Dan was angry, not at Clovis, but at the memory. "Well I have, Clovis. In combat. I've seen it in combat." Dan turned and slammed his fist against the wall. "I saw it twelve years ago on Mallory's World, then twice more on Styx." He turned back and pointed accusingly at the battletape's flickering image. "Now I see it here." His shoulders slumped. "Tell me something,Clovis."

Clovis raised his hands and opened them. "I can tell you this, Dan," he said slowly, pointing to the data feed. "The passive sensors, like your Starlight sensors, can pick up photons bouncing off the Archer.That's why you could see him or, at least, that's why I think you could see him. The other sensors, like magscan or infrared, either don't get data back when they send out a signal, or the computer fails to interpret it when it comes in." Clovis shrugged helplessly. "That's about all I can tell from such a brief look. But I want to do more thorough checking. Maybe cross-correlate all this with Morgan's EEG and EKG readout from the fight."

Dan frowned. None of it made any sense. "In simple terms, Clovis, what are you telling me?"

"What I'm telling you, Captain, is that for all intents and purposes, on the battlefield, the computer does not believe Morgan Kell exists."

Book III

Doublé

24

In-system, Terra

14 August 3028

Duke Michael Hasek-Davion stared through his DropShip cabin's big, round viewport at the blue-white ball that was his destination. Dozens and dozens of other DropShips—most spherical like the OverlordClass bearing the Duke, but a few aero-dynamically constructed as well—were all rushing in toward the planet.

The Duke meditated on the world they were approaching. For centuries, DropShips and JumpShips have carried mankind away from this modest little planet. Terra is neither as large as others man has settled, nor is it as rich in minerals or life, yet it alone has produced a sentient species. That makes it very special, indeed.

The door to his cabin irised open with a hiss, bringing a small, slender man with thinning brown hair into the small room. Michael turned slowly, while the other man seemed to wince with discomfort with his every step. "You summoned me, My Lord?"

Michael nodded, secretly exulting in the weight of his long, black braid against his spine. Poor Count Vitios. A man as slight as you is poorly endowed to endure travel at much more than 1 G, but I wish to arrive early. Besides, the exercise will put some tone into your muscles."Indeed, I did."

Vitios sank gratefully into the deeply cushioned chair that Duke Michael indicated. "How may I be of service, Lord?"

The small man's embarrassment at his weakness flashed over his pinched face while Michael clasped his hands behind his back and effortlessly paced before the viewport. "I wish to reassure myself that you will do nothing foolish on Terra."

The Count froze for half a second, then forced a smile. "Duke Michael, whatever do you mean?"

Michael returned the smile with a crafty one of his own. "Anton, I know you too well not to realize that you must have some sort of contingency plan for this opportunity. I know, though it has been a dozen years since the battle on Verio, that you still mourn your wife and children." Michael lifted his hand with palm out to forestall the Count's reply. "No one thinks you less a man for such open devotion, and many admire you for it."

Michael turned his back to his visitor and watched the Drop-Ships crawl along at a snail’s-pace in their path toward Terra. "I watched the holovids of Justin Allard's trial and saw how your prosecution revealed him to be the Liao agent he has so openly become of late. Yet your desire for revenge still runs deep and hot. This is good."

"I would do nothing to embarrass you, My Lord."

Smiling, Michael turned again toward the Count. "I know that, but I would not wish to see you caught foolishly in some situation that could hurt your crusade."

The Count frowned. "I understand very well, Duke Michael, the ComStar directive instructing no one to carry weaponry of any sort to the wedding. ComStar will screen all baggage and personnel before anyone or anything can leave the Savannah Spaceport quarantine area, and again before they enter the compound. Though I am not invited to the wedding and will stay in Savannah with the rest of the household staff, I have no intention of trying to smuggle in a weapon."

Michael nodded curtly. "And well that you do not. ComStar has made it no secret that they will interdict the flow of messages to and from any House violating the wedding's security. An interdiction would leave one deaf and blind."

Count Vitios narrowed his eyes. "I would guess, then, My Lord, that you mean to speak to me about another subject?"

Michael smiled. "Liao agents have brought me an offer of support against Hanse Davion."

"Those God-cursed bastards!" The Count's jaw muscles bunched as he ground his teeth. "I hope you told them to go to hell!"

Before replying, Michael straightened himself up to full height. "As a matter of fact, I told them that the offer was most tempting."

The Count sank back speechlessly into the blue chair's deep padding. His jaw hung open as he stared at Michael in disbelief.

The Duke watched him with a smile. You, my bulldog, will have value in defending me only if you can see my true plan.

Michael turned away from his subordinate to again study the view of the many ships heading toward Terra. "Consider, Anton, what this marriage means in military and political terms to the Successor States. Hanse has promised me that he will reinforce the Capellan March with troops from the Draconis march as soon as this year's Galahad exercises are over. He feels that the Draconis Combine will not be as much of a threat after the marriage to a Steiner because the alliance guarantees that the Dragon will have to fight a two-front war anytime he decides to be aggressive."

A nervous tremor rippled through the Count's voice. "That seems sensible, Highness. But it sounds as though you do not believe the Prince will keep his word."

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "Your observation is correct, but I have developed this belief without assigning malice to my brother-in-law. I believe he will not get the opportunity."

"I don't know that I follow you, My Lord."

Michael pointed to some of the ships racing toward Terra. "There they are, Anton—the leaders of the Successor States. Lord Takashi Kurita is too wise to let himself be boxed in. Maximilian Liao still dreams of being the First Lord of a new Star League, and Janos Marik has no love for either House Steiner or House Davion. There can be no doubt that those three consider the strengthening of the alliance between Davion and Steiner to be a serious threat."

"If you will forgive me, Duke Michael, that conclusion is obvious. But surely they will not strike at the wedding."

Michael shook his head slowly, letting his braid rustle the silken fabric of his dark tunic. "No, Anton, they would never do that—for the same reasons you have already enumerated. I also daresay that they will not strike immediately after the wedding, either, because Hanse has gathered his troops in and around the Terran Corridor for Galahad '28." Michael sat down to face the Count, but his eyes had a faraway look, as though contemplating a distant future image. "Now that would be a battle for all time, would it not?" he said finally. "The best of Kurita, Liao, and Davion battling it out on a dozen worlds—with Hanse Davion trapped on Terra all the while . . ."