《The Mechaneer》


 Chapter 1: The Animus Hunter

    Chapter 1: The Animus Hunter


    The image on the screen, an almost imperceptible frown on a heart-shaped face, oversized almond eyes tight at the corners, and, most telling, triangular ears pressed flat, told Chloe Rina Hughes all she needed to know. She needed to go home.


    As she¡¯d expected.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Mom?¡± Chloe asked.


    ¡°I picked up a gravitic distortion,¡± her mother, Ellie, said. ¡°Small, but close. You need to come back to Mother Goose.¡±


    Ellie¡¯s voice remained calm. To most people, her expression would have looked it, too, but Chloe knew better. Ellie was a felid, a hybrid of human and feline DNA. Her ears were as expressive as anyone¡¯s else¡¯s face, and Chloe had grown up reading them. Right now, they told her Ellie was worried.


    Only a ship tunneling into the system would distort its gravity so far from the stars and planets at its heart. It might just mean passerbys.


    It might mean pirates.


    Chloe glanced at the pile of memorabilia she¡¯d dug from a locker aboard the abandoned space station. Posters for idol-orchestras decades before her time, discs with recordings of their concerts, statues and knick-knacks, an actual, physical book commemorating a tour decades ago. She¡¯d found the stash by searching the same nooks and crannies she kept her own memorabilia in. She could find more. She knew how much her family needed the money.


    She knew she didn¡¯t have time.


    She exchanged nods with Ellie. ¡°I¡¯ll be right home.¡±


    Ellie¡¯s transmission hadn¡¯t come at an odd time or over emergency channels. It could have been a routine check-in. Until she saw Ellie¡¯s expression, Chloe had no logical reason to expect trouble. Why had she prelit the thrusters of her mecha, Gosling Two, before Ellie¡¯s face appeared on her screen? Why had she begun to back out of the residential block she¡¯d wedged it into?


    She¡¯d had a hunch.


    Now she had an excuse to act on it.


    At a thought, the hand of Gosling Two scooped the pile she¡¯d assembled into a repossessed cargo container. Gently, since her machine could crush a far more resilient haul, but fast as she dared.


    Another thought and Gosling Two crawled backwards into the station¡¯s promenade. Unlike the residential block, it offered her space to stand her nine-meter-tall mecha upright and even use her maneuvering thrusters. An agile former scout machine, it fit Chloe¡¯s skills and the cramped quarters she often had to move through. She jetted over a broken railing, down two floors, and into a docking tunnel built to accommodate mecha.


    If the station had remained operational, she would have had to wait for one of its industrial airlocks to cycle her out. Of course, if it had been operational, the crew of the salvage ship Mother Goose would have had no reason to visit, much less to bring their mecha inside. Derelicts like this, rarer every year as the Civil War receded further into memory, were their workplaces.


    Chloe would have liked to visit thriving space stations, but at least empty ones offered a quicker exit. She jetted out of the cavity where the airlock would have been. A shell from a capital ship had blown it, and much of the surrounding hull, away. Similar holes and craters pockmarked the torus of the station, except where its superstructure caved in entirely. The central spire that would have housed station management listed at the edge of Chloe¡¯s sensor range, torn away during the attack.


    Most days, she gave little thought to where the ruins her family scavenged came from. They were as much a part of the backdrop of her life as the light of the stars or the soft hum of the Mother Goose¡¯s engines.


    Today, she couldn¡¯t help but think of the people who¡¯d lived on the station. She kept posters of idol-orchestras and listened to recordings of their music, just like whoever¡¯s abandoned room she¡¯d been raiding. Had they left their memorabilia behind when the battle lines of the Civil War drew near? Chloe had seen no bodies, but the station must have been visited by other salvagers to have lacked its complement of mecha and its valuable electronics. They might have laid the human remains to rest.


    When she salvaged scrap electronics and mecha parts, it was easy to forget they¡¯d belonged to someone who was probably dead now. Personal effects made her wonder whose home she¡¯d been picking through, who had attacked it, why.


    Chloe¡¯s parents didn¡¯t like to talk about the war, probably because they¡¯d been on opposite sides. Her dad, Jack, had signed on with the Oligarchial fleets to fight the mechaneer-aristocracy, who he saw as using their resources and psychic powers to oppress ordinary people. Ellie had grown up on an aristocratic world and saw the nobles as heroes, fighting not just to retain their rule but for hybrids like her to be treated as people rather than property. They¡¯d agreed on that last point, which was probably why Jack resigned and left the war behind.


    They seemed to agree both sides kept their battles far from inhabited planets and civilian stations, too, so what happened to this one? Maybe it had been dragooned into a command center or refueling station, or maybe it was hit by pirates who took advantage of the chaos.


    Or maybe Chloe¡¯s parents tried to keep the worst of the war from her.


    Regardless, she wouldn¡¯t have minded leaving the station behind, except she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling whatever waited for her would be worse.


    She guided Gosling Two to the open mecha bay of the Mother Goose. She set her cargo down in the nearest of six open berths, then backed her mecha into another.


    At least they had plenty of cargo space. When Chloe was a little girl, all but one of the berths held a mecha. They¡¯d had pilots, too, and a ship¡¯s engineer and doctor. As the salvage pickings thinned out, the Mother Goose¡¯s crew found other employment. Two of the pilots owned their own mecha and took them to their new homes. The last was sold for scrap.


    Chloe had grown up with that crew, learned to fly and maintain those mecha. Seeing the empty mecha bay still ached. Now only she, Jack and Ellie remained. She wondered how much longer they could hold on to the Mother Goose itself. The boxy, long-necked Baldur-class transport had been home for as long as Chloe could remember. Without it, what would they do? Could they even remain Spacers, or would they have to settle on a planet?


    Chloe shivered at the thought. Jack accepting someone else¡¯s captaincy would turn their world upside down, but at least they¡¯d keep living on a world that could turn upside down. A planet, with its constant gravity, its unmoving scenery, and its groundling customs? Unimaginable.


    The doors of the mecha bay closed and atmosphere hissed back. Chloe sent a transmission to her still-absent father. ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming home, Dad?¡±


    Jack Hughes¡¯s broad face appeared on one of her mecha¡¯s screens. He offered up a smile she only knew was forced because she¡¯d seen his expressions for so long. ¡°Not yet, Clo. I¡¯m staying in Gosling One to keep an eye on whoever¡¯s paying us a visit.¡±


    ¡°Should I redeploy?¡± Chloe asked. She piloted the family¡¯s scout mecha. Her father¡¯s was a surplus line mecha, bigger, stronger, built to fight and capable of hauling heavier cargo. ¡°Two has better eyes.¡±


    Jack shook his head. ¡°You check in with your mom.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re gearing up to fight,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°I won¡¯t start anything. If it turns out I have to finish it...¡± He shrugged. ¡°Better them than us.¡±


    If it turned out they needed to run, they could, in theory, create a compression tunnel here at the edge of the system¡¯s gravity well. It might not be safe, but it might be safer than whatever Chloe feared was coming. No running if one of them was outside the ship, though.


    She told herself she had to trust her father.


    Telling herself so didn¡¯t make it easy to pop Gosling Two¡¯s cockpit and descend its access ladder. She sprinted to the Mother Goose¡¯s bridge as much to keep her mind off her worries as to see what was happening.


    When the door opened and she got a look at the main screen, she wished she¡¯d taken her time.


    She¡¯d expected to see a ship rounding the curve of the station. The equipment to generate a compression tunnel between stars took up too much space to be mounted on any smaller chassis, and prepping mecha for launch right after a compression jump guaranteed churning stomachs and bad piloting. Any crew disciplined enough to pull it off wouldn¡¯t need to against a ship the size of the Mother Goose.


    The figure facing off with her dad¡¯s mecha was undoubtedly humanoid, though. A mecha, but like none Chloe had ever seen. The technical specifications hovering next to it on the screen told her it stood twenty meters tall, twice the height of Gosling One, but she needed no numbers to see how it loomed over her dad¡¯s machine. Its glossy beetle-brown and matte black paint made it blend with the space at its back and drew her attention to its one point of brightness: the faceplate, bone white and strangely smooth, shaped halfway between a bird¡¯s beak and a mosquito¡¯s proboscis. It looked as much like a titanic creature as a machine.


    Chloe wiped her brow when the Mother Goose¡¯s computer offered the familiar chirp of an incoming transmission. Whatever the strange mecha was, at least it was a mecha, not some monster pulled from her nightmares.


    Ellie tapped the panel before her and cut the camera feed from the bridge. ¡°You better take the call, Jack.¡±


    ¡°Already got it, hon.¡± Jack did most of the negotiating with anyone whose opinion on hybrids they weren¡¯t sure of. In the last year, Chloe had even taken turns talking up customs agents and port authorities, though only when they hadn¡¯t had anything to bluff about.


    She resented that her mother couldn¡¯t speak for their family, more than Ellie herself seemed to.


    Today, Chloe just wished none of them had to take a call from whoever was piloting the mecha looming in front of the Mother Goose. She didn¡¯t even want to watch, but she owed her parents that much and more.


    When the communications window popped up before her, it took her a moment to realize it. The pilot¡¯s flight suit was the same black and brown as his mecha, his helmet capped by the same beaked, bone-white mask.


    He looked the part of a monster, so when he spoke, his voice startled Chloe. Though deep, it sounded bland, almost monotone, with the precise intonations of an actor from the capital-world Etemenos. ¡°You are Captain Jack Hughes, of the salvage vessel Mother Goose?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Free Spacer and licensed salvager, in the flesh. On the screen, anyway. What can I do for you, Mister...?¡±


    ¡°Zelph.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Zelph ¨C¡±


    ¡°Animus Hunter Zelph.¡±


    Chloe had already known what he had to be, but hearing the words spoken still made her glad she wasn¡¯t broadcasting her shudder to his screen. Only telekinesis could open a compression tunnel between the stars without a machine even bigger than Zelph¡¯s mecha. Only members of the Animus Hunter Corps would use that power so openly within the bounds of the Federated Stars, because anyone else would fear a visit from them. They pursued renegade nobles and out-of-control errants. What happened when they caught their prey, nobody seemed to know, but Chloe knew it couldn¡¯t be good.


    Even people the Animus Hunters had no business with feared them.


    So it impressed Chloe all the more when her father just laughed.


    Zelph¡¯s expression remained hidden, but she thought his mask drew back in what might have been surprise.


    Jack said, ¡°I guess I don¡¯t have to report you to the Animus Hunters on account of how you dropped in, then.¡±


    ¡°Your civic mindedness is appreciated, Captain.¡±


    ¡°Least I can do. I fought for the Federated Stars, you know. I¡¯ll be damned I¡¯m gonna let a bunch of nobs go around stepping on people after we just got done kicking them out.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m familiar with your military record, Captain.¡± Zelph must have called it up on another of his mecha¡¯s screens, because he began to quote it. ¡°Voluntary enlistment. Four years with corporate security, during which your successes earned you decorations for both valor and skill. Three more with the Devil Ray unit.¡±


    Jack shrugged. ¡°I just did my best.¡±


    ¡°What you did was very impressive. I fought beside the Devil Rays at the Battle of Etemenos. They acquitted themselves well even against the Imperial Guard.¡±


    Chloe bit her lip.


    Jack stretched his neck.


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Zelph said. ¡°You did not fight at Etemenos, did you, Captain Hughes?¡±


    ¡°No, sir, I did not,¡± Jack said. ¡°My boss and I had a... disagreement.¡±


    ¡°It must have been a very serious one.¡±


    ¡°Was.¡±


    ¡°And yet your resignation was accepted and granted with honor, immediately before the last and bloodiest year of the Civil War. I am not used to such magnanimity from oligarchs.¡±


    ¡°Well ¨C and keep in mind I¡¯m saying this with all the respect in the galaxy, on account of I¡¯ve got it for you and what you do ¨C it was a private disagreement. I¡¯m not real clear how it¡¯s relevant to you finding whoever it is you¡¯re after.¡±


    Zelph inclined his masked head. ¡°Merely personal curiosity, Captain.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a personal matter,¡± Jack said.


    Chloe only knew the broad outlines herself. If her parents didn¡¯t like to talk about the Civil War, they liked to talk about how they left it behind even less. The Oligarchy had considered hybrids like Ellie property. Jack¡¯s old boss did something that put that belief front and center. Considering how protective Jack was of Ellie and how their crew had been almost all hybrids in Chloe¡¯s youth, she imagined his ¡®resignation¡¯ had looked one step removed from armed rebellion.


    Still, she didn¡¯t understand why an Animus Hunter would care. They pursued renegade nobles, not hybrids. Even if Zelph considered what Jack had done treason against the Federated Stars, it wasn¡¯t his remit to pursue traitors.


    By the same token, though, why did Jack refuse to answer? Chloe supposed the circumstances of his resignation might be controversial, but hiding them from the Animus Hunter seemed more likely to make him suspicious.


    Suspicious or not, Zelph let it drop. ¡°Then it can remain private, as well.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Jack exhaled. ¡°What can the Mother Goose do for you, Animus Hunter Zelph?¡±


    ¡°I am pursuing a fugitive,¡± Zelph said.


    ¡°This poor bastard got a name? Better yet, a face? If any of us have seen him, you can bet we¡¯ll do whatever we can ¨C¡±


    ¡°She,¡± Zelph said.


    Chloe closed her eyes.


    ¡°A lady rather than a lord, huh? All of ¡®em were in it together, so it¡¯s all the same to me. Can¡¯t imagine we¡¯ve met someone like that, but, hey, stranger things, you know?¡±


    ¡°Captain Hughes.¡± Zelph¡¯s voice rose in volume, though it didn¡¯t change in tone.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°That will do.¡±


    Jack stopped talking.


    ¡°Better.¡± Zelph drifted toward the Mother Goose. Chloe saw no thrusters flare or limbs move, so she assumed he moved his huge mecha by telekinesis alone. ¡°As for ¡®doing whatever you can,¡¯ I want you to assemble your crew in your ship¡¯s mecha bay.¡±


    Jack sighed. ¡°You heard the man, Ellie?¡±


    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll be right down.¡± Ellie¡¯s ears perked up, belying her tight smile.


    Of course. Chloe knew her parents would talk to Zelph alone if they could. Ellie¡¯s place in the social order of the Federated Stars might be uncertain, but it didn¡¯t justify an Animus Hunter¡¯s attentions.


    Chloe smiled back and took a step toward the pilot¡¯s chair as Ellie vacated it.


    Her smile vanished when Zelph¡¯s voice broke the silence. ¡°All of your crew, if you please, Captain.¡±


    Jack frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Your ship¡¯s manifest indicates a crew of three. When I arrived, two of your mecha left that station. I trust you would neither lie on your manifest nor be so reckless as to trust your transport to autopilot so near a derelict.¡±


    If Zelph thought he was going to catch Jack Hughes in a bluff, prophecy obviously wasn¡¯t one of his psychic gifts.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Jack said. ¡°Chloe is on the bridge, too. Ellie¡¯ll bring her along.¡±


    Chloe couldn¡¯t, quite, recover her smile. Not when she had a face-to-face, or at least face-to-mask, meeting with the Animus Hunter waiting for her. She had to admire how smoothly her dad bluffed, though.


    She could only guess at Zelph¡¯s reaction, because he severed the connection.


    Chloe stared at the screen where his image had been. The nearly identical figure of his mecha loomed larger as it approached the Mother Goose.


    Ellie¡¯s arms encircled her. ¡°It will be okay, Chloe.¡±


    Chloe turned and hugged her back. ¡°I know, Mom. You and Dad wouldn¡¯t let something happen to me.¡±


    It felt better to pretend they could prevent it.


    Chloe would have stayed in the false security of her mother¡¯s arms forever, but, haltingly, Ellie pulled back. ¡°We¡¯d better not make the Animus Hunter wait.¡±


    Chloe nodded and followed Ellie to the mecha bay. This time, they had to wait in the inner airlock. The bay doors must have already opened to admit Gosling One and the Animus Hunter¡¯s mecha.


    Chloe and Ellie¡¯s flight suits rippled over their heads to shield them from vacuum. Like their mecha, the suits responded to thought, conscious or otherwise. If only they¡¯d offered as much protection ¨C not, Chloe supposed, that a mecha¡¯s armor could stand up to an Animus Hunter.


    She feared Jack might put it to the test. He¡¯d returned Gosling One to its berth and popped its cockpit, but stayed atop its access ladder.


    The Animus Hunter¡¯s mecha couldn¡¯t fit in one of the berths. It hunched in front of the bay doors, a slumbering giant. Up close, Chloe could at least see mechanical joints and clusters of synthetic polymer muscle through the gaps in its armor. Its open cockpit, situated beneath the weird beaked mask, flickered with displays much like those on Gosling Two. For all it seemed to fill the bay with darkness, it was just a mecha, not a monster.


    She reserved judgment about its pilot.


    He descended through the air, arms folded. Like his mask, his flight suit seemed patterned on his mecha, or perhaps the other way around, and didn¡¯t maneuver with thrusters. Pure telekinesis, the kind only an Animus Hunter dared to use in the Federated Stars.


    Air flooded back into the mecha bay. Chloe, Jack and Ellie swayed with it, in tune with the rhythm of their ship¡¯s systems. Zelph seemed not to feel it. When the rush of air stopped, he touched down on the bay floor and strode forward.


    Ellie slid between him and Chloe. She inclined her head and said, ¡°Welcome to the Mother Goose, sir.¡± like he came as an honored guest.


    ¡°You¡¯re Ellie Hughes?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    Zelph stepped forward. He stood a head and a half taller than Ellie and looked right over her. ¡°Which makes this young woman your daughter, and the final member of your crew.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Ellie said. ¡°Chloe.¡±


    Chloe gave a little wave. She couldn¡¯t find her voice.


    ¡°You¡¯re very fortunate,¡± Zelph said. He waved toward Ellie¡¯s ears. ¡°I¡¯m told genetic compatibility between humans and hybrids is a rare gift.¡±


    ¡°People are told a lot of things about hybrids.¡± Ellie¡¯s voice sounded ragged, as angry as scared.


    Jack¡¯s boots clanged on the mecha bay floor. He¡¯d abandoned Gosling One and strode to stand behind Zelph. ¡°We¡¯re lucky, like you said, Animus Hunter. What¡¯s any of that got to do with why you¡¯re here?¡±


    Zelph continued as if neither of Chloe¡¯s parents had spoken. ¡°And you look so young, for people with an adult daughter. The Spacer life is apparently quite healthful.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m adopted,¡± Chloe said.


    Jack and Ellie both turned to her. Their flight suits spared her a clear view of their expressions, not that she needed to see them to know how horrified they¡¯d look. They would keep bluffing to protect her for as long as Zelph let them. When he stopped letting them, they¡¯d fight to protect her.


    When he stopped letting them, they¡¯d die to protect her.


    ¡°I was orphaned during the war,¡± Chloe said. She stepped around Ellie and faced Zelph. ¡°My parents took me in and raised me.¡±


    ¡°How generous of them,¡± Zelph said.


    The hint of sarcasm in his voice infuriated Chloe almost enough to make her forget how afraid of him she was. ¡°They¡¯re good people. They haven¡¯t done anything wrong!¡±


    ¡°Have you?¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯ve done nothing wrong, then, by law, I cannot touch any of you.¡± Zelph reached out and cupped Chloe¡¯s chin.


    Some system in his flight suit overrode hers. The suit flowed away from her face without her willing it to. She squeezed her eyes shut and thanked the Almighty Principle she wore her hair bottle-blonde and straightened.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Jack reached for Zelph¡¯s arm.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Dad,¡± Chloe whispered. From the way her voice trembled, she didn¡¯t think she sounded all that persuasive.


    Zelph didn¡¯t seem to care. He didn¡¯t seem to notice Jack and Ellie at all. ¡°You protest your innocence, Miss Hughes. Yet you¡¯re afraid of me.¡±


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m afraid of you!¡± Chloe balled her fists. ¡°You throw around powers we couldn¡¯t possibly resist, you barge onto our ship without even accusing us of anything. You even wear that creepy mask. You expect me to believe you don¡¯t want to be feared?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Zelph said. ¡°I do. Do you know why?¡±


    Chloe shook her head as much as his grip allowed.


    ¡°For centuries, the aristocracy used not power, but the fear of power to enslave human space,¡± Zelph said.


    ¡°So you think you need to use it, too?¡±


    ¡°Need?¡± Zelph chuckled. ¡°No, Miss Hughes. I do not want the people who oppressed the galaxy to fear me because it is necessary. I want them to fear me because it is deserved. What they inflicted on others must now be visited upon them.¡±


    ¡°If only the deserving should fear you, then we have nothing to be afraid of.¡± Chloe opened her eyes. She heard the intake of breath from her parents, but her gaze locked on Zelph¡¯s mask.


    Chloe¡¯s eyes were as dark as blue got before turning black, the color of the stratosphere on a habitable world. Like her natural hair, dark and curly, her eyes were a symbol of the old aristocracy. Lots of people who weren¡¯t aristocrats had them, and not every aristocrat did. All the same, people whispered ¡°mind¡¯s eyes¡± when they saw hers. Animus Hunters sought them.


    This one found a pair.


    She dared him to condemn her for them.


    For a moment that seemed to stretch to an eternity, he said nothing.


    Chloe felt a bead of sweat roll down her forehead, a mote of dust settle into her eye. She refused to blink, even though she knew she couldn¡¯t win a staring contest with a featureless mask.


    She didn¡¯t have to.


    The ivory beak split down the middle and slid to either side. Zelph¡¯s face made Chloe start, not because he was terrifying, but because he wasn¡¯t. He looked like he sounded. A pinch-faced Etemenos bureaucrat, thin-lipped, hollow-cheeked. His only distinguishing features were his eyes. Stratosphere blue, just like Chloe¡¯s. So dark she thought she could see space in them, but no scarier than what she saw in the mirror every day.


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± he said. Coming from his thoroughly ordinary face, spoken in his thoroughly ordinary voice, ominous words almost sounded laughable.


    Maybe they would have been if his fingers hadn¡¯t gripped Chloe¡¯s jaw. She tried to pull away. As well try to escape a mecha¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°You may have nothing to fear from me, Miss Hughes.¡± His hand dropped from Chloe. She stumbled backwards. ¡°All the same, you ¨C all of you ¨C should be afraid.¡±


    He turned his back on her and took a step toward the shadow that was his mecha. His mask slid back into place.


    Chloe swallowed. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because the person I hunt is immeasurably dangerous.¡± Zelph lifted into the air as casually as Chloe might walk across a room. He glanced over his shoulder. Though she couldn¡¯t see his eyes, she felt them on her. ¡°Even to herself.¡±

 Chapter 2: Desperate Times

    Chapter 2: Desperate Times


    Ellie held Chloe as they watched Zelph¡¯s departure. Neither they nor Jack spoke, and their flight suits muffled the evacuating atmosphere and the stirring of the Animus Hunter¡¯s huge mecha, so his words hung in the air. Uncontested.


    Ellie wanted to challenge them.


    She couldn¡¯t.


    She remembered how she and Jack had found Chloe. How she¡¯d picked up the gravitic signature of a Civil War era battlecruiser far from the battlefields of the conflict. How they¡¯d approached the hulk, a metal pyramid as ominous as any tomb. How, against all reason, a distress signal had emerged from one of its cratered and cavernous mecha bays.


    She remembered the mecha they found inside, huge and silver, unnaturally smooth, far more terrible than the Animus Hunter machine that must have been a crude copy or inversion of it.


    She remembered the two figures curled within its cockpit. One had been Chloe, a tiny angel, delivered sleeping into Ellie¡¯s arms. The other, the woman who must have been her mother, with her almost divinely beautiful face and her last smile, who lived just long enough to extract a promise to protect Chloe.


    But Ellie refused to remember Chloe¡¯s mother¡¯s death, or what was left of the body beneath that beautiful face, or anything else she¡¯d seen on that battlecruiser.


    Like the Valuable Confiscated Livestock camp she¡¯d been interred in before Jack rescued her, the battlecruiser had shaped Ellie into the person she was now. She refused to allow the past¡¯s horrors any other hold on her. Life was too good to let memory taint it.


    She couldn¡¯t deny, though, that Animus Hunter Zelph was right. Chloe had grown up a Hughes but she had been born something else, and her birth mother proved that a psychic could do herself at least as much harm as anyone else.


    So Ellie said nothing while Zelph¡¯s mecha shrank from sight, the bay doors closed at last, and air rushed back in. She might have stayed silent, trying not to think about the past, if Chloe hadn¡¯t almost collapsed in her arms.


    In an instant, Jack was beside them. His arms wrapped around them both, holding them close, propping them up.


    ¡°That was damn fine work, ladies,¡± he said. His flight suit peeled back and Ellie willed hers to do the same. ¡°It¡¯s not every day you stand up to an Animus Hunter, eh?¡±


    Chloe shrank deeper into her parents¡¯ arms. Her suit¡¯s hood peeled away and her short hair, dyed the same blonde as Ellie¡¯s, splayed out at all angles.


    ¡°You were so brave when he got in your face, Clo,¡± Jack said. He grinned, but Ellie could hear the almost hysterical relief in his voice. She hoped she noticed only because of felid senses, but knew Chloe would, too. ¡°No need to be scared now that he¡¯s gone. It¡¯s gonna be okay.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Chloe said. Her voice was muffled against Ellie¡¯s shoulder, but Ellie could feel her body shaking.


    Ellie kissed the top of her head. She hadn¡¯t been able to for years when Chloe stood up straight. ¡°Chloe...¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not going to be okay.¡± Chloe looked up. Her eyes wavered with tears, like space at the edge of a compression tunnel.


    Abruptly, she tugged free of her parents¡¯ embrace. She stood with her back to them, facing the bay doors Zelph¡¯s mecha had knelt in front of.


    ¡°Of course it will, honey,¡± Ellie said.


    ¡°How?¡± Chloe¡¯s voice sounded very small.


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    ¡°Because we¡¯ll keep you safe.¡± Ellie touched her daughter¡¯s arm.


    ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t count us out just yet,¡± Jack said.


    Ellie felt her daughter¡¯s muscles tense.


    Chloe drew in a deep breath. Her hand settled over Ellie¡¯s, and she turned to offer a shaky smile. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    Her voice shook. She smelled of cold sweat and her hands trembled, but her smile grew stronger and she met Ellie¡¯s eyes and Jack¡¯s in turn.


    Ellie¡¯s ears flattened. She already knew what Chloe was about to say:


    ¡°I have to leave the Mother Goose.¡±


    Jack stepped forward. ¡°What!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve both done so much for me,¡± Chloe said. ¡°If I stay, sooner or later, that Animus Hunter or someone like him is going to find me. When he does, you¡¯ll try to stop him. When you fail, you¡¯ll get hurt. I won¡¯t let you get hurt. Not because of me.¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about failing?¡± Jack asked.


    ¡°An Animus Hunter, Dad! You can¡¯t handle someone like that. What¡¯re you going to do, climb in Gosling One and use the welding torch on his mecha?¡± Chloe shook her head. She ended looking plaintively at Ellie.


    Ellie wanted to assure her Jack would do exactly that, and that he¡¯d win.


    She knew only one of those was true, the same as her daughter.


    ¡°There¡¯s always running away, Clo,¡± Jack said. ¡°We¡¯ve kept you safe this long. Just ¡®cause some hot shot Animus Hunter''s sniffing around in the right star system doesn¡¯t mean we don¡¯t have what it takes.¡±


    ¡°You kept me safe while the Federal Senate consolidated its power over what used to be the Empire. It¡¯s just like salvage, Dad. The further we get from the war, the fewer cracks for people like us to slip through.¡± Chloe took Ellie¡¯s hand in one of hers and reached the other out to Jack. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, he took it.


    ¡°If you try to hide,¡± Chloe said, ¡°you won¡¯t be able to take jobs in the big star systems. We¡¯ve got enough problems just surviving, getting fuel, paying off the Goose. If you won¡¯t take jobs because you¡¯re worried about me getting caught, you could lose everything.¡±


    What would everything mean? Their mecha. Their ship. Their Spacer way of life, the only truly happy one Ellie had known. For her, it might mean her freedom. She¡¯d married Jack under the transitional laws between the Empire and the Federated Stars, but she didn¡¯t doubt that a debt collector would regard her as her husband¡¯s property, not his partner. And the law? She refused to remember the VCL camp; that she had to refuse told her everything about the law¡¯s view of her.


    She would not tell Chloe that, though.


    ¡°If you think,¡± Ellie said, ¡°this ship is more important than you to your father and I ¨C¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± Chloe¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not a good enough person to care about just anybody. It¡¯s because you care, because you¡¯ve done so much for me, that I can¡¯t let you get hurt.¡±


    There was an alternative, Ellie knew. A place they could be safe, at least from Animus Hunters. The Astroykos Emperor died and the mechaneer-aristocracy lost their planetary seats to the Federated Stars, but there were other planets. Distant estate-worlds on the Periphery, where, at least according to rumor, they held court over the few followers they had left.


    Jack wouldn¡¯t want to go there. In truth, Ellie didn¡¯t, either. If the nobles she remembered from childhood recognized Chloe as one of their own, they wouldn¡¯t let her stay with her adoptive parents, any more than an Animus Hunter would.


    If it came down to them or Zelph, though, Ellie had to believe in the nobles. Jack would need persuading. Maybe arguing. Later, when Chloe was calmer or when she wasn¡¯t listening, Ellie and Jack could have that argument.


    For now, they needed to keep Chloe on the Mother Goose. Keep her safe.


    Ellie forced a smile easily. She had to consciously mimic baseline human expressions to begin with. The perk of her ears and the unwrinkling of her nose, those took effort. She made it, and was rewarded with a brief smile from her daughter.


    ¡°We¡¯ve still got a few tricks up our sleeves, Chloe,¡± Ellie said.


    ¡°And I¡¯ve got a hunch,¡± Chloe said, so quietly even Ellie had to cock her ear to hear.


    Jack either heard, too, or knew what Chloe had intended to say. He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you¡¯ve got a signed, sealed and certified prophecy from St. Sophie Astroykos herself, you¡¯re not leaving this ship. That goes double for when you¡¯re in trouble.¡±


    Chloe opened her mouth, but didn¡¯t speak.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna stay right here,¡± Jack said, ¡°and your mom and I are gonna take care of you, and nobody¡¯s gonna get hurt except whoever thinks they can come around and take you away. You got that, Chloe?¡±


    She said, ¡°Yes, Dad.¡±

 Chapter 3: Rudy

    Chapter 3: Rudy


    Chloe surveyed the landing bay.  Her father stomped past in Gosling One, unloading the crates she''d filled, but she didn¡¯t see her mother.


    All she saw was the underbelly of the Mother Goose, fifty meters of once-gleaming composite, worn and battered with two decades of dust and heavy use.  She recognized a long dark stretch where a pirate mecha¡¯s laser had scoured the hull two years before.  Further on, the indentation where a hulk¡¯s engines had flared to life during a salvage, ramming it into the Goose.  Near the tip, numberless pockmarks from such asteroids and space junk as punched through the ship''s gravitic shields.


    Chloe remembered every single one ¨C at least of those scoured in the surface since she¡¯d joined the ship.


    She realized she was crying.


    Stupid, she thought.  It¡¯s just a machine.


    Trust your machines, trust your family, trust yourself.  Chloe had grown up with those principles drummed into her head.  She did her best to live by them.


    If she trusted herself now, though, she''d leave machines and family behind.  If she didn''t, she would lose both.


    And if her mother found her like this¡­


    ¡°Chloe?¡±


    She froze.


    ¡°Hi, Mom,¡± she said, trying, and failing to keep her voice even.


    Ellie had emerged from behind the ramp while Chloe¡¯s eyes searched the ship.  She had to have seen the tears.


    All she said was, ¡°Are you going out, dear?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± said Chloe.  Get control of yourself, she thought.  She had to act casual, just like her parents when they ran a bluff.  She¡¯d seen them in action often enough.  When she spoke again, her voice sounded strong and clear.  ¡°I wanted to get a look around the port village.  Maybe I¡¯ll find a shop we can sell that haul to.¡±


    ¡°I hope you do,¡± Ellie said.


    Chloe was as used to reading hybrid expressions as human, but she couldn¡¯t begin to guess what thoughts ran through her mother¡¯s mind.  Did Ellie know?  She had to.  Chloe was doing a bang-up job of hiding her feelings now, or so she hoped, but she hadn¡¯t even been concentrating.  Or was the light under the Goose so bad even felid eyes couldn¡¯t see the tears that had been rolling down her face?


    She knew better.


    Silently, she padded down the ramp and embraced her mother.  ¡°I¡¯m coming back, Mom,¡± she said.


    ¡°And when you do,¡± Ellie said, ¡°you''ll stay.¡±


    Chloe didn''t answer.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to leave,¡± Ellie said.  ¡°After Wellach, we¡¯re going to the Periphery.¡±


    Chloe¡¯s eyes widened.  Visions of space station ballrooms filled with elegant noblewomen and even more elegant noblemen danced before her.  Then she cocked her head.  ¡°Dad agreed to go?¡±


    ¡°Not in so many words.¡±


    Which, Chloe knew, meant he would agree¡­ he just didn¡¯t know it yet.


    At least, her mother thought so.


    Chloe said, ¡°I still want to look around town.  If nothing else, maybe I can find a good shop, right?¡±


    ¡°I hope so.  Evidence indicates you¡¯ve got better eyes than most for that sort of thing.¡±


    Chloe managed a wan smile.  Eyes had nothing to do with it.


    Still, she felt almost cheerful as she drifted from the hangar.  The Periphery was a legend to Chloe, as to most people, but unlike most people it was a legend she looked forward to visiting.  Somewhere out there, she supposed, she had living relatives.  Even if she didn¡¯t, they¡¯d only have to take a sample of her genetic code and she¡¯d be admitted to the houses of the mighty, or once-mighty.  Most people figured the last of the old aristocracy wiled away their days in planet-sized estates.  Dancing ¨C romance ¨C leisure ¨C


    Chloe shook her head.  Look at yourself, you little hypocrite, she thought.  You¡¯ve won''t even call the people who gave you life ¡°parents,¡± but give you a shot at living like a queen and suddenly you¡¯re all for laying course for the Periphery.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a silly dream is all,¡± she muttered.


    Silly, above all, because whatever Ellie might believe, Chloe didn¡¯t think even her mother could persuade her father to lay course for the Periphery.


    Chloe shook her head as she walked from the hangar complex and into a street considerably busier than she¡¯d expected.  She eventually followed the placidly trundling people-movers to a pair of huge, tubular gravlev lines to Wellach City, the planetary capital.  People in a mix of festively colored groundling clothes and nanomachine-laced flight suits like Chloe¡¯s packed both lines.  The groundling clothes struck Chloe as vaguely scandalous ¨C short shorts or skirts, loose tops.  Wellach was muggy and hot, so she supposed she couldn''t blame them.  Shouldn''t, anyway.


    At the moment, she didn¡¯t care to wait for another gravlev train.  She walked as much to clear her head as to get where she wanted to go.  Besides, even a spaceport village might have a memorabilia shop.


    She turned on her heel.  Mechaneer¡¯s instincts compelled her to duck back before she slammed into the massive figure behind her.


    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, girl,¡± he snarled.  At first, Chloe took him for an ursid, but he lacked the shaggy, somewhat elongated face and thin fur of that hybrid breed.  He glowered down on her with purely human eyes set into a broad, flat face.


    Chloe glowered right back. After facing down an Animus Hunter, this guy didn''t rate. ¡°When a cruiser bowls into a transport,¡± she said, ¡°who¡¯s not paying enough attention?¡±


    The guy narrowed his eyes.  ¡°You smarting off to me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not giving you the time of day, if that¡¯s what you thought.¡±  She sidestepped him.


    He stepped right with her, graceful despite his bulk.  He moved like a mechaneer.  Like a mechaneer who wasn¡¯t afraid, or unwilling, to hit his ¡®salvage¡¯ until it stopped moving.


    It occurred to her that a pirate might be a lot less dangerous than an Animus Hunter, but, by definition, he didn''t pay even lip service to the law.


    Chloe Rina Hughes, she thought, you really are an idiot.


    Surely the guy wouldn''t hurt her in the middle of a crowded plaza.  A tourist planet had to enforce the Feds¡¯ laws and have plenty of its own if it wanted to get people to visit, right?


    Her father had taught her the best defense was a good offense.  From the way he carried himself around bullies and thugs, she¡¯d often taken that to mean giving offense.


    She wasn¡¯t half the talker Jack Hughes was.


    She sure wasn¡¯t close to half the brawler.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    For all he was a world-class fast-talker, about a third of the time her father smarted off to somebody tougher- or meaner-looking, he ended up proving the other guy wasn¡¯t either of those, fist first, on foot or in mecha.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like little girls who give me lip,¡± the guy looming over her said.  ¡°Apologize.¡±


    Never back down, Jack Hughes taught.


    Never let them see you sweat.


    If all else fails, pray.


    Merciful Principle, Chloe thought, grant a pacific pattern to my days.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a little girl,¡± she snapped.  ¡°And even if I were, I¡¯m not going to apologize to somebody who goes around threatening those who are!¡±


    His lip curled.


    But he scowled and brushed past her without swinging one of his ham-sized fists.  He didn¡¯t exactly vanish into the crowd around the gravlev, but with the way he shoved through, he made good time toward the platform.


    Once he was out of earshot, Chloe released the breath she¡¯d been holding.


    She glanced at a trio of kids, two girls in yellow sundresses and a boy in similarly colored shorts.  They stared at her with something between awe and horror.


    Chloe cocked her head.  ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    One of the girls shot a glance in the direction of the gravlev lines, then skipped over to Chloe. ¡°Are you a mechaneer, Miss?¡±


    ¡°Me?¡±  Chloe laughed.  ¡°No, little girl, I¡¯m ¨C¡±


    She grinned.  She knelt beside them and, whispering conspiratorially, added, ¡°¨C I¡¯m not just any mechaneer, I¡¯m the Invincible Titanian Battle Princess!¡±


    The girl¡¯s mouth opened in a perfect ¡®o,¡¯ her eyes almost as wide.  Her friends joined her, forming a ring around Chloe.  The first girl, who seemed to be the leader of her little band, said, ¡°Are you here for the tournament, Titan¡¯n¡­ Ti¡­ Your Highness?  Are you gonna beat up Rocket God Gil?¡±


    ¡°Tournament?  Rocket God Gil?¡±  Chloe forced herself to shrug.  She¡¯d heard of Gil Bartlet, of course.  He was a big fish in the comparatively small pond that was the Mother Goose¡¯s usual run of star systems, a tournament mechaneer and some-time salvager ¨C and some-time pirate, depending on who you asked.  Her parents didn¡¯t seem to care for the man, so Chloe adopted a similar attitude.


    She tossed her hair.  ¡°They¡¯re hardly worth my time.¡±


    The trio answered with a chorus of giggles.


    Chloe ruffled their hair again and got to her feet.  She thought about sending them off with something pithy, but nothing leaped to mind.  She waved, and they darted into the crowd.


    Invincible Titanian Battle Princess, huh?  Chloe chuckled.  Too bad she wasn¡¯t really.  Somebody like that would have no problems with a debt collector.  Or an Animus Hunter, for that matter.


    Neither scared her at the moment.  Invincibility on the mind, she strolled back to the port village feeling better than she had in months.  She didn¡¯t even mind when another guy brushed past her, close enough to make her almost lose her footing.


    He said, ¡°You should be more observant, Your Highness.¡±


    Chloe¡¯s eyes widened.  She spun around.


    He looked nothing like the last jerk.  A head shorter and probably only half the weight, he nonetheless sported lean muscles beneath a garish crimson flight suit.  His spiky hair was almost as red as his suit, setting off the olive skin of his slim face.


    Aside from the flight suit, he wore only a cocky grin.  He said, ¡°I figured an ¡®Invincible Battle Princess¡¯ would have better reflexes.¡±


    ¡°You heard that, huh?¡±


    He nodded.  ¡°When you told off that ass Gil, I thought maybe you were for real.¡±


    ¡°Gil?¡±


    The redhead tossed a thumb toward the gravlev station.  ¡°Rocket God Gilbert Bartlet.  Big guy, bad attitude, five Wellach Cups in six years?  You did know that¡¯s who you were pissing off back there, right?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±  Chloe tried to hold her smile.  Never let them see you sweat.  ¡°Well.  Sure.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡±


    ¡°You think so?¡±  Chloe turned her nose up at him.  ¡°I guess you¡¯ll just have to wait and see.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already seen.  You failed the test.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    The redhead''s electric blue eyes twinkled with mischief.  He pulled his left hand from behind his back and held up a wad of bills ¨C mostly small change, Federal hectomarks.


    At first, Chloe didn¡¯t understand.  Then, her eyes widened and her hand flew to the pocket at the back of her flight suit.  Its seal peeled open when the heat of her fingers passed over it, but when she felt inside, she didn¡¯t feel her cash.


    The redhead tossed it to her.


    For a wonder, she managed to get her hand out to grab the wad of bills before it hit the wet ground.


    ¡°You move like a mechaneer,¡± he said, ¡°but your situational awareness is crap.  If you¡¯re here for the tournament, you better back out before you get hurt.¡±


    Chloe¡¯s shoulders slumped.  So much for running a bluff.  ¡°I¡¯m not really a mechaneer.  Not a combat mechaneer, I mean.  I just wanted to give those kids something to smile about.¡±


    ¡°And Gil?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t recognize him,¡± Chloe said with a sigh.  ¡°Thanks for giving my money back, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Keep it in your breast pocket when you¡¯re on a tourist world.  Otherwise you¡¯re just asking somebody to rob you.¡±  He patted the line marking his.  He shot her a glance out of the corner of his  eye.  ¡°Unless you¡¯re so clueless you can¡¯t see someone grab you right in front of your face.¡±


    She fought back a blush and ignored his answering chuckle, turned her back to him and stuffed her marks into the recommended pocket.  Over her shoulder, she called, ¡°Who are you, anyway?¡±


    ¡°The Invincible Titanian Battle Prince, of course.¡±


    She could just imagine the mocking grin.  ¡°Give it a rest, would you?¡±


    ¡°Fine.  Call me Rudy.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s better.¡±  She turned back to him and shook his offered hand.  ¡°I¡¯m Chloe.  Guess I should thank you for the tip, huh?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s twice you¡¯ve thanked me.  Do I look like a nob to you?¡±


    She cocked her head.


    ¡°This is the Federated Stars, Ms. Chloe.  We expect to be paid for services rendered.¡±


    Chloe yanked her hand back and stepped away from him.  ¡°You want me to pay you for advice I didn¡¯t ask for?  Or is this some kind of protection racket?  I may not be a combat.mechaneer, but I''m not such a pushover as to go quietly ¨C and my father is, and a Civil War vet.¡±


    Rudy spread his red-gloved palms.  ¡°Take it easy.  I¡¯m not asking for marks.  If I¡¯d wanted that, I could have kept your cash.  Money doesn''t have to change hands for us to have equivalence, though.  I do you a favor, you do me a favor.  Everybody wins.¡±


    Chloe took another step back.  She didn¡¯t feel nervous around Rudy, but her hunches came and went.  She thought about contacting the Mother Goose.  Not yet, though.  She didn''t want to worry her parents if she didn''t have to.  Principle knew they were worried enough already!  ¡°What kind of favor?¡±


    ¡°Judging from the way you tensed up, I get the impression you¡¯re not interested in the personal kind,¡± he said, winking.  ¡°Fortunately, I don¡¯t go for the leggy noble type.¡±


    ¡°N-noble?¡±  Chloe¡¯s free hand brushed at the base of her bleached blonde hair.  Had she missed a spot?  ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    He raised an eyebrow.  ¡°I was kidding, actually, but now that you mention it, you''ve got a nice pair of stratosphere blues there.¡±


    Chloe fought the urge to close her offending eyes.  Principle, what was wrong with her?  If she''d played it cool, he never would have known his joke was anything but.  Dark blue eyes, like the dark curls she kept fastidiously dyed, might be associated with the mechaneer-aristocracy, but they weren''t exactly impossible outside it, either.


    She wondered how big of a mess she''d made by all but admitting her heritage to Rudy.


    She figured she could run if she had to.  Might buy her parents a few more seconds to respond to her call for help, assuming she couldn¡¯t outrun him.  She doubted she could.  He looked fast, with an athlete¡¯s build and confidence.


    ¡°If you don''t want people to think you''re a nob, Ms. Chloe,¡± he said, ¡°maybe you should wear tinted contacts, too.¡±


    ¡°What do you care,¡± Chloe snapped.  ¡°Racking up more debt?¡±


    ¡°You bet.  And I don¡¯t intend to let you get yourself killed until you¡¯ve paid me back.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to pay you with.¡±


    ¡°No?  You¡¯ve got information, don¡¯t you?  How about telling me what you¡¯re doing here on the wrong side of Etemenos?  If you''re concerned about hiding that you''re a nob, I figure you must be off your Limiters.  Aren¡¯t you worried about Animus Hunters catching your noble self?¡±


    ¡°Stop calling me a noble,¡± Chloe said.  ¡°I¡¯m in enough trouble as it is.¡±


    In trouble with everyone if they find out I spent the whole time talking to you, she thought.  Even leaving aside this business of being pegged for a noble, she shouldn''t do such a thing.  Spacer families frowned on their children spending too much unchaperoned time with apparently eligible groundlings.  Especially groundlings who winked and joked and implied things that just weren''t polite in mixed company.  Even if Rudy said she wasn¡¯t his type.


    She wondered what he really wanted.


    She wondered if he would sell her out.


    She wondered how one even went about selling a noble out to the Animus Hunters.  It wasn¡¯t like they posted their communications frequencies.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a point about calling you out,¡± he said.  ¡°There¡¯s no reason to draw attention to you.  Hell, I don¡¯t think the Animus Hunters will even cover your debts if they catch you.  They¡¯re¡­ touchy that way.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve met an Animus Hunter?¡±


    A shadow crossed his face.  For a minute, he seemed to look straight through her.


    Then, his eyes widened.


    A shadow crossed Chloe¡¯s face, too, and the rest of her as well.  She looked up, expecting to see a cloud drifting by.  Sure enough, something above and behind her had blocked out the afternoon sun.


    But hadn¡¯t her father said he¡¯d seen clear skies for a hundred kilometers?


    She turned.


    Her eyes got even wider than Rudy¡¯s.

 Chapter 4: Representative

    Chapter 4: Representative


    Rudy watched the Representative-class destroyer¡¯s shadow pass over Chloe, then him, then the entire alley in which they stood.


    More than a kilometer of gleaming, perfectly polished composite plating and humming gravitic engines hung overhead, almost unimaginably huge in atmosphere.  Some of its engines would be extras, replacing its usual load of ship to ship weapons so it could operate within a planet¡¯s gravity well.  Air whistled around its surface, forming strange eddies in the unnaturally curved space.


    ¡°What¡¯s it doing here?¡± Chloe whispered.


    ¡°Apparently, somebody important decided to visit this rube planet,¡± Rudy said.  ¡°They¡¯re probably here for the tournament.¡±


    He tried to keep his voice casual.  He wasn¡¯t sure if he succeeded.  Chloe acted like she hadn¡¯t even heard him speak.


    Some Invincible Battle Princess, he thought.


    He almost managed a grin.


    Almost.


    It wasn¡¯t that he thought the destroyer hovering over the port village threatened him.  He just didn¡¯t care for the symbols of the Federal Senate¡¯s armed forces.


    Too many bad memories.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we step into a shop and wait out the storm?¡±  He laid a hand on Chloe¡¯s arm and guided her toward a door, gently enough she wouldn''t panic and start beaming her location to anyone who wanted to listen, firmly enough she didn''t stay in plain sight of anyone who wanted to look.


    She paid his touch no more mind than she had his voice.  She kept staring at the destroyer.


    Rudy figured being spotted with a possible noblewoman, however little she acted the part, could prove less than healthy under the circumstances.


    He could have left her.


    But where was the fun in that?


    ¡°Come on, Chloe,¡± he hissed.  His fingers tightened.  Beneath her flight suit, her slender arm felt more muscular than he¡¯d expected.  ¡®Not a combat mechaneer,¡¯ she¡¯d said.  What kind was she?  A cargo hauler?  She didn¡¯t look that part any more than she acted the nob.  She was obviously some kind of spacer; he knew that prim and proper act all too well.


    When he pulled her into a doorway, she finally reacted.  Her reaction didn¡¯t exactly make things simpler.


    He grunted as her elbows dug into his kidneys.  His hand spasmed.


    Chloe sprang from his grasp.


    ¡°I was trying to help,¡± Rudy said through clenched teeth.  Girl packed quite a punch.  He jerked a thumb at the destroyer descending on the port town.  ¡°Get you out of its sight.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your help.¡±  Chloe straightened up, tested her ankle and nodded, apparently to herself.  The mask of her flight suit rolled up to cover her face.  ¡°I¡¯ve got to warn Mom and Dad!¡±


    ¡°If they don¡¯t know already, they¡¯ve got to be blind and deaf,¡± Rudy said.  ¡°And if you send a message to your parents, the Feds could pick up on it.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    She hesitated.


    She set her jaw.


    She rolled the mask back.


    She said, ¡°I¡¯ve still got to get to them and make sure they¡¯re okay.¡±


    She sprinted toward the hangars, following the destroyer¡¯s shadow.


    Rudy bit back a sigh.  Women.


    Still, he had to wonder what kind of woman had to dye her hair to hide the black curls most people associated with the old nobility, but went running to the help of a ship in the civilian hangars on a tourist planet halfway across the galaxy from the nearest enclave of the old feudal order.


    Curiosity killed the cat, he thought, but I¡¯m no felid.


    Besides, he¡¯d could just imagine the look on the face of the Fed bureaucrat-soldier who tried to arrest him for his interference.


    He ran after her.


    The people in the port village thronged the streets to see the destroyer, but Rudy easily danced between confused civilians.  Since he didn¡¯t gain any ground on Chloe, he assumed she managed the same.


    He almost lost ground, almost lost her, when a familiar small transport roared overhead.  Rudy didn''t have to see its markings to know he knew the sleek little ship, a converted luxury twenty-seater shuttle with a magnetic clasp to hold a mecha.


    He wondered, what¡¯s he doing out here?


    Rudy supposed he should¡¯ve played his subliminal briefing on the way to Wellach instead of scrapping it like he usually did.  Too bad.  Damn things gave him a headache.


    He kept running.


    Chloe''s stride was at least as long as his, but he knew how to run.  With the crowd too busy gawking at the destroyer to even get in the way, he put on an extra burst of speed.


    He caught up with Chloe just in time to clap a hand over her open mouth and pull her back from the doors of the hangar over which the destroyer hung.  Grappling lines stretched from an open bay on its bottom face, illuminated from within in contrast to the complete shadow of its exterior.  Boxy Fed line mecha emerged from the bay and slid down the lines, their maneuvering thrusters firing to slow their descent.


    Rudy couldn¡¯t see where they were going.  He didn¡¯t hear any fighting, though.


    Chloe struggled in his grip, but this time he didn¡¯t allow her the leverage to land a blow.


    Abruptly, she went limp.  A muffled cry escaped his hand.


    Rudy looked back to the destroyer.


    A transport ship hung from its lines.  From the long, neck-like foredeck, he figured it for the Balder class.  The military mecha boosted off it and back to their mother ship, half-flying, half-climbing in the unfamiliar one gee.  Slowly, inexorably, the transport rose toward the yawning hangar.  It fit easily, outlined for just a second by the lit interior.  Then it, and the light, vanished.


    The destroyer hovered for what felt like a long time to Rudy.  He wondered if its external cameras had somehow identified Chloe despite the deep shadows it cast.


    Then it rose into a crisp turn and blasted skyward.


    When the dust settled, Rudy found his arms empty.  He looked down.


    Chloe knelt in the doorway, eyes raised to the empty sky.  He couldn¡¯t see her face, but he could see her shoulders heave with sobs.


    He started to reach out, to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.


    His hand halted in mid-air.


    He scowled.


    Saving a stranger¡¯s life was one thing.  Showing sympathy, showing weakness?  Not his style.


    Chloe sobbed something, so quietly even Rudy¡¯s ears couldn¡¯t pick it up.


    She rose.


    She turned.


    Tears streaked her face, her clenched fists shook, and her lips trembled.  Nonetheless, she managed to look at least as determined as miserable.


    Rudy fought the urge to nod his appreciation.


    Instead, he jerked a thumb after the rapidly retreating destroyer. ¡°That was your ship the Feds took, huh?¡±


    She nodded.  ¡°My parents¡¯ ship.¡±


    ¡°They were on it?¡±


    She nodded again.


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Wanna get it back?¡±

 Chapter 5: A Deal

    Chapter 5: A Deal


    Until the day she did it, Chloe never would¡¯ve dreamed of letting a man she¡¯d just met take her to his hotel suite.


    Of course, until that day, she never would¡¯ve dreamed of seeing her parents and the Mother Goose lifted into the sky by a Federal destroyer, stranding her on a tourist world, penniless and without the first idea of how to survive ¨C much less how to rescue her family.


    She¡¯d allowed Rudy to lead her through the still-filling streets and alleys of the port village, to buy tickets for the gravlev train, to load her into a seat like a piece of human luggage.  She¡¯d felt reactive gel conform to her slumping frame and try to make her comfortable, and felt it fail.  She¡¯d stared out the window at the endless kilometers of glistening blue ocean and gleaming metallic highway tubes and seen none of it.  She¡¯d left the gravlev holding Rudy¡¯s hand and let him lead her through a series of almost a half dozen transfers, eventually ending outside a massive building of conch-shaped metal and mirrored windows.  She¡¯d been so indifferent, she didn¡¯t even offer a squeak of protest when the elevator they boarded within took them beneath the waves instead of up.


    ¡°Nice place, eh,¡± Rudy called.  He¡¯d vanished into the rear of the suite.


    Chloe blinked.  For the first time, she mustered the energy to pay attention to her surroundings.


    They were, as promised, nice.  Cream colored walls curved from a thick dark carpet to meet at the arch-like peak of the ceiling, the painted-on screens of which glowed in a theoretically soothing abstract pattern.  An archway promised a recreation room.  The two interior doors, Chloe figured, closed on a restroom and bedroom.


    The suite¡¯s expanse surprised her.  Despite his garish flight suit, Rudy didn¡¯t strike her as a rich man.  Because of his suit, she wouldn''t have expected such tasteful decor.  She said, ¡°You can afford all this just on tournament winnings?¡±


    He laughed.  ¡°Don¡¯t bet on it.  I¡¯m a test pilot.  The tournament is technically company business ¡®cause I use a prototype.  What you see around you falls under the category of ¡®business expense.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a sweet deal,¡± Chloe said absently, her mind already wandering.


    If only she¡¯d insisted her parents touch down on Prentice Alpha and drop her off!  No one would have bothered them, they could have used the last haul to ameliorate some of their bills ¨C everything would have worked out fine.


    Chloe didn¡¯t know what she would¡¯ve done on Prentice Alpha.


    She didn¡¯t much care.


    Were they treating her parents right?  Were they allowed to stay on the Goose?  Imprisoned?


    Tortured?


    If I turn myself in, Chloe thought, maybe they¡¯ll let Mom and Dad go.


    She spun to the door, commanded her flight suit to bare her hand, and pressed a palm to the lock.


    It didn¡¯t open.


    Of course.  Rudy hadn¡¯t stopped at the front desk to have it attuned to her DNA.  She was locked in.


    He popped his head into the antechamber.  ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going, Invincible Battle Princess?  We just got here.¡±


    ¡°I have to ¨C¡±


    ¡°You have to sit down and grab something to drink,¡± Rudy said.  ¡°Once you¡¯ve got your head screwed on straight, we can talk about how to go forward.¡±


    Chloe hung her head.


    ¡°Drink first, talk second, mope never.  I can¡¯t stand weepy women.¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer.  With no better idea, she shuffled after him.  The recreation room was open to the sky, or rather, the sea.  It stretched above and below, showing off a riot of bright-colored fish and gently rolling blue waves.  Chloe barely registered the view.  She bumped into a couch formed from the same reactive gel as the gravlev seats.  She collapsed into it.  When an alcohol globe pressed against her fingers, she took it and dropped it into her mouth.  Her saliva dissolved the globe and released a rush of cool liquid.


    Her eyes shot open.


    She wasn¡¯t sure whether to gag or pass out.


    Rudy said, ¡°Don¡¯t like the gin, huh?¡±


    ¡°Not straight,¡± she gasped.  In truth, she¡¯d never had it before.  Her parents went in for beer, wine on special occasions, and Chloe had only been allowed to drink at all for a couple of years.  Her tastes ran more toward sodas.


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    Rudy motioned to the table between them.  A depression in the center contained a colorful array of globes.  Spacers still used them to make liquids easier to consume in zero gravity, but they¡¯d become fashionable at least centuries before.  ¡°Pick your poison.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not thirsty,¡± Chloe said.


    He shrugged and grabbed a pair of clear globes, seemingly at random.  He flicked them into his mouth, swished the impromptu cocktail and shrugged.  ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re missing.¡±


    Chloe closed her eyes.  ¡°What are you going to do with me?¡±


    She didn¡¯t sound scared.  She didn¡¯t feel scared.  After the day¡¯s events, she didn¡¯t have it in her to care what Rudy did.


    She figured she probably deserved it.


    ¡°Dunno,¡± he said.  ¡°Nothing unpleasant, though, so lighten up, would you?"


    She forced herself to smile, though she felt no more relief than she had concern.


    ¡°I am going to get paid, mind.  You¡¯re racking up debt like it¡¯s going out of style.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± said Chloe.  So whatever he might have said, he did want a ¨C what had he called it?  A ¡°personal¡± favor.  She''d expected nothing less from a groundling man.


    Spacer upbringing crashed into despondency.  She almost, almost rallied enough to resist.


    Malaise trumped morals.  She slumped forward and buried her face in her hands.


    Rudy said, ¡°You were a salvage mechaneer, right?¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±  She wondered why her previous work mattered to him.  ¡°Y, yeah.¡±


    ¡°Who was your mechanic?¡±


    Chloe¡¯s red-rimmed eyes opened.  ¡°What?¡±


    Rudy remained sprawled on his own couch, safely across the table from her.  ¡°Did you have a dedicated mechanic, or did you work on your own mecha?¡±


    ¡°We couldn¡¯t afford a dedicated mechanic,¡± she said, too confused to even consider lying.  ¡°Mom and Dad and I did the little stuff ourselves.  I mean, sometimes.  I didn¡¯t do it alone, you understand, but I was pretty good at it.  Good enough to keep Gosling Two going, at least.¡±


    He flashed a thumbs-up.  ¡°Great.  I want you to join my pit crew.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to repair a military mecha ¨C a prototype, no less!  Besides, how would I get clearance?  It¡¯s ¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.  I¡¯ll clear everything up tomorrow.  They let test pilots get away with anything.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± Chloe said.  She pushed herself from the couch.  The gel sloshed back into its original, angular shape.  ¡°Back at the hangar, you told me you¡¯d help me find my parents.  That¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m here.  If you¡¯re gonna mess around with some stupid tournament, you can take your so-called help and shoot it out an airlock.¡±


    Rudy cocked his head.  He seemed infuriatingly calm in the face of her tirade.  ¡°So where¡¯re you headed?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± said Chloe.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±  Rudy flicked an alcohol sphere toward her; she caught it instinctively.  ¡°See, the way I figure it, those bureaucrat-soldiers were after you, not your parents ¨C right?¡±


    Chloe nodded.  She could buy somebody coming after her parents, but not with a Federal destroyer.  The only member of her family who warranted such measures was the one with an Animus Hunter on her trail.


    ¡°So what¡¯s the rush?  They won¡¯t leave this planet as long as they think you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°What if they hurt Mom and Dad?¡±


    ¡°Unlikely.  Their best bet is to make an exchange, or claim to set up an exchange and try to capture you.  They could fake your parents¡¯ presence, but why bother when they have the real thing?¡±  Rudy grinned.  ¡°Trust me, that bunch don¡¯t spend a dime more than they have to, and feeding prisoners is a pittance next to faking them.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    ¡°Positive.  I went to six federally-sanctioned mechaneer academies, you know.¡±


    Chloe¡¯s eyes widened.  She¡¯d never heard of anyone going to more than one, especially not someone as young as Rudy appeared.  If he was older than her, it couldn''t be by much.


    ¡°Yep; you¡¯re looking at a pupil of the Etemenos Military Academy, the Imperial Institute for Space Tactics, the Algreil Devil Ray School of Martial Arts, the Federal Officer¡¯s Academy, the Federal Mechaneer Training Station, and the Fort Raypoint Academy.¡±  Though Rudy seemed to beam with pride, a trace of sarcasm glinted in his eyes.


    Chloe wondered if he was lying.  ¡°How did you manage to attend so many?  And why did you go to both officer¡¯s and mechaneer¡¯s academies for the navy?¡±


    Rudy shrugged.  ¡°I attended ¡®em all.  Never said I graduated, now did I?¡±


    That startled a laugh from Chloe.  She immediately stifled it.


    ¡°You look a lot better when you smile,¡± Rudy said.  ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll rethink that ¡®leggy noble¡¯ bit¡­¡±


    Chloe¡¯s face fell.  She looked away.


    She flinched when his hand closed on her shoulder.  She hadn''t even heard him approach.


    He said, ¡°Hey, I was only kidding.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± she whispered.  ¡°But I¡¯ve got no right to be happy.  This is all my fault.  If I¡¯d ¨C¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d done something different, something different would¡¯ve happened.  Maybe your parents walk away home free and nobody ever catches you and we all live happily ever after.  It could happen.¡±


    Chloe nodded miserably.


    ¡°On the other hand, maybe you get caught and whoever catches you decides to just off your parents to cover his tracks.  After all, he won¡¯t need ¡®em as bait since he already has you, and a couple with a kidnapped daughter could raise quite a stink on election day.¡±


    Such a scenario hadn¡¯t occurred to Chloe.  ¡°Who would do something like that?¡±


    ¡°An Animus Hunter, for one.  You think those bastards keep their legendary status by leaving a bunch of loose ends?¡±


    ¡°Guess not.¡±


    ¡°Definitely not,¡± Rudy said.  ¡°Fact is, your best bet is to wait and watch.  Those guys probably expect you to do something dumb ¨C which you would have, if not for my expert advice ¨C so they won¡¯t take a hard line.  While they¡¯re snooping around, we¡¯ll keep our eyes peeled.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t they recognize me, though?¡±


    Rudy clasped both her shoulders and turned her to face him.  His eyes glinted with mischief.  ¡°Not for long.¡±

 Chapter 6: Detainment

    Chapter 6: Detainment


    ¡°I¡¯ve got rights, dammit!  I¡¯m a citizen of the Federated Stars ¨C a Civil War vet!¡±


    A man in a masked, unmarked white flight suit leaned back in the chair ahead of Jack. ¡°On which side?¡±


    His four buddies, all similarly attired, thought that was the funniest thing they¡¯d ever heard.


    Jack gritted his teeth.


    He sat in a plush, comfortable seat that, unlike most of the comfortable seats he¡¯d ever sat in, felt like real leather rather than reactive gel.  A sleek passenger shuttle surrounded him.  Two lines, one blue, one red, streaked the white carpet, repeated on the overhead compartments.


    Jack hadn¡¯t seen Ellie since the attack.  He figured she been placed in the rear section.  Treated like cargo.


    Dammit!


    If Jack had been manacled, he would have tried to strangle one of his captors.  No such luck.  Rather than shackle their captives, the white-suited men had injected them with Limiters.  If Jack tried to take aggressive action, the nanomachines would flood his brain with enough endorphins to leave him in a grinning stupor.


    The Federal Senate had issued a blanket ban on Limiters with more than a 24-hour duration.  Assuming whoever had captured the crew of the Mother Goose played by the rules, Jack would either get out from under their nanomechanical thumb or get another dose.


    He expected the latter.


    Thankfully ¨C or maybe not ¨C the Limiters didn¡¯t stop him from getting angry or complaining.  The more potent varieties he remembered from the Civil War kept a tighter leash.  He said, ¡°Where the hell are you taking us, anyway?¡±


    The guards ignored him.


    Jack sighed.


    He wondered who his captors were.  They didn¡¯t look or act like Feds.  Too well dressed, too well equipped, too well trained.  He¡¯d offered to pay, with interest, the Mother Goose¡¯s monthly mortgage, but they¡¯d laughed him off, so they weren¡¯t debt collectors.


    Then they¡¯d asked about Chloe.


    An Animus Hunter¡¯s personal retinue, maybe?  Jack didn¡¯t know what kind of support the shadowy psychic hunters needed or got.


    He wished he¡¯d gotten a better look at the captors¡¯ boss, or at least his mecha.  By the time he and Ellie realized they were under attack, the enemy machine had blocked the rear hatch from opening and sent bully boys in through the main hatch, avoiding half the ship¡¯s external cameras and covering up the other half.  Jack hadn¡¯t exactly studied the technical specifications the Goose displayed, not when he¡¯d been busy going for a gun and a defensive position.  Something about the mecha stuck in his mind, though.


    It hardly mattered.  Any military-grade machine could have ripped through Goslings One through Three.  Jack had surrendered as soon as he realized how pointless resisting was.


    Jack and Ellie didn¡¯t say a word about Chloe, of course.  No way in hell were they gonna turn her over to these goons.


    Trouble was, if ¡®these goons¡¯ had Limiters, they had similar nanomachines to uncover the information they wanted.  Maybe Jack, with a military mechaneer¡¯s training and psychological conditioning, could resist their probes, though he doubted it.  Ellie?  No chance.


    He was glad Chloe hadn¡¯t gotten back before the attack, but he wondered why.  Had she gotten lost?  Decided to strike off on her own?


    Or had their captors picked her up with a second team?


    He wanted so bad to pull his flight suit''s mask up and call her ¨C but he couldn''t.  Whoever had captured him and Ellie would sure as hell be able to trace whatever response Chloe gave.


    All Jack could do was hope.


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    If he¡¯d failed Chloe, too¡­


    He shook his head.  Maybe he¡¯d failed and maybe he hadn¡¯t.  He¡¯d gotten captured by nobs once, during the Civil War.  Spent all of a week in their holding camp before he took advantage of an Oligarchical raid to break out.  Catching Jack Hughes might well prove easier than keeping him.


    Of course, he hadn¡¯t had a wife or daughter to worry about the last time.  The only guys who¡¯d made a break for it with him were other mechaneers or naval men, all of whom were expected to take care of themselves.


    No point in giving up, though.


    He had to assume Chloe was free.  If so, she¡¯d surely try some damn fool scheme to rescue the rest of her family.


    He had an obligation to escape, if only to stop her.


    No¡­


    He had an obligation to make sure somebody escaped.


    He gave the shuttle¡¯s passenger compartment another glance.  It didn¡¯t look like a military design.  Way too posh and comfortable.  He wasn¡¯t surprised.  The Federal Senate frowned on the use of military forces in the atmospheres of its member planets.  Gave the wrong impression about the ¡®peace and equality of the galaxy.¡¯


    The shuttle also wasn¡¯t headed for orbit.  The sky outside stayed the same uniform blue.


    Jack figured he and Ellie were bound for some kind of drop point, maybe a disguised civilian building used for black ops or police work.  The guards might not all stick around for fear of drawing attention.  If they trusted the Limiters to protect them, they might leave a real skeleton crew, just one or two guys.


    The thought brought a grim smile to Jack¡¯s face.


    Limiters were powerful things, but they weren¡¯t perfect.  They didn''t respond to thoughts, just to changes in brain chemistry ¨C changes that, in a disciplined mind, could lag whole seconds behind thought and action.  Jack knew a few tricks to let him get off at least one or two blows.


    Have to make sure he only needed one or two.


    Have to hope Limiters hadn''t improved since the Civil War.


    Once the guards were down, it didn¡¯t matter if Jack saw the world through an endorphin haze for a few hours.  He trusted Ellie to get herself safely away.  Maybe, just maybe, to lead him out, too, though he considered his own escape optional.


    He felt downright confident about the plan when he felt the shuttle¡¯s thrusters flare below him, then fizzle to a halt as it settled onto a landing pad.


    ¡°Up,¡± said one of the guards.  ¡°You¡¯ve got a meeting to attend.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s too bad, guys.¡±  Jack flashed a grin.  ¡°You know, it¡¯s the damndest thing, but I just remembered I left my notes at home.  Why don¡¯t you just let me head on back and pick ¡®em up.  You won¡¯t even know I¡¯m gone.¡±


    The guard''s mask twisted as he scowled.  ¡°Get moving, wise guy.¡±


    ¡°You know what your problem is?¡±  Jack rose while he talked and started toward the hatch at the front of the compartment.  All he wanted was to keep the guards distracted so he could scope the area.  ¡°You guys work too hard.  If I were on a gorgeous planet like this, you can bet your ass I wouldn¡¯t be slaving away at some kinda nine to five job.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re on call exactly as long as it takes to get you to your meeting,¡± the guard said.


    ¡°Huh,¡± said Jack.  So they trusted some other security system, probably electronic.  He suppressed his grin.  ¡°Sounds like a pretty sweet package.  Where do you get perks like that, anyway?  Maybe I¡¯m in the wrong line of work here?¡±


    ¡°Just shut up and fall in.¡±


    Jack shut up and fell in.  He¡¯d learned enough about his captors just from the few taunts he¡¯d thrown.  Now he needed time to absorb the information.


    He surveyed the landing pad.  They seemed to have ended up on some kind of private dock, a platform with only half-pipe highways linking it to its neighbors ¨C wherever they were.  Everything on Wellach floated above or within its world-spanning ocean.  All the commercial centers were linked by gravlev trains, but not this arcology.  It floated far enough off the beaten path he couldn''t see any other platforms.  One large building, easily big enough to swallow a dozen Mother Geese, and a trio of outbuildings of about a tenth its size, rose from the plate.  Despite its scale and isolation, it didn¡¯t much look like a military base.  It had the same posh appearance as the shuttle.


    Jack glanced over his shoulder, saw a pair of their captors lead Ellie down a second ramp.


    ¡°You okay, Hon?¡± Jack called.


    Ellie didn¡¯t answer.  She stared at the waves sloshing against the edges of the platform, a blank smile on her face.


    ¡°Hon¡­?¡±


    ¡°The felid is subject to heavier Limiters,¡± the guard Jack had needled before said.


    ¡°You son of a ¨C!¡±  Jack choked back his curse and clenched his fists to his sides.  Not yet.  He couldn¡¯t make his move yet.  ¡°If Ellie''s hurt, I¡¯ll make sure you regret being the one to hurt her.¡±


    ¡°Nobody''s been hurt.¡±  The voice, icy cool, cocky and familiar, came from behind Jack.  ¡°Nor has your property suffered serious damage.¡±


    Jack turned, slowly, to face the speaker.


    He knew he wasn¡¯t gonna escape.


    He should¡¯ve known by the electric blue and red stripes of the shuttle''s carpet.


    He was surprised how little the lean, almost skinny man had changed.  He looked older than he had during the Civil War, his face a bit stronger and marked by a few lines here and there, and he wore a groundling-style suit with only a red-and-blue harlequin tie to bring to mind his old flight suit.  But he had the same shit-eating grin, the same half-squint, smirking electric blue eyes, the same strawberry blonde hair, even, improbably, something of the same boyish good looks.  Of course, he¡¯d been little more than a kid back in the day, so he had an excuse to look young.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, Colonel Hughes,¡± once-Commodore Otto Aber Algreil said.

 Chapter 7: Pit Crew

    Chapter 7: Pit Crew


    ¡°Well, what do you think of her?¡±


    Rudy gestured to the mecha towering overhead. He¡¯d had it painted bright crimson for the tournament, but even without the singular paint job, it stood out in the crowded mecha bay. More than sixteen meters tall, sleek as a scout mecha but for its size, it sported a sextet of spike-like wing-struts for its maneuvering thrusters. Its arms ended in the usual humanoid hands, but each of its bulky ¡®wrists¡¯ accommodated a pair of missile launchers and gave it the appearance of wearing flared gloves. Its fingers were equipped with monomolecular-edged claws capable of cutting through even armor as advanced as its own, and a mecha-scale rifle hung on a rack behind it.


    ¡°This is the brand spanking new Epee-class interceptor,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Pretty impressive, huh?¡±


    Chloe mumbled an ¡°Uh-huh.¡±


    He glanced at her.


    She didn¡¯t exactly look like she had when he¡¯d picked her up ¨C which was, of course, the point. Her hair had gone from medium blonde to navy blue, but chemically straightened so it couldn¡¯t be mistaken for aristocratic dark brown curls. Rudy called it hiding in plain sight. Because the stylist had straightened it, it looked longer than before, and it hung over her ears instead of brushing behind them. She¡¯d lost the flight suit, of course, and picked up a lightweight mechanic¡¯s getup in its place: shorts, toolbelt suspenders and a short blouse covered with pockets. Rudy had picked out the gear. It was practical, it fit in, and, for reasons he couldn''t begin to fathom, Chloe was embarrassed to trade her skin-tight flight suit for it.


    Chloe Hughes didn¡¯t look much like Chloe Hughes anymore.


    She still looked miserable.


    ¡°Hey, is your receiver off or something? You¡¯ve at least got to learn enough to try to fake belonging in the pit.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± She looked up at the mecha. ¡°It sure is big. I doubt I¡¯ll know anything about fixing it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not so worried about repairs. Concentrate on checking the fluids and you should do fine. Especially the coolant. That¡¯s gonna be your job.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want me to do this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got my reasons.¡±


    Primarily, he wanted to tweak the Feds who were apparently tailing her.


    Secondarily, for all he claimed she wasn''t his type, well... for the type she was, she was one hell of a fine example. Besides, he liked the challenge. He could bed some fangirl any day. Romancing a spacer was a different story.


    Finally, though, he wanted her in the pit for more than moral support. He wanted somebody outside the company handling the coolant for the final match. He didn¡¯t like the way the Epee ran hot, despite the garish flames he¡¯d had painted on it.


    He liked it less because he¡¯d lost at the Etemenos Cup a year before when the prototype overheated.


    He liked it least of all because his machine''s automated forfeit had left him with a new, unofficial nickname. If he heard some wise guy call him ¡®Crimson Chicken¡¯ one more damned time¡­


    No point in thinking about it.


    Allegedly, the production model wouldn¡¯t burn through its coolant so fast.


    Allegedly, the prototype had been properly refilled with the conductive fluid.


    Rudy wasn¡¯t sure he believed either assertion, or, if he did, which one to believe.


    Algreil Aerospace had no reason to throw a match, but plenty of other Oligarchs had reason to sabotage one. Rudy trusted the head of his engineering crew, but the rest of the scrubs paid a pittance to keep the Epee running? Flash a megamark their way and they''d rig the thing to blow, much less to overheat in the middle of a match.


    A rival oligarch could flash a terramark at a mechanic and still profit astronomically on the deal if they could steal a contract out from under Algreil Aerospace.


    Rudy didn''t care about profit margins and sales figures ¨C unless they got in his way.


    Chloe interrupted his brooding. ¡°How does this help me find my parents?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a real one track mind,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Directly, it doesn¡¯t. This is how you repay me for helping you out.¡±


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    She sighed.


    She looked the mecha over again.


    She frowned.


    ¡°That flaming bird insignia on the left, that¡¯s not the Algreil Aerospace logo, but I¡¯ve seen it before.¡± She glanced at the mecha, then at Rudy. Her eyes widened. ¡°Wait a minute. You¡¯re the Crimson Phoenix? Rudolf Kaine Algreil?¡±


    Rudy blinked. ¡°I thought you knew!¡±


    ¡°I had no idea,¡± Chloe said. ¡°You¡¯re famous. Heck, you must be the second¡­ third¡­ well, one of the top ten mechaneers in the galaxy, anyway.¡±


    Rudy doubted he managed to hide his scowl. Second, third, top ten. Never number one. After all, something always went wrong in the Crimson Phoenix¡¯s final matches. Five times he¡¯d made it to the Etemenos Cup''s final four, once as the youngest ever to get that far. Five times he¡¯d lost.


    At least four of those he blamed on equipment failure or plain old bad luck.


    Chloe''s frown looked as deep as his. ¡°Is it really safe for me to be seen with you? If someone were to identify me¡­¡±


    ¡°Remember, hiding in plain sight,¡± Rudy said. In his mind he added, even if I¡¯ve half a mind to dump you here and now. Only top ten? Bah. ¡°All the recorders will see is the Crimson Phoenix and a mechanic or a girlfriend. She¡¯s just background noise.¡±


    ¡°But, will you really help me find my parents?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Anything to tweak the Feds, you know?¡±


    Of course she knew. If she knew his tournament name, she probably knew most of the sordid details of his relationship with the Federal Navy Mechaneer Corps. He¡¯d confessed to getting kicked out of six military academies. He hadn¡¯t elaborated on why.


    Nor did he plan to.


    The rumors were bad enough. The truth, probably worse.


    ¡°Your motives don¡¯t exactly fill me with confidence,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy shrugged. ¡°Neither does your experience as a mechanic.¡±


    ¡°Then ¨C¡±


    ¡°The mutual absence of value also serves to produce equivalent exchange,¡± Rudy said. He wasn''t sure if the phrase was something he''d picked up from his brother or if he''d read it in one of the economics textbooks forced on him in those six academies he''d attended.


    Chloe looked unconvinced of their present equivalence.


    All the same, she climbed onto one of the Epee''s access ladders. She scaled the ladder and crosswalk with the dexterity of a veteran mechanic.


    Of course, Rudy thought. Like any nob, she was born to work with mecha.


    Whatever he might tell Chloe, Rudy was completely confident in her mechanical aptitude. She might claim to be clueless about military mecha, might actually be clueless, but the care and feeding of humanoid battle machines was in her blood. She¡¯d know if something went wrong in the pit.


    Even if she didn¡¯t, she wouldn¡¯t be a party to causing something to go wrong.


    He called, ¡°You see the coolant intake?¡±


    ¡°Here by the left chest plate, right?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Open her up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± Chloe vanished behind the plate. A moment later, her face appeared, covered with sweat and grease. ¡°It seems stuck. I can¡¯t work it loose.¡±


    ¡°You used a vibrating release on the bolts?¡±


    ¡°Erm,¡± said Chloe.


    She disappeared again.


    Rudy chuckled. She really didn¡¯t know anything about military mecha. However decorative the toolbelt suspenders he''d bought her might look setting off her slim midriff, they weren''t just for show.


    Still, she got it right on the second try.


    ¡°Now bring the coolant nozzle over,¡± Rudy said. ¡°The remote should already be attuned. See it on your shoulder there? Remember, you¡¯ve got to do this fast, while the other guy¡¯s team is trying to get the dents hammered out and the cracks filled.¡± He, of course, didn¡¯t expect to suffer either in a rube tournament like Wellach¡¯s.


    Chloe hauled out a remote control for the fluid delivery tubes. She got them going in the right direction with her first try, and even remembered to duck out of their way.


    Rudy watched, nodded, as she grabbed the coolant tube and guided its nozzle to the open intake valve. It clicked on with a hydraulic hiss.


    ¡°It¡¯s attached,¡± she called. She probably didn¡¯t mean for him to hear the ¡°I think¡± she tacked on the end, so he ignored it. It looked fine from where he stood, and anyway, how bad could it get? She''d spill coolant on herself and he''d have to slather some of the medical nanopaste from the hangar''s first aid kit on her exposed skin?


    ¡°Fill ¡®er up,¡± he said.


    Chloe studied her remote control for a moment. She replaced it on the tool belt and felt for the switch on the coolant tube itself. It jerked as gallons of thick, only mildly toxic superconductive fluid pumped through it.


    Not bad, Rudy thought. Not nearly good enough for a major tournament bout, but not bad.


    She shut the coolant off almost a full minute too soon for his tastes. He called, ¡°Give it a little extra. It¡¯s a big machine and it runs hot.¡±


    ¡°This should be just right,¡± Chloe said. ¡°If you fill the tank too high with a hot-running machine, it expands the coolant and puts pressure on the internal tubing. You can even spring a leak, especially around the intake valve. It¡¯s called overextending the fluids. I almost lost Gosling Two that way the first time Mom let me do the maintenance.¡±


    ¡°And if it burns out because it doesn¡¯t have enough coolant, the whole reactor has to be shut down. You know what we call that?¡±


    ¡°Disqualification,¡± Chloe said. ¡°I saw a recording of the last Etemenos Cup. You were doing really good, too. Actually, if you had this tank filled up and had been running the Epee all day long, maybe your coolant did overextend. It kinda looked like it.¡±


    ¡°You really think that¡¯s what happened at the last Cup?¡± Rudy didn¡¯t buy it for a second, of course ¨C especially since it meant abandoning his pet conspiracy theories.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Chloe looked away. ¡°Let¡¯s just call it a hunch.¡±

 Chapter 8: Company Policy

    Chapter 8: Company Policy


    ¡°About time you showed up,¡± Otto Algreil said. He sat in a plain chair behind a plain desk in a plain office. Aside from the white carpet and the red and blue lines leading from the door to intersect in the Algreil Aerospace logo at his feet, the whole place was metallic silver.


    Rudy flashed his older brother an exaggerated smile. ¡°I feel so wanted, bro. Normally you¡¯re happy to be rid of me.¡±


    Otto shook his head. ¡°Just sit down and shut up.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the brother I know and love,¡± Rudy said. He sounded happy. In a way, he supposed he was. If Otto ever displayed a dram of real affection, it probably meant he was sick. If he was sick, he might die.


    As much as the idea appealed to Rudy, it also meant a hell of a lot of responsibilities landing on his shoulders. Had he been a theist, or even much of a believer in the Almighty Principle as a concept, he would have prayed for a long and healthful pattern to his brother¡¯s days.


    ¡°Where the hell have you been for the past two days,¡± Otto asked. ¡°You check out of the company compound and don¡¯t check in until hitting the mecha stables in the company of an unknown woman ¨C¡±


    ¡°Unfair,¡± Rudy said.


    Otto raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I know who she is,¡± Rudy said.


    Otto looked about ready to reach across the spartan metal desk and strangle him. Mission accomplished.


    ¡°You know she¡¯s not an industrial spy sent to steal data on the Epee-class interceptor?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d met her, you¡¯d know it, too.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Otto said, ¡°I¡¯d know she¡¯s good enough to fool you. Not that it takes much.¡±


    ¡°Look, she¡¯s not a spy, okay? I made contact with her, not the other way around. When I did it, I was, as you pointed out, out of contact with HQ. Nobody knew where I was at the time, so how the hell could they have coordinated any kind of espionage action?¡±


    ¡°Even if she¡¯s not, someone could still entice or coerce information from her.¡±


    ¡°Just like they could from those wage slaves you have working the Epee most of the time,¡± Rudy said. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal.¡±


    ¡°She is not part of the corporate family,¡± Otto snapped. ¡°We have no jurisdiction over her. It¡¯s not equivalent at all.¡±


    Rudy shrugged. ¡°You gonna pull me out of the tournament over it, bro? Gonna fire me?¡±


    Otto gritted his teeth in answer.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s not a big deal,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Now, what else do you want to bitch about?¡±


    ¡°Why weren¡¯t you on call for the real operation on this planet? If you¡¯d offered any kind of assistance, we might have recovered the primary instead of loose change.¡±


    ¡°Real operation? I thought this was a field test for the production model Epee."


    Otto sighed. ¡°You didn¡¯t watch the subliminal briefing.¡±


    ¡°I hate those damned things, bro. They always give me headaches. You know that. You knew when you gave it to me. Hell, I pitched it before we left Algreil Prime! If I needed to know, you could¡¯ve told me in person.¡±


    ¡°Forget it. I should¡¯ve known better than to rely on you for anything substantive. How many times have I had to bail your lazy ass out after you screwed up? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? It seems like a hundred.¡±


    Rudy barked a laugh. ¡°Get off your high horse, Otto. You don¡¯t do me any favors because I¡¯m your beloved little brother. You keep me around because I¡¯m a damn good mechaneer and I show off Algreil Aerospace¡¯s product line better than anybody else you could get.¡±


    ¡°Someday, Rudy, that may not be enough.¡±


    ¡°But not this day,¡± Rudy said. He tossed his brother a wave as he rose from his chair and drifted toward the door. ¡°See you at the tournament, bro. Wish me luck.¡±


    ¡°For the company¡¯s sake, I will.¡±


    ¡°You bring a tear to my eye.¡±


    ¡°Then for once, we have something in common.¡±


    Rudy chuckled. He had a hard time picturing Otto weeping over anything ¨C but hey, he did like a challenge.


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    He strode through the doors of Otto''s office and down halls of similarly spartan construction. Algreil Aerospace knew how to provide luxury for its employees, but its oligarch, weaned on civil warfare, didn''t like to see said luxury at the office. Otto lived in an orbital complex swank enough to put the nobs'' old manors to shame, but he worked in an office little bigger than a cubicle and expected his subordinates to follow suit.


    Rudy wondered how many decorations had been stripped from the halls when the local branch learned their oligarch planned to visit Wellach.


    For his part, Rudy preferred the comforts of a nice hotel. Since he was the best test pilot on the Algreil payroll, he got what he wanted. For all Otto¡¯s bluster, the only way he could make a profit by firing Rudy was if he went back to piloting the prototypes himself. He¡¯d never shown much inclination to do so.


    A pair of corporate security officers passed him. They offered crisp, military-style salutes, proving that despite their regular uniforms, they were old enough to have served under Otto in Devil Ray Squadron during the Civil War.


    ¡°At ease, guys,¡± Rudy said. ¡°I¡¯m not my brother.¡±


    From the resentment in their eyes, they knew it quite well. Plenty of the Devil Rays were test pilots in their own right. Plenty of them thought they were better suited to operating the company prototypes.


    After all, the Crimson Phoenix had never actually won the Etemenos Cup.


    Rudy was surprised to see them dressed like regular security officers. ¡°What¡¯re you guys doing here? Otto bring you along for the ride?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here to clean up the messes you didn¡¯t bother with,¡± one snapped. He added a reluctant, ¡°Mr. Algreil.¡±


    The other shot him a warning glare.


    Rudy cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Is this about Otto¡¯s ¡®real operation¡¯ on Wellach? What exactly is he up to?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t know, Mr. Algreil, you apparently don¡¯t need to,¡± the second Devil Ray said.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯re probably right there,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not curious.¡±


    Two stony faces answered the unspoken question.


    Rudy shrugged. ¡°Whatever it is, don¡¯t let me keep you. Principle knows I¡¯m on a need to know basis around here.¡±


    They nodded token respect, or maybe just agreement, and brushed past him.


    Assholes, Rudy thought.


    Still, he wondered what two of his brother¡¯s personal assholes were being so secretive about. He wished he hadn¡¯t scrapped the subliminal briefing. Figured, the first time he was actually interested in one of the damn things, he didn¡¯t have it.


    He knew he should drop it and head back to the hotel. Leaving Chloe alone for too long seemed like a bad idea. Even a week since her parents'' capture, her mental state went from bad to worse when she didn¡¯t have him around to distract her.


    She could wait a little while longer.


    He strode down the hall until the two Devil Rays turned the corner, then whirled and slunk back along their trail. Though he¡¯d never cleared a semester at a mechaneer academy, no one ever said he lacked talent for things military. He doubted even a pair of his brother¡¯s elites could hear him gliding across the carpet.


    For several blocks worth of arcanely labeled metal hallways, Rudy thought he was wasting his time. The Devil Rays made a complete circuit of the Algreil Aerospace main building without even speaking.


    Then it struck Rudy.


    They were patrolling.


    Why have elite troops on patrol? Did Otto expect an attack? If some corporate rival actually intended a frontal assault on Algreil holdings, Rudy did feel bad for skipping the briefing. Company loyalty wasn¡¯t his strong suit, but he knew what side buttered his bread.


    The Devil Rays didn¡¯t seem worried. Otto didn¡¯t really seem worried, either, just annoyed.


    Maybe they didn¡¯t want to keep someone out.


    Rudy stopped. While the Devil Rays marched out of earshot, he willed his flight suit¡¯s mask up to cover his head and face. The nanomachines lacing the suit''s fabric attached directly to his nervous system, making it almost an extension of his body. The Algreil Aerospace logo appeared on its otherwise transparent heads-up display.


    He ran through his activation codes and passwords. The HUD flashed to the hub of the Algreil Aerospace network on Wellach. Remembering Otto¡¯s shuttle zooming over the port village, he navigated to its flight records.


    He frowned.


    According to the records, the shuttle, and Otto¡¯s mecha, had been in the service bay the entire time. Mr. Algreil himself had not left the Algreil Aerospace platform since arriving on Wellach.


    Bull, Rudy thought.


    Why falsify high security internal records? It meant a hassle explaining fuel expenses, landing clearances ¨C hell, it was bad business. Otto allowed no trace of bad business.


    Just what the hell had he been doing at the port?


    It had to be something illegal. Not just the usual corporate shenanigans, the shadow war between Oligarchs. Something bad enough to piss off the Feds, maybe as high up as the Senate itself.


    Pissing off the Feds was even worse business than messing with the internal records. If they got mad enough, they had the power to shut down an entire company, even one as powerful as Algreil Aerospace. It had happened once before.


    Rudy, then sixteen, had flunked out of his third mechaneer academy and gone back to the family estate-station at Algreil Prime. When he saw Otto¡¯s face, he¡¯d thought his third flunk out would be his last. He¡¯d never seen his brother look so ashen. It had shaken Rudy more than he wanted to admit, to the point he¡¯d broken down and asked what was wrong.


    Rudy¡¯d had to ask three times before he finally got an answer.


    ¡°They hit Kalder-Black,¡± Otto had said. ¡°Wiped them out, the whole company. Slagged the planet''s surface, confiscated the rest. Casualties still tallying.¡±


    Rudy hadn¡¯t understood why losing a competitor upset his brother. Morgan Kalder-Black, of Kalder-Black Industrial Technologies, had been their number one rival. ¡°Who are ''they?''¡±


    ¡°The Feds,¡± Otto had said, like it explained everything.


    Which, Rudy supposed, it did.


    He never remembered seeing his brother look truly sad or scared, except that day.


    Which meant whatever Otto had been after on Wellach, whatever his ¡®real operation¡¯ was, it was valuable enough to risk the entire company for.

 Chapter 9: Divine Auric Drake

    Chapter 9: Divine Auric Drake


    Chloe didn''t follow the tournament scene, but she''d been subjected to plenty of recorded mecha bouts. Her father made a point of keeping up with the latest military machines and tournament stars. She''d always tried to weasel out of watching the recordings before. Now she''d watch every tournament ever filmed, if she could just do it with him.


    Regardless, she¡¯d never seen one in person before.


    In one sense, it seemed far more impressive. The Mother Goose''s small screens and speakers couldn¡¯t begin to match the sight and sound of dozens of powerful military or tournament mecha crunching their way across the platforms. Some showed off sleek, elegant moves, like Rudy¡¯s Epee. Others were even more massive, but bulky, like not-very-miniature ships compressed into humanoid form. Every variety came garishly painted to show off its owner¡¯s equally garish moniker. Crimson Phoenix, Rocket God Gil, Black Rook, Iron Bear ¨C if she searched long enough, Chloe figured she¡¯d run into an actual Invincible Battle Princess.


    But the Mother Goose''s systems didn¡¯t capture the tournament¡¯s smell, either, and she considered its absence a blessing. It made an unpleasant cocktail, rich with the sickly-sweet odor of coolant for mecha engines, the acrid smoke of last-minute armor and weapons tests, even the nervous sweat of the individual mechaneers. The warm sea breeze, far from providing a pleasant contrast, only served to stir the stinking mix to new levels.


    Chloe wished she had her flight suit. Even leaving aside the immodesty of the getup Rudy gave her, the suit could filter the air or even offer up a few blissful minutes from its internal supply.


    She wished she had Gosling Two. Its life support systems were good for hours.


    Of course, considering the number of wishes she¡¯d made lately, and the number she¡¯d had fulfilled, it hardly surprised her that the scent continued to assail her nostrils.


    The rest of Rudy¡¯s pit crew didn¡¯t improve her mood. They watched her with sullen resentment, and, she thought, even a trace of menace. Considering the number of dangers inherent in rapidly repairing and refueling mecha, Chloe wished she hadn¡¯t thought of the latter.


    Rudy emerged from the Epee¡¯s cockpit. He jumped from the boarding ladder to land beside her. ¡°You want to grab something to eat before the preliminaries?¡±


    Chloe frowned. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we go over your pre-mission preparations or something?¡±


    She heard muffled laughter from the pit crew. She tried to ignore it.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to screw around with these preliminary rounds,¡± Rudy said. ¡°My record¡¯s good enough to bypass them entirely.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    As she followed Rudy toward the lifts, she caught something along the lines of ¡°not even a fan¡± from the pit crew.


    She hung her head as the lift carried them up into the stands.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let them bug you,¡± Rudy said. ¡°They figure I¡¯m letting you fool around back there because you¡¯re my girlfriend.¡±


    ¡°Why are you letting me fool around back there?¡± Chloe asked. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯m doing. I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°I told you not to worry about it.¡±


    ¡°But ¨C¡±


    He silenced her by pointing at a group of uniformed men. ¡°Look, there¡¯s the Reformer delegation.¡±


    Chloe paled. ¡°What are they doing here?¡±


    ¡°Whenever there¡¯s a military vessel in orbit during a tournament, they always send their best pilots ¡®to defend the honor of the Federal Navy,¡¯¡± Rudy said. ¡°Geez, you really aren¡¯t a fan, are you? Anyway, I was hoping to feel them out a little.¡±


    Chloe managed to grow paler still, which she wouldn¡¯t have imagined possible. ¡°Y¡­ you want to talk to them?¡±


    ¡°Hiding in plain sight,¡± he said. He flashed a confident grin, but it didn¡¯t put Chloe¡¯s mind at ease. ¡°How else do you expect to find your parents? Blind luck?¡±


    By a hunch, Chloe thought. But in three weeks, she hadn¡¯t received any about her parents, or anything else. Her intuition¡¯s silence terrified her. Did it mean her parents weren¡¯t around to get hunches about?


    She didn¡¯t have time to think about it, because Rudy¡¯s arm had found its way around her uncomfortably bared waist and his stride led her toward the cluster of uniformed men.


    Their apparent leader, a tall, platinum-blonde man in a sleek gold and dark green flight suit, turned his amber eyes to Rudy and Chloe. He had to be the handsomest man Chloe had ever seen, by far. Even when his amazing eyes were narrowed to slits with suspicion. ¡°Crimson Phoenix.¡± His voice, though like his eyes low and wary at the moment, was every bit as deep and melodic as she imagined it.


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    ¡°Well if it isn¡¯t the Divine Auric Drake,¡± Rudy said. He grinned. ¡°What¡¯s that hunk of junk the Reformer doing out here? Shouldn¡¯t your mighty self be defending the capital from our numberless foes?¡±


    ¡°My business here does not concern you,¡± the navy man said. ¡°Nor am I interested in yours. The young lady, on the other hand¡­¡±


    Before Chloe could react, the navy man took her hand and bent to kiss it. His hypnotic eyes smiled up at her.


    She flushed.


    ¡°Who is this beautiful creature slaved to your crude service, Crimson Phoenix?¡±


    ¡°Chloe,¡± Rudy said.


    Chloe fought back an urge to whirl on him and demand an explanation. Did he mean to turn her over to the Federal Navy after all?


    ¡°A lovely name for a lovely maiden.¡±


    ¡°T, thank you, sir,¡± Chloe managed.


    Rudy stepped between them. ¡°All right, Marcel, you¡¯ve made your point. Unhand my girl.¡±


    ¡°But Crimson Phoenix, you have yet to properly introduce us.¡± The navy man released Chloe¡¯s hand and stepped back far enough to offer a polite bow. ¡°I am Marcel Avalon, Second Admiral of the Federal Navy and commander of the destroyer Reformer.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an honor, Admiral Avalon,¡± Chloe stammered.


    ¡°You may call me Marcel.¡±


    She nodded enthusiastically. A first name basis seemed less incriminating than including the ¡®Hughes¡¯ in her name.


    ¡°Marcel Avalon,¡± Rudy said, ¡°Chloe Derringer. You may call her my new secret weapon.¡±


    Avalon raised a magnificent platinum eyebrow.


