but they’d already been betrayed.

He keyed a command into his private terminal and waited until three holograms took on shape and form. Admiral Wolfsan was a short bearded man, with dark hair and a fixed grimace. Admiral Li Chang was tall and very oriental, with a china doll face and very long dark hair. She was a striking beauty and had, rumour suggested, exhausted four patrons to reach her current post. Admiral Madison was tall and very thin, with white hair and an air of patient dignity. He’d been pushed down so hard by the representatives of the Thousand Families that when he’d had a chance to rebel, he’d had the representatives tortured to death, just for starters. He was possibly the most ruthless person Wilhelm had ever met and he included himself among that number. If there were ever going to be a challenge, he would bet every credit in his account that it would come from Admiral Madison.

“You have taken the time, I assume, to assimilate the information from Earth,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He’d forwarded them all a copy of Carola’s message. Her agents had been busy on Earth and, even though the rebels had a stronger concept of security than the Thousand Families, had located enough information to allow them to plan out the next campaign. “Do you see any requirement for altering the first stage of our plan?”

There was a brief burst of chatter. They’d been sold on the concept of a joint offensive because none of them had the strength to strike alone, not against the rebels, but the plan had entailed some risks. The rebels didn’t know it, but almost every capital ship belonging to the four Admirals had been gathered near Cottbus, a bare light year from the star. They were completely beyond detection range and waiting for the chance to strike. The cruisers he’d destroyed had had no idea they were there.

His plan was simple enough. Interstellar warfare obeyed the KISS principle — Keep It Simple, Stupid — and relied on certain points. The rebels had to come to Cottbus. They had little choice, unless they intended to accept him as an independent player… and they wouldn’t do that. He certainly wouldn’t in their place. They would come, with the fleet they were dispatching — would have dispatched by now — to Cottbus… and he would meet them with overwhelmingly superior firepower. Even if they escaped — it was hard to pull off an ambush when the flicker drive existed — their confidence would take a beating. He already had the series of strikes planned that would drive on Earth and destroy the Provisional Government before they could react to the new realities.

And then the whole Empire would be at their feet, forever.

“I see little requirement for a change,” Li said, finally. Her voice was as seductive as the rest of her. “If we alter our plans now, we run the risk of confusing our people for little gain. We should not run the risk of attacking Hawthorn until after their main fleet has been destroyed.”

“I remind unconvinced that we should go after Hawthorn,” Admiral Madison said, his cold voice sending shivers down Wilhelm’s spine. He was surprised that Admiral Madison had been allowed to remain in command. He had no weaknesses — no drink, no drugs, few if any women or men in his life — and Imperial Intelligence disliked commanders who didn’t have weaknesses. “There is little point in tying down our forces for a siege or taking the base directly when it lacks the ability to threaten us.”

Wilhelm scowled. Hawthorn was a problem, the largest Imperial Navy base close to his sector… and, unfortunately, occupied by the rebels before he could make a grab for it himself. It wasn’t anything like as well-equipped as Cottbus — it hadn’t had a strong patron — but it would serve as the base for a major fleet deployment, if allowed to remain in rebel hands. On the other hand, it didn’t have any major shipyards and if they destroyed the mobile units, the world became irrelevant.

“We can leave that for the moment,” he said, drawing back the display. There was a single bunch of first-rank worlds… and then the core itself. “The main priority is destroying the rebel fleet.”

Li smiled. It was a beautiful and yet somehow chilling sight. “We have been training our people since we took over,” she said. “We can best the rebels at their own game, Markus, and crush their fleet.”

“I think so,” Wilhelm said. He looked around the room. “We may expect the rebels at any time a week from now. I expect all of you to be ready to engage them when they arrive.”

He smiled as their images flickered out, one by one, replaced by a very different shape. He hadn’t believed the newcomer when he had first arrived, but the offer was too good to pass up, whatever the dangers. The technology alone had been worthwhile, but the intelligence had been worth its weight in gold.

“And you?” Wilhelm asked. That section of the plan was one that he regarded as dangerously chancy. “Are you confident in your people?”

“Of course,” the Nerd said. He was a strangely inhuman form. Unlike the Geeks, their cousins, the Nerds generally went in for biological enhancement. The Nerd’s head was larger and more fragile than a baseline human’s head. They claimed that they thought twice as fast as any normal human. The sight was still somehow an unpleasant one. “They will carry out their tasks or die trying.”