The Phoenix War (19 page)

“And those threats will be dealt with as they
emerge,” said Kalila, her words absolute.

Calvin was not so optimistic.

“In the meantime,” Kalila continued, “we must
swiftly unite our people, restore order to the Empire. And then
deeply cleanse it from top to bottom, root out all of the
corruption and take the withered and diseased branches and cast
them into the fire. If we do as you say, if we relent and allow
those elements to rule the Empire, corrupt leadership from men of
the lowest moral caliber, men like Caerwyn Martel who would sell us
all to alien slavers for three q, then it is true we might stand a
better chance against the short-term threat of alien invasion. We
might
be able to create a unified front and intimidate them.
Or repel them, if it came right down to it. Though that is far from
a foregone conclusion. But, even assuming we did, what would it buy
us?”

“Peace,” said Calvin.

“Yes, peace,” said Kalila. “For a season. But
then what? The corruption spreads and grows, the government
evolves, takes upon itself new powers, everything is restructured.
Greater foreign and corporate influence take root, more of our
leaders are purchased by foreign elements with corrosive agendas.
As you recall, it was you who warned me about the Phoenix
Conspiracy. About the Phoenix Ring plotting to destroy and re-forge
our Empire. The leaders of the Phoenix Ring may be gone, but their
legacy remains. As does the corruption. Corruption at the highest
levels. And it grows by the day. In a time when ships vanish, and
admirals can be replaced by replicants, and Members of the Assembly
can sell their loyalties to the highest bidder… is that the future
you wish for humanity? Is that what you’re fighting for? What
you’re willing to die for?”

She looked at him candidly. And Calvin found
he had no answer for her. The threats she spoke of, the corruption,
he knew it was real. He’d seen evidence of it firsthand, he’d been
fighting it hand-and-fist since that first moment on Praxis One,
when he’d been sent in pursuit of the stolen Harbinger. Ever since
then his picture of how vast, dark, and deep the conspiracy was had
shocked and terrified him. And he’d done literally everything he
could think of to oppose it. Surely he couldn’t ask Kalila to
surrender the reigns of the Empire to such corruption, and give up
any hope of justice for her slain father and siblings, to purchase
a little temporary safety against the Rotham and Polarians… but on
the other hand, if she didn’t surrender, if she kept fighting, and
the Empire tore itself apart in civil war… what then would stop the
Rotham and the Polarians from conquering and destroying humanity?
And could Calvin even be certain that Kalila herself wasn’t behind
the murders of the king and his eldest children? That all of this,
including the imminent civil war, wasn’t a power play orchestrated
by Kalila to grant herself control of the Empire—even at the dear
cost of its possible destruction? He searched her eyes, wondering
if she could really be such a person. As he probed her, staring at
her rich brown irises, seeing the passion burning within them, he
was almost certain she could
not
be the monster he feared
she was. She seemed in every way sincere. But then again, he’d been
fooled before…

“Now that we know the Alliance cannot deter
the Republic from crossing the DMZ,” said Calvin, “we
have
to act on that information.”

“We don’t know that,” said Kalila. “We
suspect it. We even fear it. But as you yourself told me earlier,
we don’t know the information is true. We just know it might
be.”

“I still think we have to do something,”
insisted Calvin. “You told me we are of a similar mind. That this
threat must be dealt with.”

“And indeed it must,” said Kalila. “Which is
why I am charging you to investigate it. I am asking you to go into
the DMZ, collect intelligence regarding the Alliance’s military
capacity, and assess the likelihood that they remain a deterrence
against Rotham military ambitions in the DMZ. You will also study
Rotham military activity and report back to me. If their fleets are
mobilizing, we need to know. And we need to know
now
.”

Calvin felt a rush of excitement at the
prospect of this new mission. Finally something he could do, a way
to channel his concerns into action and allow him to contribute to
the defense of the Empire. If the Rotham military was indeed the
threat he feared it to be, this was his chance to expose that and,
if he was lucky, use the intelligence he would gather to awaken the
Empire to dangers facing them.

