“Oh?” Kane was studiously looking at the wall fittings. “And why is that?”
“Am I the only one who remembers that the Leviathan is coming this way? Your Yagizban friends had better get everything that can fly and swim out there right now if they’re going to stand any chance against that… that monstrosity.”
“That’s an interesting… Have you finished yet? I dislike talking to walls.”
Katya locked off her belt and sat on the bed to pull on the boots. “Yes, you can turn around now.”
Kane turned back to face her. “Where was I? Oh, yes. It’s interesting that you seem to be alone in thinking the Conclaves should be scrambling to the defence.”
“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”
“Because the Leviathan that sank your minisub, holed the Novgorod and killed so many good people at the mine is gone. Tokarov has been…” Kane suddenly seemed overcome with emotion. He touched his brow and lowered his head and he distinctly paled. “That poor man. He had no idea what it was going to be like, that particular Siege Perilous. Poor holy fool.”
Katya didn’t recognise the allusion and it angered her, although she wasn’t sure why. A suspicion was forming and she didn’t like the way it was going. “What do you mean? Talk straight for just once in your life, Kane! I’m tired of your stupid games. People are dying! You say we’re just the same. I don’t think so!”
Kane looked at her seriously. “I’m sorry, Katya. Sometimes, sometimes I think I’ve grown old before my time, watching things collapse and not being able to do anything about it. Or doing the wrong thing. It’s been that way for so long, I’m beginning to think it’s my role in the universe, to make sure things go wrong.”
Katya’s voice was cold. “I don’t have time for your self-pity either.”
“No. No, of course not. On Earth, there’s a very old story about an order of warriors. They used to meet at a round table, so nobody could have the honour of sitting at the head of it. They would all be equal. But there was one place that was never taken. It was called the Siege Perilous and it was cursed. Only the most perfect knight in the land could sit there without dying instantly. Nobody ever sat there until one day, a knight turned up who was… unworldly. He knew nothing about the wickedness of life. Good, noble, and so unsullied by the sins of the world that he actually seemed a bit stupid. He sat in the Siege Perilous and was not destroyed. He was the perfect knight, utterly pure. The holy fool.”
“What has this got to do with Tokarov?” asked Katya.
“I’m sure you already know. Tokarov wasn’t forced into the interface throne aboard the Leviathan. He didn’t have a sudden nervous breakdown. He made a cool, rational decision to sit there. I had no idea he would. I never dreamt he would.” He smiled bleakly. “Perhaps I’m not as good at reading people as I thought.”
“Out of nobility,” said Katya. Kane nodded. “Out of loyalty?” Another nod. “Kane, Tokarov is… was… from the Yagizba Conclaves, wasn’t he?”
Kane nodded again. “The Yagizban’s aren’t running around in a panic because they know the Leviathan isn’t coming here to attack. It’s coming home. Tokarov’s coming home.”
CHAPTER 15
Little Gun
A fait accompli, Kane helpfully told her after dropping it into one of his next comments, meant that the matter was settled before it had even really come to one side’s attention. In this case, by the time the FMA even found out that the Yagizba Conclaves had decided that they could do a better job running the planet than the Federals, the Yagizbans would already control Russalka’s storm-riven skies with their transport and strike aircraft and the seas would belong to the fleet of Vodyanoi-class warboats and, of course, the Leviathan.
Katya hugged herself against a chill that existed only in her mind. “Were there ever any pirates? Or was it just you?”
Kane smiled. “Nobody else has ever worked that out. No, we weren’t the only ones, but there were never more than five pirate vessels operating at any time. The transports could take us anywhere, drop us off and, as far as the Federals knew, it was another boat operating. You’ve seen the news reports. They thought there were as many as sixty pirate vessels out there and all the time it was just us, we few, keeping busy. If they’d stopped to think about it logically, they might have realised that there simply wasn’t enough trade to support that many pirates. They never did. You know, maybe they really don’t deserve to govern.”
“That’s why the Vodyanoi was so keen to bust you out. They couldn’t afford you talking under interrogation.”
“No, that would have been very bad for the Conclaves. I’m fairly feisty… I think I would have held out for a while. The Deeps, though, they have a bad, a fearsome bad reputation. Sooner or later, they’d have threatened to break a particularly favourite bone or dislocate some joint that I would rather stay correctly located and I’d have talked. It’s more or less impossible to break anybody out of the Deeps, so they always intended to rescue me before reaching the facility. Your little submarine was earmarked for interception as soon as that appalling little man Suhkarov commandeered it in his usual charmless fashion.”
“Or they might just have sunk us to stop you talking.”
“Yes,” replied Kane philosophically. “They might have sunk us. I like Tasya and, in her own faintly psychotic way, I think she likes me. She’d have fired without hesitation if she thought it was the only way, though.”
“Perhaps you can tell her, tell them, the Yagizbans, that there’s no need to hurt the Novgorod’s crew. You’ve already won the war. We can’t fight the Leviathan. Enough people have already died.”
“I know. I think they do too. That’s why Petrov and the rest are being held rather than being unceremoniously shot and dumped overboard. No point in starting the new world order with an unnecessary massacre.” He was speaking blithely, but Katya caught a note of bitterness there too.
“You’re on the winning side, Kane,” she said, “but you don’t sound very happy about it.”
Kane got up and paced the floor. “I’m happy that the FMA is finally going to be dissolved. It’s been a blight on the Russalkin ever since it was founded. It’s just a glorified customs and excise service, you know. How it was ever allowed to sprawl into so many other duties and roles I can’t imagine. Administrative creep, I suppose. Government by bureaucracy rarely bodes well.”
“It did the job.”
“It did it very badly. If it’s all you’ve ever seen, it’s hard to imagine other forms of government but they exist, I assure you. The Yagizban intend to run the planet as a meritocratic technocracy.”
Katya snorted derisively. “And what’s that?”
Kane stopped pacing and looked at her. “It means if you’re a good scientist, you get ahead. You have a good mind, Katya. You should do well.”
She ignored the compliment, if that was what it was meant to be. “And that’s it? No say in how things go? What if we don’t want a meritocratic technocracy? What then?”
“Not really your decision. It isn’t a democracy.”
“A what?”
“Never mind.” Kane checked his wristwatch. “Come on. I was supposed to collect you, not divulge all the Yagizbans’ nefarious schemes. Don’t let on that you already know. Let them have their moment of glory; it’s rude to spoil a gloat.”