Grimes indicated the sea of bodies swarming past in front of them.

  “Could be anywhere,” he said coyly. “Absolutely anywhere.”

  LaCruz nearly strained her neck, twisting her head around so quickly.

  “You know where they are, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say that” he explained. “I might know where they’ve stashed their explosives but that’s it.”

  LaCruz scanned the crowd while she considered this.

  “You put a tracker on their ordnance? Why would you even do something like that?”

  “Same reason you put one on the commander. I’ve got a hard on for explosives.”

  “That’s not the same thing and you know it.”

  Grimes laughed. “If you don’t love them, how they gonna love you back?”

  “That’s weird,” she pulled a face. “You’re weird.”

  “Yeah, I’m the weird guy who knows where they’re keeping those explosives. That makes me the guy with all the power.”

  She stared at him incredulously then conceded, “Alright, Big Man. Yes. You. You are the one with all the power. Now are you going to tell me where these explosives are or do I have to kill you first?”

  “All you had to do was ask.”

  He searched around between his feet and then came up with a slim metal box. It was quite a rudimentary piece of kit.

  Grimes made a few minor adjustments before the screen came on then he stared at it for a while before asking, “Where are these explosives meant to be?”

  He covered the screen with his hand and tipped his head in LaCruz’s direction.

  He was starting to get to her now. She had to play it cool.

  “I don’t know,” she said, feigning disinterest. “But I very much doubt that they’re still at Collingwood.”

  “You’re right,” Grimes still had the screen covered. “They’re not there. So where do you think they might be?”

  LaCruz made an impatient gesture. “I imagine they’ve got some kind of storage facility close by. Some type of fortified set-up. A bunker maybe?”

  Grimes raised his eyebrows dismissively.

  “No. Completely wrong. Currently the explosives are heading south along highway 680. Travelling at some speed, as well.”

  “But that’s miles. That’s over in the direction of…”

  “The terminal building.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Webster found that getting in to see Governor Ardent was easier than he’d expected, although getting close enough to speak with her was going to prove far more difficult.

  In the hope of finding a peaceful solution to The Merry Widow situation, Ardent had called an extraordinary meeting of the guild council. The council chamber was set out in the shape of an amphitheatre with the more senior members seated towards the front and the junior ones further back. Webster and Silva took their seats in the public gallery which over-looked the chamber itself. They hadn’t expected to gain access so easily but, after showing their USDC i.d., it was simply a matter of navigating their way through a series of security checks. Webster was surprised how few people there were in the public gallery but then, on reflection, he supposed that the citizenry had a lot more to be concerned about right now.

  Webster was glad to have Silva acting as a guide to what was happening. Prior to her visit with Faulkner, she’d done a lot of work researching how the various guilds worked in practice and was able to give Wester some important insights into what he was seeing. What was particularly important to him was knowing who was aligned with whom. He was disappointed that the one figure he was certain to recognise, Raj Parnashikan, wasn’t in attendance. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be determined.

  They sat through a proposal for a night-time curfew. The council woman making it had a good point but, as several of the other members pointed out, while it might assist with issues of public order, the security forces simply didn’t have the numbers to enforce it. Eventually, the proposal ran out of time and the council woman returned to her seat without a vote being taken.

  Then it was time for Ardent to address the room. As she approached the dais, resplendent in her green and gold gown, the seal of office hanging about her neck, a flock of news drones appeared, beaming their coverage to every home on Blackthorn.

  “My honoured council men and women, guild members, I would like to offer my thanks to Guildmaster Keo for allowing me to address the chamber at such short notice.”

  She inclined her head to a grey-haired man in the third row.

  “I stand before you today as the bearer of grave news. Two hours ago my office was contacted by Captain Mahbarat of the Yakutian battlecruiser Serrayu. He informs me that Vice Consul Syashami is to return to the Emperor’s home world forthwith, bringing to an end this round of negotiations. But that is not all: the vessel which came to bear him home, the Bharu Ren, had more alarming news. As of six days ago, the Yakutian Empire is at war with the Confederation.”

  Audible gasps echoed around the chamber. Silva slipped her hand into Webster’s and gripped it tightly.

  All over the chamber, people were getting to their feet, each one eager to ask a question but Ardent ignored them all.

  She continued. “In the light of this news, Captain Mahbarat has offered the Mantis terms for surrender, although we have yet to hear Captain Faulkner’s response. Captain Mahbarat has urged me to sign a formal agreement with them prior to Vice Consul Syashami’s departure later today. If I refuse he has made it clear that the Serrayu will do nothing to help defend our colony in the coming days.”

  At this point she indicated for one of the other council men to speak.

  “Councillor Buttall,” Silva explained. “He’s a solid Ardent supporter. Watch this.”

  Buttall read from his notes. “It is interesting that, after all our previous negotiations have broken down, the captain thinks that we’ll simply cave into the pressure and sign on the dotted line. Is he really suggesting that if we don’t do as he asks he will simply sit back and allow us to be destroyed? If that’s the kind of cooperation we can expect from the Empire then I suggest that we decline his offer.”

