Authors: Christopher Nuttall
He frowned as he caught sight of a demonstration outside Luna House and altered his course to evade it. A quick scan of the local news while he was on the tube had told him that the Humanists were holding a protest against the internment of alien refugees on the colony worlds, demanding that they be allowed to return to their homeworlds at once or be granted citizenship on human worlds. The former was often impossible – the Dragons had badly damaged most of the worlds they had occupied – while the latter would not go down well with the colonials who lived there.
They
wanted to be rid of the aliens as soon as possible.
Earth doesn't have a large alien population
, he thought, as he reached the hotel.
They have no idea what it might mean to grant those alien refugees the vote
.
The hotel’s security staff examined him thoroughly, then escorted him into the elevator and guided him to the tenth floor. Glen rolled his eyes; his brothers had always been a little paranoid, not without reason. They had enemies who might happily spy on their talks in hopes of snatching a brief advantage – or maybe even try to assassinate them. Given how many problems Knight Corporation had had when Glen’s father had died, it would surely seem a worthwhile gamble. And none of the next generation of the family were ready to take the helm.
There was a second check when he stepped out of the elevator. Glen waited impatiently – one of the reasons the Grand Hotel was so expensive was that private security teams were allowed to take over entire floors for themselves – until they were done, then rolled his eyes as his brother’s secretary opened the door and announced him as grandly as if he were being presented to a king. His brothers were powerful, Glen knew, but they were far from all-powerful. If they disagreed on something major, it could easily rip the corporation apart.
“Glen,” Theodore Knight said. He was tall and thin, with gimlet eyes and a willingness to do whatever it took to keep the corporation going. “Welcome.”
Glen nodded. His elder brother had always talked as though he had a stick up his ass and it was too much to expect him to have changed, even though they hadn't seen each other for three years. The war had taken him away from Earth, after all. No doubt the family's influence could have pushed him into a nice safe posting at the rear, but Glen hadn't wanted to ask for anything. He'd spent too long trying to escape his family.
“Glen,” David Knight said. He looked like a fatter clone of Theodore, his elder brother. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you,” Glen said, not entirely untruthfully. David had no imagination, but he did have a mind like a steel trap and an eye for spotting places where savings could be made. Glen had once called him a natural-born bureaucrat and David had thought it a compliment. “I trust that you had a pleasant flight?”
His elder brothers nodded in unison. They had a whole fleet of personal starships; if necessary, they could have bankrolled a small military force out of pocket change. It wouldn't have been difficult for them to reach Luna; indeed, the fact that both of them had come suggested that this was quite important to the family. Glen felt a chill running down his spine. They might just have thought they were doing him a favour by leaning on the Admiral so that Glen would be promoted, but their presence here suggested a deeper motive.
“I’m glad to see it,” Glen said. He sat down and crossed his legs. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time before I have to board my new command, so ...”
“We’ll get right to the point,” Theodore said, gruffly. “It is time for you to do your duty by the family.”
Glen scowled at his brother’s pompous tone. He'd been four years old when their father had died, which had largely excluded him from the desperate struggle to prevent Knight Corporation from fragmenting. But he’d found their quiet talks boring; going into the Navy had seemed the perfect way to evade a corporate desk job for himself. And besides, it was good for the family’s reputation to have a young man on the front lines.
“You don't need me,” he said, feeling a hint of the old sullenness that had always pervaded his relationship with his elder brother. Theodore had tried to take their father’s place and hadn't entirely succeeded. “There isn't anything I can get you that you can't get for yourself.”
Theodore took a long breath. “It was the family's wealth and influence that ensured that you were accepted into the Luna Academy,” he said. “It was the family’s wealth and influence that smoothed your path to higher rank. It was the family’s ...”
“I
know
,” Glen snapped, feeling like an angry teenager again. “And so does everyone else.”
His brothers had insisted that he go into the Luna Academy – there was no way they would let him be an ordinary crewman – but he’d hoped that he’d passed the exams on his own. The illusion had only been dispelled when he’d glanced at his own file, which had made it clear that he hadn't reached the score required to enter without outside patrons. And, now that he’d been given a heavy cruiser with almost no command experience at all, people would
know
that he had patrons.
“And you must serve the family’s interests in response,” Theodore continued, relentlessly. “We did not pull the strings to assign you to the Fairfax Cluster out of the goodness of our own hearts.”
“Of course not,” Glen said, rudely. “If you had any goodness in your heart, you had it cut out of you long ago.”
Theodore ignored the jibe. “You are aware, no doubt, that the colonials are attempting to make their semi-independence stick,” he said, roughly. “We cannot allow them to declare independence and leave the Federation.”
“What Ted is trying to say,” David injected helpfully, “is that we have strong interests in preventing the colonials from declaring independence.”
Glen looked from one brother to the other, then met Theodore’s eyes. “Why do you care?”
“That is remarkably naive of you,” Theodore sneered. “There is a vast amount of money bound up in the colonies – and not just those behind the Great Wall. Should they start declaring independence, that money will vanish into nothingness. The domino effect will then damage hundreds of corporations, including ours.”
