CHAPTER 9

Simon Kovalic had been dropped from the upper atmosphere into a combat zone, boarded an enemy vessel through the empty void of space, and even once hung onto the keel of a fast boat navigating a mine-laden bay. Through all of that he’d never gotten so much as a twinge of motion sickness.

Right now, he felt like he was going to throw up.

“The princess of the Illyrican Empire. That was your high-level source?” His head spun and he had to fight off the urge to put it between his knees. How much of what they’d been doing had been unwittingly playing into an agenda orchestrated by the very person they’d thought they’d been fighting against?

“Indeed,” said the general. “Her identity was known only to me.”

Kovalic’s eyes flicked to Rance, sitting in the driver’s seat, but a subtle raise of the yeoman’s eyebrows suggested that the general’s confidante had been none the wiser about CARDINAL’s identity either.

“And what makes you think that she’s taken over your old job?”

“We were close, once upon a time.” A wistful note crept into his voice. “Alaric’s focus was always on his sons, Hadrian and Matthias, but Isabella never seemed to hold much interest for him. He’d made me her godfather – I believe he’d intended it as a slight, that he didn’t consider me in that role for either of his male heirs, but he misjudged that, for she was easily the smartest and most driven of them. With her father’s eye fixed elsewhere, I took it upon myself to ensure that she received a thorough education.”

“In other words, you taught her everything she knows.”

“Hardly. I taught her everything I knew, certainly, but I have no doubt she has long since surpassed me. I taught her chess from an early age, but by the time she had reached her teenage years she would regularly emerge triumphant from our matches. This strategy of hers, carefully feeding us information over the course of years, is just her style.”

Kovalic’s mind rifled through the little the general had revealed to him of his secretive source. “To what end? The information CARDINAL has provided has been, frankly, not just accurate but helpful. The Bayern operation, for example – she provided the information that Prince Hadrian would be serving as the Imperium’s envoy to the planet.”

“Indeed,” said the general, nodding. “And what was the end result of our intervention there?”

“We stopped Prince Hadrian from providing a pretext for the Imperium to invade Bayern.” Kovalic’s brow furrowed. “Surely the increase in capital it would have provided – especially given that we know the Imperium has been on shaky financial ground – would have been to her benefit.”

“Ah.” The general raised one gnarled finger. “But that was not the only result. The deal we struck with Colonel Frayn also limited Prince Hadrian’s influence. The heir apparent was effectively taken out of the line of succession.”

Kovalic felt his stomach sinking even further. “I’m guessing Isabella didn’t see eye to eye with her brother.”

The older man spread his hands, as if demonstrating facts in evidence.

“So she used us to do her dirty work,” said Kovalic. “To neutralize her biggest rival.” He shook his head. “I’d be impressed if I didn’t feel like passing out.” Outplaying the general at the long game, now that was quite the accomplishment. But something still nagged at him. “Why do all this? Why you? You said you were close once, but it sure seems like she’s throwing you under the gravbus.”

With a sigh, the general leaned back in his seat. “A combination of things, I think. Some of them eminently rational. If I may be permitted to indulge in some light egotism, Isabella knows that I am the biggest impediment to carrying out whatever her agenda is. So concocting this evidence of treason effectively takes me out of the picture. But…” and here his eyes drifted out the window at the scenery zipping past, “…I also believe there is some degree of emotion at play. She’s angry at me.”

Kovalic raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The general clutched his stick tightly. “Oh, the list of reasons could be quite long, I’m afraid. Chief among them my failure to prevent her mother’s death.”

News from within the Imperium had often been spotty, especially in the early days of the war, but that was a story that even the emperor had not been able to contain. “The assassination attempt,” said Kovalic. “Right after the invasion of Earth. As I recall, there was a faction who believed that Alaric’s war would destroy the Imperium. Some sort of toxin, right? It didn’t kill him, but that’s why his health has been slowly failing for the last two decades.”

“Indeed,” said the general. “Unfortunately, the empress happened to be present as well, and took a much stronger dose.” A shadow flitted over the man’s face, a cloud of darkness that Kovalic had rarely seen there. It was a reminder that these figures, larger than life, the stuff of history books and galaxy-shaking events, had at one point been just people to the older man.

