13

Capital Spaceport, Ningbo

Liampo continent, Ningpo

Prefecture V, The Republic

28 November 3134

It was a landing like Ningpo’s Capital Spaceport had never seen. The huge Excalibur DropShip came out of a north-south polar orbit, rather than the normal west-east orbit. This brought it down across the landmass of the Liampo continent, and nearly over the capital city of Ningbo, rather than across the ocean. This was not only unusual, it was a violation of half a dozen flight rules.

The ship came in steeply, necessitating a hard burn directly over the city that rattled windows well out into the suburbs. Those who came outside to see what the noise was looked up to see a blue sky, dappled with wispy white clouds. Moving from north to south was a huge silver egg, gleaming in the sun, with the blue glare of four mighty fusion thrusters shining from its base.

A diplomatic vessel arriving at the spaceport could be counted on to land in one of the more isolated landing pads, far from prying eyes, but this ship was different. It came in over the pad closest to the crowded terminal so that thousands of eyes were drawn to its glittering, freshly painted beauty.

The ship lined up over the pad and began to lower, tail first. Three hundred meters above the reinforced thermocrete of the pad, it once again did something extraordinary. The ship stopped, and hovered motionless—not only a violation of regulations, but an enormous waste of fuel.

There it paused just long enough for everyone’s attention to focus on the ship. Four thrusters around its midsection began to fire, and the DropShip began to turn gracefully on its axis, like a 16,000-ton ballet dancer. In the terminal, there was a collective gasp, an intake of breath, as they watched the silver egg slowly revolve in front of them, displaying the seventy-meter SwordSworn symbols painted on two sides—an amber disk surrounded by a white circle, representing a dark planet with the burst of a rising sun around it, and in front of it all an upward-pointing sword, its blade overlaid with some mirrorlike material that flashed in the sunlight as the ship turned.

Then, one final flourish. Two of the main thrusters in the base of the great ship, an opposing pair, throttled up. As they did, the two other opposing thrusters throttled down to almost nothing so that there was no net change in thrust and the ship remained perfectly suspended. Then, after a moment, the first two thrusters throttled down, and the other two throttled up to compensate. This continued, back and forth, perfectly timed so that it happened twice per revolution. It was a breathtaking display of piloting skill, which turned the ship into an inverted fountain of dancing fire.

Then, and only then, did the ship settle to the apron, which was now glowing from the sustained heat. Just short of the ground, the mighty landing legs unfolded from its base, just in time to gently kiss the ground.

Those who were there would still talk about it years later, and the holovids would be shown again and again. No one would ever forget they were there the day Tyrannos Rex arrived on Ningpo.

On the bridge, Captain Clancy took his hands off the controls and clapped them together with childish glee. “I always wanted to do that, Duck! Always!” He looked up at Duke Aaron Sandoval, who stood behind him. “Now, you’re sure I’m not gonna get my license yanked for this?”

Aaron smiled. “One way or the other, I assure you, it will all be taken care of. Any bribes or fines I have to pay will be well worth it. But actually, I don’t think it will come to that.” He grinned slightly. “A Republic-issued Master’s license may be of limited value to you after this, anyway.” He glanced over at Maxton, the first officer, and noticed that she was still clutching the arms of her chair, and looking a little ashen. “Is there a problem, Mate?”

“Low-altitude hover is the most dangerous thing a spherical DropShip can do. If we’d had a thruster problem at that altitude, there would have been no time to recover.”

Clancy made a hissing sound. “Those engines are solid as rock. Anyways, it was worth the risk. If our numbers got called up—well—what a way to go!”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t the first reference that Clancy had made to wanting a suitably spectacular death. He wasn’t sure if it was anything to be concerned about. Probably it was just gallows humor, but Clancy was getting on in years. There was some cause to worry that, if an opportunity presented itself, Clancy might be tempted to go out in a blaze of glory, and take anyone else on the ship along for the ride. Still, Aaron would trade this small worry for more typical political duplicity any day.

