“That’s right, Jax.” I replied wearily. In the face of Jax’s excited expression, I felt ancient and jaded. I had no doubt how Jax would vote. This was the kind of adventure he'd dreamed about while feeding the animals on Pascua. Con, though…
Con Wiler was a gifted Astrogator. He was also the shallowest human I’d ever encountered. He was tall, slim, and classically handsome. Not today, though. Today, his handsome features were puffy and red. His usually impeccable uniform was creased and rumpled, and his hair was likewise rumpled. He was obviously suffering from a combination of hangover and the effects of sober-ups.
“It's not fair!” Con whined. “We didn’t join up with Cord. Why should he want to take Valkyrie? You aren't gonna let ‘im, are you, Captain?”
“You weren’t listening, Con,” I replied with as much patience as I could muster. “Cord would have seized Valkyrie anyway. She's the biggest ship on the rim that doesn’t already belong to Jonas. Cord’s going to outfit her as a C amp;C ship for me. I’m the Commodore whose flag she’ll fly, and Hari may even command her. Now, you have to make a choice.”
I spelled out the options again, and then stepped back. “All right. You have until we reach Outback to decide what you want to do, and let me know.”
The trip to Outback was uneventful. Jax, of course, wasted no time letting me know that he wanted to join up. He was flushed and excited. He was having great difficulty restraining his enthusiasm, and badgered Hari and me endlessly.
Con was a different case altogether. Aside from the times that he’d come up to the bridge to set up the jumps, he stayed in his cabin with the door closed, engrossed in his collection of porn vids. He ate in a corner of the mess deck, and replied to any conversational attempts with glares and grunted monosyllables.
I wasn't greatly surprised, therefore, when he showed up at my cabin door the day before we emerged into Outback’s system.
“It's not fair, Captain,” he whined. “This isn’t our fight. Cord has no right to ask…”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “Cord is an Imperial Viceroy. He can do just about whatever he pleases. And Hari and I feel that what he’s doing is right.” I shrugged irritably. I'd promised myself I'd remain neutral, and not press my feelings onto the crew. But Con's manner was so abrasive… “I guess you’re here to let me know your decision.”
He nodded, glowering. “I didn't sign on to die in somebody else’s war. I’ll sell him my share, but I’m going to make sure I get every centisol it's worth!”
I sighed. “You will, Con. I’ll go over the books with you and we’ll calculate the value of your share together. I’ll see to it that you get full value — and then some. Cord promised to pay premium prices for any shares sold out, and I’ll hold him to it.”
Con’s expression turned suspicious. “What about the inbound ticket? You said he’d buy us a ticket back to the inner worlds.”
I nodded. “He will. I knew that the only ships out here were rim tramps, and anyone that sold out would want to get back to where the Guild can find them a berth on a larger ship, so I got his promise in writing. Within a day of our arrival on Outback, you’ll be on your way back to Haven, with a ticket for Galeta.”
He nodded and rose to leave. At the door, he hesitated. When he turned back, his expression was puzzled. “Why, Captain? Why would you and the others want to get involved in this insanity?”
I reminded myself that Con didn’t know about the fall of the Empire, and that I couldn’t tell him. I thought for a moment. “I know Admiral Jonas, and I’d prefer almost anyone else to be in charge of this sector. Hari, well, I guess he’s just going along with me. Jax, of course, thinks it'll be a great adventure.”
Con snorted. “Adventure. A fancy word for something bad happening to someone else. But you, Captain! Most Sector Viceroys are no better than Jonas is. What makes this one worth joining?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it's the fact that Cord isn’t like those others. Maybe I think if I can help put a competent leader in place in one sector, it may encourage the Emperor to try it in other sectors.”
He shook his head. “I don't see it, Captain. Everyone knows the Emperor doesn’t want competent Viceroys; they might rebel. Moreover, if he is competent, chances are the Emperor will dream up a reason to execute him. He also usually executes those close to them. Be careful, Captain.”
After he left, I realized he might have a point. If Cord and Hari were right, and the Emperors actively discouraged progress, our current one would probably not tolerate competent leadership in an independent Rim Sector.
