“Then they killed the President. Black Star spread. Talk of war. Who wants to travel to a space station surrounded by two hundred thousand singularity bombs? If you were back home on Zwahili Kingdom, would this place be a top destination?”

  Shireena set down the glass of expensive bourbon and slid over. She grabbed Trevor’s free hand.

  “When you put it that way, probably not.”

  Why didn’t I see it coming?

  “Funny thing about history. Every time there’s a transformative event – usually wars or disasters – people ask, ‘How could this happen?’ They assign blame and insist they won’t allow it to happen again. They never work hard to find the real cause. Know why?”

  “It’s the easiest way to move on.”

  Trevor sighed.

  “Yep. Also lazy. Every giant moment in history has an origin point, usually buried deep in the past. My caste formed three thousand years ago when Johannes Ericsson had a revelation. He proclaimed humans to be the highest lifeform. He disavowed advanced aliens, divinities, gods. He created a new form of government and set a genetic test to determine whether one qualified to be a Chancellor. He led the first crusade against the so-called ‘heretics.’ The man built an empire that lasted until thirty-six years ago.”

  Trevor stifled a laugh. “You want to hear the crazy bit? He was the runt of the litter. Doctors thought he wouldn’t live three years. He died on his hundred and sixty-eighth birthday. Most of his generation died before they were sixty. If the doctors had been right, or if he’d simply lived a normal life span, the Chancellory wouldn’t have been born. Imagine. Three thousand years of single-caste rule on the shoulders of a runt.”

  Few people cared about Earth’s transition from so-called ‘pre-history,’ defined by Ericsson’s rise. He doubted Shireena ever read the stories.

  “Enlightening, Trev, but what does it have to do with us?”

  “Nothing. It’s a great tale. One man’s vision shaped humanity, for good or ill. Mostly ill, historians would say. The Chancellors used to force the colonies to teach Ericsson’s story.”

  “They stopped during the interregnum. Tell me where you’re going with this.”

  Trevor wanted Shireena to see the bigger picture before he took her down the black hole.

  “Twenty-three years ago. The first Interstellar Congress. They were about to ratify the Constitution. At the last hour, a group of anti-Chancellor hardliners introduced the Planetary Rights of Sovereignty. They didn’t have the votes, so they built a coalition. Two months later, they added it to the final document. They celebrated without understanding the implication.

  “If they’d left well enough alone, the UNF would have obliterated Black Star before it spread. The insurgents on Riyadh would have been put down. The President wouldn’t have been assassinated. We wouldn’t need warships or a field of singularity bombs. Origin points, Shireena. Bad decisions. People lacking the stomach to fight back. And we pay decades later. What if? What if?”

  I can’t put it off anymore. My shame on full display.

  “They’ve been playing me for months,” he confessed.

  “Who?”

  “The President. The Admiralty. SI. Nexus. I could go on, but that’s a healthy starter list.”

  Shireena ran her hand up his arm and leaned in.

  “You’re going to tell me there’s a conspiracy against you?”

  He expelled tiny puffs of smoke.

  “No. I’m going to reach a logical conclusion. A deputy who almost lost his job ten months ago because he couldn’t control his temper should not be sitting in the Governor’s office.”

  C’mon, jackass. Push on. You can do this!

  “It never made sense, Shireena. When Haas proposed it, and Devonshire doubled down, I was flattered. My ego said, ‘Sure. This station is your family legacy. You can do a better job than the asshole in charge.’ I knew the President had her own agenda, and she wanted a political boost. Promote the local boy turned hero. It was a feel-good story, especially after the fiasco with MR-44.

  “But what if it wasn’t about that at all? Nagano and Haas played their hands today. Know why you didn’t hear any yelling in the conference room after we were alone?”

  She shook her head.

  “They put me in my place. Shut my ass down. Told me in so many words to be a good boy and play nice. Oh, and there was this other bit about a ‘dangerous road’ and a ‘challenging future.’ Neither is apparently my concern, because the UNF and the President will handle it. I should keep quiet and run the station. I haven’t felt like such a fool since I discovered Effie was sleeping with another man.”

