Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

“Bran,” Drakon said with some heat, “I am enormously grateful for your work, but there’s no need to bait Morgan about it.”

“Anything I said would be considered baiting by her, sir. I guarantee you that she feels enraged at having failed to spot a danger to you before I did. Morgan cannot accept that I succeeded where she did not.”

“You’d both better keep it professional, understand?” Drakon said, wondering if the rivalry had reached the point where he would have to break up the pair despite their usefulness, and their apparent loyalty, to him.

“It is a shame,” Rogero commented in a neutral voice, “that Ito died before she could lead us to the other covert snakes hidden in this star system.”

Malin shook his head. “I am beginning to strongly suspect that there are no other covert snakes in this star system.”

“No other snakes?” Drakon demanded. “Then who has been behind the attacks, the spying, and the other things we’ve experienced?”

“I am still trying to learn that, General. And we certainly can’t rule out more snakes among the survivors of the Reserve Flotilla. But what I have found is that often the way the things we have experienced have been done is contrary to snake procedures, except when something is done so clumsily it is certain to be detected. And then the snake procedures are followed to the letter.”

“By someone who wants us to think they’re a snake?” Rogero asked.

“Yes.” Malin looked at Drakon. “No, I don’t suspect Morgan in all of it. There are probably multiple players in this game, which has confused the tracks no end. For example, I know that Morgan would not target you. Nor have I seen any sign that she is targeting Captain Bradamont. But someone is trying to conduct preattack surveillance on Bradamont, and the last assassination attempt on you was dead serious.”

Rogero turned on Malin. “Why haven’t I been told?”

“Because I don’t have anything that adds up to certainty of another attack or the identity of whoever is behind it,” Malin explained. “And, Captain Bradamont is being appropriately careful of her personal safety.”

“Yes,” Rogero agreed reluctantly. “The mob attack on the freighter drove home to her that even in a supposedly safe environment, she can be in danger.”

“Who is targeting me, then?” Drakon asked. “That assassination attempt by those People’s Word fanatics had snake fingerprints on it, didn’t it?”

“I’m not sure of that, sir,” Malin explained. “We were meant to think that, but I have been considering the matter.” He walked to one wall, where an illustration of the star system hung, providing both decoration and useful prop. Malin pointed to the image of the planet they were on. “That attack on you, and the subsequent security actions, effectively wiped out The People’s Word organization. The leaders were killed or forced to resign, the most fervent believers died in the attack, and most of the members scattered to less radical organizations. The entire agenda of The People’s Word was discredited for the citizens by its involvement in the attack on you. If you were a snake, and you wished this star system to be politically destabilized, wouldn’t you want something like The People’s Word to be strengthened rather than eliminated? To grow stronger and challenge the authority of both you and President Iceni?”

Drakon came up beside Malin, narrowing his eyes as he thought, his gaze on the image of the planet. “That’s a really good point. Those People’s Word types were already causing some disruption in the planned elections. Getting rid of them benefited me and President Iceni.” He looked over at Malin. “Though getting rid of them could have also involved my death. Are you implying that the President was behind that whole thing?”

“No, sir. I am certain she was not,” Malin said forcefully. “But that does not rule out someone in her camp.”

“Or someone who wants you to think she was behind it,” Rogero suggested.

“Or someone who wants her to think you are trying to frame her,” Malin added.

Drakon’s laugh was no more than a bitter snort. “I get it. We’ve still got no idea. But if you’re concluding that whoever is behind all of this is not a snake, no matter which particular incident we’re talking about, then President Iceni needs to be told. I’ll do that. Colonel Rogero, you get with Captain Bradamont and make sure she understands that someone is still after her. She might want to know about Ito, too.”

“And me, General?” Malin asked.

“Just try to avoid Morgan for a while.”

Gwen Iceni offered Drakon a seat before her desk, her hand in the midst of indicating the seat twisting for a moment into a sign whose meaning she hoped he would recognize.

Someone may be listening.

They were in her office, the most secure place under Iceni’s personal authority, but some instinct warned her that even here speaking freely could be dangerous. She hadn’t felt that way before, but it had been growing on her. Was it justifiable caution or real paranoia?

Drakon sat down, his eyes on her, his first words indicating that he had seen and recognized the hand sign. “I know there are a lot of things we shouldn’t talk about,” he began in a conversational tone, “because we can’t trust anyone.”

“No,” Iceni agreed. “We can’t trust anyone.”

“But there are some people I distrust a lot less than others.” He looked toward the virtual window behind Iceni’s desk, a window currently set to show a beach on the planet, the waves rushing up the sand and back again into the ocean in an endless rhythm. “Didn’t that used to show the city?”

“I changed it,” Iceni said. “Sometimes I find myself liking things that I never expected to.”

He looked back at her, watching Iceni for a moment before speaking again. If only I could know what you were really thinking, Artur Drakon.

“I’m here to let you know,” Drakon said, “that even though I’ve been the target of the last two assassination attempts, there are reasons to believe you are also still being targeted.”

Instead of any fear, Iceni felt a sense of weariness filling her. “Of course. Does it ever end?”

“Beats the hell out of me. I also don’t know who is doing the targeting, but my staff believes that more than one party is involved, with more than one set of goals.”

“Interesting.” Malin already passed me that information this morning. I wondered what he would tell Drakon, but I’m no longer surprised that Drakon shared the information with me. I wish I knew exactly why he was doing it. “Who besides the snakes?”

His hand made a negating sign. “I don’t know.”

Not snakes? Malin had passed the same conclusion to her. But that had been before Ito had tried to kill Drakon, and Ito had snake all over her. “You once apologized to me for not sharing information. Now I must… apologize… to you.” That word was very hard to get out. “My people were supposed to have screened out any threats. Instead, I let an assassin get within reach of you.”

How had Togo been so careless? She had grown to count on his ruthless efficiency. She had grown to count on it too much.

But why had Malin said nothing to her about his suspicions regarding Ito? Why make such a public demonstration of Togo’s failure and his own effectiveness?

Or perhaps that had been the point of the whole display.

“We need to talk again later,” Iceni said. “There are some things I need to check on.”

“All right.” Drakon stood up. “Gwen… stay safe.”

“Don’t get all sentimental on me, General,” she chided him. “You might make me wonder what you’re up to.”