No, Jonah realized. Not even seventeen Paladins. A quick scan told him Heather GioAvanti was not there.
He spotted David McKinnon’s tall, gray-haired figure, down where the Paladins’ desks were arranged in their open-horseshoe configuration in front of the Exarch’s podium. Jonah decided McKinnon would be as good a place to start as any. The man might be a bit of a political fossil, but at least he was an honest one. After spending too much time recently in the company of men like Geoffrey Mallowes, McKinnon’s straightforwardness would be refreshing.
“Good morning, David.”
“Paladin Levin.” McKinnon was one who stood on ceremony, particularly at a time like this. “It’s an extraordinary morning.”
“Perhaps it will be.”
“Seventeen people are meeting to decide the fate of two hundred fifty planets. It cannot help but be extraordinary.”
“I suppose that’s true. Do you have word on Heather’s whereabouts?”
“No. I was hoping you would know.” McKinnon’s glance turned slightly sideways. “I understand the two of you have been quite busy.”
If it were anyone else, Jonah might think McKinnon was attempting a subtle innuendo. But it was McKinnon—the question was about nothing more than their investigation.
“We have been. Though I imagine the whole council has been.”
“True enough. But word of your activities has traveled, though the reports I hear are conflicting. Would you care to clarify anything about your work?”
“I would.” Jonah saw McKinnon lean forward almost unwillingly, eager for a piece of information most Paladins didn’t have. “I’ll be informing everyone of my progress before we vote.”
McKinnon concealed his disappointment well. “I look forward to your report. Excuse me, please.”
It was a simple game, Jonah thought. I’ve got nothing for him, so he moves on to the next player.
Jonah wondered who he should speak with next, then realized that most of them would ask the same question as McKinnon—everyone except Sinclair. He walked over to the junior Paladin’s seat, where Sinclair chatted idly with Janella Lakewood.
“Good morning, Gareth.”
“Hi, Jonah. Seems like I haven’t seen you in nearly six hours.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
“No. But the way things look here, I’ll probably be able to grab a few winks during our deliberations.”
It was an immense relief to talk to Sinclair without the pall of suspicion hanging over his head. His youth and cheerfulness would be a welcome addition to a council that often threatened to become overly grim.
Jonah glanced down at Sinclair’s desk. “Your screen’s not on.”
“Do you think I’ll need it?”
“Definitely.” He tapped the screen. “That’s where the real horse-trading happens.”
“Horse-trading doesn’t strike me as one of your interests.”
“It isn’t,” Jonah admitted. “But that doesn’t keep the rest of them from approaching me.”
Sinclair and Lakewood both palmed the panels near their screens, powering them up and logging them on simultaneously. Meanwhile, the surrounding conversations slowly grew louder. Some of them simply seemed to be getting excited about the election, but other tones were turning heated. Eventually, the strong, bell-like tones of Tyrina Drummond rose above the rest.
“We cannot cast a final ballot without her,” Drummond said. “There is no reason we cannot begin preliminary discussions and ballots. This is the time. I see no reason to delay.”
She stood directly in front of the Exarch’s chair, which Jonah had always found unnecessarily thronelike. The chair was concealed by a large, blank screen. Soon that screen would display the future of The Republic.
“How do we tell which ballots are preliminary and which are final?” asked Janella Lakewood.
Drummond cast her the iron stare that only Clan-born warriors could give. “We announce it. Before each ballot, we announce if it is preliminary or final. Naturally, all ballots before Paladin GioAvanti arrives will be preliminary.”
“Are we locked into voting for the same person each time? How do we change?” Lakewood asked.
If anything, Drummond’s glare became more withering. “You vote for whom you wish each ballot. If you wish to change your vote, change your vote. You may alter it as often as you choose.”
“I’m not sure I understand the purpose of the preliminary ballots, then.”
Anders Kessel, presenting himself with every inch of his noble bearing, stepped forward to answer. “Consider it a time for us all to get acquainted,” he said kindly. “We’ll get to know each other better, learn a little bit more about whom our companions believe is fit to be Exarch. That knowledge will help us move toward the final ballot.”
That was certainly Kessel’s plan, Jonah thought. He knew Kessel wanted as many preliminary ballots as possible. The more time he had, and the better he could gauge the opinions of the other Paladins, the better chance he had to bring others into an alliance to push the candidate of his choice into the position of Exarch. In this election, Jonah was fairly sure that Kessel’s candidate of choice was Kelson Sorenson.
“Is either of you making a motion?” Thaddeus Marik said.
“Yes,” Drummond said. “I move that we commence deliberation and preliminary balloting.”
“We cannot hold deliberations without the entire council!” Mandela insisted.
“Then I move we commence discussion and preliminary balloting,” Drummond said, unruffled—at least for the moment.
“Seconded,” Kessel said.
It was time. “Before we vote on the motion,” Jonah said, “I’d like to clear something up.”
Fifteen heads turned toward him. Jonah’s collected utterances in council meetings could fill a book approximately five pages long. Today, he’d probably double that by the first ballot.
“Yes?” Kessel asked.
“I just want to be sure we have time for statements before balloting.” Another murmur ran through the council. Not only was Jonah speaking now, he seemed to want to say more. By now, every Paladin knew what Jonah had been doing recently, and they all had guesses about what he planned to say. The anticipation in the room ratcheted up a notch.
“Of course,” Kessel said. “Now, unless there are any other clarifications or questions? Good. Votes in favor?” The room filled with ayes. “Opposed?” Silence.
Sixteen Paladins walked to their chairs and sat down in almost perfect unison.
“Then let’s begin,” Kessel said.
55
Warehouse District, Geneva
Terra, Prefecture X
20 December 3134
“Isee people in motion up ahead,” Santangelo reported to Heather GioAvanti over the command link. “They could be armed.”
“Or they could be civilians,” Heather replied. “Remember—the rules of engagement are property damage only, do not fire even if fired upon.”
“Roger, understand no return fire,” Santangelo said. “Can’t say that I like it, though.”
“We’re trying to prevent an insurrection here, not make one,” Heather told him. “Do we have enough demolition charges for all of the targets?”
“We’ll manage.”
“Right. Looks like thirty seconds to contact.”
The third warehouse of the morning—Koss’ revised list of possibilities had a total of ten—was coming up; a turn to the right then a straight run up to the front doors. The streets were narrower in this part of town, and the heavy feet of Heather’s ’Mech weren’t doing the pavement any good. More property damage—but she was sure the new Exarch, whoever he or she turned out to be, would make restitution after the election.