The Oncoming Storm (52 page)

“I’m sorry for taking you away from your work, Commander,” Major Rogers said. He was a typical intelligence officer, wearing a uniform without any rank markings or other insignia, his face so bland as to be completely unnoticeable. “But we do have to talk to you.”

“It’s fine,” William said numbly. They’d returned to Gamma Base only to hear that three more attack fleets had crossed the border. Hebrides, his homeworld, was under enemy occupation. He had no idea what had happened to his remaining family. Their great victory now seemed like a sham. “What can I do for you?”

“Your captain recommended you for promotion and your own command,” Rogers said. “But we need you—and your connections—for something else.”

William nodded, unsurprised. He’d expected his links to a smuggler gang to be either exploited or used against him. Now that the war had broken out, it was quite possible that someone in intelligence thought they could make use of his family connections, with threats of dishonorable discharges if he refused to cooperate. He had left it out of his file, after all.

“Yes,” he said. He was damned if he was calling this young officer sir. “What do you want me to do for you?”

“We have an operation in the planning stages, with the intent to launch once the war front settles down,” Rogers said. “Your brother may be able to assist us.”

“You’ll have to pay him through the nose,” William warned. The captain had massively overpaid Scott for what he’d offered, although he had to admit it had paid off for her. “He doesn’t have any sense of loyalty to anyone.”

Rogers lifted his eyebrows in pretend shock. “Even his own brother?”

“He’s a smuggler,” Williams pointed out tartly. “Family loyalty is not considered something to sell or buy, thus he wants nothing to do with it.”

“I see,” Rogers said. “And he won’t help you for free?”

William shook his head.

“Then we will find something to offer him,” Rogers said. “A reward to match the risk we expect him to take. His crimes wiped, perhaps; the chance to go legit after the war. Does that sound worthwhile?”

“Yes,” William said flatly. “But you will need to be careful. Scott is not a very trusting person.”

“Understood,” Rogers said. He stood. “We’ll contact you when ready, Commander. And good luck with your ship.”

He walked out of the compartment, leaving William alone.

It was clear what he wanted from Scott, William considered. Navigational data for Theocratic space, perhaps even assistance in linking up with underground movements already within the Theocracy. And then . . . William knew better than to expect Scott to put his life on the line for the Commonwealth. Rogers would probably have to arrange for starships to enter Theocratic space and start raiding behind the lines. They might tie down some local defenders and give the Theocracy some major supply problems.

Shaking his head, William rose to his feet. That was all in the future, if anything came of it at all. Until then, he had work to do.

“This seems very exposed,” Kat said as she sat down facing her father’s seat. Her implants reported more than a hundred privacy fields in the dining hall. “Is this a good place to meet?”

Her father was staring out of the window, peering out over Tyre City. After a long moment, he turned to face her. Kat was struck by the change in his appearance in the five months since they’d last met, before she’d assumed command of Lightning. He looked older, although she couldn’t have said why. Perhaps it was something in his bearing, she told herself. He’d been over sixty when his wife had given birth to his youngest daughter.

“It’s important to show people we’re not worried,” Lucas Falcone said finally. “And we are far from alone.”

Kat glanced round the dining hall, catching sight of two more dukes, several minor aristocracy, the third space lord, a number of society reporters and . . .

“Is that the king?”

“Indeed it is,” her father said. His voice was very grave. “And I believe you will recognize the woman with him.”

Kat felt her eyes narrow. “Princess Drusilla,” she said. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“Officially, His Majesty intends to use her as a tool when the Theocracy is finally defeated,” her father informed her. “Unofficially . . . she’s taken up residence in the Royal Palace and they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

Kat shook her head in disbelief. “The security issues alone . . .”

“His Majesty has always been a stubborn man,” her father said. “And, as far as anyone can tell, she’s clean. No implants, no direct conditioning, no brainwashing . . . she’s quite ignorant in many ways, but she doesn’t seem dangerous.”

Kat frowned, then turned back to her father. “Why did you ask me to come here?”

“You’re quite the hero,” her father said. “Your presence here will be as reassuring as his.”

“Oh,” Kat said.

The media had been harassing her since Lightning had returned to Tyre, the ship so badly damaged that it would need at least two months in the yards before she was fit to return to active service. Kat had been told she was considered young, beautiful, glamorous, competent, and valiant. But she also knew that none of those things staved off missile fire.

She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. “And is there another reason for us to meet here?”

Her father smiled. “We could always discuss your romantic life,” he said. “I note that you and young Davidson have been sharing an apartment . . .”

Kat flushed. After Second Cadiz, all the objections to having a relationship no longer seemed even remotely valid. They could both die at any moment. She’d taken him into her cabin as soon as he’d returned to Lightning, then moved into an apartment on Tyre with him. It wasn’t a relationship she knew her family would approve of—Davidson had nothing to offer the Falcone Consortium—but she didn’t care. She had her own career now.

And it was none of her father’s business.

“No,” she snapped. “I don’t want to talk about my romantic life.”

“As you wish,” her father said without taking offense. “There is another issue, then.”

He leaned forward, as if he wished to whisper despite the privacy fields. “I still don’t know who was backing Admiral Morrison.”

