“You promised fair treatment if I confessed everything. When will I see my family?”

  His interrogators shared a frown.

  “The situation on Hokkaido is fragile,” Ham said. “Your role in bringing the Swarm Battle Group here is being withheld from the public for the time being. We don’t believe they’ll understand what tethering is, and it will likely produce panic among those who do. But those who know are inclined to have you executed for crimes against the Hokki people.”

  “I never wanted to hurt anyone here. I made that clear in my testimonial.”

  “No one doubts it. Between Royal rescuing your family and Moon making contact with his counterpart in Hotai Counsel to warn everyone, plus other conversations our drone detected, we believe the situation spun out of control.”

  “Then why would …?”

  “Thirteen hundred Hokkis are dead. The men truly responsible are themselves dead or escaped. When the truth leaks – and it will – they’ll be clamoring for your life. If they ask us to extradite you, we’ll oblige.”

  Amayas said little during this final interview. Neither betrayed their past relations or how they met in the Origin, and they were never left alone to discuss the implications.

  “Amayas, you know the secrets of the Splinters and how important they are. You’re the leader of this Alliance. Can’t you intervene with the Hokki government?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s too soon. The Hokki people are divided about the Alliance. Most believe we proved our worth in providing a forceful response to the crisis. There’s already talk of using the warships as a template for building an interstellar fleet. On the flip side, many Hokkis believe the Alliance staged the crisis to tip the scales in our favor. They suspect the Swarm ships were built by the Alliance. If that perception grows and extends to other planets, we’ll be forced to prove our case. We won’t be able to protect you.”

  “What about my family?”

  “We have options,” Amayas said. “They can remain in protective custody at Shin’s estate for months. That section of Mangum Island has few neighbors, much like you described your home in Beta universe. We can also work through official channels to provide new identities for each of them and find a safe town on the continent where they can begin anew.”

  “Will I be able to see them?”

  Ham intervened.

  “We might arrange a Scramjet so they can visit. Understand, Bonju, a warship is no place for children. They can’t live here.”

  Bonju dropped his objection. He knew how fortunate he was.

  “Moon begged me for months to steal a worm-capable ship and use the Splinter to save our family. My heart told me it was the only decision that made sense. But my ego wanted more. It told me to save millions before the end. I put being a hero ahead of what mattered. I opened the door, and they walked right through it. I’ll take whatever time with my family you can provide.”

  “Good, Bonju. I’ll see to the arrangements. And I am so sorry about Moon. He sounds like a remarkable boy.”

  “No. He was a man. I saw it too late.”

  Ham closed the holo from his tablet.

  “Anything else, Amayas?”

  “No, I think we’re done here. We’ll talk again, Bonju.”

  They left Bonju alone, with a slight bit more hope than he had an hour ago. It was all he could ask for.

  * * *

  Ham grabbed Amayas and pulled him aside before the Inventor hopped aboard his Scramjet bound for Hermes.

  “You’re very good at these games, aren’t you?”

  Amayas felt like Cortez had been circling him every day since the battle. He forced a half-smile.

  “What games, Captain?”

  “You’ve composed yourself beautifully in every conversation. You’ve handled mediations with the Hokkis, negotiated concessions from Michael, and you still have free run of the Alliance. Yet we don’t know your intent for the Splinters, where you found them, or the location for your base of operations. And these special technologies you’re building for the Alliance? They seem like shiny things to throw at gullible people whose ambition exceeds their grasp.”

  “Ham, I’m not hiding anything from you, the Hokki government, the Aeternans, or the Alliance. When the time is right, and my plan bears fruit, I intend to announce the details. I won’t disappoint.”

  Ham crossed his arms and glanced toward the cascade barrier. The Kye-Do Rings raced out into the distance, as if they were Scylla’s very own race course.

  “You could solve the trust problem by allowing us to tour your base. We lost four members of our crew under Artemis Station.”

  “As I’ve said twice before, I’m terribly sorry for what the Chancellors did in laying a trap meant for me. Ham, if I take you to my base, too much will be compromised. Give me time.”

