High Moon, Roseworld (Mari III), Mari System, Cheng-Huang Alignment.
Life on the Cheng-Huang Alignment worlds only seemed laid back and relaxed. Khalil had visited the primary worlds in the Alignment before and had learned that the Alignees’ preoccupation with leisure time pursuits was deceptive.
Even the most astute business leaders and politicians would speak loudly of the joys of family gatherings, games and gambling. Alignees loved their days off. Public holidays were frequent and if you arrived at Hu or Xiang or High Moon on one of those holidays, it could feel as though the whole world had shut down into hibernation mode.
Only, while those same Alignees were swimming and relaxing and drinking to excess, they were also forging deals and building relationships.
The first time it happened to Khalil, he had thought he was having a leisurely dinner at the Minister of Culture’s home in the high mountains. Over tea and a century-old fortified brandy, Madhuri Truman had asked Khalil odd questions about the newest generation of AI neural networks. They had laughed about the poor quality and failures of the previous generation. Maddie had even told stories about how her granddaughter had trained the household AI to attend her school lessons on her behalf and lie to the family about it.
Khalil had returned to his Bureau chief believing a deal had not been struck, only to find the Cheng-Huang Alignment had set up a new contract that included the latest generation of neural networks with stronger ethical sub-routines tailored to Alignment values—an expensive add-on that had been suggested by Khalil as a pot-sweetener. He could not recall making such an offer, yet could not refute they had discussed ethics, especially lying.
Khalil grew more cautious about his dealings with the Alignment, after that.
Now he was back on High Moon, enjoying the strong winter sunshine and tea—no brandy, thank you. Maddie Truman was the same gracious host he remembered. This high up, the mountain peaks were wreathed with clouds, tinted pink by the late afternoon red sun bouncing off the face of Roseworld, that High Moon circled. It was a peaceful view.
“You’re looking better now,” Maddie Truman said, as she poured more tea into his cup. She pushed the flowing folds of her brocaded gown out of the way with unconscious and practiced grace. Khalil couldn’t remember her wearing anything other than elegant gowns and elaborate hairstyles. She was always a graceful note to any room.
“Better?” Khalil said, echoing her. He let himself rest back in the low, soft armchair. He didn’t lower his mental guard.
“You were tired when you arrived here yesterday morning. A good night’s sleep, some excellent food and time to relax, and you look much more yourself.” She sat down with a small smile and picked up her own teacup. “Life has not been easy for you lately.”
He had so far steered most of the conversations away from dangerous topics. Maddie made it seem as if she was politely following his conversational lead—she could speak about anything or nothing for long minutes at a time and still make it sound interesting. Over the last two days, though, Khalil had spotted the pattern. Over and over again, she brought the conversation back to him, his life and his doings. The questions were always very polite and indirect, as was this one about his health. He had her pegged now. The Minister of Culture wanted to know about Bellona, but wouldn’t ask directly.
She would also resent him raising the topic himself. For some reason, she did not want to openly talk about Bellona. Given how the Cheng-Huang Alignment could twist an innocent conversation, he could understand her reluctance to speak openly. A direct conversation would be loaded with leverage he could later use.
Khalil sipped the tea. It was very good. Strong, yet not overpowering. High Moon tea was grown on the middle slopes of the mountains, where the air was too thick to breathe for long. The altitude was perfect for crops.
He put the cup aside. “You have a lovely home, here, Minister.”
“Thank you.” She dimpled. “This house has been in my family for five generations. The front slope wing was the first to be built, of course. During the Hu-Xiang war, my grandfather carved out the second terrace, which doubled the footprint, It was a good thing, too, for most of his family on Hu came over to High Moon after the war. There are four generations of us living here right now.”
Khalil nodded. “High Moon is a delightful place. It soothes the soul and encourages peace.”
He held still, wondering if she would spot his cue.
“Peace is a much underrated value,” she said replied. “Most strangers who come to High Moon do not appreciate the quality. You are wise beyond your years, Khalil.”
Then she was willing to talk indirectly. Encouraged, Khalil gave a small shrug. “You flatter me, Maddie. I am not nearly as wise as you. I am smart enough to know, however, that peace is a much-sought-after commodity across the known worlds.”
“True,” she agreed. “Wars have been fought to acquire it, which is ironic, is it not?”
“It is a pity that those who seek it do not know they can find it here,” Khalil said carefully.
