Alarm of War, Book II: The Other Side of Fear (5 page)

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Queen Anne answered.

“And that’s how we will get him,” Sir Henry said with satisfaction.

* * * *

They were walking now to give the horses a rest.  The trees to either side were one hundred feet tall with small waxed leaves that fluttered in the slightest breeze, giving the impression of ocean waves moving majestically through the tree canopy above them. Emily stopped for a minute and just watched.  She could see the wind waves undulating through the trees from far down the mountain.  It was strangely soothing. 

“What do you call these trees, Raf?” she asked as the trees swayed and fluttered above them.

Rafael stopped and looked up into the tree canopy.  “The locals in these mountains call them
shatah mallah
,
which roughly translates as ‘Dances with God.’  However, based upon my higher education and years of experience, I would classify these particular trees as ‘tall,’ perhaps even belonging to the specie of ‘very tall,’” he said solemnly.   “And
green
as well.” 

Emily reached over and patted Rosie’s neck.  “You know, old girl, I think this is going to be a very
long
week,” she said in a loud whisper.

And a mile or so later: “What was it like growing up in the mountains?” she asked.

He glanced at her.  “You really want to know?”

She nodded.  And the fact was, she really did.  It was not a question she was asking because Admiral Douthat needed information, she was genuinely curious.  And she enjoyed talking with Rafael.

He walked for another minute or two in silence before he replied.   There was no jesting this time, no laughter.  “It was wonderful and terrible, full of breathtaking beauty I didn’t really appreciate until I came back from the Academy.  I was a child here, yes?  I left and came back as a man, seeing this place for the first time with a man’s eyes.  And I saw the beauty, but with it I saw the constant danger.” 

* * * *

              Queen Anne eyed Michael Hudis with the same intense loathing she would a rabid dog, but her face was carefully neutral. Her mother had taught her that at a young age. The lesson had been harsh.  Twelve-year-old Anne had sat with her mother at Court when an elderly woman came to plead for her son’s life.  He had killed a man, but the elderly mother begged for a reprieve because he was her only source of support in her advanced years.  Anne’s heart had gone out to the old woman and she looked beseechingly at Queen Beatrice.  Beatrice had seen the old woman’s shrewd appraisal of Anne’s sympathy and the way she subtly focused her plea on Anne rather than on the Queen, herself.  Beatrice had interrupted the session and without a word strode to her private office.  Once inside, Queen Beatrice shut the door, turned to Anne and coolly slapped her across the face.

“One day you will be Queen,” her mother had told her.  “Your subjects will come from all over Victoria to seek your favor.  But they will not come out of loyalty, friendship or selflessness.”  She slapped Anne again.  “They will come because they want something from you.  Do you understand, Anne?”

Anne’s face stung and flamed under the slaps, but she held her ground, glaring furiously at her mother.   Queen Beatrice stared back at her.  “Anne, you will have to deal with subjects, with your advisors, with people who support you or people whose support you need.  All of them will want something from you.  And all of them will watch you.  They will watch you like you were a snake that might bite them or a lover who might embrace them.  But they will watch you like you have never been watched before, hoping for a sign of sympathy, of fear, of indecision.  And whatever emotion they see in your face, they will use to their own benefit.

“So
this
is your lesson, Anne Radcliff Mendoza Churchill, and learn it well:  A ruler never shows emotion unless she
chooses
to, and then only for a good reason.  To reveal emotion in public without a purpose reflects either immaturity or a singular lack of self-discipline, either of which is more dangerous to you than a knife or a gun or a bomb.”

Queen Beatrice had sighed then, looking at her furious daughter.  “You are angry with me.  Your cheeks are red, your pupils are closed down to little spots, and your mouth is sullen.  All these are signs an enemy can read.  So now, close your eyes and empty your face of emotion. Take your emotion and lock it away so that your face reveals nothing to your friends or your foes, because both will try to use you if you let them.”

