Lowell sat at the tiny table, a steaming cup slowly cooling in front of him. He stared down at the swirled pattern printed on the table top as if it held the answers he sought. He sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand. The answers weren't there. He wasn't sure anymore where they were.
He glanced up as a man walked past the small cafe. Half of its tables were located outside the front, almost in the station walkway. The shop across the way was still closed. It was early morning, day shift, on Viya Station. Few people were out and those he saw, like the man now well past the cafe, were on business. Most wore uniforms of one sort or another, usually the gray jumpsuits of station dock workers and techs.
He shifted his cup to one side. He had no intention of actually drinking it. A group of workers, laughing and teasing each other, entered the cafe and ordered. Lowell watched their loud group as they selected a table to sit at. Two women, three men, all looked young and untroubled. He could almost envy them.
Another handful of people entered the cafe, ordering breakfast. The walkway filled with people. Another day had started on the station. The lights flickered to full brightness. The tables at the cafe filled up with people. Lowell watched them, a habit almost as old as he was.
Tayvis entered the cafe. He wore a dock workers jumpsuit, gray and baggy. Lowell wondered idly if they were deliberately made not to fit anyone. Tayvis collected a cup and turned, surveying the cafe. The chair across from Lowell was one of the few still empty. Tayvis made his way through the crowd to the chair. Lowell admired the way Tayvis made it look casual, unplanned. He waited until he was settled before speaking.
"You're looking well, for a dead man."
Tayvis looked up. His face was thinner, his expression harder, than Lowell remembered. A faint scar started just past his left eye, angling into his hairline.
"You're looking well," he replied, "for an admiral. Is the Patrol demoting everyone or are you slumming again?"
"I do what I have to," Lowell answered, more sharply than he intended. "I always have."
"And what good has it done anyone?"
Lowell could almost taste the hostility in the air. This wasn't what he wanted. He lifted his cup and tasted the tepid liquid instead. It was as bitter as the expression on Tayvis' face.
"I'm sorry," he said. He couldn't meet Tayvis' eyes as he set his cup back down. It clinked against the table top.
"Did you leave me there deliberately?" Tayvis asked, his voice cold. "Trythia was a long way out of the Empire."
"I'm glad you made it back."
"Are you really?" Tayvis leaned forward over the table. "Tell me the truth, Lowell, if you're even capable of it anymore, did you mean to leave me behind?"
"It was such a mess. We had to leave before it got worse. I gathered up the ones I knew were still alive. I was told you were dead, shot point blank. And after what they found in the breeding pens, I just couldn't face it any more." He let his voice trail away, unwilling to put that particular memory into words. "I couldn't stand it on Trythia any longer."
Silence fell between them. Lowell took another sip of the bitter brew, self punishment.
"Who told you I was dead?"
"Vance." The name fell heavily into the space between them. "I had no reason not to trust him."
Tayvis sighed and ran his hand through his hair, a familiar gesture that hadn't changed. The hostile set of his mouth relaxed a fraction. "He's the one who knocked me cold with a rock and left me tied up in the canyon. I would have died if Will hadn't found me."
Lowell lifted one eyebrow, invitation to explain. Tayvis ignored it.
"Will told me Dace got out in one piece," Tayvis continued. "What have you done with her?"
Lowell turned his cup in circles on the table, debating with himself. He couldn't read Tayvis as well as he used to. He couldn't predict what he would do. And he couldn't afford to alienate him, not now.
"She's on an assignment," he said vaguely.
Tayvis went still as stone. Not good, Lowell thought bleakly. Silence built between them, tense and uncertain.
Tayvis finally broke it. "Admiral Dace," he said flatly. "Where did you send her?"
"Tivor."
Lowell kept his eyes locked on Tayvis' face. Anger smoldered in the younger man's eyes, a slow burn that was going to be very dangerous when he finally exploded.
"You want to destroy her?" Tayvis said it low, barely above a whisper.
"Telling her you were dead almost did. I sent her to Tivor to try to keep her alive. She wanted to die."
"And because it suited your plans."
Lowell flinched. "I didn't have a choice. I was given a direct order to do whatever was necessary to keep Tivor in the Empire. Dace was my best hope of that."
Tayvis studied him for a long moment, his brown eyes expressionless and unreadable. "Maybe they're better off in the Federation."
"Maybe they are." Lowell couldn't hide the defeat in his voice. "I swore an oath of loyalty to the Empire, though. Nothing has changed that."
