Vita's Vengeance

By Lazette Gifford

Alsandor Vita has returned home with bad news for those who hoped outsiders would help against a treacherous enemy poised to invade their world. Despite the situation, Alsandor hadn't expected dramatic changes in his own future, but unusual circumstances soon give him a chance to fight the war in ways he never expected, leading Alsandor into a perilous world of secret identities and dangerous allies.

The war will affect the lives of others as well, from generals to presidents and from farm boys to pirates -- all caught in a tangle of deceptions, desperation and lies.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A Conspiracy of Authors
• Release date: Apr 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781936507344

Lazette Gifford

Lazette is an avid writer as well as the owner of Forward Motion for Writers and the owner/editor of Vision: A Resource for Writers.It's possible she spends too much time with writers.And cats.

Book preview

Alsandor ineffectually protested as the medtech held him down, his face pressed against the sofa's rough cushion.

Problems? someone asked from the doorway.

No sir, I can handle him, the woman said, her voice a harsh growl as her hand shoved hard against the back of Alsandor's neck, pinning him down. He's too drunk to be any real trouble.

She shoved an injector against Alsandor's neck with enough force to bruise. In the next heartbeat, the drug burnt like fire rushing through blood -- and he went from dead drunk to so clear-headed sober it made him ill.

Damn! Alsandor growled as the stocky woman stepped away.

He sat up, taking short breaths to fight away the queasiness. The small, private cabin of the shuttle stank of liquor. A bottle of something -- empty -- lay on the floor by his feet. He didn't see a glass. He hadn't drunk straight from the bottle had he?

Damn, damn. He hated this. Alsandor ran his hand through his long, snarled hair wondering how it could get so bad in the few short hours since he left the ship for the shuttle.

Orders, sir, Captain Hanson said from the cabin's doorway. The man shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable with the situation. From Madame President herself.

Elisa's instructions. Of course. They wouldn't dare treat him like this without a command from someone higher in authority than his own mere claim as co-owner of the ship line. Wealth, and the temporal power of the rich, meant nothing in the face of a dictate from his older sister, Madame President Elisa Vita Taren.

Councilor Vita?

Alsandor scowled at the title as he looked back at the man. His position in government meant less here than it did in the council chambers in Kaiton, where it meant damned little enough. However, he looked up and gave a nod, saying nothing.

The shuttle lands in less than an hour, the Captain said. I trust you will be ready?

"I've put enough Anticol in him that he can't get drunk again," the medtech replied, an angry snarl of words as she went to the doorway.

Ah, you see, Captain, Alsandor said, his voice soft and without rancor. He'd been trained all his life never to show his darker emotions, especially when it might be politically inappropriate. Always remember how what you say and do will reflect on Madame President. I'll look quite presentable when we reach the capital.

The Captain gave a slight nod and left the private VIP cabin with the frowning medtech beside him. Such a damn waste, she said out in the hall. Why does she bother --?

The door slid shut, saving Alsandor from listening to the familiar tirade: Why does President Elisa Vita Taren bother to keep him around, let alone appoint him as her advisor to the Kai Council?

Alsandor knew the answer, and it was a shame no one bothered to ask him. She kept Councilor Alsandor Vita because he did anything she asked: Voted for what she wanted, researched what she needed, and said what she wanted said when it was ill-advised for her to do so. No other politician in her cadre obeyed her as well, even among her most ardent followers. Elisa wasn't a fool and she knew the worth of a younger brother who had learned to let her run his life at a very early age.

People asked why she bothered to keep him around, but no one asked why he stayed. Probably just as well. He had no blithe, easy answer for that one.

A cleaning bot scurried out from the wall and grabbed the bottle and the glass wedged under the sofa. Seeing the glass brought a small salve for his pride, for whatever that was worth.

A glance at the desk's comp showed Dasan completely filing the screen with blue mountains, green and brown farmlands, and the rugged coastline lining the wide, aqua sea. The Sofi Islands slipped over the edge of the screen as he watched and he stared for a while at the Kai and Anon landscape, glad to be home.

He wished Elisa had given him a little more credit for not being stupid. Before he started drinking, he'd taken a timed Anticol dosage. In fact, the drug kicked in as he thought about it, redoubling the headache with enough force to make him gasp and close his eyes, waiting for the drug's first wave to burn through. He would have been completely sober when he reached the port without her interference. This had been intended as his last -- and private -- binge, banished with the drug before he stepped out in public.