“Will you do this?” asked Kalila. “Not only
for your queen, but for your people?”

Calvin couldn’t accept fast enough. “I will
leave at once,” he said. “And Rafael is coming with me.” His brain
began churning over the logistical details of this new assignment,
what he would need to do to prepare, and how exactly he would
execute an investigation deep into the DMZ, and beyond—into Rotham
space.

“I am glad to hear it,” said Kalila. Her lips
betrayed the hint of a smile. “Unfortunately I have no ships to
spare, though you and I both know that a large ship would attract
too much attention anyway. Therefore I grant you full access to the
Black Swan’s shuttles and fighters.”

Shuttles and fighters? He’d assumed he’d be
taking the Nighthawk. After all, it had the stealth capability he
needed, as well as the expert personnel and resources for just such
an op. But then he remembered the Nighthawk’s current mission, one
of paramount urgency—to hunt down and destroy the remaining isotome
weapons—and he realized the ship would be unavailable to him for
this mission into the DMZ. At least for now. Which meant he’d have
to make other arrangements. Although, he might be able to reassign
a handful of the crew, his dear friends, to join him…

“Also you may assemble a list of any
resources you will need, including personnel,” continued Kalila.
“And send that list to Captain Adiger as soon as you are able. He
will see to it you have what you require.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Calvin bowed.

She dismissed him, charging him to go and
make his arrangements quickly. Since his mission was so
time-sensitive. “One last thing before I go,” said Calvin, thinking
of his father’s cryptic and chilling warning that the Alliance
would soon cease to be a deterrence to the Rotham—he could imagine
the Khans and the vampire-like strigoi Enclave wreaking some kind
of violent and brutal slaughter among the people of the Alliance,
and the thought made him shiver. The very thought reminded him of
the strigoi-induced massacre he’d personally witnessed aboard the
Trinity…

“Yes?” Kalila looked at him curiously.

“The Alliance…” Calvin hesitated for a
moment. Having to take a second to clear his mind of the dark and
terrifying images that’d surfaced. “They should be warned. If the
Enclave is about to do something… maybe if the Alliance government
can be warned…”

“I quite agree,” said Kalila. “And an effort
will be made to warn the Alliance government. If they know there is
a threat, perhaps they can counter it. And then their fleets will
remain a valuable deterrence against Rotham aggression across the
DMZ.”

Calvin had been thinking more about
preventing a terrible slaughter by warning the Alliance, rather
than the strategic usefulness of such a move. But Kalila did have a
point.

“Unfortunately, I fear the Alliance’s leaders
will prove unwilling to listen. Their distrust of the Empire is
deep and their leaders may already be in the pockets of our
enemies. But I shall see to it that every effort is made to warn
them. I hope they will listen. And indeed I hope the threat proves
baseless. But in case they don’t, and in case it isn’t, I need you
to hurry. We depend on you for the truth. You are our eyes.”

Calvin bowed and made for the door. Just as
he reached it, Kalila spoke.

“And Calvin,” she said, stopping him in his
tracks. He turned around and faced her. “Whatever you see there.
Whatever you discover,” her eyes narrowed. “Tell me everything.”
Her words were a warning, he knew. This was her way of telling him
that she hadn’t completely forgiven him for withholding information
about the replicants. Future omissions would not be tolerated.

“I promise,” he said. “Anything I learn, I
will report to you in full detail as soon as I’m able.”

“Very good.”

It was all getting very tiresome.

Caerwyn stood on the Assembly Floor,
alongside Lords Conroy, Doran, Savet, and that insolent young whelp
Leor Zhang, as the Great Houses voted for a monarch for the
twenty-seventh time. Only this time the outcome would be different,
Caerwyn had made certain
arrangements
.

“House Warren declares for Lord Conroy,” said
Lord Warren to nobody’s surprise. Thus far all the votes had been
the same. Everyone always voted the same way, no matter how many
times the Great Houses were polled. Political loyalties ran deep,
and no single House dared upset their friends and allies by voting
against their bloc, not without sufficient motivation…

It had been difficult finding one of the
Great House Representatives that was open-minded to persuasion.
Considering that, should Caerwyn choose his target poorly, and the
lord or lady happened to report his attempt to grease the wheels,
it would result in harsh consequences. Which meant direct bribery
was out of the question. He couldn’t convince any of the others to
drop out, nor could he approach the Coles, or the Florences, or the
Millers, or really anyone. Or so it had first seemed.

