Méridien (The Silver Ships Book 3) (35 page)

The Administrator drew breath to announce his displeasure, something he couldn’t recall ever having had to do in his position, when his implant security protocols evaporated like water on a hot day. He received a single word: . The word reverberated in his head, pulsing, demanding. The Administrator attempted to block the signal, but the harder he tried, the stronger the pulse became. Sweat broke out on his brow. He felt nauseous, and bile rose in his throat. Finally, fear overcame the Administrator’s decades of training, and he signaled the Chambers’ doors open. The familiar hiss of the ornate doors sliding aside was accompanied by the abrupt sensation of the pressure disappearing in his head, and he near wept with relief.

Prior to the Council meeting, Alex had set a portion of his plan in play with Julien. It sprang from statements Eric had uttered during their discussion about the upcoming Council meeting. Eric had said, “The people follow the directives of our Council, but they are not the Council.” Alex had wondered what Méridiens would make of what he had to say to the Council.

As the Council Chambers’ doors opened, Alex linked with Julien to record his conversation with the Council. In turn, Julien linked to Cordelia, Z, and Mutter. Cordelia sent her broadcast to the FTL station to forward to all other Confederation colonies. Mutter forwarded her signal to thousands of ship SADEs within the system, and Z relayed his signal to the Méridien comm SADEs who were responsible for distribution of House announcements to the population at large. Julien had affixed House Alexander’s distribute-code to ensure the SADEs and FTL Station would relay the signal.

The Council Chambers had been designed to intimidate. Hundreds of Council members sat in rows high above the floor where supplicants stood. No chair was present to accommodate the supplicant. Alex had learned from Renée that only House Leaders sat on the Council, and they had gained their position by election—an election where only House Leaders voted.

The Méridien who had been standing before the Council looked with confusion at the Council Leader. When no instructions were forthcoming, he backed out of Alex’s way.

Council Leader Mahima Ganesh, a matron who had outlived two partners, stared disdainfully at Alex and said, “You have not been summoned here, Admiral. The Council will not hear your request. You and your people will leave.”

“Council Members,” Alex said, projecting his voice to be heard throughout the chambers. “I didn’t come here to make a request or to listen to you. I have words to deliver to you.”

“Leave, Admiral,” Mahima repeated, “or I will disband the Council and you will have no audience for your words.”

“That is not my wish, Leader Ganesh,” Alex replied, cold anger underlining his words.

Mahima rose from her chair and instantly sat back down. She struggled to stand and found she wasn’t in control of her limbs.

“You will hear my words, Leader Ganesh. Then and only then will I release you.”

The House Leaders were incredulous as they watched their Council Leader struggle to stand. Because she couldn’t move, they didn’t dare try. Where many of the Leaders had glared at the huge New Terran in contempt, incredulity, or anger, most now stared at him in fear.

“I presume you have reviewed Julien’s message of the events in the Arnos system,” Alex said. “The menace of the Nua’ll, the giant sphere, is gone. Your thanks should go to the Swei Swee, who were enslaved by the Nua’ll and forced to drive the silver ships. Under our influence, those slaves chose to revolt. As a reward for their actions against the Nua’ll, which cost them many lives, adults and hatchlings, I have given them Libre.”

The intake of hundreds of breaths was a distinct sound in the chambers. Eric and Tomas shared grins. This was some of what they had hoped to witness, and it was proving to be well worth it.

“I forbid Méridien ships to enter the Arnos system without my express permission or the permission of my people’s future leaders,” Alex announced.

Gino Diamanté, Leader of House Diamanté, tentatively raised a hand.

“Yes, Leader Diamanté?” Alex allowed.

“If I may, Admiral, would you clarify who you mean by ‘your people’? Do you speak of New Terrans?”

“These are my people,” Alex replied. He sent images from his databases to the Leaders … of Fiona, Gregorio, Sawalie, Heinrich, Bobbie, Jase, Sean, Hatsuto, and the other lost pilots, of his Méridien and New Terran crew, of the Independents, of the House Bergfalk personnel, of his SADEs, and of his pioneers. “And those you see standing with me today … Ser de Guirnon, Senior Captain Tachenko, Captain Manet, Director Monti, Director Stroheim, and Étienne and Alain de Long,” Alex added.