Hari just shrugged when I mentioned my concern to him. “What if the Emperor is Cord’s co- conspirator?”
“ WHAT?” I was astounded.
He shrugged again. “The evidence seems to indicate it.” He ticked off on his fingers. “One, Cord claims to have discovered the facts about the fall of the Empire while a student in the palace. Surely, a student making such a discovery would tell his best and only friend. Two, Cord claims to have formulated his plans with the help of the palace computers. I seriously doubt such a project could be undertaken in the palace without the Emperor, or the Prince, noticing. Three, Con is correct. The Emperor is usually very careful to appoint sycophants and incompetents as Viceroys, to minimize the risk of rebellion. Cord is neither, and the Emperor has to know it. Four, the idea of the Emperor voluntarily releasing a sector, no matter how unprofitable, is patently absurd — unless the Emperor has an ulterior motive. I suspect Eron and Cord planned this together.”
I thought for a moment. “It’s hard to believe the Emperor is involved in planning that deals with the end of the Empire itself.”
Hari hesitated. “It is hard to believe. However, by all accounts Eron is someone special, even for an Emperor. He is reputed to be highly intelligent and imaginative, as well as tough and ruthless. Obviously, his ruthlessness extends to the Empire itself. He believes the Empire is falling, and as a conscientious ruler, he’s making an effort to ensure that civilization survives.”
I was confused. “Then why doesn’t he just recall Jonas to the inner worlds, and have him quietly killed?”
Hari shrugged. “Perhaps to test his co-conspirator. If Cord can’t handle the first hurdle in his path, he’s unlikely to be the one to build the foundation for the preservation of mankind.”
I shuddered. “Sorry. That’s just a bit cold-blooded for me. Thousands, perhaps millions may die in this dustup. To consider it just a leadership test…”
“How many will die in the collapse of the Empire? Don't forget, Emperors are trained to consider humanity in the mass, not the individual.” Hari shrugged. “Suffice it to say that whether or not we’re correct, the Emperor will not intervene on Cord’s behalf — or on Jonas’, for that matter. If Jonas wins, I suspect the Emperor will simply begin looking for a replacement for Cord. I doubt he’ll find it easy to find one as gifted and as trustworthy.”
Landfall was uneventful, except that we grounded at one of Outback’s six shipyards, rather than the commercial port. Before the ground cooled, a fleet of vehicles converged on Valkyrie. Even while I was being shown the modification plans by the yard’s manager, workers were swarming over and into the old bitch.
Outback is almost the diametric opposite of Haven. It’s a warm, humid world, with huge seas sprinkled with continent-sized islands. I breathed a huge, contented sigh as I walked down Valkyrie 's ramp.
I never got a chance to say goodbye to Con. I didn’t particularly like him, but he was part of my crew. But Rawl had made all the arrangements before we grounded. Among the first of the people who crowded aboard was a viceregal representative with Con’s inbound ticket and a voucher for 110 % of the share value that Con and I had calculated. Con had packed most of his gear before we grounded, and by the time I’d fought my way free of the people demanding my attention, Con was gone.
I had little time for regrets. Rawl had briefed me in space on the status of Viceregal Intelligence (impressive) and ground-based resistance (nonexistent). As soon as I could escape the shipyard, I headed my chauffeur-driven aircar to the commercial port to talk with Captain Cony, the tramp skipper I’d met briefly on Haven.
“I’ll tell ‘ee, Commodore,' the little man began, 'Ye’ve the entire tradin’ fleet behind ‘ee. Lardass Jonas don’ like us, ‘n we don’ like ‘im!”
The ‘entire tradin’ fleet’ turned out to be forty unarmed rim tramps of various ages and designs. None was designed to be armed except Valkyrie, and she was currently being rearmed. As soon as we'd grounded, Hari had gone into a huddle with engineers from the shipyard to try to design weaponry to install in this motley assortment of tramps.
What the traders did give me was a spaceborne intelligence capability and secure intersystem