And then, rather suddenly, the Ortiz family’s
famous vineyards, on which they entirely depended for their wealth,
lost certain…
essential contracts
. Which made Lord Ortiz
much more
pliable
. Of course Caerwyn himself had been
undetectably behind the vineyards’ loss of contracts, through his
considerable business connections, but that sort of minutia was
neither here nor there.

“House Li declares for Lord Doran,” said Lady
Li. Adding her voice to Doran’s tally, keeping him even with
Caerwyn. More votes followed and no one was surprised by each
outcome. The count remained the same, with only a few more votes to
be counted. By all appearances it was the same fruitless, stupid
gridlock that had prevailed in all of the previous efforts to elect
a new monarch. As Caerwyn looked at the many bored faces around
him, he tried not to smile.

And then his moment of glory came. Lord Ortiz
stood up to vote. He shot Caerwyn an anxious look and then cleared
his throat. Caerwyn narrowed his eyes, as if to communicate exactly
what was on the line for Lord Ortiz and his family. His business
could triple with one word. New lucrative contracts were promised,
far more generous ones than those he’d lost. All he had to do was
put an end to this madness. It was time to elect a king. It was
time for the Empire, and humanity, to move forward. And now the
chance for that to happen rested upon Lord Ortiz’s shoulders.

He stood there, looking nervous.

“Mister Ortiz, your vote please,” said
Representative Tate, impatient with the delay.

Lord Ortiz cleared his throat again. “House
Ortiz declares for…”

Here it comes
, thought Caerwyn.

“House Ortiz declares for,” Lord Ortiz
repeated. He gulped and then finished his sentence. “Lord
Conroy.”

WHAT? Lord Conroy?
Caerwyn wanted to
scream, though he managed to keep his silence, barely.
That
wasn’t the deal!
Caerwyn did all he could to hide his surprise,
after all Lord Ortiz had just cast the same vote he’d cast
twenty-six times before. The one everyone expected. Caerwyn
couldn’t seem surprised, otherwise the others would know he was up
to something. Not that it had done him any good…

Lord Ortiz shot him a look of apology as he
sat down. Caerwyn looked back at him coldly. His face was neutral,
but his eyes were full of loathing.
I’ll bury you for this
,
Mister Ortiz
,
I swear it
. The fool had proven too
cowardly to go against his faction, and for that he would pay
dearly. If he’d thought his vineyards were in trouble before… he
had no idea the hell he’d just invited upon himself.

But justice would have to wait. At least
Ortiz hadn’t reported Caerwyn’s bribe to the Committee. But that
was indeed small consolation.

The final votes were cast and tallied and the
twenty-seventh outcome proved the same as the previous twenty-six.
But this time, as the Assembly made ready to adjourn, and Caerwyn
looked over all the other idiots he had to work with, he felt
something different.

I cannot win the throne
, he thought.
Not this way. And this lunacy of being unable to elect me king
must end.
He stared at members of the presiding committee, the
three people who had the most influence over the hundreds of
members of the Assembly who didn’t belong to Great Houses. In
particular he looked at Representative Tate. She sat in the center,
influential yet complacent, seemingly content with the Assembly’s
inability to choose a king. And she was from Thetican System. Her
constituents lived there…

Then Caerwyn had an idea. It wasn’t a perfect
one, and it wouldn’t give him what he wanted most, but it seemed
like a steppingstone that could be used to springboard himself onto
the throne. So long as he played his cards exactly right.

He stood up, just before the session was
about to close and adjourn for the day.

“The Floor recognizes Representative Martel
of Capital World,” said Representative Tate. She didn’t look
pleased to see him, but she also wasn’t the sort to ignore the
Assembly’s rules of procedure just so she could go home sooner.