Democracy's Light

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Daria walked into the room as if she owned it and sat down on a chair that had been old when the Empire had been formed from the ashes of the Federation. Tiberius watched, barely concealing the wince that formed in his heart, even though it was an ugly chair and worth very little, at least as far as he was concerned. His father had told him that someone had forged it, based on a far old design, and that the Family had kept it to illustrate a point. If he had known what that point actually was, he’d never had time to share it with his son.

He took his own seat more casually and smiled. “Jason will do as he is told,” he said, without bothering with any preamble. It wasn’t safe for her to stay too long at his estate, even though it was one of a handful of places where they could be sure of complete privacy. The official reason for the meeting, a discussion about Freebooter ships working to support Cicero mining interests, wouldn’t hold up under careful scrutiny. Somehow, it was hard to imagine that Colin wasn’t aware of some of their plans and that he was preparing a deadly counterattack. “I hit him with both the carrot and the stick.”

“Good,” Daria said, smoothly. Her gaze fell to the piece of artwork on the mantle. Dathi artwork was rare throughout the Empire, not least because it was officially banned and regarded as almost blasphemous by the commoners, who would quite happily report anyone possessing a piece without a special licence. Tiberius disliked it, even though it served a purpose; he had the nagging feeling that there was some message in the artwork that was lurking at the very edge of perception. One of his ancestors had collected several pieces, picked up from the ruined and blasted worlds that had been left orbiting uncaring stars, but he would have preferred to dispose of them. Like most of the Family’s vast collection, placed within a bombproof shelter deep below the estate, it was left alone unless it came back into fashion. “We do not want to lose either him or Lady Tyler.”

Tiberius frowned. “She did give up her title,” he pointed out. “Do we really need to keep her even if she agrees to join us?”

Daria smiled. “She’s the most competent person running the Empire’s economy in the last fifty years,” she said. “Yes, we need her, if only to provide a degree of continuity that would otherwise be lacking. She isn’t exactly Gwendolyn, of course, but she’s someone we’re going to need and someone we have a hold on.”

“She could have reclaimed her title at any time,” he said, remembering a brief discussion with Lord Tyler. Unlike Jason Cordova, Kathy had never been disowned by her Family, despite her allegiance to the rebels. “She chose not to reclaim it. Can she be trusted?”

“Very few people can be trusted,” Daria said. There was a mocking, almost amused, note in her voice, an icy reminder that she’d been betrayed and forced to flee her throne. “People are governed by self-interest. I dare say that Colin could find something to break the ties between you and I, if he knew about us and decided that it was a good idea.”

“He couldn’t,” Tiberius protested. What was it about her that made him obedient? It wasn’t just her legend, or the covert support she could call on from the most surprising places, but something else. She reminded him of Joshua, but older and sharper… and perhaps more ruthless. “What could he find to offer me?”

Daria shrugged. “It hardly matters,” she said, absently. “Have you and Alicia finally set a date for the wedding?”

The sudden change in the subject caught Tiberius by surprise. “Two weeks,” he said, finally. He hadn’t wanted a fancy wedding, knowing that almost all Family weddings ended in divorce, but Alicia’s Family had insisted. It was important, more than ever, to give the Cicero Clan a Heir, but it would also create a weakness in his defences. If one of his enemies took his child and used him or her against him… the result could be disastrous. “I trust that Daria, Leader of the Freebooters, will be attending?”

“I have my own matters to attend to,” Daria said. As Empress, she would be expected to attend such weddings, but until she took her throne back, she could avoid them at will, even though Tiberius could send her an invitation. It was going to be the most cosmopolitan wedding of the decade, with hundreds of commoners who’d found places in the new government, including the MPs, invited to attend. He even hoped that Colin and Cordova would attend. “Perhaps the wedding would make a suitable moment to assassinate Colin?”

Tiberius flinched slightly. “I thought you liked him,” he protested. “How can you cold-bloodily contemplate his death?”

“I do like — and respect — him,” Daria said, an odd note in her voice. “I also know that he will bring down the Empire if he continues to push forward his reformation program, with or without the threat from Admiral Wilhelm. That cannot be allowed. Colin may be operating from the best possible motives, but he cannot be continue with the Empire itself at stake. I thought that he could be controlled, given time, but he’s decided to be his own man. We have no choice, but to remove him.”

“I see,” Tiberius said. He thought of Alicia, an innocent insofar as any of the Families were innocent, and felt an odd pang. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought it was love… and guilt. “You can’t use my wedding as an assassination venue.”