Anne had fled the room, angry tears burning down her cheeks.  But the lessons continued unrelentingly.  Finally, when Anne was fifteen, Queen Beatrice slapped her yet again without warning.  Anne broke into a radiant smile and said in a calm, even voice, “Good morning Mother, it is a
fine
day, is it not?”  And her mother, Queen of Victoria, looked at her shrewdly, and then nodded in approval. 

The old lessons were much in her mind as she watched the Dominion envoy walk towards her.  They’d emptied a conference room and put in thicker carpet, wall hangings with scenes from Victoria’s history, and at the end of the room an oversized chair on a raised dais.  There were no other chairs in the room, so the envoy from the Dominion of Unified Citizenry would stand.

“Welcome to the
Wellington,
Ambassador,” she said.  She spoke only to Hudis.  The others with him were minions and on this day she would waste neither time nor courtesy on them.

Hudis bowed slightly from the waist.  “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Majesty, though I regret that I have given you the misimpression of being an ambassador.  My role is…”

“I know your role,” Queen Anne said coolly.  “You are not an ambassador and you are certainly no diplomat.  What you are, Mr. Hudis, is the Citizen Director’s personal henchman.  Your role is to be your master’s thug.  In another time and place, you would break kneecaps for a living, but fate has decreed that our paths must cross here, Mr. Hudis, so I call you ‘Ambassador’ to allow me the pretext that I am dealing with an honorable nation.  I beg you to indulge me in this minor self-delusion.”  

Hudis stared at her coldly.  She stared back. 

“I trust we can dispense with the diplomatic niceties today, Mr. Hudis, since you invaded Victoria without provocation, used nuclear weapons on a planetary target in violation of the Darwin Accords and killed hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians, to say nothing of Queen Beatrice.”  Pink dots had appeared on her cheeks and she glared at him.  She visibly struggled to control herself.

“I am sure you have a message from your master, Mr. Hudis,” she continued after a moment.  “What is it?”

Hudis smiled inwardly.  This was excellent.  She was angry.  Very angry.  But of course she was young and did not know better.  And where there is anger, there is often fear as well, and sometimes in the heat of the moment people blurted out things they should not. He thought for a moment on how he could use this, then spoke.  “Your Majesty, I am here to try to put a stop to the bloodshed between our worlds.  The People of the Dominion of Unified Citizenry regret the level of hardship that has fallen upon you-“

“Sanctimony does not become you,” Anne said through gritted teeth.  “I would ask you one more time to get to the point or this meeting is finished.”

Hudis bowed his head.  “Of course, Majesty.  Citizen Director Nasto has authorized me to tell you that the Dominion of Unified Citizenry will cease active hostilities against you if you scuttle your warships, release the Atlas space station to the Dominion and pledge to remain within the Refuge System.  No harm will come to you or your citizens, on the Citizen Director’s honor.”  
Let her chew on that
, he thought with satisfaction.

Queen Anne stared at him for a long moment.  Part of her was incredulous at the audacity of  his proposal, part of her was bemused.

“It is perhaps a good thing that you are not a diplomat, Mr. Hudis, for you do not have the skills for it,” she said at last.  From the side of the room, Hiram was trying to watch everyone at once, his eyes darting from the Queen to Sir Henry to Hudis and back again.  Hudis, he saw, took not the slightest offense at her words or her tone.  Hudis didn’t care, Hiram realized.  He was not here to reach a truce.

“Let me be blunt, Your Majesty,” Hudis replied.  “You have lost.  Victoria has lost.  We – the Dominion – now occupy Cornwall.  We control access to Christchurch and will occupy it in due course.  You are cornered here in Refuge.  Your fleet is badly damaged.  Even with the Atlas space station you cannot build a new fleet in time to prevent us from entering Refuge and destroying you.”

Anne stared at him, eyes bulging, breath coming in short gasps.   She raised a hand to her mouth, and then lowered it trembling to her lap.  When she spoke her voice shook. “You may have destroyed our battleships, Mr. Hudis, but I fear you greatly overestimate your own forces and underestimate ours.  Even now Atlas is producing a battleship a week.  And our remaining Fleet ships will soon be repaired, including this one.  You may have caught us unawares once, sir, but even with that advantage you were not able to destroy us.”

