The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps (30 page)

“I see,” Brent said. He knew perfectly well what had her so angry, but he chose to play the innocent for a few moments more. “And which of my activities has you so angry? I went to the scene of the riot yesterday and commended a pair of Civil Guardsmen for their bravery in preventing the riot from spreading further. I then visited the flower show at Imperial Heights and presented one of the ladies with a prize for her ingenious arrangements. And then I...”

“Don’t be a bloody fool,” Carola snapped at him. “I’m talking about the recruiting effort! The Council was not consulted on either the public hangings or the recruiting policy!”

“The defence of the planet is a reserved issue,” Brent pointed out, calmly. “The Council doesn't actually get a say until it evolves into an autonomous government. Even after it becomes a government, it still has only limited authority and that only the Civil Guard. I imagine that one of your lawyers would have known that before you burst in and disturbed poor Abigail.”

Carola dismissed his comments with a sniff. She barely regarded her servants as human, let alone anyone else’s servants. Brent had heard rumours – none of them had been confirmed, of course – that Carola treated her servants badly, whipping and beating them at the slightest provocation. He’d considered launching an investigation that might have provided the ammunition to get her off the Council, but the rest of the Council would never have allowed it to happen. They knew they had to hang together or hang separately, just as the former bandits had been hanged.

“The Council was still not consulted,” Carola reminded him, “and I might remind you that you have consulted the Council in the past when making changes to the Civil Guard.”

“I have no obligation to consult the Council about anything relating to the defence of the colony,” Brent said. “The lines are blurred on Avalon, I concede, but I am still under no legal obligation to consult with anyone apart from the Civil Guard commander. The fact that I have done so in the past” – something he had rapidly come to regret – “does not create a future obligation to do so.”

“That is as may be,” Carola said, leaning back. “You have, however, chosen to ignore a direct law. All local transactions are to be done in local currency. All businesses are to use the Bank of Avalon for their payments. The new recruits, or so I am told, will be paid in cash. That is completely beyond the pale.”

Brent sighed inwardly, feeling overcome with a sense of cold despair. It said something about the general condition of Avalon that the planet couldn't muster a working satellite network, or possessed a barely-functioning communications datanet, but it had a first-rate banking system, supplied by Carola and the other debt sharks. They had manipulated the law to ensure that they collected what they were owed first, discouraging businesses from hiring and indebted workers from signing up. The black market thrived; the official businesses, even the monopolies established by the ADC, were fading away. Carola might just find herself the queen of nothing when the system finally collapsed, if she wasn't assassinated first. The bodyguards she’d brought with her testified to her reputation as the most feared and hated woman on the planet. Even Gabriella Cracker didn't have such a terrifying reputation. Brent knew men and women who would have risked everything just to take a shot at her, not that it would have mattered in the long run. Her husband would simply have taken over the business and kept going.

He felt a flicker of admiration for Captain Stalker. In one neat move, he had found himself with more willing volunteers than he could handle...and, just incidentally, given the local economy a boost. Without such high levels of taxation – the banking system taxed wage packets automatically, when they were uploaded into the computers – the volunteers could spend money freely, while the businesses wouldn’t have to declare all of their earnings. It would give the economy a shot in the arm...no wonder, then, that Carola wanted to squash it before it could get out of hand. It would weaken the Council’s grip on the local economy and therefore weaken their power base.

“I said that it is completely beyond the pale,” Carola repeated, seeing Brent drifting off. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Brent said, calmly. “It is outside of my hands.”

Carola’s face darkened. “You are the Imperial Governor of this planet,” she snapped. “You are the supreme authority on this godforsaken rock. You can do anything.”

Brent considered pointing out that the Council, ever since his predecessor had called it into existence, had spent most of its time denying that that was true, but decided against it. The temptation to rub her nose in her own failure was overwhelming. It would even be true.

