Cobra Slave-eARC (3 page)

“Then simply tell them charges of treason supersede their charter.”

“I would,” Santores agreed. “Except for one small problem. I asked Captain Moreau to look into it, and it appears that by Dominion law what the Brooms have done isn’t treason.”

Lij Tulu turned to Barrington. “You’re joking.”

“Isis is Cobra, and Cobra is hundred-year-old technology,” Barrington pointed out. “They might as well have given the Qasamans the secret to making iron cannon.”

“But—” Lij Tulu sputtered. “All right, fine. Maybe we can’t grab Lorne Broom and lock him up aboard the Algonquin for a week. But what about six hours? Can I have him for six hours?”

Barrington felt his stomach tighten. There it was: the end game he’d known Lij Tulu would eventually get to. “You’re not serious,” he said.

“Why not?” Lij Tulu shot back. “I can have MindsEye disassembled and brought down here by twenty-two-hundred tonight. We make sure Lorne sticks around overnight, maybe tell him we need another round of hearings tomorrow. If we work through the night we can have everything reassembled and recalibrated by oh-six-hundred. We take him from his quarters, plug him in, and see what we get.”

“What we’ll probably get is a dead Cobra and a furious local government,” Barrington said darkly. “Commodore, you can’t seriously consider such an action.”

“Because your patron wouldn’t approve?” Lij Tulu countered.

“Because it isn’t necessary,” Barrington said. “Not yet. We’re not ready to move yet anyway. There’s time to explore other avenues.”

“Such as?” Lij Tulu demanded. “Don’t misunderstand, Captain, I’m all for doing this the easy way if possible. But you can count on one hand the number of people on Aventine who’ve ever been to Qasama, or have traveled to Qazadi aboard a Troft ship. They’re all the same fingers, and they’re all in the Broom family.”

“Maybe there’s something we haven’t thought of,” Barrington persisted. “Regardless, it wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer before doing something that drastic.”

“In theory, I agree,” Santores said. “But if and when Gendreves is able to force Chintawa into putting the Brooms on trial, we’ll lose even short-term access. The family will be put into detention under Capitalia’s control, and we won’t be able to borrow one of them even for six hours.”

“We will once the trial’s over,” Barrington persisted.

“Only if they’re acquitted,” Lij Tulu countered. “Even if they are, a trial could take months. We can’t afford to wait that long.”

For another moment the room was silent. Barrington forced himself to take deep, slow breaths, thinking furiously. The thought of bringing his patron a report of the deliberate destruction of one of the Moreau family…

But Lij Tulu was right. Santores wanted Qasama, and the only people who might be able to get him there were the Brooms.

And Barrington was sworn to obey his commander’s orders, and the laws and statutes of the Dominion of Man. He could try to talk Santores into a different course of action. But if that failed there was nothing else he could do.

“You say you can have MindsEye ready by morning?” Santores asked.

“Yes, sir,” Lij Tulu confirmed. “Provided I give the order within the next hour.”

“Then do so,” Santores said.

“My patron would object strenuously,” Barrington said, trying one last time.

“Were he here,” Lij Tulu said pointedly.

“Were he here,” Barrington conceded. “In his absence, I wish to go on record as protesting this course of action.”

“So noted,” Santores said. “I presume, Captain, you’ll want to start with Lorne?”

“Yes, sir,” Lij Tulu said. “As I said earlier, his parents in deeper emotional debt to the Qasamans and will therefore have more resistance.” He looked at Barrington. “And of course, his younger age will give him a better chance of surviving the procedure.”

“We know where he is?” Santores asked.

“At his great uncle Corwin Moreau’s house, that little estate thing they call the Island,” Lij Tulu said. “Colonel Reivaro has a car watching him. Shall I have them go in and bring him out?”

“No,” Santores said. There was some reluctance behind his eyes, Barrington could see. But his voice was the rock-solidness of a man who’s made his decision. “No, we’ll let him have a final good meal with his family. Just have the car follow him back to the Dome—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I can’t believe they had the gall to actually name this place the Dome. As if it could ever actually compare. At any rate, have the colonel’s men follow him back here and make sure he settles in.”

