“Now who’s being romantic?” he shot back. “It’s only been forty years. Give ‘em time.”
“Forty-three,” I told him. “If they wait any longer, it’ll be too late.”
Andrain didn’t argue with that, which didn’t make me any happier.
Juliyana had made breakfast and was eating it at the little table, her pad in front of her.
I’d dropped a copy of the genuine orders onto her pad for her to find it, before sleeping last night. Why I had done it, I couldn’t say. I could have lied and said I’d forgotten about the orders. Shoved her out the door and got on with growing old.
She snapped up straight when I entered. “There’s oatmeal.”
“No, thank you.”
Juliyana nudged the edge of the pad with her spoon. “He was working for the Shield, then.”
“Don’t let it get into your head,” I warned her. I sniffed cinnamon and my stomach rumbled. Irritated, I went over to the printer and hit the preset for my breakfast.
“Something is wrong about the whole Drakas disaster,” she said. “There’s more going on than anyone ever admitted to.”
“This is what I meant by letting it get into your head.” I sat and wolfed two forkfuls of eggs quickly, then added, “Even as a lieutenant, you were working with less than complete information.”
“Sure, some of it was above my rank.” She shrugged. “This is completely different. The Imperial Shield are a black hole, they never share anything—”
“They’re called a Shield for a reason.”
“They’re called a Shield because they guard the Emperor. Only that’s just one section. They do all sorts of mysterious things, and they build the array gates, even before the Emperor federalized the array. They’ve never let anyone see the real process that goes into building them.”
“Because they’re grown, not built.”
“They’re bio-mechanical, which means they’re built and grown.” Juliyana looked irritated.
I ate two more quick mouthfuls, to get my stomach to shut up. I put the fork down. “Look, Juli, you can’t dig into this. You understand that, don’t you?”
She sat back. “Why not? Something’s not right and I think it goes right up to the Emperor—”
“Which is exactly why you can’t dig into it. Of course it reaches to the Emperor, in theory at least. The Shield is his to command.” I rested my hand on hers, as gently as I could. “Your father was doing something mysterious for the Shield. Granted. If you want to choose to believe he was just following orders when he died, if it helps, then you should hold on to that. Don’t try to hunt this down. You won’t like where it takes you. Other people won’t like where it takes you. Those orders were buried very deep for a reason.”
Her jaw flexed. No tears this morning. “You could hunt it down. You’re the Imperial Hammer. They’d listen to you.”
I sighed. “I was that woman, once,” I agreed. “I have no military authority anymore. I had none left, even before I resigned my commission. I was the soul survivor of a war that wiped out four battalions and half the Imperial fleet. It destroyed any credibility I had as an effective officer. I did far more to end my career than your father managed.” I smiled to take the sting out of it and borrowed shamelessly from Andrain. “Give it time. They’ll ease off on you, eventually.”
“How long?” Juliyana asked, her tone reasonable. “Fifty years? A hundred? No one will care after that.”
“And neither will you,” I assured her. “Time will take the sting out of it. I promise.”
“Then you won’t help me…”
“I think I was just saying that I can’t help you…and that you shouldn’t dig into this, either.”
Juliyana shook her head, her jaw still tight. “You’re making excuses.”
I quashed the irritation that was trying to build. I wasn’t used to junior officers arguing back. “Very well. Dispute this, then: My last crush shot was forty years ago. I’d have to use commercial passenger crawlers to get anywhere, which would take months. And commercial lines don’t go where I would need to get, to even begin to look into this.”
She opened her mouth again.
“Besides, I don’t have the money to use the cargo lanes, or a crush shot,” I added.
Juliyana closed her mouth. She got to her feet. “Got it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head as she shoved the pad into her sack and closed the sack. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” She slung the sack over her shoulder. “I am sorry about hitting you. I’ll be on my way.” She moved to the door.
“Leave it alone, Juliyana,” I urged her.
She paused with the door open. “He’s your son. I thought you, of all people…” She pummeled the door frame with the side of her fist. “Forget it,” she said bleakly.
The door closed behind her.
I finished my breakfast, even though I didn’t want it anymore.
The next scheduled supply ship was two days away. I tried to ignore the murmur in the back of my brain that Juliyana was on the Judeste somewhere—probably in a shitty dormitory squat down by the wharf level. I reminded myself she was a grown woman. Last I remember, she celebrated her century a while ago.
I got on with my life. Such as it is. I have no official role in the family corporation. Although if I wanted to, I could send Farhan, the current CEO, a request and have an official title, even an office, before lunch. That razor-thin majority shareholder position gave me leverage. I just didn’t care to use it.
I had come back to the barge to live as far outside the mainstream fuss as was possible. I could have really dropped out by applying for a homesteading license on some still-fertile ball. Built a cabin and slept in the rocking chair each day. Only, who would give me a license?
At least the Judeste had to give me room and board. Farhan had been reluctant, though. Forty years ago,