  “How much?”

  “Weeks. Perhaps a few months.”

  “Hmm. Let’s try thirty standard days. If you’re not prepared to talk, either give us the coordinates or we’ll take you into custody the first time you return from hiding.”

  “We’re not adversaries, Ham.”

  “Are you certain? From the moment you arrived on Aeterna, I’ve had the distinct impression you’re playing a much larger game than the rest of us poor sods.”

  “How so?”

  “That night, when you stepped off the Scramjet, you quickly turned your attention from Michael. You addressed me by name, though we’ve never met. You said, ‘I wasn’t sure I’d ever meet you in person. The future is so uncertain.’ Remember?”

  Amayas felt a nervous tingle.

  “I do.”

  “It was an odd choice of words. ‘The future is so uncertain.’ A paranoid man might gather you can project the future, perhaps even see versions of it. But that’s insane. Yes?”

  “You don’t strike me as a paranoid man.”

  Ham chuckled.

  “I was a Chancellor. I’m as paranoid as they come. You should know. Valentin Bouchet was born a Chancellor.”

  “He was, but I’m not that man anymore.”

  “You scare me, Amayas. I don’t like to be scared.”

  The Inventor extended his hand.

  “Until the next time, Captain. All the best to you and your crew.”

  Ham took Amayas’s hand and held the grip. He locked eyes.

  “I look forward to your full, uncensored report, Inventor.”

  “Farewell, Captain.”

  Amayas stepped onboard, and the egress pixelated behind him. He did not feel a sense of relief, even after the Scramjet left Scylla.

  “Where to next?” Mehta Jarrod asked from nav.

  “First, I’d like a quiet dinner.”

  “Understood. I heard Capt. Cortez, sir. He wants answers. Are you planning to tell them about the Genesis Defense?”

  “Not until I know it’s bearing fruit. By then, no one will be able to slow its progress.”

  “A smart strategy, sir.”

  Cases of Splinters remained in Hermes’s landing bay. He wanted to deliver them to Hokkaido as promised – and as some of his contacts insisted – but they’d raise too many questions. Perhaps in a few weeks, emotions would settle. Every Alliance world needed to play a part in the defense.

  “After dinner, Mehta, I’d like to jump back to The Hold.”

  The SV flexed a brow.

  “So, it’s official. We’ve given up on finding Royal?”

  “He would have contacted us if he had tethered home. Yes, Mehta. It’s over. He served his purpose.”

  “I’ll miss him, sir.”

  “Much to my surprise, so will I. But there’s important work to do. I have mirrors to read.”

  * * *

  Ham entered his office. Paul Ochoba and Hiro Parke followed.

  “Is it done?”

  Paul nodded.

  “It was complicated to install, but the device will work. Thank you both for giving me the time.”

  Hiro swiveled his chair.

  “Mehta Jarrod is not much for conversation, but he makes up for it in food and liquor. He also enjoyed my war stories.”

  “You don’t think he suspected?” Ham said.

  “He’s an earnest man, but he’s poor at subtext. You had the more difficult challenge, Captain. The Inventor knows how to read a room.”

  “True, but he didn’t pick up on my strategy. I never detected a hint of impatience.”

  Paul tapped a pipe.

  “I hope you understand, Captain. Recording a Scramjet’s worm logs is simple, but retrieving the data spool will be a chore. We won’t know where he’s traveled until the next time I can sneak into his nav. Remote transfer isn’t feasible.”

  “It will have to do. Hermes is scheduled to enter the security rotation in thirty standard days. It’s our best shot. If Amayas isn’t transparent by then, we’ll have little choice. We’ll track him to his base and force his hand.”

  Paul took a puff and shared his pipe with Hiro.

  “He’ll be tough to crack. I don’t think he’s necessarily working against us, but he has his own agenda. He won’t allow anyone to get between him and it.”