“Th-Thank you, Admiral, for … for clarifying that for us,” Gino Diamanté stammered.

The Admiral’s response was not the expected answer. The Council’s SADE had summarized for the Leaders that the Admiral’s images detailed a quarter of a million people, primarily from the Confederation, that he now claimed as his people. That most were Independents wasn’t their concern; that the Admiral was co-opting Méridiens was their concern.

Albert de Guirnon chose that moment to attempt to repay the affront he had received from his sister. “Council Leader, there is still a matter of the
Rêveur
. Our House lays claim to the ship.”

“You can’t have the
Rêveur
, Albert,” Alex replied first, ignoring the man’s title. “Méridien salvage law supports our claim. More importantly, it is the vessel of my friend, and you can’t have him.”

The latter statement left the Council members confused, but the smiles and grins of the Admiral’s people told the Leaders that the Admiral’s statement wasn’t a mystery to them.

Mahima Ganesh stopped struggling. When she did, control returned to her legs. She eyed the Admiral with suspicion. Known for having one of the keenest Méridien minds, Mahima began to reconsider what she should be asking the New Terran Leader.

“Have you said all you came to say, Admiral?” Mahima asked.

“Not quite, Council Leader,” Alex replied. “You will direct all Méridien ships to stay out of the Arnos system. I will punish any transgression.”

The Council members were aghast at Alex’s proclamation, and they weren’t the only ones, but Alex’s people, despite their thoughts, kept neutral expressions on their face.

“In addition, Leaders,” Alex continued, “know that you have not only lost Arnos, but you have lost Hellébore. That system, I take for my people.”

“Admiral, you have no right to do this,” Mahima stated, surprised to find herself on her feet.

“Let’s discuss that, Leader Ganesh,” Alex replied calmly. “You lost six colonies to the Nua’ll. My people saved the remaining Confederation colonies, including Méridien. What price would you place on your home world and your remaining colonies?”

Alex watched the Leaders quietly focus on their implants, discussing Alex’s question.

“The Council did not request this service from you,” Mahima finally replied. “Your claim has no foundation.”

Alex looked at Renée and grinned. She had accurately predicted Mahima’s response.

“Because I’m feeling generous today, Leader Ganesh and Council members, let me share something with you,” Alex said, spreading his arms in a magnanimous gesture. Alex sent.

Julien streamed Cordelia’s telemetry of the comm burst from the dying Nua’ll ship to Alex and the SADEs, who forwarded it to the entire Confederation. Simultaneously Alex linked to the Leaders’ implants, wiping aside their security protocols and sharing the signal, which would mean little to them.

“Once your comm engineers and SADEs have analyzed that signal,” Alex said, “they will come to the conclusion that your advanced Méridien technology could not have created it. That’s because the Nua’ll ship sent it just before it was destroyed. My SADEs tell me the signal was aimed in the general direction of Hellébore, from where the Nua’ll originated. We surmise that the Nua’ll sent a distress signal home.”

Alex allowed the Leaders time to digest that thought. Then he took a few steps closer to the front rows and raised his voice as if he was addressing a large crowd, saying, “So I ask you, Leaders of the Confederation, whom would you prefer settle your farthest known system from where the Nua’ll first arrived … your people, who run from their own shadows, or my people, who have the courage to confront their enemies?”

Comms flew between the Council members. Some members urged no compromise with the Admiral, saying it would set a dangerous precedent. The majority disagreed. They had lost family, friends, and associates on the six colonies destroyed by the Nua’ll. If there was even a remote chance that a second monster ship would emerge from the deep dark via the Hellébore system, they didn’t want Méridien lives at risk, and if the Admiral wanted to risk his people, so much the better.

“Admiral Racine, the will of the Council is to agree to your usurpation of Hellébore,” Mahima announced, “but under several conditions.”

“You misunderstand me, Council Leader Ganesh,” Alex replied. “I didn’t come here today to negotiate. My people will be occupying Hellébore, and it will not be a part of the Confederation or New Terra. It will be an independent world.” Alex smiled to himself at the thought of calling their new world “independent.”

