First Cossack Lancers’ barracks, Governor’s Park

Mirach

12 April 3133

“You’ll go blind doing that so much,” Dale Ortega said to his brother. Dale lounged back, the pneumatic chair sighing softly to conform to his whipcord body, then hiked his booted feet to the table in the common room. The other guardsmen were on patrol or doing maintenance, leaving only Austin and him to stand duty. And his brother was no fun. Austin ignored attempts at conversation, his nose buried in the stacks of reports requiring an officer’s attention.

Dale felt a glow of pride in how fast his little brother had gained citizenship. Austin might think their father had pushed through the paperwork just for him, but Dale knew it hadn’t been that way at all. Austin’s service had been exemplary. He worked hard every instant he was on duty and even harder when he was off. Dale sighed, remembering his own troubles winning full citizenship. A string of petty problems was to be expected from someone with a bent toward practical jokes, but his father had almost disowned him over painting the huge four-tiered fountain in Chekhov Square a bright red.

“Dale!”

“What?” He swung about and faced his brother.

“Wake up. The newscast. It’s starting.”

“Who cares?” Dale started to sprawl back and then sat up so quickly the pneumatics hissed like a snake to maintain proper support.

“I thought that would get your attention,” Austin said, coming over. He used the IR-beam remote to turn up the sound. “Riots throughout the capital. Ten dead. It’s bad enough, but the way Elora’s presenting makes it sound worse than it is.”

“What’s in it for her?” Dale wondered aloud. “She’s stirring up the people for no good reason. She’s supposed to be Minister of Information and presenting the government’s side tactfully in all this trouble. Oil on troubled waters. But listen! Her commentator’s making it out that no one’s safe and how citizens should take up arms. That’s a blatant call to insurrection!”

“Father should crack down. I know he said he had ordered the police to hang back during demonstrations, but his noninterference policy is turning dangerous.” Austin was as upset as Dale could remember having seen him. On this, they saw eye to eye.

“Security around the Palace ought to be tightened,” Dale said.

“Papa said no when Manfred asked to double the guards and station battle armor around the grounds. Governor’s Park is wide-open and vulnerable without stepped-up patrols. Scout cars, Hoverbikes, and battle armor,” Austin said. “The problem is that Father thinks he can talk his way out of anything.”

“Maybe he can,” said Dale. “After all, can’t I talk my way into things?” Dale laughed and then quieted when he saw Austin wasn’t going to let go of his rant.

“There’s no way to reason with an angry crowd,” Austin said. “Father should replace Elora if she won’t control on-air content better. I don’t care what she says about avoiding censorship and the public’s increased hunger for information.”

“For once, she might be right,” Dale said. “Don’t get mad, little brother. Use your head like you usually do. The merest hint of censoring the news would have a terrible impact. We’re all blundering around, wondering what’s going on everywhere else in The Republic. If the people think they can’t find out what’s happening in their own backyard, the cork would really pop.”

“She’s letting her newscasters incite riots,” Austin said doggedly.

“Talk about inciting a riot!” Dale exclaimed, pushing out of his chair and hurrying to the door. His long arms engulfed a petite woman.

“You’ll crack my bones if you keep squeezing so hard, Dale,” complained Hanna Leong.

“You didn’t complain last night, my darling,” Dale said. He kissed her.

“Hi, Hanna,” Austin called. He greeted his brother’s sweetheart without looking away from the newscast.

“What’re you doing right now?” Hanna asked. Dale held her close when she tried to push away. It felt right to him when she was near. He could rest his chin comfortably on top of her head but refrained since she didn’t like it. More than mussing her carefully coiffed black hair, she said it brought back unpleasant memories of her childhood. Dale had wormed the complete story from her about a condescending uncle who patted her on the head at every opportunity, regularly making little of her accomplishments. Part of Hanna’s motivation in going for and getting an on-air newscast with the Ministry of Information was her need to gain respect.

Dale found her fascinating, though he had to admit it was her slim beauty and ebony eyes that had drawn him to her in the beginning. Hanna was as competent a reporter as she was a newscaster. Dale wondered if he could use his new position on his father’s staff to recommend Hanna for Elora’s job. Austin was right on target with criticism about Lady Elora and her performance as Minister of Information. It was time that their father recognize Elora was more of a subversive than a government representative. What better replacement than Hanna Leong?

“He’s on duty,” Dale explained. “He’s always on duty. Austin, you’ll make yourself crazy watching that.” Dale felt Hanna tense when she saw that Austin watched the newscast. “I didn’t mean the news would make him crazy, though watching you makes me crazy.” Hanna finally pushed out of his grip. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“I need to talk to you. Right now. Alone.”

“Austin, you mind getting the ready-report from Manfred? He’s down at Staging Area 5 doing something to the battle armor. Repairing it or adding armament, I don’t know what.”

“Routine maintenance,” Austin said. “You should check the schedule sometime.” He pushed past his brother and Hanna, grumbling about how the unrest in Cingulum spread to other cities.

“He’s such a worrier,” Dale said, shaking his head. “And it’s rubbing off on you. No frowns now. Only smiles when you’re with me,” he said sternly. Dale bent to kiss Hanna again, but she stepped back.

“It’s Lady Elora,” Hanna said.

“It’s always something,” Dale said in disgust. “What about her? If she’s giving you a hard time, I’ll go over there and mop the floor with her. She’s only a Minister. You’re my lover.”

“This is important, Dale,” Hanna said, sitting on the couch. He joined her, giving the mechanism a workout adjusting to two forms.

Dale said, “So tell me what’s wrong and how I can fix it.”

“There are …rumors. How she wants to turn Mirach over to the Steel Wolves. I dismissed them at first, but I think she’s sent couriers to Kal Radick.”

“Slow down, Hanna. Steel Wolves? What are you talking about?”

Hanna took a deep breath and began again. “There’s a lot you don’t know. There’s a lot the Governor doesn’t know. Elora’s keeping it all to herself.”

“You sound as paranoid as Austin. He thinks she’s responsible for the riots.”

“She is, Dale. I’m sure of it. Elora’s got word that Radick is going out on his own, that he isn’t Prefect any longer. He’s put together a group of Clan warriors loyal to Clan Wolf. They’re calling themselves the Steel Wolves and attacking one world after another. We heard something about an attack on Achernar, but nothing official has come in—”

“I should say not. My father would never keep anything like this quiet. This is huge.” Dale knew something about the Clans: fierce warriors, they practiced selective breeding to emphasize intelligence and strength. He’d heard they were enormous people, and some of the most deadly fighters ever known. But they were history to him, not real, and they lived so far away that they were more myth than reality.

“He might not say anything if he wasn’t sure, if there are other problems in The Republic.”