NASTRAGULL: Pirates (21 page)

Marshal Hornet shook his head slowly, his fingers drumming on the desktop. After a long moment, he waved his hand and ordered, "Inspector, leave us."

When they were alone, Admiral Cook continued, "Guss, we don't even know what clan took them—and for all we know, they may be already be dead or sold off. In the latter case, it's only a matter of time before a Dealer finds them and buys them back."

"That process can take years of negotiation," Hornet replied in a tired voice. "Besides, Admiral, we know exactly who took them. There were survivors." He gestured toward the fireplace.

For the first time since Admiral Cook had entered the Marshal's office, he paid attention to the other people in the room. He recognized most of the men and women as high officials in the Nastasturus government, Federal Police, Commissioned Traders, and so forth. Cook's eyes stopped on two uniformed military officers who stood at ease beside the fire, conducting a quiet conversation. As he watched, the younger of the two glanced out the window and laughed. The other man nudged him, and they immediately stood stiffly at attention. When the Marshal beckoned to them, they marched in unison up to the desk and threw perfect salutes. Cook returned them perfunctorily, as did the Marshal.

Hornet made the introductions. "Admiral Hadrian Cook, you know our cousin, Major Thore Nesbit. With him is officer cadet Andrew Bow." Both young men stared straight ahead, still standing at attention.

Admiral Cook looked at them suspiciously. "The two of you got away?"

In unison they answered, "Yes, Admiral!"

"During the attack, I take it?"

Cook noticed that Bow glanced nervously at the Major, who replied loudly, "No, Admiral! We escaped after being held prisoner for three weeks, sir!"

Cook glared at Nesbit; he didn't care for the man, relative or not. Perhaps it was because of his naked ambition, or his popularity among both the military and the masses. Maybe it was because of his good looks; a man had no right to look so beautiful, or to be built so perfectly. Perhaps it was because of his stated sexual preferences; Cook had no doubt that the boy with Nesbit was his current catamite. None of those things cut any ice with Hadrian Cook; despite Nesbit's beautiful face and perfect body, Cook knew that he was looking into the eyes of an experienced killer...or worse, a murderer.

Cook turned slowly towards the Marshal and hissed through clenched teeth, "Everyone. Leave us."

No one moved except for Major Nesbit and Cadet Bow, who looked at each other questioningly.

"Leave us!" shouted Admiral Cook, as he stared at his superior officer.

This time it worked. With the exception of the two young officers, no one waited for the Marshal's consent; they scuttled out the exit and were gone. Nesbit and Bow remained, uncertain of what to do, until Hornet nodded towards the door. They saluted sharply, turned around, and walked quickly out the door, the sound of their boot heels echoing down the hall.

The atmosphere was taut with emotion as the two officers stared at each other. Finally, Admiral Hadrian Cook af Hornet spoke. "I warned you that something like this might happen eight years ago, when you sent Alec away for his schooling."

He glared at his brother, who stood slowly and strode toward the office's north wall, where a huge painting of the founding of the Federation extended from floor to ceiling. He pressed a spot on the ornate frame, and it flashed twice before disappearing, revealing a large wet bar and several computer monitors on a low credenza.

Cook continued, "Guss, I told you it would never work. You should have trained him here, where it was safe."

The Marshal filled two glasses made of vaporous ice with a thick, dark-blue liquid. He attached handles to the glasses, to protect hands from the tremendous cold, and exited the bar. The painted nano-wall faded back into place behind him. Not looking at the Admiral, he gestured with his head for his brother to follow.

They walked out onto a terrace surrounded by lush green growth, and seated themselves on a pair of overstuffed all-weather armchairs. Without a word, the Marshal made a tiny gesture; the balcony doors slammed shut behind them, and the entire terrace started to slowly move upward towards the roof. When it reached the top, it slid sideways along the battlements before stopping inside a large opening in one of the towers, giving the two men a fabulous view of the landscape.

Hornet broke the silence. "I will be brief."

"Thank the stars," Cook muttered.

The Marshal frowned and continued. "Without Alec marrying into the House of Oranii, and strengthening the House of Hornet—not to mention insuring its survival—our clan's future looks dark. Brother. You realize that Nesbit would do anything to marry Michelle Oranii."

"You're referring to the spoiled blonde tramp downstairs?"

"Yes. Her."

Cook snorted. "Right. Nesbit has no interest in anything female."

Hornet shook his head in disagreement. "He does if they can give him status and recognition."

"You're saying he might try to join our House with hers? If Alec is gone, that would give him enough power to claim his inheritance, and immediately ascend to the main branch."

"Indeed it would."

They sat silently for a long moment. Nesbit Thore af Hornet was the child of their sister Lywellyn, dead these two decades. As firstborn of his generation, Guss was the head of the main branch of the powerful House of Hornet; leadership of the clan was by primogeniture, and had been for untold centuries. The clan head's younger siblings automatically became heads of their own cadet branches of the family, hence the "af Hornet" cognomen. Only Guss, his wife, and his eldest child—his only child, thus far—could be considered true Hornets, with all the Elite privileges that implied. Having been born to Lywellyn, Nesbit's privileges were more limited. However, if Alec were dead or incapacitated, Nesbit could ascend to the main branch of the family as the eldest survivor of his generation.

The Marshal took a sip from his ice glass, licking his lips from the cold before he spoke again. "Yes. If Alec is dead, Nesbit is free to marry Michelle Oranii, whereupon he will demand his birthright and be the next person to inherent the House of Hornet. This is something we must prevent at all costs. He is still a member of our House, but he wants to start his own."

Admiral Cook nodded. "And that's the real reason behind your decision to send the Eleventh out to look for him. I understand that, but why give me that order in front of everyone? Now your actions will be challenged by the Senate."

