The Lost Stars: Tarnished Knight

Togo consulted the definition. “President describes the position as preeminent and is nonspecific as to the source of authority. It has been used for leaders of entities ranging from absolute dictatorships to societies so populist that they are only one step removed from total anarchy. Calling you the President may be a good choice.”

“President Iceni.” She tried out the title, saying it slowly. “The President, because there are no others. I do like that.”

“May I be the first to congratulate you, President Iceni?” Togo said.

“You may. Let’s go see General Drakon.”

* * *

THE office building holding the secure conference rooms which had once belonged to the ISS had a nondescript façade. It had no sign or other identification beyond the street number and could have hosted any of a thousand kinds of modest businesses. The ISS had always displayed that two-faced approach to the outside universe. On the one hand, omnipresent and obvious surveillance systems, and headquarters or regional command centers that were large and clear signs of the power and presence of the snakes. On the other hand, lesser facilities hidden in places where they would least be expected, and other surveillance systems designed to be undetectable except by the most sophisticated equipment. The citizens of the Syndicate Worlds had always known that the ISS was there, but they had never known just where the ISS was, making for a powerful mix of justified fear and paranoia.

Inside the offices, though, the snakes had spared no expense. Iceni strolled past the plush furnishings to stand before a floor-to-ceiling virtual window giving a view on a gorgeous stretch of beach. She might have actually been standing near the sand, hearing the muffled, rhythmic roar of the surf on the other side of an actual window. The primary world of the Midway Star System, usually also called Midway, had a lot of beaches, but the nearest of those was over twenty kilometers from this building. Iceni doubted that this view was that of the nearest shoreline. The position of the sun appeared to be about an hour off, and the beach had the looks of one of the many archipelagoes that dotted the surface of Midway the planet, perhaps one of the island chains the ISS had declared off-limits to others so that the snakes could enjoy recreation there with privacy. The small continent on which the city was located, and which was the only other landmass boasted by the planet, had plenty of nice beaches, too; but they almost always had visitors on them since that was one of the few recreations for common citizens that the Syndicate Worlds hadn’t found a way to limit.

The door opened and Drakon entered, followed by two other soldiers. Togo, already seated at the gleaming conference table, murmured subvocally into his mike, and Iceni heard the words clearly through her own pickup. “Bran Malin and Roh Morgan. General Drakon has converted their sub-CEO ranks to colonel. They are his closest and most trusted advisers.”

Drakon nodded to Iceni. “All bodyguards outside? Good. Do you object to my two aides being here?”

“Not if you don’t object to my assistant,” Iceni replied, moving back to the table and taking a seat next to Togo. She surreptitiously examined Drakon’s aides as she did so. Unlike Togo, who at nearly fifty standard years old was both physically fit and very experienced, both Malin and Morgan were relatively young, perhaps in their late twenties or early thirties. They appeared to be about the same age. But both seemed to be confident and comfortable in the unpretentious way of people who really knew their job well.

The door sealed behind Drakon and a string of green lights flashed into life above it, indicating security systems active to prevent any intrusions or surveillance. He took a chair opposite Iceni, one colonel sitting to either side of him. “Here’s where we are right now,” Drakon began without further preamble. “I’ve got control of the surface and confirmed control of every important facility off the planet as well. My people are still conducting sweeps to ensure that no snakes are running loose on any of the islands. Until we complete those and make sure the populace is settled, I don’t have a lot of personnel to spare. The main mobile forces facility at the gas giant is under my control, but they’re afraid to blink because they say the mobile forces there are still controlled by snakes.”

“That matches the communications I have received from heavy cruiser C-625,” Iceni said. “It is possible that the other warships there, one light cruiser and three Hunter-Killers, are still commanded by their own officers, but the snakes on those units must be alert and will not be easily overcome.”

“Will they knock out the facility?”

“I don’t think so,” Iceni said. “It’s a very valuable facility to whoever controls this star system, and they have no orders from superiors to do so. I believe they will soon head for the hypernet gate to report on events here to the government at Prime.”