Clancy unbuckled his straps and climbed out of his seat. He slapped Maxton on her shoulder as he went past. “Relax, Mate. This is one you can tell your grandkids about.”

“Aye, Captain.” She grinned at him weakly. “Just don’t make a habit of it, or you’ll make a landlubber out of me.”

Aaron had left instructions for a call to be put through to the Governor as soon as they landed. The operator looked up, nodded, and pointed to a nearby communications screen. Aaron stepped up to the screen.

In a moment, the Governor’s face appeared. He looked slightly flustered. “Duke Sandoval, was that air show truly necessary?”

Aaron smiled. “I apologize, Governor. But, as you may have heard, an attempt was made on my life mere weeks ago. The unorthodox approach was part of my security precautions. I would have secured advance authorization, but announcing one’s plans does tend to defeat the purpose.”

The Governor frowned. “Well, I suppose that’s justifiable.”

“I hope this doesn’t get us off on the wrong foot, Governor. I’m here to make a very important proposal to your government—one that will affect the safety and independence of your world. I’d like to discuss it as soon as possible. Perhaps over dinner?”

“I’ve got a dinner meeting scheduled with key members of the Congress.”

“I’ve got no problem including them in our meeting, Governor, if you don’t. In fact, the more the merrier.”

The Governor hesitated. “Well, it’s short notice, but I suppose I can have the chef make room for one more at the table—”

Aaron chuckled and shook his head. “No, Governor, you don’t understand. I wasn’t trying to crash your dinner. I was inviting you to mine. I’d like you and your guests to dine with me here tonight. Have them bring their spouses as well, if you wish. We can slip aside and discuss our business after dessert.”

The Governor was puzzled. “Dinner there? Where? At the spaceport?”

“On my ship, Governor. I’d like you to accept my hospitality on the Tyrannos Rex. ”

The Governor blinked back his surprise. “Really, Lord Governor. If you think I’m going to trade my palace chef for some …mess hall, then—”

“It’s not like that at all, Governor. Let’s see.” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Chef Bellwood has given me a menu. We’ll begin with a Foie Gras Saut'e au Framboises and a Tarte d’Escargots de Tomate et l’Estragon. The main course will be Thai Saumon Oriental in a sweet cream ginger sauce—”

The Governor’s eyes widened, and he waved for Aaron to stop. “I apologize, Lord Governor. I would be… fascinated to see what you have to offer.”

Aaron smiled broadly. “Very well, Governor. Would seven, local time, be agreeable?”

“But of course. I look forward to it. Until tonight.”

The screen blanked, and Aaron’s smile became even broader, and perceptibly more genuine. “The opening salvo of our campaign has landed squarely on target.” He turned to Clancy. “I’m headed below. Call Ulysses and tell him I’m ready to meet the press at any time.”

The press conference had been ordered up, catalog-style, by downlink as they were approaching Ningpo. A semicircle of modular risers and seats had been set up near the base of Tyrannos Rex. In the middle of the seating was a raised dais with a podium, positioned so that the speaker would be just, and only just, above the eye level of most of the reporters. A silk SwordSworn banner was draped over the front of the podium, and a larger one was draped from a backdrop behind the speaker. Both were dwarfed by the Tyrannos Rex. with its gigantic version of the symbol looming over everything. Any symbols of The Republic were conspicuously absent.

The orientation of the seating was such that the reporters would be near, but not in, the shadow of the ship. It would be back-lit in a spectacular way that would show off its silver paint to best effect. It was what the press people like to call “good holo.” Aaron fully expected the image to be on almost every home Tri-Vid screen on the planet that night.

Even the reporters had been “ordered” after a fashion, press releases going out to all those news sources likely to be most favorable to the SwordSworns’ proposal, and to only a few who wouldn’t be friendly at all. A few hostile questions would place the Duke in a sympathetic light, while giving the whole thing a stamp of legitimacy.

