"If you're right," Ronda challenged, "then why are so many questions still not answered?"
"Because the government doesn't want folks to know how widespread Nature First really is. It would cause a. panic."
Jude gave him a little nudge. "They'll go on about this for hours. I want to stretch my legs. Care to tour the ship?"
The assassin nodded. "My pleasure."
"That can be arranged." Jude took his hand in hers and turned to her friends. "We'll see you later, muchlater."
27
Tharkad, Donegal March
Federated Commonwealth
17 July 3055
Victor's steady hand and practiced manipulation of the holovid remote control slowed the image to near immobility. The picture of his mother remained clear, as if, cell by cell, it had been etched on the inside of the holovid viewer screen. With every little movement or shift in her facial expression, a horde of memories surged up into his thoughts. You are too young to have died, Mother.
Victor cringed as she raised her right hand to emphasize a point. Like a signal to someone outside the picture, her gesture seemed to call forth an intense brightening of the light in front of her. It burned away all the shadows and fatigue lines, the next moment burning away her whole image, leaving the screen filled with only fire and destruction.
Hearing a sharp rap on his door, Victor hit the Pause button. "Enter," he said impatiently.
Galen Cox opened the door, then closed it behind him with a military crispness that Victor had not seen in the man since their first meeting. He snapped his hand up in a salute and held it until Victor returned the gesture. "You sent for me, sir?" Galen remained standing at attention like a cadet braced for a dressing-down.
The Prince nodded and swiveled away from the screen and toward the spread of folders on his desk. He picked up a single sheet of paper. "What is this supposed to be, Galen?"
"It's a Form 342881-A, Request for a Transfer of Duty, sir."
"Enough of that, Galen." Victor wadded the request and tossed it into a wastebasket. "Request denied."
"In that case, sir, I will resign my commission immediately. "
Victor's head came up, realizing from Galen's tone that this was not some joke. "What's going on here, Galen? You're my friend. I need you."
The blue-eyed MechWarrior looked down at his commander. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"As always, Galen."
"No, sir, not as of late." Galen's stiff posture shifted and his hands settled on his hips. Victor knew his friend was preparing to blast him, and though he wanted to forestall it, something made him hold his tongue.
"Highness, with all due respect, you don't need me at all. You're not listening to my advice, nor that of anyone else. You're not doing your job and you're headed for disaster. I like you too much to want to hang around and see that."
Victor felt the sting of Galen's words and knew his criticisms echoed doubts stuffed away somewhere in his own mind. "What are you talking about?"
"Highness, in the years we've known each other I've seen two things in your personality that identify you as accurately as any retinal pattern. The first is that you're incredibly judgmental. You look at a person and think you've got him or her pegged after hearing a few sentences out of the person's mouth. And ninety-nine times out of a hundred you're dead right. That sometimes makes you a bear, and coupled with your willingness to speak your mind, it also makes you a diplomatic nightmare."
"I have to judge people. I need to know who is using me and who isn't."
"I know that better than you, Highness, but the problem is that you're not perfect. That one time out of a hundred when you botch it up is when you hurt people. Worse yet, you can overlook treachery that's well-hidden."
The Prince's head came up. "Name me one case. . . ."
"I can't, dammit, but that's not the point."
"What is, then?"
"The point is that you are more than capable of developing blind spots." Galen jabbed a finger in Victor's direction. "And coupled with the second trait, it's getting you into trouble right now."
Victor fought to keep his temper under control. "And that second trait is?"
Galen laughed lightly. "Polite folks say you're driven, others say you're overcompensating for the fact that you're not tall. I'd probably say you're goal-oriented, but it all boils down to the same thing—you have an unequaled capacity for obsessiveness."
Victor waved Galen's assertion off angrily. "I don't have to listen to this."
"Yes you do, dammit. You owe it to me because I've bloody well saved your life. I got your butt off Trellwan and I was ready to die with you on Alyina. You owe listening to me to all the men and women who died so you could live. If you don't listen, if you don't change, you're going to be a laughingstock and history will say those who sacrificed were a bunch of clowns."
Galen wouldn't let Victor interrupt. "You're obsessing on the damned murder of your mother."
"You would too, if—"
"No, I wouldn't." Galen shook his head slowly. "My parents died in the War of 3039. Dracs killed them. Call it collateral damage, whatever, it doesn't matter. They died at the hands of Kurita soldiers. My desire for revenge sent me off to the military, but I grew up.I realized that my parents had their counterparts in Combine civilians who also died when we hit their planets. Fate hadn't singled me out for the destiny of leading a crusade to destroy the Draconis Combine.
"Looking at reality in the cold clarity of mature thought, I realized my job was to protect the people of the Federated Commonwealth. I'm not here to avenge my parents, but to make sure no one else loses theirs. Since I met you I've gained a greater perspective and I realize the well-being of the Federated Commonwealth affects billions and billions of lives. If my role of protector means I have to tell you that your head is so far up your ass that you could bite off your own tonsils, I will." He glanced down. "Until last month I could have, but I haven't needed to until now and it is!"
The Prince had started to build up a head of steam, but Galen's one-two punch knocked it back out of him. I never knew his parents were dead. . . . Why didn't I? He is a friend, a close friend. Why didn't he ever tell me?Victor realized in an instant that he had always treated Galen like a faithful retainer, not a real human being. Galen Cox had become for him what Ardan Sortek had been to his father—an aide and a bellwether. It dawned on him that Galen was Horatio to his Hamlet, and that comparison sank a dagger into Victor's heart.
Am I obsessing?The moment he asked the question, he knew the answer. He also felt compelled to defend his action. "I'm just trying to find out who killed my mother."
"That is nonsense and you know it, sir." Galen walked over to the screen and rapped it with his knuckles. "You've been torturing yourself because you imagine that you could somehow have saved her. You're thinking, dreaming,that if you'd been there you could have prevented her death. You would have spotted the bomb. You would have prevented the blast from killing her.