  “Thank you for that, councillor. Guildwoman Tahal do you have a question?”

  “This should be interesting,” Silva said. “Tahal’s been one of Ardent’s biggest critics in the past.”

  Tahal was a slim woman with a shock of thick black hair. “Can I ask two questions, governor? Firstly, has Captain Mahbarat offered us anything which improves on their previous offer? And also, what is preventing us from firing on this so-called Big Daddy? Surely the time for action is now?”

  “Thank you, guilds woman. Nothing about the Yakutian offer has been changed. It’s the self-same offer I presented to this chamber and which we rejected four days ago. The second issue concerning Big Daddy is more complicated. I don’t pretend to be an expert in military matters so I do defer to Captain Faulkner on this. You can be assured that we will firing on Big Daddy in due course but, in order to ensure that our attack will be at its most effective, we have to wait for the optimum time to launch.”

  “Can you share with us when that ‘optimum time’ might be?”

  “I’m afraid that I’m not in a position to do so right now but I will try to keep the chamber informed of any further developments.”

  Silva nudged Webster and pointed. “Look who’s just walked in.”

  Webster struggled to see what she was pointing at initially. Then he saw that Parnashikan had entered the chamber and was moving towards a seat at the front.

  “What do you think he’s up to?” Webster asked.

  “Nothing good.”

  In the meantime, Ardent was bringing her question-and-answer session to a close.

  “Time for one last question – Guild Master Varghese?”

  Varghese held up a hand in acknowledgement. He was a dapper figure with a neat, grey beard.

  “Before we finish today, governor, may I ask if you intend to put the Yakutian offer to a vote in the chamber?”

  Ardent shook her head but her smile was forced. “We have discussed and rejected their offer on numerous occasions in the past, so, no. I don’t think it’s ever the time to jump into an agreement when you’re doing so under duress. Also, nothing about the deal has changed. If they were to offer me a fleet of battleships that could be in position by tomorrow morning, then things might well be different.”

  There was strained laughter from some of the benches as Ardent stepped down from the dais. But as she crossed the chamber and started towards her seat, Parnashikan rose to his feet, quietening the whole room.

  He moved briskly down the aisle and spoke with one of the attendants.

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” Silva said. “But something’s up.”

  Parnashikan mounted the dais and started to lay out his notes in preparation to address the chamber.

  “I’m afraid that I cannot agree with anything the governor has just said. Why will she not even consider putting the Yakutian offer up for another vote? While the terms of the agreement may not have changed, the circumstances in which we find ourselves certainly have. We stand here debating these issues in the face of what may well turn out to be our total destruction. Also, why is the governor refusing to act to destroy this alien ship while we still can? Certainly, we don’t lack the firepower, so why is she demurring to this Captain Faulkner? Is there, perhaps, something she isn’t telling us? Does she refuse to take the Yakutian offer seriously because it’s a bad offer or because she’s not being completely honest with us about her meetings with members of the Confederation?”

  Ardent was on her feet now but Parnashikan showed no sign of surrendering the initiative.

  “The truth is, she refuses to tell us what’s really happening because she’s already made a secret deal with the USDC which she intends to ratify at a later date. The USDC don’t like to be opposed and we saw what happened yesterday at the elevator terminal when normal citizens challenged them. Eighteen people were killed when members of the Mantis’ crew opened fire on them. When did we start slaughtering civilians whose only crime was to seek refuge?”

  Webster locked eyes with Silva. Neither of them could believe what it was they were hearing. Parnashikan might have had a point about the secret deal between Ardent and Faulkner but when did heavily armed mercenaries become classified as ‘normal citizens?’

  “And that is only one example of how far Governor Ardent has allowed the USDC to infiltrate our ranks. Even as I speak, we have spies in this very chamber. Two members of Faulkner’s crew are sitting in the public gallery, monitoring everything that happens here with the intention of feeding it all back to their commanding officer. Captain Faulkner seems keen to know whether we are stupid enough to swallow the lies Governor Ardent has been feeding us.”

  If Webster and Silva were spies then it was clear they weren’t very good ones, sitting there in their dress uniforms but, nonetheless, people began to stare. Webster kept his eyes locked on Parnashikan. He had no idea where the other man was going with this but privately he was fearing the worst.

  “If you’re looking for straight answers to difficult questions may I suggest that you don’t look to the Governor. She stopped telling us the truth a very long time ago. She is now only concerned with strengthening her relationship with the Confederation - exploiting her position for personal gain. You think the Governor is honest and straight talking? Then ask her how many secret meetings she’s had with Captain Faulkner in this last week alone.”

  Ardent was becoming more and more agitated and Parnashikan motioned for her to speak.

  “Just because I choose to meet with someone behind closed doors doesn’t make that a secret meeting. All too often the matters discussed are only in their infancy and, as such, too sensitive to be shared publicly.”