  “Agreed. Something occurred to me this morning: Did he ever properly thank us for coming to his aid? Do you recall the words?”

  Paul and Hiro grimaced.

  “Neither do I. He never thanked us for Meena, or Po, or Chi.”

  “He’s an immortal,” Paul said. “I don’t think they have quite the same appreciation for mortal sacrifice.”

  “He says the right things,” Hiro added, “but he seems detached somehow. As if it’s all playing out like a game.”

  “And we’ve given him thirty more days to play his game without interference. Much can change between now and then.”

  “And it will, I have no doubt,” Ham said. “Not up here, mind you. I think orbital security will be a quiet job.”

  “You don’t believe they’ll strike back soon?”

  “No. Even if they make progress duplicating Bonju’s device, the Swarm have only the one Splinter. He said Royal tethered across with Bonju’s other cubes. Their threat is long-term. Good for us. We’ll have to navigate the shifting tides of politics in the meantime. The calls for an interstellar navy will grow. They’ll call upon our input, perhaps even to take on crucial roles. Every day will bring fresh new challenges.”

  Hiro exhaled a long stream of smoke.

  “And when they don’t, we can sit around for hours staring at the Kye-Do rings.”

  Paul sighed. “There are worse ways to pass the time.”

  “Or perhaps some shore leave. You know Pinchon, Captain. Think you might want to show us around sometime?”

  “It would be a nice distraction if I thought we could roam the city incognito. Unfortunately, we’ve become celebrities of a strange sort. Vids from the conference have been widely viewed. I’m uncertain how we’d be received at some of my old haunts in Zozo.”

  “Won’t know unless we try.”

  “Actually, I was thinking about a change of pace. New Seoul has an unmistakable energy.”

  Hiro and Paul shared a conspiratorial glance, which Ham caught.

  “Tell me.”

  “We were wondering about the woman you left behind. Mi Cha Woo. You haven’t mentioned her since we returned.”

  Mi Cha lived hidden in Ham’s flat for years. She was another victim of the Bouchets’ genetic engineering experiments – and the only person Ham ever loved. The authorities would have killed her to prevent her from becoming a biological weapon. The day after the attack on Kara and Ya-Li’s wedding, Ham smuggled Mi Cha to Huryo, where she lived under a new identity. The former head of Green Sun, Lan Chua, meant to keep a watchful eye, but he died weeks later.

  Ham often stood behind the cascade barrier not to admire the rings but to study Hokkaido’s moon. Was she waiting for him? Or had her heart moved on?

  “I reached out to a former associate of Lan Chua. He’s making inquiries. She was well hidden. I have no idea where, by design. Most of the Green Sun agents who escaped to Huryo were assassinated. If maintaining Mi Cha’s secrecy will keep her safe, I won’t push.”

  Paul slid back his chair and tapped his pipe.

  “Just know, we’re here to support whatever you choose to do.”

  “Thank you, Paul. Back to the grind?”

  “Wrong word,” Hiro said. “Peace sounds better.”

  “Peace is nice,” Ham said. “Especially when you know it won’t last.”

  38

  Aeterna

  T HREE DAYS AFTER HE RETURNED HOME, Exeter received a summons to meet Michael Cooper on the Lioness. He had expected to be dressed down during the return jump or called into the Minister’s office in Promise. Caleb told him not to worry. Michael was likely sorting out loose ends after the mission. Another debrief, Exeter’s lover said.

  Exeter had a bad feeling. The only thing worse than Michael’s flamboyant, room-stealing presence was his protracted silence. Exeter reported to Level Five and found Michael waiting alone in the corridor. He saluted the Minister.

  “Col. Woolsey, thanks for being johnny on the spot.”

  “Your message sounded urgent, Minister.”

  “All my messages are urgent. Follow me.”

  He remembered the surroundings.

  “This is where I was held after you found me at the Nexus.”

  “Have you been up here since?”

  “Not since I was transferred planetside.”

  “All the newbies used to come through here. We don’t use Level Five much anymore.”