He wondered if he would hold to his resolve this time. It had been easier, away from the pressures he faced here, not to drink.

The war is coming. His mission to ask aid of the Inner Worlds Council had been a total -- though not unexpected -- failure. The IWC hadn't helped the other Aquila Fringe worlds of Jade, Milanda or Enil either, so no one expected them to step in this late. Nevertheless, Elisa sent him to present their case. The journey had been tedious and futile, done for the sake of propriety and nothing more. They couldn't leave such an obvious stone unturned for her political enemies to exploit when she most needed everyone's cooperation.

General Jarak wouldn't have much trouble taking Dasan. Both the Kai and Anon Districts prepared for the larger war but hadn't come to terms with each other over their own border disputes which divided any strength they might have had. The Sofi Islands remained quiet and neutral, and the half dozen other, smaller districts scattered across the world couldn't have gathered enough military forces to fend off an invasion of cleaning bots.

All so useless.

Restless now, as well as sober, Alsandor watched a few minutes of the Vidline feed, grimacing at the sight of Jarak appearing everywhere in the news. Alsandor had grown tired of looking at the man. Besides, Jarak looked too much like his daughter, Idela. At the unwelcome thought of his wife, Alsandor reached toward the liquor case, and stopped with a curse, remembering why he had such a headache.

Maybe he'd get lucky and Idela had finally gone home to Verdi during his long trip to the Inner Worlds. He didn't know why she'd held on to their marriage for the last two years, despite her obvious dislike for Dasan and her hatred for him.

And why hadn't he let go? Ah, he easily answered that one: Because Elisa, who had suggested he marry Idela, had not yet bothered to suggest he divorce her.

Damn bitter homecoming thoughts. He shook his head, welcoming the bite of pain from the headache because it chased away everything else.

No time left to feel sorry for himself. He grudgingly turned to the work of looking presentable for the people who would judge Elisa by his behavior.

When the shuttle disembarked at the Kaiton Port, Alsandor Vita passed Captain Hanson at the airlock with a friendly smile. Hanson looked surprised and then pleased. Vita charm was one of the few things Alsandor could honestly say he had in common with Madame President. He also shared so much of the same facial features that he'd taken to wearing a short beard and longer hair in attempt to end the constant comments about how much he looked like his sister.

The short walk down the well-lit corridor brought him to the port's entry gate. Beyond the archway, he could see a group of second-string local reporters who had turned out to meet him. Obviously it was a slow news day.

Alsandor straightened his jacket and hurried to the semi-opaque glass of the scanning arch where the computer verified his identity. Scan lights blinked, held, and blinked again, showing the machine had been set for the highest priority of a full genescan, even though that took several seconds longer to complete. People would complain of the extra time, of course. For Alsandor, though, this proved the first real indication of serious trouble on Dasan. Something had changed since he left world, ten months before.

Alsandor started to step out of the scan booth when a small screen came to life at the side, and he found himself unexpectedly looking at his sister. She sat at her desk, shuffling through some papers. The words recorded message flashed in small red letters at the bottom left.

She looked up. San, I checked the schedule and see your shuttle will be down in time for today's council meeting. Try not to be late.

The picture faded. No words of welcome. No hint she was glad to see him back. A please would have been nice.

Scan and messages are completed. Please move on.

The computer was more polite than his sister. He looked over his shoulder to gauge the distance back to the shuttle. He owned the damned craft. The crew couldn't turn him away.

The computer chimed on again. Please state the nature of your problem so we may summon proper aid.

A half dozen answers sprang to mind, of which I hate my life seemed the most appropriate. However, he moved forward into the lobby's main room; the redstone floor and the pristine white walls felt like home, suddenly. Most of the lobby chairs were empty, though, guards stood in a few locations -- more than had been on duty when he left Kaiton.

Alsandor moved into view of the reporters with a smile set on his face. He buried the anger at Elisa's message along with any feeling of despair before the reporters could see the emotions in his eyes.

They asked a flurry of the usual questions, to which he gave the equally usual and meaningless answers. Excellent trip, no problems. No sign of trouble. I am not at liberty to discuss the mission before I report to Madame President.

He started to turn away, preparing to go to Council. He had wisely written his report before the ship slipped into the system and had spent an hour on the shuttle going over the wording before he opened the liquor cabinet.