"That's precisely why I did it. If that happens, I'll activate the override clause, so that no one can question any of my orders the first year. After that, of course, I will be forced by the Senate to stand down the order and bring you back home. But it will give you one year to find him."

"What about sending a message to the Merchants and the Traders? Did you say that just for show?"

"Hell no. They've been too lax too long; if they want to keep policing the spacelanes themselves in conjunction with the FPs and the CPHA, they need to do a better job than this. Things are falling apart out there; it's not even safe to take a hop from here to the far moon. It's beginning to look like their organizations are riddled with corruption from top to bottom—that they're actually
allowing
some of these depredations. I won't have that. I expect they're currently receiving that message loud and clear from their representatives. Hopefully, it will frighten them enough to start searching for Alec and his friends."

"You don't think there's any risk that they'll try to sweep certain evidence under the rug?"

The Marshal shook his head. "I don't see that happening, as long as Alec is still alive."

Cook peered at him over the rim of his melting glass, and realized that he'd best finish his drink before it ended up on his trousers. He took a deep chug and smacked his lips. "Guss, it'll still be like looking for a needle in a haystack. A very big haystack."

"I don't agree. Two CPH ships attacked the very same pirates not long ago. They weren't hard to find, and I think we can do so again."

"What class of commission?" Cook wondered, curling his hands around the glass. He stared moodily into the thick bluish liquid inside.

"The latest...the First Class Frigates."

"And how did they fare?"

"They were destroyed."

Cook's hand clenched convulsively; the ice-glass shattered, spilling sticky fluid over his hands and staining his perfect uniform. He rose slowly, ignoring his discomfort, and strode to the railing, looking out unseeing at the landscape. After a long moment, the Marshal joined him at the rail.

Finally, Cook turned back to his brother and commanding officer. "Dammit, Guss, the First Class Frigates are the best the CPH has," he said gruffly. "No average pirate vessel could stand a chance against one of them, much less two. That would require either a fleet or, at bare minimum, a very large cruiser. No pirate known uses a cruiser; they're not nimble enough. Guss,
why don't you just arrest that little bastard Nesbit and his lover? This whole thing stinks worse than the ass-end of a bluttercow!"

The admiral lifted an eyebrow. "Arrest him? On what charges, with what evidence? He's a bloody hero. I take it you haven't followed the news lately."

"Me follow the news? That Government propaganda bullshit?"

Marshal Hornet looked at his younger brother coldly and said, "I know we have our differences, Hadrian, but I will not have anyone of my family slander the Federation. Anyone."

Cook nodded sharply. "Of course. My apologies. Now, what rules of engagement must I follow during this little pirate-hunting expedition?"

Hornet chose not to notice Cook's tone. "You are to use your own professional judgment at all times. However, I advise you to avoid the direct use of force if at all possible. Do not destroy anything belonging to the Traders or Merchants."

"What if they're in the hands of Florencia or some other foreign power?"

"In that case, you may consider this expedition an act of defense, and you may engage that foreign power, but only in space."

"And I may use any of my unofficial sources?"

"Details like that don't concern me, Hadrian. Just find Alec and the other prisoners. If you feel that you must, you may ask your Order for help."

Cook gave his brother a puzzled look. "I thought you disliked the Grisamm."

"Professionally, I do. But this is personal."

Cook nodded, and decided to throw caution to the wind. He wrapped his brother in a fierce embrace and said softly. "Let's do it."

Guss whispered, "Just find him as fast as you can. I'll have your orders sent to your flagship."

Cook pulled back and said, "Do you remember that one time when Alec didn't speak to me for almost a year?"

"Of course. What about it?"

"I'll make a long story short. It all started when Nesbit challenged Alec to a game of HoloSquares."

Guss frowned and said, "Yes. That was very embarrassing for me...er, Alec."

"Well, brother, not really. You see, there's something you never knew."

Again, that cocked eyebrow. "What is that?"

"Nesbit made the challenge the day before Alec's tenth birthday."

"Yes, so?"

"The following day, in front of all the guests at his birthday party, he made a bet with me."

"He
gambled
?" Hornet blurted.

Cook rolled his eyes. "Yes. He gambled. He bet me one credit that the game would be over in five minutes. Needless to say, I took the bet. Both Alec and Nesbit were very good at HoloSquares, and I really wanted to see who was best. Well, we both know what happened."

"That we do. It was the one and only time my son embarrassed me in my own house. He lost the game in less than five minutes."

Cook nodded and fell silent for a moment before he said, "I just now realized why he was upset with me for almost a year. I never paid Alec that credit."

"And why should you? The spoiled brat lost the game."

Cook looked at his brother and said coldly, "True, but he won the bet. I was angry at him for doing so, but that was no reason to dishonor myself by not keeping my word."

"Ah." After a moment, Hornet raised his head towards the sky and muttered, "Guess you owe him a credit then."

The two brothers looked at each other, and for an instant Cook thought that his older brother wanted to say something more—something he was hiding. Neither one of them noticed when the balcony began to move back toward its original position.

Chapter 12

Captain Joss Urrack tugged opened the massive double wooden doors; they were ancient, three times his height, but so perfectly balanced that they opened with a touch. Inside was a large stone-walled chamber, hewn from the living rock of the mountain. The chill walls were decorated with thousands of strange-looking animal horns, in various shapes and sizes. Set into the center of the floor was a large, bronze-colored metal disk, with a strange beast carved into the surface. Along the rounded walls were twenty enormous drums; at the end of the chamber was an altar, with musical notations carved into the stone. A very old, dust-covered basket sat in the center of the altar; next to it were arranged a number of ancient artifacts. No one remembered their use.