Chapter 20

 

Lowell sat in the commons area of the small, rundown Patrol compound on Tivor. He stared out the window but saw nothing. His mind ran in circles. Tivor was a lost cause, he could feel it. His meeting that morning with the Citizen Prime hadn't gone very well, hadn't happened at all considering Potokos hadn't even bothered to appear at the police station next to the Patrol building. Considering the fighting had broken out the night before, Lowell could guess what was more important than their meeting. The shooting had faded with the dawn, but even now there were still scattered sounds of weapons fired in the city. The police were arresting anyone and everyone. Tivor had fallen to pieces.

He'd ordered Harouk to break the treaty with the government of Tivor earlier that morning. They'd cleaned dust and cobwebs from the controls for the force shield and activated it. How long it would hold was anyone's guess. A lot depended on the ancient power generator in the basement.

"Sir?" Commander Harouk's aide, Britneir, was young, pretty, and stubborn. She had refused to leave the planet with the other nonessential personnel. Harouk had four under his command left on Tivor. Lowell had eight ground combat marines. The Seeker had taken the others to Tebros along with Lowell's request for immediate reinforcements. They should be arriving very soon.

"Sir?" Britneir repeated when he didn't answer.

"Yes?" he said finally.

Britneir's dark hair was pulled back in a severe knot at the nape of her neck. She looked very young in her silver uniform. "Commander Harouk says he just picked up the Seeker's beacon. They should be here within an hour."

Lowell nodded. Britneir left him to his solitude and contemplation of the snow falling outside the window. It was night. He glanced at his watch and corrected himself. It was almost morning again. He'd been sitting here, brooding for days it felt like. There was nothing else he could do.

He could only hope that Paltronis and Scholar had made it. Their ship had come into the system. They'd slowed briefly near Tivor, disgorging one small life pod before accelerating away. Lowell had tried to contact them in the pod, after his brief message to them about Dace, but they hadn't answered. He tried to track their pod as it came in. It had come in too fast and there was too much interference. All he knew was that the pod was somewhere near the mountains.

He felt old and useless and outmaneuvered. He still knew nothing about Dace. They might have killed her her first day on Tivor and he would never know. It was getting harder to hope.

It was getting harder to believe. He used to believe in the Empire, in basic goodness and justice and mercy. He used his belief to justify what he did. He had to do it, somebody had to make sure all the pieces stayed where they belonged and he was the one who held the strings that made it possible. Except somewhere in the last four years, he'd lost half the strings. He felt blind and tired and old.

He stared out at nothing until the shuttle from the Seeker landed. He saw the flames of its engines scorching the outer wall of the compound. It had landed just barely beyond the wall. Things on Tivor were that sticky. The last communication with Potokos' representative had made it clear. The Patrol had one week to leave. They'd been given their time limit to be gone or become part of Tivor.

How long could they hold the base with less than twenty people? Most of them probably hadn't shot a weapon since their Academy days, Lowell thought bleakly.

The Seeker hadn't sent a message, at least not one Harouk had seen fit to pass on to Lowell. He wondered what kind of contact the shuttle had made. He saw two people get off. They hurried inside the Patrol compound through the snow. The shuttle lights still glowed. Standard procedure in hostile territory, Lowell thought. Keep the engines warm and the hatch ready. They might have to leave in a hurry.

But I'm not leaving until I find her, Lowell promised himself. Let Tivor crumble around him. He would find Dace, extricate her from this mess, and then he was turning in his resignation. If only Maximillius would accept it. That was the real problem. The Emperor valued him too highly. He would have to find a way to resign that gave Max no option of refusing.

"Sir?" The door opened again, but this time it wasn't Harouk's assistant who entered. It was one of the crew of the Seeker.

"What is it, Dgido?" Lowell asked the man.

The man set a sheaf of papers and data cubes on the table in front of Lowell. "The reports from Tebros. The whole area is destabilizing. The captain wants to pull back to Besht soon."

"He'll leave when I give the order to leave," Lowell said sharply.

"The crew, some of them," Dgido said, "they threatened to desert. Or mutiny. They don't like this, sir."

"I don't like it." Lowell sighed as he pulled the stack towards him.

"They don't want orders to shoot their own families," Dgido said. "We heard, on Tebros, that the ships at Nevira and DeShua were ordered to do just that. It didn't do any good, sir."

Lowell fingered the cubes, his attention on Dgido. "Nevira joined the Federation and the ships ordered to stop their desertion joined, too."

Dgido nodded. "Sir, most of the crew, they're from the outer worlds, the fringe and the frontier. It's their worlds that are leaving. Most just want to be with their families again. They don't want to end up on the wrong side of any border."

"I know that," Lowell said with understanding. "And I'm failing at keeping things together."

"Sir?" Dgido asked in confusion. As far as he knew, Lowell was only an admiral. One with admittedly odd orders and a lot of leverage, but still only an admiral. Lowell didn't see that it would help to admit his true rank.