Hudis inwardly smirked.  She had overplayed her hand.  Her claim that Atlas could build a battleship every week was preposterous.  Was she trying to hide something?  Could Atlas have been damaged during the fighting?  And the tidbit about the Fleet ships being repaired?  Perhaps the Victorians were hurt even worse than had been reported. Had
all
of the Vicky battleships been destroyed? Perhaps, just perhaps, the Dominion forces should attack now rather than wait four months until Siegestor had produced another Battle Fleet. 

“Your Majesty,” he said evenly.  “We have a large fleet and the ability to produce more ships than you can.  If you resist, we will simply invade Refuge and all these good people who have given you shelter will die, all because of your willfulness.”

Queen Anne squirmed for a moment in her chair, glancing at Sir Henry as if for support.  “Do not think you are invulnerable, Mr. Hudis.   We are familiar with your Might of the People Ship Works.  It is a very old design, isn’t it? Not very well armored, if I recall.  If we destroy it, I think the Dominion would not be able to build another for years and years.  Do not threaten us, Mr. Hudis.”  She paused, fingers twisting together nervously in her lap.  “You offer us a truce, but demand that we disarm. We would be helpless. What guarantee do we have that you would keep your word?”

Hudis was elated.  She wanted guarantees!  Queen Anne was willing to consider even disarming her fleet.  My God, she really is a foolish child!  And then her other statement sunk in.  He grinned inwardly; the Victorians knew
nothing
about the Dominion’s second shipyard at
Siegestor.  That revelation alone made this entire meeting worthwhile.

“Your Majesty, what sort of guarantees would you wish?” he asked skeptically.

Anne looked again at Sir Henry.  Sir Henry said, “At a minimum we would want a peacekeeping force from Darwin in the Refuge Sector to ensure the peace.  We also want guarantees that civilians on Cornwall will not be harmed or abused in any way.”

Hudis made a show of considering this.  “Your Majesty, this is of course far above my authority to grant or deny.  I can tell you that while the Citizen Director has no interest in harming any civilians on Cornwall, he would not take kindly to the idea of a Darwin peacekeeping force patrolling within the sovereign space of the Dominion.”

“It is not Dominion sovereign space, sir,” Anne hissed.  “It is Victorian!”

Hudis stared at her impassively.  “No, Majesty, it
was
Victorian, but now it is a part of the Dominion of Unified Citizenry.  This is a fact, Majesty, and it will not change in your lifetime.”  He bowed again, this time only slightly.  “I will take your requests to the Citizen Director and report back to you in due course, Majesty.  In the meantime, if you value the well-being of your former subjects on Cornwall and Christchurch, I strongly recommend that you refrain from any hostile actions while the parameters of a final truce are being resolved.”  With that, he turned and strode from the chamber.  As he reached the door, Queen Anne shot to her feet.

“Guarantees!” she shouted in a shrill voice.  “Do you hear me, Hudis?  I
must
have guarantees that my people will be kept safe!”

Hudis left without acknowledging her.  In the corridor no one saw the smile tugging at his lips.

Once Hudis was out of sight, Queen Anne sat down in her chair and casually crossed her legs.  Her hands were on the arm rests, one finger tapping out a slow, thoughtful rhythm.  Her face was expressionless.  Hiram glanced from the Queen to Sir Henry and back again.

“Well,” said Sir Henry, nodding to himself.  “I think that went rather well.”

“Yes,” Anne agreed evenly.  “I think it did.”

* * * *

              When he arrived back at his room, Hiram found someone waiting in the corridor.  He was dressed in the deep royal blue of Fleet Marines and wore the insignia of a Colonel.  He was short, barrel-chested and had the weathered face of someone who has spent most of his life outdoors.

“May I help you?” Hiram asked, more than a little curious.