“Admiral,” Albert said, “Cetus has been devastated. Your people will starve and your new society will fail. Then what will become of your people?”

“Ser Albert de Guirnon,” Alex replied, “if you believe Cetus is devastated then you won’t begrudge us the Hellébore system. But we won’t fail—not with the technology we will soon have to trade.”

Alex observed the knowing smiles spread across the faces of many of the Council members.
You are so confident we can’t match your vaulted Méridien technology
, Alex thought.

One Council member, though, was not so sure. “Admiral,” Gino Diamanté said and raised a tentative hand a second time.

Alex smiled at the one individual who had the courage to ask questions. “Yes, Leader Diamanté,” Alex said and nodded graciously to him.

“Admiral, would you care to share some details of the technology that you might perfect?” Gino asked, leaning forward onto his row’s table.

“You might have noticed, Ser,” Alex replied, “that the silver ships move without any visible exhaust trail. We’ve learned they’re powered by a form of gravity drive. Within a year, we intend to duplicate their technology, building and selling gravity-driven shuttles and other craft.”

“Impossible!” shouted Albert de Guirnon as he jumped up from his chair. Then he slowly sat back down, embarrassed by his outburst.

The atmosphere in the chambers changed visibly. Members who had been leaning back in their chairs with annoyed faces now began sitting up. Curiosity began replacing disinterest and anger.

Renée sent to Alex.

“We are not unaware of your people’s capability to withhold the truth, even to mislead others with your facts, Admiral,” Mahima said.

“Council Leader Ganesh—” Tomas began before he was cut off.

“Silence!” Mahima said. “This Council still regards you as an Independent, Ser Monti. Therefore, you have no right to speak in our Council Chambers.”

Anger burned through Alex. His fists clenched; his blood pounded. The energy from his implant brought the Council Leader to a halt. She cried out as she grabbed the sides of her head with both hands.

Renée stepped to Alex’s side, pulling on his arm. she sent.

Alex cut his implant stream and Mahima’s relief was evident as she sagged forward on the table. “Never speak to one of my people in that manner again, woman,” Alex ground out through clenched jaws. “And that goes for any of you and your people. I don’t care what you think of us. You will show each and every one of us the same courtesy you would extend to a fellow House Leader.” Alex eyed the members slowly, daring anyone to contradict his challenge.

“Now,” Alex said, turning to Tomas and indicating the audience, “Ser Monti, please continue with what you wanted to say to these good people.”

Tomas glanced between Alex and the rows of Leaders he faced. When Alex smiled at him, he grinned back, straightened his shoulders, and took a couple of steps forward.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Tomas said, nodding toward Alex. “Your graciousness is appreciated.” Turning to his audience, Tomas continued. “Sers, I was about to say that the Admiral is telling you the truth. I hold two silver ships in one of the
Freedom
’s bays. Already, teams of our engineers have been poring over these two specimens and are convinced that we can replicate them. It is only a matter of time before we understand the technology and can produce variations for vessels other than shuttles.”

Not wishing to miss his chance to speak his own mind to the Confederation’s much-vaunted Council, Eric stepped forward as well. “As another Director of House Alexander,” he said, nodding to Tomas, who quite genially returned the pleasantry, “I would go so far as to say that those of you who are interested in purchasing or trading for shuttles that cost little to operate, are noiseless, and can launch and travel the system without using reaction mass, should contact the Admiral’s friend aboard the
Rêveur
.”

“Your pardon, Director Stroheim,” Gino Diamanté asked politely. “Who is this friend we should address if we are interested in this technology?

“Why, Leader Diamanté,” Eric replied, relishing the moment, “that would be the
Rêveur
’s SADE, Julien.”

It took Gino Diamanté only a few moments process Eric’s response. He was well-known among the Council members for his quick mind, and he rapidly assimilated what he had just learned—the Admiral was a leader who demanded courtesy for every one of his people, a people who possessed exciting new technology, and he was a man who called his SADE “friend.”

“Thank you, Director Stroheim,” Diamanté replied, dipping his head and applying hand to heart.

Eric recognized the gesture for what it was and replied in kind, Leader to Leader. He stepped back with Tomas to stand behind Alex.