Christopher Nuttall - The Trafalgar Gambit

But they may get New Russia back anyway , James thought. The final negotiations with the aliens had hinted that they might abandon New Russia, purely to disarm the remaining elements of the War Faction. At that point… the Russians would reassert their claim to the system and, with so many people on the planet’s surface, they’d probably win. And who knows what will happen then ?

“Perhaps, Uncle,” he said, finally. “And what of your plan to leave the system to die?”

“We may send the ships out anyway,” Uncle Winchester said. “Who knows what we will encounter in the future? It might be a sensible idea to have a hidden colony or two, some distance from the rest of humanity.”

“And stake a claim before the official borders wash over the system,” James pointed out, snidely. “It might be workable.”

“Indeed it might,” Uncle Winchester said. “And congratulations, Admiral Fitzwilliam.”

James sighed. The Admiralty had been coming under fire for failing to dispatch the relief mission in time to save Ark Royal . It was irritating — for once, it wasn’t the bureaucrats fault — but they’d tried to make up for it by handing promotions out to the survivors like confetti at a wedding. James was now the youngest Admiral in the Royal Navy and charged with taking command of the multinational fleet guarding the border worlds. It wasn’t a job he particularly wanted.

“Thank you, Uncle,” he said. “And have you made the arrangements I wanted?”

“I have,” Uncle Winchester said. “No one could deny you anything, not now. I would suggest you start looking for a wife. Quite a few young ladies were introduced to London during the last season. One of them would be interested.”

“No, thank you,” James said. “I don’t want a young wife.”

He scowled. “Did you complete the arrangements exactly as specified?”

“Yes,” his uncle said. “If there had been a problem, young man, I would have told you.”

James nodded. “I think Admiral Smith would have approved of that ,” he said. “And I thank you for your assistance.”

He shook his uncle’s hand, then walked to the door and headed down the stairs. Outside, rain was lashing down on London, a mocking reminder that the end of the war hadn’t brought a return to the days before the war. Even now, millions of civilians squatted in refugee camps, while hundreds of thousands more had been conscripted into labour battalions and sent out to help shore up the defences. It would be years before Britain returned to normal.

Ignoring the water dripping down his uniform, he walked through the half-empty streets until he entered Hyde Park. The refugee camp that had been established there was gone, now; the grass was so sodden with water that it was almost a marsh in its own right. But the government had insisted on placing the memorial there, right in the heart of London. A giant piece of hull metal, scorched and battered by the alien weapon that had blasted it away from Ark Royal , sat on the ground, etched with names. They’d wanted to build a whole new Nelson’s Column, James knew, for Admiral Smith. And they would, one day.

But this will do , James thought, as he stopped in front of the hull and ran his eyes down the list of names. Three thousand crewmen had died on Operation Trafalgar, starting with a handful of pilots he’d barely known and ending with ADMIRAL THEODORE SMITH. He felt a moment of bitter Survivor’s Guilt as he saw other names; Commander Williams, Commander Rose Labara, Commander Kurt Schneider, Major Charles Parnell…

He shook his head. No one knew, outside a handful of government officials, just what had happened to Commander Schneider. The Russians would keep their mouths shut, he knew, if only to avoid a full disclosure of everything that had happened on the Old Lady’s final mission. His children would never know that some people considered their father a traitor. It would certainly never be allowed to affect their lives.

“I’m sorry, Admiral,” he said, looking back at the Admiral’s name. “You deserved better.”

He carefully unbuckled the Victoria Cross from his uniform and looked down at it. Admiral Smith had wound up with medals from almost every nation on Earth, after Ark Royal’s first cruise. Now, they were stored in the Imperial War Museum. One day, when the world was normal again, people would flock to see them and hear about the adventures of HMS Ark Royal . He wondered, sardonically, if they’d ever learn that the Admiral had beaten the demon drink as well as the aliens. Or would the slate be washed clean?

Carefully, he placed the medal beside the hull fragment, then turned and walked away.

“You can’t be serious!”

Henry allowed himself a smirk. God! He hated Victor Forsyth. The man was a PR hack, dedicated to making the Royal Family look good at all times. He might have been more tolerable if he hadn’t also insisted that Henry bow, scrape and grovel whenever there was the slightest hint of controversy. After watching Ark Royal die, Henry was damned if he was apologising for anything ever again, no matter who got their panties in a bunch. And he no longer cared about what it did to the Monarchy. It was, after all, nothing less than child abuse to have someone like Forsyth make him feel guilty for everything. Regular beatings would have been kinder.

“I’m very much afraid that I am,” he said, dryly. It was wrong of him, but he revelled in Forsyth’s shock. “I’ve already packed my personal possessions. And I’ve also written a speech. Do you like it?”

“You can’t go up in front of the media and say that,” Forsyth objected. “It would do inestimable harm to the country! People’s confidence would be shattered…”

Henry waved a hand around to indicate the luxurious room. “I don’t think they’d be amused to discover that people like you and I were still living in luxury when half the country is starving,” he said. “And let’s be honest, shall we? That is precisely what we are doing.”

He stood. “I’ve explained everything to my father,” he added. “And while he isn’t too pleased, he understands. I’ll be leaving London tomorrow and I won’t return.”

Winchester cleared his throat. “Perhaps we could arrange a compromise, Your Highness,” he said. “There are ways we can appease both sides of the issue.”

“There’s no room for compromise,” Henry said. He ticked off points on his fingers as he spoke. “I do not want to be part of the Royal Family any longer. I don’t want my fiancée or my children to be part of the Royal Family. I…”

“Janelle Lopez has her duties to the Royal Navy,” Forsyth said. “She might not be allowed to resign…”

Henry smirked. “You do realise you’re talking about a heroine, one of the few people to know Admiral Smith and survive? I dare say the media would be very interested if you tried to pressure her.”

Forsyth blanched. “But…”

“But what?” Henry demanded. “You kept me here through ties of love and loyalty and patriotism. I still love my family, but I see no reason to surrender the rest of my life to become a figurehead for the government and the country. What could I possibly do to show the people that the Royal Family is part of them that will outshine almost dying in the final battle of the war?”

He snorted. “And stop trying to appeal to my loyalty,” he added. “I got sick of it after they took photographs of me on the toilet as a young boy. If it had been anyone else, you assholes, the reporter would have been charged with taking indecent pictures of children and slapped in jail. But for me… the bastard got away with it scot free.”