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"It nearly went down, but Inigis, ignoring the order confining him to his cabin for his alleged attempt on the Consul Assessor's life, took command again and saved the day by detonating a second weapon in another silo, thus changing his ship's trajectory. His actions will of course be taken into account when he comes to trial."

"What are you up to, Harald?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question."

"We two are driven; we studied hard and we learned, and have now attained high positions in Sudorian society. I have only one more step yet to make to become Director of Corisanthe Main, but my work sufficiently satisfies me that I'm prepared to wait until Director Gneiss steps down." Yishna frowned as if remembering something unpleasant, then shook her head and continued, "What are you waiting for, Harald—and are you waiting at all?"

"The stratified ranking system of Fleet will not allow me to take the position of Admiral, since Captain Dravenik gets precedence. However, as Fleet Tacom I now hold more power in fact than Carnasus holds in name. Standing at his shoulder, I've reached the highest position I can attain without a major readjustment of the ranking system."

"And killing the Polity Consul Assessor helps this how?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you'd better ask the Brumallians that."

Yishna just stared at him for a long moment before going on: "It may be that the Polity does not represent as much of a danger as you might think."

"Our affairs here are complicated enough as they are without outside interference," Harald snapped, not sure why he suddenly felt so angry.

"David McCrooger was a very interesting person…" Yishna trailed off, staring at something distant. "I…I thought I would be able to easily play him, understand his motivations and the true intent of this Polity, but every time I began to feel I knew what he was all about, some new level to him was revealed." She focused on Harald. "Like sometimes when you talk to someone intelligent and old, you keep uncovering layers of complexity."

"Perhaps that is precisely what he is," Harald replied. "We don't know how good their medical science is, so he may have been much older than he looked. I in fact think that rather likely."

"I asked him about their policy regarding imprisoned sentients, should the Polity take over here."

Harald felt something go quiet inside him, waiting. Every sound in this room suddenly became intense and every object clearly denned and subject to his full perception.

"His reply?" he asked casually.

Yishna's nictitating membranes flicked closed, giving her eyes an opaque sheen. "He told me that in the case of corrupt totalitarian regimes they grant a full amnesty to all prisoners, though those guilty of capital crimes are checked for socio- or psychopathic tendencies. But because our regime is not such, cases would be individually reviewed under Polity law, and those found innocent of any crime would be released. But Polity intercession is unlikely."

"Reviewed under Polity law," Harald repeated. "Your impression?"

Now, in a noticeably flat tone, his sister replied, "I am sure that those unjustly imprisoned would be released no matter who or what they are."

Harald felt himself returning to a more normal level of perception. Yishna's nictitating membranes opened and she looked about with annoyance.

"It happened again," she said.

"It often happens when we meet after being apart for some time."

She glanced up at him. "It's some sort of communication—non-verbal."

"It is," Harald agreed, "but I fail to divine its purpose." He paused for a moment then asked, "How goes your research into the Worm?"

Yishna shook her head as if dispelling idiocy. "I can record bleed-over now—not telepathic inductance after all, but some inductance phenomena related to underspace." She was now fidgeting, as if bored with this conversation.

"Which the Polity would know all about, of course. It is a shame that David McCrooger is now dead, for he could perhaps have helped you in many ways."

"Yes, a shame."

Harald continued, "However, I rather suspect that David McCrooger is not the Polity's only envoy here within our system, and for my purposes I would rather there were none here at all."

"Your purposes?"

"Yishna, much as it's pleasant to chat to you, perhaps we can take this up later?"

"What are your purposes, Harald?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss Fleet matters with someone so high up in Orbital Combine, sister."

"Would that I could believe 'your purposes' concern only Fleet." Yishna put aside her cup and stood. "We should discuss this further."

"Yes, perhaps later."

Yishna glanced at his coms helmet and glove, then turned and departed.

Harald sat for a long moment with the polished wheels of his mind turning. Some input in the recent conversation had changed his attitude to McCrooger, but that did not alter his overall plan, and his feeling that the Consul Assessor was best out of the way, permanently. He stood and went to retrieve his helmet and glove, donning them almost with relief. Opening a com channel he waited. After a moment a woman's face peered at him from his eye-screen—cropped grey hair and bitter mouth, and a thin face deeply grooved with lines and a permanent look of disapproval. He rather suspected her sour mien was due to years of fighting her way up through a patriarchal organisation.

"Jeon," he acknowledged. "Update?"

She glanced at something to one side then said, "I am still analysing the data. The trace separated on the surface—one part of it remaining inland, and the other travelling fast over land and sea to the escape-pod, then back again."

"So there is either one conjoined object or two separate objects that have remained together until now?"

She nodded. "So it would seem. It also strikes me as likely that, whatever it is, it rescued the Consul Assessor."

Harald sat back. "I will ask Special Operations on Brumal to…solve that problem. They will enjoy the challenge. But that is irrelevant for my purposes right now. If the Polity is interventionist, it seems this unknown object is the greatest danger to us. You have detected nothing else?"

"Nothing so far, but that's not to say there's nothing more here. It was pure luck that we picked up on this thing—luck and the application of some recent research results from Corisanthe Main."

"I must work on the assumption that there is only this one…maybe two." Harald grimaced—he did not like making assumptions. "You're still tracking?"

"The trace is sitting five hundred miles above the ReconYork, holding station there."

"Very well, Jeon. I want you to prepare a five-megaton warhead—fully shielded and EM hardened—for simple contact detonation, and allowing coded detonation from here." Jeon frowned her puzzlement, and he explained, "There will be a retaliatory strike made against the Brumallians for their attack on Inigis's ship. We will then see if the Polity is prepared to intervene, and perhaps we can remove their ability to do so."

"I see."

"Let me know when you're ready. The missile is to go into Silo Fourteen."

Harald cut their communication and opened another channel. After a moment, a man gazed out at him.

"Captain Franorl, you will shortly be receiving instructions, through the usual channels, to replace Dravenik on Corisanthe Watch," said Harald.

"To whom do I owe this honour?"

"To me, as always."

"I see."

"As per the agreement between Orbital Combine and Fleet, Combine observers will be sent over to your ship while you are on station watching Corisanthe Main. You are to know where they are at all times, because at a certain time they will attempt to sabotage the Desert Wind."