Aaron stood just inside the Tyrannos Rex. looking through a small window of one-way glass at the jammed seats, and at the podium, which was surrounded by holocams and microphones. The window was located in a small security room off the grand lobby that was the formal entrance to the ship.

To his left was the “hole” Captain Clancy had complained so mightily about—a Greek revival entrance framed by two columns. A stairway and a red carpet led from the door to the podium. Some of the architectural elements were now permanently fixed to the ship’s hull. Others were built in the temporary shops that now filled much of the hold in bay number three, and had been attached after landing.

Aaron stepped into the entrance lobby, inspecting the grand stairway leading up to his quarters in bay number one, the wildly impractical crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling (and retracted into a padded garage for flight), the paintings on the walls. The effect, he hoped, was not one of hopeless luxury, but rather of classical elegance. The air was perfumed to hide the ever-present mechanical smells of the ship, and soft music issued from hidden speakers.

Aaron smiled. He felt confident, ready to face his public. He turned to Ulysses Paxton, who struck an imposing figure in his gray pin-striped suit and dark shades. “You did an excellent job preparing the news conference, Ulysses.”

Paxton frowned. “You realize this is a security nightmare, don’t you? As for the rest, you really need a press secretary.”

Deena Onan rushed down the stairs, took Aaron by the shoulders, and turned him so she could look. She straightened his collar, ran her fingers down the creases in his pants, and finally produced a handkerchief to polish a spot on his boots. Aaron looked at himself in the mirror, turning his head to inspect his topknot. “You’ve both done an outstanding job, you know—taking roles you were never hired for and doing them well. It will be rewarded.”

Deena glanced up at his face for a moment, and then went back to her preening. “I expect so,” was all she said.

“Ulysses, see what you can do about lining up some press-secretary candidates while we’re here. Quietly and discreetly, as always.”

“Certainly, Lord Governor. Assuming you survive the press conference.” He gestured at the door. “Shall we get this over with?”

Aaron grinned and they stepped out through the incongruously conventional-looking wood-paneled door, Paxton leading the way. Cameras turned toward him like fame-seeking missiles.

In the near distance, he could see the glass walls of the terminal building filled with curious onlookers. He waved. Amazingly, people surged forward. Children waved back. Most of them probably had not a clue who he was, but they wanted to know!

This is going to work. In my hand, this sword will win my war.

Paxton stepped up to the podium. “I present to you Duke Aaron Sandoval, Lord Governor of Prefecture IV.”

Aaron made a show of surveying the assembled crowd. He worked on projecting the impression that he cared about them, each and every one, as individuals. He had to reach them so that, by the time he brought his proposal to the Governor, to refuse it would seem like a betrayal to his people.

“People of Ningpo, I bring you greetings from Tikonov, the SwordSworn, and House Davion.” There was a murmur among the assembled as he said “SwordSworn,” which became much louder as he said “House Davion.” “I have come to your world with important matters to discuss with your Governor. I should not detail those matters until he and I have had time to discuss them privately.

“I will say, however, that I stand before you today to extend a hand of friendship and cooperation in a time of confusion and fear. The universe has been plunged into darkness, and there is much disorder and uncertainty. But I have come to tell you that there is still strength and stability in the stars—that there is still a sword that stands against aggression and tyranny.

“I have said we are SwordSworn, and this may puzzle some of you, anger you, even frighten you. You may wonder why I invoke the name of House Davion rather than that of The Republic. I remind you that I have served The Republic loyally for many years, and in many capacities, most recently as Lord Governor of Prefecture IV. I do not renounce this, nor do I regard those years with anything but pride.