  Trevor never told Shireena much about his marriage. He didn’t want his rage to seep out.

  “Tell me the rest, love. I’ll stand with you.”

  He wouldn’t have been sure three months ago. But now ...

  “It’s all connected,” Trevor said. He pointed to the swirling cloud of smoke. “When I reorganize the clues, they form a perfect pattern.”

  “Explain.”

  Trevor knew he might lose her today. If she thought he dove too deep into the paranoia well ...

  Out with it!

  “What if my promotion was in the works long before anyone broached the idea? That it was part of a larger scheme. Let’s say it went something like this.

  “The President and the Admiralty are frustrated because they can’t deal directly with Black Star. Congress is obsessed with sovereign rights. It won’t change the Constitution. Devonshire’s field agents say without quick action, they’ll lose the sector.

  “So, what if the President and a few others devise a strategy to shift the narrative? They use a secret plan called Requiem to sow chaos. They employ factions of the UNF, SI, and some others – including our anonymous friend Nexus. He seems to keep tabs on everyone. Maybe he’s actually running the show.”

  When Shireena raised a brow, Trevor responded:

  “Stay with me on this. They know what they’re doing is illegal. If their secret ever got out, the Collectorate would implode. So they have to be careful. That means their numbers are small. They have to work outside the normal chain of command.

  “As the conflict grows, they gain momentum to change the Constitution. This is important because any formal declaration of war must be legal. If the UNF acts on its own, people will see it as a coup. The first step toward martial law.

  “The President works behind the scenes to build a coalition for MR-44. The chance for passage is slim. She knows it. So do her allies in Requiem. They devise backup schemes in case it fails.

  “In the meantime, they know Amity will be critical to their plans. But the station is vulnerable. They develop a proposal for a new outer defense. The real problem is inside. There are Black Star cells. I uncovered the first. They have no idea how many there are, so they need a way to clean out the station of any undesirables.

  “Problem is, the Amity Charter restricts profiling. They need to put people into place who will work around the obstacles. I showed them one way by handing off Hoshi Oda and Bien Thet to SI. Not long after, I’m promoted to Chief. I’m empowered to write new protocols for resident expulsion. Hannibal Dorrit is sent away.

  “Then along comes Mau Ping. The same day I learn about him, Nexus tells me of an existential threat. Says I’ll put my life on the line to solve it. Maybe he’s testing me. He wants to know how much I’ll risk for the station.”

  Shireena laid a finger over his lips.

  “Are you suggesting Nexus long knew the threat Mau posed?”

  Of all the angles Trevor considered, this seemed like the largest stretch, yet it fit snugly into the puzzle.

  “I doubt there’s very little Nexus doesn’t know. He’s too well positioned between worlds. I’d wager he tracked Mau for years. One of these ‘pieces on the board’ he talks about.”

  “Do you think he anticipated what Mau might do to you?”

  “Pass along the Void energy? Yeah. How that figures into his goal still eludes me, but this bit doesn’t: Thomas introduced me to the Mau problem in the same hour Nexus contacted me. Almost as if ...”

  Shireena sat up straight. Her cheeks dropped. Trevor bet she had never considered such a link.

  “You believe Thomas and Nexus are connected?”

  “It fits. Thomas surely sent the message to Murrill accusing me of going after Murrill’s job. Who else would bear that kind of grudge? Thomas has been able to keep a close eye on me for seven months. He’d be a perfect source of intel. I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  He hated this bit because Shireena had to face Thomas each day at work. Trevor pushed on.

  “So, Nexus contacts me the morning of the MR-44 vote. With so much at stake, what does he say? Mention ‘Requiem’ in the confab. Look for a reaction.

  “What if Nexus wanted to see how far I’d run with it? Another test. He knew Lana Devonshire had uncovered the truth about Requiem. Nexus wanted to know if she’d share that intel with me. They had already planned to kill her – maybe Nexus gave the order, maybe Nagano, maybe someone at SI. Freemantle. The man I suspect to be Director Knightley.

