“Justice,” Antonov said.
“No. Civil war, that’s what. And last time I checked, the EIF is not on the winning side.”
“Last time you checked, there wasn’t any evidence of Tal-Kader’s involvement with Isaac Reiner’s assassination,” Antonov said. The man was calm, collected, a leader who had rehearsed this conversation many times over. “Now we have a symbol. The people will rally with us. Not all corporations are friends with Tal-Kader, and even the SA may turn against them. After all, there’s still a government in the Edge, and they claim to uphold Reiner’s values and legacy.”
“You’ll bet innocent blood on it,” Clarke said. He shook his head. It was clear he wasn’t getting through to Antonov. The man’s mind was already watching the parades held in his honor.
Clarke tried another angle. “What if she’s dead? Travel to Jagal from Dione takes six months. That’s another seven or so more until the EIF reaches Dione. That’s an entire year the enforcers have to find her, and they’re on her trail already.”
“Revolutions come with risks, friend Clarke,” said Antonov. He smiled, like he was privy to a particular joke. “But in this case, we have assurance. Remember the agent the enforcers captured?”
“The one that erased her mind to avoid being tortured? Yeah, I remember.”
“There’s a second one. Name’s Daneel Hirsen. The last known survivor of the Newgen agent batch. A living legend. He tipped us off about the Reiners before the enforcers sent the message. That’s how we knew when to look for the laser.”
Clarke almost didn’t believe his ears. “I had no idea the EIF employed Newgen’s agents.”
“These were an independent group. See for yourself. I have the message with me.”
Antonov opened a new holographic window. A man very unlike Strauze was staring at Clarke with a focused, uncaring frown that encompassed the entire feed. Hirsen’s eyes had the color of static.
“Ruben Antonov. My name is Daneel Hirsen. We’ve never met before, but I have information of value to your group. I’ve attached proof to this file, but I can’t say as much as I know in case the courier gets intercepted. You understand, I’m sure. Examine the risk-reward equation of trusting me at your own leisure.”
“You trust this guy?” Clarke asked.
“He’s solid, as far as I’m aware,” Antonov said. “His information checks out, and the enforcers’ message confirmed it. If it’s a trap, it’s far beyond anything Tal-Kader has ever managed before.”
Hirsen went on to repeat what Major Strauze had told the Tal-Kader Board. Reiner’s wife and daughter had been protected by Newgen after his assassination. At least the daughter was still alive, and Hirsen’s group was in the process of finding her.
“We believe she’s hiding on planet Dione,” Hirsen said. “I’m in contact with local resistance. We’ll find her. But the same information that pointed us to her is in the hands of the enforcers orbiting Outlander. They’ll draw the same conclusions we did, and if words reaches Jagal…well, you understand, of course. My group lacks the firepower to extract Isabella Reiner from Dione. That’s where your group comes in. To get you time to reach us, my team will infiltrate the enforcer’s HQ and try to delete their data. If you don’t hear from me again, I’m either dead, or in hiding. Upon your arrival, transmit a message to the following coordinates and local resistance will coordinate the extraction—”
At no time did Hirsen’s expression change. It was like his mind had already finished telling the message. Antonov cut the feed.
“See, Clarke? The EIF has more allies than what the SA propaganda tells you. And with Isabella by our side, we can win this revolution. Create a free Edge, just like Reiner himself wanted. Will you help? No one in the Independent fleet knows the Defense Fleet as much as you do. Help us fight them, Clarke. Help us save that woman.”
It was a monumental decision. The exact kind of decision that Clarke had hoped he’d never have to make again. No matter what he chose, people would die.
There was only one thing he needed to know before he made his choice:
“What about Earth?”
Antonov shifted, clearly uncomfortable. None of the others had talked about Earth before leaving.
It’s easy to forget about the Mississippi orbiting Jagal when we’re not in range of its cannons.
“This is the Edge’s matter,” said Antonov, “with nothing to do with Earth. We’ll replace SA’s administrator with one loyal to the people, not to its corporate interest. Then, we’ll renegotiate with Earth. Maybe we’ll do so with a new Admiral at the head of the Defense Fleet. Maybe a hero of Broken Sky, the man who saved the lives of an entire orbital, and who helped save Reiner’s daughter.”
By “loyal to the people,” Antonov meant “loyal to the EIF,” hell, probably the EIF itself. Clarke wondered which corporation, exactly, was the one bankrolling Antonov’s lavish bottles and Free Traders.
Clarke had little doubt that, in the unlikely case the EIF got what it wanted, it would substitute a dictator for another one. The Officer Training School taught all its students that history was cyclical, and Clarke had no doubt that Antonov’s dreams of revolution were but another turn in a never-ending cog of war.
And yet…
“I’ll help you get her back,” Clarke told the man, making an effort to keep his voice steady. Even as he spoke, the weight of his decision threatened to overwhelm him. He knew he’d probably die before the year was over. “I’ll tell you all you need to know about fighting the Defense Fleet garrison. Hell, I’ll give the order to fire. I’ll carry that weight in my conscience. But, we save Isabelle Reiner, and that’s it. After, if we’re still alive, I’m out. Leave me in the first Backwater Planet we reach and forget about me. Say I died during the battle, that I ran away, whatever you want. We never speak again, Antonov.”
Antonov didn’t even wait a second before answering. “We have a deal,” he said. He offered Clarke a handshake which he accepted.
It was all that Clarke could stomach, at least today. The weight of his commitment poured over his shoulders, like an invisible waterfall. He kicked lightly against the floor, almost a caress, and vaulted toward the exit.
“Clarke!” Antonov called after him. “Why? We could make you the most powerful officer in the Edge. Why won’t you stay?”
Clarke shook his head. “You’ll fail, Antonov. Earth will never let you get away with your revolution. Push them, and they’ll destroy Jagal and take its oryza. You’re dreaming if you think the Mississippi is the only dreadnought they have.”
Antonov’s eyes shone with anger. “If you believe that, why help us at all?”
That was a great question, but Clarke wasn’t sure of the answer himself.
It is my only chance to make things right. The least I can do.
“Because we owe it to him,” he said as he stopped his flight at the doorway, “we owe it to him to save his daughter…whatever small chance we have. Because it wasn’t Tal-Kader who killed him, you know? We did. When we placed the weight of the Edge on his shoulders and asked him to do the impossible, he tried to make good on our trust. And it killed him.”
The anger evaporated from Antonov. He seemed to regard Clarke in a different light. “So, turns out that, in the end, you are as idealistic as any of us. For a moment, I thought Tal-Kader had broken your spirit.”
Clarke had nothing to say to that, so he left.
I’d thought so too, he told himself.
11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DELAGARZA
Delagarza awoke to find Nanny Kayoko standing guard over him. He tried to speak, but a spasm shot through his body and clenched his throat shut. He struggled and moaned, with the glare of the white LED above him leaving a burning imprint in his head, like a constant flash-bang.