His head pounded still.

I suppose you're anxious to get home to your pretty wife, Bela from Kai Times said as the others started to pack up their equipment.

She's still here, then? he asked absently.

A chorus of laughter erupted from both the reporters and the few people gathered nearby. Idela would have his head.

Yes, Idela Jarak Vita is still at the estate, Bela said. Alsandor could see her delight with the sound bite she would most certainly use. You're not anxious to get home?

Oh, I can't wait to get home, he quickly answered, which was true. He loved the estate. But, alas, I've already had a message from Elisa saying to come to the Council Meeting. I had better get there before they're called to order. Thank you.

He gave a polite nod, ignoring Bella's frown. He'd already given her more than enough to get him in trouble. He walked away, nodding to others he passed.

What a surprise. Sober, Bela said loudly behind him.

He didn't allow his step to falter or the smile on his face to waver while the others watched. Elisa wouldn't like a scene within the hour of his return home. Which was why he wasn't drunk, of course.

Someone patted his arm. Alsandor smiled (always be polite, never bring disgrace to Elisa's name), but the man had already turned away. At least it had been a little show of kindness.

Alsandor walked another half dozen steps before he realized his arm hurt and in the next breath the pain spread throughout his body. He paused in mid-step and his legs gave out. As he went to his knees, he inanely thought the reporters would believe him drunk after all.

Breathing hurt and his sight blurred with each gasp. Guards arrived at a run and a view of the familiar black uniforms reassured him. Safe. . . .

When he started to fall forward a guard quickly knelt and caught his shoulders. The touch brought a fire-like pain through his arm, and radiating through the rest of his body. He saw his right hand covered with tiny blisters.

Trine poison.

Call Madame President! the man shouted.

No! Alsandor caught the ankle of another who had started to pull his commlink. The touch hurt like hell, sending pain pulsing in waves through his body, but he didn't let go. He had to fight to speak. No! She'll come here. Don't tell her! Someone -- Trine -- might want her --

Get the port's medtech! another ordered. He heard shouted orders about sealing off the building, but Alsandor knew wouldn't catch him. He'd been good, quick, professional. . . .

Soldiers pulled him up and swiftly moved Alsandor into a small, cluttered office nearby, pushing him into a chair. The movement made him ill. By now color and sounds began to blur and he barely noted when someone brought the medic. After a quick scan, the man quickly pushed an injection into San's neck, followed by another scan before he started to look less worried.

Damned lucky, the man said. Alsandor could already hear better, and the room colors had stopped melting into each other. You've already taken Anticol recently, haven't you?

Y-yes, he said in a gasp for breath and words. Two doses, earlier.

You'd be dead without them. Trine has a chemical make-up very close to alcohol. With the proper flavoring added, most people can't tell the difference -- and if there's alcohol already in the blood stream, the liquor acts as a catalyst and speeds up the reaction. Anticol, praise God, is the best antidote we have. You were hit with an extremely strong, concentrated dose of Trine.

Alsandor barely nodded, the world still too bright and every sensation painful.

Here, this will help deaden the nerve fire. The med carefully pulled off Alsandor's jacket, and gently pushed up the shirt sleeve. He placed an injector against Alsandor's wrist below an ugly red and brown spot where the stranger had touched him.

Someone had tried to kill him?

The door slid open, startling Alsandor, though he nodded with relief at the sight of Micah -- and then worried again when he saw his brother-in-law's frantic appearance. Nothing ruffled General Micah Taren, but there he stood without his uniform cap, brown hair looking wind-blown, and his jacket unbuttoned.

They called me as I was getting ready for Council, Micah breathlessly reported. They said you'd taken Trine Poison --

"Not taken, the medtech corrected so brusquely that Alsandor felt chagrined. He didn't realize he needed defending on a charge of suicidal tendencies. The doctor indicated the discolored spot on Alsandor's bare right arm. Someone tried to kill him. He's lucky he survived."

Oh damn. Micah abruptly sat down on a chair. He put a hand to his mouth and away again, a gesture San knew reflected agitation. Why didn't someone call Elisa?

Told them not to, Alsandor said, taking short breaths, hoping to ease both the pain and the panic. Didn't know where the assassin went. He might have tried to kill me just to lure Elisa here.

