Gregory Sanders walked across the grass, still limping along on his cane but otherwise recovered from his wounds. The federals had treated him well, and he’d been released immediately after the truce was signed. Greg had wanted to go to Mars himself as Arcadia’s representative, but in the end he’d sent Kyle Warren instead. He was just too old to make the trip, as much as he tried to ignore the constraints of mortality. Besides, he wasn’t about to leave Kara alone, not after all she’d been through.
He saw Kara sitting, holding little William, and he flashed her a warm smile. The new prime minister of Arcadia paused and looked up at the statue. He, too, felt Will’s loss acutely. “Well, my friend, we did what we set out to do, more or less.” The Confederation Agreement didn’t provide for true colonial independence, but it did guarantee the rights of the colonies to manage their own internal affairs without interference. It was a good result, the best they realistically could have achieved now. “We couldn’t have gotten here without you.”
One day, Sanders thought, still staring up at Thompson’s likeness, they will come again and try to take back what we have gained by blood and sacrifice. If they do, he swore to himself, they will pay a heavy price, at least on Arcadia. He prayed his people would never again live under an oppressive government, though in the back of his mind there were doubts. Would they be able to avoid the mistakes the people of Earth had made? They had their chance at freedom too, and they lost it – some would say they threw it away. Would Arcadians five or ten generations from now appreciate what they inherited? Or would they go down the same path to tyranny? Only the march of time would tell.
For now, Gregory Sanders put his arm around his grand-daughter and his great-grandson, and they all turned and walked slowly across the field, leaving behind the great bronze statue and its simple inscription, stenciled in platinum: General William Thompson, Father of the Republic of Arcadia.
Chapter 34
Gavin Stark sat on the edge of the bed, the satin sheets, moist with perspiration, clinging to his legs and lower back. His face was grim, his stare focused on nothing really, just an imaginary point in space. His thoughts were dark, blacker even than those that normally dwelt in the sociopathic recesses of his twisted mind. His waking dream was one of vengeance.
Alex Linden was lying partially under the sheet, the rumpled material arranged over her naked body in just the right places, a tool of seduction she employed almost unconsciously. She was silent, her head propped up on the pillow, watching Stark carefully. She reached toward his shoulder but pulled her hand back. He’d been jumpy since Dutton’s death…less predictable, more brutal even than before. She’d never realized just how much he had relied on the old man, and she was worried. It seemed to her that Stark, always tightly wound, was on the verge of truly snapping. What that could mean - for her, for the others in Alliance Intelligence, for God knows who else - she could only guess.
“It is fortuitous that we delayed reuniting you with your long-lost sister. It will prove far more useful to our current needs.” Stark’s voice was calm, but it was different than before. Stark had always been ruthless, unrestrained by typical ethical and moral constraints, but not really sadistic. He didn’t hesitate to use torture, but he didn’t especially enjoy it either. He just wanted results, and he didn’t care how he got them. Now, though, she could hear the rage, the darkness…the madness.
He looked at her, his face slightly contorted despite his efforts to hide his fiery anger. “General Cain will undoubtedly be among the inner circle of the reformed Marine Corps.” She could see his hand, partially hidden by the sheet. It was balled into a tight fist, the veins in his lower arm protruding. “We can now arrange a reunion with your dear sister, putting you in a perfect position to gain intel on their activities.”
Alex just looked at him attentively as he spoke. He was too unpredictable right now; she wasn’t willing to chance offering any real input, not until she knew what he had in mind.
“They think this is over, these rebel vermin.” He’d be damned if he was going to call them Confederates, despite the Confederation Agreement the President had signed. Been forced to sign. “But this is merely an interlude. They will pay, all of them…and those interfering Martians too.” His voice was thick with hatred. “They will pay if I have to exterminate every one of them and repopulate those worlds.”
Alex just listened, nodding slightly whenever Stark looked back over his shoulder at her. She didn’t particularly disagree with what he was saying, though she couldn’t imagine what options they would have…at least for a number of years. It would take a long time to build enough Directorate-controlled military force to take on and defeat the colonies, especially with the navy and the re-organized Marines protecting them. Meanwhile, they were just going to have to undermine the new Colonial Confederation however they could and bide their time.
“We know that your sister is Cain’s lover. Reuniting you with her will give you access to him as well. I want you to use that…I want you to become an expert in their organization, deployments…everything. When the time is right we will be prepared.”
His voice was becoming louder, more brittle. She didn’t particularly relish the idea of spending what could be years among the earnest, and now partially independent, colonials, but she couldn’t argue with the logic of the assignment. She would be well-positioned to get valuable intelligence, and she didn’t doubt there would eventually be a rematch between Alliance Gov and its wayward colonies.
She had mixed feelings about seeing her sister again. Alex had been eight years old the last time she’d seen Sarah – the day the men had come to take her away. Her beautiful older sister had attracted the eye of a powerful politician, and her resistance to his advances brought ruin to the entire family. Alex hated her for what she had done, now as much as then. If Sarah had gone along, Alex thought, if she’d willingly agreed, the entire family would have benefited. Instead, their mother and father ended up dead, and Alex was left alone to survive in the urban wastelands. She still had nightmares of some of the things she’d had to do to survive back then. She got through it all and clawed her way to power and privilege…all the while thinking her hated older sister was dead. Until the day Gavin Stark told her otherwise.
“It is Cain and his cohorts who are the architects of our misfortune. Had we held control of the navy for six months more we would have crushed the rebellion.” Stark’s voice dripped with searing hatred when he mentioned Cain. “Now we will use him for information…information we will utilize to destroy his new Marine Corps, and the miserable dustball worlds it is so determined to defend.” He paused for a long moment, glaring the entire time at the same imaginary spot.
Finally, he broke the silence. “I know you want the Second Seat.” He twisted his torso so he was facing her. “I want you to complete this mission. And I want you to do one more thing for me before you are finished.” He paused, just for a second. “If you do, I will name you Number Two.”
She’d had her eyes on Dutton’s Seat for as long as she could remember, wanting it, aching for the power and prestige. Alex was a master at controlling herself, but she couldn’t suppress her reaction completely, not for this thing she had wanted for so long. Stark smiled; he knew he had her.
“What is it you want me to do?” Her voice was strong, firm. She wasn’t going to let the Second Seat slip away…not when she’d waited so long for that detestable old fool to die. Not when it put her one very fragile heartbeat away from total power.