  “Very well,” Parnashikan said. “If these meetings weren’t secret, then which of your private secretaries were present when they took place? I’ll tell you the answer to that: none of them. There was no one there because you didn’t want anyone witnessing you negotiating your own personal terms for when you sign us up to the Confederation.”

  Parnashikan addressed himself directly to the news drones. “Still don’t believe me? Then check out the governor’s diary – it’s available digitally - and look for the minutes of those meetings. You won’t find them though because, according to her, they don’t exist.”

  Ardent had left her seat by now and was moving to confront Parnashikan face to face.

  In the meantime, he continued. “Isn’t it true that during one of those meetings you signed a non-proliferation agreement with Captain Faulkner with the intention of ratifying it later?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” In her frustration, Ardent had attempted to gain the dais but was prevented from doing so by two elaborately dressed yeomen.

  “Then it’s just as well that I have a copy of the agreement here,” Parnashikan held up a slim document. “It is becoming more and more apparent that Governor Ardent has, for quite some time, been following her own private agenda in a bid to reach an agreement which is favourable to the Confederation. In return she hopes to gain favourable trading agreements from them which will guarantee her company goes unchallenged in the marketplace. In doing so, she has jeopardised the safety of this station and everybody on board. She is now incapable of doing anything without Captain Faulkner’s express permission. That is why she has so far failed to act on any of these issues. We are faced with a crisis the like of which we have never seen before and yet we are left in the care of a governor who neither knows nor cares what will happen next.”

  A number of guildsmen and women had become embroiled in a scuffle over whether Ardent should be restrained or whether she should be allowed to defend herself against the charges Parnashikan was making.

  He, for his part, continued on regardless.

  “I put it to you that by failing to ensure the safety of this station, Governor Ardent is guilty of a dereliction of her duties. As such, I propose that she should be held by the yeomen here until such time as these allegations may be investigated more fully. All those in favour, say, ‘Aye.’”

  All around the chamber, councillors, as well as guildsmen and women, were getting to their feet in an attempt to make their voices heard. In all the hubbub it was difficult to make out the dissenting voices but the strength of the ‘Aye’ vote was unmistakeable. Webster and Silva got to their feet, unsure what to do for the best.

  “The Ayes have it,” Parnashikan declared. “Yeomen, take her down. She will be dealt with in due course.

  Six yeomen had converged on Ardent’s position and, though there were several guildsmen and women trying to resist them, there was never the slightest chance that they’d be successful. They laid hands on Ardent and led her out of the chamber.

  Once she was gone Parnashikan spoke. “As Deputy Governor I shall be taking over the day to day running of the station in the short term. Thank you very much for your support at this difficult time. Now, I would like the whole chamber cleared.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The mood on the bridge was calm and purposeful. Bertran had gathered a group of a dozen officers and NCOs to work through the missile firing sequences and they were all gathered around their various task specific consoles. The missiles’ approach had so far passed without incident, the second stage boost going off without a hitch. They were now less than ninety minutes away from impacting with Tom Thumb.

  There would be no second chances here and Faulkner found himself in the position of having nothing to contribute. He had only a limited understanding of what it was that the tactical team were actually doing and so resolved to ask as few questions as possible.

  His crew were drawn from among the Academy’s brightest graduates, he just had to trust them to do their jobs. To distract himself, he scrolled through the various newsfeeds coming out of Blackthorn. None of it was particularly promising and he kept reading conflicting reports about what had happened over the past few days around the elevator terminal. Estimates of the number of deaths varied from seven to forty-five but the picture that was emerging pointed to a military led massacre. It seemed as if Ardent was trying to implement some kind of government cover up.

  The story appeared to be losing traction though, if only because it was quickly being overtaken by tales of food riots and the increasingly acrimonious stand-off at Terminal 1. Reports were coming in of up to sixty people being crushed to death when it was rumoured that an access gate had been opened allowing some passengers into the boarding area. The fact that there was no truth in the rumour didn’t help the victims.

  Faulkner had heard nothing from Webster other than that he had been among a number of troopers who had been taken to hospital and already Faulkner was starting to fear the worst.

  Slowly, he became aware of a commotion over in the comms area.

  “What on earth is going on?” he shouted, levering himself up out of his chair.

  It was Yamada who beckoned him over.

  “We were just monitoring Tom Thumb’s progress when this happened,” he scrolled through his tablet until he found the moment he wanted to view. Then he pressed ‘play.’

  Faulkner watched with growing concern. It was a surprisingly clear image of Tom Thumb. Viewed from the front, it displayed a classic ‘star’ shaped profile although the points of the star were swept backwards.

  “I don’t even know what I’m, looking at,” he announced after a while.

  “This might make it clearer,” Yamada said and enlarged the image even further.

  Faulkner looked closer. “This cloud here is obviously some form of gas. Either there’s been some kind of rupture or we’re looking at a major power outage.”

  “Some kind of accident perhaps?” Faulkner posited.

  “Well, if that were the case we’d be expecting the ship to be slowing down. As it stands, it appears to be accelerating.”

  “And where does that leave our missiles?”