He shrugged. "I don't know what I can do, but I will do what I can."

"Thank you, sir," Dgido said sincerely.

"And what of my reinforcements? I assume I'm not getting any."

Dgido shook his head. "The captain wasn't very happy about things when we left Tebros. We came in prepared for a fight. He didn't know what to expect."

"None of us know anymore. Please hand me that reader on your way out. And tell the shuttle crew to stand ready for evacuation." He wasn't going to let the staff on Tivor try to become heroes. Most of them had never seen combat and weren't trained for it anyway.

Dgido nodded and fetched a reader from the counter. He placed it on the table near Lowell then left. The door clicked shut behind him.

Lowell looked at the pile of reports and cubes. He really didn't want to read them. He didn't want more bad news. He rubbed his eyes, and wished he could sleep. He tried but his dreams were proving too much, visions of disasters both anticipated and not. The nightmares wore on him. He felt as if he carried the weight of entire planets on his shoulders.

"Stress," he muttered as he dutifully put the first cube into the reader.

It was encrypted, which was no surprise. Most of his information came encrypted. He entered his code word and thumbprint. The cube stayed locked. He cocked his head to one side. He tried his code again, checking the entry to make certain he hadn't made an error. It still remained locked.

He popped the cube out and turned it in his fingers. It was marked personal, for him. That was very odd. What personal news could he possibly be receiving? He had no personal friends, he never really had. His information arrived coded under the Patrol encryption ciphers. Except for the cubes from Scholar, but those were rare and Scholar was here.

It probably came from Jasyn or Clark or one of their strange clan. The only reason they would have for contacting him would be to find out where Dace was and he didn't want to face that yet. There was no way he wanted to tell Jasyn he'd lost Dace again. Once had been bad enough. He set the cube aside.

It bothered him as he read through the other reports. He couldn't concentrate. He had to know what was on the cube. Jasyn wouldn't have sent a cube unless something dreadful had happened. She would have flown here herself, despite every warning not to, if she could. He admired Jasyn, her strength and stubbornness that somehow didn't make her hard. She was still very feminine, very beautiful. She was also very attached to Dace. She had made it clear how much she loathed Lowell the last time he'd talked with her.

His fingers kept straying to the cube. His mind kept wandering to its probable contents. He wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything else until he read that cube. He finally quit trying to ignore it and put it back in the reader.

He tried his personal codes. The cube remained stubbornly locked. What would Jasyn have used to lock it?

"Dace," he said. The cube unlocked. He pushed the play button.

"Hello, Lowell." The voice made Lowell jump in surprise. He hit the pause button.

Messages from the dead? How long had this cube been trying to catch up to him? How was it possible for a message cube to be misplaced and undelivered? The voice on the cube was Tayvis' though, but he was dead on Trythia, a planet a hundred light years from the outer edges of the Empire.

He held his finger over the play button, hesitating to play the rest of the message. His hand shook, his finger trembled. Nerves, he told himself, from lack of sleep. Not a premonitional shiver up his spine. Tayvis was dead. Whatever this message contained, it would be very out of date. It wouldn't be important.

Lowell found himself blinking back unaccustomed tears. He'd failed Tayvis. He'd failed Dace. He couldn't hear that voice again, a clear baritone that woke too many memories. Tayvis had been almost a son to him. He'd spent more time with him than any of his other agents. He'd played favorites, true, but Tayvis was worth it. He'd proven himself time and again.

And he'd still ended up dead. Shot in a confusion of action that shouldn't have happened. Things had gotten too far out of hand. Lowell had lost control of the situation and people he cared about had died.

His finger pushed the button. It was self flagellation to listen now, to the voice of the dead, but Lowell needed to punish himself. He would allow himself to wallow in guilt for just a while. Self indulgence, something he rarely dabbled in.

"Hello, Lowell," the recording started over at the beginning. "I assume you didn't leave me behind on purpose. What was your hurry anyway?"

Lowell sat up and stopped the recording again. Tayvis wasn't dead on Trythia? What was going on? He started the recording again.

"Hello, Lowell. I assume you didn't leave me behind on purpose. What was your hurry anyway?

"Not that it matters much. Trythia wasn't a nice place. For any of us."

There was a pause. Lowell could almost see Tayvis in his mind, running a hand through his hair with a half grin on his face, a combination of accusation and hurt in his eyes. He wouldn't understand why Lowell had run so fast from Trythia. Lowell rubbed his own hair. No, Tayvis would understand, when and if Lowell could get him to listen long enough to explain. It was his death. And Dace's reaction. And Lowell couldn't deal with the grasping, arrogant Trythians. They were too far from the Empire. And Lowell had had enough of violence and death.

The recording had kept playing. He'd missed part of Tayvis' next comment. He backed it up.

"What did you do with Dace? Will told me she survived." There was the sound of a sigh, breathed out quietly, away from the microphone.

