The Thin Blue Line (The Empire's Corps Book 9) (v5.1) (42 page)

The important messages were short and to the point. Island One would receive its first guests later in the day, including the Governor, Patty and Thomas Augustus. Glen had heard of him – who hadn't? – and suspected he would make a reasonable delegate to represent Terra Nova’s industry. The remainder of the delegates would arrive over the next two days – there was some leeway built into the schedule – and the conference would begin as soon as they were all assembled. It was, Glen suspected, a testament to the sheer urgency of the conference that most of the formalities were being skipped.

And that no one has any actual experience of holding a summit conference
, he added, in the privacy of his own mind. He’d checked, just out of curiosity, and the last time the Empire had ever negotiated with
anyone
as an equal had been towards the end of the Unification Wars.
Normally, they’d just send a battlefleet to hand out the demands and administer a thumping if anyone decided to reject the demands
.

He shook his head, tiredly, The list of attendees was long, with representatives coming from all over the Core Worlds and even a few of the closer colonies. It would be a pain to organise, even with the best will in the world, while there were plenty of worlds that wouldn't even
know
about the conference until it was too late. Even the fastest starships took six months to travel from Earth to the edge of the Empire. Hell, he knew, there would be worlds that hadn’t heard about the Fall of Earth yet.

It had normally been a major problem for the Empire that it took so long to send out the orders, then get a report back from the people on the ground. But, for once, the time delay might be working in the Empire’s favour. By the time the rest of the Empire knew that Earth was gone, the Governor might have hammered out a compromise that would leave the rest of the Core Worlds intact, ready to deal with any disobedient colony worlds. There would still be a great deal of chaos, not least because of how badly the Empire’s military had been pruned back before the Fall of Earth, but it would be survivable. Or so the Governor clearly hoped.

“Glen,” Belinda said. She stepped back into the room and sat down on the bed. “I think Helen needs some stability in her life.”

Glen nodded. It made sense, he supposed. Starship life was very stable. Helen had probably reacted badly to being taken off her ship and held as a hostage, then living with Glen, because it was inherently unpredictable. And then she’d had to change homes again ...

“I was planning to go out to the colonies,” he said. “If Helen’s parents don’t show up by the end of the conference, I’ll take her with me.”

“You might go into trading instead,” Belinda offered. “Helen would prefer that, I think. If, of course, you’re serious about adopting her.”

Glen considered, then nodded. It wasn't the sort of life he’d care for, but it would have its upsides. Part of him was tempted to ask if Belinda would like to come with him, yet he couldn't get the words through his lips. It would have been tempting fate.

He stood and checked his watch. “We’ll go for breakfast once we've showered and dressed,” he said. “And then take Helen to school.”

Breakfast was as staggeringly luxurious as dinner – and, if anything, even more elaborate. Glen ordered a small plate of bacon and eggs – careful to specify a small plate – and shook his head in disbelief when a giant plate of food was placed in front of him. Belinda ordered a large plate and ended up with an even bigger pile of food. Somehow, she managed to eat it all, while Helen ate a plate of bacon sandwiches and scrambled eggs. Glen honestly had no idea how she managed to remain so thin when she ate so much. But she hadn't shown so large an appetite on Terra Nova.

“I checked the updates,” he said, and outlined what he'd been told. “If I go to greet my superiors, will you keep an eye on the security lounge?”

“I should say hello to Mr. Augustus,” Belinda said. “But that can wait.”

Glen gave her a sidelong look. “You know him?”

“We’ve met,” Belinda said. She shrugged. “He offered me a job.”

“Well,” Glen said, after a long moment. “If I hadn't believed you beforehand, Belinda, I certainly believe you now.”

Belinda giggled.

“It would have been tempting if I hadn't had another task,” she said. “Has there been any progress on identifying Keystone’s killer?”

“None,” Glen said. “I specifically requested that I be informed if anything were found, but ...”

