“Isn’t it true that your son fled with the traitor Leclerc?”

“You play fast and loose with our legal system by such unproved accusations. Manfred Leclerc deserves his day in court. When he is arrested, his guilt or innocence will be determined.”

“Then you don’t deny that your son consorts with traitors and killers?”

“Next question, please,” Sergio said. Austin wanted to say something to defend himself but saw his father’s clenched fists and how he struggled to remain calm.

“One last question, Governor Ortega,” Elora boomed, drowning out the other reporters. “How do you respond to the recent off-world communiqué from both Prefect Radick and Lord Governor Sandoval expressing ‘no confidence’ in your ability to perform your duty as head of Mirach’s government?”

The room fell silent. Then the other reporters babbled their own questions.

“Why haven’t you told us of this message from the leaders of The Republic, Governor?” asked one. “What are you hiding?” asked another. “What else aren’t you telling us?” The noise rose to a deafening pitch. Even if Sergio had answered, no one could have heard him.

Austin fought to protect his father as the reporters surged forward with their shouted questions. Elora was Minister of Information and had flatly stated that not only had the Governor lost the confidence of the two most powerful leaders in the Prefecture, but he had also committed what was quickly becoming the ultimate crime: not revealing communications from other worlds immediately. The fall of the HPG built new conspiracies at every turn.

Austin had almost forced back the reporters when he heard Elora’s final cut.

“Since the leaders of Prefecture IV have lost confidence in your ability to lead, Governor Ortega, when will a replacement be named?”

Austin felt as if he had been hit in the belly with a sledgehammer. Elora’s scheme was transparent. There wasn’t a replacement because the Lord Governor had not lost confidence in Sergio Ortega. But Elora could make a strong case for Legate Tortorelli leading a military coup until a civilian replacement arrived.

Which it never would.

She would disgrace the Governor and then put her toady in Sergio’s place. Retaining the powerful position as head of the Ministry of Information, Elora would control Mirach completely from the shadows. Tortorelli would retain his post as Legate, giving him military and de facto civilian authority.

All the reins of power ran to her grasping fingers.

“Father, this way,” Austin said. Sergio let his son guide him from the conference room into the hall. To Austin’s surprise, Dmitri Borodin and four other soldiers he did not recognize hurried toward them. All five were dressed in the forest green Home Guard uniforms.

“Nobody’s allowed out, Austin,” Borodin said, putting up his hand to stop Austin from leaving.

“It’s a mob scene in there,” Austin said. “Help the Baron back to his office—”

Borodin looked grief-stricken as he stepped away from the other four. In a low voice he said, “We’re here to make sure Governor Ortega doesn’t try to go anywhere but his office. Those were Legate Tortorelli’s orders, straight from his own lips before we came here from the barracks.”

“That’s an outrage!” Austin cried.

“Don’t argue,” Sergio said. “It’s not worth it, son.” He went directly back to his office trailed by two guards, leaving Austin behind with Borodin and the other soldiers.

Austin seethed at such injustice. His father was a Baron, Governor of Mirach, and was being treated like a prisoner. Then he settled down and realized that Borodin was a good soldier and followed orders, even if they ran counter to his own loyalties.

“Thanks for what you’ve done so far,” Austin said. “Can I count on you later?”

“You can count on me, sir, but the patrol with me,” Borodin said uneasily, “they’re all loyal to Lord Governor Sandoval—if he declares for the Federated Suns. Every time a DropShip lands, there’s stories. They’re sayin’ Sandoval’s trying to take back FedSuns worlds, and there’re some who’d just as soon have it that way.” This was a shock to Austin, too concerned with the local situation to even consider what might be going on in the rest of the Prefecture, especially with the HPG net down. The FedSuns was one of the older states from which Devlin Stone had taken worlds to build The Republic. If the rumors were true—and Austin had no way to be sure that they were—then Mirach was in more trouble than he’d realized. And where did the Envoy from Sandoval, Parsons, stand? “They don’t exactly trust me, knowing I prefer The Republic, but it’s gettin’ hard, Lieutenant, it’s getting real hard, to keep thinkin’ The Republic’s the right way to go.”

Austin saw the two with Borodin overheard and grinned. This would be reported to the officer of the day.

“Carry on, Master Sergeant,” he said, as if he were still Borodin’s commanding officer.

“Wait, Lieutenant; I got more orders coming in.” Borodin pulled out a small radio and pushed it close to his ear. “Come on,” he said to the two soldiers. “We’re shutting down the news conference. The Governor’s incommunicado from now on, by order of Legate Tortorelli.” Borodin cast an anguished look at Austin, then silently mouthed, “Get out of here,” before leading his small squad to the conference room.

Austin wondered if the next order from Tortorelli would be to arrest everyone in the Palace. This was as close to a coup as there could be without shots being fired. And he had warned his father about turning over the FCL to Tortorelli’s command.

Feeling vindicated did little to ease the fear growing like a cancer in Austin’s gut. With Tortorelli shutting off the Governor and his staff from the reporters, Lady Elora would be the only source relaying government news to the public. Austin knew what those reports were likely to say after she had openly charged the Governor with being a traitor.

He took a side corridor and quickly lost himself in the maze of the Palace. This had been home for all his life and now it felt as if he walked an alien landscape, terrain as odd and deadly as the plains outside the Blood Hills Barracks.

Austin rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt. In an alcove not five meters away Marta Kinsolving held a Span-net device to her ear and spoke rapidly into it. Austin caught only snippets but went cold inside when he caught the gist of her conversation.

“Marta!” he called. She looked up, startled. She hastily clicked off the phone and shoved it into her pocket.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, spinning away from him and walking as rapidly as she could without running. Austin was under no such polite rule. He caught up with her before she reached the door leading to the small snow-crusted park south of the Palace.

“I heard what you said to Manfred,” he said. “You can’t do this.”

She faced him squarely. Marta’s face hardened and she set her jaw.

“Protect yourself, Austin. I know the orders Tortorelli just gave. He and Elora have finally made their move and we can’t let them succeed.” She pulled away and dashed into the mazelike hedges in the south park. Austin hesitated for a moment, then ran after her. If he didn’t convince her to call off the rebellion, the entire planet would be plunged into civil war.