“That isn't strictly true,” he said, keeping his voice calm when he wanted to gloat. “The Terran Marines operate under the authority of the Emperor himself.” He nodded towards the framed portrait of the Childe Roland on the wall. It was out of date by at least seven years, but no one had bothered to change it. It could wait until an official painting was produced when he reached his majority and took the throne formally. “They have independent authority over military deployments in the system.”

“That’s absurd,” Carola protested, angrily. “You’re the Governor.”

Brent snorted gently. “I am the Governor of a planet with a serious insurgency,” he said, deciding not to point out how Carola and her allies had hobbled the Civil Guard, making it harder for the Guard to actually fight the bandits, let alone the Crackers. “I am a very small fish compared to the Sector Governor, let alone the Grand Senate and the Emperor. If they choose to grant a Marine Captain freedom of action...who am I to say no?”

He shrugged. “And, besides, an officer from the Marines or the Imperial Army would officially have seniority over anyone from the Civil Guard,” he added. “Captain Stalker, like it or not, is the
de facto
senior military officer in the system. The best that I” – and your puppets, he carefully didn't add – “can do is advise. If he decides he wants to recruit volunteers and pay them in cash, he has the legal authority to do so.”

“The Council will not stand for this,” Carola said. “The Council...”

“Has no say in the matter,” Brent cut in, sharply. Her saw her eyes widen and cursed his own mistake. She had thought him a fool. Now she would be taking him seriously. “The decision was made by Captain Stalker and I cannot gainsay it. If the Council refuses to cooperate...well, at best, it won’t slow him down at all. At worst...the Council could find itself charged with treason.”

“A Councillor has immunity from all charges,” Carola pointed out.

“There is no such thing as immunity against a treason charge, even among the Grand Senate,” Brent countered. He looked down for a moment, studying the map on his desk. “The best advice I can give you is to cooperate and make what profit you can on the sidelines.”

“They’re hiring workers to build barracks,” Carola said, changing the subject. “Those contracts should be issued by the Council and given to those who need them. That is very definitely a civilian issue.”

Brent snorted. She meant that the Councillors would give the work to businesses they owned, rather than allowing companies to bid for the contracts and undercut the Council. It was a common trick and explained why so much of Camelot was in bad shape. If there was no need to compete against a rival firm, a business had every incentive to cut corners and use poor materials. Who would dare make a complaint against a business backed by the Council?

“Castle Rock is their territory now,” Brent said. He’d seen to that. “They can determine everything from the building codes to the wages – what and how the workers are paid. If it works out well for them, I may even ask the Council to review the business-related policies in Camelot and the other cities.”

Carola’s eyes sharpened. She was no fool and read the underlying threat easily. If the Marines paid well for good work, they would create new businesses that would undercut the Council...and, if the Council moved to crush them under a mountain of red tape, they might face massive civil unrest. For the first time since the colony had been settled, hope was spreading through the air. The Crackers would not be slow to take advantage of any sudden changes. Carola’s power was limited, even though she pretended otherwise. A massive explosion in Camelot would see her and the Council dead.

“I formally protest,” she said, sharply. “The Council will meet to discuss the issue.”

Brent silently dismissed it as the empty threat it was. “I look forward to it,” he said. Carola couldn't be trusted to pass on an accurate account of their conversation to the other Councillors; he’d have to see to it himself. “Until then...”

Carola bowed angrily. “This isn't over,” she said, as she turned to depart. “We are the elected representatives of the people, empowered to act in their best interests. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Brent told the door. Carola had slammed it closed as she stormed out. A roar of engines from outside told him that her private car had departed at high speed, heading back to her mansion. “I won’t forget anything.”

He shook his head and turned back to the endless paperwork that needed his signature. Some homesteads, abandoned since the bandit attacks had begun, had been claimed by new settlers, who wanted to try to turn them into prosperous farms again. The Civil Guard wanted to up its signing bonus for new recruits, although Brent doubted that that would get far. The Civil Guard still paid wages directly into the banking system. He signed it anyway, knowing that the Council would block any attempt to pay the Civil Guardsmen in cash. They did have authority there.

