“We can’t have that.”

“But I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve spoken with Levin, more than once, and he is intractable. He hasn’t believed a word I’ve said. With the election coming up, I think he’d only be too happy to bring me down in the eyes of the other Paladins.”

“You mean to say Jonah Levin is actually playing politics?” Mallowes chuckled. “It’s about time. Most people don’t live in government as long as Levin has without being pulled into the game.”

The Senator took another sip at his drink, then stared off past Gareth’s shoulder as if he were pondering the matter. Gareth was fairly certain, though, that the Senator already knew exactly what he was going to say next.

“I may be able to help you,” Mallowes said finally. “I have a certain relationship with Paladin Levin—did you know I was involved in his appointment?”

Gareth stifled a laugh. Mallowes was present when Jonah was made a Knight, but other than that he had nothing to do with the occasion. “Yes. I believe I have heard something like that.”

“Our history runs back many years. Not as deep as yours and mine, of course, but substantial nonetheless. I may be able to persuade him to focus his investigation on a more likely suspect.”

“You could do that?”

“I’d consider it my duty. Paladin Levin should pursue the actual assassins, rather than waste his time on an innocent man like you.”

“If you could do that… I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“Thanks are not necessary. I hope you don’t mind my saying, but I have invested a substantial amount in your career and its success. I don’t wish to see you stymied at this juncture. Especially with the election coming up.”

Now we get to the heart of it, Gareth thought.

“Have you given more thought to the election?” Mallowes asked.

“I’ve tried. Levin has made it difficult.”

“At least he has probably helped make clear one person for whom you should not vote,” Mallowes said with a wolfish grin.

Gareth managed a weak chuckle. “Yes. At least there’s that.”

“Would you be willing to listen to my advice?”

“After what you’ve offered to do for me? I’d be ungrateful not to.”

“Quite so. I do not, at this point in time, wish to offer any specific names for your consideration. All I ask is that, when you vote, you remember the role of the Republican Senate.

“Some of your fellow Paladins, unfortunately, seem to believe the Senate is a mere advisory body, one easily ignored. That is far from what Stone intended. Our families have ruled worlds far longer than Devlin Stone or anyone else, and our experience must be valued. We are to share power equally, even to the point of having a strong voice in military matters, a voice the Paladins have denied us.”

I’m not sure that was truly what Stone intended, Gareth thought, but said nothing.

“We must be given heed. One way or another, the Paladins will pay attention to the Senate. Either this election will put an Exarch in place who will be responsive to our needs, or, after the election, the Senate will pursue other avenues to ensure our place is maintained. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes. I believe I do.”

“And can I count on your support in this?”

“After all you’ve done for me, especially if you can change the course of Paladin Levin’s investigation, I’m certain you can count on my support in this and many other matters.”

Mallowes leaned back in his chair, a man overly comfortable in his own skin. “I had hoped that would be the case. I knew my investment in you was well made.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Gareth said, though the words almost stuck in his throat. It was difficult to express gratitude to a man who believed he had purchased your loyalty. “I’ll do all I can. I’m just… I can’t be certain it will be enough.”

“My dear boy, I’m sure any effort you contribute to our cause will be more than sufficient.”

“But I’m only one Paladin, one out of seventeen voting members of the council. I can’t make the council more responsive to the Senate by myself.”

The Senator sat still, moving only a finger as he rubbed his glass. The waiter finally brought them their lunch (Gareth had learned that telling them to hurry made them much slower) and retreated after the steaming plates were laid to rest. Mallowes still seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

Finally he came to a decision.

“You will not be alone.”

“I won’t?”

“No.”

“How can you know?”

Mallowes allowed himself two bites of his lamb before he spoke. “I am not the only one in the Senate concerned about the current state of affairs. I am not the only one who has taken action to help us reclaim what is ours. Some of us became aware of the danger we were in a long time before The Republic got its rude awakening in the recent troubles. We’ve been involved with finding a solution to the leadership crisis for over a decade now.”

“Doing what?”

“We’ve tried various approaches,” Mallowes said. “The one that appears to be most successful involves working closely with military academies and MechWarrior training centers to develop appropriate educational programs and sponsor promising candidates for advancement. It’s slow work, nothing flashy, but as the overall quality of the pool of potential Knights gradually improves, so will the quality—eventually—of the Paladins and even of the Exarch.”

Gareth willed himself not to become distracted by speculation on what Mallowes’ other, less successful operations might have been. He kept his voice steady, and even managed to inject a note of admiration into it as he said, “That’s …ambitious.”

Mallowes looked modest. “It’s not a sudden, overnight change, but we believe it will be effective. We’ve planted seeds throughout The Republic, growing minds that understand the way the Sphere is supposed to be governed.”

“The academy on Skye.”

“One of our earliest efforts. And, despite the fact that you are an exemplary graduate, not our most successful. We sacrificed some control over the curriculum, and as a result it was not focused entirely correctly. Still, it is a good program and has generated several promising prospects—though none, of course, as promising as yourself.”

Numbers flew through Gareth’s head. Numbers connected to names, some of which he knew, some of which he had never heard. But now he knew how all of them were connected. The money was the investment. The names were the candidates. The list Victor Steiner-Davion had created, the list that had gotten him killed, was a list of the people Mallowes and his associates intended to use to seize power in The Republic. And Gareth had been the first, and highest-placed, name on that list.

He suddenly felt ill.

When he spoke, he hoped his voice did not betray his disgust.

“It seems like a risky plan. How can simply providing an education guarantee loyalty?”

“As I said, we have learned much since we opened the academy on Skye,” Mallowes said. “Then, we thought gratitude would be enough. We were, unfortunately, naive. Our program is better run now. Those we have groomed fully understand the extent of their debt, and have the proper education so they properly support our cause.”

“Proper education” sounded, in this sense, like “brain-washing” to Gareth. He couldn’t imagine what kind of schools Mallowes was funding now.

“There are dozens, even hundreds, of candidates out there now, rising through the ranks. We have a newly elected Senator. We have several Knights of the Sphere. And now, thanks to your exemplary loyalty, we have a Paladin. Our strength can no longer be denied.”

Gareth shook his head in honest amazement. “I had no idea.”

“The Republic has grown too soft. We have had it too easy. The era of Devlin Stone was like a dream, and we all must now wake up and face reality. It’s time people remembered the families who governed them for so long. It’s time we were given our due.” A raspy note entered Mallowes’ voice as his tone became more strident. “Many of your associates are not prepared to do that. Victor Steiner-Davion was not. I am. You are. This will be our time.”