That makes sense. You aren't important enough -- Micah stopped, and looked horrified. "I'm sorry, San. That was a damned impolite and thoughtless thing to say!"

Alsandor managed to lift a shaking hand and wave away the apology. It's all right. I was thinking the same thing.

That's not fair to you. You are important. Why do you think Ranifyn spends so much of his energy trying to convince people you should be removed from Council?

Because he likes easy targets.

Then why do you make it so easy for him? No, never mind. I'm being unfair again. You're obviously not in condition to be badgered.

He will be better as soon as the poison works its way through his system. Probably by tomorrow though it may take longer. It's hard to say. The medtech started packing up his equipment, glancing at Alsandor and then at Micah. The amount of Trine would have killed him within the hour if he hadn't already had the Anticol in his system, which immediately neutralized the worst of the poison. There would have been damage no amount of regen could have fixed in time. He stopped and looked at Alsandor. "Be careful. It doesn't matter why this person tried to kill you. He wasn't playing games."

Thank you, San said and carefully shook the man's hand, though his fingers still tingled with a latent hint of fiery pain. He had to fight to keep the panic from showing as he watched the man leave. He'd felt safe with the doctor close by with the ability to get help within reach. He supposed he should feel safe with General Taren, though.

Tell me what happened, Micah said drawing his attention. The General looked more himself again, at least.

Alsandor related the incident as best he could. Micah listened and nodded. The vidcams, both in port authority and from the reporters, would probably reveal more.

With the tale done, San carefully pulled the shirt sleeve back down over his arm. The skin looked discolored and puffy from wrist to elbow. By the time he finished he realized Micah had been quiet for far too long. Alsandor looked up to find his older brother-in-law staring at him.

This is a hell of a way for you to come home, isn't it? Micah finally asked.

I -- He stopped short of telling Micah he'd considered not coming back. I'm rattled. I'm sorry.

"You needn't apologize to me. What you need is to see the family medic and have an escort home --"

No, no. I'm going to Council. I received a message from Elisa to get there as soon as I came in.

Don't be ridiculous, San. You're pale as a ghost and shaking. I don't think you really want to sit through a meeting, do you? And for a little extra incentive to go home instead, Ranifyn has already announced he will make an important speech today.

San winced at the thought of listening to one of the senior Councilor's special, important speeches. Councilor Ranifyn loved to hear himself speak. San didn't want to sit through it but then considered the alternatives.

Better Rani then Idela. I'll go to Council. I don't want anyone to make points on this one, Micah.

You weren't listening to the medtech. This isn't a game.

"Did you tell Elisa what happened when you left? What you thought happened?"

No, he said with a grimace. I didn't really think you had taken poison on purpose, San. You wouldn't do that to Elisa. I was just so rattled and scared when I saw you -- you looked like you were going to fall over dead at any moment.

He hadn't expected Micah's emotional outburst which rattled him again when he needed calm. He had to force himself to calm once more before he spoke. Elisa will know you were called away. She'll probably know you went to the port which meant trouble concerning me. She's going to be worried, San said, and Micha nodded, looking worried again. I'll go to Council, sit through Rani's speech -- what is it on this time?

"A statement of vast importance is all we've gotten. Elisa and I think he heard you were on the shuttle, and --"

He had a spy on the ship, San suddenly surmised.

That's what Elisa said, too. Amazing how much alike you two think. That's why Elisa ordered the ship's captain to make certain you were stone-cold sober when you reached landfall.

And saved my life. He rubbed at his sore arm, and winced. So, I have Rani to thank for being alive.

Unless he's the one who sent the assassin. Micah shook his head before San could protest. No, the last thing Rani wants is for you to look like a martyr.

Exactly. Let's go to Council. It doesn't matter if I'm not drunk, Micah, if I'm not there anyway. And I really don't want to go home to Idela yet. Yes, I'd much rather face the entire Council and a speech from Councilor Ranifyn instead.

You should divorce her.

Not until Elisa says so.

Micah's head came up with a start. Amazing to see General Taren startled twice in the same hour. Is that what you've been waiting on? Good God, Alsandor Vita! Elisa and I have spent months trying to figure out what the hell was stopping you!

Well you could have mentioned it to me! Elisa is the one who suggested I marry her, you know. What was I supposed to think?

