Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

“My,” Admiral Mason said drolly. “And you feel that this stroke of luck makes up for disobeying orders?”

“Yes, sir,” Roman said. “If I had chosen to ignore the wrecked ship, or blown the pirate craft into atoms, we wouldn’t have had such an intelligence windfall drop into our laps.”

“True,” Admiral Mason agreed. He leaned forward, his dark eyes fixed on Roman’s face. “I think you’d better tell me what you found.”

Roman kept his face impassive. Had the admiral not read his report, or was he intent on giving Roman enough rope to hang himself with? Or was he just testing how his youngest captain handled himself under pressure?

“Admiral Justinian and Governor Hartkopf—he now styles himself Governor-General Hartkopf—are on the verge of concluding an alliance,” Roman said. That, at least, hadn’t been hard to discover. “The liner we discovered, the one that was attacked and pillaged by the pirates, was carrying the negotiating team to discuss the final terms of the treaty. It was also carrying”—and here he knew he was venturing into dangerous waters—”the admiral’s daughter. She was to be given to Hartkopf in marriage.”

Admiral Mason stroked his chin, thoughtfully. “Curious,” he said finally. “I was under the impression that Hartkopf was already married.”

“I looked it up,” Roman said. “His wife was on the list of proscribed personages after the governor abandoned his claims of loyalty to the Federation. She may already be dead, executed by the Senate. In any case, they were not on speaking terms, and she was on Earth with her lover when her husband declared independence.”

He smiled inwardly at the admiral’s expression. It had been Blake Raistlin who’d introduced him to the underground news-sheets that followed Earth’s political elite and their children, turning their doings into entertainment for the rest of the Federation. Roman was hardly a prude—RockRats were rarely prudes—but some of their activities shocked even him. Mistress Hartkopf had not only cheated on her husband, she’d blatantly flaunted her many affairs all over Earth when the war began. Roman could easily understand how the Governor-General might prefer a nubile teenage girl as a wife…and if his own wife was dead, so much the better. High Society tended to frown on bigamy, much to his surprise. It wasn’t as if it frowned on many other deviant behaviors.

“It makes sense,” Admiral Mason said slowly. He sounded as if having a tooth pulled out would be preferable to agreeing with Roman. “Admiral Justinian doesn’t have much to offer that would actually prove his sincerity, but his daughter…yes, that makes sense. She’d be a hostage for her father’s good behavior as well as an incentive for Hartkopf to cooperate. And besides, it isn’t like he has much else in the way of legitimacy…”

“Sir?” Roman blinked.

“The Federation Senate is the elected government of the Federation,” Admiral Mason said. “That very fact alone gives it legitimacy in the eyes of trillions of human beings, even those who hate and fear the Federation’s power. Admiral Justinian, on the other hand, is a usurper. He has to rely on force and persuasion, threats and blandishments, to encourage people to cooperate with him.”

“But humans have always been willing to follow monarchies in times of hardship,” he added, eyes narrowing. “I wonder if Admiral Justinian intends to declare himself Emperor of Humanity? If so, Hartkopf would have a chance to become Emperor himself, or father the Heir to the Throne. In any case, your reckless disregard of your orders seems to have given us an opportunity. How best, I wonder, to make use of it?”

He looked up suddenly. “The daughter,” he said. “What happened to her?”

Roman had, luckily, prepared for the question. There had been no way to hide the fact that Henrietta had been on the liner, not without arranging for the other prisoners to suffer an unfortunate accident. No one knew, apart from Elf and himself, that she was still alive and on the Midway . And, if he wanted to keep her safe, the admiral must never be allowed to find out.

“The pirates captured her,” he said truthfully. There had been no way to hide that either, even though only a couple of pirates had known her identity and they’d both been killed during the brief confrontation, shot down by their own men. “We have been unable to locate her corpse. They may have handed her over to another ship that escaped detection, or they may simply have killed her and pushed the body out of the airlock.”

“Shame,” Admiral Mason commented. “It would have been nice to hand her over to the Senate along with the other prisoners.”

“Sir,” Roman said slowly, “I think we shouldn’t do anything too hastily.”

Admiral Mason lifted a single eyebrow, daring Roman to proceed further. “We’re talking about men from the admiral’s inner circle,” Roman explained. “The level of intelligence they could give us would be very helpful…”

“ONI would get to interrogate them first, before they were handed over for execution,” Admiral Mason pointed out.

“And there is also the possibility of sowing the seeds of suspicion and distrust between the two warlords,” Roman said. He’d thought about little else since they’d started their flight to the Marx System, and then back to The Hive. “What if we attempted to convince Admiral Justinian that the pirates weren’t pirates at all, but Hartkopf’s forces?”

“And why, exactly, should Hartkopf decide to start a war with his fellow warlord?” Admiral Mason sneered. “Where is the logic in that?”

“Hartkopf knows—he must know—that if he allied with Admiral Justinian, he would always be the junior partner.” Roman smiled. “According to the negotiators, Admiral Justinian was prepared to concede autonomy to Hartkopf, but very little else. What if we convinced Justinian that Hartkopf made a deal with the Federation, and arranged for the negotiating team to fall into our hands?”

“A turncoat can never be trusted, for he turned his coat once,” Admiral Mason said thoughtfully. “It isn’t as if your scenario is impossible, I suppose. On the other hand, captain , the inhabitants of the Marx System could have told you a few things about relying on too complex a plan. How many things do you think could go wrong?”

Roman nodded towards the holographic display, showing the nearby stars and Asimov Points.

“Sir, with all due respect, if the two warlords join forces, we will be hard pressed to defend the Federation’s flank. The prisoners have confirmed that the treaty has already been drawn up and only awaits a royal marriage to seal it. I respectfully submit that anything that has a chance of disrupting that alliance is worth trying. We could hardly be in a worse position.”

“Why is it,” Admiral Mason enquired, “that when a person says ‘with all due respect,’ they mean without any respect at all?” He held up a hand before Roman could try to answer. “Never mind, captain. Very well; I concede your point. Now, how do you intend to turn our two enemies against one another?”

Roman had spent days thinking about the possibilities.

“Sir, Admiral Justinian has the Marx Asimov Point heavily fortified, but they have only a limited mobile component,” he said. “We have the firepower necessary to blow that mobile component to hell and gone.”

“Right,” Admiral Mason agreed. “And assuming that I agreed to take the risk of direct confrontation with his forces—which, may I remind you, we were ordered to avoid if possible—what would it gain us?”

“We use our ECM to pretend to be from Hartkopf’s forces,” Roman said. “We demand a meeting well away from the Asimov Point and wait until the enemy cruisers come into firing range, at which point they’ll open fire. We use the face of one of the prisoners to convince them to come up fat and happy.”