But the chaos attack hadn’t been the only burst of sabotage. Several other computer cores had been infected with chaos viruses, a number of processors had been reprogrammed to pass imperfect starship components while rejecting perfectly good ones and two Blackshirt training camps had been sent poison instead of conditioning drugs. Thousands of young men were now dead, setting the entire program back weeks if not months. No, the underground was getting bolder — and pushing the limits as far as they would go. He wouldn’t be surprised to discover that they already had operatives on dozens of starships and orbital platforms.
“So we act,” Lord Bernadotte snapped. “Send down the Blackshirts and flush the damn bastards out. God knows we cannot allow this to continue.”
Tiberius had to admit he was right. Home Fleet was in a poor condition, even without active sabotage. If there were more life support failures, crewmen would start deserting in droves –or contemplating mutiny. The life expectancy of a starship that mutinied in Earth orbit would be very low, but it would be able to do considerable damage to the planet before it was destroyed. Who knew what would happen if someone sabotaged other parts of the defences?
“The underground is very good at hiding,” Lord Rothschild countered. “The effort might be futile.”
“Then have the crews switched around,” Tiberius snapped. “While we’re at it, we might want to provide additional security for our employees. They can be threatened into working for the underground even if they’re not inclined to turn on us.”
He’d forced himself to watch Marian Fairchild’s entire interrogation, from beginning to end, even though he’d thrown up twice. Imperial Intelligence had not been gentle; they’d beaten her, inserted torture implants into her skull and even threatened her children in front of her eyes. But, in the end, they’d discovered that the children had been kidnapped… and that the kidnappers were long gone. By the time the security forces had started to sweep the Luna warrens, it was too late even to identify them. He’d signed the execution order knowing that Marian had been forced to serve the underground. But there had been no choice. An example had to be made.
It had taken weeks to flush out the chaos virus — or, for that matter, the virus that had somehow made its way into Public Information’s computers. Before anyone knew what had happened, an underground-produced report had been uploaded into the datanet and distributed to everyone in the Sol System. The code had ensured that billions of people had seen the report before it had been wiped from the system. And the report claimed that the Thousand Families were on the brink of losing control of the Empire.
The only upside is that we weren’t the only ones hit, he thought. The Cicero Family wouldn’t be blamed for being careless if all of the families had been targeted. But we’re no closer to actually winning the war.
He glanced down at the latest report from Morrison as Lord Bernadotte and Lord Rothschild resumed their argument, the other Family Heads lining up on one side or the other. Admiral Wachter was still making enemies, but thankfully the sabotage campaign had distracted the Families Council from considering the matter. The Admiral was optimistic about their chances when the rebels finally attacked; Tiberius could only hope he was right.
The argument seemed to be winding down, so he took a chance and jumped in. “We need to finally appoint someone to command Home Fleet,” he said. “I believe that Lord Rothschild has a proposal.”
Lord Rothschild tossed him an inscrutable look, then nodded. “Admiral Foster would appear to be our best bet,” he said. “He has ties to the Thousand Families, but never showed interest in anything more than squadron command up until his retirement. While Home Fleet is larger than anything he has commanded prior to retirement, I believe he would meet all three of our requirements.”
Tiberius concealed his amusement. It said a great deal about the Empire that only one of the requirements involved actually defeating the rebels. The Families Council was more worried about not upsetting the balance of power and not accidentally creating a second Empress, someone who used Home Fleet to take control of the Empire. But then, Admiral Foster would not command Earth’s fixed or orbital defences. If he did turn on the Empire, he couldn’t win before the spies on his ship killed him. Or so they hoped.
There was another long debate, but no one seemed to want to prolong the argument long enough to make it go away. Instead, Admiral Foster was formally recalled from retirement and assigned to command Home Fleet. Tiberius hoped — prayed — that they’d finally broken the logjam in time to prepare Home Fleet for battle, then tried to tune out as much of the ensuring debate as possible. His father had once told him that the Families Council was only allowed to make one resolution per day. Tiberius knew that wasn’t actually true, but it might as well have been.
Afterwards, he disconnected from the network and walked back into his office. Sharon was waiting for him, along with two officers from the personnel department. Tiberius took his chair, then turned to face them. They promptly bowed deeply, then relaxed.
“I don’t have much time,” Tiberius said. It was a lie, but lower-ranking officers — particularly ones with only weak family ties — were prone to going on and on, trying to exaggerate their own importance. “Have you completed the moves?”
“Yes, sir,” the senior officer said. “Everyone with a family has had the family moved to a secure complex, guarded by Household Troops. The facilities are being improved even as we speak, but the costs…”
“Fuck the costs,” Tiberius snapped. One chaos virus attack, launched by someone whose children had been at risk, had cost trillions of credits and a number of lives. If they’d missed one fragment of the virus, just one, it might reform and start infecting computer cores again. “I want everyone to know that their families are safe!”
“Yes, sir,” the senior officer said.
Tiberius understood his surprise. The Thousand Families had never been good at caring for their workers, apart from the handful who showed enough promise to be brought into the Families — and that had grown rarer and rarer as the Thousand Families solidified their grip on power. But now the underground was using that weakness against them. A person who might have been so completely loyal that they’d passed countless security checks could be turned in an instant, if their families were harmed. It was worth some expense to ensure that the families were protected.
But the logistics were staggering. There were millions of employees on Earth. Protecting all of their families was a difficult task…
“It will be handled,” Sharon assured him.
Tiberius nodded. “One other matter,” he added. “You will ensure that the Fairchild children are sent to a good home. They don’t need to be overshadowed by the past.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Sharon said. She didn’t seem surprised by his decision. “Should they be assigned to a colony world?”
“Somewhere reasonably decent,” Tiberius ordered. He looked up at the two personnel officers. “I want your full reports by the end of the week.”
They left, no doubt glad to be away from Tiberius. Sharon remained, looking down at him with an odd expression on her face. After a moment, Tiberius quirked an eyebrow. She looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded in understanding.
“You’re being kind to the children,” she said. “That’s better than your peers would have done.”