'But-'
'It is her right, Little One,' Tisiphone said quietly. 'Do not deny her choice or blame her for it. The fault is no more hers than yours.'
Alicia bowed her head. The Fury was right, and if she tried to force the AI, she would only twist the time they still had with pain and guilt.
'All right,' she whispered. 'All right. We've come this far together; we'll go on together.'
Megarea's warm silence enfolded her, answering for her, and fragile stillness hovered on the bridge, filled with a strange, bittersweet sense of acceptance. What she was becoming could not be permitted to live, and it would not. That had to be enough, and, somehow, it was.
It was odd, she thought almost dreamily, but she didn't even blame Tisiphone. She would have died long since if not for her, and the Fury's pain was too genuine. If she had become something else, so had Tisiphone, and the bond which had grown between them no longer held room for resentment or hate.
The stillness stretched out until the Fury broke it at last.
'In truth, Little One, my promise to you may not matter in the end. I have not yet told you what I have learned.'
'Learned?' Alicia stirred in her chair.
'Indeed. While Megarea dispatched Procyon's AI, I sought a mind which could tell us more. I found one, and in it I found the truth.'
Alicia snapped back to full alertness, driving the residual flicker of madness as deep as she could, and felt Megarea beside her in her mind.
'The Fleet personnel who pursue us were most carefully selected by their commander, and their objective is to create such havoc as must force your Emperor to commit much of his fleet to this sector.'
'We already knew that, but why? What can they possibly gain from it?'
'The answer is simple enough,' the Fury said grimly, 'for he who truly commands them is the one called Subrahmanyan Treadwell.'
For just an instant the name completely failed to register, and then Alicia flinched in disbelief. 'The sector governor? That-that's crazy!'
'There is no question, Little One. It is he, and his objective is no less than to place a crown upon his own head.'
'But … but how?'
'He has requested massive reinforcements to 'crush the pirates.' Indeed, he has been promised the tenth part of your Fleet's active units and perhaps a third of its firepower. Once they arrive, Admiral Gomez will be relieved or die-it matters little to him-and replaced by Admiral Brinkman.
'For a time, the pirates will prove even more successful. Their raids will spread across the border into the Macedon Sector, which is but lightly held, until they seem an irresistible scourge. And when the terror has reached its height, when the people of both sectors have come to believe the Empire cannot protect them, Treadwell will assume personal command of the Fleet and declare martial law. Brinkman will accept this, and they will relieve captains most loyal to the Empire, replacing them with men and women loyal only to them, until Treadwell's control is total. And at that point, Little One, he will declare that the Empire has proven incapable of defending its people so far from the center of power. He will declare himself ruler of both sectors in the name of their salvation, offering to submit to a plebiscite when the 'pirates' have been destroyed, and from that moment the raids will become less frequent. In the end, a carefully chosen squadron of his most loyal adherents will fight a false battle in which the 'pirates' will appear to be utterly destroyed. He will then face his plebiscite, and even without manipulation of the votes, he will probably win.'
'But the Emperor won't stand for it!' Alicia protested sickly.
'Treadwell believes he will. That is the reason he seeks such naval strength. Surely the Emperor will realize that a civil war-and it would require nothing less once Treadwell's plan has played itself out-will but invite the Rishathan Sphere to intervene? And remember this: none save Treadwell and his closest adherents will know what actually passed. All will believe he truly dealt, firmly and decisively, with a threat to the people he is sworn to protect. These sectors lie far from the heart of the Empire. Will the Emperor be able to rally sufficient public support for a massive operation against a man who but did what had to be done in so distant a province?'
'Dear God,' Alicia whispered. She licked bloodless lips, trying to grasp the truth, but the sheer magnitude of the crime was numbing.
'Megarea, did you get any of this from Procyon's computers?'
'No, Alley.' Even the brash AI was subdued and shaken. 'I didn't have time for data searches.'
'It would not have mattered, Megarea. There was no data for you to find. The details of the plan have never been committed to record-not, I venture to say, unreasonably.'
'Yeah.' Alicia inhaled deeply. The numbness was passing, and the flame of her madness guttered higher. She ground her heel upon its neck, driving it back down, and shook herself.
'Okay. What do we do with the information?'
'Tell Ferhat?' Megarea suggested hesitantly.
'Maybe. He'd believe us, I think, though it's for damned sure no one else will. I mean, who's going to take the unsupported word of a madwoman who talks to Bronze Age demons over that of a sector governor?'
'I suppose I should resent that, but I fear you are correct.'
'Yeah, and even if Ferhat believes us, he needs proof. They could never convict on what we can give them, and I doubt even O Branch would sanction a black operation against a sector governor.'
'Agreed. And that, Little One, is why my promises to you may stand meaningless in the end. I see only one way to destroy this traitor.'
'Us,' Alicia said grimly.
'Indeed.'
'Now wait a darn minute! Do you two actually think we can get to a sector governor? What do you want to do, nuke the damned planet?!'
'It will not be necessary. Treadwell dislikes planets. His quarters are aboard Orbit One.'
'Oh, ducky! So all we have to do is fight our way in and punch out a six million-tonne orbital fortress with a third of my weapons so much junk? I feel lots better now.'
'Are you saying you can't do it?' Alicia tried to make her voice light. 'What happened to all that cheerful egotism when we busted out?'
'Out is easier than in,' Megarea said grimly, 'and you know damned well they'll have reworked their systems since, just in case we come back.'
'So we can't get in?'
'I didn't say that,' Megarea replied unwillingly. 'I'll know better when I finish repairs- remember, that battle- cruiser shot the hell out of me-but, yeah, I imagine we can get in. Only, if we do, I don't think we'll get out again, and I doubt anything I ever had was heavy enough to take out that fort. I certainly don't have anything left that could do the job.'
'Oh yes, you do,' Alicia said very softly. 'The same thing that could have taken out Procyon.'
'Ram it?' There was less shock in the AI's voice than there should have been, Alicia thought sadly. Like her, Megarea saw it as the possible answer to her fear of what she might become. 'I think we could do it,' Megarea said at last, slowly. 'But there are nine thousand other people on that fort, Alley.'
'I know.' Alicia frowned down at her hands and her shoulders hunched against the ice of her own words. 'I know,' she whispered.
Chapter Thirty-two
The black-and-gray uniformed woman looked up as a quiet buzzer purred. A light blinked, and she slipped into her synth link headset and consulted her computers carefully, then pressed a button.
'Get me the Old Man,' she said, and waited a moment. 'Admiral, this is Lois Heyter in Tracking. We've got something coming in on the right bearing, but the velocity's wrong. They're still too far out for a solid solution, but