"Makes me glad my enlistment is up. Although it's a real pain trying to convince the powers that be I'm not dead. Makes it hard to get anything done when everyone keeps telling me I'm supposed to be a corpse."
"I'll see what I can do," Lowell offered, out of habit.
"Don't, please. You've meddled enough in my life."
The silence this time was awkward.
"So, what are you planning to do?" Lowell asked.
"Find a ship to Tivor and get Dace out of whatever mess you've landed her in." He shrugged. "And then maybe I'll go visit my mother for a while."
Lowell shook his head. "Tivor is closed to outsiders. I'll find her."
"You lost her?" There was an edge to his words that cut deeply.
Lowell looked down into his cup. "Tivor is impossible. It's a mess. They're kicking the Patrol and everyone else out. People are starving. There's rioting in the streets."
"You sent her there. What did you expect to happen?"
"I didn't expect to not hear from her. I expected my agents to find her and help her. I found out after she went in that I don't have any agents on Tivor anymore." He rubbed his head. He had an ache that never quite went away. "I sent Paltronis and Scholar to get her out. They're all I have left that I can still trust."
He expected Tayvis to be angry, to hold him guilty for everything that had gone wrong. He didn't expect the understanding look he got instead.
"Everything's going down the tubes. I knew what was happening to your networks when they transferred me to Exploration. Under protest. Not that it did any good. You'd contaminated me so I wasn't fit for duty anywhere else."
"Trythia was the breaking point," Lowell admitted. "I messed up. Badly. Max wasn't happy with me. The others were out for my blood."
"You're still High Command?" Tayvis made no comment about the casual reference to the Emperor.
"Barely. Banished to the Outer Planets for the time being. They're tired of getting reports of unrest. They sent me out here to make it go away. They have no idea what's really happening because they refuse to open their eyes and see."
"The fringe worlds aren't much better. All they can see is the promise to get out of Imperial taxes." Tayvis fingered the rim of his cup.
"Is that what they get?" Lowell asked. "When they join the Federation? Fewer taxes?"
Tayvis studied him for a long moment. "You really don't know?"
Lowell shook his head. "I hear rumors of rumors that hint at a different way of life, a different form of government. The hereditary rulers are running scared. Everyone else seems happy about it."
A group of loud workers left the table next to them. Their laughter echoed back along the busy walkway. Tayvis leaned closer after they left.
"It really isn't changing much. I've been working my way from world to world, trying to get back into the Empire. Most of them couldn't understand why until I told them I had family left behind. Then they understood much too well."
Lowell didn't comment.
"There are whole battle groups of Patrol out there," Tayvis said. "With the Patrol logo painted over and the patches removed from their uniforms. Roland has several Fleets now."
"I knew they were defecting. It was only a matter of time after the incidents on Nevira and DeShua. They were given orders to fire on their own people. Most refused. Needless to say, both Nevira and DeShua are solidly part of the Federation now." Lowell frowned into his cup. "Why is the name Roland so familiar?"
"You haven't made that connection yet?" Tayvis twitched one corner of his mouth, the closest he was going to come to smiling. "Remember a nasty little planet and a screwed up undercover assignment you sent me on? Does the name Dadilan sound familiar?"
Lowell looked up sharply, his brows creased. His silver eyes were opaque, hiding the furiously racing thoughts. "Dadilan is primitive, grade four last I heard. What would it have to do with the Federation?"
"Dace didn't tell you? She and Will had quite the conversation on Trythia."
"She didn't say much after I told her you were dead. At least little that would be repeatable in any kind of society, polite or otherwise."
"You'll tell her I'm very much alive?"
"When I find her, yes," Lowell promised. "I'll hand her honorable service papers and send her to you."
"And what about Jasyn and Clark and her ship?"
"I have no idea where the Phoenix is, somewhere past Epsilon Deltai last I heard. I can send a message to them, but I don't know if or when it will arrive."
"Then leave it to me. You get Dace off Tivor."
"Is that an order?"
"Do you really want to play it that way, Grant?" Tayvis said, deliberately using Lowell's given name. "I don't work for you and Dace never should have."
"You gave me the idea, on Dadilan."
"And I've regretted it ever since." Tayvis shifted restlessly in his chair. "I'm late for my shift."
"Answer just two questions first," Lowell asked. "Who are Roland and Will? And how is Dadilan mixed up with the Federation?"
"And what does it have to do with Dace and why and a whole lot of other questions. It's never simple or easy with you, Grant."