“So why does Isabella blame you for her death? Shouldn’t that responsibility lie with the people that actually killed her?”

“I was a colonel at that point,” said the general, his shoulders slumping. “Head of IIS’s internal security and counterintelligence division. The attack was on my watch, and I should have stopped it, but we didn’t find out until it was already underway. Alaric was too focused on his war to even stop and mourn, and the boys were offworld, with the fleets. That left not only all the arrangements for her state funeral – but also all the grieving – to Isabella alone. Our relationship was never quite the same after that.”

“And yet she agreed to feed you information, at least nominally betraying her own people. What changed?”

“She came to me, six years ago, with concerns about her father. This was when his declining health had started to become more apparent. That provided a… thawing of the bond between us, one that I was all too eager to embrace. It led, in a roundabout fashion, to my defection, and our arrangement: she would share intelligence from within the Imperium, I would work to combat Alaric’s worst impulses from without.” At this, the general allowed himself a rueful chuckle. “I have to admit, it was masterfully done. In other circumstances, I would be proud of her – I’ve been beaten at my own game.”

Kovalic rubbed his chin. “But this can’t all simply be about revenge. If she’s as smart as you say, she must have some goal in mind.”

“On that we agree. If she views me as a potential threat that must be removed, then it is because I am an obstacle to something else. Whatever that is, we cannot allow her to ride roughshod over us. It may be that we’re the only ones who can stand in her way. Which we must. Even if Isabella does not have her father’s desire for conquest, the Commonwealth will not survive her agenda. It would be the difference between the firing squad and slow strangulation.”

“Which means,” said Kovalic, “that we need to figure out how to clear our names.”

“It’s easier said than done, I’m afraid. The evidence that Kester has is technically accurate. Money from my accounts on Bayern were sent to Isabella as part of our arrangement – but she then turned around and used that to fund Alys Costa and the Novan Liberation Front.”

“You can’t be responsible for something you didn’t know,” Kovalic objected. “You were supporting her in good faith; what she does with that money isn’t on you.”

The general gave a small smile. “Ah. Then I look merely obtuse and ineffectual rather than scheming and duplicitous. I’m not convinced that’s going to be an improvement in the eyes of the Commonwealth government or, in particular, Aidan Kester.”

Kovalic had to admit he wasn’t wrong. Kester seemed to have it out for the two of them and, one way or another, Kovalic and the general had neatly coiled up the rope for their own hanging and handed it over with a bow on top. “Let’s set that aside at present. I’m more concerned with how Kester got his hands on that intelligence. From what you’ve said, Isabella seems far too methodical to simply wait for CID or someone to stumble upon this clever evidence trail. Not only did she want it found, but wanted it found at a specific time. Doesn’t seem like she’d want to leave that to chance.”

A bit of the old spark had returned to the general’s eyes, crowding out the melancholy that had set in during their conversation. “Agreed. And if she wanted it delivered at a specific time, then she must have a mechanism for doing so – an asset of some kind positioned to provide that information right when it would do the most damage.”

Kovalic met the old man’s gaze. “A mole. Somewhere within Commonwealth intelligence. And if we find them, we can clear our names – and maybe throw a wrench in whatever Isabella is planning.”

Still, one thing was bothering him, as it had been since the general had begun his revelations; it itched like a tag on the back of a new shirt.

“Why do you think Isabella called the company Tanager Holdings? Surely she would have known that you’d figure it out, connect it to her.”

The general’s head cocked to one side. “Agreed. I have landed upon two mutually possible conclusions: First, that she wanted me to know. None of us are immune from gloating.” A faint note of disappointment crept into his voice. “Second, and more pressingly, she believes it doesn’t matter. Likely because I wouldn’t be in a position to do anything about it. About which,” he sighed and gestured to their surroundings, “she was not wrong. I can only conclude that such confidence means Isabella is in her endgame. But what it is, I fear I have no idea.” His gaze drifted out the window and in it was something that Kovalic had never seen in all the years they’d known each other.

Worry.