    ¡°She¡¯s a good luck charm,¡± Rudy said, ¡°and a trained mechanic.¡±


    Avalon laughed. ¡°And here I thought you meant she would improve your piloting, Crimson Phoenix.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s impossible.¡± Rudy heaved an exaggerated sigh. ¡°No room to improve on perfection.¡±


    Chloe felt like sighing, too. She didn¡¯t see how any of this helped find her parents or win the tournament.


    With a start, she realized she actually cared about the latter, too.


    Only natural, she supposed. Rudy had helped her a lot, and in doing so possibly risked a great deal of trouble from men like Marcel Avalon. Why shouldn¡¯t she pull for him to win, when it obviously meant a lot to him?


    She couldn¡¯t afford to get too grateful. Whatever else happened, finding and rescuing her parents took precedence. If Rudy Kaine Algreil thought otherwise, he would be in for a rude surprise.


    Avalon¡¯s rich tenor drew her back to the moment. ¡°Perhaps you and your delightful ¡®mechanic¡¯ would consent to join us at the planetary governor¡¯s box, Crimson Phoenix. No one else in this tournament seems likely to present a challenge, and I prefer to know my enemies.¡±


    Rudy shrugged. ¡°What do you think, Chloe? Wanna spend the preliminaries with this stiff?¡±


    A great part of Chloe wanted very much to spend the preliminaries with Avalon. The rest of her, the sentient part, was terrified to do so, not least because of the effect he had on her at an instinctive level. ¡°I¡¯d like to, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Fine by me,¡± Rudy said. He motioned toward the screened off and heavily shielded private boxes above the arena. ¡°Lead on.¡±


    Lead Avalon did, flanked by a trio of other flight-suited mechaneers and a lone bridge officer in naval dress uniform. They fanned out to surround their guests.


    Chloe cast a nervous glance at Rudy.


    He winked.


    She didn¡¯t know what to make of his eagerness to throw them both into the proverbial lion¡¯s den. She didn¡¯t dare make a scene to stop it, lest she rouse suspicion with their Federal Navy escort.


    Unless¡­


    ¡°Wait, Rudy,¡± she said, grabbing his arm. ¡°I can¡¯t go to the private boxes dressed like this, can I?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t bother me,¡± he said. ¡°How about you, oh Divine Auric Drake?¡±


    ¡°A lady of such rare beauty shines through the drab attire she¡¯s no doubt acquired from associating with the likes of you,¡± Avalon said.


    ¡°Well it bothers me,¡± Chloe said. ¡°It¡¯s embarrassing. Please?¡±


    Rudy¡¯s face creased in annoyance. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, Chloe. It¡¯s a mecha stadium, not a ballroom. Who cares how you¡¯re dressed?¡±


    ¡°I care.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± Rudy threw up his hands. ¡°Sorry, Marcel. Maybe we¡¯ll catch up with you later.¡±


    ¡°An unfortunate development,¡± Avalon said. ¡°Nonetheless, I can understand your desire to conform to the caprice of this beautiful nymph. I¡¯m sure your accounts will cover her desire for proper attire, no?¡±


    Rudy didn¡¯t bother answering. He returned Chloe¡¯s grip and all but dragged her from the encircling officers.


    ¡°Until we meet again,¡± Avalon said, ¡°Crimson Phoenix, Miss Derringer.¡±


    He turned crisply and strode into the crowd, who parted for him as though he were a laser cutter. His men fell in behind him.


    Rudy guided Chloe into an alcove and gripped her shoulders, hard enough to hurt. ¡°What the hell got into you back there? You trying to make a fool of me or something?¡±


    ¡°I ¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to help you out, but if you ever pull crap like that, Chloe, you are gone.¡±


    ¡°What? What did I do?¡±


    ¡°What did you ¨C! You embarrassed me in front of Marcel Avalon, that¡¯s what. A former Etemenos Cup champion. A guy I¡¯ve beaten. And now he loses all respect for me, and so does anybody else who was watching.¡±


    Chloe drew back. ¡°Why would he lose respect for you?¡±


    ¡°Fighting is all about control,¡± Rudy said, shaking his head in disgust. He released her arms and turned away. ¡°How can I control a battlefield if I can¡¯t even control my own so-called girlfriend?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy didn¡¯t answer.


    She risked reaching out to clasp one of his shaking shoulders. ¡°Being around all those Feds made me nervous,¡± she whispered. ¡°If I¡¯d known it would make you lose face, I wouldn¡¯t have done it. Honest.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Rudy spat. He pounded a fist into his palm. His voice dropped as he repeated the words, his anger apparently spent.


    ¡°If there¡¯s any way to make it up to you ¨C¡±


    ¡°Just one.¡± He turned. His cocky grin returned to its customary place. ¡°Make sure I don¡¯t lose.¡±

 Chapter 10: Private Box

    Chapter 10: Private Box


    ¡°When was the last time you saw a tournament in person?¡±


    Jack didn¡¯t answer Otto¡¯s question.


    He sat beside the Oligarch of Algreil Aerospace in a shaded booth that showed all the signs of having been built to some other executive¡¯s specifications. Jack knew the thick carpet and plush chairs hadn¡¯t been his former commander¡¯s idea. The view of the arena and the Wellach Cup could¡¯ve been better, too.


    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate your attitude, Jack,¡± Otto said. ¡°You still seem to be operating under the idea that I¡¯ve done you some kind of wrong.¡±


    ¡°I saw the damn footage,¡± Jack said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I have to believe it. Why¡¯d the Feds want to drop a whole destroyer on us, anyway?¡±


    Otto sighed. ¡°It¡¯s too bad I can¡¯t introduce you to Admiral Avalon. Maybe then you¡¯d believe me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°What do I have to do to convince you, old buddy?¡±


    ¡°Let me and my wife go back to the Mother Goose and never come after us again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to ¨C believe me, if I¡¯d had any intention of keeping you around to catch up on old times, the inclination has rapidly faded.¡±


    ¡°Then do it,¡± Jack said. He didn¡¯t bother fast-talking Otto. The Oligarch would¡¯ve seen through it at fifteen, when he took over Devil Ray squadron as one of the greatest mechaneers ever to suit up. He¡¯d sure as hell see through it with another twenty years experience.


    ¡°Can¡¯t,¡± Otto said. ¡°Even if your ship weren''t impounded in one of the Reformer''s shuttle bays, you¡¯d be food for the Feds before you could blink.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances.¡±


    ¡°But I won¡¯t.¡±


    Obviously, or Jack wouldn¡¯t have been sitting in the Algreil Aerospace booth. ¡°At least let me see Ellie.¡±


    ¡°Your pet felid?¡±


    ¡°My wife,¡± Jack growled.


    He could see the scowl on Otto¡¯s face. No surprise there. Algreil Aerospace hadn''t been involved in the hybrid trade before the Civil War, but they hadn''t condemned it, either. And during the war...


    Well, Jack had resigned before the battle of Etemenos for a reason. A damn good reason.


    Besides, if half what Jack read in the gossip columns was true, Otto didn¡¯t treat his own wife ¨C Alarie Wein Marchess-Algreil, heiress to the United Shipping Magnate ¨C much better than he would have a hybrid slave.


    Nonetheless, the oligarch said, ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll have her brought up to watch the show with us.¡±


    Jack¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Ellie¡¯s in this building?¡±


    ¡°You think I¡¯d let such a valuable commodity out of my immediate vicinity, Colonel Hughes? You wound me. Of course she''s here.¡±


    Then they had a chance to escape, Jack thought. Mecha tournaments could get pretty hectic. If he got even a slight opening¡­


    ¡°I can see your mind working,¡± Otto said.


    Jack¡¯s gaze snapped back into focus.


    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about trying to escape. This place is crawling with navy men. They¡¯re all looking for you, in between watching the tournament, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Unless you¡¯re lying,¡± Jack said.


    Otto nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s say I am. Then you have a situation where I just have to ask for their cooperation in apprehending an industrial espionage suspect. Or maybe I should just tell them to secure a rogue hybrid, hm?¡±


    Jack wanted to punch the grin from the Oligarch''s face. Trouble was, he knew he¡¯d fail if he tried, and make things worse for Ellie in the process.


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    ¡°I¡¯m trying to make this as easy as possible for you, Jack,¡± Otto said. ¡°You can keep believing otherwise, but at the moment I really do have your best interests at heart. Yours, and your curious little family¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°The hell you do. You never got into anything if it wasn¡¯t for profit.¡±


    ¡°Of course it¡¯s for profit!¡± Otto looked genuinely offended. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. I¡¯m not a noble, you know. I don''t do favors. That doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s a zero-sum game where my profit has to be your loss.¡±


    He jerked a thumb at the screens depicting Federal Navy sailors mingling with the civilian crowd. ¡°It can be their loss, instead.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather help out the Federal Senate than an Oligarch,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Your little wifey hasn''t cured your idealism yet, eh? Too bad the Feds wouldn¡¯t rather help you. I''m here because my people intercepted an Animus Hunter''s contact with you. Not just any Animus Hunter, either. Perhaps you''d rather deal with the Senate''s own Errard Zelph?"


    ¡°What''s so special about Zelph?¡±


    ¡°That''s right, you quit before the Battle of Etemenos.¡± Otto''s scowl said volumes about his opinion of Jack''s resignation, never mind he''d signed off on it at the time. ¡°Zelph isn''t just another errant. He was a nob once, maybe even an Imperial bastard a few generations back. He''s not just an Animus Hunter, he''s their boss, and their founder.


    ¡°Oh, and he''s the guy who finally killed the Emperor.¡±


    Jack stared.


    ¡°So...¡± Otto cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Still want to take your chances with the Feds?¡±


    Jack kept staring.


    Otto nodded. ¡°Thought so.¡±


    The guy who killed the Emperor.


    Holy.


    Crap.


    And Jack had thought about taking Zelph on? Yeah, sure, and maybe he could solo the Federal Navy while he was at it.


    Assuming Otto was telling the truth ¨C and it seemed like something too easy to check up on for him to bother lying about it ¨C escaping Algreil Aerospace was by far the least of Jack''s worries.


    For lack of any better option, Jack leaned back in the plush chair and watched the preliminaries clang away. After a few minutes, he found himself actually paying attention.


    He didn''t like what he saw.


    None of the mechaneers impressed him. Hell, none of them looked half as good as raw recruits from the Civil War. Even those who, from the looks of their machines, were test pilots or military mechaneers looked like they were taking advantage of the weak field to coast rather than to practice.


    He said as much.


    ¡°Depressing, isn¡¯t it?¡± Otto rubbed the bridge of his nose. ¡°Most of these losers are just salvagers and port workers and pirates, but the job doesn¡¯t matter. They¡¯re amateurs.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with ¡®em?¡±


    ¡°They see it as just a game. None of them have any real killer instinct, none of them train like it¡¯s life or death.¡±


    ¡°Even the soldiers?¡±


    ¡°The soldiers are the worst. Weekend warriors! They think capital ships can fight their battles for them. Our Devil Rays could rip through a thousand of these imbeciles.¡±


    Like the nobles used to rip through us, Jack thought. The current crop looked as far removed from the Oligarchy¡¯s elites as those elites had from the psychic aristocrats they fought.


    He wondered what that would mean if the surviving nobs ever decided to rouse themselves from the Periphery.


    Were the Animus Hunters the only thing the Senate had to throw at the nobs? Sure as hell couldn''t be as many of ''em, no matter how powerful they were.


    Before he could ponder the question further, the doors to the booth¡¯s elevator slid open. A pair of corporate security officers who Jack recognized as ex-Devil Rays stepped through.


    Ellie followed.


    He sprang from his chair and folded her into his arms. For a wonder, she actually responded in kind. They¡¯d apparently stopped pumping her full of Limiters. Jack heard the clomp of two pairs of boots on a metal floor, then doors sliding shut and an elevator zooming downwards. He didn¡¯t really register the sounds.


    When he broke the embrace, he met Ellie¡¯s eyes. Her ears twitched happily.


    He whispered, ¡°You okay, Hon?¡±


    ¡°I am now.¡±


    Otto¡¯s sarcastic applause shattered the moment.


    Jack spun on him.


    The Oligarch had stood to face them. His face was twisted with disgust. He didn¡¯t even manage his usual fakey grin. ¡°Are you finished fussing over your cat there? As you can see, she¡¯s unharmed.¡±


    Jack didn¡¯t think about throwing the punch. It just came. He put everything he had behind it, consequences be damned.


    Otto¡¯s head barely twitched to the side. His hand snaked up and stung Jack on the shoulder he¡¯d led with.


    Jack stumbled. If Ellie hadn¡¯t caught him, he would have cracked his head against the elevator doors. His left arm felt like it had been severed by a laser cutter.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand your preferences,¡± Otto said, ¡°and it pisses me off that I lost an excellent mechaneer because of them."


    That explained a lot. Jack didn''t remember Otto being such a virulent hybrid-hater during the war.


    ¡°But," the oligarch continued, ¡°for old time¡¯s sake, I won¡¯t bring the matter up again. Deal.¡±


    He didn¡¯t mean it as a question.


    As the agony in his shoulder faded, Jack forced himself to his feet. Ellie tried to steady him, but he patted her hand and gently pushed her away.


    He reached out and clasped Otto¡¯s outstretched hand.


    ¡°Deal,¡± he said.


    Somehow, it almost felt like winning.

 Chapter 11: Rocket God

    Chapter 11: Rocket God


    Rudy claimed he hated first rounds. As a former finalist at tournaments considerably more distinguished than the Wellach Cup, he had a bye in the preliminaries. For him, and for the other mechaneers whose previous achievements made tournament success likely, the first round was the preliminary. It was a slap in the face to make him face off against the local color, a waste of time and fuel. What had Rocket God Gil done at the big show on Etemenos?


    When Rudy was in the mecha bay bitching to Chloe and his pit crew, he even believed it.


    But he didn''t hate first rounds. If he''d gotten stuck fighting in the preliminaries, he would have ranted for an hour about the indignity ¨C


    And loved every minute of every match.


    Epiphany in sixteen meters of composite and nanomachines, bliss in the announcer''s half-shout, half-scream ¡°The Criiiiiimson Phoenix,¡± heaven in the first few seconds of slipping into the dance.


    Sometimes, Rudy hummed while he fought. Sometimes, he outright sang.


    It was goofy, and he''d never, ever admit it to a soul. Sure as hell never to a girl, or Otto ¨C although Otto could review the recordings and see for his own damned self. But sometimes, Rudy sang. He had felt so alive only twice outside a mecha: the first time he slept with a girl, and the few times he slept with one he halfway respected.


    The former only happened once, the latter only once in a blue moon.


    But hopping in a mecha, firing up its thruster-wings, flexing its fingers for a fight?


    That happened just about as often as he liked.


    Rudy grinned through the hemisphere of information spread before his eyes.


    His main screen showed the Wellach Cup arena in front of him.


    He swept his gaze to the darkened windows of the Algreil Aerospace booth. He could just imagine Otto¡¯s disgust at the field. Otto considered even elite mechaneers like Rudy inferior to his old Devil Rays. Rudy wanted to prove his brother wrong, but without a full-scale war, how could he? The Devil Rays had been good enough to hang with the nobs, or almost.


    He turned his gaze to the pit, where his crew, Chloe among them, waited to refuel, rearm and repair the Epee ¨C not that Rudy expected to need the last service, at least until he went up against Marcel Avalon. Since all his screens showed his mecha ready for action, he instructed it to give them a thumbs-up.


    He felt more than heard the hum of electromagnetic field generators springing to life. Air howled around him as it was siphoned out of the invisible chambers of the arena.


    The Etemenos Cup took place in the vacuum of the capital world-city''s heart, with individual battlefields easily a hundred times as big as this entire arena. Wellach obviously wanted to make its tournament accessible to the common paying customer, so they created artificial ¡°space¡± here on the planet.


    A shame, in Rudy¡¯s opinion. He liked more room to operate, especially with a nimble mecha like the Epee.


    He tuned out the announcer¡¯s drone. Rocket God Gil, Divine Auric Drake, Crimson Phoenix ¨C only the third seed, Rudy thought with a scowl ¨C, Weapon King, Quicksilver Angel, Death Ray Titan, Red Star Mantis, Black Rook. He was somewhat disappointed the local who called himself the Titanian Lighting Battler, the closest present to Chloe¡¯s imaginary mechaneer name, hadn¡¯t made it out of the preliminaries. No great surprise; the guy hadn¡¯t even claimed invincibility.


    Despite his wandering thoughts, Rudy was more than ready when some idol-orchestra he''d never heard blared the arena''s fanfare over his comlink.


    The gravity in Rudy¡¯s section of the spherical arena vanished. Green lights blinked above his maneuvering thrusters to tell him they were now functioning properly.


    He stretched his arms, already a little stiff from sitting motionless in the cockpit, and waited.


    Rocket God Gil''s mecha filled the center of Rudy''s screen. An immense, ugly, white-and-red custom job with a cigar-shaped ship''s thruster for a torso, it hovered with stubby arms crossed over its chest and its crested head thrown back like it was laughing. Somebody had painted sponsors'' screens onto its sides; as a private owner-pilot, Gil needed big money backing to keep his ¡°Rocket God¡± in fighting trim.


    An insistent window on his right flashed the red and electric blue logo of Algreil Aerospace, trying to call Rudy''s attention to the wealth of performance data, recorded matches, notes on tendencies and capabilities his crew had prepared on Rocket God Gil. If Rudy had been serious about showing Algreil Aerospace''s products to best effect, he would have paid careful attention to those notes. He also would have read them in the weeks he''d spent hanging out with Chloe, tinkering with the Epee, looking into the mystery of Chloe''s captured parents, and playing the toughest random challenges he could program the company simulators for.


    Gil''s grinning, jowly face filled the little screen on Rudy''s left. ¡°You got your wish, Crimson Phoenix. You''re all mine.¡±


    Rudy laughed. ¡°Something like that.¡±


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    ¡°I don''t get you, birdy,¡± Gil continued. ¡°What makes a man so eager to get his scrawny ass beat down he challenges me in the first round?¡±


    ¡°Somebody told me that you''re mean to little girls.¡±


    ¡°The hell are you talking about?¡± Gil apparently didn''t catch the reference to his conversation with Chloe three weeks before.


    ¡°Look at it this way: I like a nice, easy warm-up before I take on somebody like Marcel Avalon.¡±


    ¡°Why you ¨C!¡±


    As he¡¯d expected, Rocket God Gil took the offensive, jetting forward at top speed. The massive mecha looked built for grappling. Rudy figured it weighed about four or five times as much as his Epee. If he allowed it to get a hold, it could probably crush critical systems.


    Gil came on fast. In an artificial anti-gravity environment, a lot of mass generally meant a lot of fuel, and so a lot of acceleration ¨C but not a lot of maneuverability.


    Rudy slow-burned left, firing off barely enough to begin the acceleration process. His initial motion would be almost imperceptible, but it got him going in the right direction.


    Abruptly, he willed his thrusters up to full power.


    He juked left.


    As Rocket God Gil soared past, Rudy snagged the bigger mecha by one massive arm and gave it a hard wrench. It shuddered from the impact and started skewing toward him, until Gil fired his gargantuan main thruster and reversed their course.


    A boxy free hand swung toward Rudy, palm open for a grab.


    He relinquished his hold and pushed off from the arm he¡¯d damaged. As he sailed backwards, he fired off a couple of missiles. They were mostly for clearing out marines, unlikely to harm a mecha¡¯s exterior ¨C hell, they weren¡¯t likely to do a lot of harm to its inner workings ¨C but the force of their launch gave Rudy a little extra acceleration.


    Rocket God Gil reversed his course.


    Predictable, Rudy thought.


    As he¡¯d expected, even the cream of the local crop wasn¡¯t much to write home about.


    The bigger mecha lunged.


    Rudy let himself drift left again.


    He watched his opponent adjusting, prepared to receive the same kind of attack. It didn¡¯t seem much the worse for wear from his opening move. Most of the dents and bangs on its surface came from the preliminaries.


    Rudy figured it was more of an endurance design. A good choice for an inferior pilot who expected to face even more inferior pilots.


    Rather than repeat his previous maneuver, Rudy abruptly reversed the flow of his thrusters and threw the shifting momentum into a kick. It smacked just underneath Rocket God Gil¡¯s chest plate, sending a webwork of cracks through the weaker armor.


    Both mecha hurtled away from the impact. Rudy would have been content to let it carry him to a good position from which to survey the action.


    He was equally content to let Rocket God Gil blast back toward him.


    Rudy slammed away two flailing grabs and loosed the Epee¡¯s claws. He launched a slash at the bigger mecha¡¯s right shoulder and was rewarded with the sight of shredding metal. He twisted.


    One of Rocket God Gil¡¯s arms hurtled toward the magnetic field separating Rudy¡¯s match from his neighbors.


    The other clamped around the back of Rudy¡¯s Epee.


    He grunted as the bigger mecha, obviously designed to kill in just such a manner, hauled him closer. Even with its inferior technology and but a single arm, it managed to smash him against its chest plate.


    He¡¯d expected as much.


    What he hadn¡¯t expected was the brace of rockets exploding from launchers in Gil''s chestplate.


    Armor integrity dropping, the message on his HUD read, estimated seventy two seconds to dangerous breach.


    Clever. Gil''s armor was, if not stronger, at least a hell of a lot thicker than Rudy''s. Exploding dumb-fire rockets into the space between them would crack the Epee open before it did the Rocket God, to say nothing of the less advanced machines Gil usually beat up on. If both the bigger mecha''s arms had held Rudy in a death grip ¨C


    But they didn''t. Just one couldn''t pin him, and rockets, even a lot of them, took time to bust through mecha armor. Rudy would dispense with Rocket God Gil long before his arsenal did more than heat up their hulls.


    Wait, what?


    Exploding rockets shouldn''t be imparting so much heat.


    The Epee''s cockpit flashed the same lurid red as its paint job. For one horrible moment, Rudy thought the coolant had failed again.


    Gil''s grinning face filled his communication window. ¡°How do you like them incendiaries my boys dug up? I loaded ''em special for you, birdy.¡±


    Shit! So much for the big dumb Rocket God.


    Rudy supposed he should have watched some of his opponent''s matches, after all.


    The HUD just had to add, Estimated five seconds to forfeit due to overheating.


    Crap.


    Four seconds.


    Only one arm held him, so he had, if not options, at least a chance. Three seconds. With his free hand, he dug his claws into the crack he¡¯d already made in the opposing mecha¡¯s stomach armor. Two seconds. They passed through the damaged composite plating as easily as through paper.


    He wrenched the chestplate upwards, simultaneously firing all his thrusters.


    Gil''s grin slipped. He flicked a panicked glance at his instruments.


    ¡°I like ''them incendiaries'' just fine, Gil,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Hope you do, too.¡±


    An explosion of incendiary jelly erupted from Rocket God Gil''s missile stores.


    Rudy''s Epee cartwheeled backwards. He stabilized himself in a crouch and killed the thrusters. In vacuum, even the incendiary jelly only burned for an instant. The Epee''s coolant system stabilized with a second to spare.


    Rocket God Gil careened upwards from the explosion. His mecha thudded against the upper limits of the magnetic field and hung there. Only the curses streaming through Rudy''s communications suite told him the Wellach Cup Champion was still alive. His machine sure as hell wasn''t.


    Rudy allowed himself a breath, and a glance at his systems.


    He¡¯d underestimated, if not the skill, at least the cleverness of his opening bout opponent. Otto would be shaking his head in disgust.


    He¡¯d be right.

 Chapter 12: Rival Battle

    Chapter 12: Rival Battle


    Ellie never took great pleasure in her husband''s collection of mecha tournament recordings. She usually napped through them. Seeing such an event in person might have done wonders for her opinion of the sport.


    Seeing it from the private booth of Otto Aber Algreil cemented her dislike.


    She wished she could speak openly to Jack about the conditions of their captivity, or about Chloe¡¯s fate.


    Any time she opened her mouth to speak, she felt electric blue eyes on her and fell silent.


    After the shock of the initial attack, Ellie had been injected with powerful Limiters. She¡¯d hardly had time to think before her entire nervous system was overwhelmed with numbing waves of endorphins. She¡¯d woken from her stupor the next day in a plain, unmarked cell. Outside the gravity field holding her in, she¡¯d seen the Algreil Aerospace logo. She¡¯d called out, but no one had answered.


    For days, the Algreil corporate security men had asked her about Chloe. Then they injected her with what she at first took for more limiters, but soon discovered were simple indicators. When her brainwaves indicated the kind of thought that went into a lie, they flashed red.


    Ellie insisted she didn¡¯t know where Chloe was. True. She claimed she had no idea. False. She eventually admitted Chloe had left the Mother Goose to look for a memorabilia shop. True. And, perhaps, for other employ so what had happened to she and Jack wouldn¡¯t happen. True.


    ¡°For all I know,¡± Ellie had said, ¡°she¡¯s already off this horrible planet.¡±


    That came up false. Ellie supposed, deep down, she didn¡¯t really think Chloe would leave without finding out what had happened to her and Jack.


    She glanced at him.


    He looked more tense and angry than worried.


    He also, she noticed with a flash of anger, looked like he was watching the matches below as intently as his former commander.


    She gripped his hand and hissed, ¡°How can you pay attention to that nonsense at a time like this?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°What else are we supposed to do?¡±


    ¡°Jack¡­¡±


    ¡°Colonel Hughes has a good eye for mechaneering,¡± Otto Algreil said. ¡°Since none of us can effect any change in our status at the moment, he¡¯s spending his time in the most productive manner available ¨C observing potential competitors.¡±


    Ellie glared daggers at the Oligarch.


    He shrugged.


    ¡°Otto¡¯s right, Ellie,¡± Jack said, sighing. ¡°You and me may as well enjoy the show, ¡®cause we¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±


    Ellie recalled how nonchalantly Otto had turned Jack¡¯s punch and sent him reeling. Jack knew his way around a fight, with or without a mecha, but the Oligarch made him look helpless.


    She supposed both men had a point.


    It didn¡¯t mean she could relax, though.


    ¡°Why does Mr. Algreil include himself in the category of those who can¡¯t change their status,¡± she asked. ¡°I would think with his great influence he could do whatever he wanted.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d think so, eh?¡±


    ¡°Otto can¡¯t do anything but wait for Chloe,¡± Jack said.


    Ellie stiffened. ¡°You don¡¯t intend to let him ¨C¡±


    ¡°Not a chance in hell.¡±


    She was surprised at how little the Oligarch reacted. He seemed to have lost all interest in their conversation.


    ¡°There¡¯re no secrets we could keep from him and not a damn thing we can do to him,¡± Jack said. ¡°Might as well speak freely.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t speak at all with him watching us,¡± Ellie spat.


    ¡°I have no intention of watching you,¡± Otto said, his attention fixed on the arena. ¡°With a rematch between the Divine Auric Drake and the Crimson Phoenix coming up, this tournament actually looks something more than pathetic. Besides, I¡¯m interested in that Black Rook. Takes a hell of a mechaneer to make it this far in a Civil War line mecha.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of him either?¡± Jack asked.


    ¡°Not a word.¡±


    Ellie spared a glance at the four mecha still in the tournament. Three of the losers had departed under their own power, and the last had been hauled out by a pair of civilian machines that looked painfully similar to Goslings Two and Three.


    Of the four remaining, the resplendent black and gold military mecha looked the most impressive. Two of the others were considerably smaller, one black, one sleek silver. The last, a tall, somewhat ungainly machine, struck her as absurd with its garish red paint.


    She said as much.


    ¡°The machine¡¯s good,¡± Otto said, ¡°but the pilot is embarrassing his family.¡±


    Ellie looked to Jack.


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    ¡°His little brother,¡± Jack said.


    Ellie, recalling girlhood with seven siblings, understood immediately.


    Then she cocked her head and pointed to the black-and-gold standout. ¡°Why is such an advanced-looking military mecha here?¡±


    ¡°The same reason all Otto can do is wait,¡± Jack said. ¡°¡®Cause the Feds came in about fifteen seconds behind him and scooped up the Goose with a goddamn destroyer, that¡¯s why.¡±


    ¡°A destroyer!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the Reformer. That¡¯s Second Admiral Marcel Avalon out there, calls himself the ¡®Divine Auric Drake.¡¯ Otto claims the Feds are after Chloe, too. I figure it¡¯s probably true, what with that damn Animus Hunter.¡±


    ¡°As you can see,¡± Otto said, ¡°all I want is for you to help me help you.¡±


    Somehow, Ellie didn¡¯t feel convinced. ¡°Why did you drug me into a stupor, then? Why don¡¯t you let us stay together? Why am I kept under lock and key like ¨C¡±


    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Like an animal?¡±


    Ellie¡¯s hands shook. She fought the urge to lunge over and rip at the oligarch¡¯s throat ¨C she resisted only because she knew she¡¯d never succeed.


    Jack lay a hand on her shoulder and guided her into her chair. ¡°Take it easy, Ellie,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of provoking us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m merely expressing my views on a matter of public debate,¡± Otto said. ¡°Ain¡¯t democracy grand?¡±


    Ellie slumped back in the chair and hung her head.


    Jack¡¯s big fingers massaged the tension in her back, but for once they didn¡¯t help. Desperate for something to take her mind off the oligarch¡¯s presence, she turned her attention to the match.


    The two smaller mecha had paired off, which, to Ellie¡¯s eyes, made this second round a virtual lock to produce the actual champion. She couldn¡¯t imagine anyone beating the gilded mecha. She prayed Otto Algreil¡¯s brother wouldn¡¯t do so. She couldn''t wish anything good on the oligarch or his house.


    The arena''s idol-orchestra fanfare announced the commencement of the second round.


    Since she didn¡¯t see any hope for the smaller pair, Ellie concentrated on the real fight.


    The two mecha approached each other warily, their demeanor entirely without the aggression she¡¯d seen in the first round. The Algreil mecha ¨C the Crimson Phoenix, according to the program projected on the box''s windows ¨C assumed a stance she recognized as part of the Devil Ray martial disciplines; Jack used it on those rare occasions he¡¯d had to use Gosling One to fend off pirates. The navy admiral jetted forward with his spear-like monomolecular blade held crosswise before him.


    With a sudden burst of acceleration, the Crimson Phoenix shot forward. Ellie didn¡¯t even see him break his stance. Somehow, he managed to swing his mecha¡¯s spindly, thick-wristed arms into a parry to the Divine Auric Drake¡¯s thrust and then to strike the black and gold mecha¡¯s chest before it could recover.


    They spun about, both resuming their stances almost before Ellie could see them.


    ¡°What a waste,¡± Jack said. ¡°He shoulda tried for a head shot, gotten a quick kill.¡±


    Otto nodded. ¡°I wish I could say he¡¯s only doing it to give the company¡¯s new model a better showing, but truth is, he¡¯s just a cocky little prick.¡±


    Ellie stared at the men. She¡¯d never seen better piloting, and they were calling it trash!


    She looked back to the battle.


    The mecha had circled, the black and gold machine spinning its weapon behind it. In the anti-gravity sphere in which they fought, they moved without even using their legs, like men duelling in water.


    ¡°He¡¯s weak from the above-left with that stance,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°You expect someone with a moniker like Crimson Phoenix to, you know, actually use the vertical axis? You obviously don¡¯t know my brother.¡±


    ¡°How the hell did he place on Etemenos?¡±


    ¡°This is what we¡¯re reduced to,¡± Otto said, sighing.


    The mecha passed, out of reach for the Algreil machine but close enough for the Divine Auric Drake to lash out with his long-hafted weapon.


    He must have missed, because they slid to opposite sides of the field and righted their courses.


    The next exchange came more quickly. Contrary to Jack and Otto¡¯s assessment, at least one of the pair actually employed his machine¡¯s ability to fly up and down. The Divine Auric Drake rolled upwards and banked in for a downward cut.


    Though she wanted the Fed to win, Ellie winced when his blade cut home. Surely it had bisected the cockpit, and anyone inside it.


    The Crimson Phoenix didn¡¯t crumple.


    The Divine Auric Drake shuddered.


    Ellie¡¯s ear twitched in confusion.


    She spared Jack a glance. He was nodding, apparently satisfied with something.


    She whispered, ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Watch, Hon,¡± Jack said.


    Watch she did.


    Slowly, inexorably, the blade lifted. A pair of red mecha hands clasped it from both sides. Its deadly monomolecular edge, the reason it could cut through a mecha''s superdense composite plates, was cupped harmlessly between the Crimson Phoenix¡¯s palms.


    ¡°That¡¯s some kinda reflexes your brother¡¯s got,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°He¡¯s got potential,¡± Otto allowed. ¡°Wasted potential, but potential all the same.¡±


    The monomolecular blade wrenched from its haft. When the Crimson Phoenix released it, it drifted harmlessly toward one of the magnetic fields partitioning the arena.


    Ellie asked, ¡°Is it over?¡±


    ¡°Depends on how Admiral Avalon takes it,¡± Jack said. ¡°Otto?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not the type to back down, even if he is sloppy. Besides, he¡¯s got a score to settle with Rudy.¡±


    As predicted, the Divine Auric Drake launched a series of snap kicks at the Crimson Phoenix. His thrusters flared to keep him in reach as each blow sent shudders down both mecha.


    Ellie didn¡¯t see how any machine could survive such a pounding, but the Crimson Phoenix rolled with the blows as deftly as any man on foot. After the fifth strike, he jetted left. The sixth blow crashed home without the almost palatable force of its predecessor, and rather than simply roll with it, the Crimson Phoenix launched his counterattack.


    The Divine Auric Drake¡¯s leg wrenched at an odd angle. Ellie winced, wondering if Admiral Avalon used a direct neural interface and, as such, felt injuries to his machine as to himself.


    If he did, he didn¡¯t show it. His fist shot out and caught the small of the Crimson Phoenix¡¯s elbow, driving the vulnerable point against his own unnaturally extended leg. Before the punch could even show its effects, he reversed it and thrust a slap into the red mecha¡¯s face.


    The Crimson Phoenix reeled. His left arm hung useless from the elbow down, and he stumbled backwards, apparently dazed.


    The Divine Auric Drake gave him no time to recover. He pounced, his thrusters firing at full power, his hands outstretched.


    They collided.


    Ellie looked away.


    ¡°Heh,¡± said Otto.


    Ellie risked a glance.


    The Divine Auric Drake¡¯s chestplate had crumpled beneath a perfectly timed right jab and his own momentum.


    Slowly, he drifted back and sank to a kneeling position.


    The Crimson Phoenix reached out and gripped the black and gold mecha¡¯s head. His fingers tightened. Claws slid from them, slicing flakes of armor away.


    Ellie gulped. Did he mean to kill the admiral? From what she¡¯d seen of Otto Algreil, she could well imagine a member of his family killing an opponent in cold blood.


    Then a buzzer sounded.


    The Crimson Phoenix stepped back and nodded.


    The Divine Auric Drake straightened up and returned the nod.

 Chapter 13: No-Name

    Chapter 13: No-Name


    ¡°Fifteen minutes,¡± shouted the pit boss, a short, grizzled engineer in Algreil Aerospace overalls. If he had a name other than ''Boss,'' Chloe hadn''t heard anyone, even Rudy, use it.


    The cockpit of the Epee hissed open. Chloe, positioned near the machine''s shoulders so she could rush in and direct the coolant flow, watched Rudy stumble out of the cockpit and grip the edges.


    ¡°Are you all right?¡± she called.


    He gulped down a breath before he could nod. ¡°Hell of a neural feedback, though. I feel like I got the shit kicked out of me.¡±


    ¡°Admiral Avalon''s quite a mechaneer,¡± Chloe said. ¡°I¡¯m amazed you won. That move where you grabbed the blade ¨C¡±


    ¡°Risky and stupid,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Bastard would¡¯ve killed me if I¡¯d mistimed it by half a second.¡±


    Chloe bit back the rest of her commentary.


    The Epee looked as bad as Rudy claimed to feel ¨C though the neural feedback from each blow should have numbed after a single warning burst to his pain receptors, and vanished entirely once he was out of the cockpit. The mecha''s chest armor was a mess, badly dented from Avalon¡¯s kicks. Its left arm hung askew, and Chloe could see places where the joint actuators had blown entirely.


    Still, under the circumstances, she thought the machine had held up pretty well. The pit crew swarmed over the broken arm. Even if they couldn¡¯t get it operational again, they should be able to restore enough movement for Rudy to use it as a club. The chest armor wouldn¡¯t stand up to another barrage like Avalon¡¯s, but she figured Rudy could compensate against an inferior opponent.


    Rudy seemed less enthused. He sat at the edge of his cockpit, panting and scowling at some perceived failure.


    He seemed to be on track to winning. Wasn¡¯t that what he wanted?


    Chloe saw no way to raise his spirits. At least she could do something for his machine.


    She¡¯d pressed the remote for the fuel and coolant assembly almost without thinking about it. Quickly, she fitted a vibrating release to the intake valve. It hissed, so she replaced the release and pulled out an automatic wrench to slide the cap off. By then, the nozzle for the coolant ¨C she quickly checked the color-coded band ¨C dangled within reach, so she clasped it and attached it to the open valve.


    The tube jerked, and coolant began to pump. Chloe watched the flow carefully. After what she¡¯d seen from the first two rounds, she was even more convinced the Epee¡¯s coolant system had a tendency to overextend. She hardly tapped the nozzle before shutting it off and releasing it again.


    She felt Rudy¡¯s eyes on her and mouthed, ¡°Trust me.¡±


    He didn''t look like he did, but he managed a shrug ¨C and kept his complaints to himself.


    The liquid fuel for his thrusters took longer to top off, but Chloe understood why the pit crew took the time to fill them. Rudy hadn¡¯t used extreme amounts of fuel, but only because his fighting style discouraged doing so. If pressed, he might need every last drop as he maneuvered for an advantage.


    Personally, Chloe didn¡¯t much care for the Epee. She had no doubt Rudy¡¯s first two matches would look good in promotional films for the machine. They wouldn¡¯t show its tendency to run hot or the hefty fuel requirements of its six thruster-wings.


    She supposed it was meant to operate as a carrier mecha, with almost as much fuel and coolant in combat as it would have in the arena, but to her transport-trained sensibilities, it seemed like a great waste ¨C and a great danger.


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    Since everyone around her worked for Algreil Aerospace, she kept her opinions to herself. The rest of the pit crew disliked her enough without hearing condemnations of their company''s product.


    She gave Rudy a thumbs-up. When she despaired of his returning the gesture, she descended the access ladder and watched the final preparations from an adjacent catwalk.


    Rudy slid back into the cockpit. It closed over him.


    The Epee hummed to life.


    It made a ponderous turn, barely keeping its feet within a normal gravity environment, and braced itself as the platform it stood on rose toward the arena''s circular gateway.


    As soon as Rudy stepped off the platform, whatever air had leaked in when he entered was suctioned out. With the gravity already artificially suppressed, the interior of the arena was a reasonable approximation of the void of space.


    Considering how much of space Chloe had seen, she had to wonder at the lengths the Wellach Cup¡¯s backers went to to reproduce it on the ground ¨C or over the water, as the case might be.


    She didn¡¯t need another glance at the stands to know how they managed to turn a profit, whatever their costs might be. Almost a complete sphere of seats engulfed the arena, those above with their gravity artificially set so they were looking ''up'' at the action. Chloe figured the Wellach Cup could seat two or three hundred thousand, and the seats, which couldn''t be cheap, were packed. She couldn¡¯t begin to fathom how much the space-station-like ring of logo-adorned sponsor''s boxes, each with a private dock for boats or aerospace craft, cost.


    She doubted the crowd would get their marks'' worth from the final bout of the tournament, but in truth a boring finale bothered her less than a dramatic one would have. Since she¡¯d committed to rooting for Rudy, she wanted nothing more than a rapid and successful conclusion to his matches. Every time he got hit, she winced.


    The Black Rook, his final opponent, piloted a thirteen-meter mecha that looked like a cross between a wasp and a suit of archaic plate armor. Chloe had seen two others of the same design lose earlier bouts, and neither had struck her as very impressive. Like most of the production model Civil War-era military machines, its equipment took the form of a mono-edged sword and an electromagnetic shield: sword and board, in mechaneer parlance.


    Chloe turned to the pit boss. ¡°Do you know anything about that pilot, Boss? He must be pretty good to have made it this far with an ordinary machine like that.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of him.¡± Four more words than the rest of the crew had deigned to say to her. She wondered, only half ironically, if they were warming to her.


    At a thought, her goggles played back recordings of the previous rounds. In both, the Black Rook seemed only just competent enough to overcome. The second battle in particular showed nothing impressive.


    Back in the moment, he bowed low to Rudy, a posture no mecha could manage except in the null gravity of space or faux-space.


    Rudy gave only a slight nod in return.


    Chloe supposed he¡¯d earned the right to condescend. After all, he¡¯d placed highly in the Etemenos Cup. Still, she wondered why he felt the need to antagonize his opponents.


    She called up a different angle of the Black Rook''s second-round battle with another Oligarchical test pilot, the Quicksilver Angel. Chloe felt spoiled for choice. The arena recorded from literally thousands of cameras so its editors could sell the best footage possible. Chloe ¨C not even a fan, the pit crew had said, and she couldn''t call them liars ¨C was a lot more glad of it than she usually would have been: something about the Black Rook''s fighting style struck her as odd.


    She watched him barely avoid what would surely have been a killing blow from the Quicksilver Angel''s bladed wings. The attack still scraped the side of the Black Rook''s mecha. Then he lashed out with his sword. The strike didn¡¯t look sound, but when the mecha parted, the Angel seemed to have gotten the worst of it.


    Chloe frowned.


    How had a glancing blow from a smaller machine done such damage?


    The fanfare sounded, but Chloe hardly spared the present battle a glance. Her curiosity compelled her to look at the Black Rook footage from a third angle, this time directly above.


    Her vision flashed from past to present.


    Rudy had just missed with a pair of punches, claws retracted. He stumbled left from a well-placed shield bash to the chest, but recovered as quickly.


    Nonetheless, a few seconds told Chloe what she¡¯d feared.


    Somehow, despite the differences in their equipment, the Black Rook had put the Crimson Phoenix on the defensive.


    She looked to her recording again.


    This time, she clearly saw a glossy black blade merely graze the Quicksilver Angel¡¯s side armor ¨C and saw the armor crumple as though it had been smashed by a destroyer¡¯s anti-mecha cannon.


    Rudy snapped a kick at the Black Rook, spun in the air and brought his other leg around.


    He missed.


    The Rook''s blade shot toward the weaker joint armor at the Epee¡¯s leg.

 Chapter 14: Black Rook

    Chapter 14: Black Rook


    Rudy spun away from a slash that might have cost him a leg, cursing viciously. He didn¡¯t so much mind the unexpected challenge ¨C if anything, the prospect of a disappointing final bout had annoyed him.


    He minded the feeling the Black Rook was merely toying with him.


    His sentiment redoubled when he heard a beep from his communications gear. He risked a glance ¨C private channel, direct beam.


    Not now, he thought.


    He looked back to the Black Rook. The black mecha had taken advantage of his distraction to withdraw almost to the far end of the arena, sword and board crossed over its chest. Like it was waiting for something.


    Rudy willed his communications array on.


    No image appeared, just a looming raven logo and a voice.


    ¡°You''re very good.¡± The Black Rook sported a strange accent, cultured, crisp and condescending.


    Rudy could picture him as a military academy instructor. He scowled.


    ¡°I''m also impressed by the synchronization between you and your machine. One of the new Algreil Aerospace Epees? By all accounts their neural interface is the most sophisticated in the Federated Stars. Derived from an Imperial design, isn''t it?¡±


    ¡°It has its moments,¡± Rudy snapped. ¡°Now quit screwing around.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid,¡± the Black Rook said, ¡°I can''t oblige.¡±


    His machine shot forward.


    Talk about synchronization, Rudy thought. He didn¡¯t know how the guy managed to squeeze so much out of a Civil War relic. Its neural interface had to be a full replacement job.


    Rudy didn¡¯t bother with the old slow burn trick, knowing it wouldn¡¯t work against this opponent. Instead, he adjusted his position back a dozen meters, then abruptly reversed course.


    He hoped to catch the Black Rook off guard.


    No such luck.


    The Epee crashed into its opponent and rebounded off his shield. Rudy tried to grab the invisible barrier to get a better feel for its size, but his mecha¡¯s hands closed over empty vacuum. He tumbled past, firing his thrusters to right his course before he suffered the indignity of striking the edge of the arena.


    The Black Rook hadn¡¯t even tried to press his advantage.


    ¡°Stop playing with me,¡± Rudy said. ¡°This is a tournament, not a martial arts demonstration. You¡¯re good enough to win, so win, damn you.¡±


    ¡°Not at all. You''ll find me more adept defensively than offensively,¡± the Black Rook said. He maneuvered closer, shield held before him. ¡°Until you can prove my tactics are ineffective against you, why should I change?¡±


    Rudy lunged for him.


    He dodged.


    Dammit!


    Rather than pull back for another run, Rudy reversed momentum, gritting his teeth at the gees his cockpit¡¯s inertial dampeners failed to suppress. He managed to snag the Black Rook by the arm.


    The Epee¡¯s claws slid out.


    They didn¡¯t sink into composite armor.


    Rudy¡¯s eyes widened.


    Had something gone wrong with the claw mechanism?


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    Before he could test his other hand, the Black Rook twisted from his grasp.


    ¡°Just who the hell are you?¡±


    ¡°Consider me a¡­ concerned party.¡±


    ¡°A what?¡±


    Rudy didn¡¯t care about the guy¡¯s looks, but he sure wished he could read his expressions. Damn that bastard for not switching to visual feed! His words betrayed no hint of emotion.


    Whatever Rudy wished, he wasn¡¯t going to get it.


    He glanced at the Epee¡¯s readings. He¡¯d expended more thruster fuel than he liked, but at least the coolant seemed to be working fine. Of course, he hadn¡¯t exactly put it through his paces the way he had in his battle with Avalon.


    ¡°You seem so impatient, Crimson Phoenix,¡± the Black Rook said, ¡°and your mecha must expend a great deal of fuel. Hadn''t you better attack?¡±


    ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t want to play your game anymore.¡±


    ¡°The thought had occurred to me.¡±


    The Black Rook shot forward, faster than Rudy imagined possible on such minimal thrusters. He must¡¯ve changed the fuel for something faster-burning, although the Epee''s sensors didn''t seem to think so. Rudy was starting to wonder if someone on his pit crew hadn''t compromised his mecha''s main computer.


    He just managed to slap aside the Rook''s plunging sword. He punched, claws-out, but his blow must¡¯ve missed; he didn¡¯t feel the jarring impact that would have come from contact, whether the blades worked or not.


    ¡°As you can see, I''m less accomplished on the attack,¡± the Black Rook said. ¡°In fact, I may have to forfeit rather than risk another assault.¡±


    Rudy gritted his teeth. Even losing wasn¡¯t as embarrassing as having an obviously superior opponent forfeit. Right now, it would look like some kind of setup.


    Otto would bust a gasket over that.


    The Black Rook apparently wasn¡¯t ready to throw in the towel, because he kept jawing. ¡°By the way, your stance interests me. It''s the style of the Algreil Devil Rays, under Otto Aber Algreil, yes?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it to you,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°I simply wanted to compliment your form. The style has lost none of its potency in the years since I last saw it.¡±


    ¡°Watch more tournaments, then. The Etemenos Cup, for starters.¡±


    ¡°Ah, of course. The Crimson Phoenix is noted for always finishing second at that tournament.¡±


    Technically, Rudy couldn¡¯t see the other man¡¯s smarmy smile, but he could sure as hell imagine it. He¡¯d seen its like often enough.


    He shot forward.


    A millisecond away from impacting on the Black Rook¡¯s shield, he throttled back and launched a volley of rockets from the Epee¡¯s wrists. They overshot ¨C of course ¨C before their radar guidance systems cut in and curled them into the Rook''s exposed back.


    For once, Rudy seemed to have caught his opponent by surprise. The Black Rook slammed forward into his fists with an impact that sent shudders down both of them. He pistoned another punch into the black mecha, spun into a kick that sent it reeling, rocketed forward ¨C


    And, somehow, managed to miss.


    He gasped in pain and shock. It passed after a fraction of a second, but the memory lingered. Rudy fought the urge to grab at his shoulder ¨C where, he''d felt, his arm had been cleanly sliced away.


    Rudy''s arm remained, of course. The Epee''s on the other hand... The mecha''s severed limb cartwheeled toward the edge of the arena.


    ¡°Bastard!" Rudy lunged at the black mecha, filling the vacuum with missiles, busting chaff capsules to cloud his opponent''s sensors. He moved on pure feel now, feel and fury and the memory of pain. His eyes clouded as red as his battered armor.


    He snagged the Black Rook and yanked forward.


    Metal flashed in the Wellach sun.


    A third of the Epee''s left leg spiraled away.


    More pain.


    Rudy didn''t give a damn.


    He locked his remaining fist on the back of the Black Rook''s head and slammed the mechas'' impassive faces together. Twice. Three times. Rudy felt as dizzy as if he''d smashed his own skull against a mecha''s, but he kept it up.


    Rudy bared his teeth, halfway between grin and snarl. He felt blood oozing from his lip. Must''ve bit it. Bad.


    He didn''t give a damn about that either.


    The Epee''s upper legs, one of them trailing sparks and coolant, pinned the smaller mecha. He gave it another smack, head to head. Then he pulled.


    This time, it was the Black Rook''s sword arm that went flying, wrenched clean off by the Epee''s more advanced artificial muscles. If the pilot had a neural interface hooked up, he had to be in screaming agony.


    Sucks to be him, Rudy thought.


    He gripped the black mecha''s throat.


    The Black Rook reached up its remaining arm, haltingly.


    ¡°Surrender, you cocky bastard," Rudy growled. He wasn''t sure if the comlink was even still working. He wasn''t sure he cared.


    The Black Rook''s hand shook as he extended it, palm out, as though to stave off Rudy''s finishing blow.


    Then Rudy''s world went haywire.

 Chapter 15: Collapse

    Chapter 15: Collapse


    ¡°The hell ¨C!" Jack and Otto shouted at the same time. They leaped from their chairs.


    The Crimson Phoenix rammed into the arena''s magnetic field without so much as a twitch from the Black Rook. Two of the Epee''s wings crumpled; a third exploded when its fuel touched off.


    ¡°Nob," Otto hissed.


    ¡°He wouldn''t dare ¨C"


    ¡°He damn well did," the Oligarch said. He slammed his hand on the emergency comlink on the railing. ¡°Boss, get Rudy the hell out of there. Yesterday." His hand flew to another comlink. ¡°Garcia, Albrecht, get your mecha over the arena. And prep my machine!"


    It had all happened so fast, Ellie only now joined Jack at the railing. Her eyes were huge, fixed on the arena. ¡°Jack, what''s going on?"


    ¡°The ''Black Rook'' is a damned nob," Jack said. ¡°Looks like he''s planning on killing Otto''s little brother ¨C and probably us, too."


    Ellie gasped.


    ¡°Speaking of which, Jack," Otto said, ¡°you and¡­ and your wife had better evac." But for a moment''s hesitation, he didn''t even sound sarcastic.


    Jack spared his former boss a glance. That was the Otto he knew and¡­ well, respected as much as he hated. Pragmatism before philosophy. The Oligarch knew they didn''t have time for an argument about Ellie''s status.


    Admittedly, Jack wouldn''t have been dumb enough to start one with a nob on the rampage.


    ¡°But, Jack ¨C"


    ¡°No time for argument, Hon. This place is gonna be a war zone once backup gets here."


    ¡°I think it already is."


    Jack followed Ellie''s pointing finger.


    The Crimson Phoenix, minus an arm, half his thrusters and a third of a leg, was living up to his name.


    Spinning like a top as he perfectly timed shots from his unbalanced thrusters, he rolled to where the Black Rook''s sword arm drifted. He pried the monomolecular blade loose in one pass, bounced against the edge of the arena, leaped back in on pure momentum so he didn''t need the thrusters.


    The Black Rook''s outstretched palm swung around.


    ¡°Goddamn fool kid," Otto whispered, unaware or uncaring that his brother couldn''t hear him, ¡°get out of there."


    The blast of telekinetic energy shook the arena. Ellie grabbed Jack. Jack grabbed the railing. Otto nearly fell trying to roll with it, apparently unable to tear his eyes from the scene.


    The Crimson Phoenix juked left and used the wave''s wake to roll him further forward.


    His slash took off the Black Rook''s left leg.


    The impact whirled him around. He helped the spin with a short thruster blast, sped it up by another brace of missiles ¨C


    Hit a solid plane of force.


    The Black Rook extended one finger and tapped the chestplate of the Crimson Phoenix.


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    The Epee shuddered. Its remaining arm and legs shot straight out, pinned by invisible forces.


    Missiles shot from the Crimson Phoenix''s wrists, exploded harmlessly on the Black Rook''s telekinetic shield.


    Sound couldn''t travel through the artificial vacuum of the arena, but Jack could hear in his mind the Epee''s limbs wrenching away under pure mental force.


    Ellie buried her face in Jack''s chest.


    Jack wanted to look away, but this sight he''d hoped never to see again, kept his gaze riveted.


    That''s enough.


    For a minute, Jack thought the voice came from the booth, even spared a glance behind him. Empty. Of course, he thought. Telepathy.


    Expecting attack, he tried to summon the mental disciplines he''d learned in the Devil Rays.


    You should not have come back, the voice boomed. Jack shuddered. He recognized that voice. Not as a noble''s, either.


    ¡°Aw, hell," he whispered.


    Ellie looked up. He caught her eye, saw she also recognized the voice.


    The electromagnetic field above the arena rippled, the air outside weirdly compressed as artificial electrons struggled against purely natural psions. The electrons lost. Only the rush of air was visible at first.


    At first.


    A second black mecha unfolded the web of light-bending psions comprising its ''cloak.''


    This one was larger than the Black Rook, eighteen meters from spiked feet to horned helmet, matte black as the dark between the stars rather than shining like crow''s feathers. Its flaring shoulderblades seemed to absorb the light from Wellach''s sun.


    Your appearance here is very foolish, Inspector ¨C Animus Hunter ¨C Errard Zelph''s measured mental voice repeated, apparently directing the thoughts at the Black Rook but not caring if they spilled over into the crowd. But I must confess I am glad of the exercise.


    The Black Rook''s mind answered. Then you''re a bigger fool than I thought, traitor.


    I am not the one who let that child cost me an arm and a leg.


    Zelph waved his mecha''s hand. The psions gathering in his grip absorbed the light, forming a spear of solid darkness. He hurled it at the Black Rook ¨C on a path straight through the Crimson Phoenix.


    With a gesture, the Rook tore an arm from the ruined Epee and interposed it between the two damaged mecha and Zelph''s. The weapon''s remnants faded before it fully penetrated the limb.


    Black Rook''s turn. With a wave of his one good hand, he sent another shudder through the arena''s gravity field. Jack didn''t get what he was doing ¨C


    ¨C until the Algreil box''s window imploded.


    In a fraction of a second, a billion shards of reinforced one-way glass shot unhindered through the gravity field, carried by telekinesis and the air the broken artificial vacuum sucked in after them, to coil into a whirlwind around all three mecha. Jack could hardly see them for the storm of shards.


    No problem. He''d seen enough already. Animus Hunters against nobles in a confined space sounded like a recipe for collateral damage. He didn''t plan on letting Ellie be part of the tally. ¡°Come on, Hon. We gotta run."


    ¡°But, that pilot, Otto''s brother ¨C"


    ¡°Had better be crazy lucky.¡± Jack gripped his wife''s shoulders. ¡°Ellie, I''m only gonna say this once, and you''re only gonna have to hear it once ¨C run."


    Ellie took a step toward the suite doors ¨C and said the one word that could bring him up short: ¡°Where?"


    Jack whirled on Otto. ¡°You heard the lady. How the hell do we get out of here?"


    Otto didn''t respond. He stared at the ruin of his brother''s mecha, tumbling toward the bottom of the arena as the anti-gravity sphere lost containment on Wellach''s natural forces.


    Instinctive defenses be damned, Jack grabbed the Oligarch''s shoulder.


    That snapped Otto out of his funk, all right. He checked his spin just in time to keep from wrenching Jack''s arm from its socket. Oligarch and former subordinate locked gazes.


    ¡°If you wanna die here ''cause you think you sent your little bro into a deathtrap, I ain''t gonna stop you, old buddy," Jack said. ¡°But me and Ellie aren''t sticking around to watch the fireworks."


    Otto glared. His gaze started to shift back to the arena.


    Jack tried to slap him. He failed, of course, and got his arm batted painfully away by a casual flick that would likely turn into a purple bruise by morning, but he kept the Oligarch''s attention.


    ¡°How," Jack said, low and slow, ¡°do we get out of here?"


    Otto said, ¡°Follow me."

 Chapter 16: Emergency Service

    Chapter 16: Emergency Service


    Chloe screamed. Because Rudy''s dismembered mecha was tumbling toward her? Because it had been dismembered? Because the latest black mecha assaulting the arena could only belong to an Animus Hunter?


    ''All of the above'' seemed as good a choice as any.


    ¡°Get that platform up," Boss snarled. ¡°If ¨C hell, when the field goes, we don''t want Mr. Algreil falling farther than he has to. Move, you wretches!"


    The rest of the crew moved, all right ¨C toward the smaller personnel lifts to the arena exits. Their fear of being crushed by the falling mecha or in the ensuing clash of titans apparently overwhelmed their fear of Boss''s snarls.


    None of them stayed with the elevator platform.


    Chloe slid down the ladder she''d been sitting on, leaped the last ten rungs, hit the ground running. She sprinted to the platform control console. Her hands flew across it, so fast it seemed to her it started moving even before she got there.


    Her thoughts caught up with her about the time the platform started its terribly slow rise to the arena. She spared a glance at the distance she''d jumped. Principle! She was lucky she hadn''t broken a leg.


    ¡°You got plenty of guts, girl," Boss said between gasps. He''d been closer to the console and made the same run for it, but he was almost three times her age and almost as overweight as he was muscular. ¡°Or plenty of stupid."


    ¡°Definitely stupid," Chloe said.


    He barked a laugh.


    Swallowed it as the electromagnetic field above them shuddered again.


    ¡°What happens if he falls?"


    ¡°You won''t have time to worry about it," Boss said. ¡°So don''t. Plenty to worry about if he doesn''t."


    ¡°Emergency releases," Chloe said.


    ¡°And coolant. Spray the whole monster with it when it comes down. I told the eggheads it ran hot. But they don''t have to deal with it coming in damaged, now do they?"


    Chloe felt gratified to hear the senior mechanic agree with her unspoken conclusions about the Epee. She suspected he''d have kept his opinion to himself if he''d known she shared it. ¡°I''ll get the coolant." She''d already seen which of them could move faster, and she already knew how to work the hose.


    She didn''t ask what Rudy''s chances were.


    She didn''t ask what hers'' and Boss''s were, either.


    She suspected both answers would be along the lines of ''slim to none.''


    The field above buckled again as noble and Animus Hunter bombarded each other with telekinetic force. The arena, what little Chloe could see past the Epee''s wreckage, blurred with dark shapes and shimmering glass.


    She wondered how long the structure itself would hold, wished she hadn''t.


    She tried to focus on prepping the coolant tube. Failed. Her thoughts kept drifting to the packed stands. So many people ¨C! Why would a noble come here? Why would an Animus Hunter?


    For the same reason?


    For her?


    She shuddered.


    So did the arena.


    So much for the electromagnetic field.


    The Epee, exposed to a full gee it was never meant to operate in, tumbled almost half the shaft to the still-rising platform, crunching horribly. If the mecha had been a person, it would have been dead a dozen times over, but the stumps of its limbs still twitched with artificial muscle.


    Could Rudy survive that?


    Would it be kinder if he hadn''t?


    ¡°Boss," Chloe cried.


    ¡°Coming down," the pit boss said. His hands didn''t fly across the controls, but he wasted a lot less time fussing with things he didn''t need. The platform shook again, started to lower toward them.


    Chloe had to fight the urge to look away from the mecha''s remains as it came into view. Its red armor looked too much like Rudy''s flight suit. In her mind''s eye, she saw the mechaneer lying broken and dead like his machine.


    Which would happen for sure, she reminded herself, if she and Boss couldn''t get him out of the Epee before its shattered engines overheated.


    She yanked the coolant tube up and shoved its control gauge to full. The force of the superconductive fluid erupting from the nozzle almost pushed her from the gangplank. She clung to the hose for dear life, guiding it more with her legs than her arms.


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    Coolant splashed and sizzled. The hiss of smoke joined the cacophony from above.


    Chloe angled the coolant along a path from the gangplank to the cockpit. For a wonder, the piloting compartment seemed untouched by the structural damage wracking the rest of the mecha.


    The fluid stopped roaring through the tube.


    Chloe and Boss exchanged glances.


    If they''d run out of coolant, either the tank leaked ¨C


    ¨C or arena security had drawn it to fight fires up above.


    All those people, Chloe thought again. Merciful Principle, don''t let that be the pattern of their days!


    She couldn''t do anything for them, though. She still might be able to for Rudy.


    She grasped the useless coolant tube as tightly as she could, sucked in a deep breath ¨C


    Jumped off the railing.


    The tube swung around on its gurney, like an acrobat''s rope on a carnival ship. Except for the absence of an anti-gravity safety field, anyway. Or anything like a decent handhold.


    For once, Chloe''s worries proved unfounded. She slid off just where she wanted to be, almost to the Epee''s cockpit.


    Despite the coolant spray, the heat sizzling through her boots and wafting from the mecha''s chest made her wince. Gingerly, she sprinted across it.


    She realized she''d come unarmed ¨C useless. ¡°Boss," she shouted ¨C even raising her voice, she could hardly hear over the maelstrom above ¨C ¡°toss me an emergency release!"


    ¡°Too far, girl," Boss shouted back.


    ¡°Just trust me!" She had a hunch.


    He muttered something impolite, and he kept clambering toward her with a second release tucked into his vest ¨C but he threw.


    Boss hung from the side of the Epee, wore thick thermal gloves, and, if his form was any indication, hadn''t been much of a grenadier in the Civil War.


    The emergency release landed perfectly in Chloe''s outstretched hand.


    She shouted her thanks and crouched over the cockpit. Sweat ran down her arms and face as she worked the vibrating release. Absurdly, she realized she was whispering thanks to Rudy for getting her hair done; with her old style, she''d have been blinded by sweat-soaked bangs.


    The cockpit''s hydraulics hissed.


    Chloe stumbled back, singeing her hands on the hull when she landed. She hardly noticed. She sprang forward and looked in, terrified of what she''d see, knowing she didn''t have time for terror.


    Rudy lay in the cockpit.


    He looked unhurt.


    He wasn''t moving.


    Chloe jumped down. She tore at the safety belts holding him into his pilot''s chair and the neural links running from his crimson flight suit. She grabbed his shoulders.


    She worked up the courage to listen for his heartbeat. Breathed a sigh of relief.


    Not that his being alive meant he would stay that way, if she couldn''t get him out. The cockpit temperature climbed every second she crouched in it; if she took too long, it would sear her hands to useless if she tried to climb out and they would both burn alive.


    Her grip tightened. Gingerly, she bent forward and hefted Rudy over her shoulder as best she could.


    His weight pushed her against the mecha''s screens. She hissed when her back, sans a temperature-controlling flight suit, brushed the hot metal.


    ¡°Wake up, Rudy," she pleaded. ¡°I don''t know if I can lift you."


    Whatever had knocked him out ¨C a blow to the head or overloaded synapses, she figured, and prayed it was the latter ¨C had done a number on him. He didn''t so much as twitch.


    Chloe gulped down a breath. The air was getting hot now, too. Breathing hurt. Bracing Rudy between herself and the wall, she started to scissor her way up the emergency ladder, silently thanking whatever designer had decided to pad it with nonconductive foam. She locked her legs on the middle, hooked one arm, braced, and heaved.


    Somehow, she managed to jerk Rudy up to the ladder.


    Now she could get her shoulder under him, use his own dead weight to keep him from sliding. It kept her from climbing, too, forcing muscles used to guiding a mecha to heft nearly twice her weight. Chloe winced as her arm caught against the ladder.


    Better not have been a blow to the head that knocked him out, she thought, or I could be killing him by doing this.


    She figured he''d rather have his brain shaken loose while he was unconscious than be left to bake alive. Besides, if a neural overload had knocked him out, he might actually survive the escape.


    Provided, of course, she could drag him the rest of the way out of the cockpit.


    It hadn''t seemed very deep coming down: a meter, tops. Lifting Rudy''s body that far when her arms were so sweat-slicked she could barely lift herself gave her new appreciation for the distance.


    She counted down in her mind. One, two, three ¨C


    Heave!


    She kicked upwards and swung Rudy toward the cockpit''s opening. He sprawled half out.


    He started to slip.


    ¡°No," Chloe screamed. She made a wild grab and managed only to pull at her already aching shoulder.


    Rudy''s slide stopped.


    ¡°You alive there, girl?" Boss asked. ¡°I''ve got Mr. Algreil."


    ¡°I''m fine,¡± Chloe lied. ¡°Get Rudy out." Her breath sounded more like a gasp. She started to climb. The arm she''d had hooked couldn''t support her weight. Broken? Or just sprained? She''d never broken an arm before, but it sure hurt as bad as she imagined it would. Gingerly, she switched to her good arm and levered herself out.


    She wanted to drag herself off the Epee, but its hull scorched her hands. She forced herself to her knees, then her feet.


    For a wonder, she actually managed to stand.


    Boss was dragging Rudy toward the edge of the platform. Chloe, gulping in a breath of blissfully cool air, sprinted after them. She hooked her good arm under Rudy''s and nodded to Boss. He returned the nod and grinned. Neither of them wasted energy speaking.


    They lowered Rudy from the mecha and jumped to the platform after him. Chloe rolled, cried out as she banged her bad arm. She gritted her teeth and stumbled to her feet. ¡°I''m okay," she whispered. ¡°Okay."


    ¡°Doubt that," Boss said, ¡°but if you can manage it, we''ve got to get Mr. Algreil out of here. The whole damned place looks liable to collapse, and for all the eggheads claim it ''can''t happen,'' I wouldn''t bet my arse on the Epee not blowing."


    Chloe forced herself to nod. Boss picked Rudy up and draped one of the unconscious mechaneer''s arms gingerly over Chloe''s good shoulder. They walked, stumbled and crawled for the exit the rest of the pit crew had fled through. The elevators had automatically returned, at least. Chloe lowered Rudy to the floor of the nearest and collapsed beside him while Boss worked the controls.


    Above them, the psychic battle still raged, howling wind and screeching metal. Chloe shuddered.


    Boss''s hand closed on her shoulder ¨C her good shoulder, thank the Principle.


    She forced herself to look up.


    The grizzled mechanic grinned down at her. ¡°You done good, girl," he said. ¡°Guess Mr. Algreil picked better''n I figured, after all."

 Chapter 17: Failure

    Chapter 17: Failure


    ¡°Failure." Otto Abeir Algreil.


    ¡°Disqualified," Commandant Efrem, Etemenos Military Academy.


    ¡°Conduct unbecoming an officer." Instructor Borel, Federal Mechaneer Training Station.


    ¡°Striking a superior officer." Professor Slade, Fort Raypoint Academy.


    ¡°Second Place." Etemenos Cup announcer.


    ¡°Crimson Chicken." Some wise-ass covering the Etemenos Cup.


    ¡°Second, third¡­ top ten." Chloe Hughes. Not even a fan.


    ¡°Failure."


    Rudy swam through a thick morass of voices and images. He tried not to breathe, fearing they would drown him. He knew he was dreaming. At least, he hoped he was dreaming. If death was an endless parade of wise-asses dissing his performance, he had some serious shit to sort out with the Almighty Principle.


    He saw the Epee, emblazoned with the flaming bird insignia of the Crimson Phoenix. The mecha''s featureless red visor lit with a cyclopean light, as though it were staring at him. As he watched, its metallic lines curled and twisted into sleeker, smoother curves, almost like the carapace of some gargantuan red arthropod. Its visor split as if to admit him to its cockpit, but it opened like a pair of mandibles.


    He tried to swim away from it, but the sludge of memory and impression pulled him in.


    He thrust up his hand to ward it away ¨C but he didn''t have a hand.


    He tried to kick ¨C but he didn''t have a leg.


    He looked down at himself. At the ruin of his lean, lanky frame, twisted and mauled beyond recognition.


    He tried to scream.


    The sea of thoughts filled his mouth, choking down the sound, choking him.


    Failure! The thought rebounded through him, Otto''s voice, the voice of every instructor he''d ever had, even Chloe''s. He tried to grab at the impression of Chloe. At least she sounded sympathetic.


    But when the image of her formed before him, hovering in front of the monstrous Epee, it was with her hair long and curly, unbound and undyed, noble''s hair, an ocean of billowing raven curls offset by sickly pale skin. Her face curled into a sneer. She looked down her nose at his outstretched remaining hand and laughed in his face.


    Rudy''s hand fell away.


    He tumbled toward the Epee, looking back at the noble girl who watched, cruel amusement twisting her mouth into a mock smile.


    ¡°Failure," she said.


    The cockpit-mandibles slammed shut around him.


    Rudy found himself seated, but the chair wasn''t the impact chair of his mecha, and he was not himself. Not as he was now, anyway. He felt dwarfed by the gargantuan throne, red with blue trim. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home, but home was here!


    When he tried to sit up, he discovered the straps holding him to the chair.


    He cried for his parents ¨C but they were dead, so after a moment, he cried for his brother.


    Otto was there, standing beside him, grinning down and patting his arm.


    ¡°This isn''t going to hurt," Otto said, ¡°so just sit back and quit your whining."


    ¡°But ¨C"


    ¡°Listen, kiddo, you should be thanking me." Otto''s grin widened. ¡°We''re gonna make you ¨C"


    The lights went out. Lightning flashed. Rudy caught glimpses of strange machines and bubbling tubes of stranger fluids, of Otto''s face and a dozen other, older faces, weirdly illuminated by the crackling light.


    Then¡­


    ¡°Failure," Otto spat. The word echoed through the room, either repeated by the other figures hidden in the shadows or echoing from the curving walls.


    Rudy, himself again, whole again, surged toward the image of his scowling brother.


    For a fraction of a second, he saw Otto, not framed by strange devices, but by a tall, muscular blond man, a felid redhead who clung to the man, and the shattered window of the Algreil Aerospace box at the Wellach Cup arena.


    Then Rudy''s eyes opened and he realized it was Chloe leaning over him, and that he''d been about ready to throttle her.


    He dropped his hands to his sides.


    ¡°You''re awake," she said. Her voice sounded shaky. Maybe she didn''t want him awake, at least after the greeting he''d almost given.


    Rudy peeled himself from the soft, welcoming gel of the couch. He looked around his suite, confirming the walls and the boring-as-hell screens on them and the fish swimming outside ¨C and, thank the Principle, his alcohol globes. Unless he missed his count, Chloe had broken down and popped a few.


    ¡°What am I doing here?" he asked.


    ¡°Boss and I got you to a cab," Chloe said. She rubbed the back of her neck. ¡°He said you''d just gone into feedback shock and needed to rest, so we brought you here."


    ¡°Boss¡­?" Rudy shook his head. It felt no clearer, but he did manage to send a shooting pain across his cerebellum. ¡°Oh. The tournament."


    The tournament he''d lost.


    Again.


    ¡°When we left, the arena was still holding," Chloe said, apparently misunderstanding his frown. ¡°The Reformer was overhead. It looked like its shields were propping the place up."


    ¡°Marcel spread his shields with a nob on the loose?" Rudy shook his head again, gingerly this time. ¡°He''s even dumber than I thought."


    ¡°He did it to save people, Rudy," Chloe snapped. ¡°The news said the arena would have collapsed otherwise. There were two hundred thousand people in there!"


    ¡°You sound like a regular little recruiting poster," Rudy said. He swung off the couch; the gel sloughed from his body to return to its inert form. ¡°I can see it now: you posed in a slinky little green-and-gold number, a big ''I Want You ¨C for the Federal Navy'' scrawled overhead. All they''d have to do is dub your voice so you didn''t sound like such a nag."


    ¡°So what would you have done? Let them die?"


    ¡°Same thing Marcel did," Rudy said. ¡°Except I would have gotten drummed out for ''risking my ship.''"


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    ¡°You''ve got a lot of nerve, Rudy Kaine Algreil," Chloe said.


    ¡°You just noticed?" He scooped up a globe of wine and popped it in his mouth. ¡°Anyway, I''m not the one snapping at a guy who just regained consciousness. In his own suite, no less."


    Chloe''s mouth dropped. She stared at him.


    She looked like she''d have slapped him right back into unconsciousness but for the cast of hardened medical nanopaste on her arm. Instead, she spun, fixing her gaze on one of the Wellachan plated fish drifting past.


    Rudy blinked. Cast on her arm?


    Oh, hell. She''d probably hurt herself getting him out. Suddenly, he felt guilty for snapping at her about Avalon ¨C and he hated feeling guilty. Felt too much like obligation. ¡°What happened to your arm?"


    ¡°Nothing."


    ¡°Chloe, I didn''t mean to snap at you."


    She did a great impression of someone who hadn''t heard him. Stiffly, she said, ¡°Before he went to check on your brother, Boss asked me to tell you to call in when you woke. Do you remember the channel?"


    ¡°I''ll call when I''m good and ready," Rudy said. ¡°Right now, I want to ¨C"


    To apologize, he thought.


    He wasn''t good at ''sorry.''


    Chloe waited, head cocked expectantly, her eyes still on the fish but her thoughts obviously not.


    Rudy opened his mouth. Shut it again.


    Probably just end up with his foot in it if he said anything else, anyway.


    He spun and stalked into the bedroom and pulled his mask up. At a thought, his flight suit placed a call to the Algreil Aerospace arcology on Wellach.


    He heard Chloe moving around in the entertainment room. He took a step toward the bedroom door.


    ¡°Mr. Rudolf?"


    Suppressing a curse, he focused on the semi-transparent screen his mask''s eyepieces had become. A clerk in an Algreil Aerospace jumpsuit nodded a greeting.


    ¡°Speaking," Rudy growled. He cocked his ear. Chloe was still on the move. Hopefully, she wouldn''t do anything stupid. ¡°What do you want?"


    ¡°Um, you contacted us, Mr. Rudolf," the clerk said. ¡°I assumed you wished to apprise the company of your health. Which appears good."


    ¡°A little feedback shock never hurt anybody," Rudy said.


    ¡°I''m sure you''re right, sir. Did you want to be put through to Mr. Algreil?" ''Mr. Algreil,'' of course, being the Algreil, the elder Algreil.


    ¡°He''s back?"


    ¡°I''m afraid not, sir," the clerk said.


    Something else to worry about, Rudy thought. Just like Otto to get himself killed and dump the company in his little brother''s lap. ¡°Have you heard from him since the mess at the arena?"


    ¡°He is currently assisting Admiral Avalon''s efforts to stabilize the Wellach Cup Arena."


    Making his time and fuel tax deductible, no doubt. ¡°Call me back when he shows," Rudy said, and killed the connection before the fussy bureaucrat started unloading responsibilities on Algreil the younger.


    He strode back into the hallway.


    Chloe stood at the door. She had a bag braced on her good arm. She had to stretch her fingers around it to the door controls.


    Rudy slid between her and the door. ¡°Where do you think you''re going?"


    ¡°Out," she said. She sidestepped him and leaned closer to the controls. The door slid open.


    Rudy wished he hadn''t gotten her imprinted to work the suite. Of course, if he hadn''t, he''d have woken up in the hallway. He spread his arms across the doorway. ¡°No you''re not."


    She set her jaw. ¡°Don''t make me push you out of the way. You''re a feedback shock patient and my arm''s broken. One of us is liable to get hurt."


    ¡°Chloe, I''m¡­" Rudy heaved a sigh, clenched his fists. ¡°Dammit, I''m sorry about what I said earlier, okay?"


    ¡°If you think you made me mad," she said, ¡°well, you''re right, actually, but that''s not why I''m leaving."


    ¡°Oh, you just up and decided to, huh?"


    ¡°I only stayed till you woke up."


    Rudy blinked. ¡°What?"


    ¡°After all the trouble of saving you, it seemed wasteful to let you die because nobody watched you."


    ¡°Doesn''t explain why you''re leaving."


    ¡°Because I caused this," she said.


    ¡°You lost me."


    ¡°Nobles, Rudy!" She pinched a strand of her straightened, blue-dyed hair and twisted it into its natural curl. ¡°You know why the Black Rook was there, and the Animus Hunter, too. If not for me, none of this would have happened. Nobody would have gotten hurt, Mom and Dad would be safe back on the Goose ¨C heck, you would have won your stupid tournament!"


    ¡°You blame yourself for what happened back there? Bull. For all you know, that damn nob just wanted to smack down some ''garch trash and show how great he was."


    ¡°You know better!"


    ¡°I don''t know a damn thing," Rudy said. ¡°You ask me, nobs are all a bunch of crazies."


    ¡°I''m a ''nob,'' as you put it."


    ¡°I rest my case."


    ¡°Then why don''t you let me leave?"


    ¡°Because you took care of me and you''re in no condition to do the same for yourself," Rudy said. ¡°Also, because even if you''re right about why those guys decided to make Wellach ground zero for an old fashioned Civil War-style monster mash, you still shouldn''t blame yourself."


    ¡°Never said I did," Chloe said. ¡°Principle knows I didn''t ask for any of this, noble blood and the powers supposed to go with it very much included. The people who are fighting over me are to blame ¨C but it still wouldn''t happen if I weren''t the cause of it. Whoever is around me will get hurt ¨C"


    ¡°That settles it," Rudy said. ¡°I want a rematch with the Black Rook, so I''m sticking with you."


    ¡°You can''t fight a noble, Rudy!"


    ¡°Wanna bet? If I''d known what to expect, I''d have smacked that stuck-up Rook back down to earth. Or water, anyway."


    ¡°Bully for you," Chloe said. ¡°Now get out of my way."


    ¡°No chance, sweetness. You''re going nowhere."


    ¡°If you keep me here, Rudy, so help me, I''ll call it kidnapping. Bring scandal to your house or whatever they call it in the Oligarchy."


    Rudy laughed. ¡°In Algreil Aerospace, that wouldn''t even be much of a scandal. Besides, who''re you gonna call? The Feds?"


    ¡°Yes."


    ¡°See, that''s what I''m talking about. You''re obviously in no condition to go out on your own."


    ¡°I''m going to turn myself in, Rudy," Chloe said.


    ¡°You''re what?"


    ¡°Admiral Avalon seems like an honorable gentleman. He''ll let my parents go once he has no reason to hold them. They''ll be free, and nobody else will get hurt."


    ¡°Marcel!" Rudy''s face darkened. ¡°So help me, Chloe, I ought to let you go. It would serve you right."


    ¡°Good." She took a step forward.


    Rudy deftly avoided jostling her injured arm as he angled her back into the suite. ¡°I ought to. For Principle knows what reason, though, I''m not gonna. That ''honorable gentleman'' will break your heart ¨C right before, in your case, he breaks your skull open so you don''t threaten ''the peace and equality of the galaxy.''"


    ¡°You''re wrong ¨C"


    ¡°Principle, Clo, didn''t your parents warn you about slick operators like Marcel?"


    ¡°Not half as often as they warned me about wanna-be rebels always ready to throw a grin or a punch and so hot-headed they''d jump at a hint they weren''t patterned to be the greatest thing since gravitic drive." She huffed. Then, quickly, she added, ¡°Also, you''re wrong about why I trust the admiral. Risking his ship to save a bunch of civilians goes a long way toward convincing me of his good intentions."


    ¡°Listen, Clo," Rudy said. ¡°Say you''re right about Marcel ¨C which you aren''t, by the way, ''cause he only does crap like that to sucker innocent young women into thinking he''s some kind of hero. Even so, you''ll be putting some people in plenty of danger."


    ¡°Like who?"


    ¡°Like yours truly." Rudy jerked a thumb at his chest. ¡°I stuck my neck out hiding you. With all the heat the Feds brought down here, especially with a nob after you, too, that''s probably treason."


    ¡°I''ll say¡­ um¡­"


    ¡°That you seduced me?"


    ¡°Well, something ¨C" She blushed. ¡°Rudy!"


    ¡°They might actually buy that one¡­"


    ¡°I''m not going to say that!"


    ¡°Fine. Say whatever you want. It won''t change the fact that you''ll be so pumped full of Indicators you won''t be able to lie about your weight, much less who helped you out."


    ¡°You really think so?"


    ¡°I know so. The Feds use ''em to check you for cheating on tests, for Principle''s sake."


    ¡°Did you?"


    ¡°Cheat? Of course, but that''s not the point. What is, is this: they''ll find out who helped you, and they''ll use that as an excuse to nail all of Algreil Aerospace. You''ll get me killed, probably my brother, too, and the whole company nationalized."


    ¡°They wouldn''t do that," Chloe said.


    ¡°Wanna bet?" Rudy tapped the sceen beside him. At a thought, it displayed an internal company report from four years earlier. Everything Algreil Aerospace had on the fall of Kalder-Black. ¡°You seem to like watching the news. Maybe you should sit down and soak this up instead. You can get back to me on what the Feds ''wouldn''t do.''¡±

 Chapter 18: Take You For A Ride

    Chapter 18: Take You For A Ride


    ¡°Cast came off, huh?"


    ¡°Finally," Chloe said. She didn''t shift her gaze from the news feed playing across her flight suit''s eyepieces. She watched various news crews pick their way through the ruin of the arena. Once the Reformer withdrew its powerful gravitic drive, the entire upper hemisphere collapsed onto the lower. Thank the Principle ¨C and Second Admiral Marcel Avalon ¨C, there had been only a dozen deaths. Not counting the Black Rook and the Animus Hunter, because nobody seemed to know what had happened to either of them. According to the footage Chloe had seen, they''d disappeared beneath the waves.


    The waves had frozen behind them.


    She could still hardly believe it. Wellach had only the tiniest of polar caps; the ice beneath the arena had, for a few hours at least, been the thickest on the planet.


    Had the Black Rook created it to cover his escape?


    Had the Animus Hunter created it to capture his noble prey?


    Or was Chloe wrong about who was hunting whom?


    She shook her head. All she knew was, despite Avalon''s heroics, she was glad she hadn''t gone through with her plan to turn herself in. The admiral himself might be an honorable man, but if even a tenth of the things Algreil Aerospace unearthed about the fall of its rival corporation were true, plenty of the admiral''s bosses in the Senate and colleagues in the Federal Navy enjoyed at best a cool relationship with ''honor.'' To say nothing of ''law'' and ''basic human decency.''


    ¡°Never wear the things myself," Rudy said. It took Chloe a minute to realize he was still talking about the cast. He flopped onto the couch across from her. ¡°Being mothered by semi-sentient nanopaste just isn''t my style."


    ¡°That''s what my dad always says," Chloe said. She rubbed her formerly cracked arm. It felt good as new after a week of being set, held and soothed by the medical nanopaste. ¡°He also ends up taking months to heal injuries nanopaste could have patched up in a week, though."


    Rudy chuckled. ¡°Anybody ever tell you you''re ''nice,'' Clo?"


    ¡°You say that like it''s a bad thing."


    ¡°With good reason." He popped an alcohol globe into his mouth. ¡°Fortunately, I can cure nicety in three easy steps."


    ¡°Do any of them involve finding my parents?" She met his eyes at last.


    His cocky grin wavered for a fraction of a second. When she first met him, she never would have caught it, but weeks in close proximity had alerted her to his subtle cues.


    She said, ¡°I''ll take that as a no."


    ¡°Actually," he said, ¡°I do have a lead."


    ¡°You do?" She shot from the couch. ¡°What? Where?"


    ¡°I''m heading north to see a guy who might be able to help. Old pal of your dad''s, from what I gather."


    ¡°Dad never mentioned having friends on Wellach."


    ¡°Maybe he didn''t know the guy was in-system," Rudy said. ¡°He''s a former Devil Ray, who, according to company records, retired here. Trouble is, he probably won''t respond well to me. The old Devil Rays seem to have it in their heads that anybody other than them who straps on a tournament mecha for the company is a ''punk kid.''"


    ¡°I wonder where they get that idea."


    ¡°Can''t imagine," Rudy said, perfectly deadpan. ¡°Anyway, since you''re officially hale and hearty, you can come with me. Nothing like a damsel in distress to soften up these old soldiers, if you ask me."


    ¡°I''ll come, of course, but¡­ can this guy really help find my parents?"


    ¡°You better believe it. He''s got hella good connections, both in the oligarchy and in the navy. Even if he doesn''t have the info we need, it''s a sure bet he''ll know who we can bribe to get it."


    ¡°You''d risk bribing someone for me?"


    ¡°What was it Marcel smarted off about? He could ''see why I conformed to the whims of yon capricious nymph'' or some such crap?"


    Chloe fought a blush, lost. ¡°Rudy¡­! Be serious."


    ¡°Never." He waited, head cocked. Apparently disappointed when Chloe didn''t relent, he went back on his word: his voice turned grave. ¡°Fine, Clo. I''ll be honest: You raised the stakes when you pulled me out of that Epee. Boss told me the whole story and, uh¡­ I didn''t ever really thank you."


    ¡°You don''t have to risk yourself and your company because of it. Those recordings you showed me¡­" She hugged her arms.


    ¡°Hey, anything to tweak the Feds."


    ¡°That''s too risky even for you."


    ¡°Wanna bet?"


    ¡°It sure is for me!" Chloe turned and stalked to the window. An armored Wellachan fish almost as big as the suite drifted by, its plate-sized goggle-eye shifting to track her motion. ¡°If you get hurt on my account, what was the point of pulling you out in the first place?"


    Rudy''s reflection appeared beside hers. He reached around and took her hand.


    She figured she should pull away.


    ¡°Chloe," he said. ¡°Look at me."


    ¡°No."


    ¡°What are you afraid of?"


    ¡°Lots of things." She laughed because it seemed better than the alternative. ¡°At the moment, me. Being on my own, or with you, anyway, which is even worse. I''ve lived on the Mother Goose since I was a kid, and Dad was always around when I was an old enough kid for him to have to worry about."


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    ¡°You''re worried I''ll take advantage of your naivet¨¦," Rudy said.


    ¡°Won''t you?"


    ¡°What do you think I''ve been trying to do since we met?"


    ¡°You said I wasn''t your type." She risked a glance at him, or at least his reflection. She could see him clearly against the backdrop of the water; the fish, bored when potential prey stopped moving, had wandered off. ¡°You weren''t lying about that, were you?"


    ¡°Nothing but the truth, sweet thing," Rudy said. He leaned his head over her shoulder. ¡°I just neglected to mention that I''m not picky."


    She tried so very hard to glare. Failed.


    He reached around to cup her chin. He tilted her lips toward his broad grin.


    ¡°Rudy, I don''t want to¡­" She gulped.


    ¡°You sure? Because from where I''m standing, it sure seems to be on your mind. After all, I didn''t ask."


    ¡°You implied."


    ¡°Semantic nonsense."


    Chloe pulled away from him. ¡°Semantic nonsense is the best defense I''ve got."


    ¡°Actually," he said, ¡°the best defense you''ve got is that we''re gonna be late for our meeting with your dad''s old pal if we don''t get a move on."


    Thank the Principle for small favors, Chloe thought.


    She took it back when Rudy led her to the hotel''s garage and their ride.


    Gleaming neon red to match Rudy''s flight suit, save where a phoenix spread garishly painted wings on its broad opaque windshield, the motorcycle looked like it was doing a hundred clicks just sitting there with the engine off. Chloe understood how such devices worked ¨C powerful internal combustion engines propelled their wheels, electromagnetic stabilizers kept them from tipping over or, at high enough speeds, taking flight.


    She also understood that riding one meant traveling at very high speeds, off rails, without so much as a thin layer of composite armor between her and the ground.


    ¡°Ever ride one of these babies, Clo?" Rudy asked, hopping aboard. ¡°A mag-cycle, I mean ¨C I know you''ve never ridden one like this."


    ¡°No," she said.


    ¡°Great! You''ll never forget your first time." He grinned and patted the seat behind him.


    I''m doing this for Mom and Dad, Chloe thought. Objectively, it couldn''t be as dangerous as running across an overheating mecha, and that was just for Rudy ¨C who, she decided, owed her several years of peace and quiet even apart from saving his sorry self.


    ¡°Time''s a wasting," he said.


    Chloe joined him on the bike. She couldn''t help but notice they fit snugly on it, and wondered if he''d chosen it for that purpose. Too late to complain now, though.


    She managed to keep from starting when the reactive gel of the bike''s seat melded to her flight suit as a safety belt. At least with it, she''d only be scraped to a bloody pulp by the pavement if the bike wiped out, rather than being thrown to her death in a tight turn.


    ¡°Hold on anyway," Rudy said. ¡°The belt keeps you in place, but it''s no kind of fun being jerked around at the waist, especially when you''re not used to it."


    Chloe wrapped her arms around his chest. ¡°Are you sure this is necessary?"


    ¡°Don''t know about that, but it''s hella pleasant."


    Before she could consider unentangling herself, he floored the accelerator. The bike darted through a mostly-empty garage; most visitors to Wellach used public transportation, like civilized people.


    Somehow, Rudy managed to swerve nerve-wrackingly close to what few ground vessels other patrons had brought.


    Chloe clung tighter and closed her eyes. Which, she supposed, was probably the point.


    She opened them again when a warm sea breeze whipped at her hair.


    Wellach''s highways stretched before them. Chloe had barely noticed the road running alongside the gravlev train when Rudy had brought her to Wellach City ¨C she''d been so stunned by the loss of her parents, she''d hardly noticed the train. She saw the highways as if for the first time: half-pipes, twenty-five meters in diameter, metal on the bottom, reinforced plastic on the sides.


    The roads themselves were tourist attractions ¨C a monumental network spanning the entirety of waterlogged Wellach. They rode low enough in the water to show off the waves through their vast windows.


    Chloe would have liked them better if they hadn''t swayed with the current. She gulped, wondering how to avoid throwing up on Rudy''s back. ¡°How long will we be on the road?"


    ¡°Couple hours," he said.


    Chloe suppressed a groan. She tried to remember the Wellachan geography the planetary government had beamed to the Mother Goose as it came in. Wellach City, near the equator, was the hub. It maintained space elevators for bulk cargo, as did four other equatorial arcologies. Wellach exported¡­ what? Fossil fuels from below its world-ocean? That and its galaxy-famous fish. She shook her head. Irrelevant details, and she didn''t want to get hungry. It would only make her queasier.


    Rudy turned north. What lay a couple hours north of Wellach City?


    She asked.


    ¡°It''s a small arcology. Exclusive. Business class, you might say."


    ¡°Business class?"


    ¡°You know, like on a starliner? Gel seats and beds and your own suite, but don''t expect decent catering?"


    ¡°Ah," said Chloe, who didn''t ''know'' at all. The only interstellar ship she remembered was the Mother Goose, and her bed there had been an old-fashioned mattress. The bodyforming gel of the bed and couches in Rudy''s suite was the first she''d ever experienced. The food on the Goose, on the other hand, had been impeccable. Her stomach growled at the thought of her mother''s cooking, then grumbled at the swaying of the highway.


    ¡°The seasickness gets better after a while," Rudy said.


    ''A while,'' in Chloe''s case, meant nearly the whole trip. Her stomach didn''t finish settling until just before they dipped into a covered span of tube that, Rudy promised, led straight to their destination.


    ¡°Why the tunnel?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It branches off to some submarine colonies," Rudy said. ¡°This close to the equator, just touristy crap, but as you get further north you run into big refineries and fisheries. Also, Wellach has two moons in irregular orbits, so the tides get choppier the closer you get to the poles."


    ¡°How do you know all this stuff, Rudy?"


    ¡°When I''m not seducing glamorous noblewomen, fighting for my life in contests of raw mechaneering skill and living dangerously on illegally modded bikes, I entertain myself moonlighting as a tour guide."


    ¡°Really."


    He grinned back at her. ¡°Nah, I called it up on my suit''s computer when you asked."


    Chloe suppressed a sigh. ¡°Wait¡­ what do you mean, ''illegally modded?''"


    ¡°The Feds slap a speed cap on these suckers. For ''safety.''" Rudy spat the last word like the foulest curse in the galaxy. ¡°Good thing I figured out how to take it off, eh?"


    ¡°Wonderful."


    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I had Boss check the circuits after I fooled with them."


    ¡°It does."


    ¡°You really ought to trust me," he said.


    He shot around a slower-moving vehicle. The driver leaned on his horn. The sound echoed in the water-shrouded tunnel. For a second, Chloe thought she saw a recognizable logo on the vehicle, but it vanished behind them too quickly.


    ¡°See? I''m a great driver."


    She didn''t grace him with a response.


    Before he settled on another quip, they shot from the tunnel, and the sight overhead struck him as dumb as it did Chloe.


    They were indeed at a small private arcology. An office spire poked from the center of the circular platform, no doubt repeated below in typical Wellachan fashion. Smaller outbuildings and hangars sized for everything from mecha to shuttles to full-sized transports ringed the spire. The Algreil Aerospace logo glowed from its gates.


    And the Federal Navy destroyer Reformer hovered overhead.

 Chapter 19: Ultimatum

    Chapter 19: Ultimatum


    Ellie stared at the officer displayed by the semi-transparent screen. For one, he was the handsomest man she''d ever seen. She felt something like Jack must have, seeing Chloe''s birth mother all those years ago.


    For another, he was familiar.


    She knew she''d never met him before, but the sense of familiarity remained. She knew, or almost knew, the lines of his tanned jaw, the angle of his aquiline nose, the curve of his wavy platinum hair. Even his remarkable amber eyes, which she knew she''d never seen on a pure human before, struck a chord.


    Maybe she''d met his parents, though where, she couldn''t begin to guess. Second Admiral Marcel Avalon undoubtedly hailed from the core worlds of the Federated Stars, if not Etemenos itself.


    ¡°You okay, Hon?¡± Jack whispered.


    Ellie forced herself to nod.


    She and Jack had been called into Otto Algreil''s office and stationed away from the camera broadcasting the Oligarch''s image to the man displayed over the desk. They saw the admiral through the screen as he addressed Otto, but, the Oligarch assured them, Avalon could not see them.


    Ellie wondered, and worried, why Otto had called them in for the meeting.


    Did the Feds have Chloe? Or did the Oligarch, for all his anti-Federal rhetoric, plan to acquire something for his company by selling the Hugheses to them?


    She could see his calm, cool smile through the semi-transparent projection of Admiral Avalon, but read him? Not a chance. Otto used facial expressions and body language as deftly as most people used words.


    "To what do we owe the pleasure, Divine Auric Drake," he asked. Ellie recognized Avalon''s mechaneer name from the Wellach Cup, and assumed using it represented an attempt at informality.


    "I think you know why I''m here, Mr. Algreil," Avalon said. His rich tenor at once soothed and commanded. It almost drowned out his hard words. "And I fear my approach will bring you no pleasure. In short: surrender the girl Chloe Hughes and her parents. Now."


    "Excuse me?" Otto cocked an eyebrow slightly, looked down the bridge of his nose. If she hadn''t known better, Ellie would have sworn he had no idea what the admiral was talking about. "Are these people supposed to be employees of mine or something? What''s this about?"


    "Don''t play the fool, Mr. Algreil," Avalon said. "I do not want to be forced to destroy you."


    "Destroy ¨C! Now wait just a damned minute!" Otto surged over the desk. "Before you start blowing holes in every treaty, law and constitutional right of the Oligarchy, Marcel, you''d better show me some kind of a warrant. And explain what in the hell it''s for."


    "If you insist on your ignorance, I will enlighten you. Analysis of footage taken during the Wellach Cup Arena tragedy clearly shows you in the company of one Jack Hughes, free trader, late of the salvage ship Mother Goose, and a former Colonel in the Algreil Aerospace Devil Rays under your command. Also present was one Ellie Hughes, a hybrid of the felid breed, wed to Colonel Hughes under transitional law."


