William laughed. “Why didn’t she like you?”
“I don’t know.” Kat shrugged. “I don’t recall any time she liked me, even when I was a little girl. It isn’t as if I went out of my way to give offense as a child.”
She sipped her water, thoughtfully. “Point is, any of them could have done it.”
William met her eyes. “What about the king?”
“The king?” Kat blinked in surprise. “Him?”
“He has the resources, does he not?” William didn’t look away. “It would be easier for him to promote Admiral Morrison without making waves. And then he could arrange for the admiral’s death after we rescued him. He has so much influence within the navy that he could probably also arrange for the captured supplies to go missing. Remember, everyone who joins the navy swears personal loyalty to the king.”
“And everyone who joins Planetary Defense swears loyalty to Parliament,” Kat said. “It doesn’t mean that they’ll carry out illegal orders . . .”
“The king told you to bring your fleet home,” William pointed out. “And you obeyed.”
Kat flushed. “He is the commander-in-chief.”
“Yes,” William said. “But only in wartime.”
“That . . .” Kat took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. The suggestion was absurd—completely absurd. The king wouldn’t commit treason. The king wouldn’t sentence millions of people to death. The king had been the one pushing for more ships and resources to be diverted to the occupied sectors. The idea that Hadrian would deliberately throw entire planets into the fire was madness. “Why? Why would he do it?”
“Power,” William said simply. “In peacetime, his powers are strictly limited. He’s the nominal commander-in-chief, but in practice the navy is run by the oversight committee and his influence is informal. In wartime, by contrast, he is the commander-in-chief in all ways that matter. He outranks even the Grand Admiral. And that will remain true as long as the state of emergency remains in existence.”
Kat shook her head in disbelief. “Even in peacetime, he’s still incredibly powerful,” she said, flatly. “The Royal Corporation is an immense power base if used properly. You’re suggesting he would take the risk of throwing everything he has away, for what? For a few scraps of power?”
Her voice rose. “And if you’re suggesting he deliberately started the war . . . why?”
“To get a state of emergency,” William said, flatly. “And to start a war that could be contained. One he believed that the Commonwealth literally could not lose.”
“Madness,” Kat said.
“Is it?” William leaned back in his chair. “Think about it. Admiral Morrison kept his fleet at no more than peacetime levels of readiness, even as tensions heated up along the border and our shipping was being hit by pirates and privateers. Cadiz was a sitting duck. But, at the same time, the Admiralty dispatches Admiral Christian to reinforce the borders . . . secretly. Even if First Cadiz had been a total disaster, Admiral Christian would have been able to buy time to bring the rest of the navy into the war.”
He paused. “And it worked out even better than anyone could have expected,” he added, “because we were there. We saved much of the fleet. We even managed to retake the high orbitals long enough to pull our people off Cadiz before the Theocrats rallied and kicked us back out again. The odds of us losing the war, already low, go down still further.”
Kat shook her head. “William . . . do you know how many things would have to go right for such a plan to succeed?”
“Fewer than you might think,” William said. “Cadiz has to be attacked. The fleet has to be neutralized, or it will be sitting in a perfect position to block the enemy supply lines. And the Theocrats have to tie up much of their striking power in a blow aimed at a world most planners considered worthless.”
“I was told as a cadet, time and time again, not to try to be clever,” Kat said, remembering all the cunning battle plans she’d developed that would never have worked in the real world. Her instructors had been quite scathing about some of them, pointing out that they depended on everything going exactly right or, perhaps more dangerously, made no provision for what to do if something went wrong. “This plan is . . . madness. Utter madness.”
“Yes,” William said. “It’s the sort of plan that might be devised by someone who had absolutely no real experience at all.”
The king has no real military experience, a treacherous voice whispered at the back of Kat’s mind. He didn’t even have to compete for his post.
“The king is already on top,” Kat said, telling that voice to shut up. “That’s like . . . me assassinating Admiral Falcone on the assumption I’d succeed to her post. But it’s the post I already have.”
William shrugged. “But the king did benefit, hugely, from the state of emergency. And prolonging it does make sense.”
“If your theory is correct,” Kat said sharply.
“Even if it isn’t, the king does benefit from keeping the state of emergency going,” William reminded her. “He has an excellent motive.” He frowned. “And he’s made other missteps too,” he added. “Pushing for major investments in the liberated sectors . . . even demanding more investments in the colonies. That was a political misjudgment, particularly as he made no attempt to get support from Parliament first. Instead, he backed himself into a corner where there’s no way he can retreat without making himself look like an idiot.”
“I would have thought you’d support him,” Kat said flatly. “Those investments would have helped your people, as well as the liberated worlds.”
“Yes,” William said. “But he demanded too much and walked away with nothing. If he’d come to Parliament with a more reasonable set of requests, he might have done a great deal of good. Instead, nothing. The only thing he can reasonably be said to have accomplished in the last year is uniting Parliament against him.”
Kat looked down at her hands, suddenly aware, very aware, that