He shrugged. He’d been ordered to concentrate on the conference and leave the whole issue of the Nihilists and their warehouse to other Marshals. Given how few Marshals there were, it was quite possible that the whole issue had been left in limbo. It was insane, in his view, to leave a group of known terrorists free to act as they saw fit, but there was little choice, not if they wanted to maintain such a strong presence on the streets.

And he who would be strong everywhere is strong nowhere
, he thought, remembering Isabel’s death. If there had been more reaction forces poised, ready to spring ... she might have survived.
We don’t even have the manpower to patrol the streets
.

Belinda sighed. “Do you know if they even sent a team to investigate?”

“They should have done,” Glen said. “The Campus Police were informed. And there was a second body in the apartment.”

He shrugged, again. “They might not give a damn now,” he added. “What use is a dead student?”

Belinda snorted. “What use is a
living
student?”

Glen watched the servants take the plates away, including quite a bit of leftover food, and then stood. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find the schoolhouse.”

The tube station was nearby, buried underground. Glen was moderately impressed; the tube system was fast and efficient, not something that could be said of public transport on the planet below. When they emerged from the station, they found themselves in the midst of a small village. A sign identified it as Hundred-Acre Woodsville.

Helen frowned. “What’s an Acre?”

“It's an old style of measurement,” Belinda said. She paused, obviously consulting her implants. “Roughly four thousand square metres, I believe.”

“So the village is really called Four Hundred Thousand Square Metres?” Helen asked. “Why the odd name?”

“It's just a name,” Belinda said. “Give us a few thousand years and people might forget what kilometres are too.”

“It isn't the first name to hang around without anyone knowing what it actually means,” Glen offered. The village looked natural, too natural. One long look was enough to tell him that it was designed to an ideal, rather than reality. “There's a planet called Washington, but who or what was Washington?”

“A great military leader and rebel,” Belinda supplied. “The Empire removed him and most of his allies from the history books. The last thing they want is to encourage rebellions against their authority.”

Glen smiled, then walked down towards the schoolhouse. It was already open, with a friendly-looking teacher standing in front of the door, waving a handful of children into the classroom. She looked so friendly that Glen wondered, for a long moment, if she actually
was
the teacher. Most of the teachers he'd met looked stressed out, their eyes flickering to and fro as if they could prevent mischief if only they saw it. They tended to take early retirement after working long enough to earn their pension.

But here, there won't be any bad kids
, he thought.
And even if there were, the teacher is being paid enough to deal with them
.

“Marshal Cheal, Captain Lawson,” the teacher said. “I'm Mrs Teacher.”

Belinda gaped. “Seriously?”

“Working name,” the teacher said, with a shrug. She motioned for them to enter the classroom. “We have teaching machines here for the morning, then the children engage in unstructured play or enhanced learning. I understand your charge has never been in a planetary classroom?”

“Correct,” Glen said.

“Lucky you,” the teacher said. She looked down at Helen. “Do you have any educational certificates?”

“Not with me,” Helen said, very quietly.

“And we’re not sure how long we’re going to have you,” the teacher mused. “We’ll start you on a handful of basic exams, then start proper learning tomorrow once we know where you stand. Or we can take more exams for certificates, if you like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glen said. He had enough contacts to obtain the certificates, if necessary. No doubt it would be, if Helen ever decided she wanted to work on one of the Core Worlds. “Just work on her education.”

The teacher smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Do you want a quick tour?”

“Yes, please,” Glen said.

His school on Earth had been horrific. Indeed, one of the reasons he'd gone into law enforcement was through having too close a view of the very worst of human nature. There had been no order, no discipline ... and the stronger students had bullied the younger ones mercilessly. Even now, he wouldn't have willingly walked into one of those schools without a platoon of armed guards in powered combat armour.

But Island One’s school was lovely. There were no bad children, clearly, as nothing was nailed down or cheap enough not to be missed, if it were stolen. A handful of kids sat in front of teaching machines, while several others were working together. Oddly, they seemed to range from seven to fifteen. And none of them looked unpleasant. They even threw shy smiles at Helen.