    "Jack and Ellie Hughes," Otto said. He tossed a slight wink to them. Ellie wondered if she''d have noticed it without a felid''s enhanced senses. "Yeah, Jack''s an old pal of mine. They''re here, all right. Hoped I could help find their runaway daughter. That''s this Chloe, right?"


    Ellie tensed.


    Jack squeezed her arm. She glanced at him. He gave an urgent shake of his head.


    Avalon''s voice rolled from the screen. "You are not providing them with a great deal of help, then, since the daughter is also in your possession."


    "Hell of a leap of logic you''ve got there, Marcel," Otto said.


    "You may drop the audacity, Mr. Algreil. You cannot surpass parading her right under my nose, even giving her name! I confess, but for the Black Rook''s denuding the arena of its one-way glass, I would never have guessed even you and the Crimson Phoenix so bold as to hide her in such plain sight."


    "Rudy? The hell?" Otto looked confused again, and annoyed, and perhaps a touch worried; Ellie couldn''t begin to guess if he really was any of the above. "If you think I''d let an old friend''s daughter within five kilometers of my kid brother, much less a girl valuable enough you seem to think I''d risk my company to hide her from the Federal Navy, you obviously don''t know Rudy as well as you think you do ¨C or me, for that matter."


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    "Precisely what I did think, when he introduced me to his lovely new ''mechanic.'' Once I had seen the parents, however, it seemed only natural to compare security footage of ''Chloe Derringer'' to the images we have on file for the Hughes daughter."


    "Care to share that data, Marcel?"


    "Anything to persuade you to cooperate without bloodshed," Avalon said. "Lieutenant Thibaut," he called to someone offscreen, "splice the comparative analysis of the Hughes daughter into my transmission."


    Ellie bit back a gasp.


    On her left was the image Zelph had shown Jack: how the Feds'' best predicative computers expected Chloe to look.


    On her right, the screen showed Chloe in mechanic''s gear, an Algreil Aerospace logo on the right breast of her vest, a young, blue-eyed redhead in a crimson flight suit walking with his arm around her waist.


    "Chloe," Jack whispered. "What''s she doing with Otto''s kid brother?"


    "What''s she doing with those clothes," Ellie hissed, eyeing the short shorts and the bared midrif.


    "That son of a bitch," Otto snarled.


    "You acknowledge your guilt," Avalon said.


    "The hell I do!" Otto slammed his fist on the desk, buzzing the executive assistant Ellie knew waited in the room beyond his office. "Where is that little bastard?"


    "Mr. Rudolf''s transponder is off, Sir," the assistant said. She neither hesitated nor remarked on the form of address; Ellie figured it was how Otto usually called for his brother. The assistant asked, "Would you like to place a call?"


    "I''d like to rip his goddamned throat out," the Oligarch snarled. "But yes. Get him on the line yesterday."


    "An impressive performance, Mr. Algreil," Avalon said. "If unconvincing. You cannot expect me to believe your brother acted alone in bringing Miss Hughes in when you admit her parents are in your custody."


    "Believe what you want, Avalon," Otto said, "but it''s true."


    "I''m afraid that''s not good enough. Surrender the Hughes family immediately ¨C all of them ¨C or I will take them by force."


    Before Otto could answer, Jack stepped around the desk to face Avalon. "Look, Admiral," he began.


    "Colonel Hughes," Avalon said, nodding a greeting. "I recall reading of your exploits during the War. It is a great tragedy that you and your wife have fallen under suspicion of treason. You may rest assured I will make every effort to disprove these charges, and that the Federal Senate intends no harm toward the young woman you call your daughter."


    "Chloe is our daughter, Sir," Jack said. "And much as I appreciate the help ¨C and don''t get me wrong, it tugs the old heart strings, right down deep ¨C I''m tellin'' you, Otto doesn''t have her. We''ve been tearing our hair out looking for her ever since she disappeared."


    "Your reputation as a fast-talker proceeds you as well," Avalon said. "A certain Animus Hunter vouches for it."


    Jack shrugged. "Can''t help it if I''ve got a tongue as quick as my fist, Sir. Pattern of my days."


    "Those days are reaching their end, Colonel Hughes, if you cannot persuade Mr. Algreil to surrender your family ¨C your entire family ¨C to the Federal Navy. Surely the mere presence of an Animus Hunter lends gravity to this affair?"


    "We can''t surrender what we don''t have," Otto said. "Jack, if you''re willing, I''ll turn you over to the magnificent one-track here. Maybe in person, you can talk some sense into him."


    "I''ll sure as hell try," Jack said.


    Ellie wondered at Otto''s sudden solicitousness of their feelings. An act for Avalon''s benefit, no doubt, since he''d portrayed himself as practically a friend of the family.


    "And Chloe Hughes?" Avalon asked.


    "I already told you, we don''t have her," Otto said. "Let me talk to Rudy ¨C"


    "And how long will that take?"


    "An hour, tops."


    "Very well," Avalon said. "Stand down whatever defenses your arcology possesses. The Reformer will land an inspection team, whose work will require at least an hour. You may use this time to contact the Crimson Phoenix.


    "And Mr. Algreil," he added, "I trust you will not attempt something foolish."


    "Fight a destroyer?" Otto laughed. "I''d have to be crazy."


    "Indeed you would. Avalon out."


    The holograph disappeared.


    Jack and Ellie exchanged glances.


    Ellie said, "Chloe and your brother?"


    Otto shook his head. "Hell if I know."


    "Don''t lie to us, Otto," Jack said.


    "Goddamn it, I''m not. I wouldn''t let her within five clicks of Rudy! He''s got the responsibility of a five year old and the testosterone of a fifteen year old! He''s the last person in the galaxy I''d trust with something important, and that goes double if that something happened to be packaged as a cute girl."


    Ellie''s frown deepened. "Chloe''s responsible, though. She''s a good girl."


    "Damn straight," Jack said. He sounded nervous.


    "Here''s hoping," Otto said. "I don''t even want to think about the problems that could cause. Assuming we live to worry about them."


    "Speaking of which, what are you gonna do about your pal Marcel?" Jack jerked a thumb toward the office roof, and the destroyer presumably hovering somewhere overhead.


    Otto grinned. "I''m gonna fight a destroyer, of course."

 Chapter 20: Rebellion

    Chapter 20: Rebellion


    Even as Rudy gawked at the destroyer looming above them, he skidded the mag-cycle to a stop.


    "The Feds," Chloe hissed. The pleasant warmth and pressure of her encircling arms vanished as she pulled away. "What''s going on here, Rudy?"


    "Your guess is as good as mine." He watched, mouth dry, as the destroyer''s huge main guns trained on the Algreil office spire. "Unless ¨C"


    He should have guessed this. Should have known he wouldn''t be the only one who spotted Jack and Ellie Hughes in the Algreil Aerospace box.


    He should have told Chloe he''d seen them, instead of trying to surprise her.


    He should have told Otto.


    He sure as hell shouldn''t have paraded Chloe herself before Marcel Avalon. Hiding in plain sight worked only when the predator didn''t know to expect the prey.


    Dammit!


    Too late for recriminations, he reminded himself. His mechaneer''s instincts took over, analyzing the situation. Air superiority went to the Feds, obviously. Same with firepower and the element of surprise. Hell, would Otto even try to fight them?


    If he didn''t, what would they do? Would they take Jack and Ellie Hughes in trade?


    Or would they require Chloe herself ¨C who Otto didn''t have and couldn''t give?


    "Are they going to fire on the office?" she asked. "Why would they do that?"


    Because I found your parents, Rudy thought. Because the Feds did, too.


    He didn''t answer.


    Chloe drew her own conclusions ¨C probably not far from the truth. "They think Algreil Aerospace has me. They''re gonna take me, no matter what."


    She willed the bike''s reactive gel to release her and slid to the platform. She drew in a deep breath, balled her hands into fists, strode toward the gate.


    Rudy vaulted after her and caught her arm. "Where do you think you''re going?"


    "To stop this," she said. "The only chance your company, your family, has is if your brother actually does have me and turns me over. I saw those Kalder-Black reports. It''s not a good chance, but it is a chance. Maybe if I hurry, there''s still time."


    "Time to get killed is more like it. Keep your mask up and get on the bike."


    "You can''t mean to run away!"


    "Watch me," Rudy said. He pulled her toward the bike. The Feds would recognize his flight suit once they had time to analyze the data, but he figured they wouldn''t be paying attention to the tunnel yet. If he boarded and floored it ¨C


    "Let go of me, Rudy," Chloe said. She threw herself back and managed to slide from his grip. "Your brother''s gonna die if I don''t do this."


    "You''ve never even met my brother," Rudy said, "and if you had, you wouldn''t worry about him. He''s the slipperiest bastard you''ll ever come across. If anybody can get out of this, he can."


    "''If,''" Chloe said.


    "He''s a royal ass," Rudy said. He kept her talking while he circled around to interpose himself between her and the gate. Every second they lost gave the Feds more time to notice them.


    "So are you, sometimes."


    Rudy didn''t rise to the barb. "He hates hybrids!"


    "And ¨C" She stopped. Bit her lip.


    Finally, he''d found a hook to talk sense into her. "You really want to stick your neck out for somebody who thinks your mom is a piece of property, Clo?"


    Chloe didn''t answer.


    "Didn''t think so," Rudy said. He pointed to the bike. "Now let''s get out of here and figure out what we''re gonna do. The Feds won''t make anything stick on Otto without you as proof."


    Quietly, Chloe said, "Do you love your brother, Rudy?"


    Hell no, Rudy thought. Otto had the galactic market on assholery cornered. The only way his treatment of hybrids differed from his treatment of everybody else was that the law didn''t make him fake a different attitude toward hybrids. His voice shouted "Failure" in the back of Rudy''s mind.


    Rudy muttered, "Yeah."


    "Then I won''t let him get killed," Chloe said.


    She shot past him, a streak of white lightning in her flight suit. At least she''d masked up. The Feds wouldn''t catch her that way.


    Rudy followed her toward the gate.


    The explosion sent them both tumbling to the deck.


    Rudy shook his head clear and rolled to his feet. His suit diagnostics proclaimed him unharmed, which just went to show they didn''t know everything. His whole side felt like a solid bruise from the fall and his ears throbbed from the sound.


    He ran to Chloe''s side. She''d just started to push herself up. He hooked his arms under hers and pulled her back from the gate.


    Her gasp brought him up short. For a second, he thought she''d hurt herself in the fall and his pulling her made it worse. No, he thought, she sounded more shocked than pained.


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    He looked up.


    He could see the sky through the smoking hole in the Reformer''s hull.


    He said, "The hell¡­?"


    He looked away and pulled Chloe''s face down with him, muffling her startled cry.


    Good timing. Another explosion rocked the arcology. Rudy looked up, hoping and half-expecting to see another great gash burned through the Reformer.


    No such luck. A cylinder of atomic fire blazed out of the atmosphere, bent harmlessly away by the destroyer''s gravitic shields.


    "What''s happening," Chloe asked. She tried to wriggle free of his grasp, but weakly. "Why did you yank my face down like that?"


    "Fission cannon," Rudy said. "Big one. It could burn your eyes out if you saw the blast."


    "What''s a¡­ something like that¡­ doing on a civilian platform? Why aren''t we all dead if someone''s detonating fission bombs under our feet?"


    "The someone in question being Otto, I guess he''s using tactical-scale bombs and slapping a powerful field, probably magnetic since we''re in atmosphere, around them. Funnels the blast almost like a laser." Rudy didn''t try to get to his feet. If the cannon kept firing, it would just knock them down again. He scooted toward the cycle, pulling Chloe with him. "As to what it''s doing here, I''d say Algreil Aerospace was less than diligent in disarming after the Civil War."


    Or, he thought, Otto rearmed the company facilities after the Feds hit Kalder-Black.


    He glanced at the water. Sure enough, it bubbled weirdly around the arcology. He pointed. "We''ve got shields, too."


    Chloe followed his gaze. "Looks like your brother was prepared for a new Civil War."


    Rudy considered that altogether too possible.


    He couldn''t even blame Otto. After all, the Oligarchy had won the war against the aristocracy and just as quickly lost the peace to the Senate. Hell, until the last years of the century-long war, it had been between ''garchs and nobs, with Emperor Theophilos XIX and ¡°his¡± House of Commons remaining above the fray. Rudy was too young ¨C and not studious enough ¨C to grasp the political flanking maneuver by which Thomas Casimir, the President of the Commons, had simultaneously rebelled against the emperor and sucked the Oligarchy out of a conflict of interests and into a conflict of ideology. His knowledge of the Civil War boiled down to Otto''s reaction, and Otto had never forgiven the Feds for stealing his thunder.


    All of which left one central, all-important question:


    If Otto had prepared Algreil Aerospace''s defenses for a second Civil War, had he completed enough of his preparations to win one?


    "What should we do," Chloe asked.


    Good question.


    Run, and they''d have to leave the field of space-bending gravitons shrouding the arcology. Stay, and they''d have to contend with the Reformer''s mecha.


    The destroyer''s secondary and tertiary mecha bays opened ¨C the primary, Rudy noted, had been melted into slag by the first blast of the Algreil fission cannon ¨C to loose row upon row of humanoid battle machines. A smaller, one-mecha bay toward the front of the ship disgorged a familiar black-and-gold custom model: the Divine Auric Drake. Avalon commanded from the front.


    Damn, but Rudy wished he had his Epee!


    Without it, he and Chloe were sitting ducks. Mecha could navigate the compressed space of the arcology''s shield. Good pilots could do so damn fast. With their ship damaged and irradiated and probably a couple hundred of their comrades dead, Rudy didn''t know if the Feds would take prisoners.


    "We''ve gotta run," he decided.


    He scrambled to his feet. Glanced at the approaching mecha ¨C the Divine Auric Drake''s weirdly compressed image looked close to the wavering edge of the field. Pulled Chloe up after him.


    "Look," she cried.


    He followed her pointing finger.


    Mecha emerged from the bays scattered around the office spire. Stingrays, equipped with batlike wing-arms and broad, sharp-pointed tails for efficient atmospheric and underwater maneuvering. Civil War mecha ¨C Devil Ray mecha. Only eight ''rays to nearly ten times as many newer, smaller Fed machines.


    "Only those eight," Chloe said. "It''s brave of them to take on so many Feds, but it must be suicide."


    Rudy snorted. "Says the girl who wanted to take them on foot."


    "That''s different. I wasn''t going to fight them."


    "Anyway, don''t waste your pity on the Devil Rays. Those mecha? They''re true aerospace models. Those Feds can barely move in one gee. Can''t even fly under their own power ¨C see the tow lines they''re dropping on? Stingrays, on the other hand, work just fine in atmosphere. They were built for it."


    "You mean the Devil Rays will win?" Chloe sounded suspicious. Probably figured he was still trying to talk her away from the battlefield.


    "Devil Rays used to go toe to toe with nobs, Clo. Otto claims he was better than a nob in atmosphere, which is probably more of his bullshit, but that he lived to claim it says something."


    Rudy still intended to run. Just his luck to get nailed by some friendly fire ¨C not that most of the Devil Rays were friendly toward him.


    Still, he hated to leave without seeing at least some of the fight. He hesitated as the Stingrays rocketed into the air. Except for one near the back, probably out of practice, they moved in a perfect wedge formation. They hit the Feds just as they punched through the distorted space around the arcology. Missiles first, because the ''rays needed to shed the load of anti-mecha warheads under their wing-arms to get full articulation, then fists to finish the survivors.


    Even the straggler looked almost better than textbook-perfect. Better, Rudy realized, than he would have, trying to fly and fight in formation. As he watched, the straggler caught his squadron and fell into perfect synchronization, not just with his machine but with the other pilots.


    "They''re really good," Chloe whispered.


    Rudy didn''t ¨C quite ¨C detect a subtext of ''better than you.'' He felt its sting all the same.


    He had to fight to keep from rooting for Avalon. If the Divine Auric Drake took down even one Devil Ray, wouldn''t that prove Rudy, who''d beaten Avalon, was better? Taking down probably meant killing, though, and Rudy couldn''t quite wish that on Otto''s old war buddies, much less the man himself.


    The Devil Rays loosed their barrage of anti-mecha missiles and broke off into four pairs. The straggler and leader matched up, while the others sorted themselves out in a pattern Rudy didn''t understand. Their wings stayed locked. They''d have to compromise their aerial maneuverability to engage in close combat, but would only do so when they completely controlled the situation.


    The first Fed mecha slipped through the distorted space around the arcology just as the missiles reached him. His squat, milspec mecha burst like a pinata between two of the Algreil weapons, spraying coolant and artificial muscle. Rudy didn''t see an ejection seat amongst the mechanical debris.


    Nine other Feds went down in the first volley, destroyed or crippled beyond repair before they could return fire with the weapons gripped in their mechas'' free hands. Most of their gear, like the mecha themselves, was meant for space battles. Normal mecha didn''t perform well above half a gee, their humanoid construction a hindrance when they had to stand or fly in a planetary gravity well.


    Still, Rudy frowned at the numbers. He''d figured the Devil Rays would wipe out twice as many. During the Civil War, he recalled, they''d used those two-mecha fireteams to bring down lone nobs. Had they ever been outnumbered? Did their tactics account for it?


    The Feds, on the other hand, deployed in textbook Civil War formation. In less than a decade, the Federal Navy''s Civil War casualties had matched what the nobles and oligarchs racked up in a century. They threw men and material at problems until the problems went away.


    They had a lot of men and material.

 Chapter 21: Devil Rays

    Chapter 21: Devil Rays


    I can''t believe I let Otto rope me into this, Jack thought.


    He couldn''t believe the Oligarch had offered, either.


    His vision swam with flickering tracer fire from mecha cannon, the sun shining laser-bright through the hole in the Reformer, the shield-churned waves, the incongruously placid sky ¨C and the thousand minute details his Stingray''s onboard computer filled the mecha''s screens with.


    He juked away from a stream of fire and almost unconsciously punched a cannon shell into the attacker. The mecha exploded into a mess of smoke and fire, tumbling toward the platform or the ocean. Jack didn''t see which it hit first as he brought the Stingray about to find another target.


    Jack hadn''t strapped into a military mecha since his resignation from the Devil Rays a decade and a half ago, and hadn''t fought even a mecha-on-mecha brawl with the rougher customers in the salvage business for over a year.


    With Otto''s brother out of contact, the Oligarch believed Jack the eighth-best mechaneer on the Algreil Aerospace platform, rusty or no.


    All fine and well, but there was a difference between respecting the abilities of a man you''d recently kidnapped and putting him in the cockpit of a mecha worth at least a couple gigamarks ¨C not to mention capable of avenging a kidnapping with one shot from its anti-mecha missiles.


    Leave it to Otto Abeir Algreil to take the risky course.


    Leave it to Jack Hughes to take him up on it.


    Speaking of which ¨C


    Jack dodged around a blast of cannon fire from an incoming Fed. He snapped off a shot that severed the enemy mecha''s drop cable. It couldn''t maintain altitude on thrusters designed for zero gee maneuvering, but Jack didn''t follow up to see if mecha or pilot survived the plummet to the arcology.


    Four other Feds focused their fire on Jack''s Stingray. He winced as rounds accelerated through compressed space glanced off the relatively thin armor of his wing-arms. He didn''t crash. He figured Algreil Aerospace must have upgraded the ''ray''s defenses. If he''d been that sloppy during the Civil War, he''d have expected to lose a wing.


    "I can''t believe I let Otto rope me into this," Jack repeated. He was supposed to be rooting for the Senate, not fighting against it!


    But like the Oligarch said, the Animus Hunters worked for the Senate. The people out to hurt Chloe worked for the Senate. Jack might have supported them all his life, but they sure as hell hadn''t returned the favor.


    Now he had no choice.


    He cracked off two shots in quick succession, getting a better feel for the recoil of the Stingray''s rifle. Heavier than he remembered. Better muzzle velocity, he supposed, the equivalent of ''range'' in frictionless space, but it took some getting used to.


    Both shots crashed into dropping Feds. They kept dropping, no longer under their own power.


    Jack had never seen so many mecha, at least on the other side. The Devil Rays had usually gone up against one or two nobs and a couple dozen men-at-arms ¨C many of the latter, he thought with a frown, hybrids. Being outnumbered offered dozens of new ways to die.


    The Feds, lacking the Devil Rays'' atmospheric maneuverability, seemed uninterested in doing more than spraying and praying. Their squat mecha descended as fast as they could without slipping from their cables.


    Ellie! Jack risked a glance at the main office of the Algreil arcology. So far, none of the Feds had taken a shot at it ¨C or crashed into it ¨C, but stray bullets clanged off its roof. Armored. Thank the Principle for small favors.


    Couldn''t hold for long, though.


    Otto claimed his people would evacuate, that the Devil Rays were simply covering their retreat. He claimed his people would take Ellie with them. He claimed they would treat her right.


    Since the disaster at the Wellach Cup, Otto had kept his promises. Jack and Ellie had shared a suite and been given no Limiters. As long as they stayed on the Algreil arcology, they were free to walk around and see the sights.


    All Jack could do now was pray the oligarch intended to keep on keeping promises.


    A burst of automatic rifle fire snapped his attention back to the battle. He dove underneath the barrage and quickly snapped his wing-arms forward to aim and fire. He plummeted half the distance to the platform before he locked the Stingray''s signature features back into the aerodynamic shape that made the machine such a demon in atmosphere. Didn''t stop him from following the targeting computer''s directions and plugging the attacking Fed, though.


    He soared upwards again, giving him a moment''s view of the Reformer. The destroyer''s kilometer-long wedge listed slightly from where the Algreil atomic cannon had burned into it. Jack could only hope the Feds hadn''t kept the Mother Goose aboard the larger ship. If they had, he''d probably lost the ship for good.


    A mecha obscured his view ¨C a black and gold mecha with sufficiently powerful wing-thrusters to move in atmosphere under its own power.


    Jack spun away, too slow to keep the Divine Auric Drake''s monomolecular polearm from shearing away part of one wing-arm.


    Cursing, Jack brought his mecha up and snapped its wing-arms out. The thrusters still worked, at least. He kept himself hovering, facing off with Marcel Avalon.


    The admiral''s voice rolled across an open communications channel. "Algreil Aerospace mechaneers," he said, "your situation is hopeless. Your defiance of the popular will shames you, your reckless endangerment of yourselves and the members of your corporate family condemns you. Still, I offer you this last chance: surrender now, deliver the Hughes family to me, and abate the wrath of those who should be your guardians."


    Jack didn''t respond.


    Otto did. "You have yet to produce one shred of official sanction for this attack, Marcel," the oligarch said. "You''re the one whose situation is hopeless ¨C not only am I going to personally kick your ass, I''m then going to personally drag said ass before President Ferrill and watch her court martial you in front of the whole senate to cover her''s."


    Avalon heaved a deep sigh.


    He said, "So be it."


    The Reformer''s main guns flared. Jack winced away from his screen as it filled with light.


    For an awful second, he though Avalon''s ship intended to punch straight through the Algreil shields ¨C and that it could pull it off.


    When his vision cleared, he realized his mistake.


    It didn''t make him feel much better.


    The Reformer''s guns couldn''t break the arcology''s shields, but they could blind the mechaneers defending it. Under the cover of the exploding shells, the destroyer''s surviving mecha bays disgorged another wave of Federal mecha. Another hundred, added to the seventy or eighty already approaching the arcology.


    Jack had the uncomfortable feeling he knew how the nobs had always felt.


    "Devil Ray Leader," he said, opening a channel to Otto. "What the hell do you plan to do about that?"


    "Not a damned thing," Otto snapped. "And close the channel unless you''ve got something worth saying."


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    "They''re gonna make it to the platform," Jack said.


    "No shit?"


    "Ellie''s down there!"


    "You will be, too, if you don''t pay attention." Otto snapped off a shot past Jack''s hovering mecha, forcing the onrushing Divine Auric Drake to halt his charge.


    Jack didn''t know if the oligarch intended to fight to the death or if, as so many times in the past, he had something up his sleeve.


    Jack didn''t have time to think about it.


    He charged the off-balance Divine Auric Drake, lashing his Stingray''s monomolecular-edged tail at the vulnerable haft of the Fed mecha''s polearm. Avalon rolled backwards and stabbed, shearing more of one of Jack''s wings away.


    The move left their mecha at close quarters, though, where the Devil Ray martial arts worked best. Jack slammed his smaller mecha up against Avalon''s and locked its hand around the overextended polearm. His tail lashed out and sliced deep into Avalon''s free arm, probing for something explosive to touch off. In the atmosphere, the whine of mecha weapons cutting into their targets grated on Jack''s ears. He cut the external audio feed before it drove him nuts.


    The Divine Auric Drake broke Jack''s grip. He smashed his fist into the head of Jack''s Stingray, rocking the smaller mecha back and dislodging its tail. A swift kick sent Jack reeling out of grappling range and left him feeling like he''d broken all his ribs and most of the rest of his bones, albeit only for a second.


    He bit back the pain and arrested his fall. If the Stingray hit the Algreil platform, he''d suffer a lot more than second-hand pains.


    "Back off, Jack." Otto''s voice crackled over the comlink. "I''ll handle the admiral. You keep his buddies off my back."


    Jack glanced at the cameras giving him a one thousand and eighty degree view of his surroundings. Otto''s Stingray blazed in from below and behind. A trio of Fed mecha apparently patterned on similar designs to the Divine Auric Drake spiraled down from above their commander, probably leading the second wave. Below, the first Feds had reached the Algreil arcology. Jack saw a pair break off toward two tiny figures at the edge of the platform. He wondered what people were doing gawking at the battle on foot.


    He took it all in with a second''s glance, then followed Otto''s orders.


    He assumed the smaller, thruster-winged mecha following Admiral Avalon were production model Wyverns, which meant their pilots were the Fed elite. They didn''t have aerodynamic wing-arms like a Stingray, but then, Jack''s ''ray retained only a feeble excuse for an airframe.


    All down to skill.


    Theirs, honed by constant simulation and skirmishes. His, originally forged in civil war, now rusty from more than a decade of disuse.


    Otto expected him to win outnumbered three to one how, exactly?


    Jack bit back a curse. He''d dissed these mechaneers alongside Otto at the tournament. Ellie would chew him out something awful if he lost to them now.


    Ellie.


    No way these bastards were gonna get to her.


    He locked his tattered wing-arms into place and shot toward the edge of the shield encircling the Algreil arcology.


    The first Fed came through on a hot burn, a spread of missiles rippling at seemingly random angles from the compressed space ahead of him. Jack launched chaff to throw those off and emerged from the cloud pointed straight at the Fed mecha. His ''ray passed within a meter of the Fed, trailing its tail. One swipe sliced off three of the starburst-like thruster-wings.


    The fourth, adequate in space, failed the mecha at one gee. A Fed pilot''s ejection seat shot out.


    Jack moved on to the next Wyvern.


    This one learned from his buddy''s mistake. He led with a pair of blades as long as a mecha''s arm. The immense swords danced in front of the onrushing Fed mecha, forming almost a solid wall of deadly monomolecular edges and composite metal.


    Jack unhooked his wing-arms, braced, and shot the Fed mecha''s left shoulder off.


    For a wonder, the Fed kept a hold of both blades. He spun around, righted himself and charged, swords first.


    Jack tried another shot, but this one went wide even with the targeting computer''s assistance. He risked flicking his gaze to the ammo readout. Crap. He couldn''t keep up this rate of fire for long. With the larger bore came heavier, and less, ammo than he''d used in the Civil War.


    Upside ¨C he''d shed more weight than he''d thought.


    He juked to the side as the Fed came on, just enough to pin the two blades to the hilt in the armor on either flank of the Stingray. Before the Fed could adjust to missing the mecha''s vital innards, Jack brought the ''ray''s fists down on the Wyvern''s shoulders. The damaged shoulder smashed clean off, taking the arm with it.


    Jack drew the blade from his flank armor as fast as if it were a scabbard and plunged it into the center of the Fed machine. Coolant sprayed from its pierced engine.


    "Nice swords," he muttered, and relieved the Wyvern of its second blade before it plummeted.


    A shell ripped through his newly armed wing-arm. The sword and most of the arm exploded in a shower of shrapnel, just south of the thruster.


    He let the momentum of the explosion carry him, then abruptly shut off his engines.


    He fell, gulping back the bile the gee forces pushed into his mouth. His inertial dampeners must have been damaged.


    The third Wyvern appeared above and behind him, on his left. Its pilot spun to line up another shot, faster than Jack had hoped. So much for using the z-axis against an inexperienced mechaneer. Maybe the Wyvern pilots were Civil War vets from the Federal side. Considering the casualties those pilots had suffered, just surviving had to speak highly of any still alive.


    Jack glanced at his fuel gauge.


    "Ah, hell."


    The shrapnel must have damaged the fuel tank on his right thruster. He didn''t have enough to make the climb again ¨C not and do more than limp a few kilometers from the battlefield. He''d lost his cannon in the scuffle.


    So he kept diving.


    The Fed hadn''t expected that. He shot three times, missed three times, dove after Jack. He came on full burn, trying to catch up.


    Jack grinned fiercely. He added his own thrusters to the mix, speeding his already terminal velocity. He dodged unconsciously, avoiding the shells the Fed rained down. They splashed into the water with great geysers.


    For a long moment, Jack surveyed the battlefield. Otto grappled with the Divine Auric Drake high overhead. Incredibly, Avalon seemed to be at least holding his own with the Oligarch. Must''ve had a few tricks he held back in the tournament. Feds crawled all over the platform, tearing the walls and ceilings from the office buildings. Only three other Devil Rays were still in the fight. Jack didn''t know if the rest had bailed out or retreated ¨C or died.


    Then the water rushed up to meet him and he stopped paying attention to any battle but his own.


    The Stingray''s screens flashed red, offering visual rather than neural indication of how much damage he''d done to himself. He''d cut the neural interface an instant before impact. Feedback shock underwater would put him down long enough to drown, and from the looks of his battered mecha, he would have been shocked into unconsciousness for sure.


    He spun in the water, gulping at the ''ray''s sluggish response. It should have moved almost as fast as in the air, even after an orbital dive. He''d done planetary insertions into water with the mecha during the Civil War.


    Of course, his mecha always started with intact armor to spread the damage around.


    The Wyvern pilot must have realized what Jack intended to do a second before impacting the water. He tried mightily to pull up. Aided by the atmospheric resistance, he managed to overcome his own momentum.


    He didn''t count on one gee, though.


    Compared to the half-dead Stingray, the Wyvern plunged into the water slowly, almost gracefully.


    The impact still tore one of its delicate thruster-wings off. It floundered as its remaining thrusters blazed into the unfamiliarly dense surroundings.


    Jack jetted his battered machine toward it. The ''ray moved painfully slow.


    The Fed had plenty of time to line up a shot with his massive cannon. His mecha''s long, dark green finger closed on the trigger.


    Jack shook his head.


    The cannon''s mechanisms were designed for vacuum and operated, barely, in atmosphere. Underwater, they jammed.


    The Fed realized his mistake and tried to hurl the cannon away, but by the time he got it out of his grasp, Jack''s mecha slammed into his. Even with one good fist and a mecha full of damaged systems, Jack had the edge underwater. He gripped the Wyvern''s crescent head.


    "Steal my ship, will ya," he snarled. "Threaten my little girl, will ya?!"


    He tore the Wyvern''s head off and hurled it toward the seabed invisible in the depths below.


    His gaze followed the mecha''s head as it tumbled toward the undersea spire of the Algreil complex. Past the submarine shuttles taking Otto''s people ¨C and Ellie, merciful Principle, and Ellie ¨C to safety.


    The head fell and fell, its ejection mechanism either damaged or unable to operate underwater.


    Until, at last, it clunked off something below. A deeper darkness rising from the Stygian world-ocean.


    Jack''s eyes widened.


    A second Federal destroyer bubbled up from the deep.

 Chapter 22: With A Bang

    Chapter 22: With A Bang


    Chloe whispered, "No."


    Everywhere around her, Devil Rays fell, Fed mecha exploded, cannon roared, buildings burned. The Divine Auric Drake ripped an arm from the Devil Ray he''d been wrestling with and tossed the crippled mecha away.


    All because of her.


    Chloe screamed, "No!"


    She stretched her hand out as the Black Rook had at the tournament. If she, too, was noble-born, the same power should flow through her. For a moment, she felt sure the air shuddered with psions gathering as telekinetic force, and she fixed hand and mind on the Reformer coming about over the complex.


    For an instant, she felt, or imagined, a surge of power.


    Then Rudy snatched her hand back.


    She whirled on him. "I can ¨C"


    "Get yourself killed?" He pulled her forward so suddenly, she hardly realized what was happening before his face hovered a centimeter from hers. "Not on my watch."


    "I can save them!"


    "Otto can damn well save himself ¨C but it''s gonna get ugly before he does. Especially if you start throwing around the mojo and bring an Animus Hunter down on our heads." He gave her the courtesy of answering ¨C not of letting go. "You gonna cooperate? Or do I have to knock you out to knock some sense into you?"


    "Your company, though ¨C"


    "Is that a no, Clo?"


    She said nothing.


    "Everything''s gonna be okay," he said. "Promise. But we have to go."


    She stared deep into his electric blue eyes.


    She nodded.


    "Get on, then." Rudy released her and vaulted onto his cycle. Its engine roared to life.


    Gingerly, Chloe climbed up behind him. She felt its reactive gel slither up her meld with her flight suit, but she still wrapped her arms around him. The trip out had been nerve-wracking enough without pursuit.


    "Good girl," Rudy said. "Now keep your mask up and hold on. No matter what."


    Even through the nanomachine fabric covering her face, the wind hit with uncomfortable force.


    Rudy had told her to hold on. No matter what.


    He''d also told her everything would be okay.


    She didn''t see any indication he''d been right on the latter count, but she didn''t have the guts to see if he''d been wrong on the former.


    Nothing could have prepared her for Rudy on the run. They shot into the tunnel, jumping almost instantly to close to three hundred kilometers an hour ¨C and climbing. Spacecraft accelerated far faster, of course. They did it with inertial dampeners to shield their occupants from the gees, though, and the next spacecraft Chloe figured she could fall off of would be the first.


    They kept accelerating.


    Chloe wondered how fast the cycle could go.


    She wondered how fast it could safely go ¨C and by how much Rudy planned to exceed that speed.


    She wondered if, all altruism aside, she wouldn''t have been better off staying and trying her hand at the fighting arts she should have inherited from the mechaneer-aristocracy.


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    "How we doing back there?" Rudy called. His voice in her suit''s speakers sounded tiny compared to the air roaring past in the tunnel. Somehow, he managed to sound nonchalant anyway.


    "I''ve been better."


    He laughed. "Nervous?"


    "What do you think?"


    "It''s not as bad as it seems. We won''t be in any danger unless somebody comes after us."


    "Any chance they won''t?"


    "Probably not," Rudy admitted. He sounded almost cheerful. Hyped up on adrenaline, she figured. "They''ll never catch us at this speed, though."


    Chloe swallowed her sigh.


    The tunnel began to shake a few minutes later. At first, Chloe thought it was Rudy shifting into a new gear.


    Then she heard him curse.


    "What is it?" she asked.


    "Don''t ask."


    Chloe risked a glance over her shoulder. The tunnel bowed deep into the water, so she couldn''t see far. She could hear, though. Something rumbled behind them.


    She asked, "Is it pursuit?"


    "No."


    "You know what it is?"


    "Yeah."


    As the sound grew louder, Chloe figured it out, too.


    "Sweet Principle," she hissed. "The fission bombs!"


    "Hoped you wouldn''t figure it out, Clo," Rudy said. "It''s¡­ it''s gonna be tough getting out of here before the shockwave hits."


    "Will it matter if we do? Won''t the whole highway sink?"


    "Nah. If we get out of the tunnel, we''ll be good. Every section of highway is buoyant on its own. The Wellachan founders weren''t that stupid."


    If they got out of the tunnel. They''d spent more than ten minutes in it on the way to the arcology.


    She had a feeling Rudy was going a lot faster this time.


    She couldn''t imagine it would be fast enough.


    She didn''t dare watch, so she buried her face in Rudy''s back and held on tight. If she had to die, she could think of worse ways than holding him tight until the instant she was vaporized. She doubted she''d ever even feel it.


    Mom, Dad, she thought, if I don''t make it, I''m sorry I couldn''t save you.


    Maybe the Feds would let them go when they learned she was dead.


    If they learned. A fission bomb wouldn''t leave anything to identify, would it?


    The rumbling behind grew louder. The gee forces of Rudy''s acceleration tore at her arms.


    The sound rose to a crescendo. Crumpling metal and roaring wind and killing heat and force and radiation boiling up behind them.


    It was not, she decided, a good way to go.


    Merciful Principle, she prayed, if this is the end of the pattern of my days, look after Mom and Dad. Pattern them a way out if I cannot give them one. And, if You could keep Rudy safe, somehow ¨C


    Rudy''s whoop of triumph startled her from her prayers.


    She looked up.


    The bike shot from the tunnel like a shell from a capital ship''s main gun. It roared into the open highway outside, shot so high she could see over the half-pipe wall for an instant, slammed back to the metal highway.


    An explosion followed them.


    The tunnel shaped the blast even as it was consumed by it. Chloe saw metal she''d ridden across seconds ago crumple like tissue paper. Most of the blast vomited from the opening she and Rudy had just escaped, a dragon''s-breath eruption of deafening sound and searing heat and crushing force. It ripped the shattered tunnel from the highway and hurled a huge chunk of metal and glass into the air.


    The highway bent with the explosion, lifting from the water. It hung suspended just long enough for Chloe''s stomach to start to adjust to hanging upside down, then, inevitably, crashed back to water. Battered, mangled, listing, leaking ¨C


    Afloat.


    Rudy wrenched the bike to a stop. A kilometer of screeching breaks later, it bumped into the next bend in the highway. Water from the hole in the highway pooled near the smoking tires, hissing where it touched them.


    "We made it," Chloe gasped when her brain wrapped around the concept. She leaned back and held up her hands, gazing wonderingly at her intact body.


    "Told you," Rudy said. He laughed nervously, almost hysterically. She wondered how long relief and adrenaline would keep him going, and how hard he would crash when they wore off. "Told you I''m a good driver, right?"


    "You''re a great driver," she said. "The best driver ever. And you''re right about speed restrictions."


    "Always," Rudy said. His mask slid back. He craned his neck to look at her, a tired grin on his face. It faded as his eyes trained on something behind her back.


    Chloe twisted in her seat.


    A hundred kilometers behind them, a mushroom cloud unfurled in the Wellachan skies, a tombstone for the Algreil arcology and anyone on it. Any of the employees who hadn''t escaped. Any of the Fed mechaneers who landed to search. Maybe all of them, Marcel Avalon and his men, the Devil Rays and Rudy''s brother, all dead ¨C


    Over Chloe.


    "Principle, Rudy," she whispered. "What are we going to do?"


    For once, he didn''t have an answer.

 Chapter 23: Ancestry

    Chapter 23: Ancestry


    Ellie stared at the dark green composite of the bulkhead.


    The Feds hadn''t even bothered with limiters. She, and the Algreil Aerospace employees with her, knew better than to try anything. Civilian uprisings against destroyer crews generally fared poorly.


    Two destroyer crews, she thought, laughing and sobbing a little at the idea.


    So much firepower, so many men, so much trouble ¨C all over Chloe Hughes.


    Ellie missed her so much.


    She realized she was letting her thoughts wander and forced them back into line. She didn''t dare think too much, or else she''d start comparing her present captivity to the one she''d endured during the Civil War. A decade and a half later, she still couldn''t bear to think about those awful months in a Federal VCL ¨C Valuable Confiscated Livestock ¨C camp.


    She shuddered.


    A gruff voice pierced the fog of unwanted memories. "You''re the cat Jack ended up with, eh?"


    Ellie glanced to her right. A grizzled older man in an Algreil mechanic''s uniform shared the cell with her.


    "I''m Jack''s wife," she said. She wanted to muster righteous wrath, but the appearance of the second destroyer and being separated from her husband left her too tired to try.


    "So they tell me," the mechanic said. He extended a rough hand, almost as big as Jack''s. "Name''s Boss."


    Ellie smiled weakly and shook the offered hand. At least he made the attempt, unlike his Oligarchical boss. "Ellie," she said. "Is that your actual name?"


    "A man''s name is what people call him, Ma''am," the mechanic said. "And people call me Boss."


    "I doubt the Feds will."


    He shrugged. "They can call me dog shit for all I care. Bastards all, that lot. Begging your pardon for the language."


    Ellie nodded. If they''d only left Chloe alone! She couldn''t hurt a fly, much less the ''peace and equality of the Federated Stars.''


    Boss said, "You''re that girl''s mother, too."


    Ellie looked up. "Excuse me?"


    "Chloe Hughes. The one the fuss is all about." He whistled. "She must be really something special."


    "She sure is," Ellie said.


    "I''d''a never guessed it to look at her," Boss said.


    Ellie''s eyes lit up. She reached across the cell and grabbed the mechanic''s big hands. "You''ve seen my daughter?" Horror filled her. "Is she here?"


    "Not here, Ma''am," Boss said. "At the tournament, though I didn''t know it then, of course. The Feds raked me over the coals on the matter, not that I could tell ''em a bit they didn''t already know."


    "She was with Ot¡­ Mr. Algreil''s brother, right?"


    Boss nodded. "Mr. Rudolf paraded her around like his own special prize ¨C not that I blame him, mind, for she''s a right pretty thing, a genuine classy lady. Not a bit like his usual fangirls."


    Ellie winced. She recalled Otto Algreil''s description of his brother. The responsibility of a five year old and the testosterone of a fifteen year old. "There must be some mistake," she said. "It''s only been¡­"


    She realized she''d lost track of time while under the influence of the Algreil limiters. "How long ago did your company take me and Jack?"


    "Four weeks," Boss said.


    "Chloe wouldn''t hook up with some man in just a month," Ellie snapped.


    "As to that, I can''t say," Boss said. "I got the impression she didn''t give him anything more''n a smile and a kind word, if that''s what''s worrying you."


    Ellie breathed a sigh of relief.


    "She did seem mighty attached to Mr. Rudolf, though," Boss continued. "I''m not sure I''d have had the guts to climb into the cockpit of that deathtrap and pull the poor fool out. She didn''t even hesitate."


    "Chloe would help anyone, Boss," Ellie said. "That''s how Jack and I raised her. But frankly, we didn''t have to do much to steer her down the right track. She''s a wonderful girl."


    "You''re spacers, aren''t you? Jack was, I know, and I can tell it rubbed off on you." Boss grinned. "Speaking as someone who used to be before he got suckered into the ''corporate family,'' forgive me if I say I hope your Chloe stays attached to Mr. Rudolf."


    So Boss was a spacer himself? His casual attitude toward hybrids ¨C from the automatic, unthinking slur ''cat'' to ''Ma''am'' in just one sentence ¨C was typical of the free traders, smugglers and salvagers who lived a nomadic existence among the stars.


    Wishing what sounded like a fate worse than death on another spacer''s daughter, on the other hand, seemed quite out of character. She asked, "Why?"


    "''Cause Mr. Rudolf, if you''ll pardon my saying so, Ma''am, could use a good woman to settle him down."


    Ellie laughed. "I don''t doubt that, Boss. You''ll forgive me, though, if I say I hope he finds someone other than my daughter."


    Before the mechanic could answer, the door to their cell slid open.


    Three Federal Marines, their composite body armor almost a perfect miniature of the line mecha, filled the doorway. They parted to allow a navy officer to pass. Ellie, used to flight suits, barely recognized the uniform coat and trousers of a capital ship''s crew. Only the Ouroboros on his chest told her he was a Fed.


    "This felid is the one?" the navy man asked.


    One of the marines saluted. "Yes, sir."


    The navy man glared at Ellie. "What kind of man," he said, "calls a creature like this his wife? This Jack Hughes must be some kind of deviant."


    Ellie wondered if he realized she could understand him. She wondered if he wanted to provoke her.


    Boss''s hand tightened on her arm. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly.


    He needn''t have worried. It took more than petty insults to get Ellie''s hackles up. She''d faced far, far worse the last time she enjoyed Federal hospitality.


    "I am Ellie Hughes," she said calmly. She rose and presented her unbound hands. "What can I do for you, Sir?"


    The naval man recoiled as though slapped. Apparently he''d never heard a hybrid speak before. Ignorant, then, rather than actively trying to provoke.


    "You, uh, can come with us. The Admiral wants to see you."


    "I understand." Ellie spoke precisely, enunciating each syllable, making sure the Fed heard just how well she could speak. Let him ruminate on that for a while. Someday, he might understand, too.


    First time for everything.


    "Shall we go, Sir?" Ellie asked, dripping faux-politeness.


    The naval man cleared his throat. "Y, yes. This way." He took a step back to allow the marines to flank her, as though he expected her to go berserk and tear him apart. Maybe he did.


    Ellie couldn''t entirely blame him for his nerves. She doubted he''d ever seen combat before, and the Reformer, at least, had surely lost crew to the Algreil fission cannon.


    "You be careful, Ma''am," Boss called. "Jack and that girl of yours will be expecting you back when this mess gets sorted."


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    "I will, Boss." She smiled back at the mechanic, accepted his flashed thumbs-up. "You take care, too."


    She wanted to thank him, but didn''t have time to find the words.


    He''d seen Chloe firsthand! He''d thought her impressively brave ¨C though Ellie wished she hadn''t risked herself ¨C and a good match for his employer''s brother. He was a spacer, too, a man whose opinion Ellie could respect.


    Chloe would be okay. Even if she couldn''t reunite with her parents, she''d find a way to survive and a life of her own.


    Chloe had to be okay.


    Ellie found herself almost smiling as she followed the marines and the naval man down the dark halls of the destroyer. They led her to a series of tubes much like a Wellachan gravlev station and guided her to one. The right one, she assumed, though how they navigated the maze of their immense ship she couldn''t begin to guess.


    Like a gravlev, the little car they escorted her to hovered above the floor and dampened what had to be phenomenal acceleration. Ellie barely had time to register the dozen tangled tube stations they passed before at last coming to a stop. If she''d had some hope of navigating the hallways, the tubes left her completely confused.


    Her acute senses, confused by the images flashing past, made her slightly queasy. They told her she should be suffering inertia enough to squish her against the walls of the car, yet she felt nothing. She paused to steady herself before disembarking.


    "Hurry it up, cat," the navy man growled. "The admiral is waiting."


    Ellie''s ear twitched. So much for improving his opinion of hybrids.


    She did as he asked, though. Antagonizing him could only cause more trouble.


    Fortunately, they walked down only a few block''s worth of hallways before stopping at a pair of double doors.


    "Inside," the navy man said.


    Ellie approached the doors. They slid open to reveal what she at first took for a secondary bridge. A huge screen filled one wall, displaying the view outside the destroyer: Wellach''s stratosphere, the color of Chloe''s eyes, broken up by the lights of the Reformer parked beside its sister ship. The destroyers must have risen after the battle. Did they fear a reprisal? Did Algreil Aerospace have the resources to pull one off?


    Since Jack''s fate rested with his former company now, Ellie hoped they had the resources, but chose not to use them. He''d endangered himself enough for one day without flying off on some damn fool rescue mission.


    "Mrs. Hughes," said the man seated at the center of the room. His voice immediately commanded her attention, even more in person than through the speakers in Otto Algreil''s office. Rich, melodic, almost hypnotic ¨C and familiar. The voice of Marcel Avalon, the Divine Auric Drake. "Please come in."


    Mechanically, Ellie stepped into the room.


    Her escorts followed. "Admiral," the navy man said, saluting smartly.


    Admiral Avalon''s chair swiveled. His hair was plastered to his head by sweat, he wore a smudged flight suit in place of a naval uniform, dark circles ringed his amber eyes, blood daubed his chin ¨C and he still took Ellie''s breath away.


    I''m getting too old to react like this, she thought. Then, thank the Principle he wasn''t the one to capture Chloe! Ellie couldn''t have blamed her daughter for falling for the admiral''s extraordinary charms.


    "I''ve brought the ''breed," her navy escort said, "as per your request."


    Avalon rose. He towered over Ellie and the navy man and stood taller even than the marines in their body armor.


    The navy man shrank back from his superior''s glare.


    "I did not ask you to bring ''the ''breed,'' Lieutenant," Avalon said. "I asked you to bring Ellie Hughes, the wife of a Civil War hero. I see you have, apparently by mistake, fulfilled your orders. Fortunate, as I find myself somewhat short of patience under the circumstances."


    His voice was more than intoxicating, Ellie decided. He expressed menace as convincingly as he did appeal. He must have trained in some memetic art to tap into the human brain at the most elemental level.


    The navy man stammered out a "Sir" and a shaky salute.


    "You are dismissed, gentlemen," Avalon said. "I would speak with Mrs. Hughes alone."


    His subordinates vanished, leaving Ellie alone with their admiral.


    She realized she should be terrified of Avalon, realized she wasn''t only because his extraordinary voice had been tuned to put her at ease rather than frighten her. He could not control her mind the way a powerful telepath might ¨C she hoped ¨C but he could influence her emotions so powerfully as to come close.


    Recognizing the manipulation gave her some small defense against it.


    She hoped.


    "Please, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said, "make yourself comfortable. I cannot begin to apologize for the anguish I have caused your family, but at least accept such hospitality as I can offer."


    Ellie sank into one of the chairs. The reactive gel startled her, conforming to the contours of her body until she felt more comfortable than she had in ¨C how long? A decade and a half, at least, since she''d enjoyed this kind of seat.


    She rebelled against the comfort as she did Avalon''s voice. All tricks, she was sure, to get her to betray Chloe.


    She said, "If you want me to tell you where Chloe is, Admiral, you''re wasting your time. You know as much as me. She''s apparently with the younger Algreil brother."


    "I did hope you could tell me," Avalon said, "but that is not why I asked you here."


    "Why, then?"


    "As I said ¨C to apologize."


    "You can''t mean that."


    "No?" He raised a platinum eyebrow. "On the contrary, Mrs. Hughes. What''s been done to your family shames me. You have been separated, and now that separation may have become permanent."


    Ellie''s response froze on her lips. Jack? Or Chloe?


    Oh, Principle, no. Not that, not either of them, please ¨C


    She whispered, "What do you mean?"


    "Did your husband fly with the Devil Rays this afternoon, Mrs. Hughes?"


    Ellie didn''t answer.


    "Six of their number fell," Avalon said, "but my men have found only three ¨C all dead, none of them Jack Hughes or Otto Algreil. I confess, the mechaneer in me hopes I have faced such legends and prevailed, and the man in me prays your husband at least escaped the engagement."


    Jack would survive. He''d promised he would come back.


    But Admiral Avalon didn''t have to know that. She said, "You believe Jack would fight against the Senate? He''s always been loyal, always a patriot. He believed in your damned government, Admiral, and what has it gotten him?"


    "Then I am truly sorry, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said, "for if your husband did not fight and is not among our captives, then he is surely dead."


    "W, what¡­?"


    "Otto Algreil rigged his arcology''s supply of fission bombs to explode once his people escaped. All those who attempted escape by sea were tracked and apprehended by this ship, the Constitution." Avalon closed his eyes. "I lost many of my best mechaneers to the blast, and anyone still on the arcology died with them. Had the Reformer alone been present to redirect the blast, we might all have died."


    No one had remained in the Algreil facility, Ellie knew. She found herself wanting to tell Avalon as much, to assuage what guilt she could.


    She reminded herself the admiral had plenty to answer for.


    "So, if your husband did not fight, there is no hope for him." Avalon hung his head. "Principle! I always admired Jack Hughes as a man of courage and conviction. A man I would have been honored to call friend ¨C and now I find myself confessing to his wife I was the catalyst of his death!"


    "How could you imagine you could call him friend, Admiral, when you want to take his daughter away? When you send Animus Hunters to terrify her ¨C to terrify all of us?"


    "I did not send Errard Zelph," Avalon said. He strode to Ellie''s side and bowed deeply. "Mrs. Hughes, you must believe me. The Senate is divided ¨C terribly divided ¨C and your daughter has become the catalyst for this division. President Ferrill personally dispatched me to find your daughter before the likes of Errard Zelph, or Otto Algreil, could."


    Ellie frowned. "I don''t understand."


    "Your daughter, Mrs. Hughes, could cause terrible harm." Avalon held up a hand to forestall Ellie''s rejoinder. "I know what you''ll say. That she would not do so. That you have raised her right, taught her faithfulness and humility. I believe you, as does President Ferrill.


    "There are those, however, who would not ask your daughter for her power, or accept that she will not use it." Avalon raised his mesmerizing leonine eyes. "They would compel her power, Mrs. Hughes, or steal it. They would shake the peace and equality of our galaxy to the core with such power, and unleash a terrible evil on every man, woman and child within it ¨C your daughter most of all.


    "I came here to prevent this tragedy," Avalon continued. "Instead, I have caused nothing but more tragedies. I have shattered your family and your confidence in the Federated Stars, driven your husband to one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy and your daughter to that man''s brother. Principle! Mrs. Hughes, I wanted to apologize, but can I but beg your forgiveness?"


    "Who am I to grant you forgiveness," Ellie asked. She leaned forward and stretched her hand toward his tensed shoulder.


    She jerked her hand back, horrified.


    In minutes, Avalon had compelled such closeness as Ellie had felt only a handful of times in her life.


    She couldn''t fight his memetic manipulation, she realized. Avalon had her wrapped around his little finger, and she knew it, and she couldn''t stop it. When he asked for sympathy, instincts coded into her brain, to her very nervous system, demanded she give it.


    She wasn''t even sure he intended it.


    Principle! What was Marcel Avalon?


    "You are someone I have wronged, Mrs. Hughes ¨C Ellie." He clasped her hand and pressed his forehead to her fingers. "Now, because of my mistakes, I may have to do you still more wrong. I must beg forgiveness not only for what I have done ¨C for making an enemy of your family ¨C but for what I may yet do. I must stop your daughter from using her power against the Senate, Ellie, and the Principle only knows how or by what means."


    "What power, Admiral?" Ellie demanded. "I know Chloe''s a noblewoman, but she''s hardly unique in that regard. What makes her so important to you and the Senate and the Animus Hunters?" And to Otto Abeir Algreil?


    "You truly don''t know?"


    "I don''t," Ellie said.


    "Your Chloe is far more than a noblewoman, Ellie." Avalon raised his eyes to hers. He smiled sadly. "She is the sole heir to the Astroykos Empire."

 Chapter 24: Breaking Point

    Chapter 24: Breaking Point


    Chloe''s flight suit sloughed off water as Rudy eased the mag-cycle off the streets of the port village. The leaking, nuclear-ravaged highway had flooded over her head at times. Fortunately, the mag-cycle, and her and Rudy''s flight suits, worked underwater. More fortunately, Rudy had been right about the wisdom of the Wellachan founders: the highways flooded, but they did not sink.


    Chloe resisted the urge to shake the remnants of Wellach''s world-ocean from her. Rudy had cautioned against making noise.


    "Hell of a ride, eh, Clo." He sounded tired and sullen and painfully loud. His words echoed off wet metal walls and the open ocean at the far end of the alley and up toward the distant sunlight reflecting off the spires flanking them.


    She put a finger to her lips.


    He tossed an exhausted wave. "Screw it. We''re out of hot water for the moment."


    "How can you possibly know that?"


    "Same way I could possibly know the bike would work underwater," he said, sighing. "I guessed."


    Chloe wanted to argue. She started to speak. She ended up slumping on the steps leading up to one of the buildings, head in her hands, legs splayed. Her whole body ached from the wind resistance she''d endured when they fled the exploding platform. Choice muscles and bones promised extra soreness and bruises where the bike smashed into her during its frantic twists and jumps.


    And the Feds had hit Algreil Aerospace over her.


    That last hurt worse than all the aches and pains in the world.


    She felt Rudy''s hand on her shoulder. "You okay, Clo?"


    She shook her head.


    He sat beside her. His arm snaked around her shoulders. "You gonna be okay?"


    "Yeah." She ducked out of his embrace without even thinking about it, shifted to face him. "Will your company? Your brother?"


    "I told you, Otto can take care of himself."


    "He can''t fight the Feds, Rudy," Chloe said. "Not and win."


    "Maybe." Rudy sheathed his mask and ran his fingers through his spiky red hair. "Looked to me like he''s been planning this for quite a while."


    "Because of what happened to Kalder-Black?"


    "Among other things."


    Chloe cocked her head, but he offered no further explanation.


    She said, "Why would the Feds think your brother had me?"


    Rudy looked away. "Maybe they didn''t," he said. "Maybe they found out about those milspec weapons at the Algreil arcology."


    And maybe you believe that, Chloe thought, but if so, why not meet my eyes when you say it?


    Had he told Algreil Aerospace about her? Had he planned on revealing her identity to his brother ¨C or, more likely, had he already done it?


    If so, why the crazy story about ''going to see an old friend of her dad''s?'' If Rudy thought he could get his company''s considerable resources behind the search, why wouldn''t he say so?


    Instead, he said, "What now?"


    Chloe searched for an answer.


    An answer found her.


    After almost a month without a strong hunch, this one flooded her mind like none she''d ever had. She could almost see her destination: a deeper darkness looming over the black of deep space, an inactive ship, a hulk, a silvery mecha within, glowing with inner fire ¨C


    "I know where I have to go," she said.


    "And that is¡­?"


    "A battlecruiser."


    Rudy laughed wanly. "You back to ''turning yourself in,'' Clo?"


    "Not a Federal one," she said. "An Imperial one. A hulk. Where my parents found me."


    "What''s there for you?"


    "Knowledge and power." The answers flooded her brain. She wasn''t sure most of the words were hers. The feeling unnerved her more than she wanted to admit.


    "Both sound pretty good at this point. When do we leave?"


    "I have to go alone," Chloe said. "Too many people have been hurt because of me already."


    "Fine."


    She looked up, startled from the semi-trance state she''d fallen into.


    "Fine," he repeated. He stood, stalked to the bike and started to push it toward the water.


    "What are you doing?"


    "What does it look like? This sucker is marked. I don''t have time to fence it. If we''re breaking things off here, I''ve gotta find my brother and probably prep for a war."


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    He really meant to leave? Chloe choked back the unjustified anger and the entirely justified fear flooding her. She''d asked him to leave often enough. To follow her hunch, she needed him to leave.


    Asking, needing and wanting proved entirely different things.


    "Before I do, though," he said, "answer me one question: how?"


    "Pardon?"


    "How do you plan on getting to this phantom battlecruiser? Let''s review what you''re working with here." He leaned against the bike and crossed his arms over his chest. "Stop me if I get any of this wrong. You have no ship, no mecha, no legal ID you can use, no marks, no contacts, no influence, no way to get any of the above, no proof of your claim the cruiser is still there ¨C and no chance."


    I have a hunch, Chloe thought. It suffices.


    "The only thing you''ve got, Chloe, is yours truly." He pushed off from the bike. It rolled into the water with a spalsh. With its engine off, it immediately plunged beneath the crystalline blue waves. "So maybe you could be a little more grateful."


    "How is it gratitude to put you in even more danger? Your whole life may have been destroyed because of me!"


    "And leaving now makes that better how?"


    "Things won''t get worse."


    "The hell they won''t!" He strode back to her and grabbed her by the shoulders before she even realized he was moving. Chloe winced as his fingers pressed her sore muscles. He didn''t seem to notice. "I''ve gone through hell for you, Chloe Rina Hughes! I lost a tournament ¨C again ¨C because you were here, I lost my bike because you rode it, I got nuked because you were with me, I maybe lost my brother and corporate gravy train because the Feds thought you were with him. I may be out of work and an outlaw besides, so you can kiss tournaments goodbye, and fame and fortune and fangirls ¨C oh, yeah, my whole life is a damned wreck because of you. And what do I have to show for it? Not a single, solitary thing."


    Chloe drew herself up. ¡°Except saving your life!¡±


    ¡°So you fixed at least one of the messes you yourself said you caused,¡± Rudy snapped. ¡°I better fall down on my damned knees and thank you.¡±


    Chloe''s shoulders slumped.


    He was right, wasn''t he?


    If she hadn''t come to Wellach, neither the Black Rook nor the Animus Hunter would have, either. Rudy had said otherwise once, when he still cared about making her feel better.


    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± Chloe whispered.


    "You''re sorry?" Rudy barked a laugh. "Sorry doesn''t begin to cut it, babe."


    "Sorry''s all I''ve got to give! You said yourself there''s nothing I can do to get to the battlecruiser. How could you expect some kind of payment?"


    Rudy shook his head. "Sorry''s all you''re willing to give, you mean."


    Chloe stared. Then she shoved his hands away. "That''s what this is about? Getting me in bed? I am sorry, Mr. Algreil ¨C but not sorry enough to do something I don''t think is right."


    "Your damned spacer morality means more to you than all the crap I''ve taken for you?"


    "My parents mean more to me," Chloe said. "I will not disappoint them."


    "Like they''d ever know ¨C"


    "So that''s how it is? It starts with sleeping with you. Then it''s lying to my parents. Or did you mean giving up on finding them?" Chloe spun away from him. "Either way, it just proves they were right to warn me about guys like you."


    She hesitated, tensed, angry and scared and powerfully, inexplicably miserable.


    Rudy said nothing.


    Slowly, Chloe started for the archway separating them from the street. She concentrated on setting one foot in front of the other.


    She almost made it to the arch.


    "Wait," he said.


    She stopped. Didn''t turn. Didn''t dare.


    Her parents couldn''t have warned her enough, she thought.


    Rudy asked, "Where do you think you''re going?"


    "Away," she said.


    "No."


    "That''s not your decision ¨C"


    He spun her around and pressed her against the arcology wall, uncomfortably close. "You think so, huh?"


    "Rudy, you''re hurting me ¨C!"


    "And you''re killing me, Clo," he said.


    "If you touch me," she snapped, "Principle as my witness, I will kill you."


    "Touch you?" He shook his head. "Nah, that''s not my style. You can keep your spacer morality and die an old maid for all I give a damn. But I am not your nob, your knight in shining armor. I am my father''s son and my brother''s brother, an oligarch born and raised. Not because we''re born with mystical powers. No, Chloe ¨C Miss Hughes ¨C because we are the canniest, toughest, meanest sons of bitches in the galaxy.


    "I told you when we first met. I am not helping you because you need help, or because you''re cute, or because I get my kicks out of doing good deeds." The blue flame was gone from his eyes. They were hard and cold, matching his mocking twist of a smile. "I am helping you for equivalent exchange."


    Chloe shuddered.


    "I will have my equivalent exchange, Miss Hughes," Rudy continued, his voice ice, his grip on her shoulder steel. "I appear to have lost my company and my family and my job and my fame to the Feds. You will get them back for me or give me the power to do so."


    Chloe managed to squeeze out a "How?"


    "Knowledge and power, and knowledge is power," Rudy said. "The Feds seem to think you''re more than just an ordinary nob. You seem to think you can figure out how to use that more than ordinary power. Right?"


    "R, right," she stammered.


    "Bully for you. When you do, you will use it for Algreil Aerospace. You will force the Feds to pardon the company and all involved. Or, if Otto is starting a new Civil War, you will win it for us."


    "That''s too big for me ¨C"


    "The Feds don''t seem to think so."


    "Then they''re wrong!"


    "You better hope," Rudy said, "you''re the one who''s wrong."


    He stepped back, giving her room to slump against the wall and suck in a breath. She gazed after him through eyes rapidly clouding with tears.


    "You''re not gonna be my lover," he said. "Fine. You''re no longer my friend, either, because right now I can¡¯t afford one. As of this moment, Miss Hughes, you¡¯re my employee."

 Chapter 25: Sides

    Chapter 25: Sides


    "A second destroyer? Underwater?" Otto Algreil pounded his fist on the table. "The slick son of a bitch!"


    Jack didn''t say anything. He''d fought. He''d guided his battered Stingray to the meeting point Otto had told him to come to, a submarine mecha bay hidden beneath one of the northern arcologies. He''d informed his flight leader of what he knew.


    His job was done.


    What did he want, a medal?


    No.


    Just his wife, who the Feds had captured again, who they''d abused so terribly the first time he''d sworn off their war after dedicating his whole adult life to it.


    Just his daughter, whose whereabouts he could only guess at and whose company might be even worse.


    Was that so much to ask?


    "I''ll bet the nukes didn''t get them, either," Otto continued, oblivious to Jack''s ruminations. "One shield might have been overloaded, but two? Now that bastard Marcel can tell the Senate what happened, even present witnesses. Dammit!"


    Jack looked up through red-rimmed eyes. "You really thought you''d wipe out a Federal destroyer and not get caught?"


    "It should have worked, shouldn''t it? Jam their longband communications, suck them in with a mecha duel, evac my people, overload their shields with the nukes? It was a good plan, Jack. You know that."


    "No plan survives contact with the enemy, Commodore."


    The Oligarch looked up, a snarl curling on his lips. Then, abruptly, he laughed. "Ain''t that the truth, old buddy?"


    Jack didn''t give a damn about implicating Algreil Aerospace. Didn''t give a damn about implicating himself, for that matter.


    But Otto''s plan would have gotten Ellie to safety ¨C if it had worked.


    He cared a whole hell of a lot about that.


    "Sure," Jack spat. "Old buddy."


    "What? You mean to tell me you didn''t get a rush from being out there again?"


    "Guess I don''t get off on killing people and coming damn close to dying myself," Jack said.


    "Really?" Otto leaned across the table. "Somehow, I''m not entirely sure I believe you, Jack."


    "You always were a skeptic," Jack said.


    "Look, I get what you''re moping about. Your wife was with my people when they got picked up. Don''t worry about her. Marcel fancies himself a knight in shining armor, more noble than the actual nobles. He won''t harm the fur on her pretty little head."


    Jack glared up at Otto. "What would you know about what I feel, you bastard?"


    ¡°I''m a married man, too, you know,¡± Otto said. ¡°Admittedly, Alarie and I have a somewhat more¡­ distant relationship, but then, we each got fifty percent stock in the other''s company, so who''s complaining?¡±


    ¡°This is your fault, Otto. You should have turned us over to Avalon.¡±


    "Never," the Oligarch said. "The Feds stole everything the Oligarchy fought for. They treat us like subordinates after we won their damned war for them. No way in hell do they get the kind of power your daughter is packing."


    "Just how much do you know about that power, anyway? Clo''s never done anything but come up with some good hunches in thirteen years."


    "She''s the Empress, Jack."


    "What!?"


    "You''ve got to understand," Otto said, "I don''t have proof, and I doubt the Feds do, either. They obviously believe it, though. It''s the only thing that could justify the kind of firepower they sent and the way they''re willing to use it."


    Jack thought back to Chloe''s real mother. That was an easy thing for him to do, even after so many years. He could picture the scene any time he closed his eyes. The surface of that silvery mecha sloughing away like water to reveal a luminous, raven-haired figure clutching a tiny child, the immense pressure of her powers, the shock of her beauty.


    For years, he¡¯d told himself she had to have been a noble, even though he¡¯d fought nobles and none of them had that kind of presence. What else could he call her? A goddess, an angel?


    Or one of the last scions of the Astroykos dynasty, cousin and betrothed to its last Emperor, whose transcendent psychic powers made her close enough to those legends to be mythic in their own right.


    A legend wouldn¡¯t have died a few minutes after passing Chloe off to Jack and Ellie. An Empress, on the other hand...


    Had?


    "How is that possible?" Jack whispered.


    "You know how the Emperor got involved in the Civil War, right? And the Senate ¨C then House of Commons?"


    "Sure. The Emperor went crazy and tried to take all the power for himself. Disband the Commons and the Oligarchy, turn the House of Lords into his cabinet."


    "Not that fairy tale," Otto snapped. "I mean the real reason."


    Jack stared.


    "So you really don''t know. Guess it''s story hour."


    "Make it quick, Otto, ''cause right now I''ve gotta tell you, this is looking more like one of your bullshit sessions to get me onboard with some crazy scheme than like anything approaching the truth. I haven''t forgotten what your last plan did to Ellie."


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    "Shut up for five seconds, already. The point is, Emperor Theophilos XIX didn''t just ''go crazy.'' He went mad, if at all, with grief over his murdered wife."


    "Huh? I didn''t think he was married yet."


    "Yep. To Princess Karissa Demaratos," Otto said. "The old Grand Admiral''s daughter. Meaning she had Imperial blood of her own, from a different branch. Officially, Karissa died before she could get hitched. Unofficially, they eloped two years before she died.¡±


    ¡°How come that was unofficial?¡±


    ¡°Because her father died without approving the match, and considering their politics a damn good chance he wouldn¡¯t have. The Emperor might have been a hopeless romantic, but he so did not need a scandal just then. Especially not a scandal regarding the Demaratoses, who were the big Imperial proponents of keeping the war going.¡±


    ¡°What was so important about ¡®just then?¡¯¡±


    ¡°The end of the Civil War,¡± Otto said, ¡°by way of an Imperial dictate.¡±


    ¡°And you didn''t take the deal,¡± Jack muttered.


    ¡°The Emperor wanted to hand the nobs everything they asked for, a silver platter to go with their silver spoons. At the time, in case you''ve forgotten, we were winning. Or have you switched sides?¡±


    Of course not. Jack didn''t believe in the nobles'' right to rule, any more than he did in hybrids being forced to serve.


    Trouble was, those positions hadn''t been compatible during the Civil War. Seemed like they still weren''t.


    All he said was, ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Good. I''d hate to think you''d fallen that far.¡± Otto waved a hand in dismissal. ¡°Anyway, the point is, the Emperor was pissing on Grand Admiral Demaratos''s grave and robbing his cradle at approximately the same time, and he wanted to keep at least one of those out of the public eye so he could pull off the other. But it never came to that, because the House of Commons ¨C President Casimir ¨C wouldn''t pass the original ceasefire bill.¡±


    ¡°So the Emperor kicked them out?¡±


    ¡°So the Emperor knuckled under,¡± Otto said. ¡°At least, that''s what we thought until Karissa turned up dead.¡±


    ¡°It was a transport accident, right? Or is that another ''fairy tale?''¡±


    ¡°Actually, from what I can tell, nobody, including the Emperor and the Senate, knows what really happened to Karissa''s transport. First off, it was no transport. It was the Emperor''s flagship, the Apollo."


    A battlecruiser, Jack thought. Just like the one where he¡¯d found Chloe.


    Oh, Principle.


    ¡°As such,¡± Otto said, ¡°it sure as hell didn''t just have an accident. Somebody decided to off the Empress to push the Emperor into acting.¡±


    "How do you murder an Imperial?¡±


    ¡°Very carefully?¡± Otto shrugged. ¡°Probably with a fleet''s worth of nobs, or a knife in the back from somebody she trusted enough to not bother reading his mind. It took all our fleets and the entire Animus Hunters corps to finish off the Emperor, but I don¡¯t know how Karissa stacked up.¡±


    Jack swallowed.


    ¡°Whoever did it,¡± Otto said, ¡°they blamed the attack on the Commons and made the Emperor believe it. He kicked them out of Etemenos, which was exactly what Casimir and his crew were waiting for. They formed the Senate, coopted our war, and forced the surviving nobs to work with the Emperor. The Emperor came out of Etemenos boiling mad, a million men died, and finally, he did, too.¡±


    Jack shuddered at the thought of the Battle of Etemenos, and he hadn''t even been there. Otto had.


    Jack couldn''t help but look at the oligarch with more respect. He hadn''t been among the million dead, after all. A testament to his piloting, or his luck?


    Either way, it didn''t mean he was right. "Even if that''s true,¡± Jack said, ¡°there''s another problem. To fit your timeline, Chloe would have to be almost as old as you, not your little brother. She''s not, Otto, trust me. When Ellie and I first got her, she couldn''t have been much more than five, maybe six."


    ¡°Tell that to the Feds,¡± Otto said. ¡°They believe she''s the Empress, and I can''t take the risk they''re right. Who knows what happened to Karissa? What she was capable of? I saw the Emperor fight, Jack. He was one step short of a god. Karissa had less Imperial blood and probably no combat training, but she was still more powerful than anything you''ve ever seen. Messing with the flow of time would be nothing to either of them. Hell, even we can do it by moving close enough to light speed without compressing space."


    If you''re right, Jack thought, I know what happened to Empress Karissa. She died in the Mother Goose''s mecha bay after handing Chloe over to me and Ellie.


    "If you get Chloe, Otto, what are you gonna do with her?"


    "Frankly, Jack, I don''t have a clue. Like I said, the Emperor was out of our league. Maybe, maybe with the whole Federal Navy focused just on taking out an Imperial, they could pull it off, but I wouldn''t bet marks on it."


    "You''d crown her," Jack said.


    Otto shrugged. "I can think of worse fates."


    "Not many. Not for Chloe. That kind of responsibility is the last thing she wants. Anyway, what about Oligarchical principles?"


    "What about them? I didn''t want to overthrow the Emperor, Jack. None of us did. We wanted the right to conduct business in his Empire without meddling from the local nobs, to make as much money and amass as much power as we had the balls to. It was the House of Commons that wanted to wipe out the imperial line and take their place ''for the peace and equality of the galaxy,'' right?"


    For the peace and equality of the galaxy ¨C if Otto was telling the truth ¨C the body that would become the Federal Senate had set out to kill the angel who''d died in the Mother Goose''s hangar. Had killed her, even if indirectly.


    For the peace and equality of the galaxy, the Senate wanted Chloe dead.


    For the peace and equality of the galaxy.


    Jack had fought for those principles, alongside the people who had killed Chloe''s real mother and now meant to finish the job on the imperial family.


    Dammit ¨C!


    "I''m all out of options here, Jack," Otto said. "You can see what the Feds are willing to do. How far they''ll go. I''ve got a family of my own ¨C a wife and brother, and a corporate family that depends on me, too. Now that Avalon can broadcast to the Senate, all those people have to fight or run."


    "You''ll fight," Jack said.


    ¡°Damn right. I''m not entirely unprepared, as you may have noticed. The Senate stole human space from the Oligarchy after we fought and died for ninety years to secure it, and now they''re worse than the nobs for crimping our style.¡±


    ¡°You''ll make Chloe fight.¡±


    ¡°I''ll ask her to, Jack. ''Making'' someone do something when she could turn your whole damn planet inside out with a thought is a little audacious even for me. At least with us she''d have a chance, though.¡±


    Jack looked down at his big, deceptively nimble hands. Old callouses ached where he''d gripped military mecha controls again. A good ache, like an old friend.


    Otto could bullshit like nobody he''d ever known. His facts did seem to add up, though. The dead battlecruiser, Chloe''s angelic mother, the Feds'' interest.


    Images flashed through Jack''s head: Ellie in a Valuable Confiscated Livestock camp, used, abused, sentenced to what would have been death if he hadn''t stepped in. Chloe on the run, scared and alone, trying so hard to save her parents she forgot to save herself.


    Jack imagined the Emperor seeing terribly similar images as some silver-tongued Senator explained how, to the regret of all, the Empress would not be arriving on Etemenos. Jack imagined going to war with the whole galaxy because of those images. Who could do less, and call himself a man?


    Jack never thought he''d have something in common with Theophilos XIX.


    He wasn''t an emperor or even a mechaneer-aristocrat. He couldn''t fight the whole galaxy to get his family back.


    Didn''t mean he couldn''t try.


    ¡°There''s gonna be a new Civil War, old buddy,¡± Otto said. ¡°Sooner or later, you''ll have to choose a side.¡±


    ¡°I''ve got only one side,¡± Jack said. ¡°Me and Ellie and Chloe.


    ¡°But,¡± he added before Otto could argue, ¡°if you''re asking if I''ll fly with the Devil Rays again... I don''t think the Feds will leave me much choice.¡±

 Chapter 26: Syndication

    Chapter 26: Syndication


    Though it might conceal any number of hidden assailants, Rudy welcomed the darkness of the office.


    It gave him an excuse not to meet Chloe''s eyes. Not that she''d been looking his way much since his tirade in the alley. She''d followed, mute and docile as when the Feds took her ship and, she''d thought, her parents. He''d led her to a gravlev and across a span of disturbingly familiar highway to a port village, explaining as they went exactly what he planned and what she had to do to pull it off.


    She''d said all of one word the whole way. When he finished his pitch, she mumbled, "Okay." She wouldn''t say anything more to show she understood or even had paid attention.


    Rudy didn''t have the heart to ask her.


    He felt he should apologize. Why, though? She did owe him, dammit, owed him through the roof. What gave her the right to get on her high horse and preach at him? She should''ve been down on her knees thanking him for considering sleeping with her sufficient payment for the hell he''d gone through!


    Which didn''t explain why he felt like the galaxy''s biggest ass, and its biggest fool.


    So they sat, silent and presumably alone, in an office lit by a single antique lamp. Their uncomfortable metal chairs faced an uncomfortable, unoccupied metal desk.


    "Oliver Brent and Petra Jaric?"


    Rudy jumped in his seat. So did Chloe, the most animation she''d shown since the alley. The names were the fakes he''d given at the desk. The voice speaking them came from behind the desk. The no longer unoccupied desk.


    A man sat there in a flight suit as dark as the shadows, his face high enough to lie outside the narrow sphere of light. Had he sat there the whole time, or had he somehow entered without Rudy''s notice?


    Just how tired am I, Rudy wondered.


    Chloe said, "T-that''s us, Sir."


    "Kronid," the man said, as though she''d asked a question. He extended a hand, dark-gloved like the rest of him. Chloe haltingly took it and gave a feeble shake. "Stephan Kronid."


    "Petra Jaric," Chloe said, proving she''d paid better attention than Rudy expected. She rose and gave a nervous bow.


    Rudy mumbled, "I''m Ollie Brent."


    "My assistant," Stephan said, "tells me the two of you are seeking transport. Discreet transport."


    "That''s right, Mr. Kronid," Chloe said. Rudy wondered where her sudden talkativeness came from, but he couldn''t complain. She sure hadn''t missed a word he''d said on the gravlev. "Can you help us?"


    "I certainly can, Miss¡­ Jaric. I''m afraid it falls to you to demonstrate why I should."


    "There''s plenty in it for you," Rudy said. "Hell, if Petra''s right, there''s a fortune out there for somebody who knows how to fence it."


    "Fence it, Mr. Brent?" Stephan asked. Rudy felt, more than saw, his thin smile.


    "Uh," Rudy said. "Sell it, I mean."


    "Very good." Stephan folded his hands on the desk. Something about his voice grated on Rudy. It wasn''t just that he was a stone cold killer who probably had a fifty percent chance of knowing exactly who Rudy and Chloe were and what the Feds would pay for turning them over. The voice itself played on Rudy''s nerves. It seemed familiar.


    Rudy knew about the Kronistine Syndicate because he''d tangled with its low-ranking members in his academy days.


    A crooked bookie asked Rudy to throw one of the illicit mecha tournaments he frequented. He threw the guy''s bribe in his face instead. Come tournament day, a couple of dark-suited thugs tried to make sure he wasn''t in any condition to win. He''d broken one of each of their legs and left them outside, calmly won the tournament, and walked away.


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    Apparently, the Syndicate respected his dedication ¨C or, more likely, ran a background check and turned up the name Algreil ¨C, because they never bothered him again.


    Still, he kept an eye on their known haunts courtesy of the corporate databanks, just in case they ever decided to settle an old score.


    Maybe, he thought, using that info to try to find someone to get him and Chloe off Wellach wasn''t the brightest idea he''d ever had.


    The Syndicate operated a lot like one of the Oligarchical corporations, but without the Oligarchs'' legal sanction. They looked after their corporate family, they provided goods and services, they turned a profit. They even had their own fleet and mechaneers, geared up as pirates and assassins.


    And smugglers.


    "Explain to me, Miss Jaric," Stephan was saying, "why exactly you want to go to this defunct battlecruiser, and why you require unusual discretion in getting there."


    "I''m looking for a mecha," Chloe, as ¡°Petra Jaric,¡± answered. "It''s not acceptable for me to have one."


    "Why not?"


    She leaned into the light and opened her eyes wide. "What do you think, Mr. Kronid?"


    "You''re a noble," the Syndicate man said calmly.


    Chloe nodded. "Don''t mistake me. I take my Limiters every day. I claim no special privileges. I am a good citizen."


    Rudy had apparently sold her on his idea. She presented herself as the daughter of one of the small cadre of aristocrats who¡¯d agreed to the Senate''s terms, giving their ancestral lands to the government and taking nanomachine injections to suppress their psychic powers.


    Stephan asked, "Why do you want a mecha, then?"


    "Because it belonged to my father," Chloe said. The best lies contained a germ of truth, but in this case, Rudy thought it was easier to sell the idea of a nobleman''s mecha rather than a noblewoman''s. He wasn''t sure if the nobs had been desperate enough to allow their wives and daughters to fight by the end of the Civil War. Why give the Syndicate an excuse for doubt?


    Chloe continued, "I want the logs from the ship he served on and the machine he piloted. My mother tells me nothing of him, fearing I will dream too high, but I must know of his exploits."


    "Federal law forbids members of the former aristocracy from owning mecha, though," Stephan said. "You understand you are risking a great deal of trouble just by asking someone to perform this service for you?"


    "I''m quite aware of that," Chloe said. "But Ollie ¨C" Here she reached over and squeezed Rudy''s hand. "¨C tells me you can help."


    "What gives you that idea, Mr. Brent?" Stephan asked. "I hope no one has told you I am not a law-abiding citizen."


    "I hear stuff," Rudy said. "You know, on the street. I''m pretty plugged in."


    Rudy played the role of the boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks, the poseur rebel who landed an upper-class girl by pretending to be ten times cooler and more badass than he was. The kind of guy who thought he could get in good with the Syndicate if he just got his big break, and who was very wrong to think so.


    "I''m sure you are," Stephan said, not bothering to hide his condescension.


    Mission accomplished, Rudy thought.


    "Please, Mr. Kronid," Chloe said. She aimed her big stratosphere blues at the darkness where the Syndicate man''s face should have been. "I so want to learn about my father, to have something to remember him by. When I found out where he''d been killed, I¡­"


    She looked down, bit her lip. "Please," she whispered.


    He reached across and patted her shoulder. "There, there, Miss Jaric. I sympathize with you more than you may realize. Family, you see, is very important to me, too."


    "Then¡­?" Chloe hesitated.


    She was a hell of an actress when she set her mind to it. Her dad was supposed to be a legendary fast-talker, so Rudy supposed it made sense.


    "It takes a lot of marks to fund an expedition like this, Miss Jaric," Stephan said. "Especially when it must remain off the official books. Are you sure you are willing to spend so much on what, by your own admission, is ultimately a mission of sentiment?"


    "Money is no object," Chloe said. She smiled nastily, a look Rudy would never expect from little lost puppy Chloe Hughes but seemed perfectly natural for spoiled, sentimental brat Petra Jaric. "I rather like the idea of spending my stepfather''s marks to get a memento of my real father."


    Rudy snorted a laugh. Ollie Brent would dig that cruel streak in his girl. Rudy Kaine Algreil might not mind it, either.


    Stephan Kronid apparently didn''t care for it, judging from the forced politeness of his chuckle. "In that case, Miss Jaric, we may come to an accommodation. If you''ll give me your financial transaction code?"


    Chloe gave him the one Rudy had told her to, instead, recently filled with marks he''d drawn from personal accounts he expected to see frozen within the day. He''d taken out two megamarks of spending money, but he planned on saving that for close encounters.


    Besides, Stephan would probably get suspicious of someone who could flash that kind of cash.


    Chloe''s eyes widened a little as the marks Stephan was charging counted up on her flight suit''s screen. Rudy couldn''t tell if it was part of the act or if she was genuinely shocked.


    "Well, Mr. Brent, Miss Jaric," Stephan said, "it seems we have equivalence."

 Chapter 27: Petra

    Chapter 27: Petra


    ¡®Petra Jaric¡¯ stood at the back of the Errant Magpie''s sleekly sterile bridge, imperiously watching four men in black flight suits orchestrate the ship''s entrance into compressed space.  If the young noblewoman felt the least bit uncomfortable at traveling on a ship full of criminals, or anything but haughtily pleased by said criminals'' lusty glances, she betrayed no sign.  She was the picture of oblivious arrogance.


    Chloe Hughes, of course, was absolutely terrified.


    Between the dark screens and flight suits and the oversaturated white lights bathing the bridge, the Magpie and its crew gave a reasonable impression of their ship''s avian namesake.  The whole environment was a study in sharp contrasts, white walls and lights, black suits and shadows.


    Also like magpies, the crew were thieves ¨C or worse.


    "Are you comfortable with compression jumps, Miss Jaric?" Stephan Kronid asked.


    Chloe hadn''t noticed the Syndicate man''s approach.  She never did.  "I''ll be fine, Mr. Kronid," she said.  "It''s very good of you to ask."  Which was almost like thanks, but not quite.


    It seemed in-character.


    Chloe didn''t know what bothered her most.  The coldness between her and Rudy, the Magpie''s crew of likely rogues, the ease with which she seemed to slip into the petty, petulant role of Petra Jaric, or simply being aboard a compression-capable ship other than the Mother Goose.


    She felt like she was running away from her obligation to her parents, even though she knew the battlecruiser offered her only hope of helping them.


    "You seem troubled," Stephan said.  "Did you and Mr. Brent have a fight?"


    "I''m fine," Chloe repeated.  She turned to face the Syndicate man.


    He was exceedingly tall, coffee-and-cream dark and rail thin, made more so by the way his black flight suit seemed to meld into the overbright light, with an acquiline nose, deepset, heavily shadowed dark eyes, a sharp jaw and a ponytail of thin, straight black hair.  He was handsome, she supposed, and extremely menacing even when he was doing nothing more than standing there smiling his too-white smile.


    Petra, Chloe decided, would not deign to notice such details.  She filed them away but flashed a thin smile rather than following her instinct to step back.  "How long until we enter the compression tunnel?"


    "A few more minutes," Stephan said.  "My men must compute both a legal trajectory to give the traffic managers and an actual one that avoids the usual transport lanes."


    "Of course," Chloe said.  She pretended to pretend to understand.  She actually did, but Petra wouldn''t.  The Feds, like the Empire before them, managed space traffic to prevent two compression tunnels from intersecting.  Technically, a very talented pilot could steer a very nimble ship safely through intersecting tunnels, but only the wildest thrill seeker wanted to try.  Criminal and military ships routinely ignored safe channels, as the Errant Magpie was about to.


    Another thing to worry about.  She wished she were as ignorant of the danger as she pretended to be.


    Rudy said Stephan would double-cross them for sure once they got to the battlecruiser and Chloe either showed the Syndicate man how to activate its remains or failed to do so.  Until then, though, Rudy said, Stephan would bide his time and count his marks.


    Rudy also said he could take the Magpie''s four crewmen, an ursid among them, in a fight.


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    Chloe wanted very badly to believe him.


    "Your attachment to your father is admirable," Stephan was saying.  Chloe realized she had let her mind wander and hadn''t been paying attention to either the Syndicate man or her cover.  Stephan assuredly noticed her distraction, but either canniness or politeness prevented him from saying so.  "I take it your current familial arrangements don''t suit?"


    "Mother remarried," Chloe said, "for money rather than either position or love.  It''s all very well to be able to buy respect, but my stepfather does not deserve it."


    Stephan chuckled.  "Does position matter so much to you¡­ Petra?"


    The way he said the name cut short her response.  Chloe tried to identify the undercurrent.  Did he hate nobs?  Many people in the Federated Stars did.  Or did he know who she was?


    Or was he just testing her to see if he could get away with using her persona¡¯s first name?


    "It is all I have left, Mr. Kronid," she said.  Petra, in Chloe''s mind, genuinely felt the loss of station, even though she''d been a young child when it happened.  She slumped and gave a little sigh.  "I don''t expect people to bow and scrape, of course, but one wants to at least be acknowledged.


    "Is that," she added plaintively, "so much to ask?"


    "I''m sure you don''t have any trouble being acknowledged, Petra," Stephan said.


    Chloe suppressed a sigh of relief.  Using the name again settled the matter.  He was simply trying it out and appreciating the closeness of a first-name basis.


    I should use that closeness to my advantage, Chloe thought.


    Just thinking it made her feel dirty.


    Yet, she already saw ways.  Petra, who had gravitated toward a petty thug like Rudy''s alter-ego, Ollie Brent, because he was rough and handsome and dangerous ¨C mostly dangerous ¨C would find the idea of being a powerful gangster''s girl exhilarating.  Anything to offend her resented mother.  Anything to liven up her drab, shallow life.


    ¡°I¡­ really should be going, Ste¡­ Mr. Kronid,¡± ¡°Petra¡± said.  She must maintain the illusion of propriety.  For the second time in as many minutes, Chloe found herself pretending to pretend what she actually felt.  She felt smothered by the layers of bluffs.


    "Of course," Stephan said.  He stepped aside to permit her to leave the bridge and swept a long arm toward the door.  "I wouldn''t dream of keeping you waiting."


    "You''re very generous," she said.  She forced a smile, quickly, then swept from the bridge, doing her best to portray a troubled young woman contemplating a terrible mistake and prepared, even excited, to make it.


    She strode down the Errant Magpie''s long, white hallways to the room she and Rudy shared.  The door, programmed to respond to her touch as soon as they came aboard, slid open when she pressed her hand to it.


    The lights were off inside.  Only a small screen, still silently portraying the flow of Wellachan waves, illuminated the room.  Chloe''s eyes took a moment to adjust as she stepped in and let the door slide shut behind her.


    She knew where Rudy was long before she could see him, though.  Sprawled on the gel couch on one side of the room, eyes closed, snoring.


    He''d slept on a lot of couches, lately.  First at the hotel on Wellach, where he''d refused to get a suite with two beds, supposedly to keep up his reputation, but she figured he''d had at least some hope of sharing the one.  Now on the Magpie, because their cover demanded they give the appearance of sleeping together.


    Chloe sank to the bed and buried her face in her hands.


    "Rudy," she whispered, too quietly to wake him.  "I''m so sorry.  You''re right, you''re completely right.  I owe you knowledge and power for the risks you took and the things you lost.  And more than that, because you were a friend to me when I needed one the most."


    He thought she was angry with him, she knew.  She had been, at first, and shocked at the harshness of his words.  She didn''t blame him, though.  Couldn''t.


    She didn''t know why those words choked in her throat when he could actually hear her.  Somehow, it never came out right, or at all.


    She peeked through spread fingers.


    Rudy''s chest rose and fell in rhythm to his snores, peaceful as a baby.  He was so much easier to talk to when he didn''t come back with a smart remark at every sentence.  So much more likable.


    Lovable, even.


    "I can''t figure you out, Rudy," Chloe said.  "Who are you, really?  Who''s your Chloe Hughes, and who''s your Petra Jaric?  A smartass punk who doesn''t care about anything or anyone?  A ruthless Oligarch who tallies up every service rendered and penny loaned and expects payment with interest?"


    She leaned closer.  Her voice lowered to the point she almost couldn''t hear it.  "The nice guy you sometimes seem to be underneath it all ¨C even if you''d never admit it?"


    Or, she reminded herself, the nice guy you sometimes pretend to be.


    Principle, she thought, don''t let that person be the fake, because ¨C


    Because Jack and Ellie Hughes were so, so right to warn their daughter about guys like Rudy.

 Chapter 28: The Hulk

    Chapter 28: The Hulk


    "Looks like you were right, after all, babe," Rudy said. He faked a grin and gave Chloe a comradely elbow.


    No response.


    Rudy wanted to glance at her, but he found it difficult to look away from the immense hulk filling the Errant Magpie''s main screen. Rudy hadn''t seen a Civil War-era battlecruiser up close since he was a little kid. Maybe he didn''t remember how big they looked. Maybe this one looked even bigger than most.


    Eight kilometers of reinforced composite armor and immense main guns and cavernous mecha bays and city-sized crew quarters.


    All dead.


    An eight kilometer long corpse, drifting through deep space.


    Finally, he wrenched his eyes to Chloe.


    She stared at the battlecruiser, wide-eyed, ashen-faced, fists clenched, unmoving. She didn''t seem to have even noticed him speaking. Whatever he found so unnerving apparently affected her much more.


    He reached over to take her hand.


    Stephan Kronid stepped between them. He looked almost as ashen-faced as Chloe, not that it stopped him from butting in. "Let''s get this over with," he said.


    A murmur of assent rounded the bridge.


    Rudy was glad to see the battlecruiser unnerved even the hard men of the Kronistine Syndicate. Made him feel better about letting it creep him out.


    He was not glad to see Stephan step between him and Chloe. Even less to see the crime boss take Chloe''s hand and say, "Are you going to be all right, Petra?"


    "Petra will be fine," Rudy said. ''Ollie Brent'' wouldn''t stand for that crap. Had to stay in character, right? Hell, Rudy Kaine Algreil wouldn''t stand for it, either. Rudy wasn''t a good enough actor to project a wildly different personality. He was bluffing about his competence, not his character. Ollie Brent basically pretended to be what Rudy actually was.


    "Yes," Chloe said, sounding distant and dazed and anything but ¡®fine.¡¯ "It''s just a shock to see it like this. Where my¡­ my dad¡­ must have died."


    Stephan nodded sympathetically.


    Rudy resisted the urge to punch the crime boss out. With any luck, Stephan would pull a double-cross soon and give him an excuse to abandon restraint.


    Rudy didn''t doubt for a minute he could take the Kronistine men. He''d handled them easily enough when he was younger and less experienced.


    Besides, he thought, eyeing Stephan and Chloe, he had more incentive this time.


    "Quinn, Tarkov, keep the ship running," Stephan ordered. "Slava, with me. We''ll get to the bridge and see how much of the ship is still working, then we''ll look for Petra''s father''s mecha."


    "Sir." The Syndicate men snapped to it with almost military efficiency.


    Rudy had to admit he was impressed. The ones whose asses he''d kicked all those years ago must''ve been small-time in comparison. Which begged the question, why would some kind of big league crime boss and his elites operate off a backwater planet like Wellach?


    "Me and Petra don''t care about the bridge," he said.


    Chloe and Stephan turned to him, the latter frowning. Chloe still looked dazed.


    "Why don''t the two of us go pick up her dad''s mecha, and you guys can work on salvaging the ship or whatever the hell you want," Rudy said.


    Stephan shook his head. "We should stick together. The ship may still be dangerous, and I doubt either of you have salvage experience."


    Chloe started to speak. Caught herself at the last second.


    Had Stephan noticed? Any of his men?


    Rudy couldn''t tell.


    Quickly, he shrugged. "I''m not scared of a bunch of moldy ghosts. How about you, babe?"


    Chloe looked absolutely terrified. She said, "N-no. I''m not scared."


    "It''s not the ghosts I''m concerned about," Stephan said, "it''s the deadfalls, the live electrical conduits, the radiation, the unstable floors, the unexploded ammunition¡­ need I go on, Mr. Brent?"


    "I can handle it," Rudy said, making his voice sullen. "You trust me, right, babe?"


    "Yeah," she said weakly.


    Dammit, Chloe, he thought. I''m trying to get us clear of these guys. He didn''t dare say it, though.


    Instead, he said, "Look, man, if you''re that worried, just send one of your guys along to spot all this crap you''re saying''s inside. We can wrap up here and get home." He jerked a thumb at the battlecruiser''s looming hulk. "Unless you like the scenery?"


    Stephan''s deep set eyes narrowed. He glanced at the battlecruiser, at Chloe, at Rudy again. "You''re very right, Mr. Brent. Slava, you''re with our clients."


    "Sir." The biggest of the Syndicate men, an ursid almost twice Rudy''s height, nodded. "I take you to the ship, little ones."


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    Rudy couldn''t even object to being called little by the immense hybrid. He shrugged. "Sounds like a plan. C''mon, ''Pet, let''s grab your memento and get the hell out of here. I''m starting to think this was a bad idea."


    "Yeah," Chloe said. She stepped around Stephan and let Rudy take her hand. Hers trembled a little through her flight suit.


    "You take care, Petra," Stephan said. Slick bastard. He sounded genuinely concerned ¨C or maybe it was just the nervousness in his voice since they arrived at the battlecruiser. "I expect to see you again very soon."


    She smiled weakly, not turning. "Of course."


    Rudy did turn, and glared.


    Stephan was already staring at the battlecruiser.


    Chloe saw the place her mother died, the place she joined the people she thought of as her parents. Not to mention whatever the hell she might sense from the hulk with her intermittent, unreliable psychic abilities.


