forces to do anything but defend it.'
'Are you suggesting we abandon the people of Brahmin II, to be turned into monstrosities?' said Gutman. 'I don't think the Empire would stand for that.'
'Why not?' said Owen. 'Isn't that what you were proposing to do with the people of the Rim planets? Sacrificing the few in the name of the many? But no, Gutman, I'm not suggesting we write off Brahmin II's population, if only because the Hadenmen might eventually create a whole new army out of them. Hazel and I will go to Brahmin II, alone, and see what we can do to rectify the situation. Because I am, after all, responsible.'
'Hold everything,' said Hazel. 'When did I volunteer to go on this suicide run?'
'Well, you don't want to miss out on all the fun, do you?'
'There is that,' said Hazel. 'I just like to be asked, that's all.'
'The House gratefully accepts your proposal,' said Gutman. 'And wishes you all good fortune. Because you're going to need it. Is this acceptable to you, General Beckett?'
'Damn right,' said Beckett. 'It's his mess; let him clean it up. But just in case they fail, we'd better consider the practicalities of scorching the whole damn planet, and hope we get as many of the inhuman bastards as possible before they can escape. Beckett out.'
The viewscreen disappeared, taking Beckett with it. Parliament muttered quietly among itself. Gutman smiled down at Owen, who braced himself. Something bad was coming his way. He could just feel it. Gutman leaned forward, his voice entirely reasonable. 'But before you leave us, sir Deathstalker, we feel there are a few questions we would like answered, concerning the various war criminals this House has sent you after. We can't help noticing that you do tend to bring them in dead rather than alive.'
'For some reason they don't seem to think they'll get a fair trial here on Golgotha,' said Owen. 'The fact that not one accused war criminal has been found innocent by these trials of yours has not escaped them. So, not unexpectedly, they tend to fight to the death rather than be taken. Don't blame us for a situation you've created.'
'We prepare our cases very thoroughly,' said Gutman smoothly. 'We find them guilty because they are guilty. Surely you don't think I'd allow my fellow ex-aristocrats to be falsely accused?'
'This from the man who killed his own father to get on,' said Hazel. 'Pause, for sustained hollow laughter.'
Gutman shrugged. 'Things were different then. I am a different man now. Or don't you believe people can change, my dear ex-pirate and ex-clonelegger?'
Hazel scowled but said nothing, for which Owen was very grateful.
'The war trials exist to show the people of the Empire that justice is being served,' said Gutman.
'They exist because they're popular,' said Owen. 'People need scapegoats. What are you going to do when you run out of the real villains, Gutman? Going to start investigating anyone who dares disagree with this new order of yours?'
'Only the guilty need fear the people's justice,' said Gutman.
'And you decide who's guilty.'
'Parliament decides.'
'And you speak for Parliament,' said Owen. 'How utterly convenient.'
'Let us move on,' said Gutman. 'Next on the agenda is a proposal which I think will guarantee some lively debate. I'm sure I don't need to remind most of you that many seats will be contested shortly in the first free elections since the fall of the Iron Throne. What you may not be aware of is that many ex-aristocrats have expressed their intention to stand for many of these seats.'
'No way in Hell!' said Owen, his voice rising sharply over the growing murmurs around him. 'The deal Random made was clear; the Families renounced political power in return for being allowed to survive as financial institutions. Let them get into Parliament, through bribes and intimidation as likely as not, and they'll just end up running things again!'
'You really must learn to curb your paranoia, sir Deathstalker,' said a chilly voice, and everyone turned to look. Grace Shreck met their collective gaze with a mein of cool indifference, her nose stuck firmly in the air. Since Gregor's forced withdrawal from public scrutiny, his older sister had taken over as head of the Family and, to everyone's surprise, had done an excellent job of it. Toby and Evangeline had both been too busy and too reluctant to take over as the Shreck, so the position had fallen to Grace pretty much by default. Her time in the limelight seemed to have agreed with her.
Long, tall, and more than fashionably thin, with a pale swan-like neck, a pinched face, and a massive pile of white hair stacked on top of her head in an old-fashioned and frankly precarious-looking style, Grace made a striking picture among the more colorful birds of prey surrounding her. Ancient and austere, Grace hadn't been out in public regularly for years. She'd hated attending Court, and only did so when bulled into it by Gregor.
But she'd taken to the less formal and infinitely less dangerous Parliament with astonishing ease, and was now a spokesperson for many of the older Families, who trusted her precisely because she'd been out of touch for so long, and therefore had no attachments to any particular Clan or cause. She wore clothes so old-fashioned they'd actually come back into style again, and possessed a quiet poise and brittle wit that had won her the respect of many. The acceptable face of the ex-aristocrats, the holo audiences adored her and would listen to arguments from her they would have shouted down from any other aristo.
'Everyone has a right to stand for Parliament,' Grace said primly. 'A democratic right. Isn't that one of the things you claimed to be fighting for, sir Deathstalker, that everyone should be treated equally? Ex-aristocrats have as much a right to be heard as anyone else. After all, you yourself were once a Lord. Are you saying you should be banned too, your voice no longer heard? You are not the only member of a Family to understand the concepts of redemption and atonement.'
Owen scowled. 'I could have taken power. I chose not to.'
'How very… noble of you. But who is to say you might not change your mind in the future? I really cannot see what all the fuss is about. We are talking about free elections, taking place under safeguards you yourself helped to set up, with people voting according to their own consciences. If some of them choose to place their trust in a member of a Family to represent them in Parliament, that is their business and no one else's.'
'It's not as simple as that, and you know it.' Diana Vertue glared across the floor of the House at Grace Shreck, who smiled condescendingly back. Diana's scowl deepened, but she kept her temper under control. 'The espers will not again place themselves under the power of those who once treated them as property. Who mistreated, abused, and murdered them at will.'
'The excesses of the past are deeply regretted,' said Grace calmly. 'All the Families understand they have to prove their worth and place in the new order, and none of us are foolish enough to risk that place by resuming old and discredited practices. We must all learn to look to the future. The Families have much to offer. Everyone here understands the terrible events in your past, esper Vertue, that left you physically and mentally scarred, but we cannot allow one woman's obsessions to stand in the way of progress.'
Diana clung grimly to her self-control. This wasn't the first time Grace had sought to undermine her arguments by referring to her past as Jenny Psycho, when her mental stability had been… somewhat changeable. She couldn't respond to the accusation directly (
'The espers will never bow down to aristos again. We broke free of our chains through blood and suffering and the sacrifice of many; we will not be shackled again.'
'Pretty rhetoric,' said Grace, 'but essentially meaningless. This talk of masters and slaves is from the past; let it stay buried there. The rest of us have moved on. And, as I have pointed out in this House before, I dispute your claim to speak for all espers. You distanced yourself from the official underground leadership when you began speaking openly of your distrust of the Mater Mundi, and your following among the rank and file is not what it was. You speak only for yourself these days, esper Vertue.'
'Then let's talk about Blue Block,' said Finlay Campbell, and everyone's head snapped around to look at him. Finlay didn't often speak out in Parliament, but when he did everybody listened. The floating cameras overhead rushed to zoom in on him. Finlay smiled coldly across at BB Chojiro and her people. 'How can we trust the Families when most of them are still under the influence of a once secret organization, Blue Block? Their motivations, like their background, remain largely unknown.'