“He will,” Lij Tulu promised, his fingers twitching as he made notes into the Algonquin’s data stream. “He certainly has no reason not to. He’s not scheduled to head back to DeVegas until tomorrow.”

“Good,” Santores said. “Once he’s settled back into his quarters, have the colonel inform him that we’ll want him at a closed session tomorrow at oh-six-hundred.”

“Yes, sir,” Lij Tulu said, making a final note. “I’ll arrange for an escort to meet him then and walk him over.”

“Good.” Santores looked at Barrington. “Hopefully, by this time tomorrow we’ll have Qasama’s location.”

“Or else Lorne Broom will be dead,” Barrington said stiffly.

Santores’s lip twitched. “Yes,” he said. “Or else he’ll be dead.”

CHAPTER TWO

“But the weirdest part,” Lorne said around a mouthful of roast sudeer, “was the out-of-the-sky question about the command area on Warrior’s ship.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Jin’s Aunt Thena admonished him mildly.

“Especially when you’re working on your aunt’s cuisine,” Uncle Corwin seconded from the head of the table. “Such works of art deserve your full attention.”

“Right,” Lorne said. “Sorry.” He finished chewing the bite and swallowed. “It really is delicious, Aunt Thena.”

A chorus of agreeing murmurs ran around the table. “Thank you,” Thena said, inclining her head.

Jin blinked back sudden tears. Yes, the roast was good. But it wasn’t like the roasts her eldest son Merrick used to make.

The son she’d left behind on Qasama.

War meant casualties. It meant people dying. She’d known that from the start, from the minute she and Merrick had first seen the shock front of Troft warships skimming across the early-morning Qasaman sky.

Some of those deaths had been quick. Others had been slower, more lingering, more painful. Many more Qasamans had been injured or maimed, some beyond even the ability of the Qasaman doctors to heal. Those victims would carry pain or disability to their graves. For some, their injuries meant those graves would arrive far sooner than they should.

Jin had been prepared for those possibilities, at least as well as anyone ever could be. She’d also been prepared, though not nearly as well, for such a fate to befall herself or Merrick.

What she hadn’t been prepared for was for her son to be taken prisoner by the Trofts, and then to simply disappear.

And the true hell of it was that she had no idea of where he’d been taken. Or, indeed, why.

Her husband Paul was speaking. With an effort, Jin forced her mind back to the conversation. “Yes, Santores threw me a similar question during my testimony,” he said. “In my case, he wanted to know what I knew about navigational systems on Cobra Worlds ships.”

“What did you tell him?” Jody asked from across the table.

Jin focused on her daughter. The question had been an innocent one, delivered in a mostly innocent way.

But there had been something in Jody’s tone. And now, studying her face, Jin could see that there was something going on behind the young woman’s eyes, as well.

“Everything I know, which isn’t much,” Paul said. “Typically, our nav displays show current location, previous location, and the route taken. I know the ship’s computer also stores the locations of all of the Cobra Worlds, plus the main Tlossie, Chriie, and Hoibie trading points. There’s also supposed to be a limited history of recent trips, but I told them I’d never seen one.”

“Did they ask about that last part, or did you just volunteer it?” Jin asked, most of her attention still on Jody. “Seems an odd question.”

“Yes, it was; and yes, they did,” Paul confirmed. “History files were specifically mentioned. My first thought was that they were trying to find where our trading partners’ demesnes were located. But that’s ridiculous. Half the merchants on Aventine know where to find them.”

Corwin cleared his throat. “Actually—and this is all very confidential, so please keep it quiet—”

“If it’s confidential, maybe you should start the quietness by keeping it to yourself,” Paul interrupted quickly. “No offense, but Nissa Gendreves is still pushing hard for that treason trial. There’s no point giving her extra ammunition by passing out state secrets.”

“This isn’t exactly a secret,” Corwin told him. “And under the circumstances, I think you deserve to know. The Dominion isn’t looking for the Tlossies. They’re looking for Qasama.”

“For Qasama?” Jin asked. “What in the Worlds for?”

“I don’t know for certain,” Corwin said. “But Qasama is a lost Dominion colony, and I know that Santores is already talking about bringing the Cobra Worlds’ legal structure back in line with that of the Dominion. You’re welcome to connect the dots however you choose.”

“I don’t think the Qasamans would like the way the Dominion does things,” Jody murmured.