    What about it set Stephan Kronid''s nerves on edge?


    Now, Rudy understood casual jitters. The battlecruiser''s hulk drifted at the very edge of a star system far off the beaten path. It would have special significance to the Hugheses and they wouldn''t have necessarily come back to finish the salvage job.


    Someone should have bagged a lot of that hardware in the decade and a half since the Civil War, though. So why hadn''t they?


    Why did the battlecruiser look almost intact, except for the places where the Errant Magpie''s lights played over jagged tears from mecha weapons?


    Maybe Stephan worried about the same things, his concerns magnified because he wanted to profit the Syndicate by selling off bits and pieces of the battlecruiser.


    Rudy couldn''t shake the feeling the crime boss''s fears went beyond the merely economic.


    What did it take to scare a man who thrived in one of, if not the, most dangerous and ruthless business environments in known space? Who, just by virtue of going to work in the morning, exposed himself to bombs and bullets and poisons and worse?


    Rudy decided not to think about it. Wasn''t like he could do anything but follow Chloe''s hunch, regardless of his fears or Stephan''s.


    He and Chloe followed the ursid, Slava, to the Magpie''s personnel airlocks. Rudy wondered what mecha the Syndicate men had stashed in their hangar. He couldn''t imagine they''d gone without any, but he''d never been able to get inside to check. He''d never even seen them check the hangar, much less open it up long enough for him to slip in and look around.


    "You know to use masks," the ursid said. "Outside, there is no atmosphere, and what is left inside we do not trust."


    "We''re not completely ignorant," Rudy snapped.


    Chloe cast a sullen glance his way. "He''s only trying to help," she said, which didn''t seem in-character for Petra. Of course. Chloe had a hangup about hybrids.


    Rudy would have liked to remind her she wasn''t supposed to be herself, but he couldn''t exactly do that without completely blowing their cover. Hopefully Slava wouldn''t notice.


    Rudy shrugged and slid his flight suit''s mask up.


    "Air tanks," Slava said, taking a pair from the wall and handing one each to Rudy and Chloe. "Careful. They are heavy in gravity."


    No kidding, Rudy thought as he took the canister of compressed air and affixed it to his flight suit. He had to brace Chloe until she could get hers properly attached. Slava donned a pair without noticeable effort.


    Wordlessly, he checked the connections on their tanks, nodded his massive, masked head and led them into the airlock.


    Rudy leaned back and waited while the air evacuated into the ship''s storage tanks. Gravity faded next. He was glad he''d trained and fought mecha battles in zero gee so often. The first time, what seemed like a lifetime ago, he''d thrown up all over his cockpit. Didn''t bother him a bit, now.


    Chloe was at least as used to the absence of gravity. If anything, she seemed to perk up, though that could have just been relief as the external air tank''s weight disappeared.


    Rudy frowned. Would Slava notice Chloe''s comfort with zero gee? Would Stephan? He hadn''t warned her about seeming too competent because, in atmosphere, she normally seemed anything but. She''d lived almost her whole life in space, though, and she might show it without ever realizing groundlings didn''t move the way she could.


    No way to warn her now.


    The battlecruiser''s overwhelming, awful presence might save the day. Chloe seemed clumsier when she looked at it, and it sure as hell distracted Stephan.


    Distracted Rudy, too.


    Without a transport''s admittedly paltry armor between him and the gargantuan hulk, it unnerved him even more. More than the size, more than the damage, more even than the inexplicably intact, unsalvaged spans, it radiated menace ¨C and pain. Some kind of psychic backwash, strong enough even he could feel it? He knew exactly squat about such things.


    He jetted over to Chloe''s side and gave her hand another squeeze, as much to give himself some kind of anchor to reality as to check on her.


    "You okay," he asked over the comlink.


    She didn''t answer.


    He shut the comlink off and pressed his head close to hers. Sound would vibrate through the material. "Hey," he whispered.


    She shifted to face him.


    He asked, "Is your comlink running?"


    "I forgot to turn it on," she began. Her voice sounded muffled and distant with two flight suits as the medium through which it traveled. He couldn''t make out inflection, but guessed she was nervous as hell.


    "Don''t," he said. "Listen, we''ve got a second to talk without them hearing us. Let''s use it already."


    "Oh." Pause.


    "What exactly is wrong with you, Chloe?" Rudy asked, more glad than he cared to admit or explain just to be able to use her real name again. "And are you gonna be okay going in that place? Are any of us?"


    "It''s¡­ hard to explain," she said.


    "Try."


    "You ever get that feeling like someone''s walked over your grave? The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you feel cold even when it''s hot out and your breath catches?"


    "Yeah?"


    "It''s like that, only it''s not a moment, it just keeps going, and it keeps getting worse."


    Rudy gulped. "Are you sick?


    "Only in my head," she said. Something that might have been a nervous laugh and might have been a sob passed through their flight suits.


    "Should we go back?" Rudy asked.


    "No!" She pulled away, then realized they couldn''t communicate at all without physical contact. She drew up right next to him, like they were kissing.


    It was, Rudy realized, the closest they''d ever come to doing so.


    "We have to keep going, Rudy," Chloe said. "Well¡­ you don''t. It might be better if you didn''t, if I went the rest of the way alone."


    "Not a chance, Clo." Rudy patted her shoulder. "Even if I were willing to let you go, which I''m not, I don''t think ol'' Steph would look too kindly on me and Slava there letting you jet around solo.


    "Besides," he added, grinning, "you still owe me that knowledge and power."


    He realized his mistake as soon as he said it. Chloe couldn''t see his grin or hear the way he tossed the line off. All she could hear, barely, were the words.


    She stiffened and pulled away and, with a few expert puffs of maneuvering jets, turned to the battlecruiser.


    When he heard her voice again, it was a little stronger, a lot colder, and over the comlink. And, he thought, all Petra Jaric. "I believe we can get to the nearest mecha bay this way. Let''s be quick, shall we?"

 Chapter 29: Ghost Ship

    Chapter 29: Ghost Ship


    The tiny thrusters on Chloe''s suit swiveled to brake as she drifted through a jagged hole in the battlecruiser''s pockmarked hull. She came to a graceful stop, lighting upon the deck as easily and firmly as if it had sported full artificial gravity.


    She switched on the searchlight slung over her shoulder.


    A corpse floated not a meter away. Ice crystals covered its face, freezing its expression of shock and pain and fear.


    Horrified, Chloe sprang back from the corpse, momentarily forgetting she floated in zero gee. Her momentum carried her upwards. Something thudded against her back. She whirled, shining her searchlight on a severed arm that trailed crystallized blood.


    She choked back a scream, half-jetted, half-swam away from the limb as it went tumbling toward the vacuum of space.


    She slammed into another body. Its frozen, lifeless arms seemed to reach for her, begging for succor or remembrance ¨C or company in the endless frozen sleep of death.


    Old screams echoed in her mind. Blind panic. The world going mad. Shouts of anger and cries of fear and sobs of pain. Death, awful death, and this was only the beginning ¨C


    Chloe bounced off the corpse and tumbled.


    Arms encircled her.


    She thrashed in them, wildly, unreasoningly terrified of the awful grip, certain she would turn and see dead eyes leering at her through a shattered flight suit.


    "Chloe!"


    She stopped struggling.


    "Principle," Rudy swore. "You could''ve killed yourself jetting around like that! It''s just some corpses."


    Just. Just?


    Chloe had seen corpses before. After more than a decade as a salvager''s daughter, she knew the myriad ways a person could end up dead in space.


    But not so many people at once. Not like this.


    Rudy patted her arm. "You gonna keep your cool now?"


    "Yeah. Sorry." She gave him a weak smile, though he couldn''t see it and she didn''t feel it.


    A third light bobbed toward them ¨C Slava, the ursid gangster. He settled into a drift that brought him past their position. His huge frame knocked corpses away without noticeable lost momentum. "You are all right, little ones?"


    "We''re fine," Rudy said. "Petra got a little too close to a corpse for comfort, that''s all."


    The ursid shrugged, sending his light playing across a far bulkhead. If the slaughterhouse bothered him a bit, he gave no sign.


    Chloe froze. Rudy said ''Petra'' had gotten a little too close, but he''d shouted ''Chloe'' over the comlink when she''d endangered herself.


    Slava didn''t seem to have noticed. He might not have, or he might be faking it while he waited on instructions from Stephan. Stephan, if he was tuned to the same frequency, surely would have picked up on the slip.


    "We should keep moving," Rudy said. "Pet''s not comfortable here."


    Wasn''t that the truth! Chloe couldn''t manage to stay in character, and wasn''t sure it mattered anymore. Regardless, her alter ego''s reactions wouldn''t be any different from her own. The battlecruiser hulk and its horrors fell outside both their ranges of experience.


    "The shortest route to the nearest mecha bays is through this passage," Rudy said. "According to the schematics we got off the Magpie, it''s a long, straight shot, only two airlocks along the way. We can build up a real head of steam and cross the kilometer between us and the mecha in about fifteen minutes."


    "I am hoping that is the right mecha bay," Slava said fervently. So the place did affect him. He just handled it better.


    Chloe fell in behind the two men. She was a better zero gee maneuverer than either of them, she soon found, but couldn''t bear to go first into the dead, darkened passages. Even with Rudy''s familiar, comforting red flight suit as a beacon, she imagined the shadows reaching out to snatch her. If she''d had to lead...


    She shuddered.


    The hallway Rudy described looked more like a highway. Certainly it was bigger than Wellach''s thoroughfares. Shining all three of their searchlights down its expanse, they couldn''t see the far end and could barely make out the ceiling. It looked mostly intact and mostly empty.


    So far, at least, none of the dangers Stephan had warned about ¨C dangers Chloe knew well from a girlhood aboard a salvage ship ¨C had materialized. The battlecruiser seemed completely inert, its broken and dangerous pieces having bled their momentum off into waste heat over the years since its destruction. Despite its gruesome contents, it seemed safer than many of the salvage sites Chloe had seen.


    Except for the aura of menace choking the airless halls.


    Chloe jetted forward to place herself closer to Rudy and Slava.


    They drifted through the cavernous hall, silent as the void around them. Its silence was cathedral ¨C awesome and infectious.


    No, not cathedral. Calling it that seemed like blasphemy.


    The Mother Goose had visited the Theist Core in Godwin''s World orbit once. Chloe''s parents had taken her to the soaring, three-kilometer cathedral of crystal and stained glass that splinter sect maintained to venerate an involved and sympathetic Principle. There, she''d been silent from the awesome joy of the place, joy she felt just as keenly despite seeing the Almighty Principle as First Cause rather than involved personal god.


    Here, she was silent from almost palatable horror.


    She couldn''t say why. Unlike the blasted wreck they''d entered through, the hallway held few corpses and no visible signs of the attack. Her fear came from within, growing in the back of her mind and spilling over to her tingling nerves.


    Something worse than a slaughter had happened here.


    Chloe fought down her animal brain''s demands. Flee, it begged, pleaded, demanded. This is a bad place.


    I know it''s a bad place, she thought, but I need knowledge and power, and Rudy needs them, and this is a place thick with both.


    Provided she was willing to pay the price. To accept forbidden knowledge, to wield evil power.


    No!


    The knowledge and power she sought were not forbidden, not evil. They had belonged to her birth mother. They had, in a way Chloe couldn''t begin to understand, saved her and delivered her to Jack and Ellie Hughes. They were her birthright and they were right.


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    The battlecruiser''s silence mocked her insistence.


    "Slow up, Petra," Rudy said. He caught her arm and fired his thrusters in reverse, arresting her flight toward a huge, closed airlock.


    She probably wouldn''t have hurt herself if she''d hit it.


    Probably.


    "Can we get this open?" Chloe asked.


    "Shouldn''t be too hard," Rudy said. "I doubt they were on lockdown when the place got hit. They couldn''t very well have fought if they were."


    Did they fight, Chloe wondered. Did they get the chance? She saw only Imperial corpses floating through the vacuum.


    Maybe their enemies took their dead with them.


    Rudy released her and drifted to the airlock''s controls. He fumbled with the panel covering them for a moment, until Slava joined him and yanked it back with a single twitch of his arm. Rudy shot a glare at the ursid, who just shrugged again.


    Chloe would have found it funny under better circumstances.


    Under the present ones, she could easily imagine the two men tearing each other''s throats out over that small slight, fighting with hands and feet and mouths until one or the other was dead and the victor collapsed as adrenaline pumped out of control through his shuddering body.


    She bit her lip to stifle a gasp. Where had that thought come from?


    She glanced nervously over her shoulder, expecting to see¡­ something.


    She didn''t.


    She heaved a sigh of relief.


    The airlock''s huge door rolled into its housing. On the side with atmosphere, however fouled, it would be thunderously loud, but in vacuum it made no sound at all.


    "A third of the way there," Rudy said. His cheer sounded forced.


    Chloe followed him and Slava into the airlock.


    Rudy extracted a corpse clinging to the inner controls and began the process of pressurizing the airlock. One great door swung down, incongruously silent. Its twin wouldn''t be once there was air to transmit the sound to the three tiny figures floating between them.


    Slava, his deep voice echoing oddly as both comlink and atmosphere transmitted it, said, "Keep your masks up, yes, little ones? There is air, but we do not know there is good air."


    "There isn''t," Chloe said.


    Both Rudy and the ursid gangster glanced at her.


    Everything here is bad, she thought. She said, "Just a hunch."


    Slava shrugged and looked away, but Rudy kept eying her. She wondered how much he''d figured out about her hunches. After all, unlike the ursid, he knew she wasn''t on any kind of Limiters to prevent the unconscious use of psychic powers. She''d come to the battlecruiser on the strength of a hunch, pressed on in spite of her fears on the strength of a hunch.


    The airlock''s far door rumbled open.


    Most of the emergency lights still glowed in the hallway beyond. They conferred a better sense of the sheer scale of the battlecruiser''s halls than man-portable searchlights ever could. The tube-like hall stretched across Chloe''s entire field of vision, broken up at the edges by man-sized and mecha-sized hatches and swiftly-moving belts covered with handholds to speed Imperial navy men on their way. The walls were unnervingly clean, a pleasant, pristine off-white except for a few scorch marks.


    There were more bodies here.


    Lots more.


    Chloe stared numbly at them.


    At first, she merely comprehended the quantity of the death. Easily hundreds of corpses thronged the hall.


    Only when her eyes fully adjusted to the emergency lights and she wrapped her mind around the numbers involved did she comprehend the quality.


    She knew where her vision of Rudy and Slava killing each other came from. A dozen pairs of bodies tumbled past in death''s-grip embraces, their dead faces twisted in sightless, senseless hate. The combatants all wore Imperial uniforms.


    Other, still more bizarre sights afflicted her.


    Some of the pairs and trios and quartets were not attached by grips made clawlike by death. Some appeared melted together, their forms folded into a single grotesque. They had, from the looks of it, literally torn themselves apart trying to escape the prisons of each others'' flesh.


    Others protruded from the composite walls, their corpses seamlessly joined to their ship. One, his fate perhaps more merciful than most, was suspended from the bulkhead by his neck, his head one with the metal. Another drifted past, chest and stomach speared by the legs and part of the seat of a metal chair.


    None of the meldings showed any signs of external bleeding, though most must have quickly and painfully killed the men whose internal organs had been mangled by them. Whatever had afflicted them had not done so with raw force.


    The ship''s plants, monstrously overgrown, shrouded other corpses. Chloe couldn''t tell if the unnaturally thick, thorny vines had grown over the dead men or if they had become fused like the others.


    "Merciful Principle," Rudy whispered.


    No, Chloe thought, blaspheming and not caring that she did. Not merciful at all, to allow the pattern of these men''s days to end thus.


    "What could do this?" Rudy asked. He reached out and brushed hands with an amalgam of two Imperial officers whose arms joined at the elbow. "What in the hell could do this? Look at this!"


    "I don''t know," Chloe said.


    Rudy whirled around, jetted to her side, grabbed her shoulders. "You have to know," he said. "You''re the nob. You''re the psychic. You''re the one whose mecha is here. You have to know."


    "You know better," Chloe said. Her voice sounded strangely calm. She realized she was too horrified to even fear. "I know as much about whatever powers I have as you do ¨C nothing."


    Rudy didn''t move for a long time. She supposed he was staring through his flight suit''s mask, and wished she could see his face.


    Abruptly, he pulled her tightly into his arms and clung desperately.


    "Principle, Chloe, the bodies¡­!"


    She returned his embrace, cradling his head and pressing him close. Mechanically, she stroked the shaking muscles of his back.


    "And the minds," he continued, oblivious to her efforts to comfort him. "The ones who weren''t twisted outside, they killed each other."


    A powerful shudder passed through him. Chloe felt the motion pass into her, imagined taking all the revulsion and terror with it. She felt the oppressive aura close in around her and choke her breath and tear her flesh and twist her mind ¨C


    ¨C and pass as quickly as it came.


    "It''s okay, Rudy," she said gently. She kept kneading his tense muscles. She pressed her lips to his forehead and mimed kissing him through two layers of flight suit. "Whatever happened here, it was awful beyond anything we can understand, but it was a long time ago. We just feel the echoes of it because so much terror and pain flooded these halls all at once, a lot of it from psychics. It''s just a memory, and however bad a memory may be, it can''t hurt us."


    He raised his masked face to hers. "Clo¡­?"


    She nodded. "It''s okay, Rudy," she repeated.


    She glanced at Slava. The ursid had neither spoken nor moved since they entered the hallway. Chloe wondered if she would have to snap him out of more than natural fear, too.


    She realized how many times she and Rudy had used each others names.


    She just couldn''t find it in her to care anymore. It seemed such a small thing, compared to the enormity of the battlecruiser. They didn''t need to fool Stephan. Either she would find her mother''s mecha and have nothing to fear from the gangsters, or she would fail and Rudy would fight them like he''d planned from the outset.


    With a start, Chloe realized the only initiative she''d shown since her parents'' kidnapping came when Rudy needed her help. The rest of the time, she trusted him to sort things out.


    She wondered if he would have to sort out Slava.


    She hoped not. Though she knew it was irrational, she couldn''t wrap her head around the idea of a hybrid as her enemy. It wasn''t just that Chloe loved her mom and thought well of hybrids because of her. For years, other hybrids had crewed the Mother Goose and treated Chloe like a little sister.


    "Slava," she said, "is everything all right?"


    "No," the ursid said.


    Chloe gulped. Here it came. Either the psychic turbulence of the place or the arguably justified wrath of a gangster who''d been lied to.


    She felt Rudy extricate himself from her arms, already tensing in a zero gee fighting crouch she thought worthy of Jack Hughes himself. The highest praise she could give.


    Slava surprised them both, though. Instead of enraged, he sounded downright nervous. "I have heard from Sir Kyrillos," he said. Chloe wondered at the new name, but before she could ask, he continued. "We have company."


    "Who?" Rudy asked. He was all business now, shutting out the surrounding horrors, focusing on the new threat.


    "Sir Kyrillos says," Slava said, "it is the Reformer."

 Chapter 30: Algreil Prime

    Chapter 30: Algreil Prime


    Silver, blue and red. Jack didn''t have to look far to see where Algreil Aerospace''s colors came from. Algreil Prime, the world they''d colonized as equal parts corporate headquarters and manufactory, glowed like an immense logo. Outside the massive arcology complexes, it was an uninhabitable desert. The Algreils didn''t terraform it, Otto had once said, because they didn''t want to risk damaging the rare minerals in the soil.


    Jack wondered if they hadn''t left it unterraformed to avoid damaging their company colors.


    "It''s been a while, hasn''t it, old buddy?" Otto said. No doubt he was grinning his usual shit-eating grin.


    Not long enough, Jack thought, but he knew he didn''t mean it. Deep down, he was glad to be back. If it weren''t for his separation from Ellie and Chloe, he would have almost looked forward to what being back meant.


    He said, "Huh."


    Otto chuckled. "Brace up, man. I''ve got business to attend to, and I don''t want you hangdogging it through meetings. It''s defeatist."


    "The hell do you want me at meetings for?" Jack asked. "I''m no bureaucrat."


    "You''re the Emperor''s daughter''s adoptive father," Otto said, "and a decorated war hero. And, you''re in serious contention for the silver medal for second best bullshitter in the galaxy. I want to show my colleagues that we have a serious chance of winning this thing ¨C and fast, this time."


    "You think that''s true?"


    "I think it''s closer to true now than it will be in ten years. The Feds will take us apart if we don''t do the same to them."


    Jack grunted. Hard to believe he''d have welcomed that news a few months ago. Principle, had it only been that long?


    "Besides, if that bastard Avalon hadn''t pulled a second destroyer out of the deep blue sea at exactly the wrong moment, we''d be halfway to winning already. The Feds'' best fleet decapitated with no confirmation of who did it, and us with plenty of time to get into position to put the Senate down. To say nothing of your daughter."


    "Instead,¡± Jack said, ¡°Chloe''s Principle knows where, we slunk off the planet on a smuggler''s bulk transport, and we probably got here about a week before a Navy task force from Etemenos. Almost doesn''t cut it."


    "Relax," Otto said. "I''ve got everything under control."


    Says the self-proclaimed gold medalist bullshitter of the galaxy, Jack thought. Hell of it was, Otto could almost convince him they had a chance ¨C and that it mattered they had a chance.


    Almost didn''t cut it.


    The transport that had brought them, their battered mecha and a handful of Algreil Aerospace escapees from Wellach to Algreil Prime swooped toward the station orbiting the planet atop a massive space elevator. Jack felt the familiar jolt of merging gravitic fields as ship and station joined, and idly wondered just how much Otto had paid the transport''s captain to get them out from under Federal interdict.


    "Gentlemen, you are cleared to disembark," the transport''s computer announced. "Have a safe and profitable trip."


    Not likely, as far as Jack could see.


    For all his carping, though, he found himself following Otto as the Oligarch stalked toward the big airlock of his home station.


    The airlock doors hissed open. Only on the transport side, Jack knew, because even during the Civil War Algreil Aerospace''s headquarters had used smooth, silent nanomachines rather than hydraulics.


    Two lines of suited men bearing the Algreil crest flanked a broad passageway in alternating electric blues and reds. Otto stepped onto the silver carpet down the center, motioning for Jack to follow.


    A quartet of further Algreil men, these in Devil Ray armored flight suits, stepped forward and snapped off a crisp salute. "Mr. Chairman, Colonel Hughes," the leader said. Jack didn''t recognize him from the Civil War. The blazon on his chest indicated he had served with the Marchess Wardens rather than the Devil Rays. "If I may say so, sirs, it is good to see you back in one piece."


    "Good to be back, Colonel." Otto returned the salute. Jack, automatically, did likewise. "What''s our situation?"


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    "Under advisement from the board of directors, Boardmember Marchess-Algreil has assumed temporary control. She has forestalled Federal action by condemning the attack on a Federal Navy vessel and disavowing knowledge of your location. Officially, sir, we do not know you''re still alive."


    "Good girl," Otto said. "Nice to hear she didn''t panic or get sentimental."


    The Warden frowned slightly. Jack assumed ''Boardmember Marchess-Algreil'' was Otto''s wife, heir to the United Shipping Magnate, and that the man before them had changed corporate families when his heiress did.


    "Is Alarie on the station?"


    The Warden nodded. "She is presently engaged in negotiations with Senator Howell, sir."


    "Negotiations! There''s a laugh. Since that senile old fool only speaks marks, I assume you mean bribes? Again, good. He''ll think we want to play along, and he''s small-time enough not to damage the war chest.¡± Abruptly, Otto switched topics. ¡°Senatorial mood?"


    "Guarded, sir," the Warden said. "They do not appear to want open conflict, but we have no indication they are willing to permit the incident to drop as a mere accident."


    "Typical." Otto started walking again. His men fell into line automatically. If Jack hadn''t remembered the habit from his Civil War days, and had a week in transit to practice, he''d have been left behind. "Don''t inform Alarie I''m back until she''s done talking to Howell. I''m going to stay ''dead'' to the Senate for as long as it takes them to figure it out, and we can''t trust her not to let it slip. In the meantime, we need as many of the ''Koi'' contacted as possible. Secure communications, obviously."


    "Obviously, sir," the Warden said.


    Jack had followed the rapid-fire Oligarchical delivery up to that point, but now Otto had completely lost him. "The ''Koi?''"


    "C.O.I.," Otto said. "Captains of Industry. The Oligarchy within the Oligarchy, if you will. Those who weren''t happy about Kalder-Black and getting screwed out of the spoils of war."


    "Just how long have you been setting this up, Otto?¡±


    "Long enough."


    Which, Jack knew, was all he would get from his once-and-current boss. Just like old times, he was on a need-to-know basis, and how much he needed changed with Otto''s whims. Of course, Otto usually planned those seeming whims a few months in advance, with a dozen backup options per hour.


    The Warden said, "When Boardmember Marchess-Algreil concludes her conference with Senator Howell, shall I instruct her to join you, sir?"


    Otto shook his head. "I''ll tell you when to contact Alarie, Colonel, and it won''t be until after the C.O.I. meeting. She may need to run some more unwitting interference while we decide on a course of action."


    "If I may, sir, the Boardmember has been very concerned ¨C"


    "You may not," Otto snapped.


    "Very good, sir," the Warden said flatly.


    Jack kept his mouth shut. He had to. He''d never met Alarie Wein Marchess-Algreil, and even if he had, her and Otto''s marriage was none of his business.


    Chloe hanging out with Otto''s brother, on the other hand... Jack had to suppress a shudder. Principle, let her be too smart to see the charming side of an Algreil and ignore the rest!


    Otto led his small party to one of the tram cars that spun around the station''s outer ring. He must have given it an order through his flight suit''s computer, because the numbers indicating its destination changed as it rolled over to admit him. "All aboard," he said, motioning for Jack and the Warden colonel to take a seat. The rest remained behind without so much as a word.


    Jack climbed in. For someone who liked such spartan conditions in his office, Otto sure as hell knew how to arrange transportation in style. The tram felt roomier than the entire Mother Goose, though Jack would have traded them in a heartbeat.


    "I can''t believe you''re taking me to a damn meeting," he said. "What do you expect me to do?"


    "I already told you," Otto said, "you''ll put the C.O.I.''s minds at ease."


    "You''re gonna tell them you''ve got Chloe," Jack said. "Right?"


    Otto grinned. "The thought had crossed my mind."


    "And when they find out you don''t?"


    "By the time they find out," Otto said, "it won''t be a lie. Or don''t you think we''ll get her back?"


    "I''m only here because I think you''ve got a shot at it ¨C which is more than I''ve got. But the Feds are on site, not us, and Avalon already beat you once. What makes you think Chloe and your little brother can lay low on Wellach?"


    "Don''t underestimate Rudy. He''s not half as stupid as he looks, which, I''ll admit, isn''t saying much. He''d also sooner die than give in to the Federal Navy, and he''s not an easy guy to kill."


    "You sound like you speak from experience." Jack laughed.


    Otto didn¡¯t. "He''ll buy us enough time."


    He sounded as far from cocky as Jack had ever heard him.


    Suddenly, Jack found he didn''t much care for the conversation. He said, "At least it keeps the Reformer pinned down."


    "Actually, Colonel Hughes," the Warden said, "the Reformer left Wellach orbit two days after you did."


    Jack and Otto both stared at him.


    After a too-long pause, Otto said, "Explain."


    "I was under the impression you were apprised of this, sirs. Admiral Avalon''s flagship departed the planet at maximum sublight and entered a compression tunnel eleven hours prior to your transport."


    "That doesn''t make a damn bit of sense," Jack said. "There''s no way Avalon would leave Wellach, not unless ¨C"


    "Unless he had your daughter," Otto finished, "or knew where to get her."

 Chapter 31: Reunion

    Chapter 31: Reunion


    "Where are you taking me?" Ellie asked.


    The marines flanking her said nothing.


    At Avalon''s orders, she occupied a guest suite aboard the Reformer and received the treatment due a senatorial attache or visiting Oligarch, not the hybrid wife of a salvager suspected of fighting for a renegade company and harboring an imperial fugitive. She dined with the admiral and his senior staff, read, watched and listened to whatever she requested from the destroyer''s databanks, fielded no questions, suffered no torture.


    Yet she remained a prisoner, and miserable.


    The Reformer''s crew resented her, she knew. They would have even if most of them didn''t consider her an animal, because their magnetic, hypnotic admiral lavished every consideration upon her. He all but waited on her hand and foot.


    Why?


    Ellie didn''t flatter herself that Marcel Avalon was smitten. Maybe in her prime, when her looks had sufficed at least to get her into trouble, but not after fifteen hard years of salvage mechaneering. People said spacers looked younger than their age, but hybrids generally didn''t live as long as unmodified humans. When Ellie looked in the mirror, she saw more than thirty-six human years in the smile lines crinkling her eyes and the streaks of early gray in the fur at the tips of her ears.


    She''d initially thought the admiral wanted to get to Chloe through her. Perhaps he did. If so, he was a consummate actor, never allowing anything to break through his mask of concern.


    Sometimes, she thought he genuinely felt as sorry as he said he did.


    Whatever the reason for his solicitousness, she would have traded all of it for a lightless dungeon cell and an intermittently filled bowl of cold gruel if she could have had just a glimpse of Jack or Chloe in return.


    "This way," the marine on her left said. He pulled her by the arm as though he didn''t think she could figure it out for herself, or as though it was the only outlet he had for his resentment.


    Or perhaps, she thought sadly, both.


    The marines marched her to an almost identical pair, except that these wore solid gold shoulder pads on their dark green, mecha-like battle armor. Ellie''s escorts snapped off crisp salutes.


    "Here''s the package the admiral requested," the one who had grabbed her said.


    "Good work, Corporal," one of the gold-shouldered marines said. "We''ll take it from here. The two of you are free to return to your regular duties."


    "Sergeant," Ellie''s guards said in unison, stepping back. She didn''t watch them march down the hallway, but she could hear them all the way to the tube station.


    "You," the other gold-shouldered marine said, "come with me."


    At least he let her walk under her own power.


    He escorted her through the double-doors he and his comrade guarded.


    Ellie gasped.


    She stood on the Reformer''s primary bridge for the first time. She''d seen promotional posters for the Federal Navy displaying non-classified views of their most advanced warship, but seeing it first-hand would ordinarily have eclipsed those. The bridge stretched fifty meters across and its dark green bulkheads were almost luminous with reflected glow from hundreds of screens and holograms and the huge three-dimensional image displaying their position relative to objects within a megameter.


    Yet the view through the wall-spanning main screen captured her whole attention. Even the Reformer looked like a toy next to the gargantuan vessel sprawled before it. She recognized it immediately.


    Oh, sweet Principle, no, she thought. The Reformer would only have left the Wellach system for one reason, and she knew it.


    Because Chloe had.


    They had tracked her ¨C


    ¨C to where it all began, all those wonderful years ago. To the hulk of a derelict Imperial battlecruiser, and a silvery mecha, and a luminous being who entrusted Jack and Ellie Hughes with the gift and the burden of a lifetime.


    "Mrs. Hughes," Admiral Avalon called. In public, it was ''Mrs. Hughes'' and ''Ma''am.'' In private, uncomfortably often, it was ''Ellie.'' "Please join us."


    As if I have a choice, Ellie thought. She didn''t push Avalon''s hospitality. If she did, she knew it would vanish and she would be treated like the prisoner she was. She would take a stand if and when her doing so actually mattered.


    The marines didn''t bother escorting her to the high-backed chair Avalon commanded the bridge from. He perched on it, leaned forward, muscles tensed, eyes fixed on the screen, a sprinter awaiting the start of a race ¨C or a predator awaiting a moment of weakness in his prey.


    He flicked his eyes to her as she approached. "I would offer you a seat, but I fear we are at battlestations and cannot spare one. Please forgive me."


    "It''s no problem," Ellie said. "But, Admiral, if you''re at battlestations, should you really have a civilian ¨C" An enemy civilian, she thought with fierce, irrational pride, though you insist on ignoring it. "¨C on the bridge?"


    "I may need your assistance," Avalon said. "Even the few seconds it would take to connect to your chambers could mean the difference between life and death."


    Ellie laughed. "I''m a pretty fair sensor operator, Admiral, but not good enough to win you a battle. My moral support certainly won''t do so, even if I choose to give it."


    "Not our lives or deaths, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said. "Your adopted daughter''s."


    The laugh died in Ellie''s throat.


    "She is aboard that ship, and in very dangerous company. As soon as we pinpoint her location, we will attempt to contact her and then extract her. She must place her trust in us, Mrs. Hughes. You must convince her."


    "You can''t expect me to do that," Ellie said. "As far as I''m concerned, you''re still Chloe''s enemy."


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    "I''ve told you many times, I want only to help Chloe."


    "You''ve told me," Ellie said, "but you haven''t shown me."


    "Nor can I," Avalon countered, preempting an angry interjection from the junior officer seated on his far side, "unless you give me the chance to."


    "I guess I''ll just have to take your word for it, then," Ellie said, "because I won''t help you without some sort of guarantee of Chloe''s safety."


    "I cannot make such a guarantee," Avalon said, "because she has placed herself in grave danger."


    "How?"


    "Lieutenant Richards, please display the ship we trailed here." Avalon waited for a holographic image of a large civilian transport, its sleek, bird-of-prey lines painted black and white. The registry information hovering beside the image proclaimed it the Errant Magpie, one of the late-war Garuda-class transports that supplanted the Mother Goose''s Balder-class.


    "Is this supposed to mean something to me?" Ellie asked.


    "This ship is registered to the Seven Stars Trading Company," Avalon said, "which is owned by Lightspeed Joe''s Easy Marks, a dubious financier operating out of the Kellermain system."


    That company, Ellie recognized. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Those loan sharks. Jack made the mistake of mortgaging the Goose through them and we''ve never heard the end of it."


    "In that case, you may be fortunate we confiscated your ship, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said, "because ''Lightspeed Joe''s'' is a front for the Kronistine Syndicate."


    "The crime family?" Ellie''s gaze flickered from the hologram to the admiral. "You''re saying Chloe came here on a ship owned by the Syndicate? That''s crazy! She''d never take such a risk."


    "She has done so," Avalon said. "I assume she was led astray by the advice of my old adversary the Crimson Phoenix. No doubt Rudy Kaine Algreil believes he has the situation entirely in hand. I assure you, and would assure him, he does not."


    "How do I know any of this is true?" Ellie asked.


    "You still believe I would lie to you?" Avalon sighed. "Well, I suppose it does not matter. You''ll see for yourself when we hail the men occupying that derelict battlecruiser''s bridge. I have it on good authority a member of the Kronid family''s inner circle leads them."


    Avalon tapped a button on one of his armrests. At the wordless command, a communications feed displaced the battlecruiser''s image on the main screen.


    "Admiral Avalon, I presume," said the black flight-suited figure on the screen. "I''d say it was an honor to attract the attention of the Federal Navy''s finest, but let¡¯s be honest. We both know I think nothing of the sort."


    "Do I address Stephan Kronid?" Avalon asked. Ellie had to step back to avoid blocking a hologram that erupted at the admiral''s side, confirming his supposition. A criminal record longer than Ellie was tall rolled past the projection of the Syndicate man''s face. She caught ''mass murder'' and ''high treason'' and couldn''t stomach the rest.


    She thought of Chloe in such company and shuddered.


    "You do address me," Kronid said. "Which begs the question, what do you want from me?"


    "Your life, scum," Avalon snarled.


    Kronid either hid his emotions well or held up better in the face of Avalon''s wrath than anyone Ellie had met. The Syndicate man didn''t even draw back as Avalon''s extraordinary voice assaulted him. Calmly, he said, "I suppose you''ll settle for the lives of my passengers, though? Or do you want to hold out for the erinyes, too, for whatever good it would do you?"


    Ellie''s ear twitched. Erinyes?


    "Abhorrent as I find it, I will offer you a deal," Avalon said, hate simmering just below the boiling point in his voice.


    Kronid nodded. "Which is, of course, the only reason you came within a pentameter of me."


    "Perhaps."


    "Certainly." Kronid folded his long frame into a command chair much like Avalon''s, steepled his hands. The chair seemed to fit him well. He glanced at something below him and his hands tightened on the arm-rests.


    The communications window showed only Kronid, his perch, and an empty expanse of carpeted floor behind him. Ellie wondered what the Syndicate man was looking at. Something on the bridge of the battlecruiser? Principle alone knew what carnage lay at the former ¡°brain¡± of the dead ship.


    ¡°But in any case, Admiral,¡± Kronid said, ¡°why should I make a deal with you¡­ instead of dealing with your little destroyer?¡± He toyed with controls Ellie assumed tied to the battlecruiser''s weapons.


    ¡°You''re bluffing, and badly,¡± Avalon said. ¡°Your Errant Magpie could not carry a battlecruiser crew if you packed them elbow to elbow in its cargo hold.¡±


    Kronid shrugged theatrically. ¡°True enough ¨C if only my Maggie were here. I took the precaution of calling in reinforcements as soon as I knew where your prize wanted to go, and why. Really, Admiral, you ought to know we of all people know how to operate this ship. But if you require a demonstration¡­¡±


    The battlecruiser''s external lights flared to distorted life, bending weirdly under its powerful gravitic shields.


    ¡°Shields,¡± Avalon called, but his crew had reacted instinctively to pull them up as soon as the other ship did. ¡°Prepare for evasive maneuvers.¡±


    Kronid laughed. ¡°Now, now, Admiral. This ship is big, but it''s also old and damaged. I don''t know I could kill every last one of you Federal bastards before you got in here with your mecha. I''d much rather not have to try.¡±


    Ellie watched Avalon wrestle with the decision. He seemed unable to control the way he projected his emotions. His audio-visual empathy might make him an effective leader, but she doubted he could run a bluff to save his life. He cycled through rage and frustration and concern and settled on satisfaction.


    "Bringing the shields up and turning on the lights? I remain unimpressed, criminal, and unconvinced. These are simple tasks, suitable for a less than skeleton crew. If that ship''s main guns still functioned and you controlled them, you would have attempted to fire before I raised my shields." Avalon smiled grimly. "Although, they would have been up in time anyway; Otto Algreil taught us a painful lesson in punctuality."


    "Perhaps I don''t need or want to kill you myself, Admiral," Kronid said. "Perhaps all I need is time.


    "Perhaps," he said, "I find it much more appropriate to let Madame President''s favorite hunting hound catch his quarry and find out how badly outmatched he really is."


    "If you intend to use Chloe Hughes and the erinyes against me, Kronid," Avalon said, "you will be disappointed. Her adoptive mother is aboard this ship. The daughter will not harm her."


    "An amusing lie, but Chloe will do what I tell her," Kronid said. "She''s proven delightfully pliable so far."


    "You lying bastard," Ellie snarled. She leaped forward, as though she could throttle him through the Reformer''s main screen.


    Kronid actually seemed at a loss for words. Then his cool slipped back into place. "Well. Ellie... Hughes, I suppose, now. You really are aboard that ship? I figured it was Avalon''s turn to bluff. And, I might add, you''re as lovely as ever."


    She blinked. "What?"


    "I''m a little sad, though not surprised, you don''t remember me," he said. "We only met briefly, and we were both quite young. I certainly remember you, though. I would even if your brothers hadn''t always spoken so highly of you."


    "My brothers ¨C?" She shot a glance at Avalon. "What is he talking about?"


    Kronid answered. "Didn''t the admiral tell you, Ellie? I know his grossly misnamed comrades in Federal Intelligence are aware of it by now, so I can only assume Madame President passed it on to him. Your family and mine go back a long way."


    Ellie stared at the crime lord, picturing the man behind the mask of the black flight suit.


    Beanpole thin. Sharp-nosed. And that voice...


    Ellie had known a man with that voice in a life so long ago she scarcely thought of it now. Like most free hybrids, she''d been a liegewoman to a noble house. Her lords had answered to a greater house, and the owner of that voice had been its favorite son.


    Stephan Kronid?


    Stephan Kyrillos.


    Psychic. Mechaneer-aristocrat. Hero of the Civil War.


    A man who Ellie, and every other girl she¡¯d known, had fooled themselves into thinking they loved, before she learned what a paltry imitation of love that empty crush was.


    The last man Ellie would ever want her daughter around ¨C and, maybe, the best hope her daughter had.

 Chapter 32: Revelation

    Chapter 32: Revelation


    "What''s going on?" Rudy jetted up to Slava and got as much in the ursid''s muzzle as he could manage in zero gee. "Is Stephan talking to the Reformer? What frequency are they using, dammit?"


    Slava ignored the questions. He went around Rudy with two quick bursts of maneuvering thrusters and continued toward the far airlock and the mecha bay beyond. His head stayed cocked the whole way. Listening to words from Stephan on high, no doubt.


    Rudy''s flight suit played with frequencies, seeking the one that would let him and Chloe in on a conversation that was probably determining their fates.


    Stephan, he figured, would turn them over to the Feds in a heartbeat. Probably buy the sleazy bastard a few pardons, or at least a few Federal megamarks. The only thing keeping Slava from trying to grab Rudy and Chloe had to be his boss dickering on the finder''s fee.


    Rudy followed the ursid through the miasma of twisted Imperial corpses not because he wanted to buddy up to the ursid gangster when Feds and Syndicate settled on a price, but because he wanted to be as close to the mecha bay as possible.


    The nobs were supposed to have had some damned fine machines. From what Chloe said, her mother''s mecha surpassed even those. Maybe, with its power, he could renegotiate terms favorable to him and Chloe.


    Assuming he could subdue an ursid twice his height and four or five times his weight.


    Assuming Chloe could get her mother''s mecha running.


    Assuming either of them could pilot it.


    Assuming good old Marcel didn''t bring enough firepower to laugh it off ¨C to throw bodies at the problem until it ceased to be a problem, in true Fed style.


    Those sounded like painfully long odds, even to Rudy.


    He had no better ideas, so he played them anyway.


    He and Slava burned to a hard stop a few meters from the airlock. Slava wasted no time tearing the cover off and hurling it to bounce off the floor. His big hands worked the controls with surprising delicacy, sliding the great circular lock open faster than Rudy could have.


    He sure seemed in a hurry.


    Maybe negotiations had fallen through.


    ¡°Chloe, come on,¡± Rudy said ¨C no reason to screw around with ''Petras'' and ''Ollies'' now ¨C before realizing she hadn''t bothered to stop. She was in the airlock, barely clearing the opening door, barely stopping at the far one. He joined her.


    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± she asked.


    He shrugged. ¡°I''ll figure something out.¡±


    ¡°In case you don''t,¡± she said, jetting next to him and slowing herself by clasping his hands, ¡°I want to apologize.¡±


    ¡°You want to apologize?¡±


    ¡°For everything you''ve gone through,¡± she said, ¡°and for how little you''ve gotten in return.¡±


    ¡°If you''re propositioning me, Clo, I''d much rather you waited till we were in an atmosphere where we could safely unseal these flight suits.¡±


    ¡°Please be serious, Rudy.¡± She sounded so heart-rendingly earnest, he couldn''t say no. Damn that girl! ¡°You''re not a spacer, so you probably can''t understand how much it bothered me when you asked what you did.¡±


    She trailed off.


    Rudy sure as hell wasn''t a spacer, but she was wrong. He knew enough about their culture ¨C from going on two months in Chloe''s company if nothing else ¨C to understand pretty damned well.


    He''d known that for a long time, but he sure as hell hadn''t let it stop him from raising the subject. Sure, he''d been kidding. Mostly.


    He didn''t think it was something Spacer girls kidded about.


    Maybe it was time he started thinking about that, huh?


    ¡°Listen, Clo,¡± he said.


    ¡°Let me finish.¡± She seemed to get her confidence back, then lost it again just as quickly. ¡°I think we''re gonna die or get separated or worse.¡±


    Rudy gulped. ¡°You have a hunch?¡±


    ¡°I have a brain,¡± she said.


    He wished he could tell her not to worry, but since she probably hadn''t thought of half as many of their problems as he had, he didn''t have the heart to. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°Rudy, I, someday¡­ someday, if you¡­¡± He could see her gulp through her flight suit. ¡°¡­ what I''m trying to say is, you''ve done so much for me, and I wish I could give back half as much. I hope someday I can. Knowledge and power, of course, and anything else it''s my right to give.¡±


    ¡°Chloe,¡± he began. He had it all laid out, a genuine rarest-of-all-rarities Rudy Kaine Algreil apology. He was the one who didn''t get it. He''d been tired and angry and scared and coming off the god of all adrenaline highs, and what he''d wanted to say as a joke came out serious, and when she went off on him it had pissed him off so bad he couldn''t even see straight. He didn''t want knowledge or power or any of that crap, and she sure as hell was his friend as long as she wanted to be, and anything else she wanted to be, and if he''d hurt her, then dammit he meant to make it up to her a hundredfold! And he ¨C


    ¨C never said a word of it.


    The airlock finished its silent, stately roll to the open position.


    "We have no time," Slava said. "The Reformer is here!"


    The ursid grabbed Rudy and Chloe, moving quicker than anyone that big had any right to. He hauled them into the mecha bay on full jets, leaving a superheated particulate trail that rapidly dispersed in vacuum.


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    Row upon row of mecha, painted white and gold and pale green ¨C Imperial Guard colors ¨C, filled the hangar. One look at the sleek elite models and Rudy fell silent, more awe-struck than by the battlecruiser itself. These were mecha decades ahead of their time. He could tell at a glance that the Epee, though considered state of the art by Federal and Oligarchical standards, wrestled with design flaws these had already solved.


    Principle, talk about knowledge and power! If Otto could have put models like this into production, Rudy would have three or four Etemenos Cups on his mantle.


    Yet none of the Imperial Guard mecha had launched during whatever attack doomed their ship.


    None of them looked like the silvery mecha Chloe''s parents had told her about.


    "I don''t think it''s in this bay," Rudy said, shouting because the senses of scale and motion seemed to dictate he should. Without any kind of background noise, the feedback from his voice sounded painfully loud over the comlink.


    "It isn''t," Chloe said miserably. "I would feel it if it were."


    Great. Wonderful. Their trip through the battlecruiser''s hellish interior amounted to exactly squat?


    Rudy sighed. ¡°Now what?¡±


    ¡°We have to find it, Rudy.¡± Chloe stretched out her long fingers and gripped Slava''s flight suit. ¡°Slava, you have to slow down! We have to search another mecha bay.¡±


    ¡°There is no time,¡± the ursid gangster said. ¡°I am sorry, but the Magpie must pick us up.¡±


    ¡°No! We have to find it,¡± Chloe insisted. ¡°We can''t let the Feds get mother''s mecha.¡±


    ¡°They won''t.¡± A new voice entered the comlink conversation ¨C Stephan''s. ¡°The people responsible for Empress Karissa''s death dare not approach her erinyes. That angel''s flaming sword would destroy them as surely as it will defend its rightful owner.¡±


    ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± Rudy asked.


    ¡°It means get your Oligarchical ass on the Magpie, Rudy Kaine Algreil, or I will have the pleasure of leaving you to rot on this ghost ship.¡± Timed to Stephan''s words, the mecha bay doors opened, moving in eerily silent fits and starts, and the Errant Magpie slid expertly through them. Its own, much smaller mecha bay opened in a single smooth motion as it swooped toward Rudy, Chloe and Slava.


    Before it reached them, a mecha emerged.


    It looked like a black version of the Imperial Guard models lining the mecha bay. Long arms ending in long, elegant fingers with vibrating, razor-sharp backs, a sextet of long thruster-wings emerging like a black sun from its smoothly rounded, humanoid torso, a sloping, avian head, pointed feet equipped with thrusters of their own, clearly designed exclusively for zero-gee use.


    On its raven-feather shiny breastplate gleamed a white-outlined emblem of a black crow on a black field, soaring above a white tower.


    Black crow.


    Black Rook.


    "Son of a bitch," Rudy swore. "That''s where I recognized his voice from."


    "With a razor-sharp mind like yours, I have no doubt you''ll one day provide your company with record profits," Stephan, or whatever his real name was, said. "Now get aboard the Magpie."


    "What are you gonna do, Rook, checkmate a whole destroyer?"


    "I backed that destroyer off," Stephan said, "using my brain. I told them Her Highness had the erinyes and that she would destroy them all, assuming this battlecruiser does not. While they seemed disinclined to believe either, I expect the bluff to hold Marcel Avalon long enough for the Magpie to clear the battlecruiser''s gravitic shield."


    "Wait, what? ''Her Highness?'' ''Erinyes?'' I thought you nobs spoke the same language as the rest of us." Rudy slipped Slava''s grasp and pulled Chloe after him. "I think you owe us an explanation."


    "I certainly owe Princess Chloe an explanation," Stephan said. "You may be present if she wishes. However, I also owe her the service of getting her away from the Federal Navy."


    "Princess?" Chloe looked down at herself. "There must be some mistake, Mr. Kronid!"


    "Then we will learn as much later," he snapped. Belatedly, he added, "Your Highness."


    "You still haven''t explained why you''re out here in your mecha," Rudy said. He hadn''t explained a whole hell of a lot of things, starting with why a Periphery noble apparently ran a crime ring in his spare time.


    "Because unlike you," Stephan said, "I do not need a ship to create a compression tunnel with which to escape this place. I will create a diversion to keep the Divine Auric Drake and his men from realizing you intend to flee, then join you."


    "Are you sure you''ll be all right?" Leave it to Chloe to worry about a guy who''d consistently played her and Rudy for fools. She sounded genuinely concerned about the bastard. "Can''t you just come with us?"


    "My first duty is to ensure your safety, Highness," Stephan said.


    Rudy rolled his eyes. What was the harm? Chloe couldn''t see him do it.


    "Besides," the crime boss-cum-noble ¨C or was it the other way around? ¨C added, "the Crimson Phoenix has twice defeated the Divine Auric Drake. I hardly think the latter will provide me with a challenge."


    That''s it, Rudy thought. You''d better live, you bastard nob, ''cause I''ve got to kill you myself.


    Chloe squeezed Rudy''s hand, bringing him back to the moment. "I know what you''re thinking," she whispered, "and maybe you have a right to, but this is not the time. Right?"


    "Right," Rudy sighed.


    He and Chloe followed Slava into the Errant Magpie''s mecha bay, while the Black Rook faded into the shadows of the battlecruiser''s larger one. Stephan''s machine seemed to vanish. Rudy wondered if he just blended in, or if he used the same camouflage of light-deflecting psions the Animus Hunter had at the Wellach Cup.


    Rudy also wondered what had happened to the Animus Hunter at the Wellach Cup. He''d seemed like the more powerful psychic in his duel with the Black Rook, at least to the point Rudy lost consciousness.


    Rudy glanced around the hangar he hadn''t been able to get into. Four smaller Civil War-era mecha, equipped like the Black Rook had been at the tournament, filled four of the bays. Probably mecha for Stephan''s men-at-arms. Four bays sat empty, including the two largest. Rudy assumed one of those belonged to Stephan''s preferred mecha and the other waited for Chloe''s mother''s.


    Her ''erinyes?'' Did Stephan mean the silvery mecha they''d come to find?


    He shrugged. Whatever it was called, they weren''t gonna get it this trip, and Rudy didn''t fancy coming back for it.


    "Up, little ones," Slava said. "To the bridge."


    With a last glance at the mecha ¨C not that Rudy particularly wanted to pilot one of the Civil War relics left in the bay ¨C he bounded up a ladder and pulled Chloe after him. Good thing. She almost slipped, and he didn''t blame her. Moving in normal gravity felt crippling after only a half hour of zero gee.


    The long-locked door slid open as they approached. Rudy charged through and sprinted upwards. He hated feeling powerless and in the dark, and away from the bridge, he was both. At least he''d be able to see the fight on the Magpie''s main screen.


    He wondered who he should root for. The enemy of his enemy, in this case, was another enemy.


    He decided to back Marcel. The enemy he knew and all that, and besides, if the admiral and his men took Stephan down, Rudy still felt confident he could wrest control of the Errant Magpie from the latter''s thugs.


    Where he would take the ship, now, posed a greater challenge.

 Chapter 33: Turnabout

    Chapter 33: Turnabout


    The Errant Magpie jerked upwards.  Chloe would have been hurled across the bridge if the ship''s artificial gravity hadn''t dampened the acceleration.  Instead, she recognized the motion only from the images flashing across the main screen.


    "Strap in, Your Highess, Commander Slava," Tarkov, the Kronistine helmsman, called from the front of the bridge.  "This could get choppy."


    Chloe noticed he didn''t bother to warn Rudy, who strapped into an empty chair anyway.


    She wondered how much maneuvering the Magpie could do.  The Mother Goose could never have executed such a turn at all, much less one capable of taxing the newer ship''s obviously better-than-line-model inertial dampeners.


    Slava asked, "Where is Lord Kyrillos?"


    Chloe realized with a start that the hybrid commanded in Stephan''s absence.  Until the Kronistine men revealed their actual allegiance, he''d acted the part of a common thug.


    "I''ve lost contact, Commander," Quinn, the sensor man, said.  "He''s stealthed."


    "The Reformer?"


    "Coming in fast," Quinn said.  "It will be onscreen ¨C now."


    The Magpie finished its turn toward the sea of stars.  A blunt wedge loomed on their left, its well-lit exterior growing larger with every second.


    Tarkov glanced over his shoulder.  "Sir?"


    "That is not so good," Slava said.  "Your Highness forgive us, we must wait."


    "It''s your ship," Chloe said.  "And please, don''t call me that."


    For an awful moment, Chloe thought the Reformer intended to ram the battlecruiser.  Its searchlights lanced at the battlecruiser all across the visual spectrum and even beyond, painfully bright.


    Then she realized the bigger ship''s shields had come up, distorting the view.  The destroyer executed what seemed like an impossibly close pass before vanishing overhead.


    "Now?" Tarkov asked.


    "Wait for Lord Kyrillos," Slava said.


    A mecha''s smaller searchlight pierced the hangar.


    Chloe tensed.  The Magpie, she realized, had its own lights off.  But wouldn''t the Feds recognize it anyway?


    They never got the chance.


    A blur shot from the shadows beneath them.  The probing searchlight spun wildly into the vacuum, still attached to the dismembered arm of the mecha bearing it.


    A silvery form unfolded before the line mecha, bathing the hangar in brilliant light.


    For a moment, Chloe thought it was her birth mother''s mecha, but it looked somewhat smaller, more mechanical than her parents had described that machine.  Besides, Chloe recognized the outline if not the color scheme: Stephan''s machine.  "Why does he look like that?" she asked.


    "I can guess," Rudy said.  "I''ll bet the Black Rook there is trying to sell Marcel on you having your ''erinyes'' and knowing how to use it.  I''ll also bet he''s piping his communications through the battlecruiser so it looks like he''s still aboard."


    "This is so," Slava said.


    "But why?" Chloe asked.  "Say I did have my mother''s mecha.  Say I even knew how to fight.  It still wouldn''t amount to a hill of beans to a whole destroyer, right?"


    Slava, Tarkov and Quinn exchanged glances.


    Chloe gulped.  "Right?"


    "What exactly is Stephan trying to sell?" Rudy asked.  "I think we better know, in case we need to back up his bluff."


    "Erinyes," Slava said.  "That is an Imperial''s mecha.  With that, with Her Highness to pilot it?  Admiral Avalon would have no time to be afraid."


    "You expect us to believe," Rudy said, "that one mecha, however powerful, could take on a modern destroyer?"


    "Or a whole fleet," Slava said.


    "Then how come this ''erinyes'' is sitting in a mecha bay on a dead battlecruiser, Chloe grew up with adoptive parents instead of her allegedly invincible real ones, and we''re cutting and running?"


    Slava''s whole head bent forward with a frown of concentration, difficult for his jaw to form.  After a long time, he said, "That, I do not know, Oligarch''s son."


    Rudy groaned.  "Wonderful."


    Chloe kept out of the interchange.  She felt an inkling of a hunch, an answer just beyond her reach, but her mind refused to grasp it.  She wondered why her intuition ¨C her clairvoyance, since she had no reason to deny what it was anymore ¨C instinctively shied from this truth.


    Once she learned to use her powers, she''d understand.


    She blinked.  She had come to the battlecruiser for knowledge and power, believing her mother''s mecha held both.  In doing so, she had delivered herself into the hands of people who could, who surely would, train her to use her psychic heritage.


    Did she know for sure which outcome her clairvoyance had predicted?


    Before she could consider the implications, the view on the screen recaptured her attention.


    Stephan might not wield the power to destroy the Reformer, but his mecha had so far done nothing to dispel the illusion he did.  Every sweep of his machine''s glowing arms sent a wave of laser-like white light rippling through a squadron of Fed mecha.  The waves cut through stubby line mecha like monomolecular scythes, casting the machines'' dismembered remains into deep space.  Even if the Reformer hadn''t moved to the far side of the battlecruiser to avoid the alleged erinyes, its guns could not have targeted something as small as the Black Rook through the cruiser''s powerful gravitic shield.


    "Are you sure," Chloe asked, "he can''t beat them all?"


    "Those crappy line mecha are just here to flush us out," Rudy said.  "Once the elite mechaneers in Wyverns show up, much less the Divine Auric Drake, Stephan will have to bug out."


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    "That is not so certain," Slava said.  "It is the ship my lord fears, not the men."


    "Oh, please," Rudy said.  "That''s the kind of attitude that lost you guys the Civil War."


    The ursid growled.


    "What?  You did, remember?  Lose, I mean.  Even before the Feds butted their noses in, the Oligarchy was winning."


    Chloe reached for his arm.  "Rudy¡­"


    He glanced at her.  "You don''t buy this crap, do you, Clo?"


    "Stephan does seem awfully powerful."  She thought, but didn''t say, he beat you using one of those ''crappy line mecha'' you''re disparaging, and you in your Epee.  Doesn''t him being powerful make that less shameful?


    Rudy rolled his eyes.  "I''m just saying, he''s ridiculously outnumbered.  The Feds can take these kinds of losses.  Billions of kids would give an arm and a leg to call themselves Federal Navy mechaneers.  A war hero never has to sleep alone, you know?  And those line mecha literally build themselves.  I''ve seen the nanopaste colonies working the asteroid belts.  Plop a canister down, come back a month later and you''ve got a batch of newly minted cookie-cutter mecha."


    "This does not mean my lord loses," Slava said, "only that his winning this fight does not win a war."


    "It means the Feds will keep throwing troops at him until he makes a mistake," Rudy said.  "Everybody makes mistakes, and it only takes one.  How many young noblemen you guys have waiting on an opening in the mechaneer corps?  Ten?  Five?  Any?"


    Slava didn''t answer verbally.  His curious, ursid frown said volumes.


    "Thought so," Rudy said.  "What about mecha?  How come you men-at-arms don''t get fancy ones like your boss''s?  Don''t suppose you can''t make new ones like that?"


    Again, Rudy''s question elicited no answer.


    "Look," he continued, "I''ll be honest ¨C I really don''t want you guys to build back up and win a new Civil War, although I''m not sold on the idea the Feds are an improvement.  With that said, you''re at least not actively trying to kill me, so here''s some free advice: ''your lord'' is out there because he wants to show off, not because it''s important enough for him to risk his precious noble ass over."


    "You have no right," Slava snarled.  He surged from the captain''s chair.


    Rudy met him halfway across the bridge.  He rolled inside an overhead swing and kicked himself back and airborn before the ursid could clasp him in a killing grip.  The impact rolled Rudy smoothly to his feet and sent Slava rocking back on his heels.


    Quinn shot from his seat in defense of his superior.  Tarkov apparently didn''t dare switch to autopilot when he was waiting for an opening to flee, but he craned his neck to watch.


    Rudy vaulted Quinn''s lunge and kicked the Kronistine man into Slava as the latter started to right himself.  Rudy followed the tangled men down, snagging Quinn''s ankle with his own and spinning the stunned sensor operator up into a punch that smashed him across his console to the lower deck where Tarkov sat.


    Slava had his footing now, though.  He socked Rudy backwards into a darkened, unused bank of controls and lunged after him.  The ursid reeled back, gagging, from a punch to the throat.  He recovered almost instantly, hurling back a second punch with his massive forearm and smashing Rudy into a screen.


    Rudy didn''t stay down long.  He whipped his legs up to grip the ursid''s neck.  When Slava pulled his arm back to wrench Rudy''s legs away, Rudy snapped himself forward at the waist and jabbed the ursid''s nose.  The momentum sent them both sliding toward the center of the bridge, Rudy''s fists shooting like pistons into his dazed opponent''s snout.  He flipped off before Slava crashed to the deck.


    Chloe had watched the whole exchange in a single unconsciously held breath.


    Now she exhaled ¨C and moved.


    "Get the sensor man," Rudy shouted.  "We can take the ship now ¨C"


    Chloe tackled him.


    She couldn''t have hoped to scratch Rudy in a fair fight.  She lacked anything approaching combat training, much less martial arts, he outmassed her by kilos overall and even more in muscle mass, and she possessed all the killer instinct of a frightened deer.


    But knock him back while he stared, stunned?


    That, she could do.


    "What are you doing?" she demanded, her face flush and her knuckles white with rage.


    He stared up at her.  "Thought we were gonna ¨C"


    "You didn''t think, Rudy, not even a little.  You never think.  You just wing it and fly by the seat of your pants and want to make a big show of fighting these men because you''re mad Stephan''s a better fighter!"


    "We planned on this, Chloe," Rudy hissed.  "Remember?  We had it all worked out."


    "When we thought we were dealing with gangsters," she said.  "Even then, you swore you''d only fight them if they betrayed us or if you thought it was the only way we''d survive."


    "Whatever you say ¨C Princess."  Rudy spat the title like a curse.


    Chloe climbed unsteadily to her feet and took a step back.


    She felt Slava''s hand on her arm, tensed.


    "You are well, Highness?" he asked.


    "Of course," she said.  "Rudy would never hurt me."


    "Too bad the feeling isn''t mutual," Rudy said.  He flipped to his feet and backed up against a console.  "Seeing as how you probably just got me killed."


    "No one is going to hurt you, Rudy," Chloe said.  "These men aren''t gangsters.  They''re men-at-arms to a member of the mechaneer-aristocracy, and they think that I''m the daughter of the Emperor.  Even if they''re wrong, I''m at least a noble."


    "They''re Stephan''s thugs," Rudy said.  "They may be something else as well as gangsters, but that doesn''t mean they''re any less gangsters."


    "But they aren''t really criminals," Chloe said.  She looked over her shoulder at Slava''s bloodied face.  "They just pretend to be part of the Syndicate to sneak around the Federated Stars. Right?"


    The ursid didn''t answer.


    "How do you think," Rudy said, waving a hand to encompass the Magpie''s battered bridge, "they keep this operation running?  The Feds froze all the nobles'' assets and drove them from all but the most remote of their physical holdings.  Stephan does operate the Kronistine Syndicate.  It''s the only thing that makes sense.  In fact, I''ll bet it''s nothing new.  When did you people take the Syndicate over?"


    "There was no need," Slava said.  "It is ours, always was.  Intelligence division."


    "You boys must''ve been pretty slick back then.  Are you slipping nowadays, or are most people as gullible as Chloe?"


    She flushed, more embarrassed because she couldn''t deny it than angry because he said it.


    "It is not so hard," Slava said.  "The crime is always there.  We organize.  We guide.  Then we listen.  Effective, yes?"


    "Like I said, pretty slick.  I doubt Otto has as good of an intelligence service, and the Feds sure as hell don''t."


    "What happens now?" Chloe asked.


    "Now," Rudy said, "your friends here probably shoot me."


    She followed his gaze.  Quinn had drawn a long, heavy-caliber pistol.  He pointed it at Rudy''s chest.


    "No," Chloe cried.  "You can''t!"


    "He attacked us, Your Highness," the sensor man said.  "He could''ve killed me, knocking me over the railing like that.  Or all of us, if he damaged the controls.  For your safety, we have to put him down."


    "He made a mistake," Chloe said.  She tried to interpose herself between Rudy and Quinn, but Slava''s grip was iron on her arm.  She whirled on him, twisting uncomfortably.  "He thought it was what I wanted."


    "It does not matter," Slava said.  "Quinn ¨C"


    The Kronistine helmsman inclined his head.  His finger tightened on the trigger.


    Rudy tensed, his eyes flashing about as he searched for cover and a way to get to it.


    Slava stood impassive, his bloodied jaws forming his subordinate''s name.


    Tarkov split his attention between the standoff and the main screen, where the Black Rook''s arm froze, faux-erinyes light forming to lash out at the first of the elite Wyvern mecha cresting the view.


    The chronometer''s count of seconds disappeared, awaiting its near-instantaneous replacement.


    A drop of blood, Slava''s or Rudy''s, pooled at the edge of a broken console and, sparked into motion by a stray wire, began its plummet to the floor.


    Chloe saw it all, down to the minutest detail.  She felt like she had an eternity to take it all in, like she could step outside the moment and put it in a glass and keep it forever.


    Then time flowed back, and a gun crashed, and Chloe moved.

 Chapter 34: Scars

    Chapter 34: Scars


    Ellie stood on the Reformer''s bridge, not because she believed she had any place there, not because she wanted to see what promised to be a bloody spectacle, not because she would stop Chloe from destroying the ship if she could, not even because anyone had ordered her to stay.


    She simply didn''t know where else to go.


    On the main screen, Marcel Avalon¡¯s Divine Auric Drake and four Wyverns of similar design converged on a silvery mecha obviously meant to evoke images of the silvery mecha within the battlecruiser.


    Ellie had seen Chloe''s mother''s mecha with her own eyes. The dancing quicksilver fake was impressive ¨C but she knew it for a fake from the outset.


    She wondered if any of the Federal Navy men could guess what she thought of the mecha, decided they couldn''t. To read her expression, they would have to pay her the slightest attention.


    None, save for those whose duties kept their gazes locked to their consoles, looked anywhere but at the mecha duel unfolding before them.


    Ellie knew Stephan Kyrillos had to be the pilot of the silver mecha. Unlike most of the mechaneer-aristocrats she''d served, he had loved to boast about fooling the Oligarchical forces as much as he''d loved to boast of destroying them in open battle. Playing the role of a crime lord should have constituted his most spectacular deception. Impersonating an imperial and disguising his mecha as what he and the Federal Navy called an erinyes trumped it easily.


    He might require his tricks just to survive now, but she''d never believe he didn''t still enjoy them.


    Ellie would have shared his amusement at the consternation of their mutual foes ¨C for such the Feds surely were ¨C if she hadn''t so disliked the idea of Stephan having access to Chloe.


    Ellie didn''t fear for her daughter''s life. Stephan had every reason to protect her.


    He also had every reason to use her.


    Ellie had not numbered among Stephan¡¯s conquests back then, but not for lack of trying. She¡¯d watched other girls catch his eye, while her own best efforts only managed to enchant her own liege, Corin Basilios. He¡¯d been younger than Stephan, even younger than Ellie¡¯s teenage self, barely more than a boy, and only a knight besides. Nonetheless, on the eve of his shipping out, she¡¯d agreed to his advances.


    At the time, she¡¯d felt mortified when, afterwards, Corin cried himself to sleep in her arms. She felt like she¡¯d failed herself by not winning the affections of a greater lord.


    It didn¡¯t occur to her until a month later, when she learned of Corin¡¯s death, and her brothers¡¯, and as far as she¡¯d known, Stephan¡¯s, why Corrin had wept. That was when it sunk in for her why the mechaneer-aristocracy had been reduced to sending teenagers to war.


    A month after that, her homeworld fell. What remained of the Basilios family was executed on the spot. What remained of Ellie¡¯s, the Feds dragged to their VCL camps.


    Thinking of the camp, she took a fierce joy from watching one of Stephan''s blasts of coherent light slice cleanly through a Wyvern''s torso, sending the halves spiraling apart as their separated thruster-wings fired at opposed angles. Anyone who flew for the Feds deserved the worst Stephan Kyrillos, Otto Abeir Algreil, and anyone else who cared to join in could imagine!


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    A small part of Ellie reminded her that the Navy pilots had probably never even heard of the VCL camps. She refused to excuse them their ignorance, though. Unlike civilians, they could have found out. Unlike civilians, they could have done something. Resigned, as Jack had over just a hint of what had happened, or revolted in such numbers the Senate would have had to stop.


    Ellie found her back to the wall of the Reformer''s bridge and her head in her hands. She''d done so well, despite the familiar Federal uniforms and the familiar Federal green walls, but now she''d broken her cardinal rule.


    She didn''t think about the camp. Ever.


    Seeing Stephan again, she couldn''t help but remember.


    She wondered if he knew.


    That she and her family and friends and rivals had been rounded up for ¡°processing¡± after the Basilos family was destroyed and the survivors of House Kyrillos fled for their holdings in the Periphery.


    That Ellie had been pregnant by Corin, and that the Feds had murdered their baby ¨C son or daughter, she never had the chance to know, oh Principle, they never told her, no matter how much she begged for even that much, no matter what she did.


    A hybrid was valuable. A half-hybrid demonstrated genetic compatibility with humans, and that created uncomfortable questions the Feds would not permit.


    She had never told anyone, even Jack. He knew most of it: the cruel guards, the cramped barracks, the occasional deaths, and the planned experiments that would have killed the rest trying to unlock the secrets of artificial psionics. But not, never, about her and Corin¡¯s baby. Nor that the reason she couldn''t bear Jack''s children had nothing to do with genetic incompatibility, everything to do with Federal-mandated sterilization.


    Ellie knew Jack would feel her baby''s loss as his own. She knew he would have fought the people who''d done it. And she knew he couldn''t win.


    If Chloe could...


    Ellie shook her head. No!


    She didn''t wish war on Chloe! She would not, never, risk her adopted child''s life and happiness to avenge her murdered one''s. If bringing the Federal Senate to justice meant Chloe using her powers, then the Feds could damn well continue to exist.


    Even so, Ellie prayed Stephan would win the battle unfolding over the battlecruiser.


    Unless Marcel Avalon''s skill at deception exceeded that of all other men she''d known, Ellie truly believed he was a good man, that he wanted to help Chloe, that he did not know what his Senatorial masters had ordered, and that he would never believe it.


    She just as truly believed his character meant nothing. Avalon would follow his orders to deliver Chloe to the Senate, and the Senate could not suffer an imperial heir to live. Principle knew, they had no compunctions about killing innocents! As long as Chloe existed, as long as anyone descended from her existed, billions of people would consider themselves subject to her. If Avalon''s fear of engaging an awakened erinyes was justified, Chloe had the power to press those claims.


    Stephan, on the other hand, was not a good man, though Ellie couldn''t judge if he was truly a bad one. He helped himself first and foremost, his family second, his fellow aristocrats a distant third. He would use Chloe to his advantage. He would seduce her if he could, and he would surely persuade her to use her power against the Feds.


    But unlike Avalon, Stephan would make his own decisions. He followed no orders, obeyed nothing but his own ambitions. Ellie saw no reason he would want anything but Chloe''s continued health. He would want to sire the new imperial line, not destroy it. He might even be persuaded to settle for the mere existence of that line.


    Ellie wished for a far better pattern to Chloe''s days than what Stephan would provide. Better a poor pattern than none at all.

 Chapter 35: Imperious

    Chapter 35: Imperious


    Chloe slid to a stop between Quinn and Rudy, facing the Kyrillos man-at-arms. Behind her, she heard Rudy slam against a bulkhead as the slug hit him.


    Help him! Her every instinct begged her to run to his side and see if she could help. To see if he was still within her power to help. But if she did that, he wouldn''t be. The Kyrillos men would kill him, if they hadn''t already. He''d been right about them, so right, and now, because she''d interfered ¨C


    "Step aside, Your Highness," Quinn said. "I have to make sure ¨C"


    Chloe locked gazes with him.


    "Put the gun down," she said. She hardly recognized her voice. She felt like she would shake apart, but she sounded perfectly calm.


    "Highness ¨C"


    "If you don''t put the gun down," Chloe said, "if Rudy is d... if you do him any further harm... I will destroy this ship and kill every last one of you."


    Quinn hesitated.


    "It is enough, Quinn," Slava growled. "Put it down. We must talk."


    The pistol clattered to the Errant Magpie''s glaringly white floor.


    "There is nothing to talk about," Chloe said. "You call me Princess, you call me Your Highness, and you will obey me as such. You will disarm yourselves, and then you will take Rudy to our quarters and render such medical assistance as you are capable of."


    "He''s dangerous, Your Hignness," Quinn said. "He''s the one who started the fight. Forget killing me and Slava. If he''d pushed the wrong buttons, he could have alerted the Reformer to your location!"


    "Rudy was wrong to act when he did," Chloe said, "but he and I arranged ahead of time for him to seize this ship at the first sign of trouble. After all, as is now painfully clear, we were dealing with gangsters. The fault is as much mine as his, and even more your lord''s. Had Stephan told us the truth from the outset, we could have worked this out without violence."


    Chloe''s tone seemed to freeze the Kyrillos men in place. Slowly, the two who were still armed unbelted their guns and lowered them to the floor. Slava took a half step toward Rudy, looked to Chloe.


    She nodded.


    She allowed herself to turn as the ursid approached Rudy.


    He flashed her what was probably meant as a grin, but looked more like a grimace. He''d stumbled into a console and sprawled on the floor, and she could see cracks in his flight suit where its nanomachine fabric had hardened into ablative armor. From his expression, she figured he had cracks inside, too. The suit prevented the slug from penetrating his body, but it could only do so much to disperse the kinetic energy.


    But he was manifestly, unambiguously, wonderfully alive.


    Chloe fought back her cry of relief. She could not afford even the slightest show of weakness in front of the Kyrillos men ¨C not if she wanted Rudy to remain alive.


    "Can you move?" she asked, her voice still unnaturally calm.


    He nodded, and winced. "Not and like it, but yeah."


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    "How bad is it?"


    "Broken collarbone, suit says. Couple of cracked ribs. Had worse. Hurts to talk."


    Chloe nodded. "Slava, please help Rudy to our quarters."


    "Highness." The ursid bent to obey.


    Rudy pushed him away. "Said I''ve had worse.¡± He braced his legs and uncurled himself, carefully avoiding supporting himself with his hands. "I''ll make it."


    "You need to lie down and either get medical nanopaste on your chest or let your suit work if it has that functionality." Chloe hated not being able to sound as concerned as she felt, but if she let go of the illusion of control, she didn''t think she could get it back.


    "Works for me." He took a few steps toward the door, hesitated.


    Chloe swept to his side and, gently as she could, hooked one of his arms over her shoulder. "I''ll help you."


    Slava''s shadow fell over them. "Highness, we still have troubles. It is not wise for you to leave."


    Chloe looked up at the ursid. She half-allowed and half-forced her smile, her inclination to trust hybrids and her shock and fury at the Kyrillos men''s actions combining into an expression she hoped looked imperious. "I leave the escape in your capable hands, Commander."


    "Highness." He bowed, fist pressed to his chest. "We do our best."


    "Then the Reformer is as good as foiled," Chloe said.


    The ursid bowed deeper.


    Chloe acknowledged the bow with a nod and stepped backwards, easing Rudy through the bridge doors.


    She didn''t dare speak or relax until she and Rudy were down the hall and into the quarters they''d shared. Until the door slid shut and she eased him off her shoulder and onto the bed. Until, finally, she could sink onto the couch and bury her face in her hands and breathe.


    Rudy said, "Wow."


    Chloe spread her fingers enough to peer out at him. He''d propped himself up on his elbows; but for the cracks on his suit, she''d never have guessed he was hurt.


    "I mean, damn ¨C I thought your Petra Jaric was a good performance, but that was something else." He gave her a thumbs-up.


    "You were faking," Chloe said flatly.


    Rudy shrugged. "Sort of. I''ll have a bruise the size of a dinner plate, but nothing a little tender love and care ¨C I mean, a little medical nanopaste ¨C won''t fix up. It takes more than a candy-ass pistol like that to punch through this gear. This is Marchess Threelete series nanofiber, so cutting edge the Feds can''t even get it on the open market. Works like a dream."


    "Why didn''t you tell me?"


    "Well, this is the first time you''ve wanted to get me into bed¡­"


    Chloe slumped back on the coach and closed her eyes. "Be serious, Rudy. Please?"


    "What''s wrong, Clo? You were great up there! Seems I didn''t do half bad, either, so barring any intervention from our pal Marcel, we''re good to go."


    She heard him stand and sprint to her side. She felt his hands closing around hers, and realized the latter had been shaking.


    He whispered, "Chloe?"


    "Great? I don''t feel ''great,''" Chloe said. "Don''t want to be ''great.'' It''s all too big for me ¨C or maybe I''m scared it''s not too big, maybe I am ¨C"


    Rudy shushed her. His hand slid along her arm and up to cup her chin.


    She opened her eyes.


    His electric blue eyes twinkled inches from her face. "You know what you need, Clo?"


    Chloe shook her head. "Rudy, please don''t. No kidding around. Please. Not right now."


    "You need," he said, "to calm down and take a deep breath. Maybe not in that order."


    "Oh." She smiled wanly. "Guess I kind of jumped the gun, huh?"


    He chuckled. "Tell you the truth, I was going to crack a joke if you hadn''t asked so nicely. So... not really."


    "Heh." Chloe reached up to remove the hand on her chin. Her fingers didn''t seem to want to obey, because they just lay over Rudy''s.


    She gulped.


    Rudy cocked his head.


    Chloe opened her mouth to tell him he was too close. She couldn''t find the words.


    He leaned forward.


    Chloe wrapped her other arm around his neck.


    And the Errant Magpie shuddered sideways, throwing both of them to the floor.

 Chapter 36: Fire Support

    Chapter 36: Fire Support


    Rudy winced as his back impacted the Magpie''s hard floor for the second time in ten minutes, again when Chloe landed atop him. He eased her aside and rolled to his feet just as another tremor rocked the transport.


    Chloe looked around frantically. "What in the world?"


    "Sounds like Stephan''s goons didn''t live up to your expectations." Rudy sprinted across the rocking deck to the screen on the far wall. A touch of his palm brought up the view from outside.


    It wasn''t pretty.


    The Black Rook, shedding silver and no longer glowing like a wannabe Imperial, smashed through a pair of line mecha and into the battlecruiser''s hull. One of the aristocratic mecha''s arms ended at the wrist. One of its thruster-wings vented fuel from a severed tip. The Divine Auric Drake and two smaller Wyverns swept down after it, backlit by the vast searchlights of the Reformer as it pressed weirdly through the gravitic distortion of the larger capital ship''s shields.


    "I take it back," Rudy said.


    Chloe joined him at the window.


    "Stephan''s the one who isn''t living up to expectations,¡± Rudy continued. ¡°Slava must''ve made a run for it because his boss is getting his ass kicked."


    "We have to ¨C" Chloe bit her lip.


    "What? Help him?"


    "Stephan is risking his life for us. For me, anyway."


    "Bully for him," Rudy said. "For once, though, he has the right idea. Namely, that we need to get the hell out of here. We''re already taking fire from the Reformer, as seen by our unfortunately-timed trip to the deck."


    Chloe looked away. Either she didn''t want to concede the point, or thinking about them almost kissing clammed her up.


    Rudy suppressed a sigh. When it wasn''t her spacer morality or his acting like an asshole, the universe just had to step in and throw a wrench in the proceedings, didn''t it? If he''d been a religious guy, he''d have had to question the beneficence of the Almighty Principle.


    As though to emphasize his doubts, the Errant Magpie shuddered again. The Reformer''s secondary guns tracked the transport, spitting shells bigger than the mecha fighting outside. The Magpie''s shields couldn''t create a gravitic distortion big enough to throw those anti-capital-ship weapons off course.


    "Not too concerned about collateral damage, are they?" Rudy muttered.


    "Why would they be? Me being with Stephan raises the stakes. They can''t let somebody they think is an Imperial end up with the aristocracy."


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    "Point." Rudy had always hated watching others fight. With his and Chloe''s lives on the line, he found new reserves of loathing. "I wish those guys up top would hurry. At this rate, I''m gonna get so sick of sitting here and watching things play out, I''ll hop in a mecha and save Stephan''s worthless ass."


    Said ass certainly looked in need of saving. The Black Rook dashed one Wyvern against the battlecruiser hull with straight telekinesis. No light show now that he was fighting for his life, apparently. The Divine Auric Drake effortlessly rolled around the wave of invisible force, his remaining wingman close behind him.


    Avalon''s polearm shot out. Stephan turned the blow less than a meter from his cockpit, shearing off part of his mecha''s shoulder and leaving a sparking line scored in the battlecruiser''s hull.


    Drake and Wyvern hurtled back from what had to be some kind of telekinetic shield, but while the smaller mecha struggled to correct its momentum, Avalon recovered almost instantly and surged back in.


    Rudy whistled. "The hell''d he learn to fight like that?"


    "He seemed very good at the Wellach Cup," Chloe said. "He almost beat you, right?"


    "Yeah, but this is just over the top. Hell, at this rate, he''s gonna practically solo a nob. I''ve never seen Marcel pull off moves like this."


    "Maybe he''s never had to."


    Rudy shot her a glare. She ignored it.


    The Black Rook seemed just as surprised as the Crimson Phoenix. He flew backwards across the battlecruiser''s hull, dodging lightning thrusts from the Divine Auric Drake, weaving between the weapon and sensor mounts protruding from the dead vessel.


    One of those mounts exploded, raining shrapnel. Stephan rolled away. Avalon plowed through, batting aside debris almost casually.


    Chloe gasped. "Now what?"


    "The Reformer is sitting inside the edge of the battlecruiser¡¯s shield bubble. Half its guns can fire through it," Rudy said. "Marcel must have called in fire support."


    The two mecha circled. Against the gigantic backdrop of the battlecruiser, they looked like two armored men facing off. The other Feds backed off, apparently less confident than their leader in their ability to dodge the Reformer''s fire. Or maybe less confident the destroyer would hold its fire on their account.


    The Black Rook stretched out a palm. The Divine Auric Drake tried to dodge, but instead of blasting Avalon, Stephan pulled him forward. The once-again-black mecha''s other arm shot forward to meet the gold with the telekinetic blast Avalon must have expected from the first gesture.


    Then both disappeared into a cloud of swift-dying fire and cascading metal.


    Chloe glanced at Rudy, her eyes wide with confusion.


    For a few seconds, he could only return the same look.


    Even with his mechaneering experience, it took until another explosion rocked the battlecruiser before he understood what he''d just seen.


    The Reformer had found the range to the mecha dueling beneath it. Every one of its shells massed more than the Divine Auric Drake and the Black Rook combined and slammed into the battlecruiser''s composite armor with more acceleration than the best inertial dampener in the galaxy could negate. With its attacker inside its shields, even the battlecruiser itself couldn''t survive that kind of pounding.


    Two mecha on its surface sure as hell couldn''t.


    Had Marcel Avalon actually killed Stephan Kyrillos?


    Had he died trying?


    Or both?


    Rudy leaned toward the screen, fists balled. He didn''t know who to root for, or whether he should hope both men dead, but he sure as hell wanted to know what had happened.


    Despite the violence of the impact it hurtled from, the debris moved painfully slowly. The last inflamed battlecruiser atmosphere burned away, the artificial asteroid field of shattered armor parted. Something metallic moved under its own power within the cloud.


    Then the scene collapsed as the Errant Magpie''s compression tunnel warped the light into unintelligible patterns.

 Chapter 37: Compression

    Chapter 37: Compression


    Rudy shouted, "Chloe!"


    Her eyes flew open. For a second, she saw Rudy''s face contorted with ¨C what? Agony? Terror? Rage? Why couldn''t she tell?


    But the face centimeters from hers was only flush with concern, reflected the dim light of the suite.


    "R-Rudy?¡± Her pounding heart began to slow. She blinked. The awful double vision of Rudy faded. The vision she wanted to see remained. ¡°You''re okay?"


    "You know me, I''m always okay." Rudy flashed a brief, almost automatic grin, but it couldn''t hide the worry lines surrounding his electric blue eyes. "What about you? What the hell happened?"


    "What was I doing?"


    "You were screaming, kiddo," Rudy said. "I heard you across the hall. If I didn¡¯t expect them to have us both under all kinds of undocumented surveillance, I¡¯d say it was a wonder your buds in the Kronistine Syndicate weren''t piling in here thinking I tried to murder you."


    That loud? "I had a nightmare." Saying it let her gulp down a breath. Only a nightmare. "We¡¯re still in the compression tunnel?"


    He nodded. "Hell of a trip."


    Longer than any Chloe remembered in her years aboard the Mother Goose. Just how far out was Stephan¡¯s estate? Far enough to survive a galaxy that had turned against its master, she supposed.


    "Folks say staying in one too long can mess with your head," Chloe said. "Maybe that¡¯s why I freaked out."


    Sure. A side effect of too long in a compression tunnel. Not because of the horrors she¡¯d seen in the battlecruiser. Not because her parents had been kidnapped because of her, Rudy¡¯s company attacked because of her, Stephan, perhaps, killed because of her.


    Rudy¡¯s raised eyebrow suggested he didn¡¯t buy her explanation, either. "Because of the tunnel, huh? Must''ve been one hell of a bad dream."


    Chloe tried to remember the details, regretted it.


    She recalled just enough to know she didn''t want to know the rest. Scenes from the battlecruiser. A broken world, twisted bodies, but in her dream, the screaming faces belonged to people she knew. Her parents. The Mother Goose¡¯s old crew. Spacers she¡¯d met. The Kronistine men. Admiral Avalon. Stephan.


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    And, over and over again, Rudy.


    Shuddering, she tried to pull away from him and realized for the first time she was already huddled against the wall where it butted against the reactive gel bed of Stephan''s vacated suite.


    Rudy gripped her shoulders and tried to force her to meet his eyes. "Clo?"


    "I''m fine, Rudy," she whispered. "You should leave now."


    "The hell I should. You''re about as ''fine'' as an Epee with no coolant."


    "I said you should leave," Chloe snapped. She pushed him away and scrambled to her feet, sinking almost to her ankles in the yielding gel. Where did Rudy get off, barging into her suite that way? And climbing onto the bed while she slept!


    He let her shove him off the bed. He rolled to his feet at the end of the motion, arms crossed.


    "Go!" Chloe pointed a shaking finger at the door. "Get away from me!"


    "No."


    Chloe''s fists clenched. She started to snarl another retort.


    Instead, she sank back to the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She pressed her face against her legs and shut her eyes. She felt Rudy''s hand on her shoulder and leaned into him. She fought to keep from crying, though she wasn''t sure, as the dream faded into increasingly obscure snippets, who she wanted to cry for.


    She forced down a deep breath, set her jaw, looked up.


    Rudy frowned down at her. "Feeling better?"


    Chloe shook her head.


    "Well," he said, "at least you''re honest." He winked.


    A chuckle fought its way from her lips.


    "You better watch it," she said. "Your humor is contagious."


    "An epidemic," he agreed solemnly.


    "Thanks, Rudy," Chloe said. "I do feel better now."


    "Damn straight. I''d hate to waste all this talent." In the dim light, she almost couldn''t see how strained his grin was. Chloe was glad her memory of the nightmare continued to fade. She must have sounded even worse than she felt.


    Rudy squeezed her shoulder. "No more bad dreams, you hear?"


    "Principle willing!"


    "You want me to stick around and make sure? I double as a dream catcher, you know."


    "Y¨C" Chloe, remembering at the last minute they were huddled together on a bed, bit back an unthinking ''yes.'' "I mean, you... better not. We took separate quarters and all."


    For a wonder, he didn''t push it. He patted her shoulder and uncoiled himself, hopping back to the floor. "If you need anything, Clo..."


    "I''ll call you," she promised.


    And she would, and he would answer ¨C


    Or, the echo of a dream whispered in the back of her mind, he would die trying.

 Chapter 38: Captains of Industry

    Chapter 38: Captains of Industry


    "Ladies and gentlemen," Otto Abeir Algreil said, spreading his arms to encompass the long oval table before him, "welcome to Algreil Prime."


    Jack, sitting behind and to the side of his once-and-current boss, followed the sweep of Otto''s arm. A who''s who of Oligarchs presumably "sat" at the table, but their holograms had no distinguishing features. Plausible deniability, in case the Feds won and won fast.


    Only Jack, another Algreil man at Otto''s back, and a trio of Marchess ¨C or was it Marchess-Algreil? ¨C representatives actually attended in the flesh. Alarie Wein Marchess-Algreil, seated at the far end of the table, was the only physically present ''lady'' Otto could have been referring to, and she practically disappeared into her throne-like seat. Her two retainers, in Algreil colors but from the protective way they clustered around Alarie obviously still Marchess men at heart, only served to make her look smaller and sicklier by comparison. Beyond the table, the room was uncomfortably dark.


    The holograms, and the Marchesses, fixed their gaze on Otto.


    "I''m sure you all know by now why you''ve been called here," Otto said.


    A murmur of agreements. The assembled Oligarchs sounded nervous to Jack, though it was hard to tell through the programs they used to scramble their identities.


    "You''ve all familiarized yourselves with the material I provided?"


    "We are fully prepared to judge this matter, Algreil," one of the holograms said. Jack found it hard to even figure out which one was speaking, though Otto seemed to follow their conversation easily. "The question is, are you prepared to hear our judgment?"


    Jack didn''t like the sound of that. He glanced at Otto.


    The Oligarch''s cocky grin hadn''t wavered. He said, "Let''s hear it."


    Another hologram answered him. "It is the opinion of this council that you, Otto Abeir Algreil, provoked a confrontation with the Federal Navy destroyer Reformer, leading to the destruction of your assets in the Wellach system and the heightened tensions between ourselves and the Federal Senate. Furthermore, we believe this provocation was deliberate and that you intend to use the resulting conflict to push for open war between the Oligarchy and the Senate."


    "All true," Otto said.


    Jack stared.


    Since none of the assembled oligarchs responded immediately, Jack figured he wasn''t the only one who couldn''t believe the admission. Not that Jack put the actions past Otto ¨C he''d been plenty frank about his plans. No, what blew Jack away was that his boss would come out and say it to his colleagues.


    "How can you possibly justify this?" one of said colleagues demanded. "How can you expect this council to sit here and listen to you bald-faced admit you''re trying to provoke another Civil War?"


    Both good questions, thought Jack.


    "Was that ever in question?" Otto asked. "If it was, gentlemen, you have my apologies. Let me break it down for you: I am openly calling for us to fight the Federal Senate."


    "You can''t be serious!"


    Otto cocked an eyebrow. "Of course I''m serious. You''re the jokes. What did you think the purpose of assembling the Captains of Industry was? Did you think we were a Principle-damned social club? I formed this council following the dismantling and nationalization of Kalder-Black specifically to organize resistance to the Senate''s overreach. Armed, military resistance."


    "But the Senate is not overreaching this time," one of the oligarchs countered. "You opened fire on their ship!"


    "After Admiral Avalon violated the Senate''s own search-and-seizure laws and the Treaty of Etemenos, which grants our arcologies independent operation. Maybe Avalon had a warrant, but I sure as hell never saw it. And he''s one of them usually going on about how sacred their ''law'' is!" Otto snorted. "Legally speaking, I acted overzealously, but not outside my rights."


    "You can''t expect that to fly with President Ferrill. Even if her rhetoric is just that, she''d never be imprudent enough to send Avalon out without legal authority."


    "I don''t expect it to ''fly,''" Otto said. "That''s my point. The Senate''s signed, notarized promises aren''t worth the paper they''re printed on."


    "Do you deny that you set up the situation to provoke the Reformer? You spread rumors you had an Heir! How else could Avalon have responded?"


    "I was under the impression, gentlemen, that an Heir to the Astroykos dynasty, should such a person exist, would be just another citizen. After all, we''re all equal under the law, right?"


    Except for hybrids, Jack thought ¨C and thought of Ellie. Not that the ''law'' seemed to have done Chloe a damn bit of good, even though she was acknowledged as human by it.


    One of the oligarchs sputtered, "You can''t extend that kind of sentiment to a noble ¨C an Imperial, for Principle''s sake!"


    "And why not?" Otto asked. "It is what the law says."


    "Because people like that are too dangerous," the hologram''s owner said. "Letting them walk around free is just asking for trouble. Measures have to be taken. Preemptive measures! Surely this council should support the Senate in controlling the old aristocracy!"


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    "Chloe''s not dangerous to anybody," Jack snapped. He leaned forward and slammed his palm on the dark wood of the table. "She wouldn''t hurt a fly!"


    Only Alarie, seated at the far end of the table, even looked at him.


    Otto waved him back.


    Reluctantly, realizing he probably shouldn''t have said anything, Jack obeyed.


    "Too dangerous," Otto said. He sounded like he was trying the words out. He repeated them, cocked his head. Sighed. "Gentlemen, Colonel Hughes is right. The alleged Heir the Federal Senate was looking for was living peacefully as a spacer salvage worker prior to becoming the target of an Animus Hunter. She made no attempt to reclaim the throne the Senate believes to be hers, or even to employ the powers they believe she has."


    ¡°Are you saying she doesn''t ¨C¡±


    "I''m saying," Otto continued, "that she didn''t provoke a damn thing."


    "Still, she was dangerous." The oligarch sounded sullen. He had to know Otto was leading him into some kind of trap, but if he didn''t try to push through, he''d lose even more face than if his fellow oligarch made a fool of him. Better to be decisive than right, right? "If she had decided to attempt something, she would have been a serious problem."


    "And you wouldn''t?" Otto''s eyebrow quirked up again.


    "I ¨C Huh?"


    "You wouldn''t be a serious problem if you ''tried something?'' I wouldn''t be? Any of us wouldn''t be?"


    "Enough, Algreil," a second hologram said. "You''ve made your point."


    "Wrong," Otto said. "The Senate, and my illustrious colleague here, made it for me."


    The oligarch Otto had used to get the point across still didn''t seem to grasp it. "What are you trying to imply, Algreil?"


    "The Senate demonstrates its blatant willingness to ignore laws, treaties, and the very constitution it was based on. Why? Because the target is ''too dangerous.'' But who is truly ''too dangerous?'' The side that lost the Civil War? Or the side that was already winning it before the Feds stepped in to take the credit?"


    "We couldn''t have beaten the Emperor," the second hologram said.


    "Perhaps. But then again, we didn''t try, either. That was the Senate''s cause. Last I checked, they were the ones who dragged the imperials into the Civil War. We were fighting to keep local lords'' noses out of our business, not to change the government on Etemenos."


    "You think the Senate considers us a threat?"


    "What do you think Morgan Kalder-Black thinks?"


    "That was an isolated incident ¨C"


    "What do you think Chloe Hughes thinks?"


    "The alleged Heir? That has ¨C"


    "He has a point ¨C"


    "¨C cannot risk so much ¨C"


    "¨C this is intolerable, Algreil!"


    "We did not come here ¨C"


    "¨C but if we could ¨C"


    "Gentlemen!" Otto stood and leaned over the table.


    The oligarchs immediately fell silent.


    "We are a danger to the Senate," Otto said. "We broadcast their proclamations. We ship their food. We build their mecha. We do a thousand things they need, a thousand things they¡¯d have to rebuild from scratch if we stopped. Rhetta Ferrill knows all this better than most of you seem to. And if we continue squabbling like this, like the nobs did, we''ll lose like the nobs did."


    "Even if we stand united, Algreil ¨C which, I hasten to add, we do not intend to do ¨C we would lose. Those mecha are already built. The Federal Navy has grown too expansive, the Animus Hunters are too powerful, and in any case we could never hope to break through Etemenos''s defenses."


    Otto shrugged. "You might be right. For all our power, that''s a tall order."


    "If we can''t win, what''s the point in fighting? We have no reason to think the Senate won''t consider you an isolated threat and respond accordingly. Why should we sacrifice ourselves for a competitor''s sake?"


    ''Cause if you think Otto''s telling the truth, Jack thought, you''ll be next on the chopping block. Why not fight when you at least have a chance?


    He expected Otto to say much the same.


    Instead, Otto said, "Because, gentlemen, this competitor has access to the power of the Heir to the Astroykos Dynasty."


    "What?" It took everything in Jack not to join in the chorus. Not many of the holograms managed it. Alarie didn''t, either, and since he could actually see her face, her shock would have been obvious even if she had kept her mouth shut.


    "Colonel Hughes," Otto said, motioning to Jack, "is the adoptive father of the young woman who is, as the Federal Senate correctly deduced, the heir to the throne. He is also, as many of you are no doubt aware, a member of my Devil Ray squadron."