Kat shook her head. “Who could hide his manipulations from you?”

“Someone with as much power and influence as myself,” her father said grimly. “I believe someone wanted to ensure that there was no chance of a war—or further expansion by force—and chose Admiral Morrison to serve as his agent. He could be relied upon to do nothing more than party on Cadiz. Politically, it’s understandable.”

“They crossed the line into outright treason,” Kat muttered. “Even if their first piece of reasoning was sound, the whole scheme was failing as war came closer and closer, no matter what we did.”

“Indeed,” her father agreed. “But that also gives them a great deal of incentive to bury their tracks.”

Kat couldn’t disagree. Political manipulation for tactical advantage was common within the aristocracy, but this had almost cost the Commonwealth the war in its opening stages. If the people behind Admiral Morrison had intended to commit treason—and she couldn’t imagine how they benefited—they would have covered their tracks very well. But they would have done the same if the war had been a horrendous accident. Hundreds of thousands dead, four worlds under enemy occupation, nearly sixty starships destroyed . . . someone would have to take the blame. And even for a duke, it would be catastrophic.

She turned and looked round the dining hall. Was she sitting in the same room as the traitor—or the useful idiot? There was no way to know.

“The war will continue,” her father said. “The declaration of war has seen to that, I believe.”

Kat nodded. The king’s speech to his people had been magnificent. He’d warned there would be hardships ahead, that there would be many dark days to come, but concluded by informing his subjects that there was no doubt the Commonwealth would eventually emerge victorious from the fires of war. The Theocracy was powerful and dangerous, yet it was far from invincible. Second Cadiz had proved that beyond a doubt.

“We will win,” she said. “Their system wasn’t designed for a major war.”

“Neither was ours,” her father pointed out. “But I believe we have a larger workforce, a greater technological base, and a far larger merchant marine. We have advantages we should be able to use to win.”

Assuming our theories about the Theocracy are correct, Kat thought silently. Few of the defectors or POWs from Cadiz had been able to tell the interrogators anything useful. But nothing we’ve seen suggests the Theocracy is geared up to fight a long war.

“And we can hardly back away,” she added. “They won’t let us come to any agreement, other than outright submission.”

“True,” her father agreed.

He leaned back in his chair, then met her eyes. “I’m proud of you, Katherine.”

“But not proud enough to call me by my chosen name,” Kat said. Still, she couldn’t help feeling warm inside at his obvious pride. “Or to avoid using me to do your dirty work.”

Her father nodded, then waved to the waitress. “Order whatever you want,” he said. “Tomorrow . . . I’m afraid Candy wants you.”

Kat sighed. Her sister had been holding society balls to encourage aristocrats to support the war since the lockdown on Tyre had come to an end. Kat wasn’t sure who her sister thought she was fooling, but she doubted the Theocracy was remotely intimidated. The Commonwealth had already made a massive commitment to support the war.

“I have work to do,” she said quickly.

“Tough,” her father said. “The party itself will be worthless, of course, but there will be some . . . private discussion in the back
rooms. Your advice would be welcome.”

“Yes, Father,” Kat said. She took the menu the waitress handed her, then skimmed through it, rolling her eyes. Everything on the list seemed to have been renamed with a victory theme, as if it was a vital contribution towards winning the war. “I’ll have the Victorious Curry with Starship Rice.”

Her father laughed. “Some people are trying to help,” he said. “But . . .”

“It isn’t very helpful,” Kat said.

“Keeping people calm is our first priority,” her father said. He nodded towards the giant window. “Panic down there will make it harder to fight the war.”

He took a breath. “I wish you weren’t fighting the war,” he said. He pointed to the medal on her chest. “You’ve proved yourself, Katherine. You thoroughly deserved the Royal Lion. And you don’t have to go back to the front lines . . .”

“Yes, I do,” Kat said. She knew her father could pull strings to put her at a desk instead of a command chair, but she was damned if she was going to let him. “It’s my duty.”

End of Book One

2030–2050—Return to the moon. Establishment of American, Japanese, European, Chinese, and Russian mining bases. Fusion power enters widespread service on Earth. Long-range missions are dispatched to Mars, Titan, and Jupiter. Collapse of Middle East, third world as resources start flowing in from space. Development of quasi-fascist governments in US/EU.

2051–2053—NATO-Chinese War over settlements on the moon. War ends with the collapse of China and NATO hegemony in orbit and beyond.

2054–2108—Large-scale settlement across the solar system. Hundreds of asteroids are settled, some independent, others closely linked to founding corporations, religious bodies, or governments. Fascist states evolve, but still see mass emigration of young and smart people who want to live free. UN grows in power, slowly bringing more and more failed states back into the global mainstream.

2109–2112—Professor Richard Anderson develops the first prototype hyperdrive. Exploration starships set out at once, only to discover that navigating hyperspace is far from easy. Eventually, very limited beacons are devised to allow navigation from Earth and an eventual safe transit to a new star.

2113–2180—Discovery of nineteen life-bearing worlds within range of Earth. First Expansion Era begins, with national power blocks claiming and settling worlds. UN creates first large-scale navigational service, constantly monitoring the storms and freak shifts in hyperspace that could make the difference between a successful transit or disaster.