“Or it was an attempt to wear us down before a bigger force hits us,” Drakon said, wondering himself if he was arguing plausible threats or simply trying to dissuade Iceni from considering Malin’s idea.
“Perhaps,” Iceni commented. “Captain Bradamont, as the closest thing to a neutral observer available to us, what do you think of the way the Syndicate tried to take out Pele and Gryphon?”
Bradamont made a face. “The crew of the heavy cruiser that surrendered said the light cruisers were not crewed at all, operating on automated targeting and attack routines. The transmissions coming from them were animated on the fly by routines designed to react as well as they could to whatever was happening. That could mean that after all of their losses the Syndicate Worlds is so short on trained crew members that they couldn’t afford to lose even skeleton crews on a suicide mission. Or it could mean that they didn’t trust a human crew to carry out the planned attack.”
“What did they tell us about other Syndicate forces in this region?”
“They didn’t know of any,” Bradamont said. “But, since the senior officers on the heavy cruiser died, and one of the snakes aboard managed to fry most of the classified data before he was killed, that might just mean the few junior officers who survived the battle and the mutiny were not given that information.”
“Junior officers are rarely told about the big picture,” Gozen said.
“What do you think of Colonel Malin’s suggested plan?” Iceni asked.
Bradamont cast a wary glance at Drakon but spoke without hesitation. “I believe it is a promising concept, and perhaps the best option available if the problem of how to capture the enigma base can be addressed.”
Iceni looked at Drakon. “You’re unhappy with the idea, though. Do you consider it too risky?”
Drakon took a long moment to answer as he considered possible replies. But the real reason for his objection, one he had only fully realized when everyone else was talking, was one he did not wish to discuss in front of others. “I would like to speak to you about my reasons in private. Just the two of us.”
“Certainly.” Iceni waved the others present toward the door. “Wait for us outside and see that we are not disturbed unless there is an emergency.”
Bradamont, Malin, and Gozen left, closing the door behind them. There wasn’t anything unusual about two high-ranking individuals holding a private conference. Iceni waited until the security lights above the door glowed green to indicate a secure environment before she turned an inquiring look on Drakon. “All right. We’re alone. What are your reasons?”
Drakon found it unexpectedly hard to speak. “I don’t like the plan.”
“Artur,” Iceni said with a sigh, “I can’t work with that. I need reasons.”
“My reasons are difficult to explain,” Drakon said, frowning at the surface of the desk in front of him.
She sounded frustrated. “Do you dislike the strategy? Do you think there’s another, better approach?”
“I don’t—” Drakon set his mouth in an angry line. “I admit that the strategy has potential. But I do not like it.”
“You’ve made that clear. But we have to evaluate this idea on its merits,” Iceni insisted. “Impartially and purely in terms of its likelihood to succeed.”
Drakon met her eyes, struggled with himself, and with every bit of don’t expose yourself, don’t trust anyone, don’t admit to any potential vulnerability or weakness that he had been taught by the Syndicate, then finally said it. “I can’t do that.”
She eyed him in return, puzzled. “You can’t do what?”
“Evaluate it impartially. This plan involves a serious threat to you.”
“And I’m your most important ally,” Iceni said patiently. “I understand that you would face some difficulties maintaining order at Midway if I was killed, but—”
“Dammit, Gwen, I’m not talking about you as an ally! I… don’t want to see you hurt! I don’t want to face a universe without you.”
She seemed perplexed, then revealed growing astonishment. “Artur Drakon, was that your idea of an avowal of affection?”
He looked away, not sure what to say. “Call it what you want. I thought you might also… Sometimes it seemed that you… that you wouldn’t mind if I… felt like that. But you don’t seem to be happy about it.”
“I’m… surprised. I thought your tastes in women ran a lot more exotic than a beat-up run-of-the-mill type like me.”
Drakon stared at her, trying to figure out if Iceni was joking. “No. And that’s not how I see you.”
“Really?” She leaned her head on one fist, watching him. “Something must be wrong with your vision, and since I know you’re physically all right, the problem must be mental or emotional or both. Just what is influencing how you see me, Artur Drakon?”
He struggled for words again. “I… care about what happens to you.”
“You already said that. Now, you are blocking a perfectly viable plan for dealing with serious threats to this star system. I think I deserve to know exactly why you don’t want to consider that plan.”
She sounded absolutely serious. Had all the times he thought she might have been interested in him just been misinterpretations on his part? One CEO could never trust another CEO. That was a basic rule of the Syndicate, a rule both he and Gwen had seen proven by the treachery and double-crossing actions of other CEOs while they were still part of the Syndicate, a rule that had kept them at arm’s length from each other for some time. But he had come to trust Gwen, to more than trust her, and he had thought she might feel the same way. He wasn’t going to back down without finding out for certain. Drakon steeled himself and said the words. “It’s because… I… want to form a permanent joint venture with you, Gwen.”
Iceni’s eyes widened. “You do?”
“I’m… pretty sure I do.” He couldn’t tell how she took that. “I just… it’s…”
She held up a restraining hand. “You know, Artur, if I didn’t like you, I’d keep forcing you to try to be articulate when discussing your feelings regarding… my value as a partner. But I’m going to have mercy on you.”
“Meaning what?” He was feeling cross now, upset by his inability to speak clearly. He had led forces in combat, calling out orders without hesitation as enemy forces rained death all around, but now he found his tongue tied and words sticking in his throat.
She smiled. A genuine, affectionate smile. “You big oaf. I’ve been trying to avoid feeling the same way about you. Unsuccessfully trying. You are an exceptional man, with enormous potential as a partner, as well as being exasperating and difficult at times. But I know I am also exasperating and difficult at times. Let’s have dinner tonight, just you and me, no one else, no recordings of anything by anyone, and talk about not just threats and strategies and problems, but about each other and what we expect from the deal. If we’re going to make this cooperation between us into a long-term, binding deal, we need to have a chance to discuss it.”
He could not help smiling back at her. “Like any other business deal, huh?”
“Oh, hell, no. A very special business deal. We’ll have dinner at my headquarters and see how it goes. All right? And even if it all goes well, that plan may still have to be on the table, Artur, unless we can come up with a good alternative. I had to see you off to Ulindi. You may have to see me off to Iwa.” She stood up, then took two quick steps and kissed him quickly before stepping back again. “Don’t disappoint me. Please don’t disappoint me.”
Drakon stood as well, still smiling and still feeling the touch of her lips on his. “I don’t let anyone down, Gwen.”