Something flashed in her eyes and was gone too fast for Khalil to analyze it. He had prodded her. He wasn’t sure how.
“Perhaps,” Maddie said casually, sipping her tea once more, “they are looking in the wrong place. Tall cities and open seas with their storms and unrest…they do not naturally encourage peace.”
Tall cities. Vertical cities. She was speaking about Cerce!
Khalil fought the impulse to revert to plain speaking. Maddie would not forgive him for such rudeness. “The search for peace is a learning process,” he pointed out. “One cannot recognize when one has found it, unless they have sampled the lack of it elsewhere first.”
There. That would address Maddie’s slighted feelings because Bellona had dared to speak to Alberda before speaking to her. It also dealt with Bellona’s original sin of being born a warring Eriuman.
Maddie looked thoughtful. “With everything you say, you prove your wisdom, Khalil. Turmoil and strife are strong motivations to find peace. I wonder if they would condition the seeker, just as the peace here encourages us to gentler outlooks?”
Khalil sighed. She was questioning Bellona’s history. She doubted her motives. It was a universal doubt, it seemed. No one believed an Eriuman who had fought for the Karassians for ten years could possibly want peace for the free worlds and was willing to fight for them and with them to get it. No one believed a woman with Bellona’s history could possibly change her loyalties like that.
“And now you are back to looking tired once more,” Maddie said. “This\ will not do, Khalil Ready. I would not say farewell when your state is poorer than when you arrived.”
“I must leave soon, though,” Khalil said. “The hunt goes on,” he added.
“Have dinner with my family tonight,” she insisted. “A good, solid meal in front of you, some excellent company and we will send you on your way with a peaceful heart.”
Khalil studied her. A solid meal? In front of him?
Then he understood. The Alignment wanted proof. Solid, tangible proof that Bellona’s change of allegiances was genuine, that her cause and her ability to fight for it were real.
That put the Alignment right in the same corner as the rest of the free states.
“That sounds wonderful, thank you, Maddie,” Khalil lied.
* * * * *
Eriuman Republic Ship Ennius, Revati System.
“I do appreciate your invitation, Admiral Eucleides,” Iulia said, looking around the captain’s quarters of the Ennius. “I admit that this is my first time on a cruiser. I am shocked by how much room they have. I was under the impression that ships were cramped and crowded.”
“A frigate, perhaps,” Lucretia Eucleides Dejulia de Criselda said, leaning back against the comfortable sofa and spreading her arms along the back, which had the effect of making the buttons and gilt on her uniform lift and spread. “A convoyer, most certainly. They are the runabouts of the navy. However, enough room for everything we must carry is what defines a cruiser.”
Iulia sipped the wine. It was a poor quality compared to the wine in the cellars of the Cardenas homebase. She avoided grimacing and put the glass down on the low table beside the sofa she was sitting on. “I should come to the point,” she said. The information she had uncovered about the admiral hinted that she did not like having her time wasted.
“Then you didn’t wrangle my invitation merely to gawk at a big ship?” Lucretia asked.
“You’re too busy for nonsense like that.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
“I would ask why it is that we’ve never met before,” Iulia said. “Yet you are a Dejulii and military, too. There have been few occasions where our paths might cross. I confess I wanted to meet the most powerful woman in the Eriuman navy.”
Lucretia Eucleides didn’t move, or give any reaction. Her face remained placid. She was a handsome woman in her seventh decade and she had spent her life battling her way up through the ranks. There were fewer than two hundred women in the Eriuman Navy, even though regulations did not prevent them from joining. Eucleides had paid the price for her career, though. She had no partner and no family left on the Dejulian worlds, and a career that was waning.
Iulia did not underestimate her. To have flourished in a fraternity as strong as this one took skill, diplomacy and ruthlessness. That was why Iulia had picked her out.
Lucretia finally responded to Iulia’s bare-faced compliment. “Is there something you want from me, Iulia Cardenas Scordina de Carosa?”
“I want only for us to be friends.”
“I see.” Eucleides’ tone was flat.
Iulia gave the admiral her best warm smile. “You may have heard that there is some…movement at the head of my clan’s table, lately.”
“I did hear that,” Eucleides said. “I also heard that the current head of the clan, that Peru boy, may not be as docile as you would prefer.” She smiled.