    "A former member," a nearby hologram said. "I was given to understand that the falling-out was rather unpleasant."


    "You were given to understand that, eh?" Otto grinned at the image of the man.


    Jack''s stomach lurched. He suddenly realized the bluff Otto was trying to run. No way in hell would the other Oligarchs buy it, though, not that he could see. Not even from one of their own.


    Would they?


    "Do you mean to say, Mr. Algreil, that you planned for Colonel Hughes to find and adopt the heir?"


    "Of course not," Otto said. "That would be absurd."


    Jack suppressed a sigh of relief. Partly because he didn''t think the Captains of Industry would buy such a, as Otto said, absurd lie, partly because Jack had half convinced himself that Otto had planned it all.


    "I released Colonel Hughes from official service so he could find the Empress and/or her erinyes," Otto said. "That she was dead and her daughter wasn''t proved an unexpected bonus. Far better to raise a tame Imperial than to try to persuade one to help us."


    "If that were the case, why would you have left her on a salvage ship bouncing around the periphery instead of bringing her to Algreil Prime?"


    "If she''d been raised here," Otto countered, "who here wouldn''t know it? Who wouldn''t at least suspect? If all of us knew it, do you really believe the Feds wouldn''t? If they had, do you think Algreil Aerospace wouldn''t have had its own ''isolated incident?''"


    "But the danger ¨C"


    "Was nonexistent. I had my best officer on the job." Otto clapped Jack on the shoulder. Jack was sure his grin looked pretty damn forced. He hoped the other oligarchs couldn''t see it clearly. "Raising the Heir exactly as we would want. Training her exactly as we would want."


    The assembled oligarchs stared. At least, Jack figured they did, because they didn''t say anything and all their holographic avatars were angled at him and Otto.


    Otto sat back down and leaned on the arm of his chair, smirking. "Any more questions, gentlemen?"


    If Jack hadn''t figured running his mouth was liable to shoot down Otto''s house of cards ¨C and Jack''s own chances of saving Ellie and Chloe ¨C he''d have had plenty.


    The Captains of Industry did not.

 Chapter 39: Etemenos

    Chapter 39: Etemenos


    Ellie stared at the screens displaying the view outside the Reformer. Her eyes were wide, her mouth parted, her attention fixed on the silvery vista that appeared to erupt beyond the destroyer¡¯s hull.


    She knew she should look upon the gleaming expanse with horror or hate.


    She felt nothing but awe.


    Etemenos!


    Invisible from outside its world-shields, it unfolded before her eyes like a dream as the Reformer charted its course through the bubble of gravitic distortion.


    The capital-world of the Federated Stars was the size of a small gas giant, far larger than any habitable planet, even more so than any other product of human artifice. Concentric rings of superdense metals whirled in a stately dance around its core, a giant astrolabe that was practically a system unto itself. Each of the seven rings could have docked thousands of ships as big as a battlecruiser, to say nothing of the smaller, privately-owned stations on different axes. Each glowed with warning lights and running lights and purely decorative lights, creating the illusion of internal stars offset by the weirdly distorted view of the actual stars through its shields. Some bore the glowing insignia of Oligarchical enclaves, others the Ouroboros of the government, others a dizzying mix of symbols from private holders and sub-Oligarchical companies.


    Ellie couldn¡¯t begin to imagine the resources the Astroykos Empire had expended to create the capital-world. Even with nanoassemblers, which she wasn''t sure they''d had, it would have taken the mass of a dozen planets. And since it rose from deep space, far enough from any star to allow vessels to emerge from compression tunnels just hours from its surface rather than days or weeks, all that mass had been transported across dozens of pentameters at least.


    Jack had always called Etemenos''s construction wasteful, and Ellie had never had reason to disagree.


    Now she did.


    The Reformer glided through a maze of shifting rings and space traffic. Perhaps because of its importance as the Federal Navy flagship, it only had to maneuver to avoid the former. Other ships, even bulk freighters many times the destroyer''s size, circled around it. Watching from her quarters, Ellie felt they were moving slowly, but she eventually realized the scale of Etemenos was playing tricks on her. The Reformer moved faster than it had in Wellach''s atmosphere, but it still took the better part of an hour to reach the immense silver sphere that was Etemenos''s core.


    At last, the ship settled into a concave cone that served as one of the core''s docking bays. Carefully tuned magnetic fields formed much of the planet-sized sphere''s outer structure, showing off the arena where the Etemenos Cup tournament was held and, at the heart of that, a second, smaller metal sphere where the emperors had once held court and the Senate now did.


    I wish Jack could see this, Ellie thought. He would at least appreciate the outer layer of Etemenos''s core. Thinking about what went on at its heart, Ellie at last recovered her dislike of the place.


    Her thoughts were interrupted by the faint hiss of the door to her quarters.


    She nearly jumped off the bed. She hadn''t seen a human being since being escorted from the bridge after Avalon''s battle with the Black Rook two weeks before. She felt sure she''d have died of thirst but for the dispensary in her quarters.


    She didn''t exactly see a human being now, only the armor of a pair of Federal marines, looking more like miniature mecha than men. One of them pointed to her, then jerked a thumb toward the door.


    Ellie offered no protest as they led her through the ship''s seemingly endless corridors. She wondered if Avalon had finally deigned to remember she existed, or if some Federal bureaucrat had.


    She wondered for the thousandth time if Avalon was even still alive.


    It seemed impossible the admiral would have left her completely unattended for weeks after all but waiting on her hand and foot. Whatever his reasons, he''d always treated her like a guest rather than a prisoner.


    On the other hand, if he were dead, why would his first officer have left Ellie in her gilded cage instead of putting her in a literal one? Or, for that matter, dumping her out the airlock like the trash most of the Reformer''s crew so obviously considered her? Had he simply forgotten her after having her hustled back to her quarters? She couldn''t rule out the possibility.


    For the thousandth time, she put her questions out of her mind. She gained nothing from dwelling on them, and in any case her answers probably lay wherever the marines were taking her.


    That proved to be to an airlock big enough to have swallowed up mecha like the Goslings, if not the entire Mother Goose. Smooth and silent, it slid open on a waiting room hardly bigger than the airlock. "Sit," one of the marines said. Without waiting for a response, they turned on their heels and marched back through the closing airlock.


    Ellie took in her new surroundings. There were no facilities or decorations, just four long, low couches of reactive gel with circular tables at each end. It seemed oddly plain compared to her image of the capital world-city. Because it was a military facility? In that case, she would have expected screens ready to display strategic updates. Two doors led off from the room. She didn''t bother to check them, since even if they weren''t locked, she had no idea how to escape or what she would be escaping to. After a quick pace around the room''s outskirts, she sighed, stretched and seated herself on one of the couches to wait.


    The next several minutes seemed to stretch into hours. Finally, the airlock slid open again. This time, enough marines and navy officers piled out to nearly fill the room, surrounding ¨C


    ¨C a sleek, hovering medical chair, in which sat Second Admiral Marcel Avalon.


    Ellie couldn''t help but gasp.


    The medical chair was a mobile version of a typical reactive gel chair, but its covering of nanopaste ''fabric'' was more like that of a military-grade flight suit. It extended over Avalon''s entire body, replacing his uniform, perhaps having merged with it when the suit''s own medical subroutines proved insufficient, and a pseudopod-like extension covered the left side of his face. From the way he sat, Ellie suspected at least his left arm and both legs were injured to the point of uselessness.


    Nonetheless, he managed to smile with the visible half of his face. "Ellie."


    "Admiral!" Instinctively, she tried to rush to his side and was brought up short by the barrel of a marine''s wrist-mounted gun.


    "Let her pass," Avalon said. His voice sounded weak and scratchy, but if he''d suffered any serious damage to his lungs or vocal cords, it had already been repaired. Understandably, since soft tissue healed much faster than bone.


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    The marine lowered his weapon.


    By then, Ellie had enough of her wits about her to remember that this man remained her enemy. She approached his medical chair, but didn''t rush to comfort him as she''d been about to. "Are you..." Of course he wasn''t alright! She swallowed that clich¨¦ and instead said, "I¡¯m glad you''re alive."


    "And I as well," he said, "although I suspect if Limiters were not sealing off my pain receptors, I might feel differently."


    Ellie wasn''t sure if she was supposed to laugh at that; from the smattering of nervous chuckles from Avalon''s subordinates, she gathered she wasn''t the only one.


    "Admiral," one of those subordinates said, "perhaps we should inform President Ferrill that you need more time to recover ¨C"


    "I have been asleep overlong already, Captain Little," Avalon snapped. Ellie wondered if the harshness in his tone was from his injuries, or if this was the continuation of an argument she''d missed. "I will give my own report."


    "Sir," Little said stiffly, saluting and stepping back.


    Definitely the continuation of an argument.


    One, inevitably, Avalon''s subordinate had lost.


    "I¡¯ll, um, see that the ship is moved to drydock, sir," Little said.


    Avalon tried to nod. The nanopaste extending up his neck restrained him too much, so he was forced to settle for a stiff "Very good, Captain."


    Most of the officers returned to the Reformer with Little. The rest, and half the marines, exited through one of the room''s doors, leaving Ellie and Avalon with the remaining marines.


    "The President will want to meet with me in private, gentlemen," the admiral told the latter, "so you may consider yourselves on early leave."


    Ellie could imagine the frown beneath the marine commander''s expressionless helmet. "But Admiral ¨C"


    "Surely you don¡¯t think I''m in any danger here?"


    "The prisoner ¨C"


    "She is acting as my assistant," Avalon said. News to Ellie. "And she is not a ''prisoner,'' she is a ''guest.''"


    The marines hesitated, but, to a man, headed for the doors. Avalon''s orders were absolute.


    When the door slid shut behind them, Ellie said, "They¡¯re right, you know."


    Avalon raised his visible eyebrow.


    "In your condition, I could kill you. Or take you hostage and try to get away."


    "A prisoner might do so," Avalon allowed.


    "I am a prisoner," Ellie snapped. "You probably killed my husband, you certainly tried to kill my daughter, though thank the Principle that was unsuccessful, I¡¯ve been locked in that damned room for weeks. What would you call it?"


    Avalon''s visible eye widened. "Tried to kill your daughter?"


    "What do you call firing a destroyer¡¯s main guns at a transport you thought she was aboard?"


    "I never authorized any such action!" Avalon''s voice broke, and he coughed harshly. "Dammit. If that¡¯s the case... You¡¯re sure the ship escaped undamaged?"


    "Yes," Ellie said. "Your crew apparently weren¡¯t so pleased to hear of Chloe''s escape. When I was escorted from the bridge, they were lamenting their misses."


    Avalon breathed a ragged sigh of relief. "Heads will roll for that ¨C"


    "Stop lying to me," Ellie said. She slumped onto one of the couches and buried her face in her hands. "Even if you don¡¯t, the Senate wants Chloe dead."


    "That isn¡¯t true," Avalon said. "I swear it. President Ferrill will swear it, too, when we see her."


    "We?" Ellie looked up. "I thought you planned on a private meeting."


    "I wanted to talk to you," Avalon said. "And to have the President talk to you. We must lay to rest these baseless fears. Baseless? Perhaps not ¨C not if my own men violate their orders so egregiously." Something seemed to occur to Avalon, and his frown deepened. His eyes flicked to the wall behind which the Reformer loomed.


    "What¡¯s wrong?"


    "It¡¯s nothing," he said. Too quickly.


    He''s lying, Ellie thought. Possibly to himself.


    Trouble was, she couldn''t begin to guess what he was lying about. The Senate¡¯s commitment to Chloe¡¯s safety? Or something to do with the fight at the battlecruiser?


    She tried to remember the details of the battle. Avalon had coordinated it from his mecha until he got caught up in his dogfight with Stephan Kyrillos. If he¡¯d kept trying to run a fleet action and fight a duel, he¡¯d have surely been killed, as, it seemed, he almost had been. The Reformer hadn''t fired on the Kyrillos transport until after the dogfight began in earnest.


    Did that mean Avalon meant what he said about keeping Chloe safe?


    Or did it mean they hadn¡¯t had a shot at the transport until he was out of contact?


    For that matter, the Reformer hadn¡¯t started firing at the Black Rook until the dogfight began. Had Avalon ordered that? Too many voices shouted through her memories. The Reformer''s bridge was a loud place to be in a fight, especially for a felid.


    "How were you hurt?" Ellie asked.


    "Kyrillos struck me with a telekinetic blast," Avalon said. "Crushed most of my cockpit, but, fortunately, only most."


    And the blast from the Reformer that was the last I saw of you? Ellie didn''t say what she was thinking, mostly because from Avalon''s troubled expression, he''d already considered the possibility that his injuries were neither Stephan Kyrillos''s doing nor an accident.


    Avalon was, after all, the one who''d told her of the competing factions in the Federal Senate. He might want to believe he¡¯d left them behind when he left Etemenos, but had he? Could he?


    Ellie thought of Avalon¡¯s crew. Of their loyalty to him, yes, but also of their cruelty to her. If Avalon wasn''t lying about his and President Rhetta Ferrill''s position, surely such men would want to thwart her.


    Captain Little, the first officer? One of the battery controllers who guided the ship''s weapons? An individual gunner?


    It wasn''t hard for her to see one or all of them as a would-be assassin.


    If one of Avalon¡¯s men had wanted to assassinate him, though, why not do so when he was surely near death? Perhaps he was right about the cause of his injuries, perhaps the Reformer¡¯s medical staff weren''t in on the plot, or perhaps there had simply been no plausible way to deny responsibility once Avalon was brought aboard.


    She asked. "You''ve been unconscious all this time?"


    "You heard Captain Little. I should technically have waited for the sickbay to heal me completely before waking. Talking and moving around makes the process more difficult."


    "Then why are you talking? You don¡¯t owe me that, surely?"


    "I owe you this and more," Avalon said. "As you say, your husband is likely dead because I attacked the Algreil arcology on Wellach, and now I have endangering your daughter on my conscience."


    "You weren¡¯t the one who gave that order."


    "My men, my ship ¨C my responsibility." His right fist balled and rose as if to slam against the arm of the medical chair. It fell back, and he slumped.


    Ellie rose and went to his side. "You¡¯re right about owing more than you can give, Admiral," she said quietly, "but I still don¡¯t want you to give more than you have."


    "Thank you, Ellie," he said.


    "Are you going to rest now?"


    "I can¡¯t. Debts aside, I have my report to give. Will you escort me to the President¡¯s office? I am, as you can see, somewhat lacking in mobility."


    To the president of the Federal Senate. Ellie suppressed a gulp. As much as she hated the senate, the thought of meeting its head in person left her feeling weak-kneed. Despite Avalon¡¯s supposed lack of mobility, she knew his medical chair was self-propelled. She didn''t have to go.


    But Avalon had promised that President Ferrill would allay her fears about the Senate''s plans for Chloe.


    If anyone could convince her of that, if she could breathe easier knowing the greatest power in human space didn''t want her daughter dead...


    Even if it wasn¡¯t true, at least Ellie might be able to sleep at night.


    "Of course, Admiral," she said.

 Chapter 40: New Kyrillopolis

    Chapter 40: New Kyrillopolis


    Rudy watched a huge, dark space station, even bigger than the battlecruiser hulk but apparently just as abandoned, drift past as the Errant Magpie glided toward the surface of the planet.  He thought he recognized some of the devices protruding from the station.  He''d seen ones like them on orbital factories under Algreil Aerospace''s jurisdiction.


    This one didn''t seem to be turning raw material into military material, or anything else.  It lay dormant either from lack of scrap and unrefined ore to put in one end, or lack of men to crew whatever came out the other.


    Or to make me think they don''t have one or both, he thought.  He wasn''t sure how much he could trust the Kyrilloses, still less how much they trusted him.


    Of course, he wasn''t sure how much they should trust him, either.


    He glanced at Chloe.  She hadn''t woken him with any more screaming nightmares during their two-week trip, but she didn''t look good.  She hadn''t eaten as much as usual, and dark circles ringed her dark eyes.


    He reached over and squeezed her shoulder.  She looked up, as if from a daze, and smiled weakly.


    "Almost there," he said.


    "Yeah."


    ''There'' was the planet New Kyrillopolis, the estate-world Stephan Kyrillos''s family had retreated to after the Battle of Etemenos.  Rudy didn''t even know it by reputation.  The nobs didn''t interact much with the rest of human space since their retreat to its fringes.  From what he could see on the Magpie''s instruments, it looked like a fairly temperate, low-gravity world, maybe on the cold and dry side but well within the habitable range.  Oceans swept over most of its southern hemisphere, while their destination lay on a sprawling continent in the northern, green blending into the white of a large polar cap.  He didn''t see any lights glowing on the continent.  Considering that it was evening down there, it couldn''t be heavily populated.


    Maybe ''estate-world'' was literal and the whole planet was a nob''s idea of a country manor.


    He''d see soon enough.  The Magpie began its descent through New Kyrillopolis''s atmosphere.  Maybe not soon enough, Rudy amended.  He''d expected the sleek shuttle to burn downwards and pull up for a tight stop, the kind that would kill anyone without inertial dampeners to fight down the gee forces, but Tarkov instead guided it gently through the cloudless blue sky.


    Rudy saw why as they got closer to the ground.  The landing pad they were aiming for was ringed by huge conifers, the smallest easily fifty meters, the tallest twice that.


    "Wow," Chloe whispered, pressing against a nearby screen to peer at the trees.  "Those are huge!"


    "The trees grow tall here," Slava said, "because there is not so much gravity."


    "The pinecones must be hell," Rudy said.


    Chloe put a hand to her lips to stifle a laugh.  Mission accomplished.


    They slowly drifted down through the sea of trees until the Errant Magpie settled onto a broad concrete circle beside two transports of the same model.  Rudy could see people outside, but before he could check them out in more detail, Slava said, "We are expected.  Quinn, Tarkov, prepare the Magpie for storage.  Highness, Mr. Algreil, let us go, yes? "


    Chloe followed the ursid.  Rudy didn''t see much point in sticking around the ship unless he planned to steal it, and he wasn''t about to do that without her on board.


    They descended through the bowels of the Magpie and emerged from its main landing ramp rather than one of its personnel hatches, apparently to make their descent grander.  All it did for Rudy was make it longer, and he''d had enough of long trips for a while.


    At the end of the ramp stood their welcoming committee: twenty men-at-arms in sharp black-with-white-highlights dress uniforms, two other ursids, three canids and three felids among them.  They raised dress sabers in a crisp salute as Slava led the way from the Magpie''s hangar, then split to form two lines of ten, the shortest almost at the ramp, the tallest near the edge of the platform.


    The girl who swept between the lines could have been Chloe''s sister.


    "Your Highness," she cried, her slightly harsh, familiar accent and olive skin betraying her as Stephan''s sister.  She smiled like she was greeting a boon companion and rushed up to meet them in a flurry of black dress and white lace, rushing past Slava to clasp Chloe''s hands.  "It''s such a delight to meet you at last!"


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    "Um," said Chloe.


    "Lady Milissa," Slava said, bowing.


    "Welcome back, Captain," the girl ¨C Milissa Kyrillos, apparently ¨C acknowledged him with a faint nod.  When she turned to look his way, she hesitated, her eyes widening a bit as they lit on Rudy.  They were the same stratosphere blue as Chloe''s, a bit smaller and more tilted and set in a fuller face with a longer, more sloping nose.


    Milissa started to speak, stopped.  Her smile wavered.  She faltered again, then, biting her lip, turned back to Chloe.


    Rudy had seen that look often enough, though not lately.  Seen it on the faces of tournament fangirls who thronged outside his mecha bay at all the big events.


    Milissa confirmed his worst fears when she spoke again.  "You doubly grace us with your presence, Highness," she said, squeezing Chloe''s hands in hers, "by bringing so esteemed a mechaneer as the Crimson Phoenix with you."


    Chloe recovered enough from the unexpected welcome to try to smile as she asked, "You''re a fan of Rudy''s?"


    Milissa laughed.  "It should go without saying!"


    Chloe laughed along with her, weakly.


    "Now," Milissa continued, "let''s complete the set.  Where is my dear brother?"


    Chloe''s face paled even more than usual.  Rudy winced.


    "Stephan¡­"  Chloe fell to her knees and clasped Milissa''s hands tightly.  "Stephan''s¡­  Lady Milissa, I''m so sorry!"


    Milissa''s eyes widened.  She took a step back and might have slipped off the ramp if Chloe hadn''t been clinging to her.  "H-Highness, you, you shouldn''t ¨C"


    "He stayed behind to cover our escape from the Reformer," Chloe said.  "To ensure my escape.  He swore he''d follow, Lady Milissa, and I pray he did, but...  He put himself in danger for me and now you may have lost him and I''m so very, very sorry."


    She pressed her face to the noble girl''s gloved hands.


    Milissa knelt beside her.  "It''s all right, Highness," she said quietly.  "I''m sure Stephan will be fine."  Her voice almost stayed level, until she said her brother''s name.  She recovered quickly, smooth as silk.


    "You''ve brought yourself," she said, "which is what Stephan and I and everyone here want.  And you''ve brought a great pilot with you.  I''m sure if Stephan had needed help, he would have asked the Crimson Phoenix for it, and with the two of them fighting together, no force of worthless Feds could have stood against them."


    She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.  Doing a hell of a good job of it, too.  Of course, even if she was right about Rudy''s ability, he didn''t think the Black Rook would have trusted the Crimson Phoenix''s assistance.


    "Lady Milissa ¨C"


    "Please, Highness, call me Milissa," she said.  Her smile looked almost genuine to Rudy.  Either she was a hell of an actress, or she actually believed he and Stephan could take on the Reformer and win.  "Now, you shouldn''t kneel to me.  What would people think?"


    "Erm," Chloe said.  ¡°Right.¡±


    Rudy had to suppress a chuckle.  The only people whose thoughts seemed to trouble Chloe were her absent parents.''  The mores of high society weren''t exactly her forte.


    Once they were both standing, Milissa relinquished Chloe''s hands at last.  "Captain," she said, turning to Slava, "I suppose you''ll have to report to me until Stephan gets back."


    Not if, when.  Her confidence did either Stephan''s piloting skills or her gift for self-deception credit.


    "Of course, Lady Milissa.  I have a report prepared ¨C"


    "Later, Captain," Milissa said, waving him off.  "For the moment, Her Highness and the Crimson Phoenix must come to the estate and get settled in ¨C and eat!  You both must be bored out of your minds of spaceship food after such a trip.  We have a feast ready.  Only, Crimson Phoenix, I must apologize, I did not know to expect you, so I didn''t include a side of beer-battered fish.  I trust you''ll find the local ocean breeds very flavorful once we can lay a proper spread.  And Highness, we don''t know your favorite dish yet, but that will be fixed soon enough.  If you can forgive me?"


    Rudy and Chloe stared at her.


    Milissa bit her lip.  "You aren''t too upset, I hope?"


    "Of course not," Chloe said.  "You''ve already done so much!"


    "Your Highness is far too kind.  I couldn''t live with myself if I didn''t give you both proper welcome, especially with Stephan away."


    And now he was just ''away.''  Rudy wondered how often Milissa had had to rationalize her brother''s absences, his possible deaths.  He found her confidence infectious.  Except he wasn''t nearly as happy about the prospect of Stephan''s return as she seemed to be.


    "Milissa," he asked, "how did you know about the fish?"


    Slava growled at his dispensing with the honorific before Milissa''s name, but the lady herself looked pleased by it.  "As I told Her Highness, Crimson Phoenix, I''m a great fan of yours.  I''ve watched all your matches, you know."


    "Really?  You get those all the way out here?"


    "I have them specially delivered," Milissa said.  "My brother seems annoyed by it, but¡­"  She put a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle, then, glancing into the gap in the Magpie''s mecha bay where Stephan''s machine should have been, let hand and smile both drop.  "But I like them anyway," she finished mirthlessly.


    Chloe reached out and took her hand again.  "I''m sure he''ll be here soon," she said.  "He seemed very powerful."


    "Yes," Milissa said.  She took a deep breath and restored what seemed to be her customary smile.  "Now, there''s no point to our standing around moping!  Come, I''ll show both of you to the estate and get you settled in.  We mustn''t dally, you know.  With only twenty men, it''s best we reach the gates before dark."


    Chloe and Rudy chorused, "Huh?"


    "It is not just the trees that grow big here," Slava said, looking to the woods.


    "We don''t have to worry," Milissa said.  "Really, Highness, most of the large predators are scared off by the sound of so many people.  It''s only the bandersnatches we''d have to worry about, and it''s been a fruitful season, so they shouldn''t come out before evening."


    Neither Rudy nor Chloe had the stomach to ask what the bandersnatches were.

 Chapter 41: War Changes

    Chapter 41: War Changes


    The cannon bucked in Jack''s Stingray''s hands and pumped a round clean through an onrushing green mecha, coring out its engine. The machine''s momentum carried it into the Stingray. It bounced harmlessly away.


    "Surrender, dammit," he shouted, hoping the Feds were even bothering to receive over open channels. So far, he didn''t think he''d actually killed anybody in this fight, and if he could help it, he didn''t plan on starting.


    Jack had fought in the Civil War and done his share of killing in it. Hell, three months ago, he''d made damn sure some of the Reformer''s mechaneers died back on Wellach. Nonetheless, he liked to think of himself as a basically peaceable guy.


    Especially when he still wasn''t sure he was on the right side.


    "You''re outnumbered and outgunned," he said to whoever was listening, adding ''and hella outflown'' in his thoughts only ¨C if he said it, it was liable to piss the Feds off enough they''d keep fighting. "We won''t hurt you if you surrender, and if you keep going, you''re gonna get killed!"


    While he waited for a response, he fended off two more attacks almost casually. He could track and down the Fed regulars without breaking a sweat. His mecha and his still-rusty skills were just that much better.


    How the hell could the Federal Navy be reduced to this just fifteen years after the Civil War? With the nobs still kicking around on the periphery, no less?


    One of the Fed mechaneers soared up from below, firing wildly with his automatic cannon. Jack didn''t even have to dodge. If he had, he probably would have increased his chances of getting hit. He snapped off two shots, one into the green mecha''s shoulder, a second scraping down the front of its hull. It still tried to correct its aim, so Jack reluctantly lined up a third shot to go through its head and hull.


    "Sorry, buddy," he muttered, starting to squeeze the trigger.


    Abruptly, the Fed mecha released its gun and burned backwards. Since the gun had lost none of its momentum, it tumbled away from its wielder and eventually bounced off Jack''s leg armor.


    He lowered his cannon.


    "Attention rebel forces." Jack''s communications window displayed a haggard-looking Navy officer. He could have passed for a cadet if not for the captain''s stars adorning his green uniform. "This is the Federal Navy frigate Equanimity. Cease fire. We are powering down our shields and weapons. We... surrender."


    "Oligarchical forces," Jack corrected. "And we accept your surrender."


    "That''s... er, thank you," the young captain said.


    "Round ''em up, boys," Jack called to the three Devil Rays accompanying him. Two were on the ship''s hull, where they had already cut its shield generators from their moorings, while the third was acting as Jack''s wingman. "And radio the Venture. Looks like we''ve got ourselves another prize ship."


    Three grins answered his.


    Another prize ship, another squadron of Navy mecha. That made three so far, to go with the two star systems the Feds had tried to guard. Jack and his new subordinates had suffered only a single casualty, and both he and his mecha would recover.


    If the Feds had been smart, they would have stayed at the heart of the systems and made the Algreil Aerospace escort carrier Venture come to them. If they''d been smart, though, they wouldn''t have been so damn easy to beat. Somebody in the Etemenos military bureaucracy had one hell of a poor tactical doctrine.


    Maybe Otto was right. Maybe the Oligarchy could wrap up the Feds in a ''short, victorious war.'' Maybe the next time Jack saw Ellie and Chloe, it would be on a platform on Etemenos with a medal hanging from his neck, celebrating the new galactic order.


    Yeah.


    And maybe they hadn''t fought more than a skirmish and the Feds still had them outnumbered by a factor of ten galaxy-wide. To say nothing of the defenses of the capital world itself. Shields so powerful even the Imperials were supposedly not sure they could get through them and guns to match, powered by seven man-made suns and backed by a full fleet of the Federal Navy''s finest.


    Not to mention the Animus Hunter corps.


    Thinking about the strategic situation soured Jack''s mood as he and his men burned back to the Venture.


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    It was a miniature carrier of the type the Oligarchy had deployed in droves during the waning years of the Civil War, about three times the size of the Mother Goose and almost all mecha bays and cargo space. It had just enough room for twenty mecha and its bridge crew. Theoretically, it had room for twenty mechaneers, too, but from Jack''s recollection that was an exaggeration.


    He didn''t have to worry about space on the Venture now. It housed only eight Stingrays and a couple of bays worth of Mayfly scout drones converted into AI-controlled electronic warfare mines. The rest of the space doubled as mechaneer quarters and rec room.


    Algreil Aerospace could build plenty of machines to fill the Venture, along with every sister ship in its fleet.


    Pilots? Not so much.


    He wondered if the Equanimity''s young captain would have surrendered if he''d realized that the Oligarchical forces amounted to only one squad more than what was buzzing around his ship. Considering the disparity in mechaneering, Jack figured his men would have won the fight anyway, but it would have been a close thing.


    Which was, of course, why Otto had the Venture fly with half its official crew compliment. If the Feds didn''t catch on, they''d think they were up against twice as many opponents as they actually were. And if ¨C when ¨C they did catch on, the Algreil Aerospace forces would send out full compliments and catch them by surprise again. Actually, Otto would probably make the switch just before he guessed the Feds would catch on.


    Otto knew how to run a war. Nobody ever doubted that.


    "Message for you, Colonel," the Venture''s captain said as Jack disembarked from his Stingray.


    Jack nodded to the man. In most of the Federal Navy, a ship''s captain outranked a any mechaneer officer. Marcel Avalon seemed to be the exception that proved that rule. In the Oligarchical forces, branch didn''t matter, only rank. Technically, Jack was in command of the entire Venture, although he didn''t know how to fight a capital ship and wouldn''t have tried. "What''s the word?"


    "I don''t know, sir," the captain said. "It''s from Mr. Algreil."


    Speak of the devil, Jack thought. "Gotcha. I''ll take it on a private channel." He slipped the mask of his flight suit up.


    Otto''s face appeared before him. "Hear you caught yourself another fish, Jack," the oligarch said. ''Fish'' was old mechaneer slang for a small capital ship like a frigate or escort carrier; big ones were ''whales,'' their point defense craft ''sharks.''


    Jack chuckled. "This one''s pretty small. I''m thinking of throwing it back."


    "Very funny," Otto said. "I''m glad you''re getting tired of the small frys, though."


    Jack''s laughter died in his throat.


    "A second Federal Navy fleet is gathering in the Etemenos system. Attack configuration. One of the ships that just returned is the flagship, the Reformer."


    "The Divine Auric Drake again, huh?" Jack thought back to his and Otto''s fight with Marcel Avalon. That was one Fed mechaneer he didn''t outclass. "You sure about attack configuration?"


    "Oh, yeah. Until the Reformer showed up, I didn''t understand why they hadn''t set off already. Seems they were waiting on their golden boy."


    "You think they''re gonna hit Algreil Prime?"


    "Wouldn''t you?"


    Of course, Jack thought. The Oligarchy had declared war and started picking off federal garrisons piecemeal. The Senate had to respond or they''d lose control of half their systems and the confidence of the rest. And Otto had set himself up as the face of the Oligarchy. "You calling the Venture back?"


    Otto nodded. "We''re going to assemble the fleet here and move out to meet them."


    Jack started to nod in return. Then he froze. "What about Chloe? Last we heard, the Reformer was tailing her and your brother, right?"


    "That was... what we thought, yeah."


    "You don''t know?"


    "If the Feds had the Heir," Otto said, "they wouldn''t be shy about saying so. Morale around here would fall apart before you could blink. Hell, even Rudy''s famous enough they''d boast about capping his worthless ass, not that it would take much."


    Unless they didn''t want to publicize what they planned to do to ''the Heir,'' Jack thought. To Chloe. To my little girl.


    And he''d wanted to spare those bastards? Principle, he''d ¨C!


    He took a deep breath. Even if the Feds wanted to keep catching and hurting Chloe under wraps, Otto was at least right about his brother. The Feds could boast about killing or imprisoning the famous Crimson Phoenix and still keep quiet about who else they had locked up.


    Not killed.


    Jack wouldn''t, couldn''t, believe ''killed.''


    "They''re still out there, Jack," Otto said. He almost sounded concerned, which for Otto meant ''less sarcastic than usual.'' "When I hear from Rudy, you''ll be the first to know."


    "Thanks," Jack said.


    "I''m not doing it as a favor, old buddy."


    Jack didn''t have to be told. Otto might have been bullshitting when he told the other Captains of Industry he''d planned having the Heir raised by a former subordinate, but the oligarch would play that card for all it was worth.


    Nonetheless, Jack said, "Thanks anyway."

 Chapter 42: First Among Equals

    Chapter 42: First Among Equals


    "You should have waited until you made a full recovery before giving your report, Marcel," President Rhetta Ferrill said sternly. "You know I''d never blame you for looking after yourself."


    The President of the Federal Senate, First Among Equals and the closest thing the galaxy had to a ruler, was a short, thin woman with severely-cut brown hair and a loose, groundling-style suit that seemed to have been tailored to match her hairdo. She had a stiff posture and a trace of a harsh accent from her heavily urbanized homeworld, Raypoint.


    She had nearly exploded from behind her desk when Ellie and Avalon entered, and hovered over the admiral like a mother hen.


    Ellie found the contrast surprisingly charming, and wondered if it had helped Ferrill to her present position.


    "My condition is stable, Madame President," Avalon said. "Even if it had not been, however, I felt it necessary to report to you in person. And to accept full responsibility."


    Ferrill frowned at the statement, then at Ellie. The president seemed somewhat annoyed at Ellie, though she didn''t know if it was because she was intruding on what Ferrill thought should be a private meeting or because she was a hybrid. "And this is?"


    "Ellie Hughes," Avalon said. "The wife of former Colonel Jack Hughes of the Algreil Devil Rays, adoptive mother to the young woman we believe to be the heir to the Astroykos Dynasty."


    Immediately, Ferrill''s expression brightened. "My apologies, then, Mrs. Hughes. In my distress at poor Marcel''s condition, I''ve neglected an important guest." She extended a hand, which Ellie reluctantly shook.


    "Er, thank you, Ma''am," Ellie said, surprised at the warm reception.


    "I suppose you think we have a great deal more to apologize for," Ferrill said. She sighed. "I suppose you''re right."


    Ellie didn''t respond. She wasn''t sure what she''d expected, but apologies certainly didn''t rank high on the list.


    But then, nothing about her arrival in Etemenos had gone how she expected. Avalon had whisked her to the very heart of the world-city¡¯s silvery core, to the hub of galactic power, with no guards and him incapacitated. Even now, the closest security forces waited outside of Ferrill¡¯s office, separated by a corridor long enough to benefit from its surface flowing to or from the door.


    Avalon had behaved as though he trusted Ellie. Ferrill had behaved as though she accepted his judgment unconditionally.


    Did that mean they were telling the truth about their plans for Chloe ¨C or lack thereof?


    Or that they were very dedicated to appearing so?


    Ellie tried to focus her acute senses on the problem, but surprise clouded her judgment. Besides, she had no way of knowing how good of a liar Ferrill was. She was, after all, a politician. Ellie had a spacer''s distrust of the breed, coupled with a hybrid''s loathing of the Federal Senate.


    "The preliminary report I received said the Reformer fired on your adopted daughter''s transport," Ferrill said. "Is that true, Marcel?"


    "It is."


    "Why?"


    Avalon tried to hang his head. It didn''t go far. "I do not know, Ma''am."


    "Why not?"


    "I was engaged in single combat with the Black Rook ¨C Stephan Kyrillos ¨C at the time."


    "Then the decision was made by your first officer, Captain Little?" Ellie suspected she only noticed the edge that crept into Ferrill''s voice because of her felid hearing. The contrast between the president''s friendly demeanor and her harsh accent seemed to hide a lot of emotion.


    "The responsibility does not lie with Captain Little," Avalon said. "He made a judgment call. In his place, I would probably have done the same."


    "Under other, better circumstances," Ferrill said, "that would be left to a court martial to decide."


    "These are not ''better circumstances,'' Ma''am."


    "Of course not." Ferrill scowled and looked away. "They would want to pin a medal on the good captain, in any case."


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    Ellie cocked her head. "If you''ll pardon my asking, Ma''am ¨C why wouldn''t you?"


    Avalon and Ferrill both turned to look at Ellie as if they''d forgotten she was in the room.


    Or as if they wanted her to think they had.


    Ellie''s head hurt from trying to figure out the layers of deception she might be snared in, not least because she couldn''t even be sure they existed in the first place.


    "Don''t get me wrong," she continued, "I''m glad you apparently want Chloe to be safe. But from where I''m standing, it seems like you''re crazy to want that. If you''d left her alone, she never would have hurt anyone, but as angry as she must be, with the aristocracy teaching her, why in the world don''t you want my daughter dead?"


    "She has a right to be angry," Ferrill said. "She has already lost one set of parents to actions precipitated by the Federal Senate, and as far as she knows is well on her way to losing a second set."


    Ellie cocked her head. "That''s... kind of my point, Ma''am."


    "Is not the purpose of the senate to prevent that sort of injustice?"


    ¡°How do you plan to manage that?¡± Ellie asked.


    ¡°By redressing the wrongs done her in the past,¡± Ferrill said. ¡°By giving her the chance to right others.¡±


    "You want her to take back her throne?"


    "Of course not. Whatever claims your daughter might decide to press, Mrs. Hughes, we are not about to sacrifice the peace and equality of the galaxy for her sake. However, if she is, as I have every reason to suspect, a reasonable young woman, we can reach a mutually beneficial settlement with her." Ferrill turned away. Her hands, clasped behind her back, clenched so tightly she seemed about to cut off circulation to her fingers. "At least, that was my original hope."


    "Madame President¡­" Avalon''s medical chair drifted closer to her.


    "My hope," Ferrill repeated, clearing her throat, "was that your daughter would accept a ceremonial role in the new government. That in doing so, she would restore relations with the Periphery and reintegrate the aristocratic colonies there. That the ''peace and equality of the galaxy'' I''m so fond of speaking of would actually exist."


    "I thought you people believed it already did."


    "Do you believe that, Mrs. Hughes?" Ferrill''s hand drifted up to almost brush against one of Ellie''s pointed ears. Apparently, she realized the gesture would have been patronizing from a stranger, because her fingers halted in mid-air. She''d made her point anyway, not that she''d needed to.


    "No, Ma''am," Ellie said quietly. "I don''t believe what I know isn''t true."


    "A rare gift," Ferrill said. "My experience is that most people believe what they want to be true, my illustrious colleagues unfortunately included. They like to believe the important work is done, for instance. No matter that hybrids are enslaved in all but name and nobles exiled on pain of death, no matter that oligarchs are raised higher than the old aristocracy ever was."


    "So change it. You''re the president, right?"


    "A president is not a dictator, Mrs. Hughes, much less an empress. My power is limited to vetoing such measures as my colleagues can be bothered to bring forward if they would make things worse. Without broad political support, I cannot change anything."


    "And Chloe could? You said you wanted a figurehead, not a ruler."


    "Figureheads have power, too, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said. "More power than rulers, sometimes. They control hearts rather than bodies."


    "Sounds like a pretty good deal," Ellie said. And if it were true, it actually would be. Chloe would probably accept the offer if she thought she could do real good, especially for hybrids.


    Let''s see, Ellie thought, if they mean it.


    "In fact," she said, "I''ll tell Chloe everything you just told me ¨C as soon as I find her."


    "That''s rather our responsibility at this point, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said. "We have the resources ¨C"


    "But Chloe doesn''t want you to find her. Your best chance to do so is to let me go and look for her." And decide if I should recommend she see you once my head is a whole lot clearer, Ellie added in her thoughts.


    Besides, she looked at her request as a test.


    "I''m afraid that''s not possible, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said.


    Test failed. As expected. "Why? Am I a prisoner here?"


    "Of course not," Avalon said.


    Ferrill sighed. "Actually, Marcel, she probably should be."


    "Why, Ma''am? On what grounds would we hold Ellie, even if we wanted to?"


    "We would not hold her," Ferrill said. She heaved a sigh and returned to her desk. "The rest of the Senate, and Etemenos System Security, would not be so kind, and they have all the grounds they need."


    "Because I''m a hybrid," Ellie said, thinking she understood.


    The President of the Federal Senate barked a laugh. "Ironically no, Mrs. Hughes. For all the injustice your kind faces courtesy of your uncertain legal status, I''m afraid in this case Marcel and I are the ones acting with uncertain legality."


    "On what grounds would Ellie be held?" Avalon demanded. Quickly, he added, "Ma''am."


    "Sedition in a time of war," Ferrill said, "which the Reformer''s logs confirm. And suspicion of conspiracy to commit treason."


    "Conspiracy with who?" Ellie asked.


    "With your husband, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said. "As he is, at the moment, with the vanguard of the fleet Marcel is about to make war on."

 Chapter 43: The Periphery

    Chapter 43: The Periphery


    Chloe wore a floor-length, fur-trimmed dress of some sort of soft, supple leather Milissa assured her was one-hundred percent real. Which was apparently a selling point. She somehow managed to feel overdressed and exposed all at once. She''d had to shed the familiar comfort and modesty of her flight suit, and the dress''s bustline drooped below her shoulders. But even Rudy had, however grudgingly, given in and put on the local garb. Chloe didn''t see how she could have refused to wear it as well. A tall hat, as furry and white as the dress''s trim, sat on her head. She wouldn''t say she wore it, though, because when she glanced at the similar one nestled on Milissa''s curls, her own looked ridiculously ungainly.


    Who would have thought there was a skill to wearing a hat?


    Chloe sighed.


    "What''s the matter, Highness?" Milissa asked brightly. She did everything brightly. If it were possible to mourn brightly, Milissa would have done it. Since it wasn''t, she apparently refused to acknowledge she might have any reason for mourning.


    Chloe envied her terribly, and felt even worse for doing so.


    In the weeks since the Errant Magpie returned to New Kyrillopolis, Chloe hadn''t heard anything from Stephan. Or anything else from offworld. If any transmissions came to the planet, and she had to assume they did, Slava and Milissa didn''t see fit to share their contents.


    New Kyrillopolis wasn''t anything like she''d pictured the aristocratic enclaves of the periphery, either. The estate-world¡¯s name, suggestive of ancient cities, seemed like a bad joke.


    Oh, the house itself was gorgeous in its ancient styling, all marble columns and rich carpets and wood paneled walls ¨C real wood, even, though that was less shocking than usual considering the seemingly endless expanse of forest beyond the grounds. Those grounds were, if anything, even more beautiful. The estate was large, perhaps as big as the entire Algreil Aerospace arcology on Wellach, and everything not a building or a path was covered with hardy flowering bushes that bloomed even in the winter, poking out from the snow in flashes of color.


    But there were no grand balls. No painfully handsome young noblemen. No noblemen at all, in fact, and Milissa the only noblewoman. Everyone else seemed to be a retainer, and most of those were men-at-arms. They treated Chloe with almost awed deference, which made her uncomfortable and kept her from getting to know any of them.


    She wondered if that wasn''t intentional.


    She wondered why.


    Certainly there was no training. She knew exactly as much about her powers as she had when she arrived. If Milissa had any psychic abilities she might have explained, she never displayed them. She seemed entirely uninterested in powers and politics. Left to her own devices, she talked about mecha tournaments, about clothes, or, mostly, about the glorious career, personality and appearance of one Crimson Phoenix, Rudolf Kaine Algreil.


    Chloe couldn''t imagine any topic she less wanted to discuss with her hostess.


    Was this what Stephan had risked his life for? What Chloe had followed a hunch for? Sitting ''safe'' on a barely-inhabited planet on the edge of human space, where the Feds could pluck her away as soon as they found her, farther from rescuing her parents than ever?


    Milissa repeated, "Highness?"


    "Sorry," Chloe said. "It''s nothing."


    "Oh. Good." Milissa shrugged and leaned over the edge of the marble balcony. She leaned far over, stretched, yawned. "I can''t wait for the new year, can you, Highness?"


    "Is it New Year''s already?" Chloe looked away before Milissa could see her horrified expression. Had it really been four Imperial Standard Era months since she''d seen her parents? Time, it seemed, flew.


    Principle, how she wished it wouldn''t!


    "Oh, yes," Milissa said. She rolled over on the rail and leaned her head back till she was nearly horizontal. Then she frowned. "With Stephan away, though, we won''t have nearly as festive a year''s end as usual."


    "I''m sure he''s all right, Milissa," Chloe said.


    Milissa laughed. "Obviously. I simply meant he won''t be around to entertain us."


    Chloe tried to imagine Stephan ''entertaining.'' Failed.


    "Maybe you could do it, Highness," Milissa said suddenly.


    Chloe blinked.


    Apparently quite taken with her idea, whatever it was, Milissa clapped her hands and leaned close. "Are you any good with snow?"


    "I''d never even seen snow before coming here," Chloe said. An exaggeration, if barely. She¡¯d seen it on the Mother Goose¡¯s screens during rare visits to cold-weather planets.


    She''d seen plenty of snow since her arrival on New Kyrillopolis, though. The balcony sported a dusting of it despite the servants'' best efforts to keep it cleared away, and the forest beyond was almost pure white.


    "Oh." Milissa''s grin wavered, then settled into place. "But you''ll be a natural, I''m sure. It rather goes without saying!"


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    A third voice wafted from below the balcony. "If you two are going to make out, it''s no fair making me crane my neck all this way to watch."


    "Rudy!" Chloe leaned over the balcony and glared down at him. Down, at least, until he kicked himself off the wall, flipped up to the railing, and landed on it beside her, sitting as calmly and serenely as if he hadn''t had to leap a good two and a half meters just to grab the bottom of the balcony.


    Startled, Chloe slipped and bumped into Milissa. They ended up tangled against the far railing.


    "Wow," Rudy said, "I was kidding."


    Chloe glanced down. She and Milissa were practically snarled in each other''s arms. She sprang up. "That is not what we were talking about. Principle!"


    Rudy shrugged. "A man can dream."


    "You''re disgusting," Chloe snapped.


    Milissa climbed to her feet and glided over to Rudy. "It''s true, Crimson Phoenix, you''re really out of control." She made a show of stifling a giggle. "Of course, as a fan, I wouldn''t have it any other way."


    Rudy just grinned wider.


    "And that jump was incredible," Milissa continued. She leaned over the railing again, this time right next to Rudy. "It must be, what, three meters at least? How in the world did you manage it?"


    "Three meters is nothing," Rudy said. "All you need are footholds and bam, there you go."


    "Well I think it''s something." Milissa leaned even further out, stretching again. Showing off.


    Her hands slipped. She tumbled forward with an undignified squeak, her hat flying and her legs kicking.


    Rudy''s arm shot out and snagged her by the waist. "The hell are you doing? Jumping three meters may be nothing, but falling it sure isn''t!"


    He hauled her back to the balcony, and she collapsed against him, gasping. Her arms wrapped around him and she pressed her face to his chest.


    Rudy looked down at her and started to say something.


    Then he looked up and met Chloe''s eyes.


    "I''m pretty sure she''s all right," Chloe said. She didn''t think she sounded too sarcastic. "Right, Milissa?"


    "Oh, yes, Highness," Milissa said. She nestled her cheek against Rudy so she could face Chloe while she spoke. Lo and behold, she didn''t seem to be gasping with fear now. "Thanks to the Crimson Phoenix."


    Chloe nodded stiffly. "It''s a wonder you managed without him."


    "Isn''t it, though?"


    "You should probably let go now, Milissa," Rudy said. "Since you''re fine and all."


    "Must I?" She looked up at him and pressed closer.


    "Don''t bother," Chloe said. "I wouldn''t want to intrude."


    She turned on her heel and stalked into the hallway. The doors swung shut behind her.


    They slammed open immediately after, but she didn''t stop. She made it around the corner before Rudy caught up to her and missed a grab for her wrist.


    "What?" Chloe asked, still not turning around.


    "I could ask you the same," he said. "Why are you so tense?"


    "Why do you think, Rudy? Our charming hostess hangs on you like you''re the last escape pod on a crashing ship."


    "So she''s a fan," Rudy said. "Lots of people are."


    "''Lots of people'' don''t practically jump into your arms in front of my face."


    "Objection."


    Chloe turned around, hands on her hips.


    "She jumped off the edge of the balcony," Rudy said. "She only ended up in my arms because I grabbed her so she didn''t crack her fool head."


    "Principle forfend," Chloe said sarcastically. She winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "I don''t mean that. You did have to grab her."


    "I stand vindicated, then?"


    "It''s just..." Chloe shook her head. "Maybe if you wouldn''t encourage Milissa, she wouldn''t get the idea to do crazy stuff like that. What if she''d gotten hurt, Rudy?"


    "I''m pretty sure she knows her limits," Rudy said. "Not so sure about yours, though. It''s not just me and Milissa, is it?"


    "Of course not. I know that''s nothing serious." She didn''t know any such thing, of course ¨C Rudy had looked awfully comfortable with Milissa wrapped around him ¨C, but it seemed politic to say.


    "So what''s really bothering you?"


    "More like, ''what isn''t?'' We''re further from rescuing my parents than ever, Principle alone knows what''s happening to your company, and Stephan... if he''s not dead, he''s sure doing a darned good impression. What are we even doing here, Rudy?"


    With a face full of wide-eyed innocence, he suggested, "Getting fawned over by Milissa?"


    "Be serious, Rudy!"


    "No."


    Chloe hadn''t expected such a curt denial. Whatever Rudy might say, he''d suddenly gotten serious, and she didn''t understand why. "Why not?"


    "Because there''s not a damn thing you or I can do about our situation unless we want to break out of this place guns blazing, steal a ship, crew it ourselves, and blast off for Algreil Prime or the nearest better idea you''ve got."


    "Don''t even say such a thing! We''re guests here."


    "My point exactly. Guests with no ship, no crew, no plan and no destination. Face it, Clo, we''re powerless." He took her hands and pulled her forward, closer than she really should have let him.


    Well, she thought, it wasn''t nearly as close as Milissa had been.


    A large part of her thought that was hardly a good excuse, but it sufficed.


    Rudy gave her one of his rare serious smiles. "We''ll figure out some way to get back on track, but for now, just try to think of it as a vacation. Relax."


    "I can''t vacation when my parents are in trouble, Rudy."


    "I''m pretty sure I just proved you can''t do anything else."


    "You''ve totally shifted this conversation, you know."


    "That was the plan."


    "I should be mad about it."


    "Seems that way."


    "I''m not."


    "Figured."


    They''d drifted closer with each word, until Chloe was, or at least felt, every bit as tightly pressed against him as Milissa had been. With a deep breath, she pulled her hands free, clasped them behind her back and stepped away. "Has anyone ever told you you''re too charming for your own good, Mr. Algreil?"


    "Not for my own good, no," Rudy said. "For everybody else''s? Sure."


    Chloe laughed.


    "About time," he said. "For a while there, I thought you were gonna get all weepy on me again. You know how I feel about that."


    "Can''t stand it," Chloe said.


    "Damn straight."


    "Me neither," she said. "And Rudy ¨C thanks. I will try to relax."


    The warning klaxon chose that moment to start blaring.

 Chapter 44: Strife

    Chapter 44: Strife


    "Alarie, sweetie, honey, baby, I gotta ask a little question." Otto leaned across the desk until his face was only centimeters from his wide-eyed wife''s. "Just one simple, little question."


    Alarie looked too startled to answer.


    Otto leaned even closer, like he was going to kiss her right there in the office, closer still till they were touching cheek to cheek and his lips were at her ear.


    Then he snapped, "Where the hell are your father''s ships?"


    Alarie winced away. "I don''t know, Otto, I swear, it''s some sort of mistake, it''s not my fault, I don''t know ¨C!"


    "Well there''s a damn surprise," Otto said. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Remind me again why you even come to these meetings? It apparently isn''t your dad''s support, and it sure as hell isn''t your keen insight."


    "Leave her alone, Otto," Jack said. Every time he saw the two together, he had to restrain himself from punching his boss. Trying to, anyway. He''d thought Otto was cruel to Ellie, but compared to how he treated his own wife, he''d practically put Jack''s on a pedestal.


    He said, "It''s not Alarie''s fault her dad''s ships aren''t here yet."


    "That''s very kind of you, Colonel Hughes, but Otto''s right," Alarie said quietly. "There''s... really no reason for me to be here."


    Jack stared at her.


    She got to her feet, nodded slightly to Otto. "May I be excused?"


    He waved her off. "Do whatever you want."


    "Thank you, Otto." Alarie produced a bland smile, nodded again to both men, and padded from the office. The door slid shut behind her.


    Otto rolled his eyes. He started to bend over the pile of papers and hologram projectors on his desk, then caught Jack''s expression. "What?"


    "The hell do you do that for?"


    "Do what? Are you still talking about Alarie?"


    "What do you think?"


    "I think," Otto said, "it''s none of your damn business, Colonel Hughes. So why don''t you butt out of my personal life and take a look at this shit that''s doing it''s damndest to end same."


    "You''re making me hope they pull it off."


    "Oh, spare me. Alarie knew what she was getting into when she pawned herself off for a share of my company."


    "That''s no reason for you to go out of your way to hurt her," Jack snapped.


    "Aren''t we just the white knight? Between this and your furry love, I''d think you were a nob in disguise."


    "You leave Ellie out of this, Otto. It''s pretty damned obvious you wouldn''t know the first thing about actually caring for someone."


    "You never can tell," Otto said. Then he picked up one of the projectors and held it up. His touch activated the device and it spewed out a hologram of Algreil Prime''s star system. "Now shut up about me and Alarie and pay attention. This is important."


    "No."


    "Excuse me?"


    "I''m not dropping it," Jack said. "Maybe you''re right. Maybe it''s none of my damn business. I can''t do anything about what Alarie lets you get away with, or what, Principle knows why, you want to get away with ¨C but Otto, you better shape up soon."


    Otto scowled at him. "If I didn''t know better, old buddy, I''d say you were trying to threaten me."


    "No, I''m warning you. ''Cause as it stands, you''re wasting a whole hell of a lot of time with me. You think I''d bring my wife and daughter into an environment like this? Have them around someone who acts like that?"


    "Obviously they''re much better off with the Feds, who want to kill them," Otto said. "I mean, what''s death compared to a little harsh language?"


    "Maybe so," Jack said. "But you''re still betting on Chloe getting on board with your rebellion, and that sure as shit ain''t happening if she hears you treat your wife that way."


    Otto laughed. "Did she learn to be a nosy busybody from dear old dad?"


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    "Probably, except where I come from we call it common decency. You should try it some time."


    "It may be decent," Otto said, "but I think you''d be unpleasantly surprised at how uncommon it is."


    "I wouldn''t be," Jack said, "but Chloe would. And you''d be short her help and looking at some real long odds. Especially since she''s liable to decide you''re the bad guy in this whole thing, and I''m halfway to agreeing. Then you''ve got the Feds, the nobs, and the girl you think can probably lick ''em both on your case."


    "If you told her to follow orders ¨C"


    "She''d chew me out for following the orders of a man neither of us ought to respect," Jack said. "Ellie and I didn''t raise her to take our word for it. We tried to do right and get her to do the same. Principle grant we did a damn fine job."


    "It is none of your business," Otto snapped. "None of your business and none of your daughter''s when we find her."


    "Dammit, Otto, why do you care so much about humiliating Alarie? Care enough you''d risk losing my and Chloe''s help, and anybody else''s who''s got half a heart''s?"


    "She knew what she was getting into," Otto repeated, "and this discussion is closed."


    Otto''s reactions left Jack dumbfounded. He''d always known Otto was a cold-hearted son of a bitch, sure wouldn''t have wished the oligarch on any daughter, sister or cousin of his. But being actively, devotedly cruel to someone who''d never done him any harm?


    Jack''s instincts screamed that the situation didn''t add up.


    "I don''t know, and you''ll be glad to know don''t care, how come you married a woman you obviously hate. All I know is, you''re risking a lot of loss and you''re not getting any reward, and that''s bad business, Otto. That ain''t the ''old buddy'' I remember."


    Otto started to snap a reply. Then he closed his eyes, exhaled, and said, "You... may have a point. I''ll take it under advisement."


    Score one for being able to sleep at night after I fight on your payroll, Jack thought. He didn''t mind working for a bastard like Otto, provided he could tell himself Otto was being a bastard with good reason.


    "But Jack?"


    "Yeah?"


    "Don''t forget. I only need your daughter to convince the cowards and fools I must reluctantly call ''colleague'' to stand up and do what they should have done fifteen years ago. Not her power, not her inheritance. Just her presence."


    Jack didn''t like the sound of that.


    "If I thought bringing her here would do at least as much harm as good, old buddy, I wouldn''t do it. I sure as hell wouldn''t stick my neck out on her account or your wife''s, and right now you''ve got exactly one chance at saving either of them: yours truly."


    "That''s not ¨C"


    "Do you have a backup plan, Jack?"


    Jack didn''t.


    "Do you honestly believe I don''t?"


    Jack didn''t.


    "Thought so," Otto said. "Now shut up and look at the hologram."


    What else could Jack do? Stiffly, he took the machine from Otto and turned it around so its control pad faced him. He thumbed in on Algreil Prime, where four fleets of Oligarchical vessels were gathered. Algreil Aerospace''s flagship, the cruiser Journeyman, hovered beside the space station where Jack and Otto sat. Arrayed around it were its three sister ships, twenty-two destroyers, ten escort carriers and over a hundred frigates. Three smaller fleets ringed the station, each representing another corporation in the Oligarchy that had answered Otto''s call.


    All told, they only amounted to about half the size of Marcel Avalon''s Second Fleet.


    "Your thoughts," Otto said.


    Jack tried a few out. You''re a bastard. We are so dead. This is the craziest thing I''ve ever heard, even from you.


    He settled on, "We need more ships."


    "We''ll get them," Otto said. "By the time Avalon assembles his Second Fleet and reaches this system, at least Valhalla Vehicleworks, BiStar and OBERG will have their ships in-system. Plus the Marchesses."


    He sounded almost apologetic when he added Alarie''s maiden name.


    Almost.


    "You said two of those would be here last week, too," Jack pointed out.


    "And one of these weeks, I''m bound to be right. Anyway, we need to figure out how to use the assets we have. In fact..." Otto grinned. "I just had a really interesting thought."


    "That sounds bad."


    "Oh, believe me, it''s terrible ¨C for the Feds, if we can pull it off." Otto brought up a larger version of the hologram in Jack''s hands and spun it around so his finger rested on the edge of the system nearest where they''d estimated Algreil Prime would be in its orbit. The system and its sun were both small, so fleets could come in fairly close. A big boon to commerce. To defensive war, not so much. "We''ve detected Avalon''s compression tunnel. This is where he''s going to come out."


    "Okay,¡± Jack said.


    "And this,¡± Otto said, swiveling the hologram slightly to point at a tunnel exit nine gigameters from the Federal one, ¡°is where ships from our absentee allies are going to come through."


    "Wonderful. Avalon can pick apart our reinforcements one at a time."


    "Not if we get there first," Otto said.


    "You''re gonna fight them before you have all your ships, right where they''re coming out of compressed space? Once the first ship drops, they''ll have a complete image of our fleet in their tactical computers and we''ll be guessing what they throw at us next."


    "But we''ll have our mecha out and waiting for them," Otto said. "Theirs will be stuck launching as each ship comes back into normal space. They''ll be disoriented."


    "Sounds pretty risky."


    "No risk, no reward," Otto said. "It stands to reason that the bigger the risk... well, you get the idea."


    "That doesn''t track and you know it."


    "But it''ll play great with the rest of the Captains of Industry. They''ll all be praying I crash and burn in the opening wave."


    "They''ll be playing the safe odds," Jack muttered.


    Otto ignored him.


    Jack was getting too damn used to that.

 Chapter 45: The Project

    Chapter 45: The Project


    Marcel Avalon wore the white and dark green dress uniform of his station, emblazoned with the symbols of his battlegroup, the Federal Navy''s Second Fleet, the Reformer, and the Divine Auric Drake. Ceremonial sidearm and sword adorned his waist, held in place by a gold brocade belt. In profile, he looked like a recruiting poster come to life.


    Except that he was still seated in his medical chair.


    Except that when he turned to Ellie, one side of his face was the pale pink of newly fabricated skin.


    Except that he looked nearly as miserable as she felt.


    "So," she said, "you''re really going."


    "I have my duty," he said. "You know that."


    "Your duty. And how do you expect to achieve that? Your leg won''t heal for a month at least. Maybe never, if you damage it while it''s regenerating. You''re still taking Limiters to keep the pain of your internal organs being rearranged from driving you mad." Ellie shook her head. "You can''t even walk, much less pilot."


    "I would think you''d be thankful," Avalon said. "If I am at less than my full capability, I am less likely to defeat your husband."


    "You wouldn''t beat Jack anyway." Ellie wished she could believe that. She''d seen Avalon fight a mechaneer-aristocrat to a standstill. How could any ordinary man hope to stand against him?


    Of course, she reminded herself, Jack was hardly ordinary.


    Just not a mechaneer-aristocrat. Not a psychic errant.


    And not a match for the Divine Auric Drake.


    Avalon asked, "You really believe that, Ellie?"


    "No," she said, hating herself more for admitting it than for feeling it in the first place. "You''d probably demolish him."


    "I don''t want to fight him," Avalon said.


    "Then why are you?" Ellie cried. She rushed across the spartan Etemenos apartment and fell to her knees beside the medical chair. "Why do you have to do this, damn you?"


    "Because it''s my duty."


    "And you''d die for that. Kill for that. Kill a man you know isn''t guilty of anything more than protecting his family, the man I love. And you can sit there with a straight face and try to sound kind to me?" Her hands closed around his, shaking. She felt like she was going to cry, or laugh, or maybe throw up.


    All of the above sounded about right.


    "I have my orders," he said. "If your husband had not sided with Otto Algreil''s rebels ¨C"


    "If you people hadn''t forced him to, you mean?" Ellie looked up at him. It would be so easy to take comfort in his troubled expression, his kind words.


    No.


    She refused to be comforted!


    Avalon was going to take his Second Fleet to Algreil Prime, and he was going to kill Jack, die trying or both.


    Ellie''s grip on Avalon''s hand tightened. She hoped, and wondered if she should hope, that she wasn''t hurting him. It was his left, only just recovered. "If what the president said is true ¨C"


    "It is," Avalon said automatically.


    "¨C then this is all a big misunderstanding. Jack and I fearing you''d hurt Chloe. The attack on the Algreil arcology. Jack fighting for his old boss. His old boss fighting at all!"


    "It was not a misunderstanding on the part of Otto Abeir Algreil," Avalon said. "If that man did not plan on this exact result, it is only to the extent that he lost the engagement on Wellach."


    "I could give a damn about Otto Algreil," Ellie snarled. "Principle! That man deserves the worst you could give."


    "In this, we are agreed."


    "But Jack doesn''t. I swear he doesn''t. He''s always been loyal to the Senate, always believed in this government. Even when it did wrong, he believed it would make things right." Ellie gazed up into Avalon''s mesmerizing amber eyes. "Admiral, Marcel, please, let me come with the Reformer. Let me talk to him!"


    "I¡­" Avalon sighed. "I can''t, Ellie. I''m sorry."


    "Why?"


    "Because you are only free at all thanks to President Ferrill and I vouching for you. You are guilty of sedition in a time of war, Ellie, though neither of us knew at the time war had come. I can''t believe you wouldn''t do more if you believed the stakes were the lives of my men or the life of your husband. I won''t put you in a position to make that decision, for your sake or my men''s."


    Ellie hung her head.


    Free? On a world-city where she knew no one and nothing, where the hallways formed and vanished from a nanomachine sea, where likely every person she''d met save Marcel Avalon and perhaps Rhetta Ferrill saw her as property?


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    Yet she couldn''t deny his accusation. She would destroy the Reformer and every man aboard, and herself with it, if she thought it would save Jack''s life.


    "Why aren''t you afraid I''ll kill you now, then?" Ellie asked. Avalon was somewhat recovered, but not so much that she couldn''t have taken his life if she''d wanted to. She could probably yank the sidearm from his own belt and shoot him with it.


    Except that she couldn''t do that.


    Avalon knew she could kill him. He knew she probably should. Yet he had let her take care of him, unwatched, unguarded, unaided, for three weeks. She''d taken the best care she could, too. Principle alone knew why, but she could only bear the thought of Avalon dying when she weighed his death against Jack or Chloe''s.


    "Well?" she demanded. "Why aren''t you afraid?"


    "If you killed me," he said, "it would be to protect your family. It would be insufficient, but it would not be wrong. Since it would be my life against theirs, I would not hold it against you. Harming my men is another matter entirely."


    "How can you say that and still go out and fight Jack?"


    "I have my orders."


    "Damn your orders!" Ellie sprang to her feet. She stalked away from him, fists balled so tight her nails dug into her palms. "That''s a coward''s excuse. You know what''s right and you refuse to do it; what''s wrong, and you refuse to stop it."


    "You know my opinion on this matter," Avalon said. "I cannot afford to have any other. President Ferrill is the duly elected leader of the Federal Senate. Hers is the will of the people, and I am their hand."


    "You trust her that much?"


    "Of course!" If there was one thing that could crack Avalon''s shell, it was President Ferrill.


    Ellie had to try. If it wasn''t the only thing she could do for Jack, it was the only thing she could bring herself to. She forced the tension to ease from her body, the tightness from her voice.


    She turned back to Avalon. "Why do you trust her so much? Just because she got elected president?"


    "I obey because she is the president," Avalon said. "I trust her because she is the closest thing to a mother I have."


    Ellie fumbled for an answer. "I hadn''t realized... she was that much older than you."


    "I''m younger than I look," Avalon said. "And the president looks well for her age."


    You look too young to be an admiral, Ellie thought. If you''re younger than that...


    She didn''t doubt Avalon''s competence, but if what he said was true, how could he speak with a straight face about ''equality'' when he could only owe his position to nepotism?


    She said, "I don''t understand."


    "I don''t either, to be honest," he admitted. "I''m a military man, not a scientist. Suffice to say that I am not exactly, or not entirely, human."


    Ellie''s eyes widened. "You''re a hybrid?"


    "Or something like one, yes," Avalon said. "I was ''born'' in a research facility during the waning years of the Civil War. My creators were part of the Reinforced AnthropoMorphic Soldier Enhancement System, or RAMSES, Project, one of many such programs that sought to match the mental powers of the aristocracy to better oppose their social power."


    "Marcel," Ellie whispered, "I think you shouldn''t be telling me this."


    "You''re right," he said. "Everything you''re hearing is classified so top secret, I doubt a hundred people outside the senate know it. None of my crew. As far as I know, none of my immediate superiors."


    "Then why tell me?"


    "Because I want you to understand, Ellie." Marcel''s medical chair hovered closer to her. He reached out and clasped her hand. "Unless you do not want to know."


    I don''t, Ellie thought. Oh, Principle, I don''t. I don''t want to think about this, about ¨C


    She said, "Please, tell me."


    "As far as I know, I was six months old during the Battle of Etemenos. At that point, my physical maturation was closer to twelve years."


    Ellie felt her mouth going dry. Six months before Etemenos.


    It couldn''t be true.


    She asked, "How?"


    "Hormone, nanomachine and nutrient treatments," Avalon said. "As I said, I am no scientist. The specifics of the project are beyond me. I don''t even know where my genetic code comes from, save that it includes hybrid and aristocratic strains. I know only that my early months were comprised of training via subliminal briefing. My... creators hoped I would be ready to take the field as early as calendar age three."


    Ellie wanted to look away, but his gaze held hers as powerfully as a gravitic field. She said, "That''s horrible."


    "They were horrible times," he said.


    "You can''t excuse doing something like that!"


    He smiled ruefully. "If the directors of the RAMSES Project hadn''t accelerated my growth, trained me, in that manner, I wouldn''t even be alive. I find it difficult to condemn them for that.


    "Not," he added, "that I find it difficult to condemn them."


    Ellie cocked her head. Up until now, she''d assumed Avalon couldn''t see the horror of what he described.


    "The Battle of Etemenos killed the Emperor, then believed to be the only surviving Imperial. It broke the power of the aristocracy and crippled the Oligarchical military." Avalon''s smile turned bitter, nearly to a snarl. "Under the circumstances, breeding supersoldiers was deemed unnecessary. Dangerous. And, of course, political unacceptable."


    "What happened?"


    "My creators attempted to shut down the project," Avalon said. "They were not entirely successful."


    "Merciful Principle," Ellie whispered.


    "Perhaps. Enhanced or no, I was physically only twelve years old when I killed a dozen of the project''s security guards, took their weapons, and fought my way into the research station''s residential quarters before I was captured. The Principle''s intervention is not out of the question."


    Wordlessly, Ellie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.


    If Avalon noticed her, he gave no sign. "Still, I would have died there if not for President Ferrill. She was not the president then, of course, only the junior senator from Raypoint and assistant to then-President Casimir. She learned of the plan to disband the RAMSES Project and erase all trace of it, including the test subjects. She convinced President Casimir to investigate the Defense Research Committee and threatened to expose their plan to a vote in the full senate if they did not rescind it. We were only hybrids, nonpersons, but it would have been politically uncomfortable for the committee''s members."


    Ellie shuddered.


    "Why not agree, though? They had given the order already and already it had been carried out." Avalon''s body shook with what might have been a sob or a bitter laugh. "But for their succeeding too well in my case.


    "They would have killed me despite the rescinded order," he continued, "as I was obviously a ''life form hostile to galactic security.'' But President Ferrill would not allow it. Before I ever even met her, she was willing to pull every string, cash in every favor, to save me. She risked her career, her freedom, perhaps her life.


    "And in the end," he concluded, "she saved mine."

 Chapter 46: Guests

    Chapter 46: Guests


    Rudy burst into the control room a full fifteen paces ahead of Chloe. Back on Wellach, she''d almost managed to outdistance him in a sprint, but he''d always cornered far better, and she had to assume he''d kept in better shape. Too much time spent cramped up on ships and lazing around New Kyrillopolis. Rudy kept busier showing off for her and Milissa. And probably for himself.


    Regardless, she only caught the tail end of what he said to Slava. "¨C worrying about that shit while there''s something going down you''re probably gonna need my help for!"


    She got the drift.


    "It is not appropriate to ask guests to help," Slava growled. "Or for guests to enter without asking."


    Rudy shrugged. "Next thing I do that''s appropriate will be the first."


    Chloe tensed to interpose herself before the two came to blows again. Until they got close, she looked around the control room.


    She''d expected New Kyrillopolis''s antique aesthetic to end where its serious business began. She''d been wrong. The control room looked of a piece with the estate''s luxury suites, though its wood-paneled walls were adorned with displays like a warship''s, and the elegant, wood-framed furniture mimicked the layout of a ship''s bridge.


    Slava had apparently been seated in the command chair, because he stood in front of it now, glaring at Rudy and blocking Chloe''s view of a significant portion of the room. She didn''t know the other Kyrillos men-at-arms staffing the chamber by name.


    "Get out," Slava said to Rudy. Then, after a hesitation probably longer than custom dictated, he bowed to Chloe and said, "Your Highness may stay. Of course."


    Rudy took a step forward. "If Her Highness stays ¨C"


    Chloe grabbed his arm and shook her head. "It''s okay, Rudy. Why don''t you go find Milissa and see if she''s all right."


    He stared at her like she''d gone nuts. Which, considering what she''d just asked, she probably had.


    She sighed. "Just go, please? If anything important happens, I''ll tell you afterwards, but we can''t afford to fight with the Kyrilloses."


    "Like it''d be much of a fight," Rudy muttered.


    A growl rumbled from Slava''s mouth, and the pair of felids seated at the far end of the room snapped around to match his glare.


    "Go," Chloe hissed.


    For a wonder, Rudy went.


    Hopefully not because he was that eager to see Milissa again.


    Chloe pushed the thought away and turned to Slava.


    "Many thanks, Highness," the ursid said. "You are right. We cannot afford this fight."


    "What''s happening? I know you didn''t want to tell Rudy."


    "Lord Kyrillos," Slava said. "He is back."


    "That''s great news," Chloe said. She hoped she was right. "Isn''t it?"


    "He is not alone, Highness."


    "Oh." From the way Slava said it, the people with Stephan weren''t exactly friendly. "The Feds? Are they trying to hold him hostage or something?"


    Slava rumbled something noncommittal. Chloe took it for an ''or something.''


    She ran through the possibilities.


    The first, which made no sense at all, was that Stephan had betrayed her and his people. She certainly didn''t expect loyalty from him, whatever he might claim, but she expected him to look out for his own.


    The second was that he hadn''t had a choice.


    She gulped. She filed door number two away in a mental compartment labeled ''things she couldn''t do a thing about.''


    The third was that whoever was out there already knew how to find New Kyrillopolis.


    Couldn''t be the Feds. An oligarch? Maybe a certain red-haired oligarch? She glanced at the door Rudy had sprinted through. He''d been arguing with Slava and he''d been awfully quick to drop it. Had he found some way to get in touch with his brother?


    If he could, would he?


    If he had, should she be happy about it?


    She might actually be able to do something about an Oligarchical extraction team, whether the something turned out to be saving the Kyrillos estate from the ''garchs or vice versa. Unless they gave her reason not to, she''d at least give it a shot.


    "Who is it, Slava?"


    The ursid grunted again and averted his eyes. Some of the other men-at-arms shot him nervous glances, but none of them looked to Chloe.


    "I want to help," she said. "Please."


    "That won''t be necessary, Highness." Milissa''s voice drifted through the silently opened door. She followed a moment later, gliding lightly enough across the carpet she hardly seemed to ruffle it.


    Rudy followed at her heels.


    Chloe suppressed a frown. "Would somebody explain what''s going on?" she asked, more sharply than she''d intended. At least, she hoped she hadn''t intended it so sharply. Milissa probably didn''t deserve it.


    "We have more guests," Milissa said. "And Stephan''s come home."


    Any other time, the Kyrillos girl would have bubbled that. She said it seriously, almost sarcastically, and her smile looked awfully thin. Milissa looked every bit her brother''s sister.


    Chloe asked, "So why does this place feel tense as a space elevator cord?"


    "Because our guests are not necessarily welcome," Milissa said. She turned to Slava. "Captain?"


    "There are five of them."


    Milissa''s grin wavered. "Color?"


    "We do not have visuals at this range," Slava said.


    "But if there''s five, we know who it is." She sighed. "Oh, Principle above, this is not what we needed right now!"


    "Who is it?"


    "Complicated," Milissa said. She took the command chair Slava had recently vacated. Wordlessly, the ursid moved to an open console.


    "Complicated how?" Chloe occupied the chair beside the last unmanned console.


    Slava started to answer. "Highness, it is difficult ¨C"


    "No, Captain, it''s quite all right," Milissa said. "The five mecha out there belong to fellow members of the aristocracy. Five brothers, to be precise."


    Chloe couldn''t help it. Some of her old images of the periphery crept into her head and threatened to make her smile. Rudely, she shoved them to the back of her mind. She''d seen enough to know how little truth there was to those dreams. "Why is that bad?"


    "It may not be," Milissa said. "These gentlemen are not exactly enemies of House Kyrillos."


    "Not exactly?"


    "Our houses have given occasional offense," Milissa said, "but there haven''t been any duels for well over a lifetime. Stephan would very much like to keep it that way."


    "How do these guys feel?" Chloe asked. "About dueling, I mean?"


    "They''re quite fond of it, Highness," Milissa said, "so we must take care to make absolutely clear no one present is capable of giving satisfaction."


    Rudy swallowed a comment, but whether challenging, arrogant or lewd, Chloe was glad not to know. She shot him a little glare anyway, and got back a little grin. Lewd, then.


    "In any case, they are bringing my brother home, so I suppose they expect us to be grateful."


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "You''re sure Stephan''s with them? How can you tell?"


    "My Lord''s mecha sends us a signal," Slava said.


    Nothing as fancy as Milissa reading her brother''s mind, then. Chloe wondered sometimes if the younger Kyrillos had any powers at all. If so, they were either underutilized or dwarfed by her brother''s.


    "If they''re bringing Stephan home," Chloe asked, "why don''t they contact us and tell us?"


    "They know we''re aware of them," Milissa said. "As the hosts, we are expected to contact them and bid them welcome."


    "Then why don''t you?" Chloe searched the console she sat beside for some sort of communications device. If one existed there, she didn''t recognize it. Not that she recognized the instruments she did see. The Mother Goose, it wasn''t. "The sooner he gets back, the sooner we can be sure he''s all right, right?"


    "Because it would be too polite." Milissa spoke slowly, frowning slightly, as if she were explaining an obvious principle to a thick-headed child. "We mustn''t give the impression we act at their convenience rather than our own or else they''ll feel free to take more than we wish to give."


    "Like¡­?"


    "Concessions," Milissa said. It was the flattest word Chloe had ever heard her utter, and she managed to pack a lot of emotion into it. None of it pleasant.


    Chloe got the idea she should maybe shut up and watch.


    Principle! Even Rudy, who normally couldn''t keep from running his mouth for five seconds, had figured as much out. In Chloe''s defense, she supposed Milissa might have mentioned something to Rudy on the way to the control room.


    Sounded like a pretty feeble defense.


    She shut up and watched.


    Chloe watched the instruments, most of which followed patterns she wasn''t familiar with and whose function she could only guess at. She watched the men-at-arms, who, with Slava leading them, operated with what she assumed was cool, military efficiency. Mostly, she watched Milissa.


    The Kyrillos girl might have been a split personality. Traces of the familiar, frivolous, flirtatious Milissa remained, but not many. She moved almost as coolly and efficiently as her retainers.


    Or, as her brother.


    Chloe shuddered, and wasn''t sure why. The room temperature felt like it had dropped about ten degrees. She had to fight to keep from tugging the too-low bodice of the dress up so she didn''t have as much skin exposed to the chilly air.


    Rudy''s hand settled on her shoulder. She glanced up at his smile, which seemed to be an attempt at reassurance.


    She returned it with about as much success and kept watching.


    "Six mecha have entered the orbit of the processing station," one of the men-at-arms said. "We have a visual."


    "Let''s see them," Milissa said.


    They appeared on what Chloe had thought were just more wood panels but now recognized as very high-resolution screens. She wondered how much of the house was thus disguised.


    Five of the mecha were red-brown with golden bands. She didn''t recognize their markings, but Milissa evidently did, judging from her tired sigh.


    The sixth was the Black Rook.


    Stephan''s machine had obviously suffered from its bout with the Divine Auric Drake and the Reformer. Chloe remembered most of the damage from what she''d seen of the fight, but the mecha had clearly gotten the worst of the explosion at the battlecruiser. Already down one arm when last she saw it, the mecha had lost the other as well. If the twisted shoulder joint and trailing polymers were any indication, an explosion must have torn it off. As the angle of the mecha shifted relative to whatever camera the Kyrilloses were using to observe them, Chloe could see more of the damage on Stephan''s machine''s back. Nothing resembling thruster-wings remained, not even jagged stumps. Those seemed to have been pushed into the mess of shattered metal where its rear armor would have been.


    Chloe tried to imagine how it would have felt as neural feedback and winced. From the tightness of Rudy''s hand, she figured he did, too.


    Milissa didn''t speak for a long time. At last, she whispered, "Oh, my."


    Chloe fought an urge to rush to her side. She might not like Milissa ¨C okay, she didn''t like her, no ''might'' about it ¨C, but she knew how it felt to see family get hurt. Milissa might be a flirt, but Principle knew she didn''t deserve this.


    Stephan... might. Chloe hadn''t asked Rudy what more he knew about the Kyrillos family business. She didn''t like to think what she''d learn.


    Nonetheless, Chloe couldn''t wish it on Stephan, either. She owed him at least her freedom and probably her life, too, and Rudy''s besides.


    Slava glanced back at Milissa. "My Lady?"


    Milissa didn''t answer. She stared at Stephan''s mecha, ashen-faced, as if she''d never seriously considered the possibility he could get hurt.


    Slava repeated his query.


    Milissa gave the same response: none.


    "My Lady, if we do not tell them we are watching, they may do something not so polite," Slava said urgently.


    Milissa''s lip trembled.


    Chloe rose from her chair and said, "Open a channel, Captain."


    Her voice sounded oddly distant, commanding ¨C imperious. She swallowed a gulp. She''d never slipped into a role like the imperial one she''d used on the Errant Magpie by accident before.


    Slava, or one of his subordinates, obeyed even before they had time to think about it.


    The main screen went blank for a fraction of a second, then transformed itself into a face that could have been from another branch of the Kyrillos family tree. One who had let himself go, though. The mechaneer whose image filled the screen really did fill it. His flight suit did nothing to hide that he carried more pounds than the Principle intended his frame to, albeit in equal portions of fat and muscle. His deepset dark eyes practically sunk into a fleshy, ruddy face, and even his sharp nose seemed somewhat diminished in comparison. His long, curly hair and beard struck Chloe as almost ludicrously youthful in comparison to the rest of his look.


    "Good afternoon, Lady Kyrillos," he said. He had a jovial voice, but it sounded uncomfortably loud. "It is as always a great pleasure to enjoy the..."


    His voice trailed off as he saw Milissa still seated and Chloe, obviously aristocratic in her present garb and with the dye washed out of her hair, standing.


    "And who is this vision of loveliness with you?"


    Chloe started to answer, but Milissa suddenly bolted to her feet and said, "Lady Jaric. Lady Petra Jaric."


    Chloe didn''t remember telling Milissa about that. Had Slava?


    Had Rudy?


    "Lady Jaric," Milissa continued, "it is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to Lord Arsen Brise."


    "The pleasure is all mine," Lord Brise said, a gleaming white grin splitting his features.


    "Thank you, Lord Brise," Chloe said.


    "You''re very welcome." Lord Brise eyed her appreciatively ¨C and, for Chloe, uncomfortably ¨C before turning back to Milissa. "As you presumably already know, Lady Kyrillos, my brothers and I are about to do you some small good fortune. Unless, of course, you planned on inheriting shortly." He chuckled at what he apparently meant to be a joke.


    Milissa laughed politely, which was more than Chloe could manage.


    A snort of genuine laughter from the side of the room caught her attention. She glanced that way. Rudy had slipped out of the field of vision of whatever camera projected Chloe and Milissa to Lord Brise, and he apparently found the visitor funnier than either noblewoman did.


    "My brother is well," Milissa said. It was not a question. Nor, however, was it a statement of the obvious.


    It was somewhere between a plea and a prayer, and Chloe''s heart went out to Milissa for it.


    She almost regretted the mean and hurtful things she''d thought about the Kyrillos girl.


    "Nothing a good long rest in the company of two such lovelies wouldn''t clear up," Lord Brise said cheerfully. "Is Lady Jaric present as Lord Kyrillos''s betrothed? We hadn''t heard."


    Chloe frowned, surprised. ¡°His betrothed? Why would you think that?¡± She supposed Petra wouldn''t have said that. Petra would have been flattered.


    Lord Brise looked just as surprised, so maybe Chloe''s slipping out of character wouldn''t cause any problems. ¡°I can see why Lord Kyrillos might make an exception to his usual policy for you, Lady Jaric,¡± he said, ¡°but scarcely without hope of reward.¡±


    His usual policy?


    ¡°Petra,¡± Milissa said quickly ¨C too quickly for Chloe to ask any more questions, and Chloe had to think it intentional ¨C, ¡°is not from the periphery. Stephan rescued her.¡±


    "What from?" Lord Brise asked.


    He sounded idly curious, and Chloe almost answered as carelessly. She checked herself at the last second. There was obviously a heck of a lot going on that Lord Brise, and Milissa, weren''t telling, but Chloe couldn''t even begin to puzzle out what it was or what she should do about it.


    She still had to answer the question, though.


    "A life of crushing monotony," she said, which was both true for Petra''s imaginary history, the sort of thing she''d say, and safely noncommittal. Chloe hoped.


    "Then he''s quite the hero, Lady Jaric," Lord Brise said.


    "May we speak with the hero?" Milissa asked. "I, and all of us, of course, have missed him so."


    "Unfortunately," Lord Brise said, "Lord Kyrillos is not in a condition to speak with you at the moment."


    Chloe waited for Milissa to respond. When the Kyrillos girl seemed unable to, Chloe asked, "What''s the matter with him?"


    "He had a bit of a run-in with our Federal friends. Nasty bit of business, and a nasty place for it, too. Fortunate for him he was giving off enough psychic turbulence for my brothers and I to hone in on. Doubly fortunate that we were closer than an Animus Hunter."


    Psychic turbulence sounded bad to Chloe''s untrained ear, but Milissa actually seemed to perk up. "Perhaps," she said, "you''d like to stay at New Kyrillopolis for a time, Lord Brise?"


    Chloe wanted to shoot her a ¡°what the heck?¡± but saw no way to get it past the nobleman watching them.


    "I''d be delighted, Lady Kyrillos, to avail myself of your company, but under the circumstances I fear it might be misinterpreted by our more¡­ zealous peers."


    "Surely a few days would do no harm, My Lord. Surely none could gainsay your motives," Milissa said, fawning like she did over Rudy. Chloe wondered why. "Surely you are above reproach."


    "You might be surprised," he said. And Principle above, he actually winked.


    Chloe was used to Rudy carrying on. He had the excuse of being young and something of a celebrity. And, though she¡¯d never admit it, good-looking enough to get away with it. Lord Brise... wasn''t. He had probably been handsome a decade ago and could be again if he lost the half of his weight that wasn''t muscle, and maybe he was a big name in aristocratic circles, but he wasn''t any kind of young.


    He wasn''t half as smooth as he seemed to think, either, because he''d given Milissa the out she''d obviously been looking for.


    "Somehow, My Lord," the Kyrillos girl said, "I shall manage to control my disappointment. A visit would no doubt bore you in any case, as Lady Jaric and I must attend to my brother during his convalescence."


    "Right you are, Lady Kyrillos," Lord Brise said. "Perhaps you can alleviate your grief by coming to my estate on Boria as soon as this foolishness between the mundanes is concluded."


    "Something much to be looked forward to," Milissa said.


    Chloe had to keep her eyes from rolling. Rudy, comfortably off to the side of the screen, didn''t bother.


    "Perhaps," Lord Brise continued, "you and your brother will see your way clear to our betrothal now that I have done you this small service, eh?"


    Lord Brise''s expression remained fixed in a mischievous grin. Chloe wondered if the sense of satisfaction she felt from him was psychic, or just her impression.


    She glanced at Milissa.


    The Kyrillos girl''s face was frozen in a polite smile. She didn''t even look at Chloe. She repeated, "Something much to be looked forward to."

 Chapter 47: Rendezvous

    Chapter 47: Rendezvous


    Welcome home, Steph, Rudy thought. Hope you''re enjoying it.


    He wasn''t being entirely sarcastic.


    Stephan Kyrillos had been unconscious when Lord Arsen Brise and his brothers delivered him to the landing pad on New Kyrillopolis. He hadn''t woken up until Lord Brise disembarked, insisted on an overlong exchange of kisses on the cheek with Milissa, and pulled himself back to his mecha with effort apparently equal to escaping New Kyrillopolis''s gravity well. Which, considering Lord Brise''s weight, was maybe pretty close to true.


    Rudy chuckled at the memory.


    Stephan had woken up almost as soon as his rescuers left. He hadn''t exactly said that the Brise brothers kept him under so they could negotiate with the more pliable Kyrillos, but he hadn''t said otherwise, either.


    He''d sure looked almost as pissed as hurt.


    "Poor baby," Rudy muttered. "Somehow, he''ll just have to content himself with Chloe fussing over him if his hot sister has to pack her bags for the big day."


    Fuss, Chloe had. Milissa, too, but unless the nobs were way more screwed up than even Otto thought, it wasn''t the same coming from a little sister.


    Hell of it was, with Stephan safely returned and his possible death no longer hanging over Chloe''s head, she had finally taken Rudy''s good-as-ever advice and relaxed. She seemed looser, calmer, than she had since he met her.


    Looser, calmer, and less in need of the company of one Rudolf Kaine Algreil.


    Rudy kicked an outlying root. His foot got the worst of the exchange. He glared up at the tree.


    It stayed stoically, infuriatingly silent.


    "Maybe I should break my foot," he mused. "If that stiff can get this kind of crowd with injuries he just imagined, the real thing would be a hell of a hit."


    "Don''t even say such a thing!"


    Rudy whirled, dropping into a fighting crouch and bouncing backwards toward the tree.


    At first, he thought Chloe had snuck up on him. Then he realized he was looking at Milissa. She''d pulled her dark curls into a ponytail like Chloe preferred when her hair was too long to hang loose without getting in her way, she''d ditched more than half her makeup, and replaced the rest with powder that made her tanned skin look closer to spacer-pale.


    "I''m sorry I startled you, Crimson Phoenix," she said. She lowered her long dark eyelashes and dipped her head in what an untrained observer would have called remorse.


    "What are you doing out here?" Rudy asked. "I thought it was supposed to be dangerous."


    "It isn''t dark yet," Milissa said.


    "Isn''t far from it." Rudy eyed the darkening sky. Since they were near the estate, he could actually see it overhead. In the deep woods, like the path from the landing pad, the canopy was so thick it could pass for a cave system.


    "Which is why," she said, stepping closer, "I was looking for you."


    "To tell me to come in before the monsters get me?"


    "Well..." Another step. "Yes. Of course."


    "Or to put the moves on me while Chloe''s fussing over your poor, injured bro?"


    "It isn''t like that," Milissa snapped. She surged forward and met him eye to eye. They were about the same height. Her stratosphere blues blazed. He hadn''t seen her so offended before.


    It made her look more like Chloe.


    "You of all people must know what it''s like, Crimson Phoenix. Stephan''s injuries, even if they weren''t real, they hurt like it, and ¨C" She bit her lip. It seemed to be habitual with her. It made her lips look fuller and redder.


    And more like Chloe''s.


    Rudy knew he should start taking her back to the estate. For one thing, if there really were large predators in the woods, they probably came out closer to dusk than night. She could get hurt.


    So could you, dumbass, a voice that sounded too much like Otto''s for comfort reminded him. And I don''t just mean by the animals.


    Otto.


    Turning on the old Algreil charm was liable to get dangerous when Milissa was turning on the Kyrillos equivalent.


    But Rudy remembered something else about the day New Kyrillopolis''s lord and master came home. Something Lord Brise had said.


    He lay a hand on Milissa''s shoulder.


    She melted into what she apparently expected to be an embrace.


    "Milissa," he said quietly, "I need to ask you something."


    "Anything, Crimson Phoenix," she whispered against his chest.


    Shit, Rudy thought, I''ve had this dream. Not here, exactly, and not with Milissa. But with who she looked too damn much like.


    Which, he thought, had to be intentional.


    Milissa might actually be a fangirl like she claimed, but she was a nob, the sister of one of the most powerful and dangerous ones alive. Alive, hell. Ever. Even if she didn''t have ten thousand angles on every move she made with that gorgeous bod pressed against him ¨C


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Rudy imagined a globe of cold water. He couldn''t remember if Otto or one of his much-loathed Fed or Oligarchical instructors had taught him this mental exercise. He''d never been very good at it. He almost imagined drinking the globe, but water was way too lame to be a regular part of his diet. Imagine drinking something with neither alcohol nor electrolytes!


    Thinking about it distracted him regardless.


    Anyway, even if Milissa didn''t have plenty of angles to go with her curves, Stephan sure as hell did.


    Let him. If an Algreil couldn''t outplot a Kyrillos something was wrong with the galaxy. More wrong than usual.


    Rudy said, "So what''s the deal with Lord Brise?"


    "Let''s not talk about him," Milissa said.


    "Let''s," Rudy said. Gently, he pushed her away. He told himself he was being polite and subtle by taking his sweet time prying her off; better start practicing in case he had to tell Chloe the same thing. "Before you say or do anything I''ll regret, I think you better tell me about him and you."


    "It''s nothing, Crimson Phoenix," Milissa said. "He''s just a pompous old fool. He and all his brothers. Even the ones younger than me are old at heart, and Principle knows they''re even worse for pompous."


    Rudy laughed. "With an opinion like that, it''s a wonder you invited him down for tea, much less to hang out here for pretty much as long as he likes."


    "I had no choice," Milissa said. "I couldn''t offend him by seeming ungrateful. Word would get around, and sooner or later someone would get the idea Stephan had been ungrateful, and where would we be then?"


    Where indeed. Rudy got the impression the nobs maintained an economy all their own. The currency was trickier to nail down, but no less binding. No less deadly when you were in debt, either.


    Since he couldn''t care less about economics, aristocratic or otherwise, he shifted tactics. "I get the impression Lord Brise thinks you''re his fiance. Or supposed to be, anyway."


    "He can think what he likes." Milissa turned her nose up and away.


    "What does Stephan think?"


    "What he likes," Milissa said. A lot quieter.


    "And you?"


    "He''d be a very favorable match, politically speaking. It would be nice to be able ¨C" Milissa bit her lip again, this time to clamp it shut. She turned away. "Well. Nothing will come of it anyway."


    "Lord Brise seems to think something will, as soon as things settle down with the mundanes." A group in which Rudy was included. He didn''t see himself as mundane, and Milissa didn''t seem to either, but the aristocratic term for non-psychics still applied.


    For now, Rudy wanted Milissa to forget that fact.


    "I''m safe for life, then," she said.


    "It''s that bad?"


    "You know how stubborn they are," she said, dismissing the whole of mundane humanity with a wave of her hand. "Once they get it into their heads to brawl about something, they quite simply won''t stop until they make a mess of everything."


    "So there is a new Civil War brewing," Rudy said.


    "Well, of course." Milissa gulped. "Oh."


    "You weren''t supposed to mention that, were you?"


    Slowly, she shook her head.


    "Stephan''s orders?"


    Milissa didn''t protest, which Rudy took as a ''yes.''


    "Which means Steph knew it before he left."


    Milissa took a halting step back. "I shouldn''t ¨C"


    Rudy caught her wrist easily. "But you''re gonna."


    "Unhand me!"


    "No."


    Milissa wilted before the word. She fell backwards against a tree and would have dislocated her wrist if Rudy hadn''t relaxed his grip enough to let her slide down.


    Chloe would have kept fighting, Rudy thought. Kept fighting and lost, sure, and gotten depressed when she realized she wasn''t a world-beater, or at least didn''t know how to be.


    Milissa didn''t look nearly so broken up over losing the argument. She just pouted.


    Rudy suppressed a sigh of relief. She was still gorgeous, still the type he''d once claimed wasn''t his but sure as hell seemed to be, still a fangirl ¨C


    ¨C but she couldn''t pass for a non-spacer version of Chloe.


    "I''m not letting go until I get some straight answers," Rudy said. "Is my brother gearing up to fight the Feds?"


    "I think he already started," Milissa said.


    "What''s your brother gonna do about it?"


    "I don''t know. Probably nothing."


    Rudy decided to believe her for the moment. Besides, Stephan wasn''t about to throw in with the Feds. Any involvement above none would help the Oligarchical cause, not hurt it. Not in the short term, at least. "This is all over Chloe?"


    Milissa nodded.


    "What the hell am I gonna do?" Rudy asked. He meant the question rhetorically.


    Milissa fingered the strap of her dress.


    "I''m not talking about ''doing'' you, Milissa," he said. "I''m talking about my brother and the Feds."


    "But there''s nothing you can do," she said. She reached for, and got, his hands. "If you go, you''ll just get killed. I ¨C I mean, the Empress, too ¨C"


    "That''s real noble of you," Rudy deadpanned. "Thinking of Chloe''s feelings."


    She pulled away like his hands had caught fire. Maybe because her ears had.


    "You''re right," she said quietly. "I''m not a very good person."


    Then she started crying.


    Don''t go to her, moron, Rudy told himself. She was faking. Obviously. She wasn''t even faking because she was a crazy fangirl who wanted him in bed. She was doing it because her asshole brother ordered her to do it.


    Obviously.


    Even if she wasn''t, why go to her? She wasn''t a good person. Maybe she needed a good cry to wrap her head around how shitty her attempt to manipulate him away from Chloe had been. Couldn''t hurt.