“But our universe has changed, and—as the incursion of House Liao has shown us—without the HPG network, The Republic no longer serves us, no longer can keep us safe or free. In the current situation, the universe is too vast to maintain order. Terra is too distant to aid us. Even the regional governments are failing. My Prefecture remains strong, but to my great sadness, Prefecture VI has bowed to the Capellan aggressors, and sold out their people to the enemy. Your own Prefecture has known war, border raids, and uprisings at the best of times, and now stands on the brink of disaster.

“I have spoken with your current Lord Governor, and he has confessed his inability to keep the peace or to protect his worlds.” There was much whispering among the reporters. “You have heard the rumors, and they are true. Your leaders are weak. They have not betrayed you, but they have certainly, by their own admission, failed you. You know it to be so.

“During this emergency, we must seek present and immediate solutions for order and protection; for those solutions to have strength and longevity, we must turn back to the Great Houses.

“This is not betrayal. This is not treason. The Republic that I served, that we all served, has failed. It may succeed again someday, but first we must have order, we must have peace, we must have freedom from tyranny. I remind you that The Republic was built from worlds ceded by the Great Houses, and if order and communications are restored, that may happen again.

“But for now, we must choose what banner we follow, and we must not let history choose for us. I have chosen to pledge my SwordSworn to House Davion, not merely because it is the house of my forefathers, but because of its traditions of honor, integrity, and justice.

“The SwordSworn are strong, and we stand against the aggression of our common enemies. We stand between you and the tyranny and harsh rule you know you would suffer under the Capellans.

“We are strong. But together with your freely given aid, we could be stronger. I extend the hand of friendship, and the pledge to join you in our common defense. I pray that you will see the wisdom in taking that hand, before the freedom to choose is lost to House Liao aggression.”

He paused, again scanning the assembled press. “I will now take a few questions.” Hands rose, reporters called to him. He picked a woman whom his intelligence report told him worked for a major Tri-Vid network—one likely to value the appearance of objectivity. She might ask a difficult question, but she was unlikely to go on the offensive immediately.

She stood. “Lord Governor. Nina Wu, Interworld. What do you say to the recent rumors of your death?”

He tried to look mildly shocked. “Well, Nina, first just let me say that, to the best of my knowledge… those rumors are false.”

There was laughter, and the mood suddenly seemed to relax a bit.

Aaron allowed himself a smile—not at the joke, but at the question. That it hadn’t been about The Republic or the possibility of treason was telling. These people already had fundamental doubts about The Republic and their own Prefecture. He was only addressing their preexisting concerns.

Once the laughter died, he suppressed the smile, replacing it with a look of concern. He continued. “But in all seriousness, an attempt was made on my life—a cowardly act of sabotage, done in the name of House Liao. I survived only through the heroic actions of Captain Gus Clancy of the DropShip Tyrannos Rex. and especially those of my bodyguard and security chief, Mr. Ulysses Paxton.” Aaron turned and bowed his head toward Paxton.

Paxton smiled slightly, and Aaron held his bow for several beats. Let the cameras linger on Ulysses. Everyone loves a hero.

Then Aaron turned back to the crowd. “I speak from personal experience when I say that safety is an illusion. Peace is fragile and easily broken by men and women of ill will. Kiss your spouses, hug your children as though it were your last day, because you never know if it might be.”

He called on a young male reporter from a computer news service. “Lord Governor; Paul Yi of Uni-Page. There are rumors that you’ve changed your ship into some sort of luxurious flying palace. Comments?”

“Thank you for asking, Paul. I have indeed turned this fine ship into a flying home for myself and my staff. And if you mean ‘palace’ as in ‘seat of government,’ then yes, that’s what it is. With the fall of the HPG network, it is no longer practical to govern from a fixed capital. Not on far Terra, not even on Tikonov or Liao or New Canton.

“Tikonov is my place of birth, and my heart will always live there, but it would be both foolish and selfish for me to insist on living there. I have responsibilities to a growing family of worlds, not just one. So I have given up my home there to live in this home among the stars, to go where there is trouble. I want those under my protection to know that their home soil is also my home soil—that I care as deeply for their worlds as they do. With this great ship, I can go where the people need me, and do for them what must be done.”

