Torch of Freedom

'It's quite true. And I'm getting another of those premonitions.'

'Which is what, Your Majesty?'

'The day will come, Hugh Arai, when you will pay dearly and bitterly for each and every one of these blasted 'Your Majesties.' Mark my words.'

Hugh mused on the matter all the way back to the palace. By the time they arrived, he'd reached the tentative conclusion that as dire predictions went, that one had the potential of being quite delightful.

The conclusion, of course, triggered off Hugh's overly-developed sense of duty again. And, again, he heaped silent curses on Jeremy X.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

July, 1921

'Yes, Jiri?'

Luiz Rozsak went right on methodically crushing gingersnaps for the eventual gravy as Commander Watanapongse appeared on his personal com. The rich, comforting smell of home-baked rye bread with caraway seeds was a subtle background incense for the stronger, more immediate scent of simmering sauerbraten, and, as usual, when he was occupied in the kitchen, Rozsak had set the com for holographic mode, which meant Watanapongse's head and shoulders seemed to sprout out of the counter before him while he worked.

'Sorry to disturb you, Luiz, but I thought you'd want to hear about this ASAP.' The commander grimaced. 'I think we've just managed to confirm what Laukkonen was talking about back in March.'

'Laukkonen?'

Rozsak's fingers paused in their work, and he frowned slightly. There were enough things breaking loose in the Maya Sector and its immediate environs for even Luiz Rozsak to need a handful of seconds to sort through his orderly mental files. Then he nodded.

'Ajax,' he said.

'Exactly.' Watanapongse nodded as the single word told him Rozsak had found the required memory and called it up. 'This isn't from him, and it isn't as clear cut and . . . concise, let's say, as what he had for us, either. But it's from two separate low-level sources in two different star systems. Neither of them happened to have any senior StateSec officers who owed them money, but between the two of them, they've reported the departure of three rogue ex-Peep warships from their areas. There's a lot of little stuff—minor crap, the kind of bar room and restaurant chatter where people let things slip—to suggest all three of them were headed for the same rendezvous somewhere, as well. Obviously, we can't confirm that positively at the moment, but we have been able to confirm that the ships in question all left in a fairly tight time window. One which would match pretty well with what Laukkonen gave us from Bottereau, the StateSec guy who owes him all that money.'

'I'm not hearing anything about positively confirming their target,' Rozsak observed, and Watanapongse twitched a slight smile at him.

'No, you're not,' he agreed. 'But as we agreed when we talked about Laukkonen's original report, it's hard for me to think of another target in our area Manpower would be interested in beating on.'

'That assumes operations in our area are what's on their mind, though,' Rozsak pointed out. 'Given what seems to be going on out Talbott's way, they could be pulling in extra forces for that area.'

'They could be.' Watanapongse nodded. 'On the other hand, given the scale of the operation Terekhov busted at Monica, all the StateSec holdouts combined wouldn't matter a fart in a skinsuit. If we can figure that out, then Manpower probably can, too, so why waste an asset that's only going to disappear like snow on a griddle when it gets run over by the reinforcements the Manties have to be sending that way?'

'Assuming the Manties have very much to send,' Rozsak replied.

'You know, Luiz, you really do seem to get more enthusiastic about playing devil's advocate whenever I catch you in the kitchen. I thought cooking was supposed to be a soothing pastime.'

'This is me being 'soothing'—or as close to it as I can get these days, anyway.'

Rozsak smiled crookedly, finished crushing the gingersnaps, set them aside, and wiped his fingers on the hand towel draped around his neck. He stayed that way for several seconds, his smile gradually fading into a slight frown, then exhaled heavily.

'I don't suppose we've got anything new on what the Manties did to Giscard at Lovat?' he asked.

'Not really.' Watanapongse shook his head, and Rozsak grimaced.

The assassination of James Webster in Old Chicago and the attempted assassination of Queen Berry on Torch had done exactly what he, Barregos, Watanapongse, and Edie Habib were convinced they'd been supposed to do: completely derail the proposed summit between Queen Elizabeth and President Pritchart on Torch. Elizabeth's reaction, Rozsak thought, had been almost as predictable as sunrise, particularly in light of the People's Republic of Haven's penchant for using assassination as a tool and the attempt on her own life which had been organized by Oscar Saint-Just. He had to admit that, in her place, he would have automatically been deeply suspicious of Haven, as well. Of course, he wasn't in her place. He didn't have her personal history—or the history of her star nation as a whole—with the People's Republic of Haven. And because he didn't, it seemed extremely unlikely to him that Pritchart would have gone about sabotaging her own proposed summit in such an elaborate and potentially disastrous fashion.

Of course, that may be in part because you know—now—just how 'disastrous' it looks like turning out after the fact, Luiz, he pointed out to himself. It's obvious Pritchart and Theisman didn't see whatever the hell it was Harrington used at Lovat coming any better than we did, so they couldn't have had any idea beforethe fact just how bad any fresh shooting was likely to be from their perspective. There is still the possibility that it was someone else in the Republic who wanted to sabotage the peace talks when it looked like outright military victory was comfortably in reach, too, I suppose. But still . . .

'In the absence of any additional evidence one way or the other,' he said out loud, 'I think you and Edie are probably on the right track. God knows I'd love to know how even Manties managed to cram a two-way FTL link into something the size of a missile, but I don't see what else could account for Lovat.'

'I'd be happier if we had something more concrete than secondhand reports about it,' Watanapongse responded.

'We'd always be happier if we had something we don't have!' Rozsak snorted. 'It's only the specific 'something' we have in mind that changes, isn't it?'

Watanapongse gave an answering snort of agreement, and the admiral shrugged.

'Well, since we don't have anything more concrete than secondhand reports about Lovat, we can't begin to predict where that whole mess is going. And, since we don't have anyone inside Manpower's command and control loop, either, we can't be positive exactly what target they're planning to hit. I think, though, that we're going to have to assume—provisionally, at least—that they are planning on going after Torch. If that attempt on Berry Zilwicki was a Manpower-organized hit, they may have been after more than one bird.'

'Softening Torch up as well as getting the Manties and the Havenites shooting at each other again, you mean?'

'That's exactly what I mean,' Rozsak acknowledged. 'And 'softening up Torch,' as you put it, would be a logical first step if they're planning on hitting it with a follow-up attack from space.'

'Those poor bastards can't seem to catch a break, can they?' Watanapongse asked rhetorically. 'First they lose their survey ship, a week later somebody tries to assassinate their queen, and now it's looking more and more like Manpower plans on hammering them from space, by proxy, at least.'

'And the two navies most likely to be able to do something about it are busy shooting at each other again,' Rozsak agreed. 'Besides which, if I were a betting man—which, of course, we both know I'm not—' he and