    Obviously.


    And he was an oligarch, not a nob. He didn''t do favors. He got equivalent exchange. Sometimes he even asked it of Chloe. What the hell would Otto say?


    What, if Milissa hadn''t made herself into a romantic rival and maybe even though she had, would Chloe say?


    Damn it.


    Rudy put an arm over Milissa''s shoulders. "Hey, I didn''t mean it that way."


    "But it''s true," Milissa sniffled.


    "Yeah," Rudy allowed.


    She looked up as if stung.


    She looked damned young right then. Some of her makeup had started to run, and it made her seem smaller and more vulnerable than if she hadn''t worn it at all. Most fangirls were young, in his experience. Most grew out of it.


    Rudy felt a sudden flash of anger toward Stephan. Milissa couldn''t be much older than Chloe and she might be younger. Weirdly, she also seemed a hell of a lot less worldly. Chloe knew too damn well all the things she was supposed to avoid to be a good spacer girl, and why. Rudy might disagree on the whys, but he understood them. Principle knew she beat them into his head often enough! Rudy was willing to bet the next time Milissa met a ''why'' that wasn''t ''I want it'' or ''Stephan wants it'' would be the first.


    Or, he thought, she''s a hell of a better manipulator than he¡¯d given her credit for.


    Either way, he figured Stephan took the blame. Who else was going to train his sister to be this way?


    "Milissa," he said.


    She blinked. "Yes, Crimson Phoenix?"


    "I''ve got just one more thing to ask you, then you''re heading home."


    "Anything," she breathed.


    Rudy looked past her and asked, "What does a bandersnatch look like?"

 Chapter 48: Quarter

    Chapter 48: Quarter


    Two fleets of Oligarchical vessels slid silently into place beside those already in formation. Jack recognized the Valhalla Vehicleworks insignia on one set of vessels. The original parts of the Mother Goose bore the same logo.


    The new vessels joined the seven Oligarchical fleets burning from Algreil Prime. In theory, the combined forces almost equaled the Federal Navy''s Second Fleet.


    In theory.


    Nobody was counting the size of the ships in the Fed fleet. If you counted by tons or guns, the Oligarchical forces looked a hell of a lot smaller.


    And outnumbered? Oh hell yeah. In mecha if not capships, the Feds would have them outnumbered three to one. Maybe more like five to one. Maybe ten. Otto kept those numbers to himself, which never meant anything good.


    Then, of course, there was the fact that the Second Fleet was two out of ten. First Fleet wouldn''t stray from Etemenos and the Federal Senate, but the rest of the Fed assets would bring the hammer down on Algreil Prime if the ''garchs somehow managed to win this first fight.


    Otto claimed they''d have Chloe by then.


    He claimed they''d have a lot more ships, too.


    He claimed they''d win this fight without them.


    He was the self-confessed best bullshitter in the galaxy.


    Jack didn''t see what Otto had to gain from getting his whole fleet ¨C hell, his whole company ¨C wiped out, but then, maybe the Oligarch didn''t think he had anything to lose, either. The Feds planned to take him down whether he fought back or not.


    "Look alive, Devil Rays." Otto''s voice, still infuriatingly confident, crackled over their com systems. "According to our projections, Second Fleet is almost in-system."


    We are so, so dead, Jack thought. "Roger, Devil Ray Leader."


    Otto was nominally in command of the whole fleet, but since he was the best mechaneer they had, he led from the front. Jack wasn''t sure who was in charge on the huge Algreil Aerospace cruiser, but it wasn''t his once-and-current boss.


    Devil Ray Leader was not actually piloting the Stingray for which his unit was so famous. Neither were his squadron leaders, Jack included. The production model Epee in which Jack sat hadn''t impressed him at the Wellach Cup. He hoped it would perform better in real combat than it had in the tournament. Still, he had to admire the thing''s power. It hummed beneath him, responding fluidly to his slightest command. In performance if not reliability, he trusted it to outperform any Fed mecha.


    Hell, it practically made him feel invincible.


    Which was maybe more dangerous than the Feds and the mecha''s own questionable coolant system combined.


    Jack knew what the nobs had done when they felt invincible. Gone and lost the Civil War.


    "Let''s give them a welcome to remember," Otto said. "All ships, flank speed. We''re attacking the Feds as they come out of their compression tunnel."


    The capital ships swept forward.


    The Devil Rays hovered around their parent vessel, dragged by its gravitic shields as if they were in the orbit of a planet. Their mecha never could have moved so fast on their own. Nonetheless, the journey seemed agonizingly long. By the time they finally neared the weirdly-distorted space that marked the Feds'' compression tunnels, Jack was sure the entire enemy fleet would have emerged.


    They hadn''t. The lying bastard of a clock wedged amidst Jack''s various tactical readouts claimed only minutes had passed.


    What had emerged were a pair of escort carriers, the only two they expected from the Reformer''s battlegroup. These disgorged a swarm of mecha to screen the advance of the remaining ships.


    It was probably suicide on the part of the carrier crews. Their shields couldn''t distort space enough to deflect a direct hit from the Oligarchical cruisers.


    As for the carriers'' mechaneers, well... sacrificing them was pretty much standard Fed doctrine. The Devil Rays were the leading element of the Oligarchical battlegroup because they were the best. The Feds followed a different practice. The mechaneers swarming into them were second-tier at best, expendable to the elites who would jump through with the larger ships.


    Jack almost felt sorry for the poor bastards.


    Okay, he did feel sorry for them.


    It didn''t stop him from returning their fire when they started to blaze at the onrushing Oligarchical fleet, or from slamming the Epee''s claws through one''s cockpit as he passed, or tossing another mecha into his wingman''s killing grasp. The Devil Rays blew through the cloud of mecha in a fraction of the time it had taken either side to reach the battlefield, hurtling toward the comparatively undefended escort carriers. No casualties, not on the Oligarchical side.


    Jack started to dip toward one of the carriers.


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    "Ignore that trash," Otto snapped. "Let the second-line units clean them up."


    "We''re gonna be surrounded," Jack said.


    "Bound to happen sooner or later."


    Jack sighed. The plan was all too typical of Otto. Since the oligarch had been right often enough to stay alive through dozens of such crazy plans, Jack followed him in.


    The Devil Rays shot past the Federal Navy front line. Jack''s rear instruments noted the explosion of one of the escort carriers. The Journeyman or one of its sister ships must have managed to put an anti-ship shell clean through the small vessel''s shields.


    Jack had no time for pity.


    In contrast to the usual Fed doctrine, the Reformer and its sister ships were the next out of their tunnels, and they were already launching mecha behind a wave of anti-mecha gunfire. Two Stingrays and an Epee blew apart before their pilots could correct for the sudden attack. Otto''s machine nearly banged into Jack''s as both men swerved away from shells that outmassed their mecha.


    "He knew we were gonna try this, Otto," Jack shouted. "Avalon knew ¨C"


    "I know," Otto said. He sounded deadly calm now. A bad sign. When Otto let himself calm down, it meant he''d really, truly lose it if he didn''t keep himself under control. "Just go with it. We''re dead if we turn around and let those guns chew us up."


    Unable to argue, Jack followed the oligarch into the second wave of Federal mecha. The rest of the surviving Devil Rays followed.


    A line of Wyverns met them, the gleaming gold of the Divine Auric Drake at their center. If Marcel Avalon had already launched, he had to be gunning for a killing blow before the Oligarchical fleets could reorganize. Most Fed commanders played it safe and relied on their superior reserves of men and equipment. Avalon was going for a big reward, but he was taking a hell of a risk, too.


    If the Devil Rays could kill him before he killed them, they might just have a chance.


    In atmosphere, in a planet''s gravity well, the Devil Rays'' Stingrays had handily beaten the Wyverns of the Federal elites. The Oligarchical mecha were some of the few that could truly call one gee ''favorable terrain,'' at least against other mecha.


    They weren''t in favorable terrain this time.


    "We aren''t in Stingrays, either," Jack muttered. Hell, if Otto''s little brother could take Marcel Avalon on in an Epee, how bad could the machine be?


    "Listen up, Devil Rays," Otto said. "Our targets are the Divine Auric Drake and the Reformer. We''re gonna slag Admiral Avalon''s flagship, and on the way, we''re gonna do the same to him. The Feds can pour all the men and material they want into this mess, but without their chain of command, they''ll be helpless. Clear?"


    A chorus of "Sir!"s answered him, Jack''s included.


    Otto made it sound possible. Maybe even plausible.


    Jack wished he didn¡¯t know better.


    His communications system buzzed. The hell? It should have automatically picked up any transmission from a friendly. He willed it active without glancing at the communications window, not wanting to take his eyes off the battle line his Epee was soaring towards.


    "Colonel Hughes, I presume," Marcel Avalon said.


    Jack was startled enough to risk a glance at the window. The Admiral''s infuriatingly handsome face, weirdly pale on one side, gazed back at him.


    "I''m glad to see the rumors were true and my men and I did not inadvertently cause your death on Wellach, Colonel."


    "Wish I could say the same," Jack said.


    He''d supposedly changed to a private channel at the com system''s prompting, but he figured Otto could still listen in. The next time the oligarch trusted anybody would be the first. Hopefully, he wouldn''t get the wrong idea. Jack didn''t look forward to having both sides shooting at him.


    "You believe I am your enemy," Avalon said.


    "The part where you kidnapped my wife and tried to kill me kinda tipped me off, yeah." Jack eased his Epee sideways to line him up with the rapidly approaching golden mecha. If Avalon wanted to distract himself with a chat, might as well take advantage of it.


    "I saved your wife, sir," Avalon said. He was either genuinely offended or one hell of a good liar. "As to our battle on Wellach, I need not remind you who it was that fired the first shot there. I never wanted to fight."


    "You sure threatened like you did," Jack said. "But I guess you were hoping we''d just hand Chloe over, huh?"


    "I hoped as much, yes."


    "Fat chance," Jack snarled. "You bastards''ll never get your hands on her."


    "Yet you would make your daughter Otto Abeir Algreil''s living weapon?"


    Jack was almost glad the lines met then and he had to focus on dodging a thrust from the lance of one of the leading Wyverns. Wasn''t like he could say with a straight face that Otto wouldn''t do that.


    Jack smashed his opponent aside with the butt of his rifle and snagged the Fed mecha''s flailing leg with the Epee''s claws. The monomolecular edges went right through the armor and the broadening composite behind them tore a trail of artificial muscle and wire loose to drift through the vacuum.


    "I am trying to help your daughter," Avalon said. "And I am trying to prevent your death."


    "You''re a ballsy liar, Avalon," Jack said. He lined himself up with the admiral again. "But you''ve got to be kidding me."


    "I am not," Avalon said. He matched Jack''s flight path, parting a wave of the smaller Wyverns as he approached. "I am asking you, on Ellie''s behalf and at her request, to stop fighting and listen to what I have to say."


    "Ellie''s ¨C!" Jack''s lip curled back in a snarl. "That''s some kinda nerve, after what you bastards did to her!"


    "Nerve or no," Avalon said, "it is on her behalf I speak. You are right: terrible things were done to her under the auspices of the Federal Senate, things that can never be made up for. Do not add her husband''s death to the list!"


    "If that''s what you''re worried about, Admiral, don''t."


    Avalon sighed, relieved or damn good at pretending to be. "You will hear me out, then?"


    Jack put a round from his mecha''s rifle through the Divine Auric Drake''s shoulder.


    "Nah," he said. "I''ll just make sure I''m not the one doing the dying."

 Chapter 49: Concentration

    Chapter 49: Concentration


    A candle flickered before Chloe''s eyes, close enough to make her face feel hot in the cool winter evening. Instinctively, she focused her attention on the flame, crossing her eyes.


    "Are you concentrating, Highness?" Stephan asked. He stood by the window, staring out at the snow and the trees. He''d been there for most of the afternoon, hardly paying attention to the training he was supposed to be giving Chloe.


    Turnabout, she supposed, was fair play.


    She mumbled, "Mm."


    "Good." Stephan didn''t turn.


    Chloe''s eyes relaxed as they adjusted to the flame. So did she.


    "Concentrate, Highness," Stephan repeated.


    Chloe sighed. "Sorry, Stephan. I don''t know what''s wrong with me this evening."


    He didn''t respond. He acted almost as distracted as Chloe felt. There was an odd tightness to his voice, as if he were only paying half attention to their conversation and training. As if something else held more of his interest.


    The minute Chloe let her thoughts wander, she lost her concentration completely.


    She wondered where Rudy was. What he was doing. Since Stephan returned, she hadn''t had much time to spend with Rudy. First making sure Stephan was all right ¨C he had risked his life for hers, after all ¨C, then, at long last, training to use her powers.


    Not that she''d learned anything so far.


    She watched Stephan light and move candles with his mind. She tried to do the same.


    She failed.


    Either he hadn''t explained the technique properly or she didn''t have the talent for it. He insisted the latter was impossible.


    Chloe was beginning to wonder.


    She wondered where Milissa was, too. Normally, the Kyrillos girl provided an audience for her training sessions. Milissa never participated, but her presence raised Chloe''s spirits anyway. Not exactly a friend, she was at least someone to talk to.


    Besides, if Milissa was watching Stephan train Chloe, she wasn''t with Rudy.


    Were they together now, Chloe wondered, talking about Rudy''s career as a tournament mechaneer? Milissa''s knowledge of and passion for the subject seemed inexhaustible.


    Chloe wished she''d thought of a word other than ''passion.''


    She gulped.


    "Concentrate," Stephan said tightly. He stretched the word thin as monofilament wire and sounded as lethal.


    Chloe blinked. She''d completely lost track of the candle.


    Suddenly annoyed, she said, "What am I supposed to be learning here, anyway?"


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    "Concentration."


    "Oh." Chloe suppressed another sigh. No point in complaining. She wanted, needed, to learn this stuff. If she didn''t, how was she supposed to rescue her parents?


    She hadn''t expected it to take so long, though! In the stories she''d read, a noble''s awakening occurred in a day, an hour. Seconds even. Once she learned to gather her powers, she just had them.


    No such luck.


    Sometimes, Chloe wondered if it wasn''t all just some cosmic mistake. Maybe her hunches were just that, her supposed powers fake, the strange story of her parents finding her nothing but a fairy tale.


    "Stephan," she said, "how long is this going to take?"


    "Until you''re ready, Highness," Stephan said.


    Chloe doubted a real princess would put up with his sharp tone. Too bad. He''d provided a haven for her and Rudy, he had fought to save them ¨C and he was her best hope to save her parents.


    "My parents are imprisoned while I sit here," Chloe said. "If I could learn just a few actual techniques, maybe ¨C"


    "You could crack open the planet they were held on trying to save them?"


    Chloe stared at the back of his head. "You''re kidding."


    "I almost wish I were, Highness."


    If Stephan weren''t just exaggerating, Chloe understood why the Feds, why everybody, hunted her. One person with the kind of destructive power an entire fleet struggled to match?


    Chloe shuddered.


    For an instant, she saw herself, or rather her birth mother''s silvery mecha, floating above the shattered ruins of a small planet. Perhaps a prison planet where undesirables were sent to die in obscurity. Die they had. Died by her hand, her mind. Died by the thousands. Somewhere amidst the ruins below lay Jack and Ellie Hughes, the victims of their daughter''s hubris.


    It wouldn''t happen like that. It couldn''t!


    "You''re growing agitated again, Highness," Stephan said. "Please try to concentrate, or this will take even longer."


    "I understand what you''re saying, Stephan," Chloe said. After a vision like that, she understood all too well. "Only, why can''t you save my parents?"


    "Doesn''t my battle with the Reformer and the Divine Auric Drake speak to the outcome of such an attempt? Awakened to and in control of your powers, you, Highness, might challenge the Federal Senate directly, but no other can."


    "Don''t challenge it directly, then," Chloe said. She rose from her chair and strode to his side, grabbing his arm. "Rudy says you control a criminal syndicate across human space. Why can''t you kidnap my parents from their kidnappers?"


    Stephan''s gaze didn''t waver from the window even then. Chloe couldn''t imagine what had him so fixated.


    "Why, Stephan?" Because you''re afraid I''ll leave, she thought. Like she could walk away from her powers now? If she simply rescued her parents and fled, she just bought them time. Not much time, either. She needed power to save them.


    She needed power for Rudy''s sake, too. He might have forgotten his demand for knowledge and power, but that didn''t mean she didn''t think he deserved both from her. He and his company lost so much because of her. She''d feel responsible for that no matter what he said.


    "These things take time," Stephan snapped. He took a deep breath. Slowly, he added, "Highness."


    Before Chloe could respond, Stephan suddenly bent forward, eyes wide, gasping. His long fingers clenched on the windowsill.


    Chloe grabbed his shoulders. His frame coiled so tense he nearly shook. "Principle, Stephan! What''s wrong?"


    He didn''t answer. From the way he ground his bared teeth, he might have lacked the ability. His back tightened even more and his legs bent like he meant to leap clean through the window.


    Chloe tried to drag him from the glass.


    Abruptly, he shook her free and spun on his heel. His long black coat flapped in his wake as he sprinted for the door.


    Chloe ran after him. "Stephan," she shouted, "what''s happening?"


    He didn''t turn or stop or even slow in the slightest. When he answered, she understood why.


    "My sister," he said, all the emotion drained from his voice, "is going to die."

 Chapter 50: Decisive Action

    Chapter 50: Decisive Action


    Jack had forgotten what real war was like.


    Watching tournaments, fending off pirate raids and even skirmishing with Fed garrisons hadn''t reminded him. Even the brief, almost unreal charge into the teeth of a Federal offensive that should have been caught by surprise had only started to jog his memories, and Avalon''s bizarre courtesy had banished them.


    Now, he remembered.


    He juked aside from a sword swipe, banged into another mecha, Fed or ''garch, he never knew and didn''t have time to check. A bullet caromed off his leg armor and hit the machine he was touching and hurled it away. He never knew if it was disabled or damaged, either. He blocked another swipe and fired his rifle into the chin of his attacker, but before he could check the results he was thrown forward by a shockwave.


    By the time he reoriented himself, two more opponents, a Wyvern and a stubby little line mecha, pounced on him. Both had lost their weapons. They pulled his rifle away and started to do the same to his arms.


    He smashed the smaller machine into the larger and grappled the latter, sinking his Epee''s claws into its chest and tearing toward its engine.


    One of his instruments beeped loud enough to remind his instincts how bad it was to stay put. He dodged and watched a Fed heavy anti-mecha shell punch clean through a Fed mecha.


    He didn''t bother trying for the shooter. Disarmed, his only chance was to stay in the crowd and use his claws.


    He didn''t lack for a crowd.


    The Epee ran hot. Damn hot. Jack''s sweat soaked his flight suit despite the nanomachines meant to process the water and feed it back into his system. He felt like he was piloting an oven. Or was he that nervous?


    Had he forgotten what real war was like?


    Or was this just that damn much bigger than the battles he¡¯d fought in the Civil War?


    For an instant, he saw a gap in the crush of mecha. The Algreil cruiser Journeyman pierced the Federal lines. Shells bigger than the Mother Goose hurtled between the massive warship and the trio of Fed destroyers headed by the Reformer. When they clipped the swarm of mecha fighting between the vessels, the machines splattered like ants hit by a human-sized bullet, but even such powerful ammunition couldn''t punch through the distorted gravity around the opposing capital ships. Near-misses flew into space or ripped through the shields of smaller ships with enough energy to blow them apart.


    The capital ship duel was almost stately, like watching moons go to war. Jack could understand, aesthetically speaking, why the Feds wanted to put their trust in warships rather than mecha.


    But he could also understand, watching the ships'' immense weapons swerve through distorted space to no visible effect, why Otto thought the Feds were wrong.


    Right or wrong, they were everywhere.


    Jack caught the flat of a monomolecular-edged sword on his wrist armor and snapped it. The shattered blade twirled silently away in the vacuum, shedding pieces of hardened composite. The Wyvern pilot who owned it reversed his grip and shoved what was left deep into the arm of Jack''s Epee.


    He grimaced, punched the Fed in the throat, and slid his claws out. The Wyvern''s head glided free almost gently, its trail of sparks the only sign of violence.


    Jack snagged the machine''s now inert arm and pried loose its boxy little automatic cannon. He hated automatics. He couldn''t unload without hitting his own guys, but at least he could spray in the general direction of someone who shot at him and pray it wasn''t by mistake.


    As if to remind him, he took two shells in the lower torso. The first glanced harmlessly off his armor, but the second punched out a hole big enough for the Epee''s arm to fit through, taking two of the mecha''s spine-like wings with it.


    "Damn," Jack muttered, twisting around to try to suppress whoever was shooting him. Another shell roared over his head. If he hadn''t moved, he''d have lost it, and his life, too. He returned fire, but he had no idea if the mecha that jerked and spun away from his shots was the one he''d been fighting.


    Damn whoever was shooting.


    Damn the Feds for coming after Chloe.


    Damn him for agreeing to fight for the Oligarchy again.


    Damn, damn, damn Otto Abeir Algreil for charging in with a crazy plan like this!


    Melee seemed pointless, exchanging fire suicidal. Mankind started using mecha to get around gravitic shields, not to throw punches and bullets like a bunch of groundling primitives.


    Half-grimacing, half-grinning, feeling more than half-mad, Jack kicked off the headless Wyvern and dove for a destroyer.


    A pair of Fed line mecha, mismatched types separated from their squadrons, tried to bar his way. He drilled both with a single wild spray, wincing as he saw a Stingray twitch toward him when a stray bullet clipped its wing. Jack shot through the gap the Feds'' evasive maneuvers left, ignoring their return fire. Only a couple of their shots even grazed his machine, and they were too small to do anything to the Epee.


    At least, he thought, without hitting the huge-ass hole in the mecha''s stomach.


    He wished he had a less active imagination.


    For a second, he broke free of the melee and got another look at the battle as a whole. He even risked a glance at his tactical window before giving it up as useless ¨C so many green Fed and red Oligarchical blips swarmed his screen, he couldn''t identify capital ships, much less mecha. Instead, he put his trust in his eyes, or at least the Epee''s cameras. Two Devil Rays had gotten through the Feds'' screening mecha and started tearing into the destroyer below. Their lashing tails had just detached a panel emblazoned with an ¡°L¡± ten times their height. The destroyer was now designated the ¡°Equa_ity.¡±


    If the Devil Rays tore their way through to its bridge, they''d go a long way toward equalizing the fleet battle.


    Jack''s grimace faded and his grin took hold. Another bullet tore into his shoulder, but it only managed to propel him faster toward the destroyer''s shields.


    He felt the distorted space even through his mecha''s inertial dampeners. His stomach lurched as he passed through an especially weird wave. His suit compressed around his legs and arms and loosened around his stomach and neck. He gagged on the bile threatening to rise in his throat, choked it back down. The wave passed and he felt suddenly light as a feather, drifting free in his straps, then another hit from a different direction and pushed him hard into his seat.


    If anybody had been able to line up a shot on him as he lurched through the shields, he''d have been a sitting duck. But the same gravitic maelstrom that tore up his innards threw off the aim of weapons with more mass than a hundred mecha. Nothing small enough to bother targeting him had a ghost of a chance of punching through the shield.


    Ironically, it was almost the safest place on the battlefield... if he ignored the fact it would pulp his innards if he stayed in it for even five minutes.


    Five minutes was probably better than the average outside the shield.


    Getting through it took only two. Two minutes of being dashed against the insides of his mecha and having his guts assume new configurations and his brain blank out from lack, then excess, of oxygen. Jack drifted through the shields and breathed again.


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    He''d never gone through shields that took even half that long to penetrate.


    Suit or no suit, he threw up.


    Thankfully, his suit knew his vital signs at least as well as he did. It rippled away from his face just in time to keep him from drowning in his own vomit, and all he managed to do was stain a few of his screens with it.


    He gasped down a breath. Even with the stale stench of his stomach''s contents and a disturbingly iron odor of blood, it was like breathing in a bouquet after the shield passage.


    He shook his head, wiped his chin, and focused on the task at hand.


    He''d come through close to the bow of the ship, half a kilometer from where he''d tried to enter. No surprise there. More surprising was that he couldn''t see the pair of Stingrays. Had they gotten inside already?


    Jack hoped like hell he hadn''t come through those shields for nothing.


    At least, he hoped not until half a Stingray flew past him, trailing sparks and uncontrolled engine exhaust. It spiraled into the shields and disappeared amidst the distorted view of the melee beyond them.


    Jack dodged instinctively. It saved his life, or at least his machine. A golden blur shot through the vacuum he''d just occupied, twisted, and twirled back toward him.


    Jack flipped neatly in the blessedly nonexistent gravity, and the Divine Auric Drake''s polearm cut the nothingness meters from the Epee''s face.


    "Heya, Admiral," Jack said.


    The black-and-gold mecha hesitated. "Colonel Hughes."


    Jack grabbed Avalon''s polearm and twisted off the blade, pulling Avalon into a perfect uppercut that would either slice his machine''s head off or slice him in half in its cockpit.


    Except that somehow, none of that happened. Avalon faded backwards, and the polearm spun, and a golden leg struck Jack in the face and crushed him into the side of the destroyer.


    "I am sorry," Avalon said. But he didn''t hesitate when he spun the polearm down and sliced one of Jack''s mecha''s legs off. The weapon twirled almost delicately in his hands and carved off part of an arm and half the Epee''s wings.


    Even without the pain receptors in Jack¡¯s neural interface shut off, it came as a shock. He couldn''t feel anything, but he could look down at ''himself'' with the mecha''s cameras and see the trailing mechanical viscera, the absences where there should have been working limbs.


    And Avalon had been so fast.


    Faster than a human on foot, and that was supposed to be perfect: 100% translation of the pilot''s impulses. Only the nobs could get that good, get perfect.


    The Divine Auric Drake was faster than perfect.


    The admiral muttered, "I am so sorry, Ellie. He killed my men. He chose ¨C" His voice sounded like it was going to break.


    Jack couldn''t bring himself to feel real sorry for the guy.


    "He chose this," Avalon spat. His polearm arced downwards.


    A red hand and a blue hand caught it in mid-swing.


    "What is it with you guys and that stupid cat?" Otto Abeir Algreil asked. His Epee, its harlequin electric blue and red paint job somehow still unmarred, shoved the polearm back and sent the Divine Auric Drake reeling.


    Jack fired what feeble thrusters he had left and rose. He might not be able to stand beside Otto, but he could still fight. Maybe.


    Marcel Avalon backed off, his polearm held behind him.


    "I hate having to keep bailing your ass out, Jack," Otto said, "but I''m pretty sure I''ll need a distraction to put this idiot down."


    "Otto, this guy is off the charts ¨C"


    "Of course," Otto said. "He was bred to be."


    "Huh?" Jack glanced at the oligarch''s smirking image on one screen, Avalon''s ashen one on another.


    "How come they didn''t flush you down the waste disposal with the rest of the garbage, Marcel?" Otto asked. "Did they miss you when they vacuumed the place? I hear stains are so hard to get out."


    "Shut up," Avalon snarled.


    "Never have in my life," Otto said. "I guess you''ll just have to make me. Shouldn''t be too much of challenge for Madame President''s born and raised ¨C excuse me, made ¨C ''genius of battle.''"


    Avalon moved faster than Jack could see. Faster, he knew, than even Otto could see. Which meant the oligarch must have predicted the attack down to the microsecond, because he caught Avalon''s polearm like Jack had tried to and sliced it in half with a click of his claws.


    Avalon''s momentum should have carried him into those claws, but his thrusters fired and he slid into a spin that clipped Otto in the legs and took them both to the hull.


    Otto ended up on top, fist raised, claws flicking out. Avalon''s golden hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.


    "You really are as good as they say," Otto said. "Madame President knows how to pick a winner. Of course, considering she shot you freaks until one managed to dodge, I guess it was a pretty harsh field test you had to ace."


    "That''s not true," Avalon roared. His mecha''s hand closed on Otto''s Epee''s wrist hard enough to snap metal and crush artificial sinew. "You''re lying!"


    "Prove it," Otto said. He couldn''t be using a neural interface, because his voice didn''t come close to wavering.


    Avalon''s suave exterior was completely shattered. He ranted like a beast, almost incoherent. All Jack could make out was snarls of "I''ll kill you!"


    Otto laughed in his face.


    "Kill you," Avalon screamed, and tore the Epee''s arm from its socket.


    The pressure on its arm abated, the admiral''s golden mecha surged forward, slammed its forehead into Otto''s machine, and pounced on him. Avalon''s fists rose and fell madly, leaving massive dents in the Epee''s composite armor. Otto''s image jerked as he slammed against his straps.


    "A freak like you could never kill me," Otto said, his words punctuated by the blows that rocked his mecha. He still sounded in control, but he sure as hell wasn''t. His eyes flicked sidelong.


    Oh.


    Jack realized what he''d been missing.


    Avalon rocketed another punch into Otto''s mecha''s crumbling chest.


    Jack drove his claws into the golden mecha''s back. Wings sheared free, then armor, then Avalon''s screams changed tenor.


    Somebody was using a neural interface, it seemed.


    Jack willed the channel to Avalon''s cockpit closed to cut off the sound. Then he tore into the Divine Auric Drake''s back. He hated the Epee. Hated fighting with claws. Felt like an animal. Hated hating feeling like an animal, because it made him think of the things Otto and the Feds said about Ellie. Hated Avalon for being a Fed. Hated Otto for being Otto.


    Jack rolled off the bisected husk of the Divine Auric Drake and collapsed on the hull of the destroyer, gasping in heat so bad his hands felt blistered from gripping his controls.


    A mecha''s shadow fell over him.


    No way Avalon could make it through that, no way no ¨C


    Otto''s Epee, one-armed and with most of its chestplate punched into its chest, reached out its remaining hand. "Took you long enough," he said.


    Jack stared at the outstretched hand. He started to reach for it.


    He stopped.


    "What the hell," he said, "was all that shit you said?"


    Otto shrugged his mecha''s shoulders. "I''ll tell you when you''re older."


    "Dammit, Otto, this ¨C"


    "Is halfway to a victory," Otto said. "Can you get that piece of junk upright?"


    "With one leg and half my thrusters?"


    "Crap. That''s going to make this display less impressive, but maybe the Feds will still see the better part of valor now that their golden boy is out for the count."


    "Is he...?"


    "Don''t know," Otto said. "I''ll step on his cockpit before we blast off from this hunk of junk."


    Jack didn''t want that, but he knew he couldn''t stop it, either. "You think we''re gonna win."


    "Avalon is their symbol. I just broadcast that symbol admitting he was a hybrid freak ¨C" Jack flinched at his once-and-current boss''s words. "¨C and getting his ass kicked by you and me. Things were maybe forty-sixty before. I''ll bet that little maneuver shifted them to fifty-fifty, and..."


    Otto looked up from the destroyer''s surface and grinned.


    More compression tunnels were disgorging ships overhead, visible even through the ant-like cloud of mecha and the distorted space of the destroyer''s shields.


    "... and," Otto said smugly, "it looks like our reinforcements are right on time."


    Jack stared up at the ship emerging from the largest of the compression tunnels. It was a true battleship, gleaming fresh and coppery and green: the colors of the Marchesses'' United Shipping Magnate. Even the battlecruisers he''d seen were dwarfed by it. It was a space station in motion and gunports and shields and mecha. Twenty smaller vessels in similar livery emerged around it.


    "That''s ¨C"


    "Alarie''s company," Otto said. "I''d say we can chock this one up for the good guys."


    Jack thought he was going to puke again. If Otto was the lesser of two evils, it wasn''t for lack of trying.


    Then a new face appeared on Jack''s main communications screen. Not Georg Marchess, as Otto expected, but Alarie herself. Jack saw Otto''s frown and matched it.


    "This is Alarie Wein Marchess," she said, her small voice ridiculously magnified by whatever com system she was using, "commanding the Marchess battleship Pacific Resolution and its battlegroup."


    The hell kind of a name for a battleship was that, Jack wondered. Peace through superior firepower, maybe.


    Alarie stared into the main screen. "All vessels and mecha," she began, her voice shaking. She paused, looked down for a second, then faced the screen again with a surprisingly nasty smile quirking up her mousy face. "Please be advised," she continued.


    Otto whispered. "Oh. No. You little ¨C"


    Jack shot the oligarch a glance. His face had gone as white as its olive complexion allowed.


    "We are here," Alarie finished, "to reinforce this police action by the Federal Navy."

 Chapter 51: Bandersnatch

    Chapter 51: Bandersnatch


    I can''t save her.


    The thought flashed through Rudy''s mind as he slammed his shoulder into the hard muscle of the bandersnatch for what seemed like the hundredth time.


    If Milissa had used whatever powers she possessed, both she and Rudy might have made it out of the woods alive.


    If they''d run in opposite directions, one of them almost certainly would have.


    If Milissa had run and Rudy stayed behind, she, at least, would have had a pretty good shot of getting home.


    But Milissa hadn''t fought. She hadn''t run.


    She''d slumped against a tree and stared and sobbed and screamed, and now she was so hoarse all she had left was staring and sobbing. She seemed to be in shock, though why it surprised her that a creature she''d warned him about should try to kill her, Rudy couldn''t guess.


    Rudy had to fight the bandersnatch to save her.


    Trouble was, he couldn''t.


    His fighting style relied on two things: humanoid bodies to shatter and urban environments to navigate. Here he had neither, and no chance.


    The bandersnatch, a full ton of muscle, looking a bit like a raccoon the size of a cave bear, swatted him aside with a paw that moved like lightning and hit about the same.


    Rudy rolled to a stop against a tree.


    By the time he got his bearings, the animal had reared back toward Milissa. It walked with a steady, shuffling gait and covered almost as much ground as Rudy could at a dead run.


    It was faster in the trees.


    Rudy couldn''t save Milissa.


    All he could do was die trying.


    He snatched up a rock and hurled it at the bandersnatch. It shifted to eye him. Its facial fur, patterned in brown, black and white into a feral parody of a smile, seemed to mock him.


    "Come here and eat me," Rudy shouted. "I got all the lean, nutritious muscle you could ask for, baby. So come and get it ¨C if you''ve got the balls!"


    Maybe the bandersnatch was female. Maybe its species didn''t have that distinction.


    Maybe it just liked tender meat better than it did healthy.


    Either way, it swayed back to Milissa and shambled toward her faster than it had any damn right to.


    Rudy ran after it. He couldn''t catch it before it caught her, so he kicked stones into his hands and pitched them as he went. It slowed him down, but it kept the bandersnatch at least confused enough not to maul the Kyrillos girl huddled before it.


    Maybe with his flight suit, he could have found a weak point, assuming the creature had a weak point. But the Kyrilloses had insisted he wear their Principle damned local clothes.


    Rudy had gone along with it to get Chloe into one of their dresses.


    He''d hardly seen her since.


    Wasn''t going to see her again.


    The bandersnatch whirled back toward him and leapt. It grabbed onto one of the trees, soaring with unbelievable grace in the New Kyrillopolis gravity, and kicked off into a leaping charge. Its ''smile'' widened into a maw bristling with gnashing fangs.


    Rudy put a stick into the maw and rolled away.


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    He wasn''t going to lose.


    Not here. Not to some dumb animal.


    Not his style.


    "Don''t you know who I am," he demanded, kicking the end of the stick and trying to drive it up into the creature''s braincase. It didn''t budge, but Rudy was too pissed to care.


    "I''m the Principle-damned Crimson Phoenix," he shouted.


    He took flight. Lower gravity, better leaping. He kicked off the tree beside him, spun, came down with both legs on the stick.


    It broke.


    Rudy''s fall didn''t.


    He hit the ground hard enough to knock the air out of him. Before he could roll away, a paw crushed his chest, pinning him. With a toss of its head, the bandersnatch rent the rest of the stick, spit half out and swallowed the rest.


    "Hope you choke," Rudy spat.


    It didn''t.


    What kind of luck was that?


    The bandersnatch bent down and almost daintily bit a chunk from Rudy''s chest.


    He threw his head back and howled, kicked against the implacable chest, jabbed feebly at the paw that gripped him.


    What the hell was Milissa doing? She was supposed to be a nob, wasn''t she? She was supposed to have powers!


    The bandersnatch gulped down its morsel and bent bloody, slavering jaws back for more.


    Rudy thrust one arm toward the jaws and flailed the other back. His fingers closed over a rock. He jabbed it into the bandersnatch''s flaring nose.


    The beast reared onto its hind legs.


    Rudy rolled away before it crashed back down, but he couldn''t dodge the backswing of its snarling head. He felt skin and shirt rip in the half second before he was sent flying.


    The shirt!


    He skidded to a stop and tore the cloth from his back, wrapping one of its sleeves around his arm and holding the other. Adrenaline and fear drove out the cold and the pain from his chest and his bruised body. Or maybe he was going into shock.


    The bandersnatch charged again, but this time Rudy was waiting. He shifted his feet at the last second and brought the wrapped cloth down over the beast''s head like a hood.


    It seemed like a better idea before the bandersnatch bowled through his attack and knocked him into the air. It screeched as the shirt wrapped around its stubby snout. Blinded, it rammed into a tree, bounced off and kept running, thrashing its head to try to dislodge the shirt.


    Rudy flailed behind it. He had to kick off the ground and its flank to keep from being trampled. The cloth was sturdy, but he could feel its seams tearing. It wouldn''t hold long.


    He tried to haul himself up. He didn''t think he could break the bandersnatch''s neck, but nothing else leaped to mind.


    It didn''t matter. He didn''t have the strength to clamber up the animal''s side.


    He was starting to feel the cold, too.


    Colder than the New Kyrillopolis autumn should have been.


    He swallowed a curse. Blood loss kicking in already? As soon as his adrenaline rush ended, he was dead meat, literally. So was Milissa, unless she''d finally gotten it through her head to run that pretty little ass of hers away. He couldn''t even glance to see, and he had no idea which way the bandersnatch had run.


    Assuming it hunted by sight, he could at least hope it didn''t, either.


    It rammed into a tree again, scraping the bark along its side. Rudy saw the trunk coming, but he had no time to roll away. All he could do was kick off the ground and get his uninjured, or less injured, side facing the tree.


    He grunted when it hit and slammed him so hard into the bandersnatch''s body he could feel its layer of protective fat squish.


    The creature skidded to a stop. With one last wrench of its head, it tore through the remains of Rudy''s shirt.


    He fell, broken, beaten.


    Milissa lay a few meters away, not even sobbing anymore, just staring into space and trembling.


    So much for the bandersnatch not knowing which way it had run.


    Rudy tried to pry himself up. "You wanna," he mumbled to the animal, but he could hardly hear his own voice, and it seemed intent on Milissa. Easier prey, and it was probably the type of hunter that injured its food and let it bleed out so it fought less.


    And damn, it was cold.


    Rudy tried to be proud to have inconvenienced the beast, but his impending death and Milissa''s horrified expression didn''t exactly make him feel good about himself.


    He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Which was probably for the best.


    Heh. Maybe he''d freeze to death before it ate him alive. Small favors, right?


    Why the hell was it so cold? No way he''d lost that much blood.


    The bandersnatch coiled and leaped at Milissa.


    Something glistening and crystalline met it in midair, punched through its throat in a mass of white and red, and hurled its shuddering corpse to the snow beside Rudy.


    He stared at the animal. It had died before it hit the ground. The icicle that killed it was already melting, but it was still thicker at the base than the bandersnatch''s neck.


    Slowly, Rudy looked up.


    The first person he saw was Chloe. She''d run forward and knelt beside him, looking frantically between him and Milissa and the dead bandersnatch as if unsure who needed the most help. She stared at Rudy''s wound and Milissa''s face and Rudy''s absent shirt and Milissa''s torn dress and the bloody animal beside them.


    The second person Rudy saw was Stephan Kyrillos.


    The Black Rook stood behind his sister, palm outstretched, frost glistening on the fingers of his black glove. A second, unnecessary icicle fell from the air in front of him.

 Chapter 52: Guidance

    Chapter 52: Guidance


    Chloe pictured Rudy in her mind''s eye.


    His arm was bandaged and slathered with nanopaste and he had dark circles under his eyes and his shirt was off, showing hard, lean muscles that seemed so much more noticeable without his familiar red flight suit. Since all she was trying to do was sense him, she imagined the plainest surroundings she could rather than the rich wood, leather and velvet he probably sat amidst. She wondered if that would make the viewing more difficult.


    As she thought, however, the scene did change to a definite, and familiar, location.


    The bandersnatch''s body lay frozen at Rudy''s image''s feet, half-covered in snow. More snow surrounded him, even though he seemed unperturbed by the cold on his bare flesh. He stood in the woods once more, red-haired, red-smeared and half-naked, like some kind of groundling barbarian. Or perhaps one of those barbarians'' gods of trickery and war.


    At first, Chloe thought she''d succeeded and was seeing Rudy as he actually was, but no, it was half imagination, half memory. A mix of fear and resentment and other feelings she didn''t want to face associated Rudy with the woods of New Kyrillopolis.


    She blinked away the view and her mental picture was back in his flight suit and back in the void she''d first pictured him in.


    She was no closer to seeing anything outside her imagination.


    "This doesn''t seem right," Chloe said.


    Stephan stood behind her on the balcony. She didn''t dare open her eyes when he answered. She had to at least look focused. "What do you mean, Highness? You wanted to check on Mr. Algreil''s condition, despite all assurances that he and my sister are quite fine ¨C moreso than last week, perhaps less than next, but quite fine ¨C and you want to learn to use your powers. This accomplishes both."


    "What if he''s busy, though?" Or showering or dressing? Chloe fought back a blush.


    "I''m sure he won''t mind."


    Stephan was probably right.


    Chloe still felt embarrassed, voyeuristic. She should have asked Rudy to help by being her test subject. He surely would have agreed. He''d just as surely forgive her. He''d probably ask if she''d liked the view, and then she''d lose the fight against her blush and probably snap at him, too.


    At the moment, she found herself about to laugh. She clamped her jaws tightly shut.


    Why feel bad about something that wouldn''t happen anyway?


    She''d tried three times to view Rudy remotely. The third had not been the charm. Neither had the first or second.


    The fourth wouldn''t be, either.


    Chloe kept trying because Stephan insisted, because she owed her host that much and because she retained at least a little hope. And, ultimately, because she didn''t know what else to do.


    She scrunched her eyes shut, braced herself against the railing, and took a long, deep breath. The crisp afternoon air reminded her of the woods outside the estate. Rudy and Milissa had nearly died there.


    Together.


    Chloe''s grip on the railing tightened.


    It wasn''t like that.


    Rudy had lost his shirt in the fight. Milissa had torn her dress the same way.


    They''d been together in the woods, a three minute run from earshot even with Chloe and Stephan''s long legs, because¡­


    Stephan sighed behind her. "You''re too tense, Highness," he said. His long fingers closed over her shoulders. She''d seen them suck the heat from the air fast enough to kill a gigantic predator, but now they felt warm and surprisingly gentle. Somewhere along the line, he''d dispensed with his usual gloves. "You can''t focus your power unless you relax and let it flow through you."


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    "Sorry," Chloe said. She glanced over her shoulder. "I haven''t been much of a pupil, have I?"


    Stephan shrugged. "You have so much to forget before you can even hope to learn. It''s not your fault you didn''t start training until you were far past the ideal age."


    "How old should I have been?"


    "For these earliest lessons?" Stephan smiled down at her. "You shouldn''t have been born yet."


    Then why wasn''t I trained, Chloe wondered. She''d been with her birth mother until she was five or six years old. Presumably, she hadn''t been trained for the same reason she didn''t remember a thing about her life before waking on the Mother Goose.


    She didn''t know why that was, either.


    She didn''t want to think about it.


    Stephan''s gentle massage and his rare smile relaxed her, let her exhale, let her forget.


    What she really needed was to remember.


    "How do you teach an unborn baby, Stephan?" Chloe asked. She peeked up into the face still smiling down at her.


    He said, "Telepathically. An aristocratic mother does it almost without prompting. Her mind nurtures her child''s as her body does, just by the use of her powers."


    "Huh." Chloe tried to picture the sort of telepathic conversations a mother could have with her unborn child. Her understanding of telepathy could at best be described as spotty. She knew plenty more about pregnancy, but only in the abstract. Most spacer girls her age would have assisted their mothers in childbirth if they hadn''t already married and had kids themselves, but because of her familial arrangements she had only academic knowledge of the subject.


    All she could imagine was a baby thinking how the arrangements were altogether too wet, and mightn''t the inertial dampeners be improved?


    As much to stifle an inappropriate giggle as anything else, she said, "Why don''t you teach me telepathically?"


    "For the same reason I don''t teach you anything destructive. If I were to go into your mind to wake your powers, I might not survive the experience."


    Chloe winced. "I wish I didn''t have that kind of power. People just suspecting I might has been nothing but trouble for everyone who''s ever done me any good."


    "Your power is not a curse, Highness."


    "It could sure pass for one. From what you''re saying, just teaching me puts you and maybe your whole estate at risk."


    "A risk we are all willing to take, considering what you can achieve."


    Stephan, Chloe knew, was not referring to rescuing her parents.


    She didn''t like to think about what her noble ¨C but also, Rudy''s voice reminded her, criminal ¨C host planned for her powers. She figured he''d let her rescue her parents. Anything else would put her on too hostile a footing with him. After that, though?


    Did Stephan see her as a person who needed help and could repay her debts? As the monarch he addressed her as, to whom he owed fealty?


    Or as a weapon?


    His surprisingly gentle touch said ''person,'' but she knew how skillfully he lied.


    She pulled away.


    "Highness," Stephan said, "if you don''t want to learn, I neither can nor will force you to do so."


    "I have to," Chloe whispered. Even obliquely thinking of her family drew all her thoughts to them. Her dad would be itching to pick a fight with somebody, anybody, all nerves and anger and fear over her. Even more nervous and mad because he thought he couldn''t show the fear to her mom, even though her mom would know it and share it, and share the rest, too. They''d want to save her, but for once she needed to save them.


    She needed the power, pure and simple.


    "I have to," she repeated, louder this time. She turned to face Stephan. He wore a grim smile. Maybe he''d wanted to push her thoughts down this path. Maybe he had, more directly than with his words.


    She didn''t even care.


    "Forget seeing Rudy," Chloe said. "I''ll see my parents."


    Stephan raised an eyebrow. "Distance is no object to remote viewing, save in your mind, but for someone new to the practice, it may make things more difficult."


    "I don''t care," Chloe said. She balled her fists and closed her eyes and calmed herself. She felt more confident and concentrated than ever before. This was just a hunch she could control, nothing more, nothing less.


    She didn''t know where to look.


    She didn''t know if that mattered.


    She asked Stephan.


    "It doesn''t, technically," he said, "but it may help your mind to focus."


    "Do you know where they are now?"


    "My sources have yet to pinpoint your adoptive mother''s location," Stephan said. "Your adoptive father may still be on Algreil Prime, although he''s probably left by now."


    "I''ll start with Algreil Prime, then," Chloe said. The image of the world appeared to her. She''d never seen it in person, but she knew from her father''s stories how it looked, all swirling red and blue like a planetary-scale logo for the company that called it home.


    Her eyes shot open.


    She said, "Algreil Prime?"

 Chapter 53: Short, Victorious War

    Chapter 53: Short, Victorious War


    Ellie watched the Reformer''s battlegroup break off as the destroyer slid toward the docking bay. The crowd surrounding her cheered. Fireworks exploded around the Federal Navy vessels and their Oligarchical allies. Mecha ringed the capital ships, polished and gleaming like giant dress uniforms.


    Ellie doubted most of the crowd even noticed the lightless, lifeless prize ships tethered between the Fed vessels.


    She had heard the news already, of course. One couldn''t walk Etemenos''s seemingly endless shifting corridors without knowing of the Federal Navy''s glorious victory. News broadcasts provided round-the-clock coverage, a mix of interviews Ellie supposed were scripted and battle footage she knew to be edited. Live footage of a battle would have been incomprehensible to a layman and potentially bad for morale.


    Ellie hadn''t seen an interview with Admiral Marcel Avalon. Or, obviously, with Jack Hughes.


    Avalon''s name, at least, was everywhere. He got half the credit for the victory, the Marchess family and company got the rest.


    So why was the stuffy, condescending Georg Marchess the most common interviewee, his shy, fidgety daughter Alarie second ¨C and Avalon, a figure cut for broadcast media if ever there was one, nowhere to be seen?


    Ellie wondered if the admiral was dead.


    She had reason to hope Jack wasn''t. The news reports crowed about the minimization of casualties on both sides, a testament to not just the skill but the mercy of the Federal Navy. Jack was a great pilot, one of the best she¡¯d ever seen. Yet he wasn¡¯t so cocky as to put his pride above his survival.


    Surely he''d lived through the brief, hard fighting before the Marchess ships'' arrival broke the Oligarchical fleet.


    Surely!


    Of course, if Avalon had died in the battle, Jack''s survival might not matter. He was a captured rebel officer, and unless he had friends in high places ¨C unless, perhaps, Ellie had friends in high places ¨C, he would probably be executed as one.


    Ellie wondered if President Ferrill would see her without Avalon to escort her.


    She almost laughed at the thought. Even if the President of the Senate wanted to make time for a rebel''s hybrid wife, her staff would never permit it. Ellie might have gotten a meeting ¨C but she would never get an appointment.


    She had to pray Avalon was alive as well as Jack if she was to have any hope of keeping the latter that way.


    Not that she wouldn''t have prayed for both men¡¯s safety anyway.


    The fireworks and cheers did nothing to brighten her mood. They were too loud for her felid ears and, as far as she was concerned, too bright for anyone¡¯s eyes. She drifted away from the window and sat down.


    She had no idea why the marines flanking the wide airlock between Etemenos''s core and the Reformer allowed her to come into the waiting room, or why they allowed her to stay.


    They probably thought she was someone''s servant. A hybrid wouldn''t have chosen to come here of her own accord, would she?


    Though, unlike in the Civil War, it wasn¡¯t as though she should have had any allies on either side. The Oligarchy was anything but a friend to hybrids. They had created Ellie¡¯s ancestors as cheap, expendable labor. Otto Algreil had given her no reason to believe he repudiated that custom.


    Was that better or worse than the Federal Senate, who kept hybrids suppressed because it wasn¡¯t politically expedient to help them?


    It didn¡¯t matter.


    Jack had fought for the Oligarchy. His loss was Ellie¡¯s.


    All she could do was wait and hope that it wouldn¡¯t be the last mistake he made.


    After minutes that felt like hours, the Reformer reached the docking bay and its airlocks hissed their way into connection with the dozens of airlocks along it. Although Ellie had tried to return to the same dock she¡¯d disembarked at, she had no way of knowing if this was the right one to see Avalon.


    She had no idea if he would disembark at all. If he was even still alive.


    She sat and waited anyway.


    Sailors, marines, mechaneers and officers of all three branches of the Federal Navy poured through the airlock, ten abreast. Here the crowd parted to let them pass, there surged forward as sweethearts and families rushed to welcome home their loved ones.


    Ellie hung her head and tried to feel happy for them.


    The crowd swelled with the addition of the men from the Reformer, then thinned as they passed through and took their loved ones with them. Some of the troops had haunted expressions, a few were injured, but on the whole they seemed nearly as happy as the crowd they were joining.


    The benefits of a short, victorious war, Ellie thought.


    She didn''t even try to be happy about that, though she was hardly sure she''d wanted the Feds to lose to Otto Algreil.


    Ellie waited more than an hour after the Reformer docked. Finally, the flow of men from the ship dried up and took the crowd with them. Only a handful of people, mostly teenagers who seemed more interested in the Reformer itself than its crew, remained.


    Ellie sighed, squared her shoulders and rose.


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    Avalon had either used another airlock or none at all.


    One of the marines guarding the door turned his armored head when she stood. "Ellie Hughes?"


    She froze. "Yes?"


    "Your presence is required aboard the Reformer." The marine cocked his head. Someone, presumably a superior, must have given him an order through his armor''s communications system. "Yes, sir. Understood, sir." To Ellie, he said, "Belay the previous order. You are to wait here."


    Was that good or bad, Ellie wondered. Probably good. She didn''t think they''d execute someone, even a hybrid, in the middle of the docking bay.


    One of the marines strode over to stand behind her. So she was under guard? Maybe being ordered to wait was bad after all.


    It looked a great deal worse when the other marine ordered the few lingering civilians to depart. They didn''t hesitate. The only ones who remained were obviously fans of the Federal Navy, and even if they hadn''t been, the marine''s tone left no doubt that he was authorized to remove them if they didn''t choose to leave.


    Ellie didn''t blame them for not wanting to be kicked out by a man in that miniature-mecha armor, especially if the kick might be literal.


    These marines didn''t seem especially hostile, at least. The ones on the Reformer itself had worn their resentment on their armored sleeves.


    She wasn''t an enemy or a problem to these men, just another job.


    She was too tired of trying to puzzle out people''s motives to decide if that was a positive sign. She sat back down, idly smoothed her hair and ears and, once again, waited.


    Only a few minutes passed before the airlock doors opened on the Reformer''s end. Ellie caught a glimpse of platinum hair before the airlock''s walls blocked the view from her angle. She breathed a sigh of relief.


    Marcel Avalon emerged from the airlock almost two minutes later.


    He was walking again, but not well. He limped on the leg Stephan Kyrillos had injured, but his face looked, if possible, even more ashen than it had when she''d first seen him after that battle. He walked more stiffly than his injuries seemed to justify.


    Ellie rose to go to him. The marine at her back let her. Apparently, he had his orders.


    She reached Avalon''s side and braced him, although he weighed enough to have bowled her over if he was actually in danger of falling.


    "Welcome back," she said.


    He managed the beginnings of a wan smile, but it never reached his amber eyes and faded almost before it appeared. He said simply, "Ellie."


    "Are you all right?"


    "Yes."


    She wanted to ask about Jack, found she couldn''t bear to.


    "Your husband lives," Avalon said.


    Ellie heaved another sigh, deeper and fuller than the last. She would have wrapped her arms around Avalon and crushed him to her, except she was afraid she might hurt him, and Principle knew that was the furthest thing from her mind in that moment.


    "Thank you," she whispered. She found she was crying. "Thank you so much."


    "You have no reason to thank me," Avalon said.


    Ellie blinked her tears back. "What?"


    "He refused parley." Avalon shook his head. "He and his master Algreil played me for a fool and defeated me."


    "But you won!"


    "The Federal Navy won." Avalon straightened up and started walking again. "I ¨C did not."


    "I don''t understand," Ellie said.


    Avalon didn''t try to explain.


    The marines saluted as he approached them. The one who had addressed Ellie said, "Do you require an escort, Adm¡­ sir?"


    Ellie glanced between Avalon and the marine.


    The admiral wore the same white and green dress uniform he had when he''d left, but its markings had changed. The only ones left were those of the Federal Navy and the Divine Auric Drake. His Second Fleet, Reformer and rank insignia were gone, the fabric beneath them starched taut by the adhesive that had held them.


    "No thank you, Sergeant," Avalon said. "I appreciate the offer, but you''ve already done more than you probably should have."


    "Sir." Both marines snapped their salutes to their sides.


    Avalon returned their salutes and strode past as best his injuries allowed.


    He didn''t speak as they left the waiting room, nor as they walked down the silent, silver hallways of Etemenos''s core. It could not be silent, not with the life of a world-city buzzing all around them, but Ellie felt like she was going deaf for lack of sound.


    At last, she said, "Admiral ¨C Marcel. What happened to you?"


    Avalon seemed to deflate at the sound of her voice. He slumped against one of the walls, which automatically formed a bench from its reactive gel surface. "I told you, Ellie. The navy won. I did not."


    "You should be a hero before the Federal Senate," Ellie said. "Shouldn''t you?"


    "You need not fear on that account," Avalon said. "I am sure they will congratulate me extensively on my... retirement." He gritted his teeth as he spoke the word.


    "Why would they want you to retire?"


    "Otto Algreil knew who, what, I am."


    "Oh." Ellie took a step back. "Oh."


    "There will be no publicity of what he broadcast during the battle, nor of my response. It will be stricken from the record as ''enemy propaganda.'' I will be given a medal and congratulations."


    "And retired," Ellie said.


    Avalon nodded.


    "Marcel... would you have lost the battle if the Marchesses hadn''t shown up then?"


    He nodded again.


    Of course. The Federal Navy could not be expected to fight under the command of a mere hybrid.


    "I lost control," Avalon said. "Algreil knew my buttons and pushed them perfectly. I deserve to lose my command, for how easily he manipulated me if nothing else. Whether he could have done the same to another man, I do not know, but ¨C hah. Listen to me. Another man? I overstep my bounds."


    "You do nothing of the sort." Ellie''s words came out as more of a snarl, far fiercer than she''d intended. Avalon looked up as if stung.


    "I am sorry, Ellie," he said. "Everything President Ferrill and I wanted from the battle came to pass. The Oligarchical rebels are defeated, casualties were minimized, and your husband lives. For the moment."


    Ellie drew in a breath.


    "I have no influence now," Avalon said. "I cannot intercede on Jack Hughes''s behalf."


    "President Ferrill will still listen to you," Ellie said. "Won''t she?"


    "Ah, but will her ear matter?" Avalon shook his head. "President Ferrill has been outmaneuvered. The Senate will pay lip service to my heroism. Then, in closed session, they will use the revelation of my past to destroy her. The Marchesses will undoubtedly assist. Their much-vaunted patriotism already landed them control of Algreil Aerospace. If they but play to the proper figures in the Senate, they will be subcontracted to manage the nationalization of half the oligarchy."


    Ellie found Avalon''s depression contagious. "Jack will be executed," she said hollowly.


    Avalon nodded.


    "There must be some way we can save him," she said.


    "I¡¯ll try," Avalon said.


    Ellie thought back to the other plans he and Ferrill had shared with her. She trusted their good will toward her and Jack, as far as it went. It was harder to believe they had her daughter¡¯s interests at heart.


    Now it might not matter. She said, "And Chloe...?"


    "I go even now to speak to the President." Avalon averted his eyes. "You are welcome to accompany me, but I cannot counsel hope."

 Chapter 54: Manipulation

    Chapter 54: Manipulation


    The door to Rudy''s quarters slid open almost silently.


    Almost.


    He was at the doorway, fight or flight reaction in full effect and a light dose of adrenaline from the exercises he''d been working on pumping through his veins. He could have easily taken an attacker to the ground and pinned him or snapped his neck in the seconds it would have taken said attacker to bring a gun to bear.


    No attacker stood in the doorway, though. At least, not the kind who planned on shooting him.


    "My apologies," Milissa said quietly. "I, um, didn''t know your door was unlocked."


    It wasn''t, Rudy thought.


    "Actually, that''s not true," she said. "Is it?"


    Rudy shook his head.


    "The doors recognize my DNA and unlock. I... I knew you..."


    Rudy put a hand on his hip and leaned against the door frame, blocking Milissa''s entry. "Didn''t want to see you?"


    "Yes."


    "You''re right." He reached for the still-visible edge of the door. It should have closed and locked again at his touch. It didn''t. "You''re keeping it open."


    "Yes," Milissa repeated.


    "Don''t." Since he couldn''t close the door without physically throwing Milissa out and couldn''t stop her from reopening it even then, he stalked away.


    The door slid shut a moment later. Unfortunately, he could still hear Milissa''s breathing in the room.


    "Get out," Rudy said.


    "Crimson Phoenix, I need to talk to you."


    "That makes one of us."


    "Please!" She reached for his arm.


    He slid it away with a subtle twist. Unfortunately, ''it'' was on the side of his body the bandersnatch had bit a chunk out of, and subtle or no, he''d moved it in ways the injury disliked. He felt it itching under the nanopaste and grimaced.


    "You''re still hurt," Milissa said.


    "No shit." Rudy glared at her. "You need to leave. Now. I am not an idiot and I know why you''re here. I''ll tell you and you can tell your brother, I''m not buying what you''re selling. Cheap meat''s got no flavor."


    Milissa shrank back like he''d slapped her. It did sound like the kind of line Otto would throw at Alarie, Rudy thought, except Alarie usually didn''t seem to deserve it and Otto probably would have come up with something nastier.


    The comparison almost made Rudy feel bad about saying it.


    Almost.


    Milissa was biting her lip. Typical. In the dim lighting, he couldn''t be sure, but he thought he saw tears welling up in her stratosphere blues.


    Rudy wondered if she really felt like bursting into tears or if it was part of the act.


    Either way, it was Stephan''s fault.


    Rudy understood what Lord Kyrillos wanted. A wedge between him and Chloe, the better to pick her up on the rebound. Maybe he actually liked her and was just a manipulative bastard, or, more likely, he wanted her title and her powers. Milissa was supposed to get Rudy out of the way.


    She''d done a damn good job so far.


    Dammit, it wasn''t fair. For once in his life, he''d actually been good! Not that anyone would know it from the way Chloe acted. She seemed convinced Rudy and Milissa had snuck out to the woods together. It probably did look that way.


    "I came," Milissa said stiffly, "to apologize."


    "Needed, accepted, and done," Rudy said. "Now you can go."


    "You don''t even know what for."


    "For trying to seduce me so Steph would have a clear shot at Clo," Rudy said.


    "It isn''t..." Milissa''s shoulders slumped. Her voice got even smaller. "Isn''t just that."


    "What else?"


    "I called it."


    Rudy cocked an eyebrow. "It?"


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    "I''ve always been good with animals," Milissa said, seemingly ignoring his question. She sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands. "Better than with people. I''m nervous doing it to people, they''re too complicated. Stephan does them so well, too, and it''s hard to live up to that."


    "Milissa." Rudy took her by the shoulders and forced her to look up at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"


    "I called the bandersnatch that hurt you," she said flatly. "I reached out and found its mind and brought it to us."


    He stared. "Why would you possibly do that?"


    "Because I thought if you thought you saved me, you''d like me. I thought that''s why you liked Her Highness so much, why you..." She laughed. Not happily. "It was... pretty stupid, I suppose. Petty. Wrong. Awful."


    "Try ''crazy.'' What if I hadn''t been able to save you, huh?" Which, in point of fact, he hadn''t.


    "It wasn''t supposed to be like that," Milissa said. "I just wanted it to come and roar at us and you''d grab me and run or maybe think you scared it off. Then I''d send it away and find it some nice food to make up for using it."


    "You thought it would go for that deal?"


    "It... shouldn''t exactly have had a choice."


    Principle! Unless Milissa was crazy or lying ¨C well, crazier than he already knew she was ¨C, she had some serious power in that pretty, vapid little head.


    "I didn''t mean for anybody to get hurt." She reached up and brushed her fingers against his bandage. "Or, or ¨C"


    She sobbed.


    "I killed it," she whispered. "Stephan did, I mean, but it was my fault. You got hurt and it got killed and it''s my fault."


    "That''s why you were so shocked that night," Rudy said. "Because you lost control."


    She nodded miserably.


    "What went wrong?" he asked, horrified and fascinated and, though he didn''t want to admit it, more than a little scared. Milissa claimed her brother could control people as she thought she could animals. If that was true...


    He felt a chill down his spine.


    "I don''t know," she sobbed. She leaned forward and pressed against him and wept. "Merciful Principle, I don''t know!"


    "Milissa¡­" Rudy''s hand shifted up to her dark tangles. He wished he could say something to make her feel better, but the only thing he could think of was liable to make things a hell of a lot worse.


    If Milissa was confident enough in her powers to call a man-eating predator and be shocked when she couldn''t send it packing, she couldn''t have just failed.


    Somebody had to have countered her.


    Rudy knew only one person who could do it, at least on New Kyrillopolis.


    The estate world''s lord and master.


    Rudy saw the plan as clearly as if he''d drawn it up himself. Or maybe as if Otto had. It was cold-blooded and damned effective enough to be one of the elder Algreil''s schemes.


    Milissa calls a bandersnatch, or thinks she does. Maybe it''s not even her own idea. Hell, maybe neither of them were out in the woods because of their own ideas. Rudy had thought he was getting away from the fuss Chloe and Milissa made over Stephan, but it looked pretty stupid in retrospect. Could he trust that it had been his thoughts leading him out there?


    Probably. It wouldn''t be the first time he''d done something unwise. Besides, he''d received the anti-telepathy training all members of the Oligarchical families got. A nob as powerful as Stephan might be able to break through, but Rudy didn''t think it would be easy or subtle.


    It didn''t much matter. Stephan could have concocted his scheme on the fly.


    Milissa calls the bandersnatch, Rudy thought again. It arrives, and all of a sudden her power fails her, shuts off completely.


    If Rudy runs away and leaves her to die, Stephan turns the animal around and walks it back into the woods, or maybe the animal mauls Milissa a bit and then Stephan comes riding in like the Principle-damned cavalry to save her. Chloe in tow. Rudy ends up looking like the galaxy''s yellowest coward, the kind of man who would leave a helpless girl to be eaten alive, and Chloe never speaks to him again. Stephan looks like a hero.


    Mission accomplished.


    If Rudy stays, though, so does the bandersnatch. It kills Rudy. Mission accomplished.


    But ¨C and this was the part that made Rudy shudder ¨C it probably kills Milissa, too.


    Chloe would be heartbroken over Rudy''s death, of course, but she would also feel terrible for poor, bereaved Stephan. Terrible enough to comfort and be comforted by him.


    Mission damn well accomplished.


    What was a little sister weighed against the power and authority of the imperial line?


    Maybe Stephan wasn''t that cold. Maybe all he''d planned was to ride in and save the day, Rudy''s actions be damned. He''d shown Rudy as powerless, and with Chloe desperate to help her parents, that looked almost as bad as spineless. Without sacrificing anything of Milissa but her feelings.


    He''d also had an excuse to show Chloe that Rudy and Milissa were together, alone and away from the estate.


    No matter what happened with the bandersnatch, it would have gone Stephan''s way. The differences were only of degree.


    Rudy looked down at Milissa. She was still crying and hugging him. Her face was pressed to his chest. His bare chest, because he''d been exercising in only a pair of the estate-world''s wool trousers.


    He was pretty sure he believed Milissa''s sobs, and her sob story. He couldn''t bring himself to believe she was playing him for a fool.


    Maybe he was right.


    Maybe she had him pegged and he did have a thing for damsels in distress.


    His reason for believing Milissa counted for exactly squat. What Milissa thought or wanted or did was just as irrelevant. She wasn''t the one pulling the strings.


    Oh crap.


    Rudy''s hands tightened on her shoulders. He pushed her away. She fell backwards onto her seat. Which was also his bed.


    Oh. Crap.


    She looked up, startled and hurt.


    A gasp from the doorway distracted her and Rudy alike.


    Chloe stood there, one hand at her throat, the other balled into a white-knuckled fist, staring.


    Milissa coughed out a little choking sound. Her arms fell to her sides.


    Rudy took a step toward Chloe. She was still apparently too furious to speak, so he strode to her side. "It''s not what it looks like."


    She stared at him. Her jaw worked silently.


    "It''s not, Chloe," Rudy said. He reached for her. He''d explain. She''d listen.


    She slapped his hand away. Coldly, she whispered, "I am so damn sick of your lies, Algreil."

 Chapter 55: Principles

    Chapter 55: Principles


    "Please wait a moment, Admiral Avalon," Ferrill''s secretary said. "President Ferrill is in a meeting."


    "Thank you, Miss Langley,¡± Avalon said quietly. A faint smile, the first Ellie had seen since his return, crossed his face. Because Ferrill''s secretary had used his title, she realized. The smile didn''t entirely fade even when, with a wince, he folded himself into one of the chairs formed from the office''s walls.


    Ellie joined him, eying his injured leg and trying to hide her frown.


    They hadn''t had to wait before. It could just be a coincidence, of course, but surely Ferrill had known Avalon was coming. The Reformer and its sister ships had done three laps around Etemenos''s core during their parade.


    The secretary''s posture bothered Ellie, too. She had greeted Avalon warmly, even with a hybrid at his side. Now she seemed nervous. Ellie could smell the cold sweat on her palms.


    Fear.


    Ellie wrinkled her nose and tried not to think about it.


    Instead, she fixed her eyes, and her nose, on the bowl of flowers decorating the table she and Avalon sat beside. She wondered how they grew flowers on Etemenos. Artificially, she supposed, but the results smelled real to her.


    The doors to President Ferrill''s office opened and an armored figure stepped through. His garb looked like a mecha, just as the marines'' did, but whereas theirs aped the boxy line mecha, this man''s looked almost organic.


    Ellie recognized the armor immediately. It was twin to the mecha its wearer piloted. Since the wearer carried his helmet under one arm, she recognized his face, as well.


    He turned to Ellie and Avalon and offered the same bland, insincere smile she''d seen when this whole nightmare began.


    "Animus Hunter Zelph," Avalon said.


    "Mr. Avalon," Zelph answered. "And Mrs. Ellie Hughes. I trust you''ll be more cooperative now than the last time we spoke."


    Ellie would sooner tear the man''s throat out than answer him.


    Admittedly, she would have loved to tear his throat out.


    Avalon stood. He and Zelph were of a height. "My command is suspended and my rank pending review," he said, "but I am yet an admiral of the Federal Navy and will be addressed as such."


    "You are a disgrace, Mr. Avalon," Zelph said.


    "I am not the one committing insubordination."


    "I would not be your subordinate even if you were the admiral of the Second Fleet," Zelph said. "Mr. Avalon."


    "The Animus Hunters are under the umbrella of the Federal Navy, and I outrank you. It remains insubordination, Zelph, and it would please me to no end for my last act as an admiral to be your censure."


    "That''s where you''re wrong," Zelph said. "You do not outrank me."


    "Do the Animus Hunters set themselves above the navy now?"


    "Not at all." Zelph''s smile widened. "The Grand Admiral of the Unified Federal Defense Forces, however, clearly outranks one of his fleet admirals. Which, Mr. Avalon, means you are, however briefly, my subordinate."


    Ellie smelt fear on Avalon now, too, an unfamiliar scent. President Ferrill''s secretary was practically swimming in it.


    "That is preposterous," Avalon snapped. "An Animus Hunter made the Grand Admiral? Your order has no hierarchy, no chain of command! No man in uniform could be less prepared for the post. President Ferrill would never agree to such an insult to the other branches of the military."


    "I''m afraid it''s true, Marcel." Ferrill herself stepped from her office. "Grand Admiral Zelph, if your business here is concluded, I would appreciate a chance to speak to Admiral Avalon and Mrs. Hughes."


    "Of course, Madame President," Zelph said. He inclined his head to Ferrill, then strode to the door. He paused as it slid open, glanced back at Avalon. "I will await your report when your business here is concluded ¨C Mr. Avalon."


    Avalon''s hands coiled into fists. He looked altogether too ready to strike a superior officer.


    Ellie caught his nearer arm.


    The door closed behind Zelph.


    Avalon spun to face Ferrill. "Madame President, what is the meaning of this?"


    "In my office, Marcel," Ferrill said. She sighed. "We have... a great deal to discuss. Mrs. Hughes may come as well, as some of it concerns her family."


    "Ma''am." Ellie echoed Avalon''s acknowledgment. They walked side by side into Ferrill''s office. The door slid shut behind them, cutting off the sounds and smells of the waiting room. Ellie was glad to be rid of them.


    "Have a seat," Ferrill said, waving to two chairs set before her desk. She settled into the one behind it and leaned back, rubbing her temples.


    She didn''t seem inclined to speak, and Avalon didn''t seem to want to press her further.


    Ellie had run out of patience. "Ma''am," she said, "what''s going on?"


    "A great many things, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said, "most quite bad."


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    "And the rest?"


    Ferrill smiled thinly. "The rest are worse."


    Ellie expected no less. "That man, that Animus Hunter ¨C he was the one who threatened Jack and Chloe and I back in the Prentice system. Him becoming Grand Admiral seems like ''worse.''"


    "Errard Zelph is one of the founders of the Animus Hunter Corps and its most powerful member," Ferrill said. "He is a hero of the people and the Federal Senate and personally slew the Emperor at the Battle of Etemenos. While the Animus Hunters have no formal hierarchy, he stands foremost among them. If any member of their brotherhood were to be elevated to such a position ¨C why, a reasonable person could hardly gainsay Zelph."


    Ferrill''s sarcastic, tired tone told Ellie the president considered herself less than reasonable in this regard.


    "What happened to Grand Admiral Osterheim?" Avalon asked.


    "He stepped down the day Second Fleet left for the Algreil system," Ferrill said. "As you may know, he is a second cousin of the President of Valhalla Vehicleworks and felt it was inappropriate to remain at his post under the circumstances."


    "Conflict of interest," Ellie said.


    "Oh, yes," Ferrill said. "The interests of the people and the interests of certain members of the Senate, in this case, but a conflict all the same."


    "And Admiral Cargill?" Avalon asked. "Surely the commander of First Fleet would be the logical choice."


    "I fear, he, too, has uncomfortable connections. His wife is an aristocrat, you know. The Senate considered this, too, a conflict, although Animus Hunter Zelph was so generous as to testify before the Senate that he had personally assured she was taking the proper Limiters."


    Ellie''s lip curled. "He''s a real humanitarian, all right."


    Ferrill snorted. "You, Marcel, would of course be the next in line. You lack seniority, but Second Fleet is the most prestigious command of all. Not lightly is it called the Hand of the People, as you recently demonstrated. You were, you''ll be happy to know, the front-runner for the position. When news of Algreil''s surrender first reached Etemenos, why, some of our most fervent opponents in the Senate actually raised the motion for your elevation."


    Avalon stared into space.


    "I''m sorry, Marcel," Ferrill said.


    "It is I who should apologize." Avalon slumped forward in his chair. "If I had laughed off Otto Algreil''s accusations, none of this would have happened. I have failed you, Ma''am."


    "Nonsense," Ferrill said harshly. Her voice softened immediately. "You did your best. I never have and never will ask more than that."


    "Even though my best proved insufficient?"


    Ferrill had no answer.


    Ellie found this silence even more uncomfortable than the last. "I don''t understand, Ma''am. Even if the admirals of First and Second Fleet weren''t acceptable to the Senate, that leaves eight others."


    "And the General of the Federal Marines," Ferrill said, nodding. "Animus Hunter Zelph''s elevation was not just due to Marcel''s disgrace. With the Oligarchical rebels suppressed, the Senate wanted someone whose experience lay in fighting aristocrats."


    "They plan to reconquer the periphery?" Avalon asked.


    "They believe the inverse is about to happen," Ferrill said. "The aristocracy has their Heir."


    Ellie gasped. "Chloe!"


    "Precisely. The Senate will not care that you describe her as a reasonable, gentle and good-hearted girl. If anything, that description will terrify them. A good heart may quickly overwhelm gentleness and reason in the face of gross injustice."


    "They want an Animus Hunter in charge because they think he can kill my daughter," Ellie said, mouth dry.


    "They want this Animus Hunter in charge," Ferrill said, "because their estimation of his capabilities is accurate."


    "Merciful Principle," Ellie whispered.


    "I''m afraid not, Mrs. Hughes. It is hubris of the worst sort to ascribe concepts like mercy to the Almighty Principle. Whatever part humanity plays in Its grand design is as incomprehensible to us as any other part of It." Ferrill, it seemed, was anything but a Theist.


    Or maybe she was just stressed. The last year had not inclined Ellie to a belief in an involved and merciful creator, either.


    "Ma''am," she said, "you have to let me and Jack go to Chloe. We have to warn her. At best, she may even be able to do something about all this!"


    Not that Ellie would encourage her daughter to lend a hand to the senate. She''d tell Chloe to run as far and as fast as possible.


    Chloe might try to help anyway.


    "I''m afraid that''s not possible, Mrs. Hughes."


    Ellie blinked. "Ma''am?"


    "You are free to seek your daughter," Ferrill said, "though travel to the Periphery is anything but safe at the moment. Your husband, on the other hand, is under arrest for, among other crimes, high treason. He was Otto Algreil''s chief lieutenant and an officer of the rebellion."


    "You''re saying you can''t pardon Jack," Ellie said.


    "I am saying, Mrs. Hughes, that I won''t."


    Ellie''s eyes widened. "But it was all ¨C"


    "A misunderstanding," Ferrill said. "Yes, I''m aware of that. A deeply unfortunate, even tragic, misunderstanding, that placed a good man on a bad side and made an enemy of one who should have been a fast friend."


    "Then why won''t you pardon him?"


    "Because he''s guilty, dammit!"


    Ellie drew back, startled.


    "Jack Hughes," Ferrill continued, "has no more excuse for his actions than any of dozens of other rebel officers. Why should he alone be spared? Because he happened to find and adopt the Heir?"


    "Because he''s a good man! He doesn''t deserve this!"


    "But many good men have undoubtedly died already over this matter. Others are sure to follow. I do not fool myself that every oligarch and Oligarchical officer who sided with Otto Algreil is a greedy, grasping monster. Even Algreil himself anchored his schemes to legitimate grievances. Do those other good men deserve death?"


    "Of course not," Ellie said.


    "Would you have me pardon them all?"


    "Isn''t that justice?"


    "No, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said. "That is judgment. Mine, or in this case yours. Justice comes from adhering to the law. It is bigger than our opinions."


    "Then I could give a damn about your justice! He''s my husband, he''s Chloe''s father, he''s a good man, and you drove him to fight you!" Ellie sprang from her chair. Avalon reached up to grab her sleeve, but she thrust his hand away.


    "Your husband''s fate," Ferrill said, completely unperturbed by Ellie''s outburst, "will be determined by a jury of his peers. The same as any other accused criminal."


    "A jury? They couldn''t possibly understand the circumstances," Ellie said. "Or were you planning on declassifying everything that led to Jack siding with the Algreils?"


    "No, Mrs. Hughes, I was not."


    "Then you''re killing him as surely as you sit here," Ellie said.


    "And I am truly sorry to have to do so, Mrs. Hughes. You''re probably correct, both about my responsibility and your husband''s character. Nonetheless, I will not pardon him and I will not release secrets of potentially galactic import for his sake."


    Ellie stared at the president, seeking some sign of remorse. Even cruelty would at least have been understandable. She found nothing.


    Ferrill was either the best actress in the world or completely committed to her principles.


    "You will see justice done, Ma''am," Ellie said at last.


    Ferrill started to nod until her gaze met Ellie''s.


    "You''ll see it," Ellie continued, "when my daughter destroys you, and your Senate, and your precious law."

 Chapter 56: The Truth Hurts

    Chapter 56: The Truth Hurts


    Snow fell on Chloe''s face. Wind tangled her hair. Cold bit her fingers.


    She noticed none of it.


    Stephan had explained everything as he knew it.


    The Feds had not kidnapped Jack and Ellie Hughes. The Algreils had, and left the Mother Goose to confuse the crew of the Reformer when it followed them.


    Stephan had seen Chloe''s parents in the Algreil box at the Wellach Cup. He''d been only fifty meters from them. Chloe herself could have walked to where they were held any time during the tournament.


    Or she could have been invited in as a guest.


    Her dad wasn''t a prisoner. He was fighting ¨C for her sake, presumably, and her mom''s, because the Feds had gotten Ellie eventually and Principle alone knew what they would do to her. Chloe''s mom had been captured because she was at the Algreil compound on Wellach, and that meant Chloe had been within running distance of her parents again. It also meant her mom had been captured because Otto Algreil hadn''t moved on from the planet.


    Because he didn''t have who he was looking for. Who everyone seemed to be looking for.


    Chloe''s dad was fighting alongside Rudy''s brother.


    Rudy had known. He must have. How could he not have?


    And he''d never said a word.


    One of Otto Algreil''s plots? Stephan said as much, but it made no sense to Chloe.


    She wished she could say nothing made sense. But it did. Oh, Principle, did it ever.


    Not at first, of course. Chloe had called Stephan a liar and run from the room where he was supposed to be training her.


    Run to Rudy.


    And Milissa.


    Chloe doubted she''d ever forget that image. Rudy standing beside his bed, bare-chested, hands on Milissa''s shoulders, while she nuzzled her face on his chest and ¨C


    And the look on Rudy''s face when she called him by his last name. She didn''t have to say another word to know he knew exactly what she was talking about.


    The worst part of all was, she even understood why.


    If Chloe were reunited with her parents, her protective spacer parents, she would never, ever relent to Rudy''s all-too-charming self.


    "Let the world go to hell," Chloe muttered, "brothers and fathers and mothers and friends go to hell, but by the Almighty Principle, Rudolf Kaine Algreil will get the girl!"


    Rudy hadn''t come after her. If he had, she might have awakened to her powers after all. If she did, she didn''t think she could control them.


    It was so damned petty. So lame!


    A sinister plot, at least she could respect. She''d still feel used and duped and wronged, but she could respect that.


    Rudy wasn''t capable of plots. He just wanted to get her in bed.


    And now he had Milissa instead. He''d claimed Chloe wasn''t his type. So why did he go nuts for the first willing girl who looked anything like her?


    Another damn stupid lie.


    Another damn stupid lie she was damn stupid enough to believe.


    Her tears didn''t even fall when she slumped over the rail. They just froze to her face.


    A soft, quavering voice broke through the haze of snow and misery Chloe had surrounded herself with. "Highness?"


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    "Hello, Milissa," Chloe said, and her voice was as frigid as her surroundings.


    She heard snow and skirts rustling behind her.


    She turned.


    Milissa had prostrated herself on the balcony, face pressed to the snowy stone, arms outstretched, back heaving. "Highness," she sobbed, "please forgive me."


    For a moment, Chloe''s vision flashed red. This little cheat was enough to sate the mighty Crimson Phoenix? That man very nearly had a princess of the Astroykos Dynasty and he settled for this?


    Chloe recoiled from her thoughts, horrified her brain could even produce them.


    Rudy deserved her hate. She deserved it herself, maybe even moreso.


    Milissa, if anything, deserved her thanks.


    Chloe knelt beside the Kyrillos girl and lifted her face from the snow. She was almost cherry-red from the cold. "I have no reason to forgive you, Milissa," Chloe said gently.


    Milissa crumpled as if Chloe had slapped her.


    Bad choice of words.


    Chloe grabbed Milissa''s arms and lifted them both to their feet. Stiffly, she hugged the Kyrillos girl. "I mean, I have reason to thank you."


    Milissa went even stiffer than Chloe was. "W-what?"


    "Stephan told me that... that person lied to me," Chloe said. "But I didn''t believe him. You showed me."


    Milissa shook her head frantically. "That''s not how it was, Highness! The Crimson Phoenix ¨C Rudy ¨C he would never ¨C"


    "Did he send you out here?"


    "He doesn''t know," Milissa said. "I slipped away. Slunk away like the thief I am while he was out of the room."


    "Milissa," Chloe said, "I appreciate your trying to spare my feelings, but it does me no favors whatsoever. If you really want to ''make it up to me,'' don''t make the mistake I was going to."


    Milissa reached up to brush a finger along the line of frozen tears running down Chloe''s cheek. She stared into Chloe''s eyes, and Chloe saw nothing but abject misery in hers.


    They could have been mirrors.


    "I''m so sorry," Milissa repeated. She said it like she was standing over a grave, and looked ashen enough to belong in one. She stumbled out of Chloe''s hug and to the doorway. She acted drunk, or in pain. Maybe she was drunk. She nearly slipped on the snow, but caught herself on the doorframe without her eyes ever leaving Chloe''s. She started to slide down it. Chloe knew she should rush to help, but she couldn''t break the gaze.


    A shadow appeared behind Milissa and braced her.


    "That''s enough, Mili," Stephan said as his face emerged into the light. He sounded gentler than Chloe had ever heard him. "You shouldn''t have had to do this."


    Milissa looked up at him. Chloe hated how relieved she felt when the Kyrillos girl''s eyes left hers.


    "Go to your room," Stephan said. "I''ll be with you in a few minutes."


    "Stephan," Milissa began, "tell ¨C"


    Stephan kissed his sister''s forehead and breathed a ¡°shush¡± against her trembling form. "Go to your room, Mili," he repeated, his whisper quiet enough Chloe could barely hear.


    Milissa embraced her brother and clung to him for a long moment, then, slowly, pulled her arms away and straightened up. She started to turn to Chloe, quickly averted her gaze. She all but ran down the hallway.


    When she was gone, Stephan said, "You shouldn''t have run off like that, Highness."


    "You''re wrong, Stephan," Chloe said. "I had to know, and now I do. If it had been his word against yours, you''d have lost."


    Stephan nodded. "There were other ways to learn the truth. Less painful ways. If I''d known you didn''t know the Algreils had your parents, I probably wouldn''t have told you."


    "Thank the Principle for your ignorance," Chloe said. "It''s better this way."


    "Milissa would say otherwise."


    "If we''re lucky, maybe I saved Milissa from making the same mistake I almost did." Chloe hated the coldness of her voice. She sounded like Stephan usually did, and he sounded warm and comforting.


    "There were better ways for her to find out, too," Stephan said.


    Chloe didn''t answer. She was running out of hate, and when that well dried up, she wasn''t sure she''d have anything left.


    "What do you want done with Algreil?" Stephan asked.


    Chloe didn''t answer.


    "Shall I have him removed? Or do it myself, if you prefer a formal duel? Certainly he has given ample cause."


    "Don''t hurt him," Chloe said quietly.


    Stephan raised an eyebrow.


    "He may have done it for all the wrong reasons," she said, "but he did save my life a couple of times. And even if it was a big lie, there were times, lots of times, he made me happy."


    Chloe tried to imagine being happy again. She tried to imagine any of the people, places or things that had ever made her happy coming back into her life.


    She couldn''t.


    What hadn''t been a lie was lost, probably forever.


    "Just send him away. Safe, but away." A spark of anger flickered in Chloe''s eyes again and she almost managed to smile. "Send him back to his company. Principle knows he did them more wrong than anyone."


    Stephan did smile at that. "You can be a very dangerous young woman, Highness."


    For her parents'' sake, she hoped so.


    If she managed to rescue them, she hoped they''d recognize the daughter they raised.


    Chloe wasn''t sure she did.

 Chapter 57: A Pacific Pattern

    Chapter 57: A Pacific Pattern


    Rudy watched the Kyrillos men-at-arms and servants and family ¨C and Chloe ¨C file into the dark semicircular viewing chamber. No one invited him in, but no one challenged his presence outside the door, either.


    No one had challenged him, not even spoken a word to him, since Chloe walked in on him and Milissa. It was like some bizarre dream, like everyone around him was a ghost. Or like he was.


    It was colder than the New Kyrillopolis winter and nastier than a blood-mad bandersnatch.


    He wasn''t being entirely truthful. Milissa had tried to talk, but he wasn''t about to listen to her. Even she''d given up after the third time he''d told her to.


    He tried to meet Chloe''s eyes as she passed him. Her mouth fixed in a tight little line when she looked at him, but for all the reaction in her stratosphere blues, she might have been exchanging glances with a perfect stranger.


    He''d have rather had her hate than... nothing.


    Chloe passed through the door at Stephan''s side.


    Milissa was next. She hesitated as she passed Rudy, glanced up at him. "You can come in," she whispered. Then she rushed after her brother.


    Rudy didn''t feel like wandering the halls alone while they did whatever they got up to in there. He''d feel even more like a ghost. Besides, he was curious. He''d never seen the whole household assembled at once before.


    The estate''s occupants didn''t come close to filling the room, but they did their best, spreading into the concentric semicircles of chairs in front of a wall-spanning screen. Kyrilloses and Chloe took the bottom level, Slava and the senior men-at-arms sat above them, lower-ranking retainers and the handful of civilian servants in the upper rings.


    Rudy wondered what the occasion was.


    Probably Stephan announcing his engagement, he thought with a scowl. After that crap with Milissa and whatever Stephan told Chloe about Otto and her parents, he had to have her wrapped all the way around his little finger.


    Not that Rudy expected Stephan to wait for a little thing like Chloe¡¯s agreement before he announced what was gonna happen.


    Rudy slipped in among the senior men-at-arms. The mechaneers didn''t seem to know what his status with the household was. Those who seemed inclined to bar his progress, he elbowed out of the way. He took the chair offset behind Chloe''s and Stephan''s.


    Chloe didn''t even glance over her shoulder. Stephan did, but even Rudy had to credit him for the skill with which he hid his smirk.


    "If everyone will please take a seat," Stephan said. "All of you need to pay close attention to what you''re about to see."


    Rudy rolled his eyes.


    "Quinn," Stephan said, "play the transmission."


    Transmission? Apparently Steph wasn''t announcing any wedding plans.


    Rudy wondered if the nobs had decided to throw their hats in with the Oligarchy after all. The thought of kicking Fed ass gave him the closest thing to a smile he''d had in a month.


    But instead of the seal of one of the surviving aristocratic naval commanders or the logo of Algreil Aerospace, the screen displayed the Ouroboros blazon of the Federal Senate: a golden serpent in the shape of an infinity symbol, devouring its tail against a dark green field.


    Rudy gripped the arms of his chair to keep from surging from it. From the commotion around him, most of the Kyrillos men shared his confusion. Even Chloe and Milissa looked suddenly to Stephan.


    Stephan let the transmission answer the unspoken questions.


    The Ouroboros dissolved into a wide-angle shot of the Federal Senate chamber. A hollow sphere big enough to be a small moon, its bottom half filled by an amphitheater where each ''seat'' was an enclosed senatorial box bigger than a transport. Thin strands of nanopaste formed walkways to a central sphere, the office of Rhetta Ferrill, President of the Federal Senate.


    As Rudy watched, the boxes'' domed roofs unfolded, shunting invisibly into the senate chamber''s reactive gel structure.


    The camera focused on the central sphere. The lower boxes only folded back enough to show the senators and aides on the top floors. President Ferrill''s opened almost entirely, displaying a dozen layers. The president herself sat behind her wooden desk on the uppermost floor, Marcel Avalon standing at one shoulder and a balding man in a gray-green groundling-style suit at the other.


    It took Rudy a moment to recognize the latter as Georg Marchess, Oligarch of the United Shipping Magnate.


    Otto''s father-in-law.


    The hell?


    Another, quieter commotion rippled through the Kyrillos chamber. Aside from Stephan and Quinn, who''d obviously seen this already, only Slava and a couple of the communications men seemed to know who Georg was.


    Had the Oligarchy already won?


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Rudy figured not, seeing as how the on-screen Georg Marchess dipped his head to Ferrill and stepped back, same as Marcel.


    The President of the Federal Senate rose and faced the camera. Rudy had met her at the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Etemenos, though he''d been just a kid and she, the Junior Senator from the Raypoint system. At the time, she¡¯d all but disappeared into the crowd of politicos. Despite her position and the camera¡¯s focus, she still seemed to. She seemed far too small, too unassuming, to be the focal point of a galaxy.


    She¡¯d been too small, too unassuming, for her political opponents to block her ascension. How many times had she been the compromise candidate? How many politicians had figured they could use her as a disposable springboard for their own careers and ended up fodder for hers?


    Ferrill raised a hand for silence. Rudy hadn''t even noticed the applause until she muted it.


    "Ladies and gentlemen of the Senate," she said, "citizens of the Federated Stars. I come before you today with joyous news for the peace and equality of our galaxy."


    Ferrill''s harsh Raypoint accent hid behind a bland Etemenos patois. Rudy wasn''t sure if the traces of colonial twang she permitted were her natural tones or an affectation. She''d spoken the same way a decade before.


    He liked the contents of her speech even less than the delivery. He had a bad feeling he knew what she intended to say.


    "One week ago," Ferrill said, sweeping her right hand dramatically as a holographic display appeared before her, "Operation: Equalization, the Federal Navy''s suppression of the traitorous Oligarchs, concluded principle hostilities."


    Rudy''s mouth went dry.


    Within the Senatorial hologram, capital ships whirled their stately dance through deep space, lit by explosions and the reflected glow of some distant star.


    "Admiral Marcel Avalon outmaneuvered the insurgents and dealt them a crippling blow, and the assistance of loyal citizens who flew to his aid ensured that his strike would not be in vain." Ferrill nodded first to Marcel, then to Georg Marchess. ¡°Justice would have prevailed in any case, but thanks to Chairman Marchess''s patriotism, victory did not have to carry a terrible toll. Both these men deserve the gratitude of all who fought in Operation: Equalization, even their foes.¡±


    That son of a bitch!


    Rudy could understand why the Marchess family would want to stab Otto in the back. Otto''s treatment of Alarie, sure ¨C but more than that, they probably stood to control Algreil Aerospace.


    Dammit!


    Rudy dragged his gaze from Georg Marchess''s smirking face. He looked to the lower tiers of the presidential sphere. They had also unfolded, and although neither the lights nor the camera focused on them, Rudy could make out at least two of the people shackled by the nanomachines of the floor.


    One was a tall, burly blonde man, lantern-jawed, broken-nosed, muscular beneath a red and blue flight suit. The other, shorter and leaner, strawberry-blonde and olive-skinned and wearing a matching suit.


    Jack Hughes and Otto Algreil.


    Dammit!


    "Due to our swift and overwhelming victory," Ferrill was saying, "more than eighty percent of the vessels in the rebel fleet were taken intact, their crews unharmed. These men have committed no crime greater than doing their jobs. I am glad they did not lose their lives in war and will fight to ensure they lose nothing in peace.¡±


    Rudy could see Chloe straighten up at Ferrill''s words. He could imagine the hope trying to etch a smile onto her face.


    It near to broke his heart, because he could see exactly where Ferrill was leading.


    ¡°With this in mind,¡± she said, ¡°I have asked the Senate to approve an extension to the Treaty of Etemenos war crimes stipulations.¡±


    Rudy winced even though he''d expected it.


    ¡°As the treaty extended blanket amnesty to liegemen fighting for the aristocracy,¡± Ferrill said, ¡°so too do I believe we should show mercy to enlisted employees and junior officers now.


    ¡°As for the driving forces of this insurgency, however...¡±


    As she spoke, the military hologram faded, and light played on the levels below hers. Over a hundred Oligarchical officers advanced, no doubt at the command of unseen captors. Mechaneer aces and capital ship skippers. Rudy recognized most of them. Former colleagues, former rivals. Not to mention nine full-fledged oligarchs.


    The camera zoomed in on them.


    Chloe gasped as the view panned over her father. Stephan reached over to squeeze her shoulder, but she shrank from him and into her chair.


    Ferrill''s voice overlaid the slow pan over Oligarchs, their commanders and their aces. "I can think of no better demonstration of the fairness and justice of our great nation than to try these men, who attempted to place themselves above their fellow citizens with money and power, in the same manner we would any ordinary criminals.


    ¡°But these are no ordinary criminals,¡± she continued. ¡°They stand accused of high crimes, the highest we have, and even this does not encompass the full import of their actions. Treason we know, and the sedition and conspiracy leading up to it. Too, they might stand for murder if we were so inclined to charge them, for surely the deaths in this senseless war are due to their ambitions.¡±


    Rudy could''ve punched the smarmy bitch. Maybe you forgot about the part where you started it, Madame President.


    Or had she?


    Shit, was she right, at least as far as Otto was concerned? It wasn''t like Rudy hadn''t heard how bad the Feds were from his brother often enough to tune out the message. And Rudy needed no one to tell him that Otto was less than a stand-up guy.


    Didn''t change the fact that Errard Zelph had been sniffing after Chloe, though. If he hadn''t, none of the fighting would have happened, or at least wouldn''t have happened yet.


    Otto might have picked the battlefield. He hadn''t started the fight.


    "Perhaps," Ferrill said, "you will find it within yourselves to show mercy on some of these men. If that is your judgment under the law, it speaks to the generosity I know you possess. Nonetheless, generosity must be tempered with prudence, mercy with justice. You will have ample time to consider the matter, as those whose peers find them guilty of high treason will pay for this most heinous of crimes following the conclusion of the Etemenos Cup."


    Four months, Rudy thought. Why the delay? It wasn''t like the Feds were waiting long enough to pretend the trials would be fair or impartial or even necessary. Hell, everyone knew the Oligarchical prisoners had fought against the Federal Navy. Did the delay tie into Ferrill''s politicking somehow?


    "People of the Federated Stars," Ferrill said, as the camera returned to her podium, "you may ¨C no, you must ¨C enjoy the tradition of the Etemenos Cup as ever you would. Enjoy it secure in the knowledge that no one will take your right to do so, secure in the knowledge that the will of the people has again triumphed over the forces of tyranny and privilege, secure, above all else, in the peace and equality of our galaxy.