He scanned the faces of the reporters. Time to take a hard one.

He recognized a face from his intelligence photos, and pointed at a balding man sitting near the back. “Duke Sandoval, Van Harding of Truth Magazine. You ask us to take the drastic step of abandoning The Republic, to trust you, and you suggest that you are only a servant of the people. Yet your ship is named Tyrannos Rex. Are you our friend, or just a would-be tyrant king?”

Aaron smiled. Exactly as Clancy had predicted. Smart man. “As you can tell from our arrival, I have been lucky enough to secure one of the finest ships, and the finest captains, in the Inner Sphere. This came to me ready-made, and for that, I am most fortunate.

“But the ship came with a name as well, and Captain Clancy informs me that it is highly unlucky to change a ship’s name. I owe the captain my life, and he has never steered me wrong in such matters. Therefore this ship is called what it is called, though the name is ironic. I come not to enforce tyranny, but to stand side by side with you against it!” He shook his fist in the air. “Death to tyrants! Long live House Davion!”

The guests arrived by limousine, motorcade, and, in one case, VTOL executive plane. Altogether, there were about twenty-five for dinner. The politicians were perhaps surprised to see some of the planet’s hottest holo and music stars in their midst, but the mysterious invitations, along with lavish gifts, had been arranged and sent to those celebrities as soon as Tyrannos Rex arrived in the Ningpo system.

Two by two they came, up the red carpet into the entrance hall, and there they waited under the light of the crystal chandelier. And waited.

Crisply uniformed waiters served fine champagne, and a string ensemble in the corner played selections from Bartow’s Symphony for Davion. There was adequate room for all to mingle and talk, though even a few more people might have crowded things a bit.

Aaron watched them on his security monitors and smiled. “Anticipation,” he said to Paxton, “is as powerful an intoxicant as the fruit of the vine.”

The little room, the nerve center of Paxton’s security network, was located in what had come to be called “backstage”—the more functional part of the complex-within-a-ship that Aaron was building. This area included the kitchens, storage areas, some of the servants’ quarters, and a war room where Aaron could work with his senior advisors to oversee his three interlocking empires: political, business, and military.

Per Paxton’s suggestion, the plans had also just been amended to include a press room, where his staff could both monitor and feed the press of any planet they were visiting. It would include a small holostudio where Aaron could record or broadcast his own speeches and announcements.

Paxton nodded. “And it gives the workers a few more frantic minutes in which to tie up loose ends.”

“Well, that, too.” While the transformation of Tyrannos Rex was remarkable, it was far from complete. The carpenters, craftsmen, decorators, and shipwrights he had hired had labored through the journey—and quietly since their landing—to get as much ready as possible.

Yet a great deal of what would be seen was just for show. Many rooms were represented only as rough metal frameworks into which walls and ceilings would later be built. There were doors that opened to nowhere, and Aaron had instructed that the locks be double-checked, lest some curiosity-seeker accidentally plunge into a darkened cargo bay.

He hoped that what his guests did see would be perfect, and would provide the illusion that the rest of his quarters were finished as well. As with a Tri-Vid set, the object was to show what needed to be shown, and allow the mind to fill in the rest.

The door opened and Deena Onan entered, looking lovely in an emerald gown that shimmered when it moved, and which provocatively bared one shoulder. Her auburn hair was braided and piled on top of her head.

Paxton looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “How often do I actually get to dress myself up? It’s a treat.”

Aaron ignored their banter. “The progress report, Deena?”

“The workers have cleared out of the finished areas. I’m having the maids make a last sweep to be sure everything is clean and that the workers haven’t missed any details. The parlor off the main ballroom is ready to use, and I’m even told that you should be able to sleep in your new bedroom tonight.”

Aaron frowned. “That wasn’t supposed to be a priority. None of the guests are going to see my bedroom.”