“I see,” Glen said, slowly.
Knight Corporation wasn't the biggest corporation in the Federation, but it had interests everywhere, primarily concentrated in shipbuilding and shipping, heavy industries and colonial settlement. Theodore was a pain in the ass, yet Glen had to admit that his brother had managed to save the corporation and then expand its facilities to supply the Federation’s war machine with everything from starships to energy cells for hand pistols. But now that the war was over, those contracts were threatening to dry up.
No
, he thought.
They will be drying up
.
“There will be a general election in a year,” Theodore continued, his tone returning to normal. “If the Colonials become independent, it will certainly give the Nationalist Faction a boost and do untold damage to the Federalists, perhaps even the Conservatives. We must do whatever we can to prevent that from taking place.”
Glen tried to have as little to do with politics as he could, but he understood what his brother was saying. The Federation was not a homogenous entity. A large number of worlds, even small colonies, declaring independence would threaten the integrity of the entire union. The larger multi-star political groupings might be tempted to follow in their footsteps, placing their interests ahead of humanity as a whole. It had been those interests that had prevented a robust response to the Dragons when they had started their provocations along the border, back before the war had begun.
And if that happened, he asked himself, what would happen to Knight Corporation?
It was difficult to say. If the Federation collapsed completely, the corporation – and most of the other interstellar corporations – would certainly be badly damaged, if their properties weren't seized by the nationalist states and put to use elsewhere. Even if there were no further departures from the Federation, there would still be a staggering amount of money vanishing into thin air. He could understand, even though he didn't want to admit it, why Theodore was so concerned. But his brothers had to understand that there were limits.
“I’m a Captain, commander of a single starship,” he said, keeping his voice level. “What – exactly – do you expect me to do about this situation?”
There was a knock at the door. It opened to reveal a young woman pushing a trolley in front of her. Glen felt his stomach rumble as he smelt food, although he had never quite seen the appeal in the expensive foodstuffs his brothers devoured. It was a display of conspicuous consumption that had bothered him even before he’d visited worlds that were literally starving to death, thanks to the Dragons. The woman carefully unloaded the trolley onto the table – her short skirt revealed that she was wearing no underwear – and then departed as soundlessly as she’d come.
Glen rolled his eyes as the door closed behind her. Theodore had no interest in his life, apart from the acquisition and wielding of corporate power; David simply didn't have the imagination to be interested in anyone other than his wife. Both brothers ignored the food, choosing instead to talk to the youngest brother. Glen stood, walked over to the table, and took a slice of bread and meat. It would probably have upset them to realise that something very similar could be bought for under a dollar or two, only a few metres from the hotel.
“The Governor – who will be travelling on your starship – is one of our placemen,” Theodore informed him. His gaze followed Glen as he filled his plate. “Chandra Wu has a long career behind her, one where she has satisfied both the demands of her posts and those of her patrons. We expect that she will succeed in bringing the colonials back into the fold.”
And obtain plenty of contracts for Knight Corporation as well
, Glen thought, cynically. The people who went to the new colony worlds were often very poor, but the colonies themselves were quite solid investments. It was rare for a colony mission to actually fail. The ones that did often hadn't had a proper development corporation behind them. And yet ... most of the colonies on the other side of the Great Wall had had only limited investment. There might be fewer pickings for Knight Corporation than Theodore had assumed.
“I see,” he said, simply.
He wasn't sure how he felt about it. His brothers had interfered in his life again, interfered so blatantly that he couldn't tell himself that he'd deserved his promotion. But command of a heavy cruiser at such a young age ... his career was made, as long as he didn't screw up too badly. And besides, he
was
loyal to the Federation. Semi-independent states were one thing, but humanity’s unity was too important to allow the colonials to tear it apart. That lack of unity explained why the early stages of the war had gone so badly.
“We want you to assist her as much as possible,” David explained. “If she makes a decree, as laid down in the laws governing her position, you are to support it and uphold it and whatever else you have to do.
That
is your sole priority.”
“My
first
priority is the safety of my ship and her crew,” Glen snapped. Both of his brothers looked politely uncomprehending. “I will not endanger them purely to suit your agenda.”
“You will do as the family requires,” Theodore snapped back, with equal force. “
That
is your first priority.”
“You are not being asked to endanger your crew,” David said, trying to pour oil on troubled waters. “We just require you to support our agenda.”
“I will do as I see fit,” Glen informed them. “But like I said, my ship comes first.”
“Acceptable,” Theodore said, after a brief glance at David. It was considered rude to use implants to talk secretly when others were in the same room, but neither of them had to care about what others considered to be rude. “If you will take this file ...”
Glen’s implants reported that Theodore’s implants were opening a channel. He accepted the file, waited for his implants to scan it for viruses and other unpleasant surprises, then opened the file and scanned the headings. It was a biography of Governor Chandra Wu and her staff, all of whom were apparently loyal to her – and to her political patrons. The Governor looked to have modified her face to reflect strength and determination, combined with a certain vulnerability that would appeal to men. Glen suspected, just looking at the picture, that they would not get on. There was something inherently dishonest in modifying one’s face for political purposes.