“Acceptable,” he said, feeling a stab of bitterness. If he’d had a chance for proper schooling, he asked himself, would it have made his life better? “We’ll come back for her tonight?”

“That’s fine,” the teacher assured him. “The parents often come back late for their children, so the school is actually open 24/7. If she needs a nap, there’s a bedroom through there and we have food and drink shipped in. Does she have any special requirements? I notice she’s not on the system.”

Neural link
, Glen thought. “No, she doesn't,” he said. “Just ... take care of her.”

He waved goodbye to Helen as she sat down in front of one of the teaching machines, activating it with easy competence. Belinda nodded, then followed Glen as he walked out of the schoolhouse and back towards the tube station. The village was slowly coming to life, he noted, with men and women emerging from their homes and heading to work. They must be rich enough to afford a home on Island One, but not among the richest people in the system, he decided. But merely living on Island One would give their kids an enviable start at life.

“She’ll be fine,” Belinda reassured him. “And she will have to resume her education wherever she goes.”

“I know,” Glen admitted. “But I will still worry about her.”

“Dad-shock,” Belinda diagnosed. “It gets them every time.”

Glen looked down at the stone pathway, then grinned. “Let’s hold a security drill,” he said. “That always cheers people up.”

“I suppose it would,” Belinda said. “But you’ll also have them mad at you. And plotting revenge.”

“I’ll survive,” Glen said. The great advantage of drills was that it allowed mistakes to be made – and learned from – without a real emergency. But the disadvantage was that too many drills could convince people not to take them seriously. “And they need the practice.”

“Yeah,” Belinda said. She lowered her voice as they passed a pair of teenage girls, both looking remarkably unafraid at sighting strangers. “Just remember – this isn't a military base. You can't hold them to the same standards.”

Glen snorted. “No,” he said. “I’ll hold them to higher standards.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Indeed, laws were being passed that made being in debt a criminal offense. A debtor could be seized and arrested, then sold to a settlement corporation – slavery, in other words – merely for being in debt. And yet, there was hardly anyone in the Empire who was free from debt.

- Professor Leo Caesius.
The Decline of Law and Order and the Rise of Anarchy.

The staff were looking rather harried, Belinda noted, as she stepped into Island One’s command centre. Two days of relentless drills had that effect, as Glen forced them to run through their procedures for each and every conceivable emergency. By now, they considered themselves ready for anything, although Belinda had her doubts. It was her experience that preparing for the expected – or the probable – tended to weaken one’s resistance to the unexpected.

She sucked in her breath as she caught sight of the holographic display. Hundreds of starships were slowly circling Island One, each one watching the others warily. Belinda felt a pang of loss as she realised that, to all intents and purposes, the battle squadrons might as well belong to different fleets. The Imperial Navy had been fragmenting for years, as squadron commanders started to consider their interests ahead of the service, but the Fall of Earth had shattered the remaining ties. They were no longer part of the same navy.

“We have thirty-seven different squadrons within range,” the operator said. He was young enough to be Belinda’s son, assuming she’d started early. “So far, they’re not doing anything hostile, but their sensors are at full capacity and they’ve rejected the idea of leave on Terra Nova.”

“Hard to blame them,” Belinda muttered. The latest outbreak of violence had threatened to consume an entire megacity. It was impossible to tell if the riots were being planned by an outside force or if they were random, but it hardly mattered. Terra Nova was on the brink of falling into complete chaos. “What about our own defences?”

“Ready to spring to life,” the operator assured her. He was too young to grasp the truth. If the fleets started firing at each other, Island One would be destroyed in the crossfire. There were thirty-two heavily armoured battleships out there and Island One was flimsy by comparison. “But we have them stepped down for the moment.”

“Then keep them stepped down unless the shit hits the fan,” Belinda ordered. There was far too much tension out there. The Governors, Admirals and outright Warlords who had been invited to the conference distrusted each other, not without reason. Only the prospect of a share in the pie without fighting had brought them to the negotiation table. “And then be prepared to cover Island One alone.”

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