    "Thank you, and may the Principle grant a pacific pattern to your days."

 Chapter 58: Enclosure

    Chapter 58: Enclosure


    Jack and Otto shared a cell. It wasn''t like Etemenos lacked the space for individual prisoner berths, so Jack figured it was some bureaucrat''s way of making his last days even more unpleasant.


    If so, it hadn''t exactly succeeded.


    For Otto to piss Jack off, he''d have to do something.


    Jack glanced at the oligarch. Otto didn''t react. He stared at the door of their cell like his mind had stopped working.


    Maybe it had.


    "Otto," Jack said.


    Otto''s eyes closed. He didn''t give any other response.


    "Dammit, what''s wrong with you?"


    Jack had to take it back. He could get just as pissed at Otto even if the Oligarch kept his trap shut.


    "Snap out of it, man!" Jack strode over and loomed above the cot where Otto sat. Jack was taller to begin with. In the close confines of the room, the Oligarch looked almost shrunken. "They''re gonna shoot our asses if we don''t do something."


    "Fry," Otto said.


    "Huh?"


    "The Feds execute with electricity. Cheaper."


    "I don''t give a damn if they plan to tickle us to death," Jack snapped. "What are we gonna do about it?"


    Otto was back to the silent treatment.


    "It''s because of Alarie," Jack said, "isn''t it?"


    Otto still didn''t speak, but his hands, which had hung limp, curled up.


    "You can''t wrap your head around the idea that she finally got sick of your bullshit. Or maybe around the idea that hers turned out to be better."


    "I told you before, Jack. Mine and Alarie''s relationship is none of your business."


    "That''s funny. Seems to me it became my business about the time she turned a battleship''s cannon on me. Or on you, at least, and us standing close enough I''d have taken the hit either way."


    "It was just business," Otto said.


    "She gets the company, you get electrocuted? Maybe you better get out of the business world, old buddy, ''cause that''s no deal you ought to take."


    "She and her dad get time in the sun. And stabbed in the back when the Feds don''t need them anymore. Idiots." Otto couldn''t even manage a vengeful smile.


    Jack wondered if the Oligarch was injured. Maybe in the head.


    Maybe he was having a bad reaction to the Limiters they''d both been injected with.


    Before Jack could ask, he heard Etemenos''s nanomechanical walls flow open behind him. He turned to see a quartet of men in the light green body armor of the city''s police standing outside his and Otto''s cell.


    Jack figured the Feds had finally come to interrogate Otto. No one had bothered up to this point. Why, when there was no Oligarchical rebellion left or even enough men and material to recreate it? The only people who had that kind of resources now were the Marchesses, and they were working hand in glove with the Feds.


    The Feds hadn''t come for Otto, though. When the cell''s bars flowed away, one of the green-armored men approached Jack. "Mr. Hughes?"


    Jack glanced at Otto, but the oligarch didn''t even look up. Jack said, "Like you don''t know it''s me?"


    The Fed scowled. "You will come with us now."


    "Mind if I freshen up a little, first? I''d hate to get interrogated looking like I just got out of bed, you know? Kinda bad for the image ¨C"


    "You are not being interrogated."


    Jack had no idea how he kept a grin frozen on his face. He could think of only one alternative to ''interrogated,'' and it was a hell of a lot more final.


    "You will come with us," the Fed repeated, "now."


    Jack didn''t exactly have a choice. Or the energy to keep up his quips. He wasn''t sure he wanted to learn what he could from these guys, considering what it was almost sure to be.


    He strode from the cell and let the Feds surround him. The bars reformed at his back, locking Otto in. Not that the oligarch had even glanced at the opening.


    I''m getting marched off to get shot ¨C fried, anyway ¨C, Jack thought, and here I''m worrying about Otto''s health. Hell of a thing.


    The Feds led Jack to the end of the cellblock, through an airlock-looking doorway and into an empty, boxy chamber made from the nanomechanical walls. There was enough room for the four of them to flank Jack. Barely.


    Jack didn''t feel the box moving, but he figured it must be. Etemenos was millions of times too big to walk around. People jogged down its hallways that flowed like rivers, but all it accomplished was to keep them from getting disoriented. Prisoners, and their guards, apparently didn''t rate that courtesy.


    One wall of the box eventually melted away to reveal another room. A table and benches grew out of the floor and harsh white lights blazed overhead. The room was too big for its furniture and too small for its lighting.


    On a world-city where everything could be exactly the right size, this room''s designer deliberately got its proportions wrong. It seemed worse than the same kind of room built from conventional materials.


    It also seemed like an interrogation chamber.


    "I thought you guys said I wasn''t gonna be interrogated," Jack said.


    The Fed who''d spoken before answered. "You''re not. Sit down."


    "Mind if I stretch my ¨C"


    "Yes."


    Asshole, Jack thought. But he sat.


    He expected the chair to grow restraints, but the Feds apparently trusted their Limiters to keep him under control. Too bad their trust was probably well-placed.


    Besides, where could he run? If he alerted the guards, they could just have the room close up and squish him inside.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    He gulped at the thought.


    Maybe Otto was wrong about how the Feds handled executions.


    His minders didn''t make him feel any more confident when all four of them marched to one of the walls and stepped through the door it turned into.


    Jack sat alone in the unnerving room for about a minute before the opposite wall opened.


    A Fed, maybe the same one he''d talked to earlier or maybe another who''d learned to give orders from the same voice coach, said, "Ten minutes."


    Jack looked up.


    His eyes widened.


    He was out of his chair and across the room before the nanomachines of the wall had finished closing, but he never gave diving through them a moment''s thought.


    He swept Ellie into his arms and pulled her tight against him.


    Her first minute was up before either of them moved.


    Finally, Ellie pulled back to look up at him. She blinked tears from her eyes and whispered his name.


    "Hiya, Hon," he said hoarsely.


    Her second minute was their first kiss in too damn long.


    Jack broke it, though Principle knew he didn''t want to. He stepped back and looked her up and down, drinking in the sight of her ¨C and looking for hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked.


    She nodded. Shakily, she said, "You?"


    "Locked up with Otto, but aside from that they haven''t done me any harm."


    He managed to startle a laugh from her, and his weak grin took strength from the sound.


    Three minutes and counting. Principle! Three years wouldn''t be enough, or three lifetimes. Three years, he suspected, was the longer of those two spans for him.


    "They''re treating you right, Ellie?"


    "I''m a guest here, Jack," Ellie said, "not a..." She choked up on ''prisoner.''


    "How did that happen?"


    "Don''t quite know myself," she said. "It''s a long story."


    Jack wanted to hear a long story. He could''ve laid down on the table and listened to Ellie tell him any damn thing and called himself content just to hear her voice.


    But he couldn''t.


    He asked, "Do they have Chloe?"


    "I probably wouldn''t be a guest if they did," Ellie said. "Probably won''t be for long, anyway. Even if they don''t arrest me, the person who helped me won''t be able to help himself soon enough."


    "Admiral Avalon, right?"


    "How did you know?"


    "Figured he''d be the one in hot water after what Otto got him doing and saying during the battle. Besides, he claimed you asked him to try to talk me down."


    "Why didn''t you listen, then? Maybe you wouldn''t be here like this!"


    "Nope," Jack said. "I''d be dead."


    Ellie started.


    "Until the Marchesses showed up, Otto was winning. I couldn''t take him in a fight, and I sure as hell couldn''t have survived switching sides when I was in the middle of his battle line."


    "Battle lines." Ellie slumped against him. "How did it come to this, Jack?"


    "The Feds started it, Ellie," Jack said. "They''re the bad... well, the worse guys, anyway. Least as far as Chloe''s concerned."


    Ellie¡¯s ears twitched. She hesitated, but said, "I know."


    "So how come Avalon''s doing you favors?"


    "It''s another long story," she said. "He''s not a bad person, though, Jack. You can believe that much."


    "He sweet on you, Hon?"


    Ellie smiled sadly. "Not the way you mean. He feels bad for how things turned out for us."


    She started to say something more, but stopped with a slight shake of her head.


    Whatever it was, it had to be important. Not important enough he would ask her if she didn''t want to tell, though.


    Besides, they had something else to talk about. "Can you leave?"


    "What?"


    "Not the room ¨C" Jack would have preferred she never have to leave the room, unless it was with him along. "¨C, the city. World. Etemenos."


    "They aren''t holding me," Ellie said, "but of course not! Even if I had the means, I can''t leave you! They''re going to ¨C"


    "Use me to lure Chloe here," Jack said.


    Ellie lowered her eyes. "Yeah."


    "We can''t let that happen."


    "Don''t ask this, Jack. Please. Don''t ask me to leave you."


    "You''ve got to warn her, Hon. You''ve got to stop her from coming to Etemenos."


    "And let them execute you?"


    If necessary, Jack thought. But suddenly, he grinned. "Not a chance."


    Ellie eyed him suspiciously. "Don''t try to bluff me on this, Jack. It''s too important."


    "I''m not," he said, and it was at least half true. "The Feds need me alive if they want any leverage on Chloe."


    "The president won''t pardon you," Ellie said.


    Jack hadn''t expected she would, but the way Ellie said it surprised him. "How do you know that?"


    "I asked her."


    Jack stared.


    That was either a joke in poorer taste than he expected of his wife, or another long story.


    They were gonna have a hell of a lot of catching up to do when all this was over.


    For now, he said, "I don''t figure on getting pardoned. If Chloe doesn''t come here, I figure on getting an appeal."


    "So they can keep you locked up and use you against her," Ellie said. Her ear twitched. "That''s so crazy it might actually work."


    He grinned. "''Course it will, Hon. When have my plans ever gone wrong?"


    Ellie exaggerated a groan. At least, he hoped she was exaggerating. He hadn''t screwed things up that often.


    "There''s only one problem with this one," she said.


    "What''s that?"


    "I have no idea where Chloe is or how to find her, and if I guess wrong out of a thousand star systems or just miss her on the way, your trial will be over, your execution will be scheduled ¨C and she''ll come here."


    "Your pal Avalon doesn''t have any leads?"


    "He''s not exactly a ''pal,'' Jack," Ellie said sternly. Jack didn''t understand her reaction, but he wasn''t gonna waste the few minutes they had together trying to. "And no, he doesn''t. As far as I know, the Feds haven''t seen Chloe since Admiral Avalon fought the Black Rook."


    Jack narrowed his eyes. "That nob from Wellach? I figured he was dead."


    "He may be, now, but if so his death covered Chloe''s escape."


    "Hell of a thing," Jack said.


    Ellie nodded. "He fought the Feds at the battlecruiser where we first found her. He was trying to buy his transport time to flee with her, and I know it got away. As to the Black Rook, if they found his body afterwards, no one told me."


    "So he is or was one of the good guys?"


    "Where Chloe''s concerned?" Ellie sighed. "I don''t know. It seems like any noble should want to help Chloe rather than hurt her. But that man is the sort to help himself first and foremost. At the very least, there¡¯s no way he¡¯d turn her over to the Animus Hunters."


    Jack got it. The Black Rook wouldn¡¯t kill Chloe, but he¡¯d sure as hell use her.


    About like Otto, then.


    As much as Jack hated the nobs in the abstract, he¡¯d squandered any room he had to carp about them now.


    Instead, he asked, "You know where he''d take her?"


    Ellie shook her head. "I wasn''t exactly privy to house secrets from my own lords a decade ago, Jack. Where their lords fled after the Battle of Etemenos, I couldn''t begin to guess."


    "Damn."


    "Yeah." Ellie clasped her hands over Jack''s. "My point is, I can''t afford to run off and try to find Chloe. It would take a miracle for our paths to intersect before she comes here trying to save you."


    "You sound like you''ve got a plan."


    "Nothing so fancy. Just a way I''ll only need a minor miracle." Ellie smiled ruefully. "We have no way of knowing where Chloe is, but we do know where she''ll be."


    Jack gulped. "Etemenos about the time my trial ends. If the Feds push me through as fast as I expect, Chloe''ll probably come in with the crowds for the Etemenos Cup."


    Ellie nodded.


    "That''s cutting it damned close, Ellie," he said. "If you don''t find Clo before they do..."


    "I''m going to try to make sure she can find me." Even the ghost of Ellie¡¯s smile faded. "Told you it wasn''t much of a plan."


    It was the only one they had.


    And, most likely, the only chance their daughter had.

 Chapter 59: Hospitality

    Chapter 59: Hospitality


    "We have to help them!"


    Stephan heaved a deep sigh.


    Chloe grabbed his arm and pulled. After a moment''s resistance, he let her turn him around and met her eyes.


    "We have," she repeated, fighting to calm her voice, to sound reasonable, "to help them."


    "You know that can''t happen, Highness." Stephan slid his arm from her grasp and clasped both her shaking hands in his. "If anything, this should demonstrate to you just how futile it would be to oppose the Senate at this point. The Oligarchs possessed far more resources than we, yet their rebellion collapsed in ¨C what? A year? Less?"


    "But that''s war," Chloe said. "I''m not talking about attacking Etemenos. I''m talking about rescuing my dad."


    "Exactly what the Senate wants you to attempt," Stephan said. "I can only assume President Ferrill broadcast that message to bait a trap for you."


    Chloe gazed up at Stephan''s sad smile, deep into his stratosphere-blue eyes.


    Saw no sadness in the latter.


    "If President Ferrill wanted to bait me to Etemenos," Chloe said, "she succeeded. All I want to know is, will you help me save my dad, or not?"


    "Highness, be reasonable ¨C"


    "You be reasonable," she snapped. "I came here because you promised you''d teach me to use my powers. Powers I could use to rescue my parents. Remember?"


    "Obviously, those were our original intentions. At a time when we didn''t know where to begin looking for your parents and human space seemed on the brink of a genuine second civil war, they seemed entirely reasonable. The situation, as you can surely see, has changed. I''m sorry, Highness, but we have to recognize our limitations."


    Chloe wanted to slap him. She would have, if his long fingers hadn''t clasped hers in gentle, steepled steel.


    "Why?" she asked.


    "Excuse me?"


    "Why does President Ferrill want to trap me?"


    "Because your power is an affront to her rhetoric of equality and a threat to her control."


    "Because she''s afraid of me," Chloe said.


    "If you want to look at it that way."


    "Maybe you should ask yourself, Stephan: since you''re obviously terrified about going up against someone scared of me, why aren''t you even more scared of the person who terrifies her?"


    Stephan''s smile vanished. "I am afraid for the future of the aristocracy ¨C"


    "And I could care less about it."


    Stephan''s grip tightened. "Highness, Chloe, you don''t mean that."


    "Think so? I came here to get help, not give it, though I didn''t mind reciprocating. So. Where''s the reciprocity? You promised you''d train me so I could save my parents. All you''ve done is preach at me and show me parlor tricks! I''ve seen you throw waves of killing light. You haven''t taught me to light a candle. I''ve seen you compress space with your mind and cross the stars. You haven''t taught me to move a piece of paper."


    "Without the proper groundwork," Stephan said, "someone with your power would be endangering herself and others."


    "You''re lying."


    "You claim I haven''t taught you anything, but you can apparently read my mind?"


    "I can read your face, Stephan," Chloe said. "I know it''s a revelation to you, but I''m not stupid. I''m not naive, either, or at least not half as much as you think."


    "I don''t think you''re either of those," Stephan said gently. "Only inexperienced, and emotional, and traumatized by what the Federal Senate has put you through."


    "Stop patronizing me, then," Chloe said.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "I''m trying to be kind."


    "You sure could have fooled me. From where I''m standing, it looks like you''d like to slap me ¨C if you weren''t afraid you wouldn''t be able to sire your imperial dynasty on me."


    From the tension she could feel in Stephan''s arms, she wondered if he''d slap her anyway.


    She almost hoped he would. Until she spoke it aloud, she hadn''t been willing to confront what his motive had to be. How else to explain the conspicuous absence of other nobles ¨C nothing like any description of the close-knit aristocratic outcasts she''d ever heard? His paltry, half-hearted training sessions ¨C nothing like techniques that would free her from dependence on him?


    "That," Stephan said, "is not true. I do harbor some hope of capturing your affections, but far more serious concerns would stay any blow I might think to offer."


    "Go ahead and take a swing," she said. "You''ve got nothing to lose trying, though I can''t promise you''ll hit."


    "It is not my custom," Stephan said, "to strike a lady. Still less my Empress. It would be treason."


    "I am not your Principle-accursed Empress," Chloe snapped. "I''m not Chloe Astroykos. I''m Chloe Hughes, and my father is going to be executed, and I will save him or die trying."


    "You will do nothing of the sort. The future of the aristocracy, of the whole galaxy, rests on your shoulders. And on mine, as you are proving yourself unfit to exercise such judgment as falls to you."


    "Who made that your decision? I don''t see a House of Lords assembled here to crown me, even if I wanted a crown. Seems like you''re the only aristocrat whose future you want to secure."


    "Obviously, I look to my own first and foremost. Considering the importance you put on your adoptive family, I would think you would understand that."


    "Then we''ve got one thing in common, at least." Chloe twisted her hands from his grip.


    "Where do you think you''re going?" Stephan asked.


    "To Etemenos," Chloe said. "Alone or with your help."


    "Highness, I understand that you are distraught over your adoptive father ¨C"


    "He is my father."


    "Of course." Stephan spread his hands. "As I was saying, I understand your distress, but try to think things through. Would he want you to imperil yourself? I''m sure he would want you safe, yes?"


    "He would," Chloe said. "And if he were here right now and told me I had to let him go to his death, I''d... I''d cry and grab his sleeve and beg him not to, but I''d do what he said."


    Stephan nodded sympathetically. His veneer completely recovered in just seconds, he looked and sounded the picture of the concerned friend or distant relation. He said, "Then permit me to say it in his place."


    "There are two big differences," Chloe said.


    "And those are?"


    "First, my dad would say it because he loves me and wants the best for me, not because he wanted something for himself."


    "As I explained, that is not ¨C"


    "Second," Chloe continued, refusing to let him snake his web of words around her again, "Not only do I love my dad, I also respect him."


    Stephan slowly closed his mouth. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, stretched his fingers.


    He said, "Are you quite finished, Your Highness?"


    "I''ve got nothing more to say," Chloe said. "Except, ''stop calling me that.''"


    "You render your position transparent. Yet, you remain ''Your Highness'' by accident of blood, whether you like it or not. Whether either of us do."


    "Does that mean you''ll help me save my dad whether you like it or not, or should I start packing for Etemenos?"


    "It means, Your Highness, that I will help you." He smirked down at her. "For a price."


    Never let them seem you sweat, Chloe recalled. "Name it."


    "You deduce my motives correctly. I would be father to the next Astroykos emperor ¨C the first Kyrillos emperor." Stephan swept his open palm out as though asking her to dance, but the motion seemed stiff, forced. His anger seethed with almost palatable force. "If I condescend to assist in rescuing the Oligarchical lackey you call ''father,'' you, Your Highness, will condescend to call me ''husband.''"


    Chloe stared at his outstretched fingers.


    Stephan was not an unhandsome man, not without charm when he bothered to use it. Nor, when she came down to it, even without a valid position. Why shouldn''t he look to his own first? Didn''t she?


    Yes, he could be cruel. He lied. He schemed. Why not? He was a partisan fighting a war fifteen years lost. It wasn''t fair to blame him for his methods or even his character, though both seemed a far cry from the chivalry she''d admired in stories of the nobles of the Civil War.


    Besides, he was the only person who had even a slim chance of helping her save her father. Who else would she turn to? Rudy? How could she ever trust him with anything again, much less her parents'' lives?


    Yet...


    She imagined Stephan victorious. She imagined a reunion with her parents. She saw tears of joy and warm embraces and warmer smiles. Home, not a place or a ship, but the people she loved and who loved her.


    Stephan Kyrillos was not among that group. He never would be.


    In her mind''s eye, Chloe saw the happiness drain from her family''s tears. She saw them cry themselves to sleep knowing she''d sold her life to buy theirs.


    She met Stephan''s gaze. "If that is your offer, Lord Kyrillos..."


    He cocked an eyebrow expectantly.


    "... then I''m afraid I''ll be taking my leave of your hospitality."

 Chapter 60: Confession

    Chapter 60: Confession


    Rudy''s crimson flight suit tightened. He stretched his back, feeling the fabric slide over muscles too long unused.


    His mask, the first thing he''d pulled up, replayed again and again a clip from President Rhetta Ferrill''s triumphant broadcast: the slow pan over the defeated Oligarchs, culminating in Otto, cocky and defiant as ever. At least for the camera.


    The elder Algreil''s mouth formed words Rudy couldn''t hear. His flight suit''s distributed computer couldn''t hear them either, of course, but it could analyze the motions and synch them with past recordings of Otto speaking. Subtitles appeared in white beneath the image, clearer with each repetition.


    "The company is yours now, Rudy," Otto mouthed. "If you can take it."


    Typical Otto. Not enough to be defiant to the end when he could bust his little brother down on the way.


    Of course, considering Rudy''s track record of late, Otto probably had a point.


    "Crimson Phoenix?" A soft voice brought Rudy¡¯s focus back to New Kyrillopolis. "... Rudolf?"


    He banished the recording.


    He said, "Milissa."


    The Kyrillos girl stood in the doorway of his room again, eyes downcast, for once wearing a dress that looked genuinely modest. She¡¯d gotten better at pretending to spacer ideals, even if she hadn¡¯t nailed the stylings. The fact she kept up the attempt almost impressed him.


    She said, "You''re leaving?"


    "Stealing a shuttle if I have to." Rudy didn''t worry too much about telling Milissa that. Even if she did try to rat him out, he doubted Stephan respected her opinion enough to listen. "One way or another, I''m done waiting."


    "But you can''t go! You''re needed here, now more than ever."


    "My brother needs help," Rudy said. "I''m not gonna sit here until Chloe convinces yours to do something."


    "She won''t."


    "You''re crazy, Milissa. Saving her parents is all Chloe cares about." And she thinks I stood in the way of that, Rudy added to himself. "Now that she knows her dad is in danger, she''ll lean on Stephan night and day."


    "That''s what I''m trying to tell you!" Milissa looked up. She swept across the room and grabbed his hands. Before he could pull away, she said, "Stephan won''t listen. He''s... he''s done something terrible!"


    Rudy froze.


    "She told him she would never give him his Kyrillos dynasty, said terrible things ¨C but maybe they were true things ¨C, said she was going to Etemenos herself if she had to. But then she went to her room to get her things, and I heard Stephan call our men-at-arms to stop her."


    "He doesn''t have the balls. If she gives him an imperial order ¨C"Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Stephan only cares about the empire if it''s our empire. His empire." Milissa shook her head. "I love my brother, but... but it''s not right, Crimson Phoenix! He''s dishonoring our family, and the Empress doesn''t deserve this."


    "Why ask me for help? Shouldn''t you appeal to your men''s imperial loyalties?"


    "They won''t listen. They serve Stephan, not me, not Her Highness. If it comes to it, you''re the only one who can help her. You''re all she''s got."


    "Thanks to you, she doesn''t ''have'' me, either," Rudy said.


    "Then make it up to her," Milissa said. "I''m not a good person, Rudolf. I''m immoral and I''m unserious and I did try to seduce you and Stephan let me because he wanted Her Highness to get over you. Principle! You think I don''t know that?"


    "I think you know pretty damned well,¡± he said. ¡°You might have caught that it¡¯s why I don''t trust you now."


    "I didn''t realize... how much she meant to you. Or vice versa. Stephan said I''d be doing her a favor by getting her over a relationship that could never go anywhere." Milissa lowered her eyes and rested the top of her head against his chest. "Truth is, I honestly am a fan of yours. When Stephan told me he didn''t mind me sleeping with you, I didn''t think about it because I didn''t want to think about it."


    Which does a whole hell of a lot of good now, Rudy thought. He figured Chloe being such a softie had rubbed off on him, though, because he couldn''t bring himself to stay furious at Milissa.


    "I truly am a fan of the Crimson Phoenix," she said. "Always rooted for you, always will. I can''t help but love your style. But... at the end of the day, I''m just another fangirl."


    She gulped, looked up. "I''m an empath. I felt what Her Highness felt when she saw us together that evening. Merciful Principle, I feel it every night when I close my eyes! And it''s tearing me apart. Her Highness doesn''t love your style, Rudolf ¨C she loves you."


    "Not anymore," Rudy said. "She knows better."


    "Then convince her," Milissa said. "Show her. Save her!"


    "Who says I love her?"


    "If you didn''t love her," Milissa said, "you would never have pushed me away. I know you wanted me. You still do, and Principle knows I probably still don''t have it in me to turn you down. So why don''t you take what you want?"


    Rudy¡¯s lip curled. "You think I''ve got that little self-control?"


    "Of course," Milissa said. She managed a smile, however forlorn. "I am a fan, remember? The next time the Crimson Phoenix shows restraint will be the first."


    Rudy had to choke back a chuckle.


    "She needs you, Rudolf," Milissa said. "I can never make up to either of you for what I did. But I can''t let it get any worse. I''d die before I let it get any worse."


    "Stephan''s right." The words felt like ash choking Rudy''s mouth. He said them anyway.


    Milissa looked up sharply. "W-what?"


    "If Chloe goes to Etemenos, she''ll be walking into a trap," Rudy said. "I do care about her. A lot. I don''t want to see her get herself killed, or worse."


    "She''ll get herself killed anyway," Milissa said. "You can''t believe she''d stay here now? Even if she weren''t trying to save her adoptive father ¨C" Rudy couldn''t help but notice that the young noblewoman couldn''t drop the qualifier from ''father.'' Still her brother''s sister, despite everything. "¨C she''d try to leave just because Stephan said the things he said."


    "And Stephan would stop her, and she''d hate him," Rudy said. "Is that what this is about? You get me to ''rescue'' Chloe, figuring I''ll say the same damned thing and ''talk sense into her,'' and then she forgives your big bro?"


    "You don''t understand," Milissa said. "If Her Highness tries to escape, Stephan won''t just lock her up. He doesn''t dare. He''s terrified she''ll deliver herself to the Feds and become a weapon for them ¨C or, worse, that she''ll awaken and destroy us herself.


    "If Stephan thinks it''s her or House Kyrillos," the young noblewoman continued, "he''ll kill her."

 Chapter 61: Beliefs

    Chapter 61: Beliefs


    ¡°You should not have threatened President Ferrill, Ellie.¡±


    Ellie didn''t grace Avalon with an answer. She had managed to avoid confronting him for nearly a week. Why stop now?


    She stared out one of the great panel windows in the hall of Avalon''s manor-like suite on Etemenos''s third ring. From her angle, she could just make out the peak of the sphere of nanomachine gel that was the world-city''s core, poking over the final defensive lines of the second ring.


    Jack sat in a cell somewhere in that second ring.


    Awaiting death.


    She heard Avalon''s stride behind her as he moved to lay a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Ellie...¡±


    She stepped away.


    She turned to look up at the admiral. The color had started to return to the injured side of his face. His limp was almost entirely masked; the only way he could eliminate it entirely was to have his leg re-broken and rest properly while the medical nanopaste did its work.


    But if anything, he looked worse than when he had been bound to his medical chair. Dark circles ringed his eyes and a deep frown lined his handsome face. He looked sad. He looked lost.


    It didn''t matter.


    Ellie turned away. ¡°You would let my husband die, and in dying lure my daughter into being used by your precious president. Don''t touch me, speak to me or even look at me. Don''t you dare try to advise me.¡±


    ¡°I have no choice,¡± Avalon said.


    ¡°You are a great mechaneer and a cunning commander. People follow you, even love you, just from hearing your voice.¡± Ellie laughed bitterly. ¡°And you have no choice.¡±


    ¡°What would you have me do?¡±


    ¡°Save my husband. Warn my daughter.¡± Ellie met his gaze and held it, resisting the memetic influence she now firmly believed Avalon exerted unconsciously.


    He looked away. ¡°I cannot.¡±


    ¡°You mean you will not,¡± Ellie said.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    His frankness cut off her retort.


    ¡°I will not, Ellie,¡± he said, ¡°because of all the things you said. I am skilled. I am influential. I manipulate people by the very act of opening my mouth and there is no mundane mechaneer who can match me in single combat. I could be a warlord, a king. An emperor, perhaps, if I wished it.¡±


    Before Ellie could answer, he caught both her wrists and pinned them to the windowpane. His grip was gentle, but so surprising that Ellie''s knee instinctively lashed out. He deflected the blow without ever wavering or even bothering to meet her eyes.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she hissed.


    ¡°Demonstrating.¡± He looked down the bridge of his aquiline nose, his amber eyes burning with a fire that seemed almost solar. ¡°This is power, Ellie. Automatic, unconscious. I could have killed you just now, or rendered you unconscious, with a touch. You would never have known it.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn''t ¨C¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°I would not.¡±


    He released her to slump against the wall. She wasn''t hurt, but her whole body shook from the shock.


    ¡°That was power, Ellie,¡± Avalon said. ¡°To have power over another is not something desirable. It is abhorrent. It demeans the weak and makes monsters of the strong. I was created to be a weapon, Ellie, but I will not be.¡±


    ¡°You weren''t created,¡± Ellie whispered. No, no, this was wrong. She should not say it. It was improbable, coincidental ¨C


    Consuming.


    In anger, Avalon even seemed to her to resemble her child''s father. There was little enough of the man Corin Basilios might have grown up to be in the admiral''s appearance, but there was enough. The lines of his nose, the set of his jaw, his lean strength.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You were conceived,¡± Ellie said, and hated herself for saying it. Principle, why did she have to be so weak? ¡°You had a mother and a father.¡±


    ¡°My genetic code would seem to say otherwise,¡± Avalon said. ¡°I am partly hybrid, partly aristocrat. I am given to understand such a thing is impossible outside the laboratory. You and your husband, for instance, are genetically incompatible despite his being an ordinary human, and the hybrid strains were derived from such.¡±


    ¡°Jack and I aren''t genetically incompatible,¡± Ellie said.


    Avalon started. ¡°Ah, my apologies. I believed spacers were in the habit of having large families and simply assumed ¨C¡±


    ¡°I was capable of bearing a human''s child,¡± she said. ¡°An aristocrat''s, even. Until a program not unlike the one in which you were made a living weapon decided my ability to do so was an affront to human, to Federal, sensibilities.


    ¡°They sterilized me,¡± she continued, her voice dropping into a monotone, ¡°immediately after they tore the baby from my body and told me they had murdered my child.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Ellie ¨C¡±


    She kept talking. Now that she''d begun, how could she do otherwise? It was too late to go back, too late to do the right thing and keep her fantasy to herself. ¡°Given that such pairings were rare enough you didn''t even know they were possible,¡± Ellie said, ¡°I rather think they lied to me.¡±


    Avalon didn''t answer.


    They stood in silence long enough for the reflected light from a frigate docked to Etemenos''s second ring to play all the way across Avalon''s forehead.


    At last, he turned away. His hands curled into fists, his head dropped, and his shoulders shook.


    Ellie reached for him. She could not hate him. She could not help but believe in coincidence. If Marcel Avalon was not her son, then her son had died in the same facility from which he escaped.


    Very quietly, Avalon said, ¡°How dare you?¡±


    Her eyes widened.


    ¡°How dare you,¡± he repeated. He pounded a fist into a metal shelf, hard enough to leave a visible dent and draw blood from his hand.


    He whirled on her, shaking. With fury, she realized now, and did not know why.


    ¡°I thought,¡± he said, his voice a rasp, ¡°you were a good person, Ellie. I thought, for all that the pattern of our days might make us enemies, I could trust you.¡±


    ¡°You can, Marcel,¡± she said. ¡°I don''t understand ¨C¡±


    ¡°You wish to turn me against the woman who raised me, who saved me,¡± he said. ¡°You stand before me with this... this farce of a sob story!  You would have me call you mother in place of the president. Who but my mother to turn me against the only mother I knew?¡±


    Ellie''s stomach lurched. ¡°That''s not what I want at all,¡± she cried. She wondered if she sounded as insincere as she felt. Her mind swore she didn''t want to use Avalon''s power, even to save Jack, if he would not give it.


    Her heart agreed.


    That didn''t mean she didn''t want to use him.


    He was not her son. It was madness to think so.


    To want to believe it so badly, still worse to speak it? Wasn''t that using him, if only to fill a void in her heart she''d spent more than a decade trying to ignore?


    ¡°You are President Ferrill''s enemy,¡± Avalon said. ¡°You threatened her and all she holds dear. Now, when you have no power to effect your enmity, you seek to co-opt mine. It is vile to wield power, but still moreso to steal it!¡±


    Instinct told Ellie she should back away. Avalon angered could kill her almost without thinking, and she had a responsibility to stay alive. Chloe needed to be warned. Jack depended on her to do it.


    Ellie stepped forward.


    Avalon''s shaking hands extended, his amber eyes raged ¨C


    And with one last shudder, he stopped.


    ¡°If Rhetta Ferrill was a mother to you,¡± Ellie whispered, ¡°if she loves you, Marcel, then she is your mother indeed. Just as I''m Chloe''s mom, and Jack her father.¡±


    Avalon swallowed.


    ¡°It was wrong of me to say what I did,¡± she said. ¡°But I''ll never be so wrong as to ask you to oppose your mother.¡±


    Another silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the hum of energy flowing through every ring of Etemenos.


    After a moment''s silence, Ellie clasped her hands and bowed. She stepped back to the railing, straightened up and, wordlessly, walked toward the door to the Etemenos thoroughfare to which the manor-like suite was attached.


    She reached the doors and paused for only a heartbeat. She wanted to say goodbye, but wasn''t sure she had the right.


    ¡°Ellie,¡± Avalon said.


    She froze.


    ¡°Was that story really true?¡±


    ¡°What I know of it is true,¡± Ellie said. ¡°But to imply you ¨C¡±


    ¡°You were captured, your child taken, your body sterilized?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Ellie whispered. She refused to let herself cry. She did not deserve it, not in front of Avalon.


    ¡°And the father?¡±


    ¡°Corin Basilios. He was the son of my family''s lord.¡±


    ¡°Then you are wrong about me,¡± Avalon said. He strode to the door and took her hand. ¡°I do not carry Basilios DNA. The RAMSES Project had only one derived from that strain, and he...¡±


    Despite herself, Ellie couldn''t quite stifle a sob.


    ¡°I am sorry, Ellie,¡± Avalon said. ¡°I couldn''t save him.¡±


    Ellie tried to form some kind of protest. Avalon himself had been a tiny boy. Young in body and mind, despite whatever abhorrent process had been used to accelerate his growth. Without that, he should¡¯ve been a toddler.


    She couldn¡¯t speak.


    All she could manage was to bury her face in her hands and weep. She felt his arm around her shoulders and let herself lean against it. Her son was truly dead. He had been taken from her and murdered, just as they had told her. But his murder had been a thing of months. He had been told he didn''t have a mother at all.


    Walls that had been cracking in Ellie''s mind for months shattered, and they had been dams penning up her tears.


    When she recovered herself enough to stand, she gripped Avalon''s hand and, without daring to meet his eyes, whispered, ¡°Tell me about him.¡±


    ¡°He was my friend,¡± Avalon said. ¡°They called him RAMSES-14, but he was Alexander to the rest of us. The second or third most promising candidate, I think. He won as often as he lost in wargames against me, so we were often matched. We were both glad, I think. We enjoyed the challenge.¡±


    Alex, Ellie thought. My son had a name. If only for a little while, he had a friend.


    Ellie found her tear-stained face curling into a smile. Sad, perhaps, but a smile all the same.


    Rhetta Ferrill was wrong. The Principle could be merciful.


    Not seeing, Avalon continued. ¡°He won more often, not as often. He must have been better. If I''d been at rest and he the one exercising... if I''d been a little faster...! Pure chance, that it was I who lived. Dammit, it should have been him standing here talking to you!¡±


    ¡°He... Alex... would''ve said the same for you,¡± Ellie said, ¡°wouldn''t he?¡±


    Avalon nodded.


    ¡°Then be happy, Marcel, that he can be happy for you.¡± For a wonder, her words didn''t sound hollow even to her ears.


    Avalon shook his head. ¡°I am not a Theist.¡±


    ¡°I''m not much of anything,¡± Ellie admitted, ¡°but it''s got to be better to try to believe, even if we don''t always manage to.¡±


    ¡°Even if we''re wrong?¡±


    ¡°Especially if we''re wrong.¡±


    Avalon matched Ellie''s wan smile.


    ¡°Thank you, Marcel,¡± Ellie said. ¡°Thank you so much.¡±


    ¡°Don''t,¡± he said. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    She cocked her head.


    ¡°I could not save your son, Ellie,¡± Avalon said. His mouth set, his eyes narrowed, his voice was like the ice of a comet''s heart. ¡°But the pattern of the rest of your family''s days is not yet known to us.¡±


    ¡°No! What about all those things you told me? What about President Ferrill?¡±


    ¡°I will not go against the law she loves, Ellie. There is nothing within in it that Marcel Avalon or even the Federal Navy''s second admiral could do for your husband or your daughter.


    ¡°But by the Principle,¡± Avalon said, ¡°the same may not be true of the Divine Auric Drake!¡±

 Chapter 62: Gilded Cage

    Chapter 62: Gilded Cage


    Chloe sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the wood-paneled wall of her suite.


    Neither bed nor suite were truly hers.


    No more than the elegant gowns hanging in the closet, or the one lying discarded beside her on the bed''s reactive gel, or the gold-framed mirror on the dresser, or the open case of jewelry beside it.


    Chloe had torn her earlobes in her haste to get the diamond earrings out. They ached dully, a reminder she didn''t entirely want to banish.


    None of these things were hers. They did not belong to her. She did not want them.


    She would leave them, and this place. As soon as she worked up the courage. The bravado she''d shown Stephan faded as soon as she stopped talking, leaving a black pit at the base of her stomach where her guts were supposed to be.


    She''d come to her suite to pack and realized she had almost nothing to pack. She''d stripped off the gown and tossed it aside, dumped the necklace and the bracelets, torn away the earrings, shook her dark curls loose from their elaborate weave. She''d slipped into the familiar comfort of her flight suit.


    Her few other possessions had been confiscated with the Mother Goose. Even the flight suit was a gift from Rudy, white instead of her familiar gray.


    Rudy.


    Her instincts, her hunch, told her she should go to him for help.


    She didn''t listen. A hunch had led her to the Kyrillos estate, where she manifestly did not belong. She couldn''t trust it. She couldn''t trust Rudy Kaine Algreil, either. If she owed the Kyrilloses for anything, she owed them for showing how little Rudy cared.


    Somehow, Chloe couldn''t muster much gratitude.


    "If I can''t trust a hunch or a friend or a knight in shining armor," she whispered, "what can I trust?"


    Trust your machines, trust your family, trust yourself. Spacer upbringing had hammered those principles into Chloe. But her family and her machines were captured. The part of her she normally relied on had proven itself unreliable.


    No, that wasn''t right.


    Her noble heritage ¨C Imperial heritage, according to Stephan ¨C had proven itself unreliable.


    Her spacer''s instincts, on the other hand, hadn''t failed her yet. She hadn''t paid them any mind in so long, how could they have?


    Chloe balled her fists and rose. She swept across the suite to the door, which slid open at her approach.


    Slava stood outside, flanked by two other ursids in Kyrillos livery.


    "Let me pass," Chloe said, as regally as she could manage. She thought she sounded ridiculous, but the three men-at-arms instinctively took a step back.


    Then braced themselves. Slava shook his head. "It is not good for Your Highness to go in this state," he said. "Better you wait. Better you think. Yes?"


    "No," Chloe said. She strode toward the trio, who filled the hallway with their bulk and outweighed her a good ten to one. She marched straight up to Slava and looked up at his massive face.


    He frowned down at her, shook his head sadly.


    Chloe dumped the ''imperial'' persona. She didn''t need to command. She needed to bluff. She had no idea if Emperor Theophilos Astroykos could bluff. If so, she neither knew nor needed his style. The Jack Hughes method worked perfectly well.


    "One way or another, I''m going to pass, Slava," she said. "I don''t want to hurt you. Principle knows you''ve been very kind. But Principle also knows, if it comes down to you or my dad, I''m siding with my dad."


    "You are not scaring me, Highness," the ursid said. "Lord Kyrillos wishes you to go back to your room. It would be best."


    "If I''m not scaring you, Slava," Chloe said, "it''s because you haven''t thought about it enough. You really think you can keep a noble ¨C an Imperial ¨C locked up in a tower like a fairy-tale princess? Because I don''t."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "Your Highness has no training."


    And whose fault is that, Chloe thought. She said, "Then you should be even more worried."


    Slava cocked his head.


    "See, if I were trained," Chloe continued, "I could pick the three of you up with a thought and just move you out of my way. Heck, I could just send a thought to you and you''d lie down and go to sleep and I''d walk on by. But not being trained ¨C thanks to your lord ¨C about all I can do is shove. Hard."


    The two ursids she didn''t know hesitated. One even took a step back.


    "You will not," Slava said. "It is not your way."


    "You''d bet your life on that?"


    He shrugged. "I have orders."


    "You''d die for your orders?"


    Slava looked downright hurt. "Of course!"


    Chloe took a deep breath. She didn''t know the first thing about projecting psions as telekinetic force, the way Stephan and the Animus Hunter had. And Slava was right ¨C she desperately didn''t want to kill him, and didn''t think, on the off chance she actually managed to call on her powers, she could hold back enough not to. In the stories she''d heard, a psychic''s awakening to her powers was a violent thing, a storm of frightened thoughts, a maelstrom of telekinesis or pyrokinesis or both.


    "Slava," she said, "please let me leave. It isn''t right for you to keep me here. It isn''t right for me to hurt you. But if you don''t move, one or the other is gonna happen, and I''m telling you, it''s gonna be the latter."


    "I cannot, Your Highness. A thousand apologies."


    Chloe raised her balled fist. She concentrated.


    Slava gently, calmly picked her up by the shoulders and deposited her inside the still-open doorway of her suite. He released her and stepped back. "A thousand apologies," he repeated, and bowed.


    Chloe''s knuckles whitened. Principle, she didn''t want to do this, didn''t know if she could, but she had to try!


    She felt the air stir. She imagined she felt a ripple of power.


    "You must stay here," Slava said.


    A third voice entered the conversation. "The hell she must."


    The Kyrillos men-at-arms spun around. Chloe couldn''t see past their bulky frames, but she knew the voice. As much as she didn''t want it to, it made her heart leap. What concentration she''d mustered vanished.


    The first ursid stumbled to his knees, gagging and clutching at his throat. The second spun around, ricocheted off the wall, and fell onto the first.


    Rudy, his flight suit gleaming fiery neon red in the light of the hallway''s broad stained glass window, grinned at Chloe and Slava.


    "Chloe," Rudy said.


    She felt a lump in her throat, swallowed hard. "Rudy."


    "Mr. Algreil," Slava said, "this is very bad. You are a guest in my lord''s house, but you attack us?"


    Rudy shrugged. "What can I say? I''ve always been a bad boy."


    "You will stop," Slava growled. He leaned forward, flexing his massive arms. His hands spread wide, his fingers squeezing as though they already gripped Rudy''s neck. "Or I will stop you."


    "Don''t think so, big guy. Unlike Clo, I would love to get another shot at your hairy ass. But, if you''re not profoundly ignorant, we can both walk away from this."


    "That will not happen."


    Rudy shrugged again.


    Chloe never saw what he did to turn the casual shrug into sudden, terrifying motion. One minute he was spreading his arms; the next he was bouncing from the windowsill, his foot slamming Slava back against a wall and stunning him long enough for four rapid-fire punches to rocket into his snout.


    Slava recovered better than his cohorts, reaching around to crush Rudy in a killing embrace.


    Rudy jumped. Legs spread, he landed on the ursid''s forearms, forcing them down. He used the momentum to stay airborne, grabbed Slava''s collar and smashed their heads together. When Rudy''s flew back, blood trailed from his forehead ¨C most of it ursid blood. His fist shot up into Slava''s chin, his elbow into Slava''s chest, his shoulder into Slava''s stomach.


    The Kyrillos man-at-arms, blinded by pain and his own blood, swung wildly. Rudy grabbed the flailing blow and spun into it.


    Slava''s momentum sent him careening into the window. It exploded in a shower of stained glass. The Kyrillos man-at-arms flailed backwards, roaring in pain as his back snagged shards. His big hand snagged part of the metal frame. It started to bend.


    Chloe lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve with both hands.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me," Rudy said.


    And grabbed the other sleeve.


    Chloe smiled at him as, between the two of them, they hauled the roaring ursid away from the window.


    Glass was embedded in Slava''s back. His face was covered in blood.


    Still, he forced himself to his knees and tried to turn to face Rudy.


    Rudy snapped a kick. Before Chloe could even beg him to stop, his foot reached the side of Slava''s mangled face.


    And halted.


    "I could have killed you," Rudy said. "It wouldn''t even have been hard. But Chloe would never let me hear the end of it."


    "I was to stop Her Highness, if I could," Slava said. He turned a battered eye toward the foot at his cheek. He managed what might have been a smile, or at least a grimace. "I am thinking ¨C I cannot."


    "You''re not half as dumb as you look, big guy," Rudy said, grinning. He lowered his foot.


    He turned to Chloe and waved toward the hallway. "You heard the man. Ready to go, ¡®Your Highness¡¯?"


    "I ¨C" She glanced at Slava and his subordinates. She wanted to help the ursids, but prudence, for once, trumped charity. Like she''d said: if it came down to him or her dad, she''d help her dad. Besides, she told herself, the Kyrilloses had far more medical facilities than they had retainers.


    She said, "I''m ready."

 Chapter 63: Break

    Chapter 63: Break


    Rudy broke into an easy sprint. He didn''t want to strand Chloe and wasn''t sure how well she''d kept in shape. The gasps she struggled to hide when she stumbled into the marble-railed balcony of the estate''s main hall told him. Not as well as he had.


    Or else he was flying on an adrenaline high and would crash as hard as a mecha in gravity in a few minutes. That would get ugly.


    Rudy glanced around the hall. No other men-at-arms had poured out to stop him and Chloe from escaping. So far, so good. As long as they hesitated to shoot Chloe, and hence anyone standing near her, Rudy didn''t worry too much about the Kyrillos troops. Slava, their captain and champion, hadn''t posed much of a challenge .


    Chloe glanced up from the railing. Her face was flushed with exertion and she was still breathing hard. She breathed awfully prettily, Rudy couldn''t help but notice.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± she asked.


    ¡°To the Magpie,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°How are we going to get it in the air?¡±


    Rudy winked. ¡°Trust me.¡±


    The nervous smile Chloe had worn faded. Her stratosphere blues narrowed. She straightened up. Even the breathing he''d been idly appreciating slowed.


    Rudy knew that look. He''d have been seeing altogether too much of it lately, except that he''d hardly seen her at all.


    He wanted to take her hands and tell her ¨C okay, he wanted to do more than take her hands. But he didn''t want her to pull away, and it was pretty obvious she planned on both his attempt and her evasion.


    The direct approach might be Rudy¡¯s first, second and third choice. Didn''t mean it was the only one he knew.


    He met her hard gaze and turned it with gentle force. His martial arts instructors would''ve beamed at him, for maybe the first time. ¡°Chloe,¡± he said softly, firmly, ¡°we will talk about this. But this is not the time.¡±


    She set her jaw, but Rudy knew he had her. She closed her eyes. ¡°You''re right.¡±


    Rudy killed his sigh of relief. He took Chloe''s stiff hand and tensed to run.


    ¡°That''s far enough, Mr. Algreil.¡±


    Rudy didn''t turn. No sudden movements. No movements at all, if he could help it. Not yet.


    He said, ¡°Hi, Steph.¡±


    ¡°You are not being a very good guest,¡± Stephan said. ¡°I''d say I''m disappointed, but frankly, I''d be lying. Her Highness, on the other hand, is proving to be rather more foolish than I''d thought possible.¡±


    Rudy mouthed, ''keep him talking.''


    Chloe answered with an almost imperceptible nod.


    ¡°Since when,¡± she said, ¡°is it foolishness to run away from somebody who''s trying to keep you prisoner?¡±


    ¡°In the company of such a trustworthy rescuer, Highness?¡±


    ¡°In the company of the lesser of two evils.¡±


    Rudy winced. Hopefully, she only said it to play to Stephan¡¯s biases. Since she still looked ready to ditch him if he so much as looked at her funny, he didn''t like the odds.


    ¡°Well, the company of the lesser man, at least,¡± Stephan said.


    Chloe snorted. ¡°You don''t call yourself evil? You lie, you manipulate, you kill. Principle alone knows what your organization does in your name.¡±


    ¡°Only the winners have the luxury of throwing around such labels, Highness,¡± Stephan said. ¡°Until you see reason and assist me in correcting this worthless galaxy, you will have to inquire with the Federal Senate regarding matters of ''good'' and ''evil.''¡±


    ¡°How come you didn''t mention your ethical philosophy while you were deciding not to train me? When you kept me isolated from the rest of the aristocracy, who might have taken their oaths of fealty more seriously?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, Highness, you can''t blame me. By your own admission, you weren''t much of a pupil, and as we now see, I really couldn''t trust you, could I?¡±


    ¡°If I bring this mansion down on our heads,¡± Chloe said, ¡°you''re gonna look pretty stupid.¡±


    ¡°You won''t,¡± Stephan said.


    ¡°Yeah? Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because, Highness, you do not lie.¡± Stephan sounded about ten paces away and closing fast.


    Rudy forced himself to relax.


    Six paces.


    ¡°You do not manipulate.¡±


    Rudy met Chloe''s eyes.


    Three paces.


    ¡°You do not ¨C kill!¡±


    Rudy spun Chloe aside and himself into a high backflip, seconds before an icicle congealed from the air and thunked into a pillar behind where they''d been standing.


    Rudy came down with a foot to Stephan''s face and knocked him backwards, hit the floor before the Black Rook did, and swept his other leg around to send Stephan tumbling.


    ¡°She doesn''t monologue, either, Steph,¡± Rudy said as he flipped to his feet. ¡°You should get that checked. It''s one of the first symptoms of villainy.¡±


    Stephan didn''t bother standing or even forming one of his trademark icicles. He thrust his palm at Rudy in a swirl of chilly, telekinetically-agitated air.


    And nothing else.Stolen story; please report.


    Stephan''s eyes widened. He shot a glance behind Rudy ¨C to Chloe, presumably ¨C and then back.


    Rudy kept his own expression neutral. It seemed like the wrong time to admit he''d been tensed to roll with a telekinetic punch capable of bouncing him off the walls. He¡¯d also been low-key prepared to die trying to save Chloe, but he hated to admit that possibility even to himself.


    Nothing hid surprise like rolling into somebody, twisting them into the air and kicking them over the railing of a third-story balcony. Rudy didn''t hear anything from Stephan after his first, undignified squawk, so he figured the Black Rook had spread his psychic wings before he crashed.


    ¡°Lord Kyrillos!¡± A troop of men-at-arms, Quinn in the lead, charged up the last flight of the grand staircase. Their boxy automatic rifles looked too powerful for his flight suit to stop. Like it mattered? Even a pistol bullet would knock the wind out of him, which was all they needed.


    ¡°Time to go, Clo,¡± he called.


    ¡°Way ahead of you,¡± Chloe said. She waved from the cover of a side hall. ¡°This way!¡±


    Rudy dove in after her, seconds before bullets rattled the air in three-shot bursts fast enough they blended together from a rattle to a single whine. Chips of wood and stone exploded from the estate''s walls. One of the splinters would have stained his arm a duller red if not for his flight suit''s armor.


    Chloe being in cover and Rudy not could, he decided, get bad. The men-at-arms had no reason to even hesitate.


    Her not being in cover might be worse. He didn''t know they''d hesitate if they might hit her. Especially after he¡¯d struck Stephan directly, and Chloe had sided with him.


    She apparently didn''t want to put it to the test any more than Rudy did, because she took off down the hall even before he''d rolled to his feet. He couldn''t help but appreciate the sight, but he didn''t exactly have time to soak in the view.


    One of these days, Rudy thought, I''m gonna get to watch her run when I don''t have to concentrate on catching up.


    Once upon a time, he thought, I''d have been able to say that.


    Chloe would still have glared, but she wouldn''t have meant it. Maybe.


    They rounded a corner, Chloe slowing, Rudy speeding up as he bounced off the far wall to turn his momentum. He caught up to her and glanced her way. ¡°Do you know where we''re going?¡±


    ¡°Away from the guys with the guns,¡± she said, punctuating each word with a hard breath.


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Rudy said. He swept the hallway, looking for a better one.


    Elegant doors to elegant guest bedrooms. Definitely not. With no other exits, they were elegant death traps.


    Stained-glass windows like the ones Slava had nearly taken a dive through. If Rudy had been alone, he''d have been out those in a heartbeat, but he''d never had either the opportunity or the idea to teach Chloe the free running techniques he''d use to get down safely.


    Wood-paneled far corner adorned with glowering portraits of Kyrilloses past. It curved back toward the main hall and Quinn''s fireteam. Rudy was willing to bet his life they knew to spread out and cover both ends.


    Broad balcony overlooking the estate''s grounds.


    Rudy grinned.


    He grabbed Chloe''s arm and pulled her out onto it.


    She gasped. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Better idea,¡± he said. ¡°Hold on to me!¡±


    Now that his thoughts had had a chance to catch up to his instincts, he worried about this step. But to his surprise, Chloe immediately wrapped her arms around him and nodded. He pulled her tight and resisted the urge to try for a good luck kiss ¨C


    And jumped off the balcony.


    His back rammed into the shining solar shingles of the estate''s sprawling tool shed. It was a two story drop. Rudy alone could have handled twice that much without any trouble even in normal gravity. Maybe even without a flight suit to cushion the impact.


    Of course, he wouldn''t have landed on his back, nor would he have had another person''s weight bearing down on him. The landing knocked the breath out of him.


    Chloe rolled off him ¨C nearly off the shed, too, before she caught herself on the rim.


    Rudy tried to follow and grimaced. Damn, that had been a worse idea than he thought. At least his spine didn''t seem to be cracked. He figured nerve damage would have made the rest of his body stop hurting, or at least overwhelmed the pain.


    ¡°Rudy!¡± Chloe''s face hovered above his. She gripped his shoulders. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Didn''t know you cared.¡± He flashed what would have been a lot more charming grin if it hadn''t come out as a grimace.


    ¡°I shouldn''t.¡± She matched the grin he was trying for.


    ¡°Can''t very well let you down, then,¡± he said.


    He pried himself up. Aches and pains, and a hell of a bruise, he was sure, but nothing he couldn''t ignore.


    For now, at least.


    Chloe''s sigh of relief was downright inspirational.


    Rudy started to speak, but a shout from overhead interrupted him. ¡°They''re down there!¡±


    He looked up to see Quinn, rifle shouldered and aimed at them. The Kyrillos man-at-arms hesitated when he saw Chloe in his line of fire. ¡°Surrender,¡± he shouted.


    ¡°You won''t shoot me, Quinn,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°I will if I''m ordered to, Highness.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Your friend there is a bonus.¡±


    Chloe was between Rudy and the Kyrillos man-at-arms. That meant she''d take the shots if he started shooting, and was damn fool enough not to get out of the way. Rudy didn''t believe she had it in her to let an injured man die even if she''d decided to try to hate said guy.


    Chloe''s position also meant Quinn couldn''t see Rudy''s arm.


    Not until he whipped a little pistol from the holster his suit had formed for it and emptied a clip into the man-at-arm''s chest. The rounds thudded wetly. Less than lethal rounds against armored men? Rudy suppressed a curse. At least they knocked Quinn back.


    Chloe had clapped her hands to her ears and rolled away, apparently not realizing she was too late to actually keep the sound out. Rudy grabbed one of her arms and pulled her after him as he slid toward the edge of the garage.


    Bullets riddled the roof behind them as the rest of Quinn''s fireteam reached the balcony. They didn''t have the same discipline without their boss to order it. The fully automatic fire did more damage to the estate than it ever risked doing to Rudy or Chloe.


    Rudy landed on a storage shed, caught Chloe before she could fall past it, and used her momentum to pull them both down to ground level.


    He set her down gently as a dance partner. ¡°Can''t beat this for living, huh?¡±


    ¡°Or for dying,¡± she said shakily.


    He didn''t see any point in acknowledging her sudden case of defeatism.


    The rifle chatter fell silent, replaced by the clinking of discarded clips and falling bits of roof. ¡°Into the garage,¡± Rudy said, and pulled Chloe after him.


    The inside was dark and chilly. Rudy almost tripped over something metal.


    ¡°Get the lights, Clo,¡± he called. He started picking his way through the darkness, slipping a hand into another of the pockets his suit had formed. He exchanged the spent pistol for the other item he''d acquired before he tried this little rescue operation.


    He muttered, ¡°Sixth from the door, right-hand side.¡±


    He was pretty sure he''d found what he was looking for. He swung onto it and found the seat was made from reactive gel and, barely, big enough for two. Comfortable and cozy. Under better circumstances, he''d have appreciated it even more than he did now.


    The lights flickered on, and he couldn''t help but wince when he saw what he was sitting on. It startled a laugh from Chloe.


    ¡°You shouldn''t laugh at the source of your salvation,¡± Rudy said. Good time to be dark-complexioned. Chloe was the one who was supposed to blush.


    ¡°Salvation,¡± Chloe said, ¡°isn''t usually hot pink.¡±


    Rudy had to agree. But when he pressed the lock of dark curls he''d pulled from his pocket to the touchpad on the side of the bubble-gum colored snowmobile, an engine roared to life that sounded almost sufficient to make up for its chassis.


    ¡°That''s Milissa''s,¡± Chloe said.


    He held up the lock of hair he''d used to start the machine. ¡°This or the snowmobile?¡±


    ¡°Both.¡±


    ¡°The pistol, too. Hence those squishy ''bullets.''¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Chloe looked like she wanted to have a long, heartfelt and possibly violent conversation on the subject.


    Rudy wasn''t exactly upset when another round of automatic weapons fire interrupted her.


    ¡°Later,¡± he said, and motioned to the back of the snowmobile''s seat.


    Score one for pragmatism. Chloe took him up on the offer, and when the rifles clicked empty again, Rudy gunned the accelerator.

 Chapter 64: Trials

    Chapter 64: Trials


    The screen faded back into the cell wall in front of Jack.


    Again.


    He rolled his eyes. ¡°Some trial, huh?¡±


    He and Otto had been asked to speak in their own defense. That was the law. They did it from their cells because letting them walk to the trial, under guard and under Limiters, was ¡°too dangerous to Federal security.¡±


    And every time Jack tried to explain why he''d ended up fighting with the Oligarchical rebellion, the screen turned off.


    Couldn''t have him sharing classified information with the jurors, now could they? Couldn''t have him mention how an Animus Hunter went after a harmless civilian girl, claimed she was deadly dangerous, and tried to haul her in on powers charges or worse without a shred of evidence she''d done a damn thing? Or how a Fed admiral, sniffing after that same girl, had threatened the Algreil arcology on Wellach before showing any kind of legal authority to do so?


    Yeah. Some trial.


    Jack didn''t think he''d been allowed to string two sentences together yet.


    Otto, on the other hand, had been the perfect witness. Jack didn''t know if the oligarch was so far gone he honestly thought his lawyers could get him off or if he just didn''t have it in him to care.


    Jack did know it annoyed the hell out of him.


    He probably wasn''t being fair. The Feds were the ones railroading them through, Otto to get rid of a legitimate danger, Jack to make sure their Chloe trap was well and truly baited. Which wasn''t Otto''s fault, except for the part where he started a war, and the part where he lost it, and the part where the losing seemed to have a hell of a lot to do with his being deliberately, chronically cruel to his wife.


    Jack glared at him.


    Hard to glare at a man who sat there and took it without so much as acknowledging the expression. The oligarch seemed downright meditative. Maybe he planned on starting his own little Theist sect.


    If he did, he apparently believed in reincarnation.


    The screen flickered back on, revealing the stony-faced Fed judge who''d presided over their trial ¨C such as it was.


    ¡°Mr. Algreil, Mr. Hughes,¡± he said, ¡°your testimony will no longer be required today.¡±


    ¡°Funny you should mention that,¡± Jack said, ¡°''cause I don''t see how we''ve actually given any.¡±


    He didn''t even get to finish before the screen winked out.


    Bastard, Jack thought.


    As bad as the trial was, he almost preferred it to not having anything to do. Otto got on his nerves at the best of times, and this sure as hell wasn¡¯t. Wondering if Ellie had found a way to reach Chloe, doubly so. Wondering if he''d been wrong about the Feds needing him alive? Oh, yeah. He wondered the hell out of that. He figured the Feds made their holding cells so boring as part of the punishment.


    He''d started to pace before he even realized he''d done it.


    Angrily, he forced himself to sit on the empty cot.


    He wasn''t gonna let them get to him. It was probably some kind of psychological leverage.


    ¡°It''s psycho, is what it is,¡± he muttered.


    Otto, predictably, didn''t answer.


    Jack glared at him again. This time, he got it to stick. ¡°What the hell are you cooperating with the Feds for, anyway? You gotta know they''re gonna fry you, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°You ever say anything but monosyllables anymore?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Dammit, Otto, you couldn''t pass a sentience test, the way you''ve been acting. You could at least show some pride or defiance or ¨C something.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Otto finally looked at him. ¡°And get cut off every fifteen seconds? You achieve what, exactly?¡±


    ¡°Still got my pride,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°And your brains.¡±


    For a minute, Jack thought the oligarch actually intended to converse. Sarcasm sounded more like the old Otto than anything he''d heard in a month.


    Instead, Otto went back to staring at the wall that usually served as their cell''s door.


    ¡°When you first started acting like this,¡± Jack said, ¡°I honestly thought you were planning an escape or something.¡±


    No response.


    ¡°But you''re just gonna sit here and die.¡±


    No response.


    ¡°You''re not even gonna fight back!¡±


    ¡°Twenty-nine thousand, two hundred and seventy magnetic acceleration cannons rated for anti-capital ship fire,¡± Otto said in a monotone.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°Four million Federal Marines with significant mecha elements,¡± the oligarch continued. ¡°The First Fleet, with eight destroyers, two battlecruisers, two battleships, five fleet carriers and more than a hundred smaller vessels. At least ten thousand Navy mecha between the fleet and the city defense forces.¡±


    It was Jack''s turn to sit and stare.


    ¡°Fully half of the active Animus Hunter corps, an unknown number of errants and nob traitors, at least forty strong and powerful enough to be trusted with soloing any nob or errant who tries to use his powers in Fed-controlled space.¡±


    Jack swallowed.


    ¡°A shield supposed to be so strong even an Imperial couldn''t get through,¡± Otto continued. ¡°And most of the city-world is built from nanomachines that can crush, suffocate or even cut to ribbons as easily as they can seat and transport.¡±


    ¡°Etemenos''s defenses,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°That''s right, Jack.¡± Otto finally met his eyes. ¡°We cannot escape. We can''t get by any one of those things ¨C hell, we can''t get out of our cell, because even if we slipped through the ''door,'' the room we got into would just become another cell. This whole city, this whole world, is a prison for anyone the Feds don''t like.¡±


    ¡°You''re saying we''ve got no chance against all that stuff,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Anyone with brain one can see that.¡±


    ¡°Well if we don''t find a way to get through it,¡± Jack said, ¡°there''s at least even odds my daughter''s gonna try.¡±


    Otto shrugged. ¡°And I would care for what reason? She''s no longer any use to me.¡±


    Jack shot to his feet and slugged Otto before either of them realized what he was thinking. His fist actually connected. The oligarch spun to the floor and sprawled there. A line of red pooled on the silvery floor where his face lay.


    ¡°You ever say that again,¡± Jack began.


    Then he realized Otto wasn''t moving.


    ¡°Otto?¡±


    Ah, crap.


    Jack knelt beside him and reached out to turn him over.


    Otto''s fingers caught him in the throat and jabbed him backwards. If the oligarch had been working out like he normally did, the blow would have left Jack coughing and sputtering. Or dead if Otto had wanted him that way. As it was, it sent Jack reeling back against his own cot.


    Otto was on him in a second, but he was slow and weak from weeks of sitting inactive. Jack had been pacing, ranting and working out for lack of anything better to do.


    They traded four punches. None connected.


    Otto got under Jack''s guard and grabbed his loose-fitting prison shirt. He yanked him forward into an outstretched palm.


    Jack cracked his elbows down on Otto''s arm before it hit. Otto folded into a grapple.


    Speed didn''t matter now, or even the kind of lean muscle Otto normally had. Jack wrapped him up in a crushing bear hug and swung him around into the wall. It gave a little, like soft foam. The prisoners weren''t technically supposed to hurt each other.


    Otto had planned on that give. Jack hadn''t. Off-balance, he started to slip, got his footing for a second, and flipped to the floor when Otto shot his leg into the newly available gap.


    They went down side by side, still swinging wildly.


    Then the Limiters kicked in.


    Jack was so stunned he couldn''t see for a second, his nervous system overloaded with a weird mixture of pleasure and nausea. It was a little like being falling-down drunk. He''d heard the original limiters mimicked those effects exactly, but they''d refined the mixture over the years. He groaned and rolled toward the bunk, grabbing his suddenly fuzzy head. He felt like throwing up, but couldn''t bring himself to mind.


    He glanced over at Otto. The oligarch hadn''t even bothered to roll over. He lay there, tongue lolling out, broken nose leaking blood. He glanced over at Jack.


    Jack grinned drunkenly. ¡°Feds''re gonna be pissed we take the stand like this, huh?¡±


    ¡°Heh. Make it look like they''re inte... inta... like they beat the shit out of us.¡±


    ¡°You gonna start manning up now,¡± Jack asked, ¡°or I gonna haveta smack ya around some more?¡±


    ¡°In your dreams,¡± Otto slurred. ¡°Kick your ass if it wassint for these Liminers.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like yeah,¡± Jack said. ¡°We''re gonna feel like crap when we wake up, right?¡±


    ¡°Prolly.¡±


    ¡°Never actually hit you before. You''re slipping.¡±


    ¡°Got lucky.¡±


    The part of Jack''s mind that still functioned figured Otto was right.


    But he''d also gotten the oligarch to do something. Otto was still in there. Slower, weaker, and buried deep enough it took a punch to the face to wake him up ¨C


    But still there.


    Jack wondered what he had up his sleeve.


    Until he passed out, anyway.

 Chapter 65: Errant Magpie

    Chapter 65: Errant Magpie


    When she saw the snowmobile, Chloe had hoped Rudy would have a chance to explain himself on their way to the platform where the Errant Magpie had landed what seemed like half a lifetime ago.


    When she saw the snowmobile move, she knew better than to ask him.


    Rudy wove it between conifers fast enough to kick up dual tidal waves of snow. Chloe couldn''t even make out individual branches as they passed within what felt like millimeters of her head. She figured she wouldn''t make them out if they hit her, either. The kinetic energy would probably be enough to explode a significant portion of her body.


    Maybe that was hyperbole.


    Maybe.


    She supposed the snowmobile could go slower, but going slower meant giving the Kyrillos men-at-arms, and Stephan himself, more time to catch up. They''d gotten away from Stephan once, but Chloe didn''t understand how.


    In a mecha, fighting a noble one on one was mad, but not truly impossible. The machines could boost a psychic¡¯s output only so much. At that scale, kinetic energy could start to keep up with telekinetic. And a mecha could move fast enough to make it tough for the noble to target.


    On foot, though? With Stephan¡¯s powers, he should¡¯ve crushed Rudy with a wave of his hand. Or taken over his mind.


    Chloe shuddered, more at the latter than the former.


    They swerved onto the road, or rather path, between the estate and the landing pad. Chloe couldn''t exactly breathe easily ¨C low-hanging branches, weighed down with snow, almost touched the path ¨C, but she could at least bear to watch.


    They were maybe five minutes from the landing platform. The way Rudy drove, probably a lot less.


    A thought shot through Chloe. A bad thought.


    She gulped.


    ¡°Rudy,¡± she whispered, her flight suit transmitting the word to his.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°We''ve got a problem. A big one.¡±


    ¡°Lots,¡± he agreed. ¡°Which one?¡±


    ¡°It''s gonna take ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get the Magpie off the ground.¡±


    ¡°What! Why?¡±


    ¡°Tarkov actually shut it down when we landed,¡± Chloe yelled. ¡°It''s not like leaving it on standby. The last time Mom and Dad did it with the Mother Goose, it took us almost a half hour to get it started again.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that?¡± Rudy shrugged, which caused the snowmobile to swerve and Chloe to almost cry out before he, somehow, got it back on the path as casually as if nothing had happened. ¡°Planned on it.¡±


    Now that she looked, the snow had been disturbed by the wheeled vehicle they''d taken to the estate when they arrived. But she only saw one set of tracks. How had Rudy gotten back to the estate? For that matter, how had he stolen the Kyrillos vehicle without being spotted? ¡°You drove out here before you came to get me?¡±


    ¡°Something like that.¡±


    So help me Principle, Chloe thought, if he turns around and winks at me, we''re dead anyway and I may as well punch him.


    Fortunately, Rudy at least had the sense to keep his eyes on what passed for the road. He swerved around a fallen branch.


    They shot into the clearing surrounding the landing platform, then onto the platform itself. Then into the air above it, as the ramp and their speed launched them practically onto one of the transports'' wings.


    At least, it seemed that way to Chloe before she scrunched her eyes shut.


    They landed hard, shifting sideways, and snow hit Chloe''s flank hard enough she had to grab onto Rudy to keep from falling. They slid for a moment longer, then, finally, blessedly, stopped.


    Chloe opened her eyes.


    They were about a meter from the Errant Magpie''s entrance ramp.


    Shakily, she stumbled off the cycle and caught her breath.


    Rudy bounced off beside her. ¡°You okay, Clo?¡±


    No, she thought. I am not okay, you drive like a maniac, you are a maniac, we should be dead, it''s cold, and I still don''t trust you!


    She said, ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Rudy glanced back at the snowmobile, half covered in the white powder it was designed to cross. ¡°I''ve got to get me one of those. It''s even better than my bike.¡±


    She stared at him.


    He winked. But since it wasn''t going to kill her, Chloe let it go.


    She looked up at the Magpie. Its ramp had only a dusting of snow and two lines of ice ¨C snowy footprints that had turned to slush in the heated interior and refrozen when it opened to admit them. ¡°Who started the ship, Rudy?¡±


    He chewed his lip. ¡°About that.¡±


    ¡°I did, Highness.¡± Milissa poked her head out the hatch. The rest of her emerged a moment later, clad in a black and white flight suit that could have been twin to Chloe''s white one in both its design and the shape it covered. She gave a little wave. ¡°Um. Hello? I''m really glad you''re both safe? How am I supposed to say hi? I''m new to this adventure business, you know.¡±


    Chloe''s brain seemed incapable of processing the implications. All it could manage was to curl her consciousness up in a corner and let her survival instincts take over.


    Once they were in the air, they''d have time to talk.


    Weeks, if they jumped out of system.


    ¡°Maybe you should try ''all aboard,''¡± Rudy suggested. It took Chloe a moment to realize he was still talking about how to greet them. ¡°Dash it off in a hurry, but be cool about it. Like you expected somebody to pull a sick spin-stop right at your feet.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°I''ll write that down,¡± Milissa said. ¡°I expected nothing less, of course.¡±


    Chloe groaned. The last thing the world needed was somebody else with Rudy''s sense of humor. ¡°Could we actually get aboard instead of talking about it? You should''ve waited on the bridge and taken off as soon as we got here.¡±


    Milissa blinked. ¡°Taken off?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rudy said. ¡°You know, lifted us into the sky on wings of applied gravitics.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don''t know how to fly the Magpie,¡± Milissa said. ¡°I haven''t been off this planet since I was twelve! Aren''t you going to pilot it?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Heh. About that. It can''t be that different from a mecha, right?¡±


    ¡°I''ll fly it,¡± Chloe snapped. She stalked up the ramp and past Milissa, trying to remember the quickest route from the still-full mecha bay to the bridge. She heard the other two following at her heels, but she didn''t bother stopping until she slipped through the bridge doors and settled in beside the navigation console.


    From a distance, it had looked enough like the Mother Goose''s that Chloe thought, or at least hoped, she could pilot it.


    It looked less alike now that she could actually see what she was doing.


    If she couldn''t control it...


    She shook her head. "Of course I can," she muttered. "If I couldn''t, it would probably get us killed, and then what would be the point of worrying, right?"


    Her logic apparently didn''t impress the transport''s computer, which remained resolutely silent. She''d left Rudy and Milissa far enough behind they didn''t say anything, either.


    Chloe took a deep breath, pressed her hands to the control panels, and waited. The main screen lit, displaying the landing platform, and the touchpads beneath Chloe''s fingers emitted a familiar glow. So far, so good.


    Gently, she pressed her left hand into the pad and rolled it forward to the tips of her fingers. The transport shuddered and hummed and spat. For a moment, Chloe feared Milissa had made some mistake in the startup process and damaged the engine.


    Then the transport lurched upwards.


    Its armor could handle space dust hurtling into it at gigameters a second. When it scraped against the boughs of the towering New Kyrillopolis pines, they broke long before its wings did.


    The transport tipped, its external audio transmitting the screech of metal and crash of wood. It wavered, then shot upwards in an uncontrolled ascent. The acceleration pushed Chloe into her chair. Startled, she brought her palm down, and the ascent threatened to turn into a dive. The ground filled the main screen, and she instinctively smashed her hand flat.


    The transport hovered, shaking along with her hands.


    She gulped down a breath.


    So far, she thought, so good.


    Takeoffs and landings were supposed to be the hardest part. She couldn''t do much damage to the transport now that it was actually airborne.


    She hoped.


    She glanced over her shoulder when the bridge doors slid open.


    Rudy, rubbing his head and scowling, stumbled onto the bridge with one hand gripping a wall the whole way. "The hell? I thought you said you could fly this thing!"


    "I can," Chloe said. "Sort of."


    "''Sort of'' as in ''you''re not gonna get us killed?'' Or ''sort of'' as in ''you have no idea what you''re doing but you''re pushing buttons anyway?''"


    "Half of one, half of the other," Chloe said.


    Rudy shrugged. "Good enough for me."


    "Your head okay?"


    "Fortunately, I''m told I have a thick skull, so no harm done."


    ¡°And Milissa?¡±


    He nodded to the doorway, where she was in the process of stumbling onto the bridge. She clung to the wall for dear life. ¡°That wasn''t very smooth, Highness.¡±


    ¡°Will you live?¡± Chloe asked.


    Milissa nodded.


    ¡°Do you need to go to sickbay?¡±


    Milissa shook her head.


    ¡°Smooth enough, then,¡± Chloe said.


    Milissa tried for a nervous chuckle. Rudy, unsurprisingly, chuckled without any nerves at all. He strode to the weapons console beside Chloe and slid into the seat. ¡°Watch the flight path, by the way.¡±


    Chloe snapped her head around and just barely resisted the urge to juke to the side at his warning. When she saw clear skies above, she managed a nervous laugh of her own. ¡°Aren''t you supposed to be the one doing the crazy stunt and me the one ''whining'' about it?¡±


    ¡°Now you know how annoying you are.¡±


    She didn''t deign to answer.


    Now that she''d learned to adjust for the Magpie''s more sensitive controls, she managed to lift the transport without further damage. Her fingers spread across the pad and she focused her attention on the screen showing their location relative to the trees.


    ¡°Wait up a second,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°Do we have time?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± His own hands were on the weapons console. With a few flicks of his wrist, he activated the Magpie''s cannons and sent a stream of shells into its two sister ships. Clouds of smoke and dust and snow erupted from the landing platform. When they drifted away, there was no platform left, and the unshielded ships were little more than slag. ¡°Now we''ve got plenty of time.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Milissa said. ¡°Stephan can still come after you.¡± She gulped. ¡°After us.¡±


    ¡°You were right the first time,¡± Rudy said. ¡°We agreed, remember? You''d help us get off this rock, then you''d grab one of those mecha in the bay and head home.¡±


    ¡°I can''t,¡± she said.


    ¡°It''s not that hard, Milissa,¡± Chloe said, perhaps too quickly. ¡°The mecha have direct neural interfaces, right? Rudy or I can show you how to get hooked in, and the rest will come naturally.¡±


    ¡°That''s not what I mean.¡± Milissa looked away. Her gaze ended up on Rudy.


    Oh. Oh. Chloe brushed her hand against the touchpad, gently spinning the ship and giving her an excuse to turn back to the screen. She pressed her lips together and tried not to listen to the rest of the conversation. It wasn''t hers to have, and what she needed to talk to Rudy about could, evidently, wait.


    Chloe started.


    Rudy had risked his life for her even when he had Milissa waiting for him. Heck, they''d both risked their lives, although Chloe wasn''t sure Milissa was in much danger. Stephan wouldn''t hurt his own sister...


    Would he?


    What had Rudy said about monologuing? First symptom of villainy.


    Chloe''s shoulders slumped. She''d accused Rudy of helping her just because he wanted to get her in bed, of dumping her for the first willing girl they ran across. Especially the first of what he called the ''leggy noble type.'' She''d shunned Milissa''s friendship because she¡¯d resented her for taking Rudy''s away.


    But if Rudy had come back to the manor for Chloe, Milissa notwithstanding, then that theory went all to hell.


    He actually was the guy she''d hoped he would turn out to be, the decent guy who was there for her even if he thought she was crazy, the brave guy who would die for her even if she was just a friend.


    She hadn''t even been that to him.


    Swallowing, hard, she turned.


    Rudy and Milissa were both staring at her.


    Chloe shifted her feet.


    Why did they have to go and stare like that? Principle! She''d been about to leave them to themselves, even if it was because she''d been angry for all the wrong reasons.


    She probably didn''t have any right ones.


    ¡°Highness,¡± Milissa said, ¡°what did you think I meant?¡±


    Chloe fixed her gaze on her feet. ¡°It''s okay, Milissa, really. And Rudy. I mean, you don''t have to... on my account... It''s wonderful! That you''ve, you know, that you''re happy, and you''ve both been so kind to me ¨C¡±


    Rudy rose from his chair and walked over to hers. ¡°Chloe ¨C¡±


    ¡°No, you don''t have to explain,¡± she said. ¡°I''ve got no right to complain. You''ve done so very much, and I''m not even saying it''s wrong, you understand, only ¨C¡±


    ¡°Chloe ¨C¡±


    ¡°Don''t, Rudy. Principle knows why you''re doing this for me, but you have my sincerest thanks. I hope... it works out wonderfully for you, for both of you, okay?¡±


    He cupped both palms around her chin and pulled her, startled and squirming, into a kiss.


    She didn''t squirm for long.

 Chapter 66: Contingencies

    Chapter 66: Contingencies


    The Victor''s Boon.


    The winner of the Etemenos Cup ¨C in theory, the greatest mechaneer in the galaxy, although the tournament scene seemed sufficiently removed from actual combat for Ellie to doubt that title ¨C was always offered one favor by the Federal Senate in recognition of his achievement, as would once have been gifted by the emperor.


    Ellie doubted Marcel Avalon understood how much his offer of aid meant to her.


    Or, paradoxically, how little.


    Principle knew she appreciated the admiral''s offer. That he would help Jack, who had ever been his enemy, spoke volumes for his kindness. That he would expend so valuable a gift as the Victor''s Boon spoke volumes for his charity.


    None of which would matter.


    The Boon had to be something within the senate''s legal powers, and there were provisions for denying a Boon the senate deemed too dangerous or imprudent.


    Provisions, but no precedents since long before Emperor Theophilos Astroykos died in the space outside Etemenos. Denying a Boon was political suicide and politics had become Etemenos''s life.


    ¡°There''s a first time for everything,¡± Ellie muttered. She ignored the hard glances she got from the other people on the broad promenade outside Avalon''s manor-suite. Servants, which was what his neighbors took her for, were supposed to be seen, not heard.


    Ellie didn''t believe the senate would actually pardon Jack, though it was technically within its rights, its precious legal rights, to do so. Or perhaps only Ferrill valued the law ¨C assuming she wasn''t just hiding behind it.


    Regardless, the Federal Senate wanted Chloe. To get her, they needed Jack.


    The only question was which faction in the senate would be forced to suffer the political fallout of refusing what, on the surface, would seem a reasonable Victor''s Boon.


    Ellie had told Avalon as much, but he refused to believe it.


    Perhaps Ellie misjudged the situation. Chloe would have to come to Etemenos well ahead of the end of the Etemenos Cup. She''d already be in the senatorial trap by the time Jack''s fate was decided.


    ¡°Have to buck up,¡± Ellie reminded herself. Jack''s fate rested in Avalon''s hands and the senate''s. She could no more stage a rescue in a world-city where the very walls would be against her than she could fly unaided between the stars.


    She could deliver a warning, though.


    Jack was relying on her to do it.


    And, she thought with a bittersweet mix of pride and anger and sorrow, she ought to be up to the task. Her son, her Alex, had been even closer to martial perfection than Marcel Avalon.


    Ellie felt as if her old wounds had been broken open again, but also as if some kind soul had given her medical nanopaste for them. Just as Avalon could never walk without a limp unless he consented to having his leg broken again and allowed to properly heal, so Ellie felt about her heart. He had broken it again when he told her the truth about Alex. She would come back stronger and happier for it. The sorrow would never go away, the anger would never stop being just. Someday, she knew, the pride would eclipse both.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Perhaps it already had.


    Perhaps, Ellie thought, she was dawdling. Unless she wanted to suffer another such wound ¨C and oh, Merciful Principle, she did not! ¨C she had to find Chloe before the Feds did.


    Trouble was, she didn''t have the first idea how.


    She wandered Etemenos''s streets, letting the few people who even noticed her assume she was Marcel Avalon''s servant. There weren''t many advantages to being a hybrid on Etemenos, but she''d found at least one. To most people, she was a non-person, and that meant she wasn''t worth paying attention to. If she''d had any kind of goal, anywhere worth looking, she probably could have gotten past any civilian security simply because they didn''t deign to notice her.


    Ellie considered trying to see Jack again. Last time, she''d gone with President Ferrill''s dispensation, but she might be able to get back to him with a combination of social invisibility and expired documents.


    Or, she might get arrested and leave Chloe in the lurch.


    As much as she missed Jack, Ellie knew neither of them could afford to risk that.


    Instead, she descended a smooth-flowing ''sidewalk'' into a sort of park or garden. The promenade had rotated into contact with it for the moment, answering her questions about how Etemenos''s citizens grew flowers: with the same energy keeping the rest of the world-city in motion. Seven miniature suns powered the interlocking, planetary-scale rings. Some of their energy filtered up to heat the ground the plants grew in, and more powered the lights glowing healthily above them.


    It seemed like a lot of work to Ellie, but the results were undeniably beautiful.


    Ellie paused beside a cluster of small flowers, brilliant in their contrasting black and gold. She smiled. Corin Basilios had given her a bouquet of these several lifetimes ago. He''d claimed they were his favorites. Later, Ellie found out they belonged to his eldest sister, but the thought hadn''t counted to her at the time.


    Ellie sighed.


    Seeing a noble at war had reminded her of the noble who fathered her son. Thinking of Corin reminded her of the noble she''d last seen fight.


    Ellie had been operating under the assumption she couldn''t possibly know where Chloe was. She still didn''t.


    She did, however, know who Chloe had been with.


    Stephan Kyrillos.


    Not just liege-lord to Corin Basillios, not just the mechaneer-aristocrat who went by the moniker Black Rook.


    During the Civil War, rumors had always swirled around the Kyrillos family. Stephan ranked high among the young heroes of the mechaneer-aristocracy, yes. When his bannermen weren¡¯t listening, though, or when they weren¡¯t watching their words carefully, they told a different tale.


    Even the nobles had needed an intelligence service. The Kyrilloses were supposed to have sullied their honor to provide it. Corin had once whispered to Ellie that he believed his liege lord had gone so far as to rule over criminals. Ellie had even seen them from time to time, visitors from Oligarchial space, crude, intense, treated with guest rights and shepherded into the counsel of the Kyrillos family.


    The mechaneer-aristocrats fell in battle. Outnumbered a thousand to one. Perhaps outflown, for all their power. They lost the Civil War.


    The Kronistine Syndicate remained.


    Ellie couldn¡¯t know for sure it was the remnants of the Kyrillos intelligence network. She couldn¡¯t know for sure if it remained loyal to its old masters.


    She believed both, because she had no other choice.


    The Syndicate traded on vice and secrets and power. They would maintain offices in Etemenos, the heart of all three in human space.


    When Chloe came ¨C and she would come, of that Ellie had no doubt ¨C she would probably make use of the Syndicate to get into the world-city.


    Ellie didn''t have to find anyone.


    She just had to find a way to persuade Etemenos''s most dangerous criminals to find her.

 Chapter 67: A Promise

    Chapter 67: A Promise


    Relief and confusion, longing and fear raged through Chloe''s mind.


    So she ignored her mind and concentrated on what her body was telling her ¨C which was that Rudy was, for whatever reason, kissing her, and that was exactly how things should be, and shouldn''t she do her share, too?


    She listened so well, she almost slipped from her chair.


    He caught her effortlessly and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She ignored the nagging voice that said he could hold her so easily because the Errant Magpie was still running on New Kyrillopolis gravity rather than a full one gee. Her subconscious sure knew how to spoil a mood.


    So, it seemed, did Milissa Kyrillos, because she chose that moment to gasp, ¡°Highness, Rudolf!¡±


    Chloe came up for air, thinking plenty of uncharitable thoughts even as she knew Milissa probably didn''t deserve them ¨C


    And saw the sleek black mecha rising from the treetops.


    Chloe stumbled back into her chair and slapped her hands on the navigation console, swerving the Magpie up toward the stratosphere.


    Rudy was already back at the weapons console, swearing blasphemously just enough under his breath Chloe didn''t call him on it. Not that she didn''t sympathize. ¡°It''s Stephan, all right,¡± he said. ¡°Get us out of this gravity well!¡±


    ¡°I''ll try,¡± Chloe said. She pressed her fingertips harder into the touchpad, not that it would make the ship fly faster. ¡°Milissa, can you get him on channel? Maybe we can convince him to let us go.¡±


    ¡°He won''t listen,¡± Milissa said.


    ¡°We have to try!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± the Kyrillos girl said, ¡°but just know it''s not going to work.¡±


    ¡°Let''s cross that bridge before we burn it,¡± Rudy said. ¡°If nothing else, I want Steph to know you''re on board. Maybe he won''t just blow us out of the sky.¡±


    ¡°He knows,¡± Milissa said. ¡°Can''t you feel it?¡±


    Rudy looked mystified, but once Milissa mentioned it, Chloe did feel a tension, a coldness in the air she hadn''t noticed before. She shivered. She had felt it once: in the control room of New Kyrillopolis when Lord Brise brought Stephan back. Supposedly unconscious Stephan, but now Chloe wondered. She asked, ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°My brother''s mind,¡± Milissa said.


    Chloe tried to shut out the feeling and resist the urge to rub the goosebumps emerging on her arms. Thinking about the chill only seemed to make it worse, but Chloe didn''t know how to stop.


    Stephan''s voice erupted in her head. She was just grateful it wasn''t directed at her. At least, not yet.


    You have been very bad, Milissa, he thought. You have betrayed your family.


    ¡°That''s not true,¡± Chloe cried. ¡°She just did what she thought was right! What you swore your duty was, you stinking liar!¡±


    Rudy glanced at her. ¡°Did I miss something?¡±


    Chloe held up a hand to stay his questions. She needed all her concentration to fly and stay sane at the same time.


    Haven''t we been busy, Stephan thought. Chloe imagined his mocking smile, or maybe he was imagining it and somehow projecting it to her. Forming telepathic links with your little friends, sister? You sold yourself short before.


    I didn''t mean to do it, Milissa thought. That would have been horribly rude! But I was planning on trying eventually so we could do what we had to do, and, well, their emotions were really strong just now and it sort of, um... Her Highness can hear me, can''t she?


    That''s rather the point of telepathic links, yes, Stephan thought.


    Chloe glanced at Milissa, who had flushed scarlet beneath her tan.


    I didn''t mean to, the Kyrillos girl repeated.


    Chloe tried to form her thoughts into the clearest words she could without actually speaking: I believe you, Milissa.


    How impressive, Milissa, Stephan thought. I wonder if the receptiveness of the host improves the clarity of the contact, or if you''re simply a better telepath than you believed yourself to be.


    Just leave us alone, Stephan, please, Milissa thought. Don''t hurt them! They don''t deserve it.


    This is not about what anyone deserves, Milissa. It is about the harm they can do, and the harm that can be done to them.


    ¡°If you want to talk to us, Stephan,¡± Chloe said aloud, ¡°I''m pretty sure you know how to call your own transport. You leave Rudy out of the conversation, you''ve got nothing to say to any of us.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, Highness,¡± Stephan said.


    It took Chloe a second to realize the voice came not from her mind but from the corner of the ship''s main screen where its communications suite displayed video feed from the Black Rook. The ship felt warmer than it had a moment before.


    Stephan''s expression wasn''t.


    ¡°Heya, Steph,¡± Rudy said. ¡°You may not realize this, but we were in the middle of a conversation before you showed up.¡±


    Stephan snorted. ¡°You were leading Her Highness astray, Her Highness was willingly straying, and my sister was failing to avoid voyeurism. You have an interesting definition of ''conversation.''¡±


    ¡°I''m always interesting,¡± Rudy said. ¡°It''s among the many things that set you and me apart.¡±


    Chloe closed her eyes. Visibly rolling them seemed like it wouldn''t show proper solidarity.


    ¡°You see, Highness, Milissa,¡± Stephan said, ¡°why I preferred to conduct this conversation in private.¡±


    Rudy laughed. ¡°Did I spoil your psychic slumber party, Steph?¡±


    ¡°Be silent,¡± Stephan said. His voice, or maybe the thought behind it, made Chloe shudder.


    Rudy seemed unfazed. In fact, he didn''t even seem to notice.


    ¡°Chloe gets to tell me to shut up, and most of the time I''ll listen because, hell, I like listening to her voice even more than mine,¡± Rudy said. ¡°My brother gets to tell me to shut up, and once in a blue moon I''ll listen because even though he''s a capital-D dick, he actually knows what he''s talking about.


    ¡°You, Steph? You can shut your own damn pie hole.¡±


    Stephan turned his gaze to Chloe, apparently trying to ignore Rudy. The next person to pull that off would, in her experience, be the first. ¡°I will catch up to that ship soon, Highness. You and Milissa will not be harmed when I do. If you both willingly return before I arrive, your dear Mr. Algreil will not be, either.¡±


    Milissa said, ¡°You really mean that, Stephan?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Mili. I know you want the best for him, however misguided you may be, and once he is safely away he is no longer our concern.¡±


    ¡°Don''t listen, Milissa,¡± Chloe said, glad of the distraction the Kyrillos girl had caused. A few more seconds and she would have been considering Stephan''s offer.


    ¡°But ¨C¡±


    ¡°My living or dying has nothing to do with you, Steph,¡± Rudy said. ¡°You come after us, I''ll kick your ass back to the original Kyrillopolis.¡±


    ¡°Your time and my patience both grow short, Highness,¡± Stephan said. ¡°I extend even this generosity. If you and Milissa board the mecha in the Errant Magpie''s bays and exit the ship before I reach it, I will permit Algreil to take his stolen vessel to wherever his fate lies.¡±


    Chloe could still sense Milissa''s thoughts enough to know the Kyrillos girl wanted badly to agree. She was terrified for Rudy and Chloe and she feared she''d done wrong.


    ¡°You give us your word that Rudy will go unharmed?¡± Chloe asked Stephan. Rudy started to snap at her, but she held up a hand again. For a wonder, he actually stopped.


    Stephan said, ¡°Of course I do.¡±


    ¡°Your solemn oath?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Is it worth as much as your oath of featly to the Astroykos Dynasty?¡±


    Stephan froze.


    Slowly, icily, he said, ¡°You have less than two hours to reconsider, Highness, Milissa. See that you have disembarked, or your friend dies.¡±


    His face vanished from the screen and the cold from Chloe''s thoughts.


    Her bravado died with it.


    Rudy''s hadn''t. ¡°Nice line at the end, Clo.¡±


    She nodded weakly.


    He said, ¡°You know what has to happen now, right?¡±


    Chloe and Milissa both looked to him.


    ¡°I have to fight him,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°You can''t,¡± Milissa said. ¡°You just... can''t.¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, Milissa,¡± Rudy said. ¡°But yes, I can. If you didn''t want this, you shouldn''t have told me he was gonna kill Chloe.¡±


    ¡°Kill me!¡± Chloe stared. ¡°I figured I might be held prisoner, or even shot while escaping, but since when was Stephan going to kill me in cold blood?¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°I don''t know,¡± Milissa sputtered. ¡°I could be wrong. It''s all such a mess ¨C he was so angry ¨C I just felt like ¨C¡±


    ¡°It''s okay,¡± Chloe said. Locking the ship''s course away from New Kyrillopolis and its sun, she rose from her chair and swept across the bridge to join Milissa at hers. She put a hand on the young noblewoman''s shoulder. ¡°Just calm down, Milissa.¡±


    ¡°It''s not okay.¡± Milissa hung her head. ¡°I didn''t mean the Crimson Ph... Rudolf couldn''t fight Stephan because I didn''t want them to fight. Not that I do! It''s just, if he does, well ¨C¡±


    ¡°Stephan will kill him,¡± Chloe said.


    Milissa nodded.


    ¡°And here I thought,¡± Rudy said, ¡°you were a fan.¡±


    Again, Chloe and Milissa both looked to him.


    He wore the cocky grin Chloe hadn''t seen nearly enough of lately. His eyes twinkled and his smile sparkled and he leaned over the row of consoles between the vacant captain''s chair and Milissa''s seat, all coiled predatory grace. ¡°You ladies should have more faith in me.¡±


    ¡°This isn''t a game, Rudy,¡± Chloe said. ¡°You''ve seen what Stephan can do. What he did back at the battlecruiser! You can''t seriously expect to go against him and win.¡±


    ¡°Marcel managed to pull it off,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°My brother fought the Divine Auric Drake?¡± Milissa''s eyes widened. ¡°And he, and you, didn''t tell me? That must have been something to see!¡±


    ¡°Admiral Avalon managed, maybe, to live through fighting Stephan,¡± Chloe said. ¡°Assuming we believe the recording of President Ferrill''s speech. He didn''t manage to kill Stephan, or even hurt his body except with sympathetic pain. Avalon didn''t manage to catch or kill us, which was what he came for. He didn''t do any of what he did accomplish without a full destroyer''s company of men, mecha and capital ship weaponry. Which, in case you haven''t noticed, we aren''t exactly packing here on the Magpie.¡±


    Milissa blanched. Apparently, she hadn''t realized just how strong her brother was.


    She''d already believed Rudy couldn''t survive going against him, and she was a fan.


    ¡°You have a better idea, Clo?¡± Rudy asked.


    ¡°I''ll stop him,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°Really.¡± Rudy cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Did I miss the extinction-level event your awakening is supposed to be?¡±


    ¡°It wouldn''t be like that,¡± Milissa said. ¡°I think.¡±


    ¡°You came aboard to train me, right, Milissa?¡± Chloe asked. ¡°When we were connected, I saw, or felt, I guess, what you meant when you said you couldn''t leave.¡±


    The Kyrillos girl nodded. ¡°It''s what Stephan should have done. We are oath-sworn to serve your house, Highness, and if my brother has forgotten his duty, I can only remind him by doing it for him until he remembers.¡±


    Chloe turned back to Rudy. ¡°See, Rudy? It''s my turn to protect you.¡± Again, she thought, not that it would balance the scales for everything he''d done. Chloe wasn''t an oligarch or an oligarch''s daughter. If Rudy owed her his life a thousand times over, she''d give hers and gladly all the same.


    She knew he felt the same way, even if he''d never admit it.


    Milissa tugged at her arm. ¡°Er, Highness?¡±


    ¡°Mm?¡±


    ¡°I can''t actually teach you anything worth using in two hours. Not without ¨C what did Rudolph call it? An extinction-level event. Stephan was right about us having to be really careful. And I don''t actually know any combat powers, anyway.¡±


    Chloe stared at her. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°What''s more, I ¨C¡± Milissa gulped. ¡°Even if I could teach you and it was perfectly safe, if you were going to use my training to hurt Stephan, or kill him, I would not give it.¡±


    ¡°Even if he was trying to do the same to us?¡± Rudy asked.