Oh, damn. I'm sorry, San. This has been a stupid mistake from the beginning! She hoped to bribe Jarak with the promise of a claim to the Vita Fortune until outside protests against his other aggressions finally slowed him down. Unfortunately, no one outside really gives a damn.

I know. I came back from a very graphic exercise in learning how little they cared. He carefully pulled his jacket into place.

And you went along with the marriage, Micah said.

Absolutely. I don't want Jarak to take Dasan, either. A shame it didn't work. I think all Jarak really wanted was an heir to the entire Vita fortune.

Micah tilted his head as he looked at Alsandor. And you've been damned careful he doesn't get an heir, haven't you?

This something else you and Elisa talk about? San asked, feeling unexpectedly amused by the thought.

Oh yes. Your sex life is such a nice diversion from the threat of war.

San laughed and Micah grinned. I've done my best to make certain Idela didn't get a Vita heir, either naturally or through an implant. I like being alive, and I like my sister and you. Once Jarak and Idela had the child, they certainly wouldn't need any of us.

Right again. I don't know why Elisa never talked about this with you.

She didn't need to. She knew I understood, he said, and even felt better for the words. He finally took a step forward, catching hold of Micah's chair for a long moment before he dared nod. "I can handle this. You know the real unanswered question in my marriage? Why has Idela stayed all this time? Wish I could get an answer out of her for that one. At least we know as long as she's in Kaiton, we're all safe. Jarak wouldn't jeopardize her safety."

Micah nodded as he moved towards the door, and didn't look much steadier than Alsandor.

San? Micah asked, a hand gently touching his shoulder. You look like hell. You don't have to go to this meeting and you don't have to go home either. I trust the medtech, but I'd feel better if you went to the hospital instead. I'll make certain you aren't disturbed there by anyone and Idela and Jarak be damned.

No, I need the distraction, Micah. Really. I don't want to be alone right now.

Micah finally nodded, brushed down his own hair and straightened his jacket. He stood more than a head taller than Alsandor who always felt like a younger brother when he walked with the General.

Let's go before Elisa does come looking for us, Micah said.

They walked out through the lobby where the reporters, unexpectedly finding they had a story after all, shouted questions until General Taren ordered them away. Alsandor said nothing as they crossed the redstone floor and out into the too bright light of early morning. His head pounded at the assault of noise and sun and his step finally faltered. Micah put a hand on his shoulder and steered him to the right and the large, official aircar on the walkway right outside the Port Tower's front door --another sign of how frantic he really must have been. The realization embarrassed and touched Alsandor.

They hadn't far to go to the Capitol Building. Once the pilot took them up Micah again tried to talk him out of going in and then insisted on accompanying him. Alsandor didn't argue with having the company.

Alsandor touched his arm, purposely probing at the burn mark, reminding himself that someone had tried to kill him.

Yes, things had changed at home.

Chapter 2

Kwillian Kim had arrived on the same shuttle as Alsandor Vita, which proved a fortuitous and unexpected boon for her. People watched the younger Vita heir and didn't look twice at the tall, dark-skinned woman who left the shuttle four people behind the councilor.

So she arrived on Dasan without incident. The genescan revealed nothing extraordinary when she passed through. She had no criminal record but only because no one had records on Lindy Pirates. She slipped through security with less trouble than some natives had coming home.

Kwi looked forward to the work of organizing local underground groups, preparing them for battles fought more often with brains than weapons. People didn't expect Lindy Pirates to be freedom fighters, but for her people this had proven to be an easy step. Besides, Jarak infringed on their usual work, being far better at taking what wasn't his than even the most legendary of Lindy Pirates. Her people grabbed cargoes now and then; Jarak took whole worlds.

Kwi slipped off to the side of the lobby and found a chair, placing her bag at her feet and leaning back, looking relaxed. She enjoyed watching the Vita boy take on the press like a pro although the line about his wife won a snicker even from her. Amusing and unintentional, if she could judge by how he blushed.

What did surprise her, and everyone else, was the attempt on Alsandor Vita's life.

If she'd had any prior indication of trouble, Kwi would have been faster to follow the assassin. She had automatically marked the position of everyone around her, a result of years of training. As soon as Alsandor Vita collapsed, she stood and moved, knowing where the assassin had gone. Grabbing her bag, she darted down the walkway between shuttle gates, chasing after him though he'd already disappeared.