“Why not?” Daria asked, dryly. She looked up at the chart of the High City that had been placed on one wall. “The only way to get at Colin in the High City relies on luck or extreme force… and neither are guaranteed. A single shipkiller would destroy the entire city — and most of the surrounding continent — but launching one and getting it through the defences would be tricky. It would also tip our hand, while slipping an assassin through the security network would be almost impossible. The Marines are, after all, very good at their job… and loyal to Colin. We cannot subvert one of them without revealing our presence.”

Tiberius scowled. “Marines are human, aren’t they?” He said, remembering Joshua’s straight-faced assertion that Marines ate nails for breakfast and chewed raw iron for lunch and dinner. “They can be conditioned to obey us…”

“Not without breaking the implants they have inserted into their brains, designed to prevent someone with a few bright ideas from doing just that,” Daria said, flatly. “The only way to get a conditioned Marine into the Corps would be to condition the person before they started their training and that would take time we don’t have. Most of the original High City staff were cleared out when Colin’s forces took over the city, so we don’t even have access to them.”

“A pleasure slave?” Tiberius asked. He didn’t know how Daria controlled them — it should have been impossible and, had it not been for the death of Lord Roosevelt, he would have thought that it was impossible — but she did, somehow. “Why can’t one of them be used to assassinate Colin?”

“He doesn’t use any of the ones assigned to the High City,” Daria said. There was an unmistakable note of frustration in her voice. “I don’t know if he doesn’t use them because he finds them creepy, as many people do, or because he feels that he shouldn’t be taking advantage of his position, but he never lets one close enough to him to do anything nasty to him.” She scowled. “Besides, it’s hard to slip them specific instructions.”

Tiberius considered it thoughtfully. He’d had all of his pleasure slaves studied carefully after Lord Roosevelt’s death and they’d found nothing. They’d just been pleasure slaves… but the Roosevelt Clan’s security agents would have studied the remains of the assassin after she’d been killed, and compared it to their security checks before accepting her into the household. They hadn’t found anything either, but the death had broken the Roosevelt Clan. Daria’s admission that it was hard to slip them specific instructions meant… what?

“I see,” he said, shaking his head. It was time to be honest and open. “I don’t like the thought of using a wedding as an assassination venue.”

“A wedding or your wedding?”

Tiberius winced. “My wedding, yes,” he admitted. “Your Majesty, I don’t like the thought of exposing either myself or Alicia to an assassination attempt.”

“The attempt will be aimed at Colin, not you,” Daria assured him. Her voice softened slightly. “Besides, can you think of any better time to take a shot at him?”

“No,” Tiberius admitted. As long as Colin was careful, and he had two very competent security officers looking out for him, he would remain fairly safe. The wedding might be the only chance to take him out of the game before it was too late to reform the Empire on their terms. “Are you sure that we can move at once to take control?”

Daria nodded, without going into specifics. “Yes,” she said, flatly. “We can take control at once.” She leaned forward. “And you have my word that neither yourself nor your wife will be in any real danger. The only person targeted will be Colin.”

“How reassuring,” Tiberius said. He claimed no special expertise at military matters, but Joshua had taught him how quickly matters could spin out of control. An inch of prevention, he’d said, was far better than a mile of cure. “If you believe that there is no choice…”

Daria smiled like a little girl. “There is none,” she said. “Believe me, if we fail now, the Families will be swept away and destroyed, along with most of the Empire.”

“Unless Admiral Wilhelm takes control of Earth,” Tiberius said grimly. “Are you sure that we can best him if we have to fight him?”

“Admiral Wilhelm doesn’t have either the past legitimacy of the Thousand Families — and me, of course — or Colin’s democratic state,” Daria said, flatly. “He may have united four Admirals under his banner, but that won’t last if they do take Earth, not when they could fall out and make a grab for the throne themselves. It’s what happened to Angus, a long time ago; his grab for the throne and a chain of successors was eventually defeated by your own ancestors. They chose to share out the booty rather than win or lose it all.”

Tiberius nodded slowly, taking her point. Admiral Wilhelm would only drag the Empire further down into disintegration and chaos, even if he won the war, which would only shatter the Empire and destroy humanity’s unity once and for all. Colin’s plan for a federal Empire would be preferable, even if that risked a power struggle between Earth and the outer worlds that would tear the Empire in two. No, the Empire needed a strong man — or woman — at the helm, who could instigate a process of reform while preventing it from spinning out of control.

If that’s possible, he thought, bitterly. The Empire had changed so much in the months since he’d first heard that Colin Harper, a mere Commander, had raised the standard of rebellion in the Harmony Sector. Who would have believed that the very foundations of the Empire would shake and the Thousand Families — and the Empress they’d betrayed — would be forced to skulk around on Earth, the seat of their power, plotting to tear down a man many of them feared and hated? No one would have predicted that it would come to this — no one, apart from Colin… and the woman facing him, smiling a very slight smile. It was at times like that when he wondered how she managed to fool the remainder of the Thousand Families, including the ones who’d known her as the Empress Janice, into believing that she was simply Daria.

