“Governor Ortega, what can you tell us about your son’s involvement with the traitor Manfred Leclerc?” shouted a reporter Austin had seen briefly on an early Ministry of Information newscast.
Austin stepped to one side, shocked at the ferocity of the questioning. Somehow, through the crush of reporters representing most news purveyors on Mirach, he saw the only one who counted. Lady Elora stood toward the rear of the Armorer’s Chamber speaking quietly with her director. The harried rat-faced man held a small control panel rather than using a full-scale one. From the amount of sweat on his wrinkled forehead, Barnaby obviously had trouble performing the intricate maneuvers with the cameras that Elora demanded.
For a brief instant, Elora’s emerald eyes locked with Austin’s. He thought a flicker of a smile danced over her thin lips, and then her amplified voice boomed over the din of other questions. There was no doubt about how she used her position as Minister to best the others technologically.
“Governor Ortega, is it true that your son evaded arrest last night after consorting with a known traitor?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please,” cried Sergio. “This is my office. I will answer your questions in the conference room. Not here.”
Austin looked for guards to move the crowd from the outer office, but none were in sight. He maneuvered his way around the group of reporters and gave the secretary instructions. The man corralled five others from the Governor’s office staff and began to herd the reporters out and down the hall. They went more willingly after Elora made a point of leading the parade. Austin found his way back to Sergio as the crowd dispersed.
“You need the FCL guarding you,” he said. He thought his father started to say something, then stopped. A mask of calm settled, the mask he always wore when dealing with difficult situations. Austin envied him in that moment. He couldn’t find composure when his best friend was running from the authorities and he had no idea who had murdered his brother.
Worse than such turmoil was his father refusing to trust him.
“Thank you,” Sergio said, eyes forward. Austin wasn’t sure if the Governor thanked the secretary and the others or him. He didn’t ask as he followed at the proper two steps behind as they went to the conference room. The Governor’s protocol officer ought to have prepared for this, but Austin hadn’t seen him in days. More to the point, as Minister, Lady Elora should have helped control the news flow instead of being in the forefront of blowing up the dam.
The tumult hit Austin the instant he stepped onto the dais with his father. A hundred questions from a hundred mouths all vied for supremacy, but one came through loud and clear.
“Why was the Baronet consorting with a known felon?” Elora might have asked the question, but she didn’t. She didn’t have to because this was the single query they all wanted answered.
“My son Austin was attempting to get Captain Leclerc to surrender to authorities when this incident occurred,” Sergio said. “He had almost convinced Leclerc of the folly of remaining a fugitive, when heavy-handed officers of the Legate’s military police interrupted. Leclerc was scared off by their unnecessarily violent entrance into the tavern.”
“Isn’t it true that your son fled with the traitor Leclerc?”
“You play fast and loose with our legal system by such unproved accusations. Manfred Leclerc deserves his day in court. When he is arrested, his guilt or innocence will be determined.”
“Then you don’t deny that your son consorts with traitors and killers?”
“Next question, please,” Sergio said. Austin wanted to say something to defend himself but saw his father’s clenched fists and how he struggled to remain calm.
“One last question, Governor Ortega,” Elora boomed, drowning out the other reporters. “How do you respond to the recent off-world communiqué from both Prefect Radick and Lord Governor Sandoval expressing ‘no confidence’ in your ability to perform your duty as head of Mirach’s government?”
The room fell silent. Then the other reporters babbled their own questions.
“Why haven’t you told us of this message from the leaders of The Republic, Governor?” asked one. “What are you hiding?” asked another. “What else aren’t you telling us?” The noise rose to a deafening pitch. Even if Sergio had answered, no one could have heard him.
Austin fought to protect his father as the reporters surged forward with their shouted questions. Elora was Minister of Information and had flatly stated that not only had the Governor lost the confidence of the two most powerful leaders in the Prefecture, but he had also committed what was quickly becoming the ultimate crime: not revealing communications from other worlds immediately. The fall of the HPG built new conspiracies at every turn.
Austin had almost forced back the reporters when he heard Elora’s final cut.
“Since the leaders of Prefecture IV have lost confidence in your ability to lead, Governor Ortega, when will a replacement be named?”
Austin felt as if he had been hit in the belly with a sledgehammer. Elora’s scheme was transparent. There wasn’t a replacement because the Lord Governor had not lost confidence in Sergio Ortega. But Elora could make a strong case for Legate Tortorelli leading a military coup until a civilian replacement arrived.
Which it never would.
She would disgrace the Governor and then put her toady in Sergio’s place. Retaining the powerful position as head of the Ministry of Information, Elora would control Mirach completely from the shadows. Tortorelli would retain his post as Legate, giving him military and de facto civilian authority.
All the reins of power ran to her grasping fingers.
“Father, this way,” Austin said. Sergio let his son guide him from the conference room into the hall. To Austin’s surprise, Dmitri Borodin and four other soldiers he did not recognize hurried toward them. All five were dressed in the forest green Home Guard uniforms.
“Nobody’s allowed out, Austin,” Borodin said, putting up his hand to stop Austin from leaving.
“It’s a mob scene in there,” Austin said. “Help the Baron back to his office—”
Borodin looked grief-stricken as he stepped away from the other four. In a low voice he said, “We’re here to make sure Governor Ortega doesn’t try to go anywhere but his office. Those were Legate Tortorelli’s orders, straight from his own lips before we came here from the barracks.”
“That’s an outrage!” Austin cried.
“Don’t argue,” Sergio said. “It’s not worth it, son.” He went directly back to his office trailed by two guards, leaving Austin behind with Borodin and the other soldiers.
Austin seethed at such injustice. His father was a Baron, Governor of Mirach, and was being treated like a prisoner. Then he settled down and realized that Borodin was a good soldier and followed orders, even if they ran counter to his own loyalties.
“Thanks for what you’ve done so far,” Austin said. “Can I count on you later?”
“You can count on me, sir, but the patrol with me,” Borodin said uneasily, “they’re all loyal to Lord Governor Sandoval—if he declares for the Federated Suns. Every time a DropShip lands, there’s stories. They’re sayin’ Sandoval’s trying to take back FedSuns worlds, and there’re some who’d just as soon have it that way.” This was a shock to Austin, too concerned with the local situation to even consider what might be going on in the rest of the Prefecture, especially with the HPG net down. The FedSuns was one of the older states from which Devlin Stone had taken worlds to build The Republic. If the rumors were true—and Austin had no way to be sure that they were—then Mirach was in more trouble than he’d realized. And where did the Envoy from Sandoval, Parsons, stand? “They don’t exactly trust me, knowing I prefer The Republic, but it’s gettin’ hard, Lieutenant, it’s getting real hard, to keep thinkin’ The Republic’s the right way to go.”