  “It was another test. Would I keep the secret? By then, Nexus must’ve known I was struggling with the Void energy. What happened? MR-44 failed, but I used the Enzathi to end the kidnapping. The President put on a brave face for the public, and I received a call from Freemantle telling me Requiem was no longer under investigation. Speak of it to no one.

  “He wouldn’t have made the demand unless SI was involved. Devonshire almost exposed it. Still, I complied. Shut my mouth.

  “I didn’t seek answers when they announced Devonshire’s retirement. I helped maintain order, covered up the truth, skirted past a few more regulations, and hid what was going on inside me. See the picture?”

  Shireena reached for the bourbon. She swirled the deep brown liquid but did not drink.

  “They’re using you to clean up the station, but if you make one wrong move ...”

  He didn’t lose her. Yet.

  “They have enough evidence to sweep me away. Murrill tried to use the same leverage, but I beat him to the punch. I don’t have that kind of power if Haas, Nexus, the UNF, and SI are aligned against me. I’m their perfect tool. I’ll do their bidding – now with the gracious help of three more SI agents – because I don’t have a cudfrucking choice.

  “The last time I heard from Nexus, he congratulated me on the promotion. He doesn’t call me anymore either because there’s nothing else I can do for him, or because he’s out of tests. Shireena, I’m the most powerful Governor in the history of this station ... and it’s an illusion. I’m their pawn.”

  Shireena couldn’t sit still. She paced, drink in hand.

  “OK. Let’s say you nailed it. Point by point. What next?”

  Trevor exhaled a robust cloud of smoke.

  “I don’t know. It’s one thing to knit the past together. The future is ... I’m flying blind. Whatever they planned as a backup to MR-44 is happening soon. If I had to guess? Within days. I won’t get answers from Haas, Nagano, or Roe.”

  “Then what? We sit back and wait for the next shoe to drop?”

  Trevor sensed the walls sliding inward just a touch.

  “Ana turns eight tomorrow. She’ll have a huge party. I want it to be the best day of her life. No threats hanging about.”

  “And the day after?”

  “We try a different route.”

  “Such as?”

  The idea made Trevor’s blood run cold, but he saw no other avenue.

  “Thomas Quinlan. It’s long past due. I have to deal with him.”

  “If you’re wrong about his involvement?”

  “I’m not.”

  Or so he feared.

  12

  MX Transport Dalliance

  SHAD ABDELMANI WISHED he could relieve Trevor’s anxiety. In good time, my friend. Shad watched via deepstream as Trevor stitched together connections with precision, though the final pieces eluded the young Governor. A few more days, and you will stand at the center of history.

  “I’m proud of what he accomplished,” Shad said after Malik entered his father’s office and watched a brief snippet of the holo. “As a man, a father, a leader.”

  Malik mumbled beneath his breath then added:

  “The feeling won’t be mutual after you cut him off at the knees.”

  Shad scoffed.

  “What a tired metaphor, Son. Trevor Stallion rebounds quickly and with added fight. He’ll adapt when he understands the scope of our project.”

  Malik handed Shad a tablet.

  “Current disposition of UNF warships.”

  Shad studied the graphics, which highlighted active and allegedly decommissioned ships.

  “Our man in the Admiralty is good. Are we sure only the correct eyes will see this?”

  “For now, he says. He can’t guarantee more than a week.”

  Shad handed back the tablet and refocused on the wall of holos.

  “All the time we’ll need. What about Raul? Has he responded?”

  “The beacon is quiet. We haven’t heard from him in two months. Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  Malik delivered a familiar side eye. Shad took it as a sign of his son’s insecurity.

  “The man – if you can call him that – is psychotic,” Malik said. “He’s under no obligation to hold up his end of our insane bargain.”

  “A handshake is a bond of trust.”

  “So you taught me, Father.”