Deena grinned slightly. “Really, my Lord, you should be more optimistic. Anyway,” she continued, “the chef is complaining that the kitchen is a kludge—inadequate—and dinner is ruined. Never mind what he says. I’ve tasted the soup, and I’ve now found something better than sex.”

“Well, then,” said Aaron, “I will at least have that to look forward to.” He looked back at the screens. “I suppose it’s time, then.” He turned to Deena and came to attention. “I present myself for inspection.”

She scanned him from the shoes up. “I can’t improve upon perfection, Lord Governor.”

“Well, then, let’s go win ourselves a world.”

He made a dramatic entrance at the top of the stairs, gave a little speech of welcome, and then led his guests up and into the main part of his quarters.

The grand hall was wide and opulently furnished with antiques, tapestries, and paintings by modern masters. Many of these furnishings were recognizable from the Chipley Arms. He’d liked the hotel’s style so much, he’d ultimately decided to strip three suites and a mezzanine before leaving.

The grand hall was an important part of the illusion. It allowed a clear view from the top of the stairs to the far wall of the ballroom—nearly the whole length of the cargo bay—making the quarters seem vast. In fact, it was little more than a hallway at this point, with most of the doors leading to unfinished space, or to rooms too unfinished or not yet fine enough for public viewing.

A few doors were simply facades, nearly flush against hidden bulkheads or the outside hull. A door suggested a space beyond, even if it was permanently screwed shut. One of the designers Aaron had hired had a background in amusement-park attractions, and had proved to be an excellent asset.

As they arrived in the ballroom, the formal dining room could be seen through sliding pocket doors to one side, the long table set with fine silver and china. The centerpiece was a three-dimensional version of the SwordSworn shield, carved from ice, and surrounded by fresh flowers.

Before dinner there was more champagne, and hors d’oeuvres on silver platters. A soloist played the viola while the rest of the musicians were moved upstairs. A blond, waifish Tri-Vid starlet abandoned her companion and began flirting with Aaron, who found himself flirting back.

Aaron spoke with the Governor, of course, but merely to greet him and his wife, and to exchange a few social pleasantries. He made a point of paying no more attention to him than any other guest. For now, he wanted to draw the focus away from business, and make the Governor forget Aaron had arrived not just with a ship, but with an agenda.

The meal, as Deena had predicted, was excellent and well received. The finishing touch was a flaming ice dessert made with sweet cream, native Ningpo fruits, and eggs, in a crisp pastry shell.

It was over coffee afterward that the first discussion of the SwordSworn coalition took place. As Aaron had hoped, Governor Xiao was the one to bring it up. “Lord Governor, as charming and impressive as this evening has been, I’m afraid I can’t offer you what you want in return.”

“A gracious host expects nothing of his guests but the pleasure of their company, Governor. Whatever could you be talking about?”

“I know you’ve come hoping I’ll commit the Ningpo military to some sort of joint action against the House Liao incursions. I don’t see how I can justify such a thing to my people. We’re already allowing your forces to use our jump points, and I have reservations about that.

“Frankly, it’s the only reason I can imagine House Liao would even bother us. I’m not sure we can afford the risk any longer. It’s quite true what you’ve said about our Lord Governor. I don’t think we can depend on him for protection from House Liao, but that assumes we need protection. There are many people here tonight who believe—and I’m inclined to agree—that expelling you from our system and seeking a nonaggression pact with them would be our best course of action.”

Aaron sipped his coffee thoughtfully. In truth, Ningpo’s military might was minimal, the planet poor in strategic resources. The only really useful thing about it was its location.

“Governor, I do understand your position, and I appreciate your being so forthright about your opinions. I think, however, you should consider all the facts.

“First, no matter what these fine people here tonight may believe, I think the majority of your people are quite concerned about the possibility of living under Capellan rule. Ultimately, you are only valuable to House Liao so long as you have the backing of your people. If you do not, you’ll be of no use to them, and you will be replaced.