“Oh, I’m quite sure they wouldn’t,” Paul agreed grimly.

“Why don’t they just ask Chintawa for Dome’s records?” Lorne asked. “We’ve made, what, three different trips there?”

“Four, counting your grandfather’s mission to rescue your mother,” Corwin said. “The problem is—and this is where the confidential part comes in—all those records have been expunged.”

Jin felt her mouth drop open. “Expunged?” she echoed, staring in disbelief at her uncle. “I never heard anything about that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“The Council and then-Governor-General Chandler ordered that the plan be kept quiet,” Corwin said. “That veil of secrecy applied even to you.” A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Maybe even especially to you.”

“When did this happen?” Paul asked.

“About three weeks after she returned,” Corwin said. “The Council was terrified that someone would go to Qasama for any of an number of reasons, get himself captured, and that the Qasamans would use his ship and the navigation history files to come charging across space and take their revenge.”

“Which they’d essentially promised to do,” Jin murmured.

“And which the Council of course knew all about,” Corwin agreed. “So when the suggestion was made that Dome ban travel to Qasama and eliminate all records of its location, they jumped at the chance.”

“Well, that was brilliantly forethoughtful,” Lorne growled. “Whose clever idea was that?”

Corwin raised his eyebrows slightly. “Mine.”

For a moment the room was silent. “And your reasoning?” Paul asked calmly.

“They were terrified of the Qasamans,” Corwin said. “And rightfully so, at least if you looked at what had happened from the Qasamans’ point of view. But that kind of terror doesn’t last forever. Sooner or later, whether it was this Council or the next, I knew that someone would eventually find themselves unable to resist the temptation to again go mess with the place.”

He looked at Jin. “I knew how much Daulo Sammon and his family meant to you, Jin. How much the people there meant to you. So I used the Council’s fear to make sure we would never bother them again.”

There was another silence, a longer one this time. “The search of my quarters last night,” Lorne said at last. “They weren’t looking for incriminating evidence. They were hoping I had some data on Qasama.”

“Probably,” Corwin agreed. “I assume you don’t have anything?”

“No, nothing,” Lorne assured him. “I just wish I’d known they were coming. I could have put together a package with enough random numbers to keep them searching for the next hundred years.”

“Just as well you didn’t,” Jin said. “It’s dangerous to play with a screech tiger. Especially one that’s already this mad at us.”

“They can be as mad as they want,” Lorne said flatly. “I don’t really care.” He snorted a sudden laugh. “You know the really fun part? The only way Santores is going to get to Qasama now will be to ask the Tlossies for directions.”

“That irony hadn’t escaped me,” Corwin said. “Though I doubt the commodore is in the mood to appreciate it.”

“I just hope the Tlossies don’t give in to any such requests,” Thena said, a shiver running through her. “After what the Qasamans have been through, they don’t deserve to be invaded again. Even if it’s from their own people.”

“Especially if it’s from their own people,” Corwin said. “And with that, this line of conversation is officially at an end. New house rule: when the discussion starts making Thena uncomfortable, it gets changed.”

“I like that rule,” Jin said, giving Jody a final surreptitious look. Sure enough, with the promise that the topic was about to change, some of the tension had left her daughter’s face.

But only some of it. What was she hiding, Jin wondered, that she didn’t want the others to know?

“Sounds good to me,” Lorne seconded. “Dad, I notice you’re hogging all the extra glaze sauce at that end of the table. How about sending the bowl back this way?”

#

Jody had made her decision right after dinner, as she and Lorne were gathering the dishes and taking them to the kitchen.

But she knew better than to say anything about it then. Nor did she say anything as they all dug into the cake Thena had prepared for dessert. Not until they were all gathered by the front door, saying their good-byes, did she drop the bombshell.

“If you don’t mind, Dad,” she said, “could you and Mom just take Lorne back? I’d like to stay and talk to Uncle Corwin for a few minutes. I can get a cab home.”

She braced herself, waiting for the inevitable flood of questions and concerns. But to her surprise, her parents just looked at each other and then back at her. “Sure,” Paul said.

“And no cab needed—we’ll take her home,” Corwin added.

“Great,” Paul said before Jody could protest. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Jody?”