The chirping of his personal comm unit interrupted those pleasant thoughts. “This is Lieutenant North,” he answered, stifling a yawn.
“Mr. North, this is the XO,” said Peter Chatburn over the link. “Are you finished there?”
“Yes, sir. The local police forces say they can handle matters from here. What do you need?”
“We’re recalling the shore party. There’s something unusual going on up in Tanjeer, and major riots have broken out all over the city. We may need Ms. Larkin’s force to evacuate more private citizens from the city’s offworld district. Is the shuttle flyable?”
“Petty Officer Long says so, sir. He pulled a couple of damaged boards and it checks out for nontactical maneuvering.”
“Very well, then. Get back up here quick, Mr. North. There’s a lot going on.”
Sikander glanced around. Angela Larkin stood with her hand to her ear, evidently receiving the same recall notice from Hector’s comm techs. A short distance off, Captain Zakur was busy with his own comm device, speaking rapidly in Jadeed-Arabi. If he’d received the news about riots in the capital, he would be heading back to rejoin Ranya’s protective detail … and that suggested a different course of action than returning to Hector. Whatever was going on, Ranya el-Nasir was likely to be in the middle of it.
Sikander believed in listening to his intuition. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he made his decision. “With respect, Mr. Chatburn, I would like to remain planetside and rejoin the amira. You may need a pair of eyes close to the situation.”
“That is not an option,” the XO replied. “Everything we’re looking at up here suggests heavy fighting in a matter of hours. We don’t need the added responsibility of worrying about your safety while Gadira burns.”
“I think it may be important to stay close to events and keep you posted on the Gadirans’ concerns,” Sikander replied. “In my estimation, it’s worth a small risk. Oh, and Chief Reza will be with me. I won’t be alone.”
There was a long silence on the other end. Sikander formed the impression that Chatburn took a moment to talk it over with the captain, which was confirmed when Elise Markham’s voice came onto the comm unit. “Very well, Mr. North,” she said. “Watch yourself down there. And if I order you to return to Hector, I expect you to do so at once. Am I understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. North out.” Sikander ended the call. Of course, he assumed that his invitation was still good, but given the fact that Aquila had just provided the Royal Guard with actionable intelligence and intercepted a major arms shipment, it seemed like the sultan’s officers wouldn’t object to his continued presence.
He quickly conferred with Larkin and Chief Trent, confirming that they’d received their orders to return to Hector. Then he hurried over to Captain Zakur, who was stowing his own gear in the flyer they had taken from Socotra. A temporary walking cast encased his lower right leg, but the big Gadiran paid little attention to his injury. “Do you have room for two more, Captain Zakur?” Sikander asked him.
Zakur straightened and gave him a measured look. “You are not returning to your ship, Mr. North?”
“It seems events on the ground are more interesting today. I’d like to stay somewhere close to the amira and observe developments.”
“It may be dangerous,” said Zakur. “The amira flew back to El-Badi two hours ago. I am going straight to the palace, and you must know there are very serious riots in the capital.”
The palace? What in the world possessed her to head for such an obvious target? Sikander wondered. But as he thought about it, he decided that he could guess at her reasoning—symbolic actions had value. Sultans who fled to safe and distant refuges in the face of danger were not likely to keep their thrones for long, but a show of personal courage might reinforce wavering loyalties. He wished she had told him her plans, but it wasn’t as if she needed his permission to be Amira Ranya Meriem el-Nasir. She did what she thought was right.
On the other hand, Captain Markham had very probably not anticipated that he would immediately head for the middle of the rioting when she granted him leave to remain on the planet. It might be for the best if he neglected to bring that to her attention now. “I understand,” Sikander told Zakur. “Perhaps we can find a way to help.”
The Gadiran thought it over for only a moment. “Very well, then. I cannot promise that you will have access to the amira when we arrive, but I have no objection if you wish to come along.”
Sikander and Darvesh tossed their bags into the flyer’s cabin and racked their weapons inside. Sikander took the pilot’s seat, and began to warm up the engines. As soon as Zakur and his remaining Royal Guards took their seats, Sikander lifted off, and pointed the flyer’s nose toward the distant capital. Figuring that speed was of the essence, he configured the vehicle for high-altitude flight and climbed to twenty thousand meters, taking it supersonic.
Even at the flyer’s best speed, the flight from Meknez to Tanjeer was not short. He ate a small snack and caught a twenty-minute nap over the southern arm of the Silver Sea in the middle of the flight, compensating at least a little for the late night and early morning he’d just had. Sikander made sure he was back at the controls a good five hundred kilometers from Tanjeer. Beside him, Tarek Zakur’s face grew sterner as the minutes ticked by. He seemed to be working with at least three different comm channels, trading rapid-fire orders in Jadeed-Arabi that exceeded Sikander’s limited vocabulary in the language.
Sikander waited until Zakur seemed to be between calls. “Should we continue toward the palace?” he asked the Gadiran officer.
“Yes, as quickly as possible,” Zakur told him. “There is heavy fighting near El-Badi. You should assume you may be landing under fire.”
“The insurgents are that close to the palace grounds?”
“They are, but the street fighting is not what concerns me,” Zakur replied. “There is an unidentified column moving on the palace from the west. Apparently a large force of regular troops debarked from seaborne freight carriers docked in the cargo port. They deployed light armor and air cover while the Royal Guard dealt with widespread riots in other districts.”
“A coordinated attack with the urban insurgents?” Darvesh asked from the backseat.
“Or opportunism,” Zakur answered. “The commander of the palace garrison has tried to summon reinforcements from the Royal Guard bases on the outskirts of the capital, but there seems to be some trouble in getting them out of their barracks.”
“That is beginning to sound like a coup,” Sikander said. “Who is behind it?”
“One or more of the beys. They maintain private armies, and they can afford mechanized formations. The Caidists don’t have any heavy forces.” Zakur allowed himself a grim smile. “The traitors might not be as clever as they think, though. The sultan left last night for the Khalifa Palace to visit his daughters. He is in Toutay, not Tanjeer.”
Ahead of him, Sikander caught the first distant glimpse of the brown smudge of Tanjeer. Even at this distance, he could make out thin black plumes of smoke drifting into the sky. He glanced over his shoulder. “Darvesh, contact Hector and tell them what’s going on. I’d better pay attention to the flying.”