“Second, I’m not seeking military assistance, though it is always welcome. I would like to continue our current agreements for the use of your jump points and, in addition, I would like to use your system as an advance staging area for my forces. As such, Ningpo would enjoy our full military protection, and reap indirect economic benefits as well: My troops will need R and R, and, I assure you, they’re well paid and would be eager to spend their money on such a beautiful world.”

The Governor shook his head and smiled. “Really, what you’re proposing is to turn us into an irresistible target for Liao.”

Aaron suddenly turned to the starlet. “My dear, what do you think?”

She seemed shocked to be drawn into such a serious discussion, and Aaron wondered for a moment if she’d even been listening. She blinked. “Well,” she finally said, “I think war is bad.”

Aaron nodded appreciatively. “As do we all. And yet war is a fact; it’s already happening.”

Her wide blue eyes looked at Aaron. “Not on Ningpo.”

Aaron held his hand out toward her. “Exactly! The people of Ningpo do not want war to come to their world. And I’m sure you’d agree, my dear, this is exactly what the Governor has in mind.”

She looked at the Governor as though she’d just noticed he was there. “I suppose.”

“But the question everyone will be asking themselves tomorrow will be: Is this the best way to go about it? What do you think?”

She shrugged. “If they’ll agree to leave us alone, that would be good.”

Aaron nodded. “I’m rather certain they will. So that settles it.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

The starlet beamed.

“There’s just one thing,” said Aaron. “Can you trust them?”

The starlet’s smile faded, and she looked questioningly at the Governor.

The Governor looked slightly annoyed, yet Aaron was sure the man was imagining millions of his constituents asking just the same question.

He turned back to Aaron. “As I said, unless they have some reason to attack us, I just can’t see why they would lie.”

Aaron uncrossed his arms and leaned forward wearing his best poker face. “If the Ningpo system would make a good staging area for my forces, it would be just as useful for Liao’s forces moving in the other direction. And if they should realize this as well, do you suppose they’ll ask permission, as I have?”

“I think they would.”

“You trust them then?”

“Yes!”

“What about Shensi?”

“What about it?”

“You knew the Shensi government was negotiating a pact with House Liao?”

The Governor looked uncomfortable, obviously wondering if this was a verbal trap. Aaron knew there was political backchatter between the two governors, and Xiao had likely known of the negotiations long before the SwordSworn had. “I’d heard something of the sort might be in the works.”

“I’d heard things had progressed well beyond that. Which leaves one wondering how to explain the Liao attack on Shensi.”

This caught the Governor totally off guard.

Aaron was secretly pleased. With the HPG network down, it was difficult to predict how rapidly news could travel from one system to another. Aaron’s intelligence people could only provide a “latest possible” time, when a scheduled freight shipment from Shensi was to arrive in the system. He had hoped the news would wait till then, and apparently it had.

“Attack? What attack?”

“Just before our jump here, we received word that an unprovoked aerospace attack was made on the capital city and various strategic targets around the planet. The news was sketchy, but we assumed your intelligence people had already heard.”

Now the Governor looked flustered; his face reddened. “Is this a joke, Lord Governor? We’ve heard no such thing. If this is a cheap deception to secure my cooperation, I’m neither impressed nor amused!”

“I assure you, Governor, it’s no joke. Frankly, I was hoping you might have additional news, as a member of my family, Commander Erik Sandoval-Groell, was last known to be at the Shensi capital, trying to salvage the political situation there. I’ve had no word from him.” He looked down, chewed his lip for a pregnant moment. “I fear the worst.”

The starlet gave him a sympathetic look and he felt the soft skin of her hand as it rubbed the top of his. He gave her an appreciative glance, then looked back at the Governor.