    Sweat beaded on Milissa''s brow. She clenched her hands on the arms of her chair. ¡°I''d... I''d like to say I''d die first. I think I would. I hope so.¡±


    Rudy sighed. ¡°Scratch that plan, then.¡±


    ¡°We have to give in,¡± Milissa said. ¡°It''s the only way! Stephan will kill you, Rudolf, and if he doesn''t calm down, just being near him may kill me even if he tries to keep me safe.¡±


    Chloe winced. ¡°Your empathy is that strong?¡±


    ¡°With my own brother, who is also the most powerful psychic I''ve ever known? On the same planet ¨C under the same roof? Oh, Principle, yes.¡± Milissa shuddered. ¡°I felt like I was going to freeze to death when he was talking to me telepathically just now. It wasn''t anything he tried to do, either.¡±


    ¡°That''s the other reason you said you couldn''t go back,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± Milissa said.


    ¡°Why do you think you''d be safe if we agreed to Stephan''s bargain?¡± Chloe asked.


    ¡°Which is not going to happen,¡± Rudy said. ¡°So why ask?¡±


    Milissa flicked a glance his way, but answered Chloe''s question first. ¡°Getting his way always calms Stephan down. Especially where you''re concerned, Highness. He''s more than mad about your leaving. He''s terrified.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know!¡± Milissa''s shoulders slumped further.


    ¡°Do you think,¡± Chloe asked, ¡°he''d really let Rudy go?¡±


    ¡°He gave his word,¡± Milissa said. Her voice wavered. ¡°Normally, he doesn''t swear a lot of oaths because he doesn''t like to break them. Anyway, why wouldn''t he let Rudolf go?¡±


    ¡°Because I''m going to beat him,¡± Rudy repeated.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Chloe frowned. ¡°I''m going to Etemenos to save my dad. If you''re going to save your brother and you could rescue them both...¡±


    ¡°I''d still have to fight Stephan to do it,¡± Rudy said. ¡°He can''t let me go, Chloe. I know where this planet is, where his family is. Hell, if you went back, I''d know where you were. Stephan can''t let somebody who knows that much walk into the heart of Fed power.¡±


    ¡°He''d kill you for sure,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy nodded.


    Milissa sniffled.


    Rudy lay his hand over Chloe''s, covering both girls'' with a single gesture. ¡°Milissa,¡± he said, ¡°I''ll try not to kill him unless there''s no other way to stop him. That''s the most I can give.¡±


    ¡°It''ll have to be enough,¡± the Kyrillos girl said, not looking up.


    ¡°And Chloe ¨C¡± Rudy hesitated. He swallowed hard. ¡°I need to talk to you. Alone.¡±


    ¡°I trust Milissa,¡± Chloe said. ¡°She''s risked her life for us.¡±


    ¡°I trust her, too,¡± Rudy said, ¡°but this is a private conversation.¡±


    ¡°Rudy...¡±


    ¡°It''s all right, Highness,¡± Milissa said. She looked up, her old bright smile back. Her stratosphere blue eyes even twinkled as she said, ¡°I understand completely. I''ll watch the ship and make sure to call you if anything happens.¡±


    ¡°That''s not necessary,¡± Chloe said. ¡°I think we should stick together.¡±


    ¡°You''re being very polite, Highness,¡± Milissa said, ¡°but you don''t have to worry about me. The two of you haven''t been alone in a long time, and, well, if Rudolf is going off to fight, I''m sure he wants to say goodbye without a nosy busybody like me around!¡±


    Chloe flushed.


    ¡°Don''t worry, I promise I''ll keep my mind to myself,¡± Milissa said. ¡°It was an accident earlier, and only because we were so close. Besides, if I''m going to be teaching you barriers, I really should work on mine.¡±


    ¡°You''re a real humanitarian, Milissa,¡± Chloe said dryly. Had Rudy put her up to this? She whirled on him ¨C


    And saw the laugh he was fighting a losing battle against as he watched the conversation.


    Okay, so maybe he hadn''t planned it.


    Chloe was willing to accept it was just serendipity.


    Which didn''t make Rudy innocent, exactly, but, as with the wink on the landing platform, she had to give him a little slack now and then when he''d done so much for her.


    Or a lot of slack.


    Besides, there was plenty they needed to talk about.


    She watched him stifle his chuckle, met his eyes. She nodded once.


    They walked off the bridge together.


    She had intended to stop there in case they had to rush back, but Rudy kept walking. She knew his direction: the mecha bay.


    She matched his pace.


    ¡°You''re not going to wait two hours to take Stephan on, are you, Rudy?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I''ve got to fight him at that old space station. I''ve got about ten minutes to get out there before he''s past it.¡±


    ¡°You really believe he''ll stop?¡±


    ¡°Of course he will,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Stephan believes I''m the problem. He probably has to believe it, because he can''t bring himself to think Milissa is, and if you are, he''s screwed anyway.¡±


    ¡°Maybe you are the problem,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy paused before he reached the elevator down to the mecha bay. ¡°For Stephan?¡±


    Chloe didn''t answer. She slipped her hands around his, told herself she''d meant to, and gently tugged at his arm until he faced her.


    ¡°Or for you?¡± Rudy asked.


    Chloe sighed. ¡°Maybe both.¡±


    Rudy met her eyes. In the Magpie''s over-illuminated hallway, his hair seemed to glow with a fiery light of its own, and his deep olive skin seemed etched in stark outlines. Chloe unconsciously traced the lines on his boyish face.


    She wanted so badly to believe in him again.


    ¡°Rudy,¡± she whispered, ¡°why didn''t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°About your parents and Otto?¡± He sighed. ¡°Honestly, Clo, I didn''t know when to.¡±


    ¡°How about from the very beginning?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t know in the beginning,¡± Rudy said. ¡°I should have. Otto was sure pissed I didn''t.¡± He smiled for a moment, but it didn''t last. ¡°He came to Wellach to capture you or take you into protective custody. It amounts to the same thing. I was supposed to help. So he gave me a subliminal briefing.¡±


    ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°A recording that plays in your sleep,¡± Rudy said. ¡°That''s... not what it actually is, but it''s the easiest way I can describe it. It imparts information so clearly it''s like you can play it back in your head.¡±


    ¡°So why didn''t you know?¡±


    ¡°They give me one hell of a headache. I''m not sure why. Something to do with how I like to live in the moment, maybe.¡± He didn''t even try to smile this time. ¡°The point is, I didn''t take the thing. Haven''t used one in years, and Otto should have known it.¡±


    ¡°When did you find out?¡±


    ¡°At the Wellach Cup. I saw your parents in the booth with Otto. Before that, I''d known he''d done something at the port city and he had somebody under lock and key at the arcology. It didn''t take much to put two and two together.¡±


    ¡°Why not tell me then?¡±


    ¡°Because I didn''t know what Otto was planning to do with, for, or to you. Hell, I wouldn''t have put it past him to cut a deal with the Feds, although I may have been wrong about that.¡±


    ¡°If he had my parents in his private box ¨C¡±


    ¡°Otto''s killed people in his private box before,¡± Rudy said flatly.


    ¡°Sweet Principle!¡± Chloe''s eyes widened. ¡°And you say Stephan''s a gangster?¡±


    Rudy shrugged. ¡°I didn''t say it wasn''t legal for Otto to kill them at the time.¡±


    Chloe wondered how that worked. But not enough to interrupt the rest of their conversation. If ¨C when ¨C Rudy came back, they''d have weeks to talk.


    ¡°And you never thought it was okay to tell me afterward?¡±


    ¡°I finally decided to take you to them, try and slip by Otto if we could and find out what he wanted with you if not. But I figured, what the hell. She''s gonna see her parents in an hour, why not make it a surprise? I thought you''d get a kick out of it.¡±


    ¡°And then the Reformer attacked.¡±


    Rudy nodded. ¡°Be honest, Chloe. Would you really have been happier if I''d told you that your parents were on an arcology that you''d just seen explode in nuclear fire?¡±


    Chloe shook her head.


    ¡°After that, we fought, and you had a hunch, and Stephan''s men dragged us out to the boondocks here. The next thing I heard about your parents was that your dad was gonna get strung up alongside Otto for crimes against the people and state. Until then I was operating under the assumption they probably didn''t make it out.¡± Rudy cupped the hand on his cheek. ¡°And in the meantime, Stephan told you what I never bothered to.¡±


    They were about the same height, so she had no problem leaning forward and kissing him.


    It wasn''t like the kiss he''d started. That had gone on so long and got so enthralling, Chloe figured it was probably almost as indecent as what it seemed to be a prelude to. When she kissed him, it was lightly, and fast enough he didn''t have time to pull her into a longer one.


    But if the quantity was lacking, she thought she packed quite a bit of quality in. At least, judging from the smile she seemed to have kissed onto his lips, he liked it just fine.


    ¡°I do trust you, Rudy,¡± she said. ¡°I''m sorry for ever doubting you, and it won''t happen again.¡±


    He took a deep breath. ¡°You''re going to have to trust me again.¡±


    ¡°About fighting Stephan?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Let me help,¡± she said. ¡°I don''t know how to do much of anything, but if I can figure it out quickly, maybe ¨C¡±


    ¡°No, Chloe.¡± Rudy clasped both her hands, squeezed them. ¡°You wouldn''t be able to help.¡±


    ¡°How can you think you can do this?¡±


    ¡°I can''t tell you.¡±


    ¡°What? Why not?¡±


    ¡°I can''t tell you that, either.¡±


    Chloe frowned. But she squared her shoulders and nodded. ¡°It sounds really dumb,¡± she said, ¡°but I did promise not to doubt you again. You just better not be wrong, Rudy Kaine Algreil.¡±


    ¡°I''m not, Chloe. I know that now. You have my word. My, uh... my oath.¡±


    ¡°Don''t try to talk like a nob, Rudy,¡± she said. ¡°It doesn''t suit you.¡±


    ¡°I promise I''ll come back to you,¡± he said.


    Chloe''s breath caught. She took a second to collect herself, and while she did, the elevator doors swung open.


    Rudy stepped backwards through them.


    ¡°Rudy,¡± Chloe called.


    He met her eyes.


    She said, ¡°I''ll be waiting.¡±

 Chapter 68: Castling

    Chapter 68: Castling


    Stephan Kyrillos''s face appeared on Rudy''s screen. His dark eyes were smoldering coals in the shadows of his face. With the weird illumination from his mecha¡¯s screens highlighting his beak of a nose and the blackness of those stratosphere blues, he almost looked like his raven namesake.


    He snarled, "Where is the Empress?"


    "Safe," Rudy said. In contrast to Stephan, he kept his voice cool, calm and collected. Also, condescending. Just like big bro taught him. ¡°Parked somehwere on this station where you''re not going to find her.¡±


    Realistically, Rudy didn''t have much of a shot of beating Stephan. Sure, the aristocratic mecha Rudy had taken from the Magpie''s bay was a beautiful machine, and close enough in design to the Epee he felt comfortable with its controls. Didn''t mean he could use it to solo a nob.


    When had he ever been realistic about his chances, though? This seemed like a bad time to start.


    Besides, he only had two alternatives.


    One was to let Chloe try to help using powers she didn''t even begin to understand in a combat situation she''d never been in against an opponent she didn''t want to fight.


    Not gonna happen. At best, she''d flip out and vaporize both him and Stephan and make the question academic, and Rudy didn''t consider that a win for Team Crimson Phoenix. Or Team Invincible Titanian Battle Princess, either, since it would probably make Chloe go crazy if it didn''t kill her, too. At worst, and far more likely in his estimation, Chloe would just get in his way.


    Two was to knuckle under to Stephan''s demands and let him take Chloe back to New Kyrillopolis.


    Not gonna happen, either.


    So, Rudy had to fight Stephan, and he had to win, and, since he felt especially cocky and/or lucky, he could even shoot for surviving the experience.


    "Her Highness is not safe," Stephan said. "She''s with you, and you''re a damned fool, perhaps literally, who is leading both her and my sister into a trap."


    "And Milissa said you''d kill Chloe if you were the least bit afraid of her," Rudy countered. "From where I''m sitting, Steph, you''re a hell of a lot less safe than I am."


    "Milissa is a damned fool as well, more so than I could ever have imagined of my own blood. I should have guessed as much, considering her preference in tournament mechaneers."


    "You''re too hard on her," Rudy said. "I think it shows what a discerning judge of character she is. For instance, given the choice of sticking with you or joining yours truly, she made the right call."


    "You bastard ¨C"


    "Unfair," Rudy said.


    "What?"


    "I was my parents'' second child. They''d been married for, like, fifteen years when I was born. You can throw out plenty of epithets, and for all I know that one may even apply to my brother, but there''s no way I could be a bastard."


    "Damn you, Algreil," Stephan spat. "If it weren''t for you, the Empress would have been mine."


    Wrong again, Steph, Rudy thought. But I''m not gonna help you figure that out considering that she may need the ambiguity to keep ahead of you should, by some cosmically unlikely twist, the Crimson Phoenix actually lose.


    Not, Rudy added to himself, that he was going to.


    Crimson Phoenix and Black Rook faced off on the surface of the great dark industrial station orbiting New Kyrillopolis. Spires of now-useless metal rose like skyscrapers, or like the great pines of the planet below. Only the tallest reached the light of New Kyrillopolis''s sun, and the Black Rook wasn''t obliging by giving off light of his own. Rudy could see the black mecha shifting between the spires, circling him like a great cat ¨C or a bird of prey.


    No need to make things easy on Steph. Rudy switched his communications channel to receive only and, a minute later, dropped to minimum power and leaned against one of the station''s walls.


    Stephan''s mecha coasted to the rim of one of the station''s outer arms. It crouched there, looking very much like its avian namesake, a point of raven blackness against the backdrop of stars.


    "I won''t insult you by offering surrender," Stephan said. "You wouldn''t take it, and frankly, at this point, I''d probably have to kill you anyway. I could never trust you to live. I''d have to lock up my little sister."


    "I tend to have that effect on women," Rudy said. Somehow, the retort just didn''t have the same punch when Stephan couldn''t hear him.


    The Black Rook''s thrusters flared again and he took to the spaceways, gradually circling toward the center of the dead station. Rudy waited, watching for the slightest hint of hesitation that would indicate Stephan''s sensors had detected him.


    It came sooner than Rudy would have liked.


    As soon as he saw the Black Rook hesitate before turning, the Crimson Phoenix exploded from his hiding place.


    Not a moment too soon. Said hiding place exploded with telekinetic force, sending shrapnel clanking off Rudy''s mecha''s back. Before Stephan could adjust his aim, Rudy had ducked behind a spire-like protrusion. It buckled under a series of blasts, but by then Rudy was already on the move, forcing the Black Rook lower.


    He couldn''t fight Stephan''s powers at long range. He needed the mechaneer-aristocrat up close and personal.


    He might not be able to fight Stephan''s powers at point-blank range, either, but at least he had a chance.


    He hoped.


    Rudy felt a faint shudder through his mecha''s legs as the Black Rook''s feet clanged against the station''s hull.


    So far, so good.


    Still, he had to keep bobbing and weaving through the spires. Stephan was rapidly chewing through what little inert metal blocked his line of sight.


    As if to underscore the point, a bolt of concentrated mental force ripped through the hull beside Rudy. Stephan apparently didn''t care about damaging his family''s old station, not that Rudy had expected any different.


    "I must confess," Stephan said, "in light of your earlier boldness, I really hadn''t expected you to slink around like a common thief, Mr. Algreil."


    And I must confess, Rudy thought, I totally did expect you to be as much of a pompous blowhard as ever.


    "But then, I suppose that fits the Crimson Phoenix''s modus operandi ¨C all style, no substance."


    Rudy felt his grin starting to slip. He knew perfectly well what Stephan was doing and tried to tell himself not to let the asshole get away with it. But damn, it was hard not to.


    "They don''t call you the Crimson Chicken for nothing, do they?"


    Rudy started to step out, to lower the mecha-sized rifle in his hand.


    Chloe''s face appeared in his mind''s eye.


    He''d promised he''d come back to her.


    Couldn''t do that if he got himself killed because of Stephan smarting off.


    Couldn''t very well let her down.


    Rudy withdrew his rifle, crouched against a particularly sturdy-looking wall, and waited.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Stephan kept taunting and blasting ¨C and coming closer. Rudy ignored the first two and fixed his whole attention on the third. He found he could read the other mecha''s movements just by feeling its rhythmic footfalls, no sensors required. Stephan wasn''t bothering with stealth. Apparently, he didn''t think he had to.


    Rudy would enjoy demonstrating how wrong he was.


    Slowly, inexorably, the Black Rook approached the Crimson Phoenix.


    Rudy found himself holding his breath, forced it out. He had to be loose, relaxed. What was he so nervous about? He''d said, believed, he could handle the Black Rook. Hell, Marcel Avalon had apparently sufficed to drive Stephan off back at the battlecruiser, and Rudy sure as hell wasn''t about to come up short in comparison to him.


    Still, the power of those telekinetic blasts was more than a little unnerving. Stephan didn''t seem all that under control, and being out of control was not necessarily a bad thing for a mechaneer-aristocrat. Control was what kept their destructive powers in check. Lose it, and they could do a hell of a lot of damage.


    Stephan''s footfalls sounded close now. Rudy braced himself, rifle in one hand, sword in the other. He hadn''t bothered with the usual sword and board loadout. He didn''t think a shield would do him any good against Stephan''s firepower, and anyway, defensiveness just wasn''t his style.


    Stephan stepped forward.


    Rudy lunged.


    His sword passed through empty space, and only mechaneer''s reflexes saved him from sprawling onto the station''s hull.


    "The hell ¨C!" he managed, before a telekinetically-propelled hunk of metal slammed his mecha into a spire.


    Rudy struggled to his feet and lit his sensors, sweeping desperately for some sign of his attacker.


    The Black Rook stood almost a kilometer away.


    He¡¯d used telekinesis to mimic his footfalls.


    Rudy scrambled back into cover before Stephan could blast him again. His mecha already flashed yellow warning indicators from where it had smashed into the space station.


    "Very clever of you not to use your sensors, Crimson Phoenix," the Black Rook said. Rudy could practically hear his smirk. "Unfortunately, you are not the only one who can be clever."


    Rudy flicked his communications transmitter back on. "What if I hadn''t been listening?" he snapped, more to cover his mistake then because he cared about the answer.


    "Then I would have had to take the station apart more slowly," Stephan said.


    "Pretty wussy way to fight me," Rudy said. "I thought you nobs were all about the thrill of honorable combat and all that shit."


    "Most of my colleagues are, I fear, afflicted with such nonsense. It lost them the Civil War. I''m still alive, still fighting, because I subscribe to a more pragmatic philosophy."


    "You''re always going on about what ''lost'' the Civil War, Steph," Rudy said. "It ever occur to you that maybe something won it?"


    "The treachery of the House of Commons, you mean?"


    "Nah," Rudy said. "Us Oligarchs being bigger bastards than you nobs could ever hope to be."


    New Kyrillopolis''s sun rose over the station''s horizon ¨C at Rudy''s back.


    He surged from his hiding place at maximum burn, all thrusters blazing and both legs pumping hard enough to leave dents in the station''s hull. He didn''t dare snap off a shot from his rifle. The recoil would rob him of precious milliseconds.


    By the time Stephan''s mecha adjusted its screens for the unexpected glare, Rudy was on him.


    He snapped a kick to the Black Rook''s leg and let the momentum of the impact swing Stephan''s machine into an upward slash of monomolecular-blade.


    Stephan''s sword met Rudy''s. They sheared through each other, sending the remnants hurtling harmlessly into space.


    "Nicely done," Stephan said. "If insufficient."


    "Any time, Steph." Rudy plunged his shattered blade into the wrist of Stephan''s sword-arm and swung his rifle up underneath the Black Rook''s shield. He pumped two shells into the mechaneer-aristocrat''s shoulder. The first landed with a satisfying crack, but the second bounced off an invisible barrier.


    Ah, crap.


    Said barrier coalesced into a blast that sent Rudy crashing through the station''s hull. Metal wrenched around his armor, stale air exploded past it. At least it was a manufacturing station rather than a fortress. If it had been the latter, he would have buckled before it did.


    The Black Rook jumped down after him.


    Stephan discarded his shield and wrenched Rudy''s shorn blade from his wrist. Armed with both knife-like fragments, he leapt onto the chest of Rudy''s mecha. He held the blades aloft like twin sacrificial daggers.


    Rudy punched him in the throat.


    A mecha, of course, had no vital systems in such an unprotected spot. Didn''t feel like it when it used a direct neural interface, though, and the next mechaneer-aristocrat not to use one of those would be the first. Stephan reeled back, gagging over the comlink.


    Rudy''s fist crashed into the Black Rook''s face next. In zero-gee, the momentum of the two blows pushed Stephan off him. Rudy surged after him, triggering his thrusters to throw extra momentum behind another punch to Stephan''s throat. While the Black Rook reeled, the Crimson Phoenix pressed his advantage, rocketing blow after blow into his opponent''s head and chest.


    Stephan slammed against the jagged cavity he''d made in the station''s hull. He hurtled into space, seemingly out of control.


    Rudy didn''t pursue. He knew playing dead ¨C or at least playing at disadvantage ¨C when he saw it.


    Sure enough, the Black Rook didn''t reel for long. He snapped back toward Rudy and willed the crumbling knives ahead of him. One dug into Rudy''s neck armor and lodged there. A meter or so higher and he would have been out of a cockpit, and a life. The other knife clanked harmlessly against the station''s interior walls.


    Rudy rocketed backwards, thrusters flaring. For a wonder, none of his wings had snapped off when Stephan forced him through the station''s hull. He didn''t have to adjust for them as he shot backwards down the toroid hallway.


    Rudy reversed thrust abruptly and faked a jab at Stephan''s head, then ducked down a side corridor as his opponent hurtled past. By the time Stephan adjusted his trajectory to follow, Rudy had cut a second turn, tight enough to clip his shoulder armor on the walls.


    He reached one of the station''s promenades. They must have been spectacular when in use, easily five times his mecha''s height. He didn''t pause to take in the scenery, though. He flipped over a railing and turned his momentum into a spin that bent railing and balcony alike down after him.


    He still barely made it before the latter wrenched from the wall and hurtled into the promenade. Lances of raw force blazed holes through the station walls. One of them clipped Rudy''s mecha and left a deep gouge in its armor.


    Stephan was apparently not happy.


    Rudy didn''t know the station well enough to dare going deeper. This seemed like residential territory, or at least crew quarters. There were lots of places a big nob mecha like his could get stuck.


    The Black Rook made the question academic by blazing through the wreckage above him.


    Rudy met him with a spinning kick that stopped his momentum cold.


    "Miss me, Steph?" Rudy asked. He cut off the Black Rook''s answer with a barrage of blows to the mechaneer-aristocrat''s torso, sending him hurtling into the wreckage he''d made of his abandoned station.


    This time, Rudy didn''t give him time to recover. If Stephan was faking ¨C


    He was.


    Rudy''s lunge slowed to a crawl. His stomach lurched as a bubble of telekinetic force robbed him of his momentum, then slowly, inexorably pushed him backwards.


    Rudy hovered, helpless, at the heart of the promenade.


    The Black Rook picked himself up from the rubble his impact had further dislodged.


    "Well fought, Crimson Phoenix," he said. He gave a mocking little bow. "For a mundane, you are very talented and very clever."


    "Running was my idea," Rudy said. The feedback from his mecha''s body said he had a terrible weight pressing on his chest. He had to remind himself he could speak normally.


    Stephan''s mecha rose, head cocked. "Pardon?"


    "Don''t hold my running away against Chloe or Milissa," Rudy said. "They were scared and confused, and I convinced them to come with me."


    "How chivalrous of you. Dare I say, how noble." Stephan chuckled. "Both sentiments, as I''ve said, are very common amongst my people, and very ineffective. I harbor neither."


    "Not big on sentiment, huh?"


    "You could say that."


    I just did say it, dumbass, Rudy thought. He said, "Still, you''ve got to admit, it has its moments."


    "Certainly," Stephan said. He stepped closer, slowly closing his outstretched palm into a fist. The metal of Rudy''s mecha groaned against the pressure. "When my enemies indulge in it, I couldn''t be happier."


    "Never found it the least bit useful, huh?" Rudy grunted as his nerves told him the last of the air was expelled from his lungs. He overruled them. "I think you''re selling it short."


    "Forgive me if I take your opinion with a grain of salt, Crimson Phoenix," Stephan said, taking another step forward and closing his fist, "seeing as how I''m not the one who''s about to die."


    Crushing pain rolled across Rudy. His mecha''s armor squealed and buckled. He didn''t dare turn off his neural feedback. A nob model through and through, the mecha had nothing else.


    Through gritted teeth, Rudy spat, "Wanna bet?"


    And, with one clean motion, ripped the fragmented blade from his neck and through the Black Rook''s.


    For a moment, nothing happened. The pressure didn''t abate. The Black Rook didn''t falter. Rudy didn''t even pass out, though Principle alone knew how.


    The blade''s last fragments flaked off.


    Then the Black Rook''s head shifted. Independent of the body below.


    As the mecha''s psychic amplifiers separated from their master''s cockpit, the killing force shattering Rudy''s mecha abated to a dull itch ¨C deadly at the human scale, perhaps, but harmless to an armored battle machine.


    Rudy reached out a twisted mecha arm and grabbed Stephan''s drifting cockpit.


    His flight suit registered a sudden drop in cockpit temperature. Normally, Rudy would have welcomed his mecha cooling off rather than overheating. But, as Milissa had said, Stephan had always been good with snow.


    Rudy waited, the Black Rook''s head cradled in his hand like a skull.


    His cockpit got cold, yeah, but the only moisture in it was in his flight suit, heated and in contact with his skin. No snow formed.


    Milissa had also said Stephan could freeze a man to death even in a heated suit.


    Aside from the drop in temperature, nothing happened.


    Rudy grinned. "I know you can still hear me, Steph."


    "How?" the Black Rook hissed. "This isn''t possible. Chloe can''t know how to form such a subtle barrier! Milissa doesn''t know how, so where could she have learned?"


    Rudy grinned. "You never can tell," he said.

 Chapter 69: Service

    Chapter 69: Service


    Rudy''s mecha was a mess. It couldn''t even stand in the Magpie''s mecha bay. It slumped against the wall like a drunken man, or a corpse. Its weapons were gone, discarded or destroyed. Its wings were shattered, its chestplate only still on because its shards had fused together from the telekinetic force it had absorbed. Its arms seemed locked into an unnatural angle, shoulders almost hunched forward. Its hull leaked acrid coolant to the floor and spilled polymers like artificial viscera.


    Chloe doubted she''d ever seen a more joyous sight.


    The mecha was battered, broken, bowed ¨C


    And unbeaten.


    Rudy was alive.


    He''d kept his promise.


    Chloe ran down the catwalk and unfolded a ramp to his cockpit door. It swung open.


    Rudy climbed out.


    Chloe was on him before he''d even reached the ramp. They stumbled backwards into the cockpit. The reactive gel chair cushioned their fall.


    Rudy grinned up at her. ¡°Now that''s what I call a welcome.¡±


    She glanced down. She''d managed to land in his lap, or he''d managed to twist as they fell to ensure she did.


    She started to sputter and clamber from the cockpit. Stopped.


    ¡°There''s no denying it this time,¡± she said, and lightly kissed the top of his head. ¡°You earned your welcome, Crimson Phoenix.¡±


    She looked down at him. He''d slid lower in the chair than he was meant to sit, leaving her straddling his stomach instead of his lap. ¡°Isn''t this uncomfortable?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I''m plenty limber. We can shut the hatch and still have room ¨C¡±


    Chloe stood up.


    Rudy sighed, but she was pretty sure it was for appearances sake. Mostly.


    She helped him to his feet, and he didn''t offer any further complaints or suggestions. Which was for the best. They clambered from the cockpit together. Chloe started up the ramp, but Rudy leaned against his mecha''s head and looked down at it, wincing.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°I''ll live. A few bumps and bruises, not that my brain remembers it that way.¡±


    ¡°When Stephan got hurt fighting Admiral Avalon,¡± Chloe said, ¡°he seemed to feel it a long time afterwards.¡±


    ¡°Stephan lied. As usual. It hurts like hell when you get hit, but after the signal fades, there aren''t any lingering effects.¡±


    ¡°I''m glad,¡± she said. She wasn''t sure she believed him, though. His wince looked more than remembered to her.


    And I went and jumped on him, she thought. What an awful thing to do!


    Not that he''d seemed to mind.


    Thinking about his not minding reminded her that she hadn''t, either, and those were dangerous thoughts to have. A change of subject seemed safer. ¡°Is Stephan... did you have to kill him?¡±


    Rudy shook his head. ¡°He got the idea.¡±


    ¡°Milissa will be very happy to hear that.¡±


    ¡°Don''t mention that I left him on that station without a working mecha, then,¡± Rudy said.


    Chloe drew back, hand at her throat. ¡°You left him to suffocate? That''s worse than killing him yourself!¡±


    ¡°He won''t suffocate, Clo,¡± Rudy said. He sighed again; she didn''t doubt this one was genuine, because he leaned even more against his mecha''s head. ¡°He''ll just have to sweat it out a little before his boys come to pick him up.¡±


    ¡°Will they be in time?¡±


    ¡°What if they weren''t?¡±


    ¡°Then,¡± Chloe said without a moment''s hesitation, ¡°we''d have to get him and take him back to the surface.¡±


    ¡°You really are crazy, you know that?¡±


    ¡°Can they reach him in time, or not? Be honest, Rudy.¡±


    ¡°Damn, girl! I just got back from saving us all in what, if I may say so myself ¨C and I may ¨C was the finest piece of mechaneering I''ve ever done, and all you can think about is whether the guy who threatened to kill us is gonna have a long and pacific pattern to his days.¡±


    ¡°I can think about lots of other things,¡± Chloe said, ¡°but right now, I am thinking about this. And about our friend Milissa, who, last I checked, is the only reason we got away in the first place. The ''guy who threatened to kill us'' happens to be her big brother, and Principle help her, she does love him.¡±


    ¡°I guess I can sympathize with her,¡± Rudy said. ¡°And yes, Stephan''s men will reach him in time. His mecha''s head should have a day''s worth of atmosphere and the station''s only twenty minutes'' burn from the surface.¡±


    ¡°You strung me along like that for nothing?¡± Chloe turned, shaking her head. ¡°Principle!¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Rudy spun her until she faced him again, his arm around her waist. ¡°I strung you along like that because you''re cute when you''re angry.¡±


    ¡°This sets a terrible precedent, Rudy.¡±


    ¡°I''m good at that.¡± He winked.


    She felt more charitable toward his wink than she had in a long time.


    She kissed him again. ¡°I''m glad you''re okay.¡±


    ¡°I love you too, Chloe.¡±


    She closed her eyes and soaked up the words. Then they sunk home and she looked up, startled. ¡°That''s, um, I mean, it''s not what I said, it''s ¨C¡±


    ¡°I translated,¡± Rudy said.


    She nuzzled her nose against his. ¡°You''re a really good translator.¡±


    ¡°I took a class.¡±


    ¡°First time for everything.¡±


    ¡°It was a required course.¡±


    Chloe laughed.


    Rudy''s eyebrow quirked up. ¡°Shouldn''t you be telling me to be serious?¡±


    ¡°Am I really that much of a nag?¡±


    He made a show of considering the question. With a weight most men would have reserved for a speech of historical import, he pronounced, ¡°Hell yeah.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°It''s okay. You''re cute when you nag, too.¡±


    ¡°Rudy...¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Clo?¡±


    ¡°Be serious,¡± she said, seriously.


    His eyes twinkled. With the same gravity, he said, ¡°Give me one good reason why I should.¡±


    ¡°Because your legs are shaky and I really want to let you hug me, and it would be absurd for us to get killed by falling from here right after you beat Stephan?¡±


    ¡°You make a persuasive argument.¡± He let her slip from his arms. For a wonder, he also let her brace him as she led him up the ramp and onto the catwalk. She wondered if he was hurt worse than he''d let on, or if he was flying on some kind of painkiller that affected his balance.


    She lowered him to the railing and he gladly propped himself against it. She knelt beside him. ¡°Are you sure you''re okay, Rudy?¡±


    ¡°I could use a breather,¡± he admitted. ¡°My muscles are all sore from tensing up when the neural feedback told them they''d gotten torn apart.¡±


    ¡°Will they get better on their own?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°I hear a good massage does wonders, though.¡±


    ¡°I don''t know how to do that,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°Wanna figure it out?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Rudy blinked.


    Chloe blinked back. ¡°I mean...¡± She gulped. ¡°I mean, ''yes.'' I would love to figure it out.¡±


    ¡°If I didn''t know better, Chloe, I''d say you were putting the moves on me.¡±


    ¡°It would be wonderfully responsible of you to stop me, then,¡± she said. ¡°Please?¡±


    ¡°You''re kidding, right?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°Any help would be much appreciated. Considering our luck, I kind of figured Milissa would have run in here proclaiming a crisis by now.¡±


    ¡°Let me get this straight, Chloe,¡± Rudy said. ¡°You''re saying you actually are propositioning me, but you want me to say no?¡±


    Chloe clasped her hands in her lap and tried to concentrate on holding them tightly together. It was supposed to be some kind of mental exercise. It didn''t work. She shoved them to her sides instead, not that it helped. She said, ¡°I want you to distract me or something. That is, I should want you to. I don''t. You get what I''m saying?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Rudy said. ¡°I think you''re completely nuts.¡±


    ¡°Probably right,¡± she said.


    He sighed for the third time since his return, took her hands and clasped them together inside his. ¡°Don''t you want to know how I beat Stephan?¡±


    Chloe stared.


    She gripped his hands tightly. Almost as tightly as her voice seemed lodged in her throat. After a moment, she took a deep breath and whispered, ¡°You''re the best, Rudy.¡±


    ¡°Don''t credit me,¡± he said. ¡°Your crazy is contagious.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. ¡°And yes, I would love to know how you beat Stephan.¡±


    His face fell. ¡°You mean that wasn''t a test? I figured you''d be so grateful I''d get laid now.¡±


    ¡°Rudy!¡± She could have slapped him. At least, she told herself she could have slapped him.


    She told herself she''d honestly wanted him to stop her, too.


    Self-deception, she reflected, was an amazing thing.


    Rudy propped himself up on the railing and glanced back at his shattered mecha. ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°What?¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Looking back on it, I''m wondering how I beat him, too.¡±


    ¡°You seemed awfully confident when you went out there.¡±


    ¡°I had a hunch of my own,¡± he said.


    ¡°Why couldn''t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°Because Stephan could read your mind,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Milissa managed it, and she''s admitted she''s not exactly the mightiest psychic to ever soar between the stars.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you''re saying he couldn''t read yours?¡±


    Rudy nodded. ¡°Couldn''t read, write or do arithmetic on me. Or geometry, either, since I imagine he''d have loved to fold me up into something triangular.


    ¡°It all starts with Milissa and the bandersnatch,¡± he continued. ¡°See, she told me she summoned it.¡±


    Chloe drew back. ¡°Why would she do that?¡±


    ¡°She thought I had a damsel in distress complex.¡±


    ¡°Don''t you?¡±


    ¡°Not the point,¡± Rudy said. ¡°What is the point, is that she planned on having it come around, growl a bit, then either chase us slowly enough we could get away or seem to get spooked and run off after I took a swing at it. Instead, the minute I stepped between her and it, she lost control.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°At the time, I thought it was Stephan''s doing.¡±


    ¡°You thought he''d risk his own sister''s life?¡± Chloe shook her head. ¡°Even he wouldn''t go so far.¡±


    ¡°I figured that out when he didn''t kill us on the transport. We were sitting ducks, and he was trying to cut a deal. Since he''d already treated you like crap, it only made sense it was for Milissa''s sake. So on the one hand, I had a nob''s powers failing her when she thought she was in complete control, and on the other hand, I had the only other nob around showing he didn''t plan on sacrificing her.¡±


    ¡°I still don''t understand what happened,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°Remember when I fought Steph back at the estate?¡± Rudy asked.


    Chloe nodded.


    ¡°When I was on the ground, he tried to freeze me or crush my heart or something like that. It didn''t work, and he looked at you like he thought you''d stopped it.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could say that was true,¡± Chloe said, ¡°but I haven''t been any help to you at all.¡±


    ¡°Not true,¡± Rudy said, ¡°but not the point, either.¡±


    ¡°What is the point, Rudy?¡±


    ¡°The point is, this is my power:


    ¡°The power,¡± he finished, ¡°to take away yours.¡±

 Chapter 70: Phoenix Egg

    Chapter 70: Phoenix Egg


    Chloe spun the chair away from her console and looked up at Rudy. ¡°We''re underway, everything''s working fine, and we''ve got nothing to do but wait. So ¨C are you finished being enigmatic?¡±


    Rudy thought about winking at her, just to stretch her faked anger out a little longer. But he figured it was only a matter of time before she got genuinely mad at him. Couldn''t blame her, either.


    Besides, now that he understood, Rudy felt like he needed someone else to.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°We can talk now.¡±


    Milissa asked, ¡°What are we talking about?¡± She''d be looking to Chloe.


    Chloe was looking to Rudy.


    Rudy said, ¡°My power.¡±


    ¡°Your power,¡± Milissa squeaked. ¡°B-but, you''re ¨C and I don''t mean any offense, Crimson Phoenix, Principle knows, but ¨C you''re a mundane. An oligarch''s son. You''d have to be an errant.¡±


    ¡°And there are less than one in ten billion of those,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy nodded.


    ¡°I''m sorry,¡± Chloe said, ¡°but if you expect me to believe that kind of coincidence ¨C¡±


    ¡°I wasn''t born an errant.¡±


    Chloe met his eyes. He couldn''t say what she saw in his gaze. He, more than maybe anyone else in the galaxy, would never know her mind through direct contact. Whatever she got from his expression, her confused frown deepened to a concerned one.


    She shut up.


    Rudy took a deep breath, then did something he almost never did.


    Hesitated.


    He couldn''t explain why the words choked in his throat. It might have been conditioning. Maybe it was why he couldn''t play back a damned subliminal briefing without days of agonizing headache afterward.


    It might have been he just didn''t want to talk about it almost as much as he needed to.


    He thought about asking Milissa to leave. He''d wanted to wait so he could explain to both young women at the same time, but now he only wanted Chloe to know. He opened his mouth. Shook his head.


    He''d just kicked a nob''s ass in single combat. A nob who could fight alone against the Reformer and its admiral and survive.


    He was not a coward.


    ¡°I wasn''t born an errant,¡± Rudy repeated, ¡°I was made one.¡±


    Failure, Otto had said. Reject.


    Bro, Rudy thought, you either had no idea what you had or you were playing a game I don''t even want to try to understand.


    ¡°Toward the end of the Civil War,¡± he said, ¡°both the senate and the oligarchy had super-solider projects underway. They hoped to produce mechaneers who could go up against the nobs and win. I don''t know what the Feds were messing around with, but Kalder-Black Industries was in charge of the Oligarchical program.¡±


    Chloe said, ¡°They''re the ones the Feds crushed, right? That you showed me the recordings of?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I''m not sure if that''s connected or not.¡±


    She waved him on.


    ¡°They called it the Prometheus project. It was our way of stealing power from the nobs.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    This was the part Rudy didn''t want to talk about. He did anyway. ¡°You know how few nob prisoners there were during the Civil War, right? How they almost always fought to the death?¡±


    ¡°They had to protect their honor,¡± Milissa said.


    Holy crap, Rudy thought, the nobs believed their own propaganda ¨C and the Oligarchy''s.


    ¡°Except they didn''t always fight to the death,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Maybe... maybe they should have.¡±


    Chloe looked away. She got it already, no telepathy required. Of course, after what her parents had been through, she probably made those kinds of connections easier than most people.


    ¡°The ones the Oligarchy did capture were given Limiters and kept as prisoners of war,¡± Rudy said.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°But no one was ever released,¡± Milissa began. She gulped. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Rudy said. ¡°If any of the captured nobs were still alive ¨C and for their sake I hope they weren''t ¨C when the Kalder-Black headquarters on Port Caldera got scoured by the Feds, they died there. Understand, I was like five years old and in the wrong company when Prometheus was going on. I''m only giving you the version I got from Algreil Aerospace''s files.¡±


    ¡°What did they do to them, Rudy?¡± Chloe asked quietly.


    ¡°They... harvested them.¡±


    Rudy honestly didn''t know the details. He only knew about the project at all because he''d had recurring nightmares of Otto snarling about his ''failure'' and had checked the company files to figure out what, exactly, he''d failed at.


    Rudy had never been so glad of his ignorance. Not knowing made it a hell of a lot easier to focus on mechaneering and forget about whether he fought for the right side.


    But he did know more than he''d said. ¡°They took cells at least, and maybe more extensive neural tissue. Then they retrovirally engineered the samples from the captives and the DNA of the test subjects so the samples wouldn''t be rejected, the same way hybrids were originally created.¡±


    Chloe swallowed. She had enough of an imagination to fill in the blanks. The captives were non-persons. Officially, they didn''t exist. None of them had ever been released. And the oligarchs and nobs hated each other a whole hell of a lot after a hundred years of civil war.


    She knew as well as Rudy did that the sample-takers hadn''t concerned themselves with proper surgical care.


    ¡°I wasn''t one of the initial test subjects, of course,¡± Rudy continued. ¡°By the time Prometheus got to Algreil Aerospace, to me, Kalder-Black had already done proof-of-concept work.¡±


    ¡°On hybrids,¡± Chloe guessed.


    Correctly.


    They hadn''t even had to use POWs. Hybrids were non-persons during the transition from empire to republic regardless of their political affiliation. Most places, they still were.


    Chloe asked, ¡°Successful tests?¡±


    ¡°No. The process was harmless. Zero percent tissue rejection, one hundred percent recovery for the subject. It also seemed to be useless. They got the idea maybe hybrid subjects wouldn''t work, so, with the process deemed safe for human use, they needed volunteers.


    ¡°Once they moved on to human tests, though, they only wanted to perform the process on sons and daughters of the oligarchy,¡± he continued. ¡°Kalder-Black didn''t want to make artificial errants. They wanted to make artificial nobs.


    ¡°We were going to be the new order.¡± Rudy snorted. ¡°What we were, was a bunch of confused kids who didn''t understand why the hell we were going to the doctor''s when we weren''t sick ¨C and, as my dear big brother was so fond of reminding me, what we turned out as was failures.¡±


    ¡°You''re not a failure, Rudy,¡± Chloe said. ¡°If what you''re saying is true, you''ve got a power I''ve never even heard of. One that would have been invaluable to the Oligarchy, even if not in quite the way they expected.¡±


    ¡°Here''s the thing, Clo. I didn''t have it to begin with. Hell, the first time we went to the battlecruiser, I was feeling the psychic ambiance as bad, worse, than you or Slava. It was only after that my power started to kick in.¡±


    ¡°Well, obviously,¡± Milissa said.


    Rudy and Chloe both looked at her.


    She cocked her head. ¡°Just putting the physical equipment in somebody''s head wouldn''t be enough. You''d have to bring them in contact with psions, too. Of course, I''ve never heard of a power working like yours does, Rudolf, but who knows what all that messing around with the DNA did?¡±


    ¡°Aristocratic mothers teach their children telepathically,¡± Chloe whispered. ¡°Stephan told me so, but it''s not, or not just, teaching, is it?¡±


    ¡°Psions react to certain patterns of human thought, but you can''t have a reaction without interaction. We get exposed to plenty of psions just by being around our mothers, but Rudolph never even met the people who...¡± Milissa hesitated, either her own feelings or the ones her empathy was picking up dragging her down. She managed, ¡°... whose powers his people wanted to steal.¡±


    So it was all a mistake. Rudy''s so-called ¡°failure.¡± Kalder-Black¡¯s inability to project themselves. Otto''s bitterness at Rudy and the Feds and the whole damned world. Everything.


    Probably for the best, Rudy figured. If Otto had realized what he had, the nobs on the Periphery would''ve been chopped up for spare parts long ago.


    ¡°If that''s true, Milissa,¡± Chloe said, ¡°is that why my powers haven''t awakened?¡±


    ¡°Of course not, Highness. Your mother, Principle keep her, would''ve given you the same preparation as any other child. I''m not actually sure it''s possible to stop it from happening. And anyway, you''ve experienced my brother''s power, and mine.¡±


    ¡°But not for prolonged periods like a baby in the womb would,¡± Chloe said. ¡°I''ve only been around Stephan a few months, and most of those he was hiding his power. You don''t exactly throw yours around.¡±


    ¡°That still leaves your mom,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°Who I don''t remember despite being five years old when my parents ¨C my adoptive parents, I mean ¨C found me.¡±


    ¡°What are you saying, Clo?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know,¡± she admitted. ¡°Just... I''d like to try something.¡±


    Rudy wondered if she''d really had an idea or just didn''t want to dwell on what he''d told her. Or, equally possible, wouldn''t let herself dwell on it until she wasn''t around Milissa and her empathy.


    ¡°Milissa,¡± Chloe said, ¡°I want you to try contacting me telepathically. With as much power as you''ve got.¡±


    ¡°I''m not sure that''s such a good idea. You could get hurt, Highness. Or we all could.¡±


    ¡°May as well give it a shot,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Mad my skills may be, but we''re all toast if we go to Etemenos without a hell of a lot more power than even the Crimson Phoenix can muster. Besides, if things get out of hand, we''ve got the perfect safety valve right here.¡± He tapped his forehead.


    ¡°Please, Mili,¡± Chloe said. ¡°You said it wouldn''t be dangerous for you to teach me.¡±


    ¡°This isn''t exactly the same thing...¡± Milissa bit her lip. ¡°I guess you''re right, though. We have the Crimson Phoenix to save us.¡±


    Rudy gave her a thumbs-up.


    He wondered if Chloe had come up with her scheme not to get her mind off what he''d said, but to spare him the recollection.


    If so, mission accomplished.


    ¡°Let''s do this,¡± he said.


    Chloe closed her eyes.


    Milissa did the same.


    Both young women drew in deep breaths. Rudy couldn''t help but appreciate the view. Both locked their mouths into hard lines. But for Chloe''s spacer-pale skin, they could have been mirror images. Almost identical beads of sweat rolled down their faces.


    Rudy, of course, couldn''t feel a thing.


    Then Chloe tumbled from her chair.

 Chapter 71: A Conversation

    Chapter 71: A Conversation


    ¡°Get up, Mr. Hughes,¡± the Fed policeman said.


    Jack''s eyes opened. He rolled over and felt the wool in his mouth and groaned. He was not a morning person. He kept rolling and landed on the floor. It rippled and absorbed the impact, mostly.


    He focused on the Fed standing outside the cell.


    He groaned again.


    The Fed said, ¡°Somebody wants to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°Little early in the morning for that, don''t you think?¡± Jack muttered. But he stood, more alert than he let on.


    He couldn''t imagine anyone but Ellie wanting to talk to him.


    He couldn''t imagine not wanting to oblige her.


    He straightened up and stretched. He spared Otto a glance. The oligarch had one eye open, but his only acknowledgment was an almost imperceptible shrug.


    ¡°I''m ready,¡± Jack said.


    ¡°Come on, then.¡± There was only one Fed this time, which seemed odd to Jack. Although he sometimes he wondered why they used guards at all. The Feds could have moved half his cell through Etemenos to get him where they wanted him.


    Instead, he marched to the elevator-like construct and leaned against its wall. The Fed joined him. The guy walked stiffly, and his bare palms were sweaty.


    The hell?


    ¡°Hey, buddy,¡± Jack said. ¡°You look a little tense.¡±


    The Fed didn''t respond.


    ¡°You should relax more.¡± Jack forced a grin; it was reflected in the mirror-sheen surface of the moving chamber''s closed ''door.'' ¡°Take yours truly, for instance. Here I''m on death row, and I still know how to stay loose.¡±


    The Fed shifted further away from him.


    Jack didn''t blame the guy. He supposed he sounded more than a little crazy, on account of he was. Stir-crazy, to be precise. You couldn''t be a spacer and a claustrophobe. It just didn''t work. For Jack, it was the staying in one place too long that ate at him. That and his family being in danger, of course.


    Still, he wondered what had the Fed so wound up. Maybe the guy had a phobia of his own. About hybrids. If so, if he thought Jack was crazy for jumping out of bed to see Ellie, then the Fed was the crazy one and he deserved to be uncomfortable.


    The elevator-construct stopped.


    ¡°Get out,¡± the Fed said tightly.


    ¡°You could ask a little nicer,¡± Jack said. But he went.


    Why not? Antagonizing the Fed wouldn¡¯t help, and anyway, Jack had better company to look forward to.


    Then he realized he wasn''t in the same room he''d been allowed to see Ellie in, or that the room had changed. Most of the outlines were the same, but at the far end, a huge chair rose, grew from the floor. The silvery metal had blackened, as if it had been burned. Could the nanopaste of Etemenos''s core even catch fire?


    Why bring him to a burned room?


    Why the ostentatious chair, for that matter?


    The elevator shut behind Jack. He spun around. ¡°Hey, what the hell''s going on here?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been summoned, Mr. Hughes.¡± The voice was deep and strangely flat. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And familiar.


    Jack and the chair turned at the same time.


    He found himself face to face with Animus Hunter Errard Zelph.


    The Animus Hunter was taller than Jack, who wasn''t short, and his bulky, organic-looking black armor made him seem taller still. He would have been twice as ominous if he''d worn the weird horned helmet he had tucked under his arm, because his face, unlike the rest of him, still looked pinched and drab and bureaucratic.


    He said, ¡°Have a seat, Mr. Hughes. We have a great deal to talk about.¡±


    ¡°There''s only one...¡± Jack had been about to say ''chair,'' but a second rose from the floor beneath him. He''d seen Etemenos meld and shape itself before, and it hadn''t looked so... organic. Like Zelph''s armor.


    He sat, because the chair rising under him didn''t give him any choice.


    It carried him forward until he hovered about a meter from Zelph.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Jack tried to sound brave, or at least foolhardy. It wasn''t easy with the Animus Hunter.


    ¡°You already know the answer to that question,¡± Zelph said.


    ¡°Chloe.¡±


    The Animus Hunter didn''t so much as nod.


    Jack felt a lump in his throat. This guy had been a lot easier to talk to with a couple thousand kilometers of space between them. ¡°You figure I''ll help you?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Jack''s eyes narrowed. ¡°Then, buddy, you got another thing coming.¡±


    ¡°Have I, Mr. Hughes?¡± One side of Zelph''s stony mouth rose into something approaching a smile. ¡°What is that?¡±


    ¡°You can kiss my ass,¡± Jack said. He stood and started to march back to the elevator. The Feds had every right to interrogate him, but he had every right to tell them where to shove it, too.


    He sat back down.


    He didn''t understand why he''d done it at first. Then he saw Zelph''s smile grow.


    Oh. Crap.


    The telepathic attack had been so smooth and automatic, Jack hadn''t realized it was anything but his body''s own command until his conscious mind got involved.


    ¡°As you can see, Mr. Hughes, I most certainly could,¡± Zelph said, ¡°''kiss your ass,'' were I so inclined. I can do whatever I choose with you.¡±


    ¡°When the hell did the Senate throw in with a psychic goon like you? You do this to me and you can kiss a conviction goodbye, too.¡±


    ¡°But Mr. Hughes,¡± Zelph said, ¡°for that to happen, you would have to tell someone. That is not going to happen.¡±


    ¡°You need me ¨C¡±


    ¡°I am not threatening you. I am attempting to have a conversation with you.¡±


    ¡°So read my mind already,¡± Jack said. ¡°''Cause I don''t actually know where Chloe is, thank the Principle, and if I did, you''d sure as hell have to drag it out of me.¡±


    Zelph nodded. ¡°Of course. However, I am also not seeking information.¡±


    ¡°What do you want, then?¡±


    ¡°Simply to... talk.¡±


    ¡°Hard up for conversation, huh?¡± Jack thought, but very much did not add, and you with such a charming personality!


    ¡°It is not necessary for someone in my position to be a man of the people, Mr. Hughes,¡± Zelph said.


    He might have answered that way in response to what Jack had actually spoken aloud. The smirk on his face said otherwise.


    If you''re in my mind, you son of a bitch, Jack thought, go to hell.


    Zelph chuckled. ¡°If such an afterlife exists, Mr. Hughes, a place in it is undoubtedly already earmarked for me. In other words, yes, I am reading your thoughts and will continue to do so. I made the mistake of listening only to your spoken words once, to the misfortune of all. It is not a mistake I intend to make a second time.¡±


    Jack tried to hide the next thought that popped into his head, but he was too late.


    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Zelph said, ¡°this will not constitute grounds for a mistrial in your case, as you will not tell anyone about our meeting.¡±


    ¡°The hell I won''t,¡± Jack said. No point in trying to lie to the bastard if he could pluck the truth out of thin air and didn''t give a damn about the laws that were supposed to stop him. So much for Rhetta Ferrill''s legalistic rhetoric.


    Or did Zelph want to make it seem pointless to lie? Could Jack slip something past him if he concentrated hard enough? He tried to remember the anti-telepathy training he''d received during the Civil War.


    ¡°Don''t make this more tiresome than it has to be, Mr. Hughes,¡± Zelph said. ¡°We can have a pleasant and productive conversation if ¨C¡±


    The Animus Hunter''s expression froze. His eyebrow slowly raised and he glanced at the empty air at Jack''s left.


    He dipped his head like he was acknowledging something. Had somebody piped information to a hidden or cybernetic receiver inside him? Had another Animus Hunter contacted him telepathically?


    He turned back to Jack. ¡°You see, Mr. Hughes, our dialogue has already been fruitful and we have barely begun.¡±


    Jack stared at him.


    ¡°Imagine,¡± Zelph said, ¡°how informative the rest of the conversation is going to be.¡±

 Chapter 72: Inversion

    Chapter 72: Inversion


    Chloe wondered if they''d lost gravity. Rudy and Milissa seemed to stare at her upside-down.


    As her head cleared, she realized she''d fallen to the floor. Clearly, the Magpie''s artificial gravity still worked. The odd angles of her observers'' faces owed to their standing over her, and even that changed as Rudy knelt beside her.


    Chloe sat up, or tried to. She slumped backwards.


    Rudy¡¯s hand cupped her back. ¡°What happened to you, Clo?¡±


    Good question.


    One second, she''d felt the butterfly touch of Milissa''s mind, a familiar presence amplified to almost uncomfortable closeness.


    The next, she''d found herself in a tiny, or maybe just cramped, featureless silver room. With her dad and Animus Hunter Errard Zelph. Zelph seemed to know she was there, but no matter how she shouted and gestured to her dad, he didn''t respond. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn''t seem to move, and when she looked down at herself, she had no self to look at.


    What had happened?


    She said, ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    ¡°I''m so sorry, Highness,¡± Milissa said. She dropped to her knees beside Rudy and clasped Chloe''s hand. ¡°I warned you it might be dangerous, but ¨C¡±


    Chloe shook her head. Mistake. If she didn¡¯t know better, she¡¯d have said she could feel her brain sloshing around inside her skull. ¡°Don''t worry about it, Mili. And don''t call me ¡®Highness.¡¯¡±


    ¡°You aren''t hurt?¡± Rudy asked.


    ¡°Just a headache.¡± And a heartache. Principle! Seeing her dad again, watching him try to keep up a brave face even when he knew Zelph could read his mind, and above all not being able to help him or even call his name? She could think of plenty of worse nightmares, but most of them started the same way.


    Worst of all, she didn''t even know if the Animus Hunter had let her dad go unharmed. She''d found herself back on the Magpie before their interview concluded.


    She tried to make sense of the conversation, but it was at least as opaque to Chloe Hughes as it had seemed to be to Jack Hughes. Zelph had talked at her dad, or maybe at her if he''d somehow known she was there. Maybe the whole thing had been a construct of the Animus Hunter''s mind.


    Or of mine, Chloe thought. She hoped it could be true.


    ¡°You''d better explain,¡± Milissa said. ¡°We''re close enough to New Kyrillopolis to go back if you need medical attention.¡±


    ¡°Not going to happen,¡± Chloe said even before Rudy could. Actually, he kept his mouth shut and looked uncomfortable enough she knew he had something to say as soon as they were alone.


    ¡°But Highn ¨C Chloe ¨C!¡±


    ¡°I''m going forward, Mili,¡± she whispered, as much to herself as to the Kyrillos girl.


    ¡°Did you... see something?¡± Rudy asked.


    ¡°My dad,¡± Chloe admitted.


    She sketched the scene for them as quickly as she could. Since she didn''t understand what had happened or what Zelph was saying, she didn''t see any point in trying to make it comprehensible to her companions.


    Milissa startled her by clapping her hands together. ¡°Oh! I¡¯ve never heard of spontaneous remote viewing.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Chloe rubbed her eyes. ¡°This is what Stephan was trying to teach me?¡±


    The thought of actively seeking that experience out again made her stomach clench. Now more than ever, though, she couldn¡¯t afford to forsake knowledge and power.


    ¡°Well.¡± Milissa clasped her hands behind her back. ¡°I don¡¯t know if he expected it to work.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Rudy asked.


    ¡°It''s a very rare ability,¡± Milissa said. She sounded bubbly, like she¡¯d forgotten they¡¯d just fought to escape Stephan¡¯s clutches. ¡°My brother is the only aristocrat I''ve met who can do it, and it took him just ages to learn how. Although I guess it makes sense that the empress would have every power.¡±


    ¡°Right now all ''the empress'' has is a sore head,¡± Chloe said. ¡°Not to mention, no intention of becoming an empress.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Milissa said. She even managed to swallow the ¡°highness¡± at the end. Chloe didn''t have to be a telepath to read her darn close to worshipful smile, though.


    Pretty soon, Chloe knew she would have to sit down with Milissa and straighten her out. The Kyrillos girl might end up being a friend or nothing more than a fellow passenger, but under no circumstances could she stay a ¨C a follower. It probably wasn''t important when it came to saving Chloe''s parents, living to tell the tale or any semblance of happily-ever-aftering.


    But it was absolutely vital to staying sane in the next month or so of travel.


    So, Chloe hesitated to ask Milissa to leave her and Rudy alone. She could ask a favor, but Milissa would hear and obey only a command.


    Rudy caught Chloe''s gaze. His own danced toward the third member of their party, so quickly it might have been her imagination.


    Maybe it was no signal at all, but when Chloe used their physical contact to transmit a ¡°yes, please,¡± to his suit, he lifted her gently from the bridge floor. ¡°I better get you down to sickbay and make sure you didn''t crack your skull open.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Rudy,¡± she said, for plenty of reasons, and let herself be carried. If she closed her eyes she could remember all the times her dad had toted her around the Mother Goose, but she was hard-pressed to say which she''d liked better.


    She expected Rudy to put her down when the bridge doors slid shut behind them, but for the second time in a day he kept walking. Chloe squirmed to free herself.


    ¡°Don''t move around too much,¡± he said. ¡°With a head injury, you never know what might happen.¡±


    ¡°I didn''t really crack my head,¡± Chloe said. ¡°I just ¨C¡±


    ¡°Wanted to ditch Mili?¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Chloe said. ¡°Pretty rude, I guess. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°I mean, I won¡¯t say no to a little privacy,¡± Rudy said. ¡°But you actually did hit your head when you fell out of the chair and that headache worries me.¡±


    ¡°I feel better already,¡± she said. If nothing else, because of the sound of his voice when he got serious.


    Chloe heard the sickbay doors hiss open, then felt deck beneath her feet. She opened her eyes.


    Rudy motioned to the examination table.


    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ll grab a checkup in a minute, but I really do feel better. Besides, if I had a concussion, my flight suit would flag it.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Rudy folded his arms. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you didn¡¯t go along with this just to get some alone time.¡±


    The smile that had crept onto Chloe¡¯s face abandoned her. ¡°I wish.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± he said. He stretched his neck. ¡°What did you want the privacy to ask me about?¡±


    She met his gaze. ¡°Why did you shoot me a weird look when Milissa mentioned going back to New Kyrillopolis?¡±


    ¡°You caught that, huh?¡±


    So she hadn''t just imagined it. ¡°With Stephan beaten, you''re thinking I should go back, aren''t you?¡±


    Rudy sighed. ¡°I told Milissa and I''ll tell you. Stephan was right about Etemenos being a trap. The only reason I got you off New Kyrillopolis was because Mili said Steph would kill you and at the time I was operating under the assumption he''d been willing to kill her to get in your good graces, so I believed it.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Chloe said. ¡°You think we should go back.¡±


    ¡°The two of you? Yes.¡±


    ¡°While you ride off to save the day, oh knight in shining armor?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°It could happen.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Chloe said, ¡°it can''t.¡±


    She braced for an argument.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said. He jerked a thumb toward the examination table. ¡°Now hop on and run some tests or link our suits so I can see the diagnostic on your head.¡±


    She stepped forward and hugged him. It was another ¡°thanks¡± without having to repeat it aloud. It was what she wanted to do.


    It also linked their flight suits'' diagnostics.


    Rudy kissed the top of her head. ¡°Guess you''ve got a thick enough skull, after all,¡± he whispered into her hair.

 Chapter 73: Entombed

    Chapter 73: Entombed


    The Errant Magpie emerged from its compression tunnel into the darkness of deep space. Stars twinkled in the distance and a sun, at least four weeks¡¯ journey away in normal space, cast a faint but still discernible glow on the transport''s prow.


    And on the dark bulk of the pyramidal ship looming above them.


    Rudy''s eyes narrowed as he saw it again. He leaned over and whispered, ¡°You sure you''re ready for this, Chloe?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°But I''m sure we don''t have any other choice.¡±


    Apart from forgetting this crazy plan, of course. Rudy couldn''t exactly blame Chloe for her determination, but sometimes he sure wished she didn''t have it.


    Like when her determination took them back to the battlecruiser hulk.


    He tried to tell himself the dead ship couldn''t hurt him. Even if there were some kind of psychic ghosts aboard, he was the safest person in the world to deal with them.


    As evidenced by the telekinetic beating his mecha took when he fought Stephan.


    As evidenced by the memories of his last visit.


    Besides, even if he wasn''t in danger, Chloe might be. Even Milissa, who neither he nor Chloe planned on allowing within a kilometer of that huge dark shape, might be. Hell, with her empathy...


    Rudy remembered what he''d felt when he went aboard the battlecruiser, and he was as mundane as they came. Literally. Maybe it was just disturbing. Maybe it caused some physical change in the atmosphere or temperature. Maybe his powers hadn''t activated yet.


    Yeah. And maybe it was just strong enough to get through whatever his shield or anti-psion field or whatever it was.


    ¡°Are you sure you don''t want me to come along?¡± Milissa called. ¡°It''s not like I can do much with the Magpie if someone chases us down.¡±


    ¡°You can warn us, Milissa,¡± Chloe said. ¡°That could be the most important thing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but... it''s creepy here. I''d rather not stay on the ship alone.¡±


    You don''t know the half of it, Rudy thought.


    Chloe effortlessly slid the ship''s velocity and course to match the battlecruiser''s, locked them in, and rose. Rudy looked over his shoulder as she sprinted to Milissa''s console and leaned over to pat her hand. ¡°The Magpie''s safe,¡± she said. ¡°But if you''re not here to watch our backs, Rudy and I won''t be.¡±


    ¡°I know, Highn... Chloe.¡± Chloe''s quest to get the Kyrillos girl to use her name rather than her title seemed to be paying off.


    Slowly.


    Chloe smiled down at Milissa. ¡°Thanks, Mili. You''re a pal.¡±


    Milissa beamed.


    Rudy turned back to the main screen to hide his grin. Chloe was probably the younger of the two, but nobody would ever think she filled the little sister role. She could be pretty smooth with it, too. Rudy doubted he could have persuaded Milissa to stay as easily.


    Of course, Chloe had the advantage that Milissa, whether she admitted it or not, considered Chloe''s word law. Hell, the only reason she wouldn¡¯t admit it was because Chloe had passed an edict barring her from doing so.


    Rudy''s grin faded when he looked at the battlecruiser.


    It''s just a machine, he told himself. It''s a hell of a lot less dangerous than Stephan Kyrillos, and you kicked his ass.


    Just a machine the size of a small city, packed with bizarrely butchered men who died from causes unknown, possibly in connection with an attack from forces unknown, whose motives were, of course, unknown.


    Nothing to be afraid of.


    Chloe had to control her fear better. Rudy could tell by how tightly wound she seemed whenever they were alone. She didn''t want Milissa to know how afraid she felt, didn''t want to be that afraid when Milissa could pick up on it.


    Rudy didn''t have to worry about the Kyrillos girl''s empathy picking up his fear, though. As long as she and Chloe weren''t looking his way, he could indulge it to his heart''s content.


    Not exactly his idea of a lucky break.


    ¡°Let''s get going, Clo,¡± Rudy called. ¡°No reason to waste time here.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± She returned to her chair and settled in, unlocking the controls without so much as a flick of her wrist. He had to admire the way her slender fingertips played lightly across the panel. She''d learned the controls in the days it took them to leave New Kyrillopolis''s sun behind. Now she manipulated them like an ace.


    The Errant Magpie soared in a tight spiral around the battlecruiser hulk, putting a little over a kilometer between it and them. Rudy manned the transport''s sensor suite, which, like most of its systems, was way too high-end to be legal on a civilian vessel.


    If Rudy and Chloe hadn''t wanted to shield Milissa from what the battlecruiser contained, they would have steered the ship directly into the mecha bays. Maybe it was patronizing, but they had both seen how she reacted to things like the bandersnatch attack and Stephan''s anger. They''d agreed it was neither fair nor safe to expose her to the kind of crawling, gut-chewing horror they''d faced the last time they came to this ship. Horror, Rudy reminded himself, that had gotten through mental shields the Black Rook hadn''t come close to scratching.


    Shields that hadn''t been active yet.


    He hoped.


    Instead of docking, they scanned the mecha bays on every wavelength Rudy could find on the sensor console. It took longer and it wasn''t as precise. If they didn''t find Chloe''s mother''s mecha, her ''erinyes,'' then they''d have to search the ship with the mecha in the Magpie''s bay.


    Rudy did his best to hide the chill he felt at their backup plan.


    One of the panels before him displayed the interior of a mecha bay. Between the various systems the Magpie had, from visual light to X-rays to graviton sensors, he got a pretty clear picture of what lay inside.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Imperial Guard mecha, the gussied-up versions of the one he''d flown against Stephan. Impressive, but irrelevant. Nothing bigger, at least that he could see. Nothing that set off any of the sensors as weird.


    Chloe glanced at him.


    He shook his head.


    She nodded and kept the Magpie circling.


    Thankfully, the battlecruiser didn''t have as many mecha bays as a modern ship its size. It was obviously meant for more than just transporting military machines around to kill other vessels of its weight class. The oligarchs, the nobs and even the Feds would have hesitated to dedicate a destroyer to toting around a dignitary like the empress, much less a ship this big. But then, the emperors had built an entire planet-sized city in the middle of deep space. Frugality didn''t seem to have been their strong suit.


    Neither, Rudy thought, did survival. Maybe they hadn''t sent a big enough ship.


    Maybe it wouldn''t have mattered.


    None of the mecha had launched, at least as far as he could tell. That creeped him out more than anything. Well, maybe not more than the corpses seemingly melded with each other and with the walls of the battlecruiser.


    Anyway, it creeped him out plenty.


    What could have hit this immense vessel so hard and fast it never got its mecha into the fight?


    He remembered how the men aboard had died. Whatever had done that could do... pretty much whatever the hell it wanted, Rudy figured, and more power to it as long as it did it somewhere far away.


    The next galaxy sounded good to him.


    He was so busy tying himself into knots over the battlecruiser, he almost didn''t notice when the Errant Magpie''s sensors spat out an anomalous reading.


    ¡°I think we''ve got something,¡± he called.


    The ship''s thrusters reversed and pushed it to a halt. ¡°Let me see,¡± Chloe said.


    ¡°We could put it up on the main screen,¡± Milissa suggested.


    ¡°No!¡± Chloe and Rudy shouted it at the same time. They exchanged embarrassed glances.


    ¡°It was just a suggestion,¡± Milissa said quietly, but she didn''t push it.


    Chloe joined Rudy at his station, peering down at the image of one of the battlecruiser''s mecha bays. The imperial line mecha were present here as well, row upon row of them.


    So was something else.


    It lay on its back, unlike the rest of the mecha which stood in their bays, and while the angle made it hard for the Magpie''s instruments to get a fix on it, it seemed bigger than the machines surrounding it.


    Chloe sucked in a breath.


    Rudy glanced up at her. ¡°This it?¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°Then let''s go get it,¡± Rudy said. He tried to sound more confident than he felt. Chloe might not be able to read his mind, but she knew him well enough to know he took a lot to scare.


    The last time he''d come to the battlecruiser, he''d gotten scared. He''d gotten freaking terrified, and he''d panicked. That just did not happen. Period. Not in tournaments, not in street fights, not even in his first real life-or-death battle against another mechaneer.


    Chloe had brought him back to himself, and he''d never been able to express how much he owed her for that.


    Regardless, she nodded again and strode to the bridge doors. Rudy rose and followed. He caught up with her at the doors, where she paused to say, ¡°Hold the fort, Mili. We''ll be right back.¡±


    ¡°Good luck,¡± Milissa said. She waved to them and made no move to look back to the battlecruiser. Smarter than she let on, that one.


    Rudy and Chloe, on the other hand, were going back into the ship.


    Not so smart.


    Rudy kept his thoughts to himself as he and Chloe descended to the mecha bay.


    She had tinkered with the machine he¡¯d taken into battle against Stephan, but it had been more to pass the time than from any hope of bringing it back to working order, much less combat spec. They¡¯d need a full repair bay to attempt that.


    Without that mecha, Rudy and Chloe had to lean on a pair of the Civil War relics the Kyrillos men-at-arms had piloted. He would have rather shared a cockpit, but they might need two mecha if something went wrong and he didn''t want to have to rely on Milissa to bail them out.


    The gravity was off in the bay, so Rudy kicked his way up to one of the mecha and climbed into its open cockpit. Chloe already had hers shut by the time he reached the rim. Not for the first time, he had to admire the way she swam through zero gee like she''d been born to it.


    ¡°We''re good to go, Milissa,¡± Rudy said, as much to test the communications suite and to give the Kyrillos girl a way to feel useful as because he or Chloe needed someone to open the mecha bay doors. They could trigger them remotely from their mecha.


    The air vacuumed from the chamber, then the doors slid apart and open space sucked out whatever wisps remained.


    Open space, except for the battlecruiser below.


    Rudy switched to a private channel between the mecha. ¡°Okay, Clo, what''s the plan?¡±


    ¡°You should stay here.¡± Her face appeared on his left. She didn''t seem to be looking at the camera mounted over the front of her cockpit, because her eyes didn''t meet his.


    ¡°Not gonna happen,¡± Rudy said.


    ¡°I know you won''t,¡± she said, ¡°but you should.¡±


    ¡°We''ve been through this before.¡± Whether ''this'' was Chloe saying she should go to the battlecruiser alone or the battlecruiser itself, Rudy''s statement applied.


    Chloe nodded absently.


    ¡°So,¡± Rudy said again, ¡°what''s the plan?¡±


    ¡°I take back my mother''s mecha,¡± Chloe said. Her current machine stepped from its moorings and burned toward the open doors of the mecha bay.


    Rudy''s followed. After the fluid grace of the aristocratic mecha, adjusting to the man-at-arms model made him feel like he was piloting through molasses. Fortunately, Chloe''s pace was deliberate. He caught up to her halfway between the transport and the looming cavern that was the battlecruiser''s mecha bay.


    ¡°That''s a good goal,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Or at least a not-crazy one. Do you know how?¡±


    ¡°My parents dragged it out of here without incident.¡±


    ¡°And Stephan said it would ''smote the flaming sword what drew it'' or some shit like that,¡± Rudy said. ¡°Some shit, I might add, that Marcel apparently believed, because it''s still here.¡±


    ¡°It''s waiting for me,¡± Chloe said.


    Rudy looked at her image more closely. At first, he''d thought she was looking intently at one of her instruments, but now he saw that her gaze seemed unfocused, distant.


    Rudy frowned. ¡°I really hope you mean that metaphorically, Clo.¡±


    She didn''t answer. She glided down to the bay, careless grace belying the mecha she piloted.


    Rudy thought about trying to restrain her. This whole thing felt rotten to him. He didn''t feel unnaturally terrified like he had last time; naturally was a different story. ¡°Chloe, stop. Talk to me. What''s waiting for you?¡±


    ¡°The erinyes,¡± Chloe said. ¡°Megaera.¡±


    ¡°It''s got a name?¡±


    No answer.


    ¡°You know its name?¡± Oh, crap. Rudy''s thrusters flared and he hit the deck hard enough to drop his mecha into a crouch. He straightened up and took off after Chloe. ¡°Chloe, don''t touch it!¡±


    The sight of the erinyes almost brought him up short. It was, by far, the most magnificent mecha he''d ever seen: eighteen meters tall ¨C or long, since it lay on its back ¨C and made entirely of a silvery, almost liquid-looking substance he''d never seen before, it sprouted a pair of elegant wings and a delicate, extremely organic looking figure that could have been Chloe''s writ colossal. It glowed, and he didn''t see any source for the lighting.


    Chloe''s man-at-arms mecha knelt before it like a primitive idol before the goddess it was meant to represent.


    Rudy didn''t much like the idea of Chloe kneeling to that thing. He rushed forward, grabbed Chloe''s machine by the shoulders and turned it to him, trying to shake some sense into her.


    His mouth went dry.


    Chloe''s cockpit was open.


    He shot a glance at his communications window ¨C blank ¨C, then looked down at the erinyes.


    A tiny figure in a white flight suit knelt on its silvery chest, her head bowed.


    ¡°Chloe!¡± Rudy reached for her. He could pluck her gently from the erinyes and they could figure out what the hell was going on.


    At least he could have, if she hadn''t chosen that moment to fall forward and sink through the silvery metal.

 Chapter 74: Mind Games

    Chapter 74: Mind Games


    ¡°The Animus Hunter again, eh?¡± Otto''s eyes reflected the dimmed, sourceless white glow of Etemenos as neon blue. ¡°You''ve almost got me wishing your catgirl would pay you another conjugal visit. Feeling neglected?¡±


    Jack tried to muster a glare, but he was just too damned tired. He didn''t even bother correcting Otto about the nature of Ellie''s first visit. ¡°Ellie''s got better things to do.¡±


    ¡°Like?¡±


    Saving Chloe, Jack thought.


    Not that he was at all sure what, exactly, they were supposed to save her from. Rhetta Ferrill, who Ellie had seemed to know personally? Errard Zelph, who seemed to want to chat with Jack for no reason he could figure out?


    Zelph, who for all his implied menace and his bureaucrat''s face, would have made a better politician than the president? Jack had spoken with the man four times in that theatrically burned Etemenos chamber, who the hell knew how many words, and he still didn''t think Zelph had said a single thing that meant anything.


    Maybe the son of a bitch really was just hard up for conversation.


    Jack sighed and flopped onto his bunk.


    ¡°It''s rude not to answer a question,¡± Otto said.


    Jack doubted the gesture he responded with made him seem any more polite.


    Otto chuckled. ¡°So what does our boy Errard want with you, anyway?¡±


    Jack knew he wouldn''t get any sleep until he found some way to shut the oligarch up. ¡°The hell should I know?¡±


    He could hear Otto''s sneer. ¡°Is puzzling out the Senate''s lapdog beyond even your formidable abilities as an intelligence officer, Colonel Hughes?¡±


    Damn right it was.


    Jack''s eyes snapped wide open and he focused on Otto.


    The oligarch raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Maybe you can understand what the hell he jabbers about,¡± Jack said. ¡°If I knew, I could ¨C well, I dunno what, but it''s better than being a sounding board.¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± Otto said.


    Then he laid back and closed his eyes.


    Jack could have strangled him. Could have tried to, anyway. Bad enough Otto spent most of the time one step out of a coma, but for him to rouse himself enough to pretend to give a shit, just to shoot down Jack''s hopes?


    Dirty pool, even for Otto.


    ¡°Wake up,¡± Jack said.


    Otto shrugged but didn''t open his eyes. At least he was listening.


    ¡°You used to love playing this kind of game. You got something better to do?¡±


    ¡°Game?¡± Otto cracked an eye and a wry grin that turned to a snarl as he spoke. His voice, though, never wavered. ¡°I played the ''game'' so well, we''re going to die in here. I played and lost, and it wasn''t a game. It''s a little late for me to climb inside Errard Zelph''s skull.¡±


    Jack slumped back on the bunk.


    He''d just started to drift off when Otto said, ¡°So what does Zelph want with you, anyway?¡±


    ¡°I thought ¨C¡±


    ¡°Isn''t like we''ve got anything better to do.¡± Otto would be grinning.


    Since Jack had shut up, Otto had ¡°won¡± their argument. Now he didn''t have to admit defeat to indulge his curiosity. Jack wanted to believe he''d played the oligarch, but if he had, Otto would''ve noticed ¨C and stayed silent. The only way to win against Otto was not to play. Worst of all, Jack couldn''t rule out the possibility the whole conversation had been the oligarch''s way of reminding him.


    With a sigh, Jack said, ¡°I told you, I don''t have a clue what Zelph wants. He asks questions he either knows the answers to or knows I don''t. Then he repeats them. It''s like talking to a Principle-damned broken AI.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Give me an example.¡±


    ¡°I dunno, it''s ¨C¡±


    ¡°Then why did you waste my time in the first place?¡±


    Jack had to hide a smile at the disgust in Otto''s voice. The oligarch was at least half himself again after their fistfight. Whatever game he''d been playing, he''d either won or forfeited. Or maybe he was just coping.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Jack said. ¡°He asked me if I knew where Chloe was.¡±


    ¡°You told him to kiss your ass, I expect.¡±


    Jack nodded.


    ¡°Did he?¡±


    ¡°Otto!¡±


    The oligarch chuckled. ¡°Just checking. It would fit the evidence.¡±


    ¡°Then I wouldn''t have to take this grief asking you,¡± Jack muttered.


    Otto went on as if he''d never thrown the jibe. ¡°Did he keep asking after you told him off?¡±


    ¡°He read my mind, Otto,¡± Jack said. He didn''t like to think about the experience, even if it hadn''t been as bad as his Civil War training led him to expect. For all he knew, Zelph wasn''t still pulling his strings.


    Abruptly, he shuddered. ¡°Do you think he could still be in there? Listening? Maybe making me do shit I don''t even realize?¡±


    Otto, helpful Otto, said, ¡°Absolutely.¡±


    ¡°Principle!¡± Jack rubbed his forehead. He imagined he could feel the Animus Hunter''s psychic presence. Could Zelph turn him into a weapon against Chloe?


    ¡°I doubt he''d bother, old buddy,¡± Otto said, ¡°unless it was to spy on me. And in that case, why not just use the cameras every centimeter of this place can and probably has become?¡±


    ¡°Why do any of this?¡± Jack asked. ¡°Why talk to me at all when he could just scan my head from half a world away?¡±


    ¡°First off,¡± Otto said, ¡°I doubt he could scan you from out of line of sight. It''s possible, but from what we saw during the war it''s damned hard and only works on people you have a strong connection to. Maybe for targeting.¡±


    ¡°Maybe why he wants to talk?¡±


    ¡°It would work. But that just brings us back to the central question, why bother?¡± Otto stroked his chin. ¡°What else did Zelph say?¡±


    Jack wondered why Otto seemed to care all of a sudden. Sometimes, most times, talking to the oligarch frustrated him as much as talking to the Animus Hunter. ¡°He wanted to know all about how I fell in with you again. About the Civil War. About my ship, for Principle''s sake. I think the bastard''s just crazy.¡±


    ¡°Could be,¡± Otto said, ¡°but he''s a nut with a hell of a lot of power. As such, it''s worth exploring how, exactly, his mind works. Can you reconstruct the order of the conversations?¡±


    ¡°Why does that matter?¡±


    ¡°It might tell us what he really wanted to know,¡± Otto lied. Jack knew the oligarch was lying. He could guess it because Otto lied a lot. He could sense it because he knew Otto better than almost anyone alive, back to the days when most of his lies were a military genius''s good, clean ¨C bloodstained ¨C bluffs.


    But he didn''t know why, and knew if he tried to understand he''d only hurt his head.


    Jack recalled the order as best he could.


    He and Zelph had talked about Chloe ¨C it all came back to Chloe, of course, no matter how often Jack insisted he didn''t know anything useful to the Animus Hunter. But the devil Otto would be looking for would be in the details.


    Jack tried for those.


    About the legality of mind control, and Zelph not giving a damn. About Jack not telling, which he was putting the lie to even now. Why would the Animus Hunter think he wouldn''t?


    Otto said, ¡°Or why would he lie about what he ''knew'' you''d do?¡±


    And Jack was even more lost.


    He bulled forward anyway. Zelph said he didn''t have the personality for politics, or didn''t have to, or something. He had taunted Jack about Ellie''s connection to Avalon, how useless it was, and Jack had tried to punch him and failed. Otto, familiar with that sequence of events, rolled his eyes.


    Except... ¡°He got distracted before that,¡± Jack said. ¡°The first time we talked, I mean. Like he saw something I didn''t. Somebody contacted him, I guess? Maybe I said something important then.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Otto rolled onto his back and drummed his fingers on the bunk beside him. ¡°I wonder.¡±


    I could do that on my own, Jack thought.


    Otto waved him on. ¡°Don''t wait up on my account.¡±


    Zelph mentioned the Mother Goose. ¡°My ship,¡± Jack reminded Otto when the oligarch finally looked blank. ¡°Said it was impounded, so even if I were thinking of trying to get away it wouldn''t do any good.¡±


    ¡°Were you?¡±


    ¡°Always.¡±


    ¡°Heh.¡±


    ¡°And he said the president wasn''t gonna step in at the last minute, either,¡± Jack continued. ¡°He told me all about why I couldn''t do a damn thing, like he thought I couldn''t figure it out for myself. That make any sense?¡±


    ¡°That''s it!¡± Otto sat up and smirked across the cell at him. When Jack didn''t rise to the bait, he added, ¡°You play dumb so well, Jack, you even fool telepaths.¡±


    ¡°Real funny.¡±


    ¡°Isn''t it, though?¡± Otto lay back down. ¡°Anything else? Did he ask you to do anything? Cooperate? Get your daughter to?¡±


    ¡°That''s what I''m trying to tell you, Otto,¡± Jack said. ¡°Bastard never asked me to do a damned thing!¡±


    ¡°Obviously he was playing you,¡± Otto said.


    No shit, Jack thought. ¡°To do what, though? I''m not much of a manipulator, but even I know better than to play pawns who can''t even move.¡±


    Otto didn''t respond. The only reason Jack knew he was awake was the occasional roll of his fingers on the bunk''s solidified silvery rim. Overhead, the lights dimmed ¨C the night cycle starting ¨C and he lost sight of Otto¡¯s face, then Otto''s outstretched arm, then, finally, even the drumming fingers.


    It wasn''t until he stopped hearing them that Jack gave up on his answer.

 Chapter 75: Stop

    Chapter 75: Stop


    Silver slid away from Chloe''s eyes.


    Overhead, broad beige panels emitted gentle light over green-carpeted hallways and broad, rounded halls set with planters.


    The light played across a dark-haired angel''s lips as they creased in a frown. Her voice was almost inaudibly soft against the battlecruiser''s background hum, but high and clear like a distant bell. She whispered, ¡°What''s going on?¡±


    The man beside her could not have looked more ordinary in comparison: almost painfully so in a dull-liveried flight suit with only the green-and-white Imperial crest on one shoulder to lend color to its brown and gray. His voice, too, was drab, but tight with urgency that seemed incongruous, almost impossible, in the angel''s presence. ¡°There''s no time, Karissa,¡± he said, and reached for her arm.


    Chloe noticed for the first time that the ¡°angel¡± wasn''t, not unless angels could get very pregnant.


    She realized, as she floated, disembodied, in the battlecruiser''s hallway, that she looked upon her Imperial mother, the last Empress, Karissa Astroykos.


    Chloe tried to orient herself, but it was impossible. It took all of her willpower to hold on to the memory of how she''d gotten here. How and when. She felt like she could slip into this seeming now and lose her way, or her self.


    She was either seeing something within the erinyes, or it had triggered something in her powers to allow her to see this. Save for the displacement in time she knew had to be occurring, it was the same as when she''d watched her father and the Animus Hunter on Etemenos. It was the hunches she''d always had, made clear at last.


    Or at least clearer. Either the strangeness of the scene or Chloe''s vantage point lent it a dreamlike quality.


    Karissa, one hand automatically, unconsciously resting over the curve of her belly, reached the other out to the ¨C what? Imperial guardsman?


    ¡°Errard,¡± she said, ¡°make the time.¡±


    He frowned back at her and Chloe saw, thirty years removed, the Animus Hunter he would become.


    She had no idea what that meant, though, or even if she was seeing the truth. Errard wasn''t, after all, an uncommon name.


    ¡°We''ve stopped,¡± he said, and the more Chloe heard his voice the more she felt certain it was the same man. ¡°I don''t know why and I cannot raise the captain.¡±


    ¡°I''m sure I can,¡± Karissa said.


    ¡°Don''t!¡±


    Unless her telepathy was so effortless as to be imperceptible to her future-daughter''s remote viewing, Karissa didn''t.


    Errard took her outstretched hand and gently lowered it. ¡°There may be things you should not have to see.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Karissa lowered her eyes.


    Couldn''t he see, Chloe wondered. Karissa already knew Errard was going to betray her. Chloe knew it, and she''d just arrived. He was too agitated. She, too resigned.


    Maybe he knew and just didn''t want to admit it to himself.


    ¡°We have to get to the mecha bay,¡± he said. ¡°Come. Quickly!¡±


    She followed in silence, only shaking her head after he''d turned.


    Chloe wanted to reach through the ages and grab her by the shoulders and scream, don''t! Whatever you''re doing now, turn around ¨C or keep going if you did turn around, because Principle knows ¨C and I know ¨C how this ends.


    Awfully.


    With the beautiful halls of the Imperial battlecruiser stained red. With Karissa dead. With Errard fighting and killing her husband the Emperor.


    Badly, except for Chloe being given into the arms of Jack and Ellie Hughes.


    But that made no sense, Chloe thought. She''d been five or six when her parents found her. The scene playing out before her with a young Imperial Guardsman and a pregnant Empress had to have taken place half a decade before the battlecruiser reached its awful end. Was it even the same ship? Were they even the people she thought they were?


    The erinyes was old ¨C ancient. She didn''t know where it came from, what it was, what it wanted. She didn''t dare guess why it had sent her consciousness here or given her a glimpse of what had been. She had only intuition to tell her anything she saw had ever been real.


    Intuition sufficed.


    Karissa allowed Errard to pull her forward as urgently as her condition allowed. The carpet beneath them, artfully disguised nanopaste, sped them on their way. Chloe drifted after them, unable to stop herself even if she''d wanted to.


    If I had a lick of sense, she thought, I would want to. I know what they''re going to see, or have done to them, or do.


    But not who''d done what.


    Not why.


    Not, though she hoped never to need this final bit of knowledge, how.


    Chloe had wished for knowledge and power to save her parents, to repay some small measure of her debt to Rudy.


    The erinyes ¨C Megaera ¨C offered to grant her wish.


    Glad her formlessness spared her from having to decide, Chloe followed the pair down the halls of the battlecruiser.


    She knew, without knowing how she knew, they were close, now, to the mecha bay where more than a decade in the future Jack and Ellie Hughes would find Megaera with Karissa and Chloe inside. Where, more than a decade after that, Chloe and Rudy had found the erinyes again.


    Where I really am, Chloe reminded herself. It would be so easy to forget.


    The hallways in this past looked so peaceful. Apparently, the battlecruiser was the Empress''s personal vessel. Shadowy duplicates of Karissa flickered through the halls overseeing the draping and care of the plants that gave the ship free, limitless oxygen and warm beauty. Watering them herself, when her attendants failed to stop her, accepting their gentle admonishments with a gentler smile. The halls were lovely under her care, extensions of a self that must have been lovely within as without. The half-seen images made Chloe wish desperately to see more.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Through Megaera, she realized, she might be able to.


    Errard stopped abruptly. Karissa flitted to a stop behind him, her grace belying her advanced pregnancy.


    ¡°Gunfire,¡± she said.


    Chloe couldn''t hear it, but Errard nodded. She wondered if her ears just weren''t sharp enough or if her remote viewing limited the radius of her hearing somehow. Assuming what she experienced now was even the same thing as what she¡¯d stumbled into achieving a few days before.


    Karissa turned her back to the sound. Her silver-flight-suited shoulders slumped. ¡°It¡¯s time for you to explain, Errard.¡±


    ¡°There must be some sort of attack,¡± he said. ¡°A mutiny, even.¡±


    ¡°Even that?¡± Karissa gazed down the hallway, staring straight at where Chloe''s perception came from, and for a minute Chloe''s heart leaped with the hope she could actually make a difference.


    But the Empress stared through her like she wasn''t even there.


    Which, of course, she wasn''t.


    ¡°Karissa...¡± Errard tensed, trying to look at Karissa without taking his eyes off the source of the fire.


    ¡°Why, Errard?¡±


    ¡°I don''t ¨C¡±


    ¡°Do not lie to me. It is beneath us both. Of course it is mutiny. You are a mutineer yourself.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be ridiculous,¡± Errard said. ¡°You know I''d never do anything to hurt you or your daughter.¡±


    ¡°Or Theo?¡± The Emperor Theophilos XIX, no doubt. Even though Chloe knew, intellectually, this woman was the Empress and Chloe herself supposedly their daughter, it sounded weird to hear the Emperor of human space called by a diminutive.


    Errard didn''t answer for a moment. His hand hovered poised over her shoulder, shaking, answering for him. At last he said, ¡°I''d rather it not come to that.¡±


    ¡°I did tell you, dear friend, it would come to that, and this, and all such tragedies.¡±


    ¡°Prophecies,¡± Errard Zelph said. He packed such contempt into the word Chloe at last recognized his Animus Hunter''s voice.


    ¡°I am of the line of St. Sophia, whose dreams were the dreams of empire. You truly cannot believe I see the future?¡±


    If you saw the future, Chloe wondered, how could you possibly have followed the path you did?


    ¡°I have my moments of prescience, too, Karissa,¡± Errard said. ¡°Hints of might-be and ought-to, nothing more. You cannot rely on them.¡±


    ¡°You are not as I am.¡±


    He withdrew his hand. Chloe wondered if she could sense the pain he didn''t bother to keep from his face. When his lip curled and his eyes darkened, he looked so much more like the man she knew he grew to be.


    Karissa said, ¡°If it were not for my Chloe, I would not object. Death is frightening, parting sad, but both bearable. You should not have threatened her.¡±


    ¡°You''re imagining this, Karissa,¡± Errard said, but he couldn''t keep the strain out of his voice. Karissa already knew, Chloe knew she knew ¨C Principle, she''d said so. Errard didn''t believe she was so weak-minded he could convince her, did he? ¡°I''m not threatening anyone.¡±


    ¡°Mutiny has a way of proving unkind to one side or both,¡± Karissa said. She turned to face him, whirling a train of dark curls behind her. ¡°One need not be a prophet to see how it might spin awry.¡±


    ¡°I''m doing this for you, Karissa,¡± Errard said. He gripped her shoulders, tightly enough Chloe winced along with her birth mother. ¡°For Chloe ¨C even for Theo. None of you want the future this country forces you to have. You''ve said it often enough.¡±


    ¡°It is not the future you want to erase, Errard, but the past. The thing you cannot change, and I must not.¡±


    ¡°You''re wrong,¡± Errard said. ¡°I will not be so kind as to say Theo deserves you, but I know he makes you as happy as you can be within this role. This is a chance, an excuse, to cast away the role entirely.¡±


    ¡°By holding me hostage against my husband''s abdication?¡±


    ¡°I''m giving you, all of you, a chance at a normal life. Isn''t that what you want?¡±


    ¡°It is not what I will have,¡± Karissa said.


    Chloe understood the conversation ended with those words. So, despite his jaw working around another protest, did Errard.


    At least she thought so, until he turned and started to stalk down the hall.


    ¡°Errard,¡± Karissa called, ¡°dear friend, it isn''t too late ¨C¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid it is.¡±


    An explosion ripped through the bulkhead Chloe observed ''from.'' For a moment, her view clouded. When she could see again, Karissa and Errard each floated at the center of a sphere of telekinetic energy. Fire licked harmlessly at their barriers, spurting and spiraling toward the vacuum of an open, unshielded mecha bay. Dead and dying plants curled after it. The entire hallway had blown out, partly collapsing into the bay. Below, men in Imperial Navy and Imperial Guard uniforms, some armored, most not, fired hopelessly into ranks neither side seemed sure existed, heedless of the pair floating overhead.


    If I had been careless, Karissa thought, Chloe would have been hurt by that blast. A blast created by the mutineers, the rebels, with whom my oldest, dearest friend now aligns himself.


    They go too far, Errard thought.


    And you thought you could control this. The contempt in Karissa''s mind astonished Chloe. The Empress seemed so soft, it was hard to remember she had the power as well as the face of a goddess. Too, it seemed she had the will. You are a poorer kidnapper than you have become a friend.


    You and Chloe weren''t hurt, Errard thought, but how long can that last? You must see reason and come with me!


    Karissa looked down at the men below. One of the navy men had unlimbered an anti-mecha battery. That was what had blown out the corridor. It had done worse to a cluster of Imperial Guard mechaneers who had been rushing toward their machines. Their corpses followed flame and the Empress''s planter boxes toward the void. Two guardsmen stormed the battery as another shell rolled into its mechanism. A blast of killing force slammed into the gunner and hurled him back amidst a rapidly vaporizing cloud of blood.


    Chloe realized she still didn''t know which side wanted to protect Karissa and which side wanted to kidnap her.


    Reasonable, thought Karissa. She started to laugh at Errard and ended up choking out a sob.


    Kari ¨C! Errard''s hand stretched out.


    Chloe felt the new, but somehow familiar presence forming around Karissa. She''d expected the young Empress to have to seek out her erinyes, but the mecha came to her. It seemed to come from her, its silvery form spreading beautiful, terrible wings from nothing at all.


    Chloe shouldn''t have been able to see, but she could.


    Oh, Principle, she could.


    Karissa, Errard thought frantically, stop, you aren''t trained for this! You don''t know how to use that kind of power!


    Pray I learn quickly, old friend, Karissa thought.


    You could hurt Chloe!


    Karissa hesitated.


    Chloe wasn''t sure whether to be happy or not, because she wasn''t sure if she was watching the events leading up to the battlecruiser''s doom or a chain that hadn''t, but maybe should have, happened. Already, the killing below looked like the first stages of the ruin she and Rudy had picked their way through, but it wasn''t even close to complete.


    Maybe this Karissa had a chance, or at least a few years with her daughter.


    Deep down, though, Chloe knew better.


    She had a sick feeling she knew what came next.


    The erinyes''s emergence silenced the combatants below, at least for the moment. They hadn''t even noticed when the Empress they wanted to either protect or capture nearly died from their misplaced fire. The unfurling of her mecha got their attention just fine, though.


    They looked up, mouths wide with awe, as Megaera descended among them.


    Errard, discarded, forgotten, drifted toward the airlock. Chloe didn''t know how to parse his expression. He probably didn''t know himself. There was anger, and terror, and sorrow. Jealousy, adoration ¨C and in him, too, awe.


    None of them had seen an erinyes before, Chloe realized.


    Somehow, incongruously, Chloe could see both the Imperial mecha''s silver form and Karissa within it. The Empress looked nearly as awed ¨C and terrified ¨C as any of her subjects, but her jaw was set in a line harder than it seemed designed for and her eyes blazed with what had to be Imperial fire.


    If Chloe hadn''t known what had to happen, she''d have been on pins and needles to see it. As it was, all she wanted to do was look away.


    Stop, Karissa thought.


    The universe obeyed.