"But I have worse news for you, Lowell. Personal things will just have to wait. I hope you get the message in time. They told me I wasn't officially Patrol anymore. So I called in favors to get this to you.

"The Federation, in the person of none other than Roland—remember him from Dadilan? He's the head of the Federation. They came to Trythia not long after you left. There were quite a few left behind. Mostly those who knew the Empire would lock them up if they let the Patrol take them into custody. Will Scarlet, Willet Smythe, was there. He thinks you would have him quietly executed if you saw him again so he hid. He found me."

He paused again. He never rambled like this. Trythia must have been bad for him, bad enough to almost crack him. News that Dace was missing again, on Tivor no less, would send him over the edge.

"Lowell, this is a warning." His voice changed, became more hard and businesslike. "Remember that mess you were in with Roderick, the Emperor's cousin? That was only a diversion. The real conspirators are still there. They've crippled your power, more than you know. I can give you more information, but not like this. It's taken me months just to get back into the Empire. And guess what I find? The Federation is eating the Empire. Maybe in another few months my information won't matter. There won't be an Empire much longer. Unless you can do something about it.

"If you get this message in time, meet me on Viya Station. I'll only be there until the end of the month, though. After that, send a message in care of my mother. I'll make arrangements through her if I need to. She's vacationing on Landruss."

The recording ended with a sharp click. Lowell automatically checked the date of the recording. A week and a half ago. He would have time.

Except Tivor was on the verge of erupting. And Dace was out there, somewhere. He couldn't leave.

The information Tayvis hinted at ran through his mind, digging up memories. He'd been framed for treason. He thought he'd lost Dace over that, but she was stronger than they expected, her Hrissia'noru heritage more than they anticipated. It had marked her, but not killed her.

Were the Hrissia'noru the ones behind the current unrest? No, it was at once more complicated and more simple. Besides, Lowell was their favorite tool for manipulating the Empire. The Inner Worlds had done this to the Empire, at least in part. They'd set up the social imbalance that made it possible for a man with vision to exploit the unrest. That the man was Roland was pure luck. Roland had honor, Roland was not one to seek personal power. Roland had taken the Federation, a group of pirates with rough laws and rougher lives, and transformed them into something to be admired, a form of democracy that worked. It was spreading like a disease through the dissatisfied frontier and outer worlds. Tired of the weight of tradition and taxes, they had no reason to stay loyal to an Emperor they'd never seen. They seceded and joined the Federation.

He rubbed gritty, tired eyes. It all made too much sense. And he was wasting his time here. Tivor was going to either join the Federation or self destruct. And nothing he did would prevent any of it from happening.

He had to stay, for Dace. No, he was letting his personal feelings get in the way. He gathered up the cubes and papers. Dace would survive, somehow. She always managed to survive. He had to believe that. Tivor was soon going to be inaccessible to the Patrol. He could send Jasyn and her gypsy family here to extract Dace later. And Paltronis and Scholar, he added. He had to leave them behind. He had no choice. The message from Tayvis was too big to ignore. Tayvis never cried wolf unless there really was a wolf present, one bigger than he could deal with, which made it a very big wolf indeed.

He sighed as he tucked the reader away in a cabinet. He was just too tired. This was going to be his last operation. No matter what the Emperor or the Hrissia'noru, what was left of them, said, he was quitting. He was old enough to retire. Only his belief in the Empire and his lack of suitable replacements had kept him going this long. He was getting old and he was starting to feel it.

He pushed open the door. Britneir was in the hall, flirting with Dgido. They both snapped to attention at his appearance. He chose to ignore their behavior though it technically should get them both on report. He waved a tired hand at Britneir.

"Tell Harouk to pack up. I'm leaving and I don't know when I'll be coming back here. If ever," he added in a mutter to himself.

Britneir gaped in surprise. "Leaving, sir? Completely abandoning the base?"

"That is what I said," Lowell answered. "Dgido, please tell the shuttle crew one hour."

"He won't go, sir," Britneir informed him.

Lowell studied her, tilting his head to one side. His face showed nothing but mild curiosity. "And why is that?"

"His orders were to hold this base," she said. Lowell guessed, correctly, that she had read orders she shouldn't have. "He won't leave, sir."

"He intends to hold this base with a handful of staff?" Lowell shook his head. "If he wishes to stay here, I won't order him to leave. But I won't let him hold anyone else here, either. Send out the message: General meeting in the commons in one hour. Everyone on the base will be there."

He didn't give her a chance to do anything but salute. He walked quickly down the hallway to the rooms they'd assigned him. If Harouk wanted to be a hero in a hopeless cause, Lowell wasn't going to deny him. He'd try to convince him otherwise, but he wasn't going to force anyone's choice. Everyone on the staff would be given a free choice to stay or leave.

Lowell had no time to give them, either. He had to reach Viya Station within a week. And while he was there, he'd find a fleet to order to Tivor. He wasn't going to leave Dace here longer than he had to.