Actually, he was looking past the Governor, at a strategically placed clock on the wall behind him. By his estimate, the scheduled ship should have jumped into the Ningpo system approximately seventy minutes before. It was an event that the entire evening’s festivities had been timed around. The light-speed delay for a radio message traveling from the jump point to Ningpo was about fifty-three minutes. Assuming the attack had gone as planned, and Aaron was only assuming that it had, word should have reached the planet by now. The question was how long it would take to filter through channels to the president’s ear.

Aaron sat silently for perhaps thirty seconds.

The Governor leaned over and whispered something to his wife.

The starlet leaned closer, putting her other hand on Aaron’s shoulder.

One of the Governor’s aides slipped into the room, a grave expression on his face. He leaned over the Governor and whispered in his ear.

As he watched the Governor’s reaction, it took all of Aaron’s self-control and acting skills to keep from breaking into a broad smile of victory.

“Lord Governor, I regret to inform you that I’ve just received confirmation of the surprise attack on Shensi. Mercenary forces employed by House Liao have been implicated. I’m afraid we don’t have any specific word about Commander Sandoval, but the Capitol Building itself was a target, and there are many casualties. My sympathies.”

Aaron nodded. “Of course, Governor. Thank you. For now, I must hope for the best.”

The Governor nodded. “Perhaps it would be better if we discussed your proposal tomorrow. This is a stressful time.”

“No, Governor. If family blood has been spilled in this matter, I will feel better knowing it was not spilled in vain. I have the papers in my drawing room, if you’d care to accompany me.”

Aaron stood at the top of the entry stairs, watching the final guests depart. The Governor had signed his agreement. It would need to be ratified by the planetary council, but an emergency session had been scheduled for first thing the following morning. Debate was expected to be minimal.

He was only a little surprised when he felt a soft, small body press against his back. “Lord Governor?”

He turned and looked into the starlet’s eyes. “What about your companion?”

She smiled. “He was just some flavor-of-the-week the production company sent along. It was supposed to help his career. Maybe it did, but he left early.”

“How unfortunate. Will you be needing a ride?”

She leaned into him. “Maybe later.”

He carried her through the door, paused, and looked around to find the big oval canopy bed against the wall to his left. He dropped her on the bed playfully and fell down next to her. He glanced at the open window and wondered if they should close the drapes. Then he realized sheepishly that it was only a holoprojection—the skyline view taken from a camera outside the ship.

She laughed and touched his face. “Aaron, you’d think you’d never seen your own bedroom before.”

He smiled. “You’d think.”

The starlet snored softly, though pleasantly. It reminded Aaron of a cat he’d once had.

He felt good, and why shouldn’t he? Diplomatic victory, and its rewards, were his. Yet he couldn’t sleep.

Why? Not the snoring; even the sounds of battle had never kept Aaron awake when he determined it was time to rest. He had no worries about tomorrow’s council session. What then?

The bed seemed very large, even with two people in it. The sheets were satin and gently perfumed. The room was lovely—everything he had hoped for.

He thought of Shensi.

He slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to wake his sleeping companion. He checked the closet, and found that Deena had already moved his clothing in—both the small amount that had fit in his old quarters, and the rest, which had been stored in an adjacent cabin. He selected a silk robe, embroidered above the pocket with the SwordSworn shield, and a pair of leather slippers.

He left the room quietly and wandered down the hall, through a butler’s pantry, and out through a rear door that took him into the ship proper. He felt better, seeing the gray metal walls and exposed pipes. The show was over now. It was good to be backstage.

He startled a maintenance crewman working the late shift, as he shuffled past and found the door to his old quarters. Gratefully, he found it hadn’t been reassigned. His name was still on the placard above the number. He punched in the lock code and slipped inside.

The bunk had been made with standard ship’s-issue sheets, coarse and common. There was a single foam pillow; the mattress was hard. He took off his robe, hung it on the hook on the wall. He slipped under the sheets and put his head on the pillow.

Almost immediately, he was asleep.