"And it isn't painless with you either, Malcolm."
"Touché." Tayvis picked up his cup and drained it. He set it back on the table. "Will was Will Scarlet on Dadilan, one of Barricion Muir's research assistants. I think you knew him as Willet Smythe."
"I've never heard his name before," Lowell lied. What was the Hrissia'noru Council thinking? Will worked for them. The connection to Trythia made no sense.
"He was working undercover," Tayvis insisted. "You had to have known he was there."
Lowell shook his head. "There were five different agencies involved. I only knew of my own agents and the Patrol staff assigned to the base. He could be what he claims and I would have no way of verifying it. Not now."
"We'll assume he's telling me the truth. He hasn't lied to me yet. He's one of Roland's aides. Ambassador to wherever is needed. Roland is a monk of the order of Myrln. Someone in the Patrol got the brilliant idea to name him planetary governor of Dadilan when they reclassified its status. Dadilan was given open trade and contact status. Roland took every opportunity he could to visit Imperial worlds and learn whatever he could. He didn't pass up the opportunities to contact the then small Federation and the other loosely organized systems beyond the fringe. He went back to Dadilan and with the help of Muir and others, he remade the entire government of Dadilan into his vision of a perfect society. And then he started exporting his ideas. The Federation gave him support. They were the first to adopt his new form of government."
"Did I ever meet Roland?"
"I doubt it. He's easy to overlook. Short, half bald on purpose, usually wears a brown robe. He doesn't squint anymore thanks to modernized medicine. One of his imports from the Empire. Dadilan has better medical services than most of the Empire."
"And how does this help me? Your message hinted at other issues, such as treason."
"I'm getting to that. I've heard rumors of another plot to depose Maximillius and the Council of Worlds. Or blow them all up if the other fails."
"Do these rumors say who's behind it?" Lowell shifted his cup from hand to hand. He'd heard the rumors for the last two years. There was always some plot somewhere in the Empire. "How does it tie in with the Federation?"
"Roland isn't behind it. The Federation isn't behind it. Someone close to the Emperor is."
"Not Roderick. I knew it was too intricate for him. He's usually much more direct."
"He was a distraction. And it accomplished what they wanted. It destroyed your information network."
"And broke up my power base. One final question. Why would Vance want you left on Trythia?"
Tayvis sat back in his chair and thought about his answer. Lowell waited, watching him.
"You warned me about much of this in your message," Lowell added after a long moment. "Tell me something I don't already know. Tell me something that will help."
"Vance can't be important. It was personal with him and it has been since the first day at the Academy. We were in the same class. He always hated that I was better at just about everything."
"He is rather well connected. Are you positive there isn't anything more to it than attempted murder because of personal jealousy?"
"Why would he be part of a plot? He already has the political connections. Why jeopardize that by being involved in a conspiracy to commit treason? He isn't in contact with the Federation or Will would have known. How hard did he try to get you to let him near Dace?"
"He asked, several times. I wasn't letting anyone near her, except Paltronis. I was afraid she'd hurt anyone else." He pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Are you certain about Vance?"
"As certain as I can be about anyone." Tayvis made a move to leave. Lowell stopped him, reaching for his wrist. He sat back down. "What?"
"You know how to contact the Federation. That makes you a very dangerous man. And a moving target."
Tayvis deliberately moved Lowell's hand off his arm. "You taught me better than that. I shared my information out of obligation to you. I think we're finished now." He stood then leaned close over the table. "I'm headed to Landruss to visit my mother. She'll know how to find me once you extract Dace."
"You'll have access to high society. You have contacts in places I can't reach. For the good of the Empire, will you help me?"
"You have the nerve to ask me that?"
"I trust you, Tayvis."
"If I hear anything you should know, I'll send a message." He turned to go.
"Tayvis?" Lowell called. Tayvis turned back to him. "I'm sorry," Lowell whispered.
"I'm sorry, too." Tayvis left, slouching away in the baggy gray jumpsuit.
Lowell sat, staring unseeing down the crowded walkway until long after Tayvis had disappeared. Things could have been so much different. It was ultimate arrogance on his part, to think he alone could hold the Empire together. The cost had been too high and it was only now, long after he had made others pay that price, that he realized how big a mistake he had made.
He sighed heavily and stood, shaking out creases in his silver uniform. He would do what he could to make amends. And then he was through. Max would just have to accept his resignation because Lowell wasn't going to do it anymore.