  Malik looked away. Moments like this made Shad question his son’s commitment. However, recent events weighed on the young man’s spirits. Malik lacked spring in his step after shooting Alexi Babb and his crew. Why did Alexi open his mouth about the missing warships?

  “I understand your misgivings, Malik. Our good friend Raul is an acquired taste. No more dangerous or vile a creature exists. But he’s a charming fellow with a strong instinct toward business. On that score, he owes me a debt too large to ignore. Without my thousands of contacts, he couldn’t have expanded Black Star so quickly.”

  Malik grunted as he scrolled the tablet. Shad heard pessimism.

  “You have something else to say, Son?”

  “I turn cold whenever I’m near that cudfrucker. You never should’ve done business with him.”

  “We’ve cycled through this conversation too often. Raul is a means to a fruitful end. His ambition exposed the filth in humanity. Would we be anywhere near fulfilling our cause without him?”

  Malik shoved the tablet into his jumpsuit.

  “That’s the problem. We set him loose, and now he’s too powerful. What if Raul decided he’s not obliged to the terms of the deal anymore? What if he knows about Requiem, or the Dyson Shells?”

  “Or Code Exodus.”

  “Yes.”

  “He won’t care how we do it, so long as it’s done.”

  “Explain his silence. He always responds to the beacon within two days. We sent it seven days ago.”

  Shad chalked up Malik’s skepticism to the same issue which infected most of the crew: Years of hard, patient work neared a long-sought climax. They feared something might yet go wrong.

  Used to be, Shad calmed his son with a few reassuring words. Then the boy became a man.

  “Malik, my beloved first born. You should respect Raul. He is more experienced in the arts of decimation and death than any human in history. Our deal motivates him. He’ll respond when his calendar is free.”

  “Hmm. You’re the Captain. I’m just a lowly XO of a transport worried about my crew.” Malik turned to leave then whirled about. He pointed to the image emanating from the Amity Governor’s office. “I also worry about your fixation on this man.”

  Shad grabbed his son’s hand and squeezed.

  “I’ve explained our past, Malik. Speak your mind.”

  “You watch him for hours on end. He can be sitting at his desk going through personnel files, and you’re hooked, as if it’s an exciting stream vid. If you ask me, Trevor Stallion is boring. He has no sense of humor, he’s insecure, and he looks ridiculous in that ruffled blue collar.”

  Shad dared not argue. Malik wasn’t wrong in total.

  “You miss the point, Son. I’m looking for nuance. I need to understand his mind to determine his readiness for the next stage. For instance, a few days ago he convinced the last of his group to transfer Enzathi fragments into him. He communicates directly with an Enzathi avatar. Now that he possesses the entire lifeform, their relationship will evolve. If I’m right, they’ll soon make him an offer. They did the same with Mau Ping.”

  Malik groaned.

  “Right. And we saw what Mau came to.”

  Shad remembered the first time he met Mau on Tamarind. Twelve years ago felt like last week. So vivid were the days they spent together – Mau in a cell, Shad interrogating on behalf of SI. Every detail in his report confirmed why Devonshire assigned him to the case. Mau needed to be exterminated before the Void energy killed thousands of bystanders.

  “The comparison is not apt,” he told Malik. “The Enzathi rid themselves of the Void gas. Trevor knows this. He’ll consider their offer without risking other lives.”

  “What if he makes the wrong choice?”

  Shad shrugged. “Then the experiment fails. My instinct tells me Trevor will choose the correct path. He wants to leave a legacy for his daughter. Mau Ping, for all his intellectual brilliance, was not a strategic man or a wise one. Trevor is both. You’ll see.”

  He decided not to tell Malik about the elaborate conspiracy Trevor laid out a short while ago. No sense adding to Malik’s anxiety; he’d claim Trevor posed an existential threat to the plan. Unlike Alexi Babb, who expressed little more than rumors.

  “To be perfectly blunt, Father, I think your experiment with the Void has gone on too long and will never amount to anything of value. What has it gained us?”

  “Insight.”

  “Into what?”