Then, cursing at her own stupidity, she realized half the guard in Kaiton would be looking for anyone suspicious. She quickly turned back to the lobby. As she had expected, two guards reached her as she came out of the hall. Kwi gave them her best, disarming smile -- the one she had worked on for years. She held out her ID chit and they ran it through the pocket comp one of them held. Old equipment and a bit outdated. If they'd run the ID through the Lindy-made pocket comp she carried it would have told them the chit was a fake.

Kwillian Kim, Sofi Islands, the first guard said. Do you want to explain why you were following the other man?

Following? she asked, glancing over her shoulder, feigning confusion. The accent was a very good imitation of the local one, which she had learned from her grandfather, whom Kwi had mimicked from an early age. That old tie made this assignment perfect for her. I didn't see anyone else in the hall.

The guard held out the comp and showed her a vid sequence. She watched a man who knew how to keep his head bowed away from the cams -- yes, well-planned. He knew the place. A professional. Nice of the guards to share so much information with her. Then she watched herself, tall, dark and lanky, moving along at a good clip not far behind the man, though he had already turned down a side hall. If she had known, she would have kept following --

Oh yes, she said and nodded emphatically. That's me.

Why did you run?

Kwi looked down at her feet and then back up. I just spent a year on Enil. When there's trouble there, you get away as fast as you can before the Verdi Elite show up. I was half way down the hall before I realized there aren't any Elite on this world. So I turned around and came back.

The answer worked because they knew she hadn't met the man. Their questions allowed her to do a little of her own assignment, hinting at the trouble people faced with the damned Verdi Elite in charge.

Thank you for your cooperation, the guard said, handing back her ID. May I ask, given the situation on Dasan, why you're coming here now?

I wanted to be home, she said. I haven't been here in years and I thought. . . . Well, the other choice is to leave the Aquila Fringe completely. At least I have family here.

He nodded and asked no more, which unsettled Kwi. The acceptance said volumes about the current atmosphere in the army, and in ways she couldn't have gleaned from Vidline reports. These people expected Jarak to arrive and they expected him to win. This was a logical belief, but the attitude and acceptance would make Kwi's work harder.

We'll check your answers, but I expect there won't be any trouble. We'll have this business settled soon. I see you're taking the Sofi shuttle in two hours. It shouldn't be delayed.

Thank you.

She went to the nearest row of chairs and settled once more, trying not to fidget as they worked their way through the rest of the room while interviewing everyone. She watched as General Taren arrived and not long afterwards a shaken Alsandor left with him. At least he walked away, and from what she heard the medic say to the reporters, it had been a matter of luck.

Kwi wanted answers, but she knew she didn't dare ask. Instead, she bowed her head, closed her eyes, and concentrated on listening to the people around her.

I don't know why, a man said a few chairs away. Why would anyone do that to Elisa?

Odd line, since the attempt had been on Alsandor's life, though the man did have a point. Elisa Vita Taren would have suffered at the loss of her brother. Did someone want the President of Kai occupied with a personal crisis right now?

Jarak might, of course, but he wasn't the only one. Director Ivas of the Anon District might want a distraction if he planned to make another push at the border. She had heard rumors of preparation for such an action, which annoyed the hell out of her. She liked to think the people she came to help were better than the Verdi.

Being a spy was such a damn, tedious strain on her morals.

The crowd of uneasy people began to thin as soon as the guards let them go. The reporters left first, and then gradually the travelers. Eventually, another shuttle came down from the station and right afterwards they announced boarding for the flight to the Sofi Islands. Not many people remained in the huge lobby. Most everyone stayed close to home these days.

Wise people. She thought about home and the Lindy asteroids and wondered what she was really doing here.

Kwi stood and stretched, picking up her single bag and throwing the strap across her shoulder. She headed down the hall with the ten others. Almost there; almost time to start work again.

She marked the people heading off the shuttle for Dasan and recognized one. The short, dark-haired man walked beside someone who kept his head bowed. The shock of a familiar face almost made her react badly, despite years of training. At first she thought she'd found the assassin but her mind put a name to the face, and the rest of the information quickly filtered in. She didn't face an enemy: Haden was another Lindy who did work much like her own.

They passed each other and she saw Haden's eyes flicker towards her as they neared, her own surprise mirrored there. The realization that two top Lindy spies arrived separately on Dasan within hours of each other confirmed trouble couldn't be long behind. Kwi wondered who Haden accompanied or was it only chance he walked with the the other to draw less attention? She didn't think so, the way the other one never looked up and Haden stayed close. Kwi and Haden passed each other without outward notice. She entered the shuttle and found a seat.

