“Very true, but if the citizens begin rioting, if they are provoked into rioting, my options will be limited,” Iceni said moodily.
“I understand. One thing Admiral Geary always emphasized to us was to think in terms of what the enemy wanted us to do, what the enemy expected us to do, and not to do those things. If agents hostile to you are trying to stir up your people, then they want you to do certain things in response to that.”
Iceni nodded, impressed that Black Jack had known that. But of course he knew that. Based on what he had accomplished, Black Jack was twice the political schemer that anyone else could ever be. “Yes. War and Syndicate politics have a lot in common. One of my own early mentors gave me the same advice. Never let the wolves herd you in the direction they want you to go, is what he said.”
“Do you have any idea what direction the wolves want you to go, Madam President?”
“I can only speculate,” Iceni said. “But my best guess is that they will want me to do things that foster an image contrary to what you suggested. They want to push me to act not as the leader of the people but in a typical Syndicate CEO manner, arrogant and dictatorial.”
Bradamont looked around the office. “A short time ago, you showed me how easily you can turn this office into a fortress, because Syndicate CEOs fear their own people. Is it possible your enemies will want you to act in that way as well, as someone who fears and distrusts the citizens rather than someone who is their leader? Something as simple as holing up in here would convey a powerful message. The citizens won’t believe that the government is their government if it is hiding behind walls and armed guards.”
“That would be the wrong kind of message,” Iceni agreed. “If I look fearful, I look weak, and if I am fearful of my own citizens, that means I don’t trust them, or that I am doing things that I don’t want them to know about. I would look very much like a Syndicate CEO and not like a president. Yes. Thank you for pointing that out. Distrust of the people, fear of the people we rule, is so much a part of the way I have been trained to think that I could easily have fallen into such displays without even realizing what I was doing.”
“How serious are your concerns at this moment?”
Iceni rested her head on one hand as she looked at Bradamont. “Captain, can you walk through a ship and feel the state of the crew? Their mood and their morale?”
“Yes,” Bradamont said.
“I can do the same with the citizens. Yes, I sometimes disguise myself and go out alone to walk among them. There’s no better way to get a sense of how they really feel, and there is an instability there that worries me. The citizens are the Achilles’ heel of this star system. Our opponents know that.”
“Can I speak of this to Colonel Rogero?”
Iceni considered the question before answering it. Anything Bradamont told Rogero would surely be passed to Drakon. “No.” She laughed. “My pardon, Madam Military Emissary of the Alliance. I can’t order you around. It is my wish that you not discuss the matter with Colonel Rogero as of yet.”
“I will respect your wishes in the matter, Madam President,” Bradamont replied. “But I will say that I do not believe that you have any grounds to fear General Drakon. He has given explicit orders to his commanders not to move against you.”
“Unless the orders to move against me come from him,” Iceni said wryly.
“He didn’t caveat the instructions at all, Madam President. He said do not move against the president. Period.”
Iceni looked at Bradamont, sitting with a straight-backed military posture, her uniform adorned with rank insignia and the ribbons representing medals and commendations won in long years of fighting against the Syndicate. It was hard to believe that a woman who had been through so much could be so naïve. Drakon knew that Rogero would tell you and that you were likely to tell me. So this reassurance means nothing. But you, with your honor, can’t even see that. “Thank you. Have you seen anything else that you believe I should be aware of?”
“I assume that you’ve been getting reports on the progress of fitting out Midway and getting her ready for battle.”
“Yes.” Iceni leaned forward a bit. “The reports say that everything is going well. In fact, if I didn’t trust Kommodor Marphissa as much as I do, I’d be inclined to think they were exaggerating the amount of progress.”
“They’re not,” Bradamont said. “The crew is working very hard, and Kapitan Mercia has come up with a number of improvements to procedures that are allowing much more rapid progress than would have been possible under the old system.”
“The Syndicate system, you mean.” Iceni remembered references to that. Mercia had conceived of the improvements years ago, but of course the Syndicate bureaucracy hadn’t been interested in changes suggested by some mobile forces executive. “The vast majority of Midway’s crew is made up of survivors from the Reserve Flotilla. What is your impression of them?”
Bradamont sketched a brief smile. “They know their business. They are also highly motivated. There is a pervasive sense among the crew that they were dishonored by the actions of Executive Ito.”
“Dishonored?” Iceni asked, making clear her mockery of the term.
“I’m sorry, Madam President, but I don’t know any other term that fits. Perhaps none of them understand what the Alliance fleet calls honor, but I feel that they understand dishonor, even if they could not place that name on it. They are determined to make up for what Ito tried to do. And they all know that you saved them. Kommodor Marphissa never hesitates to remind them that the flotilla that picked them up from Varandal, that escorted them safely here past the Syndicate, was ordered to do that by you despite the risks.” Bradamont smiled again, her eyes challenging Iceni. “They don’t want to let you down, after you have done so much for them.”
Iceni made a snort of combined disbelief and derision to cover up her internal confusion. Bradamont couldn’t be right. Workers didn’t think like that.
But suppose they could think like that if motivated by things other than fear? She had considered the idea before, but time and again it had been shoved into the background by the need to deal with emergencies and unforeseen developments.
For a long time after Bradamont had left, Iceni sat gazing into the distance, thinking about things she had been told were true, had seen were true, but that might not be true.
Morgan nodded to the man who had been designated in snake files as a potential security threat. Not a serious potential threat. Those had all been arrested or had simply disappeared before she had even reached Ulindi. The accelerated rate and number of arrests argued that Supreme CEO Haris was planning something in the near future, but every check Morgan had made revealed nothing in snake files about any impending activity.
Dark walls loomed around them, most of the light provided by the devices in Morgan’s hand which were blocking any hidden surveillance system. Two more snakes had died to provide her with the right equipment.
The man stared back at her, one eye twitching nervously. “I don’t know what you want.”