They don’t want to look, he realised, and shivered. They believed, firmly, in their own prejudices and someone who came from the Freebooters could never be taken seriously. They missed the fact that Daria, a woman in a man’s world, had built up a cadre of loyal Freebooters who would do anything for her, having survived and prospered in the most brutal of environments. They might whisper insults behind her back, they might underestimate her — after all, she was only a commoner as far as they knew — but they wouldn’t take her seriously. They wouldn’t realise the truth until it was too late to save them.

She’s going to be in the most powerful position of all, he thought, grimly. If she succeeds in her plan, she’s not just going to be Empress again, she’s going to be the supreme ruler of the Empire, the most powerful person in history. She could not only avenge such insults, but ensure that her own people rise to power… and I’m committed to helping her!

The thought was a bitter realisation. He’d found himself supporting her because his father had set matters up on the assumption that he would still be alive when the Empress finally returned, but now he was committed. Even if he went directly to Colin and confessed everything, it would mean the end for the Thousand Families. Colin would have no choice, but to strike as ruthlessly and decisively as possible and he would wipe out the entire structure. Tiberius had been carefully manoeuvring to keep as much as possible, but now… now, Colin would have all the excuse he needed to obliterate the Thousand Families. Daria had entrapped him as surely as if she’d tied him to her throne and forced him to play her game, knowing that he couldn’t even run.

“I hope you’re right,” he said, neutrally, feeling his senses reeling. He found himself looking at her in a whole new way, seeing past the face to the personality underneath, hungry for power and determined to take the Empire for herself. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could unseat her afterwards… or maybe she would strike first, once he was no further use to her. “The wedding is in two weeks, so don’t you think that you should make preparations to strike?”

“All in good time,” Daria said, calmly. She leaned forward, her long red hair falling down onto her breasts. It would have been almost seductive, but Tiberius could see the cold-hearted manipulation behind the motion. Somehow, he was sure that she might be willing to seduce him, or anyone else, but it would mean nothing to her. The normal human weaknesses had been burned out of her long ago. His father and his allies had created a monster. “I imagine that Pompey will be handling the security arrangements?”

“Unless Colin and his men insist on taking the lead,” Tiberius said. It wasn’t uncommon, when senior Family Members were involved, for their security staff to insist on taking point… and Colin certainly ranked higher than most of the Families, these days. “Would that be a problem?”

“Oh, perhaps,” Daria said, as if it was barely important enough to matter. She tossed her hair back and stood up in one smooth motion. She wore the standard Freebooter outfit, a tight-fitting shipsuit, as if it were a military uniform. It was strange, he realised numbly, that he hadn’t seen that before. “I’ll get in touch with you in a week’s time to arrange for the wedding surprise.”

He watched her leaving the room and scowled. She might just intend to blow up the entire wedding hall with all the guests, including him. It was hard to see how such an act would benefit her, but he’d learned not to underestimate her before… and she had her own agenda. The only guarantee he had was that he was still useful to her… and that wasn’t a sure-fire guarantee of anything. It would be easy to inform Colin of the truth, but that would mean certain destruction.

Bitch, he thought.

“Hey, are you finished with her?”

Tiberius looked up to see Gwendolyn. For a woman who was over seventy years old, old enough to remember Daria as the Empress Janice, Gwendolyn seemed to take a private amusement in posing as a sixteen-year-old, an act that fooled almost everyone. Tiberius had known better than to trust her completely — it was no secret that she thought she would make a much better Cicero than him — but it had still been a shock to discover that she had maintained links to the Empress for years.

“I suppose,” he said, reflecting on the double or triple meaning. Gwendolyn was yet another reminder of the dangers of opposing Daria. She could remove him and ensure that Gwendolyn became the Clan Head. “What do you want?”

“Charming as ever,” Gwendolyn said, taking Daria’s vacated seat and sitting in the perfect position to show off her legs. If Tiberius hadn’t known that they had come straight from the most fashionable cosmetic shop in the High City, he might have been impressed. As it was, the display was a little childish. “I was wondering if you knew what had happened to Carola?”

It took Tiberius a moment to place the name. “As far as I know, she’s in a detention centre,” he said, finally. Colin had sent her there after the news of Cottbus had finally arrived. It wasn’t something Tiberius could fault, even if the crisis provided some grounds for their own operations. “Why do you care?”

“Oh, I don’t,” Gwendolyn said. She crossed her long legs and smiled at him. “I merely wanted to talk with her again before she left the planet. She is truly a fascinating woman.”

“Well, go show Colin your body and ask him,” Tiberius snapped, angrily. She didn’t even flinch at his anger. “Go away. I’m busy.”