  “Why am I here, Minister? Does this have to do with what happened on the bridge?”

  Michael halted and dropped his hands to his hips.

  “You mean that sweet, perfectly accidental moment where you outed the fact that we had Bonju Taron in custody? Something I told you in confidence.”

  “Yes, Minister.”

  “That was no accident, was it?”

  “No, sir. I felt we needed to be honest about a …”

  “What you felt is neither here nor there, Colonel. You overstepped and made a goddamn fool of me.” He transitioned to a beaming smile. “Lucky for you, I’m gonna brush it off. I just need you to do one favor, and it’s forgotten.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  He motioned Exeter to follow. A moment later, they stood outside a nondescript door. Michael held his hand over the printlock but did not press it.

  “Do you know who’s inside?”

  “I’ve heard whispers of a prisoner but nothing concrete.”

  He pressed the printlock. Inside, ex-Supreme Admiral Angela Poussard rose from a sofa. Symphonic music filled the room.

  Shit.

  “There she is, Colonel. The woman who gave you a prosthetic arm with an explosive inside. The woman who left you to freeze to death outside our Nexus point.”

  Angela showed no reaction. She wasn’t the domineering figure who oversaw his captivity in the Chancellor fleet or stood defiant against Michael at the Arakaat Shipyards on Euphrates. She didn’t seem frail or submissive, just bored.

  “Really, Michael?” She said with a shrug. “This is how you’re going to do it?”

  “What is she talking about, Minister?”

  “Nothing. Angela likes to talk in circles, when she talks at all.”

  “I don’t understand, Minister. Why’s she here? I assumed you killed her weeks ago.”

  “What I did, Colonel, was give this bitch an opportunity to make things right. She said, ‘no dice.’ Today is her last chance.”

  “To do what?”

  Angela waved them both off and returned to the sofa. She ramped up the volume, but Michael countermanded.

  “Exeter, sweet Exeter,” she said. “I don’t think you know the true Michael Cooper. Should I tell him, Michael?”

  “Go for it.”

  “Your Minister preserved my life because I know something he doesn’t: The coordinates of the Chancellor fleet. He claimed he’ll set me free if I give them up. He intends to destroy it. Slaughter thirty thousand people.”

  Exeter felt many things in the moment but not surprise. Michael never hid his obsession with the fleet or the Chancellor threat.

  “Is this true, Minister?”

  “You’re damn right. I’ll solve a problem and guarantee peace for our people.”

  “He knows I’ll die before I help him. He brought you here to be my executioner.”

  Now he was surprised. Exeter looked up at Michael and saw no hint of denial.

  “She’s a waste of resources,” Michael said. “Time to move on.”

  “Minister, I …”

  “Colonel, grab your sidearm and aim it at the prisoner.”

  “Minister?”

  “You planning to make me look like a fool again? I gave you an order, Colonel.”

  Exeter snatched his laser pistol from its holster and wrapped it in a firm, two-handed grip. He aimed at her heart.

  “Shoot her, Colonel.”

  Exeter saw it in those blue eyes: Her fight was done. She gave up a long time ago. She never believed Michael would uphold his end of the deal. Exeter remembered the last time he saw Angela at the shipyards. She was being escorted away, while her aide Siobhan Morrow remained behind. Michael ordered him to shoot the aide, which he did. Point-blank, no hesitation.

  They were the enemy that day.

  Not now.

  He lowered the pistol.

  “We beat them, Minister. We don’t need to kill them anymore.”

  “You’re refusing my order?”

  Exeter remembered when he pressed a button at the Inventor’s request and killed sixteen hundred Chancellors over Artemis Station.

  “I’m tired of killing people who aren’t my enemy. The Swarm are the only ones we need to worry about.”

  “I have one job, Colonel. Protect the people of Aeterna. You have one job. Follow my fucking orders.”

  Angela didn’t say the words, but Exeter sensed she was begging him to go through with it.

  He holstered his weapon and faced the Minister.

  “Do it yourself or find someone else.”