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“To be perfectly honest,” Drakon said, “though when the hell are people like you and me perfectly honest? But the truth is I don’t really remember it. I was seriously drunk.”

“You slept with Colonel Morgan and you don’t remember any of it?” For the first time during this conversation, Iceni seemed genuinely amused. “Maybe there is some form of cosmic justice.”

Drakon felt some irritation at that. “I hope you realize by now that it never would have happened if I hadn’t been that drunk.”

“Is that an excuse?” Iceni asked.

“No. I don’t have any excuse. It was a terrible personal and professional failure on my part.”

Something, either the words or the way he said them, finally made Iceni show some limited signs of relenting. “All right. We will talk more about her, about what to do about her, if she gets back. I already told you I was going to send Kommodor Marphissa to command the warships. I’m going to give her two heavy cruisers, two light cruisers, and four Hunter-Killers. That will leave a decent though still-inadequate force to defend this star system, and should offer you a very comfortable margin of superiority over Haris’s mobile forces, as well as a small but adequate bombardment capability to support your landing.”

Drakon nodded. “I won’t deny that I’d love to have the battle cruiser as well.”

“Oh? Are you regretting that gift to me already?”

It took him a moment to realize that Iceni was teasing him. She must be feeling better. “No. You know how to use it a lot better than I do, and I know that Midway needs to be protected while the other warships are gone. Then we’re agreed? We’re going to get the ball rolling?”

Iceni once more took a few seconds to answer, gazing at the star display, unreadable thoughts moving behind her eyes. “Do you remember when this started? When the primary thing worrying you and me at this point would be the fear that when one of us was out of the star system the other would stab them in the back?”

“That’s not what’s worrying you?” he asked.

She paused again, for a long time, then spoke in a rush. “No. What’s worrying me is not having you here.”

Drakon gave her a puzzled frown. “You’re worried about what I’ll do while I’m not here?”

“No! I— Forget it! Forget I said anything until we resolve the issue of that colonel. Yes. Let’s get the ball rolling. The sooner we get rid of Supreme CEO Haris, the better.”

Togo, as deferential and discreet as ever, waited for her to take notice of him.

Iceni closed out the document she was reviewing and looked at him. “Is there a problem?”

“I was asked to ensure that you were aware of the costs involved in the freighter modifications requested by the ground forces,” Togo said.

“I have seen the estimates and approved them. This is an assault operation. The ground forces have to bring a lot of shuttles along and have the means to quickly load the soldiers from the freighters into the shuttles.”

“I understand, Madam President, but the finance directorate—”

“Why am I explaining and justifying my decisions to you or to the finance directorate?” Iceni snapped. She didn’t have to feign being unhappy to give more force to her words. “I’m aware of our current financial situation. The finance directorate should be aware that a defense support payment from Taroa is scheduled to arrive this month.”

“The cost of the mobile forces continues to escalate—” Togo began.

“If you know a way to keep the Syndicate from reconquering this star system without us maintaining a strong force of warships, I would be very pleased to hear it.” Iceni rested her chin on one fist as she glared at Togo. “Mehmet, you have been a valuable assistant. A very valuable assistant, who as far as I can tell has been happy in his job. But I have a growing sense that you are unhappy with your current situation.”

Even Togo couldn’t hear that question from her without revealing some surprise and worry. Questions from CEOs about whether you were happy with your current situation were, in the Syndicate, often precursors to suggestions that your resignation would be a smart move, suggestions that were in fact orders. “Madam President, I have no complaints. I have been honored to serve you and wish to continue doing so.”

“And I wish that you would continue to serve as my special assistant,” Iceni said. “But I must be confident that you are committed to that job.”

“I could not be more strongly committed,” Togo said.

Iceni didn’t bother checking the readouts on her desk that would tell her whether or not Togo was lying. She knew that he could defeat the sensors designed to detect such things. Such talents, among others, made him extremely valuable, but they also made him a source for worry. “I am pleased to hear that,” she said. “Have you been able to identify any previously undetected snake agents, or sources for the rumors that continue to keep the citizens on edge?”

“No, Madam President. I will find them.”

Iceni paused, frowning, then looked at Togo again. “Could you take Colonel Morgan if you were ordered to dispose of her? I don’t want boasting or overconfidence. I want the most accurate estimate you can give me.”

It was hard to tell which emotion Togo was suppressing this time. A smile? Maybe.

“Madam President,” Togo said, pronouncing each word with slow precision, “if I am allowed to choose the time, place, and circumstances, there would be no doubt of the outcome. If any variables are introduced, they would reduce my chances, but I cannot conceive of any scenario in which my odds of success would not be at least two to one. You need only give me the order—”

“I am not giving you such an order. Is that clear? I am considering contingencies.” Iceni leaned forward, arms on her desk, emphasizing each word. “What I need most at this moment is to know who is trying to stir up the citizens. I want names, and I want to know who they are working for. Get that for me, and get it as soon as possible.”

Togo nodded, not revealing his feelings about the assignment. “It will be done, Madam President.”

“What about that mob operation diverting manufacturing output to the black market? Are we ready to shut that down?”

“Whenever you give the order, Madam President. However,” Togo added in his most diplomatic tone of voice, “recent changes to the legal system will complicate inflicting the appropriate punishments for all guilty parties.”

Iceni felt her lips twist into a darkly amused smile as she gazed back at Togo. “I have developed an interest in wanting only those parties actually guilty of something to be punished.”

“They are all certainly guilty of something,” Togo argued.

“Then there should not be too much difficulty in ensuring they are found guilty and punished,” Iceni said. “The changes to our legal system are, so far, fairly minor compared to those that have existed elsewhere and currently exist in the Alliance. Have you ever wondered why the Syndicate suffers from such high levels of corruption and crime when it assigns such strong penalties and guarantees convictions of anyone even suspected of wrongdoing?”

“People are inherently corrupt,” Togo said, both face and voice impassive.

“Are they? I used to be as certain as you are. Now I want to know more.” She leaned forward again, eyes on Togo. “Because if that’s wrong, then any actions based on an erroneous assessment are likely to be wrong as well, or at least far less efficient than they should be. I don’t want anyone making the mistake of assuming that I am going soft. My goal is to make certain that the right people are caught, and that the right people are punished in ways that reinforce my authority. In the past, my enemies could be fairly confident that they knew what I would do and how I would do it. Now they cannot be confident of what I will do or what methods I will employ.”