17

Copenwald, Halstead Station
7 August 3136

 
Expressionless, Crawford listened as a white-faced aide named Meriwether delivered the news. Afterward, Crawford took five minutes alone, red hair cascading around his face as he wept: huge, wracking sobs he stoppered with a fist.

And that was all the time he could spare. Immediately pressing were alerting the various commands; marshalling troops for Dieron; awaiting and then digesting Fusilli’s intel on Biham, where Parks and McCain now were also stationed; and alerting Viki Drexel, who’d left for Junction a week ago, about Katana’s death. If he could even find Viki: Agents in the field specialized in making themselves scarce.

How ironic that news of Katana’s death had coincided with a triumph. She’d succeeded in securing a galaxy of Cats to mount campaigns on Styx and Saffel, then had gone to Luthien to lay out their plan of action. She’d taken her place as a full warlord even as they battled to rebuild the district, but gone into that Black Room, her head high. Now, without Katana at the helm, the Cats might find a loophole to exploit. Better the Cats stay in the dark.

By God, I am beginning to think like a politician.

The same message also contained the coordinator’s posting of Yori Kurita to Dieron command, and her elevation in rank to sho-sho. Like it or not, Yori now had command privilege by right of blood and rank.

Yes, little girl, we’ll take your orders, but the jury’s out on you. When we strike Dieron, we will not take it for you—because Dieron is what Katana wanted, and Dieron she’ll get.

 
Hoarder’s Run, Sakuranoki
New Samarkand Military District, Draconis Combine
20 August 3136

The dojo smelled of sweaty feet and wet leather, but Yori Kurita paid no mind, her attention instead focused on her opponent. Jirobi Katanga, late of Ronel and the Fury, was tall, with very long arms and a better reach. Already, he’d scored with well-timed cuts, parrying her bamboo blade with ease, taking advantage not only of his height but of the energy of her attacks.

Frustrated, Yori blinked away sweat. This type of free-form fighting, keiko, was much more demanding than the simple exercises of kendo kata. There, she always knew who was bad, and who shidachi. In kendo, the uchidachi always lost because the bad guy always struck first.

As they have all my life: Then you see the attack coming, you know exactly how to parry and defeat his energy, turn it against him . . .

There was a loud double rap on wood. Instantly, she and Jirobi came out of their stances. Grateful for the chance to cool down, Yori stripped off her do as a lieutenant approached, a folded sheaf of paper in one hand. She knew at once by the look on his face that something was very wrong. ‘‘A priority message from Tai-shu Toranaga, Kurita-san.’’

At her gasp, Katanga said, ‘‘What is it? Are you all right?’’

Angry at her slip, she said, simply, ‘‘Tai-shu Tormark is dead. An accident when her DropShip attempted to aid another ship in distress.’’

The color drained from Katanga’s face. She was stunned when she saw the shine of tears. Would anyone mourn her? Quickly, she squelched the thought as irrelevant and focused on what to do next. Tormark was gone, and this was her moment. Clearly, her patron understood, else he’d never have the news couriered so quickly. (And did he have a hand in this? That crocodile, she wouldn’t put it past him.)

There is a time to act, and a time to mourn. For now, I act.

She dismissed the messenger, then turned to Katanga, whose tears rolled unashamed down his cheeks. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of satisfaction as she bent to retrieve her do and took up her stance—because the game had suddenly changed, and she knew exactly what to do.

‘‘Enough,’’ she said. ‘‘Make ready your shinai. Dry your eyes and fight. There is time for grief when the fight for Dieron is past, but now you are a warrior, and you will rise to battle. So, fight because that is what Tai-shu Tormark would demand. Fight for your dead leader’s honor.’’

And then tomorrow, at first light, prepare to fight for me, now your leader and very much alive—because I so command.