She had a four hour flight from Kaiton to the Sofi Islands and Kwillian suddenly worried about the waste of even that much time. Things were moving, and she desperately wanted to get somewhere, gather information, and prepare for the war.

Chapter 3

People crowded into the upper gallery of the Council Chamber, the myriad colors of clothing clashing with the ample sprinkling of somber black Kai Army Uniforms. A half dozen IWC Observers in white uniforms sat in a group in one corner, drawing worried looks from the crowd and the councilors. Alsandor hadn't seen this many soldiers, of any type, at a Council meeting in the last decade.

Reporters clustered near the IWC Observers, no doubt hoping to get any reaction from them while covering the council. He saw one attempt to get an interview but the man waved him away.

So the reporters settled in for the real show; the weekly meeting of the Council of Kai.

A shame everyone had come to watch a Council of fools. If anyone expected a decision on the impending danger Jarak represented, they were going to be terribly disappointed.

If he didn't look at the unusually large crowd, this seemed all so damned normal that Alsandor could almost forget he'd been gone for ten months standard. He had settled in his chair with his aching, left arm in his lap and waited. Micah took a moment to talk with Elisa and he saw councilors glance his way, but no one seemed to realize anything was wrong. Elisa glanced at Alsandor too often, but the council meeting went ahead as planned. Crop reports. Trade agreements. Normality.

As soon as Senior Councilor Ranifyn began his very important speech, Alsandor turned his attention to studying the table. The speech turned out to be nothing more than another rehash of Rani's usual call for compromise with Verdi, although with a few new numbers tacked on to update the tirade. Alsandor tried desperately not to listen. Unlike most of the spectators, he'd heard this set of lines far too many times already and he probably could have given the speech himself.

The Councilor had started his crusade for conciliation with Jarak when the Verdi General had taken over the governments of the small colonies on Enil and Milanda. Ranifyn had yet to find any reason to change the basic content of the recitation, despite Jarak's forced control of Jade. Ranifyn considered the present situation as a chance to ally with someone powerful who would offer agriculturally inclined Kai (and the rest of Dasan) expansion for their markets.

If Alsandor hadn't known the man all his life, he might have suspected Rani of being Jarak's agent. However, the Councilor had always looked for the road of least resistance through any trouble, small or large. For the last eighteen years his obsession for compromise had kept Rani in power. However, for those eighteen years there had been no crisis important enough to challenge his views. And now, when they needed strength, they were stuck listening to another round of facts and figures taken straight from Jarak's reports. Why look any farther when the numbers were given to him?

Ranifyn paused in his speech, tossing back his head of silver hair. The strands caught bright sunlight streaking through the diamond glass of the dome above them. He'd look very good on the Vidline services. Alsandor always thought Rani would have made a better actor than a politician.

Cooperation and compromise, Ranifyn continued with a tone of fatherly advice. Unfortunately, he turned his paternal, indulgent look on Madame President Elisa Vita Taren. She met his stare without a blink. Alsandor appreciated his sister's acting ability far more than Ranifyn's theatrics. Jarak of Verdi has always remained cordial with us, Rani reminded her and everyone else. We must never let the misguided cries of a few malcontents on other worlds color what is best for Kai and Dasan. We can make our own judgments. We do, after all, have special ties with Jarak.

The reference to Alsandor's own ill-begotten marriage brought San's head straight up, though the sharp pain through his arm made him gasp and kept him from speaking. By the time he got his breath back, Rani had moved on and Alsandor realized he honestly didn't care. Though, surely Elisa wouldn't let Rani go on much longer, would she? He had rambled on well past the time limit set by the bylaws, and they must have other work to do. Wasn't there something far more important on the agenda like perhaps arranging the annual flower planting festival?

Alsandor glanced at his sister and found Elisa staring at the table, her hands palm-down on the wood. Alsandor moved his chair in a subtle attempt to get her attention, which had been a signal between them in the past. Elisa purposely looked away from him and Alsandor accepted that as a sign.

We must compromise our pride --

Shall we compromise our freedom as well, Ranifyn? Alsandor asked. "Because we are the last free world in the Aquila Fringe."

