“A very large and demanding monster,” Iceni said. “But it was always there. The Syndicate just kept it suppressed. Unless we were willing to act as the Syndicate does, as the snakes do, we had to deal with that energy somehow. I am concerned about keeping it under control, though.”
“That may be very difficult,” Drakon agreed. “I’ve done some more exploration of my soldiers’ attitudes, and it confirms the suspicions I passed on to you earlier. If I gave them orders to fire on citizens, discipline might crack.”
Iceni nodded, smiling toward the crowds as if she and Drakon were engaging in small talk. Their lip movements were blurred by security fields, of course, ensuring that no one could read words off them and know what was really being said. “If your ground forces are no longer reliable, the local ground forces can’t be counted on for internal security missions at all.”
“I thought that you would be more upset by the news.”
Her smile held an edge of self-mockery. “I can be as hypocritical as anyone, but not on this issue. I’ve known since we took over that the workers and officers on our warships would refuse to participate in bombardments of citizens. They wouldn’t even cooperate in a threat to do so. Your soldiers were always our only means of enforcing control of the citizens.”
Drakon smiled, too. “We’re riding a tiger.”
“Exactly. Try not to get thrown.”
“You won’t throw me.” He made it a statement, not a question. “But the tiger might.”
“It will if we don’t keep it fed by measures like these elections. And they were clean elections,” Iceni said. “Mostly. Isn’t that a strange thing? We kept our words to the citizens.”
“Mostly,” Drakon agreed. “They’re going to want more, though.”
“We’ll feed them slowly,” Iceni said. “It will be difficult, but I like that. I’m tired of easy solutions.”
“Like ordering executions of anyone who gives us trouble?”
“Like that. I’m not a Syndicate CEO anymore.” I can almost believe that when I say it. Almost believe that I never did anything on my climb to the top that can’t be forgotten now. But I left victims behind me. We all did.
The official results were released to the media, appearing everywhere simultaneously. Cheers erupted. Iceni and Drakon waved, generating more cheers, then, after a few minutes, left the stage. “Even the ones who lost were applauding,” Iceni commented.
“If they believe the game isn’t rigged, they also believe that next time they might win,” Drakon pointed out.
“Buy-in. Yes. We need that. It’s something the Syndicate never appreciated the need for among citizens even though they obsessed about it among top-rank CEOs.” They walked to the two impressive vehicles awaiting them. “Would you ride with me?” Iceni asked.
He gave her a surprised look, then nodded. After passing orders to his own vehicle to follow, Drakon joined her in the spacious back of the Class One VIP Limo. “I’ve seen a lot of tanks that had less armor than these Class One Limos,” he said, sitting down opposite Iceni.
She smiled crookedly and rapped the virtual window next to her. It looked real, exactly as if a broad, clear view of the outside were visible through glass. In fact, it just overlay the same heavy armor as everywhere else on the vehicle. “Have you ever thought of these limos as metaphors for our lives?” Iceni asked. “Outwardly, you see one thing, something that appears transparent in many places. But, inside, things are very different than they appear.”
“Your staff and my staff didn’t appear to be thrilled at us riding alone together,” Drakon replied. “I’m pretty sure that reflected their inner feelings.”
She laughed. “They want to protect us. At least, I hope that’s their motivation. In an odd way, they control us.”
“Yeah,” Drakon agreed, leaning back against a cushion that molded itself to his back so swiftly and smoothly that it was scarcely noticeable. “They set our schedules, they can filter the information we see, they can make decisions in our names that we might not ever hear about. It worries me when I let myself think about it.”
Iceni nodded, then looked sidelong at him. “I wanted to thank you again for not even hesitating on handing Pele over to me. There’s a fair amount of damage to be fixed, but she’ll be operational before Midway is. That will go a long way toward making us secure.” She blew out an exasperated breath, then leaned toward him. “Damn you, Artur Drakon, tell me the truth. Why aren’t you worried about my controlling that amount of firepower relative to yours? Why aren’t you worried about me throwing you off the tiger?”
He searched her eyes for a moment, then leaned forward as well, so they were as close as the size of the limo allowed. “Because I know that if you wanted to kill me, Gwen, you would have succeeded in that already.”
“How sweet,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe I’m just planning on making you into a nice, controllable subordinate.”
“Hah! You know that I’ll never be anyone’s lapdog.”
“Then why do you… ?” She searched for the right word.
“Why do I trust you?” He laughed this time. “I said it. I trust you, Gwen. You’d stick a knife in me if I betrayed you, and you’d make sure it hit a vital spot. But if I play straight with you, I don’t think you’ll betray me.” Drakon shrugged. “So I guess I’m stupid.”
“No.” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “You’re a good judge of character. And I am lucky to have you as a… as a… partner.” Why did you say it? Fool! You’ve given him leverage to use against you!
Oh, shut up! I am so tired of the games and the schemes and the daggers in the night!
Drakon looked back at her with genuine surprise. “Thank you. That probably sounds like a dumb thing to say, but I don’t know what someone in my position is supposed to say when someone in your position says something like that.”
“Thank you is acceptable.” Gwen smiled, the expression vanishing as she suddenly became aware of a strong and alarming urge to lean in farther and kiss Artur Drakon. She sat back quickly, putting distance between them.
“Is something wrong?” Drakon asked.
“No. Nothing. I’m fine.” Talk about something. Anything. “I’ve been trying to decide who should command Pele. I think I’ll transfer Kontos over to her and promote him to full Kapitan.”
Drakon sat back as well, plainly disconcerted by her quick changes in attitude and topic. “Umm… that’s your call. Kontos is unquestionably loyal. He’s had a pretty meteoric rise, though. Can he handle being commanding officer of a battle cruiser?”
“Now that they’re back, I posed the question to Kommodor Marphissa, and she discussed it with Captain Bradamont. They both think he can if there is sufficient experienced depth in the other officers on the battle cruiser.”
“Who ends up with the battleship?”
“I don’t know. I’m going through the survivors from the Reserve Flotilla, trying to narrow it down. Did you ever meet Sub-CEO Freo Mercia? She was second-in-command of a battleship in the Reserve Flotilla.”
“Not that I recall. Do you know her?”
“In passing,” Iceni said. “She impressed me during that brief encounter. If the reports we have from the other survivors of her ship are accurate, she assumed command after the commander of her battleship was incapacitated and did an excellent job of fighting the ship until it was hopeless, then getting as many of her surviving crew off as possible.”
“Incapacitated?” Drakon asked.