“You keep tabs on clan politics,” Iulia said. “Good. That will save time.” She picked up her glass and sipped again, to give her time to regather her thoughts. Eucleides was more informed than she had suspected a military leader had a right to be. She should have been braced for this possibility. “I have no influence over Peru, although I don’t believe he will remain in the top chair for very long, so my lack of leverage is not an issue. The other contenders, those closest to the chair, are all contained.”
“Contained?” Eucleides repeated, her tone one of curiosity.
“They will vote the way I suggest, when the time comes,” Iulia said impatiently.
“Ah.” Eucleides’ smile was enigmatic. “And now you set your sights upon the military?”
“It is no secret that the generals and admirals in favor with the clans get bigger budgets and larger ships, more power, more recognition and more fame.”
“You offer me more power?” Eucleides asked. “I, the most powerful woman in the Navy?” She didn’t smile, yet Iulia knew she was laughing at her.
“The most powerful woman yes. Just not the most powerful admiral,” Iulia said flatly.
Eucleides smile faded. “Perhaps I am content with my station.”
“If you were, you would have retired five years ago.” Iulia took a breath for courage. “You hate that the other admirals have held you back, that no clan acknowledges you as their point man. It makes you writhe every time one of the other, weaker admirals gets a pat on back.”
In fact, she was guessing that this was so. Iulia had read Eucleides’ biographical profiles carefully. No clan had adopted her, not even her own. The lines between the clans and the military were not direct—the most powerful admirals attracted the support of the most powerful clans. The Admiral General of the Navy had been a Scordini pet for decades and he was of the lowly Jaleesa clan.
There was a chance Eucleides would deny Iulia’s assertions and Iulia waited for her response with a degree of trepidation that was leavened with the knowledge that if this moment back-fired, there were many captains and rear admirals that might be more eager to add another stripe to their sleeve.
“You would have your clan’s assembly support me?” Eucleides asked, her voice distant, as if she was thinking very hard.
“They support Admiral General Haisey,” Iulia replied. “That could change, depending on who sits in the chair.”
“You want me to help you move your pet into the top chair?”
“No,” Iulia said flatly. “This is not a trading of favors, Lucretia. This will be a working partnership. There are things I want, that the Navy can provide, that you can provide, if you are in a position to do so. I can put you in that position.”
“You want me to challenge Haisey.” Eucleides shook her head. Iulia didn’t know if she was expressing disbelief or admiration.
“As a means to an end,” Iulia corrected. “Clan squabbles will be beneath both of us when this is all over.”
For a long moment, Eucleides sat still, thinking it through. Iulia remained silent, giving her the time she needed.
“I’d heard you were ambitious,” Eucleides said at last.
“Then you have underestimated me, if that is the extent of your evaluation,” Iulia replied.
Eucleides grinned. It was a quick, sudden expression, as if she was smiling despite herself. Her smile faded just as quickly. “I heard that you were ambitious and that you only came to that ambition recently, because of your daughter’s actions and your husband’s passing. You have my sympathy.”
Iulia shook her head. “Is that what they say about me?” She let her amusement show this time. “Truly, the men of our worlds know so little of what we are truly capable. My ambitions have only come to light because Reynard was no longer there as my point man. Now I cannot be as circumspect as I once was.”
“And your daughter’s rebellion and her current activities in free space had no influence upon your agenda?” Eucleides asked curiously.
“What are her current activities?” Iulia asked. “The public feeds are not forthcoming.”
“That is because she has fallen off the map.” Eucleides shrugged. “The girl was a bur in our sides for months. Haisey thinks she has been killed in some bar scrap and we can concentrate on the Karassians once more.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Bellona Cardenas is Reynard’s daughter…and yours. I no further believe she got herself killed in a bar fight than you do. Her disappearance, in that case, is a matter of concern. It means she has found a sanctuary we do not know the location of and even now is shoring up her defenses.”
“You think she will be back.”
“I do.” Eucleides studied her. “You want to pay Bellona back for the ruin of your family, yes?”
“Would you blame me if I did?” Iulia asked.
“I would only question whether you have the stomach for what must be done, if that is your aim.” Eucleides got to her feet and brushed out the purple uniform. The gilt glittered as she moved over to the low table and picked up the wine that Iulia had been drinking. She drained the glass in two large swallows and put it down again.
Iulia’s heart skittered. Now they had come to the crux of it and she recognized the moment.
Eucleides looked down at her. “So…Iulia of the Scordinii. Do you have the fortitude that is needed?”
Iulia got to her feet, facing the Admiral. “You won’t be disappointed,” she said and kissed her.