People gasped and went still in the upper galley. Both the Vidline crews and IWC Observers took a sudden interest. At least he had given them a better show than Rani.

Surprised in mid-sentence, Ranifyn floundered for a moment. His mouth opened twice without a sound before he spun on Alsandor.

"You may be brother to the President, and her choice as Council Advisor, but you are not our equal, boy. You have no right --"

No right? Even when my marriage is going to save us from war? Alsandor mocked. He knew his smile looked more akin to a snarl and he had to fight to keep himself within the bounds. I'm sorry it never saved me from one.

His words won scattered laughter throughout the rotunda. San saw Elisa clamping her mouth shut against amusement rather than rage. Ranifyn, however, had reddened from his neck to his perfect silver hair.

Your entire attitude is reprehensible. You obviously don't take this Council seriously. You come here, half drunk --

I am, in fact, entirely sober, Alsandor answered.

"Looking like that? You can't think we're all as easily fooled as your sister."

Alsandor wondered how he looked. He supposed he would find out when he saw the vid reports, later.

I can assure you San is quite sober, Councilor, Elisa finally said. In fact, I can have it medically confirmed right now if you're determined to make an issue of the matter. Alsandor looks a little rough today because someone tried to kill him when he arrived at the Port.

Ranifyn made a sound of disbelief. Why would anyone -- and caught himself in what would have been a wonderful line, coming from Rani instead of Micah. You can't be serious.

Trine Poison, in fact, Elisa said, her voice trembling in what was clearly not an act. San looked back at her, surprised by the show of emotion, and even Rani held whatever he had been about to say. He would be dead if he hadn't taken Anticol earlier today, insuring he was, in fact, sober before he ever reached Dasan.

Until she spoke, Alsandor hadn't realized the attack had so badly upset Elisa. He couldn't remember a time when she'd shown so much emotion in Council and he saw shocked faces everywhere around the table.

I can't believe -- Ranifyn began and stopped again. Alsandor hadn't heard the politician make so many near disastrous statements in a matter of heartbeats in his entire life.

I believe the report is already running on Vidline, Elisa said, glancing back at the reporters. May we have a feed for Council, please?

It isn't necessary. I believe there must have been some incident, Rani said, his eyes narrowing.

"I think it wise we all watch what happened, Elisa replied. If Kai Councilors are being targeted by assassins, I would think you would like to see what we face. I wouldn't send any of you away unaware of the potential danger. Unless, of course, you have some reason to believe there was another motive behind the attack?"

Alsandor couldn't believe Elisa even faintly suggested Ranifyn had anything to do with the attempt on her brother's life. Alsandor lifted his hand in a simple gesture to calm her. She nodded and looked away from the older Councilor who suddenly appeared all too anxious to get clear of the attention. He went back to his seat by the lovely Councilor Karlia, his usual protégé, without another comment.

Alsandor supposed this was a win of sorts, but he felt ill by the exchange and wished he'd let Rani talk all night instead. He fumbled for a glass of water, and nodded gratefully when Councilor Azami, seated to his right, poured it for him.

Vidline ran the report straight to the individual table comps, as well as to the larger screens on the chamber walls. Unfortunately, they started with the interview so he had to listen to all his inane and already forgotten answers, along with his unintentional quip about Idela. Those words won a little twitter of amusement from some of the people in the gallery. Added to the one he'd made linking their marriage and war, and he could imagine the interesting conversation he'd have with Idela when he finally went home.

One disaster after another today.

On the screen he acquitted himself with the reporters and turned to walk away. A moment later he heard Bela's little statement about him being sober. San winced hearing the words again.

Then the figure moved up to his side -- head bowed, dark clothes and hat. The man -- the assassin -- looked a little awkward, touching Alsandor's arm, and moving off in another direction.

Alsandor signaled Micah to the table and he came nearly at a run. You want to leave? Micah asked, kneeling by the chair, a hand on San's knee.

No, no. I saw something on the vid. He lowered his voice and bent closer to Micah's ear. I could be totally wrong, but I think Bela tried to draw my attention, to get me to turn back. I think the assassin wasn't in the right position.

Well. Micah closed his eyes, obviously running the scene through his mind. Then he looked back at Alsandor. Could be. I'll look into it.

Thanks.

Micah stood and carefully patted his shoulder before moving back to his seat. Alsandor saw him immediately typing in orders. Bela would not be happy with this