“Idiots,” he muttered, as he finished signing the papers. “Stupid idiots.”

***

It would have upset the Governor, Edward knew, if he had known that his office was bugged. Colonel Kitty Stevenson had scattered a handful of modern surveillance devices throughout Government House, using them to keep tabs on the Governor and his senior staff. It was barely legal, as she’d acknowledged when Edward demanded to know just how much authority she had, but there was no other choice. Governors of stage-one and stage-two worlds tended to be corrupt and the various intelligence services were charged with rooting out corrupt officials.

“I think she means trouble,” Kitty said, once she had finished replaying the recording. “You’ve managed to hack off the entire Council.”

“You say that as if it were a bad thing,” Edward said. Castle Rock’s facilities were still being developed, the new recruits would be arriving in two days...and he simply didn't have the time to waste on political manoeuvrings. Two of his platoons were still out near the badlands, backed up by the Civil Guard. “We need those recruits motivated.”

“I'm not disputing that,” Kitty said, impatiently. “The problem is that you’re smashing up the local power structure. The Wilhelm Family and their allies won’t let you get away with it without a fight. Sure, legally you’re in the right, but they can keep hammering away at you until you break.”

Edward shrugged. The Governor had been right when he said that Edward was the senior officer in the system. The closest officer who could overrule him was at the sector capital, several weeks away even under Phase Drive. It would take months before any countermanding order arrived, if one was issued. Carola Wilhelm might be a big fish on Avalon, but her concerns would hardly register elsewhere. Why would they care about her?

“And then she might try something really stupid,” Kitty continued. “What happens if she starts trying to have you assassinated?”

“Lieutenant Faulkner assumes command and Carola Wilhelm ends up dead,” Edward said. He knew enough not to take the threat lightly – mindless bravado wasn't a Marine tradition, although legend suggested otherwise – but it barely registered compared to the other problems he faced. The equipment they’d brought from Earth had to be protected at all costs, yet once the starships pulled out – and he’d delayed them too long already – it would be much harder to safeguard Castle Rock. “It really isn't a concern at the moment.”

He smiled up at her. “Keep an eye on them for me,” he added. “Can you get any bugs into her mansion?”

“I’ve tried,” Kitty admitted, “but she has some really sophisticated counter-surveillance systems. I think she must have purchased them before she came to Avalon and kept them to herself. I can't get a bug inside for long and none of the ones I have deployed have reported anything useful before they were removed. I don’t know if she knows we’re the ones watching her.”

“Her friends are probably watching her as well,” Edward said. Marine counter-surveillance teams swept Castle Rock’s facilities every day, looking for any surprises. “A nicer crowd of smiling backstabbers you couldn't hope to meet.”

“Yes sir,” Kitty said, with a shrug. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t think she’s going to rest on her laurels and wait for you to take her power away from her.”

***

Professor Leo Caesius finally came home in the early hours of the morning, his face tired and wan. Jasmine, who had been waiting patiently – reading a copy of his famously banned book to pass the time – stood up to open the door and beckoned him inside. His eyes widened when they saw her – he hadn’t known that she was going to be inside – and she saw the fear in his eyes. He wasn't scared of her, but of what she might tell him. His wife or daughters might have been hurt. Jasmine motioned him to the sofa and, in crisp brief words, explained exactly what had happened, leaving out nothing.

She had considered simply telling him about the spanking and nothing else, knowing that she would have hated for her father to know everything she’d done when she was that age, but the Professor had to know the full story. Mandy could have gotten herself killed – or worse – while her father did...what? She still didn't know what the Professor did now that he lived in Camelot.

“I see,” he said, finally. His voice was calm, but Jasmine’s sensitive ears could hear a quiver. He loved his daughter, even if she could be a pain at times. It reminded her of when she’d told her father that she was leaving for Boot Camp and how he’d tried to be brave for her. He’d been more nervous than Jasmine had been! “I understand...”