Читать книгу The Rhoedraegon Chronicles: Book Two - Paul Sr. Alcorn - Страница 8

Prince Benford sat at his console, frowning. Before him pages of data streamed like a passing parade, flowing too quickly for most people to read it, but not for him. It was one of his talents and it had served him well since long before he had become head of his clan. His capacity to assimilate and manipulate information was legendary throughout the Empire and he wielded it like a weapon, winning position and power for himself and his family. At the moment, his frowning was not a matter of concentration but one of concern.

He had been searching for any information that could be had about one Helson Rhoedraegon, First Lord of his clan and next in line to become a Prince of the realm. Of course, he was careful to avoid any sources that were not public. Helson Rhoedraegon was well known for his guile and Benford had no doubt that the man would be alerted to any attempts to covertly gain knowledge of himself or his plans. It was one of the traits that first attracted Benford to him as a possible ally. So far he found nothing new that interested him, and this made him very nervous.

After all, he had maneuvered a command for the young lord, captaincy of the frigate Paladin soon to commence trials prior to joining the fleet under Rear Admiral Tan, another of his allies and unwitting servant. It was in his best interest to find all that he could about the young Rhoedraegon to insure his cooperation.

He inhaled, taking in the dry crisp air of his office, laced with a scent slightly reminiscent of a forest in what used to be called Maine. It took him back to his childhood when he was forced to accompany his father, the then Prince of the house of Benford, who enjoyed spending time along the cold, wind-swept coast of that area. He’d hated those times as he’d hated his father and his soft, conciliatory ways. Even as a child he had understood the necessity of ruling the Empire with an iron hand, projecting power to the farthest corners of what now extended out over nineteen star systems and more than twenty worlds. It was the reason he maneuvered, the reason he gathered to himself those he could and who could control others. He needed Helson Rhoedraegon and he needed Helson’s commander, Rear Admiral Tan. They were key players in the game and the last think he needed was an inability to predict their behavior.

As if on cue, his comm announced the arrival of Rear Admiral Tan in his outer office and was ushered in.

Tan was an anomaly among the general officers of the fleet, a commoner who had worked his way up through the ranks to his present lofty position and it was testimony to both his ability and his tenacity. He was what the rank and file referred to as a Mustang, a term whose origins were lost in the mists of time but which originally defined a wild horse, difficult to train and physically powerful. Somehow the reference seemed to fit this man. In all of the officer’s corps of the Empire, no more than fifty mustang officers, and Tan was the most successful of them all.

“You sent for me, My Prince?” he said when he reached Benford’s desk. He stood at attention, exactly eighteen inches from the desk, his eyes fixed on some imaginary spot on the skyline peering in at them through the transparent wall behind the noble.

“Relax, my dear Tan. We have issues to discuss.”

Tan looked down at Benford but remained stiff. “May I sit?”

“Please do, Admiral, and please loosen up a bit. A man who conspires from a position of attention makes me nervous.”

Tan looked uncomfortable but allowed himself to relax visibly as he sat in one of the two chairs facing the desk. “Conspire, My Lord?”

“It’s about Rhoedraegon.”

“Ah,” Tan said, allowing himself a stiff smile.

“Yes. Exactly. He’s about to take command of the Paladin. Are you going to be ready for him?”

Tan thought momentarily. He could never take any of Benford’s questions lightly. “I believe we can keep him in the dark as to our true intentions.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Admiral. He’s somewhat of an enigma. That man’s conniving and quite capable of creating strategies ‘on the fly’ so to speak. He’s also ambitious, as ambitious as you or I. “

“I may need to take precautions then.”

“Forewarned is forearmed, you know.”

“Hmm,” the admiral said, thinking. “I believe I can handle the situation. Is there anything else?”

“Just a reminder that we need to create an incident and it needs to happen while the Parliament is in session. It’s the only way to insure our plans won’t fall victim to the more rational voices that will surely council caution.”

Tan nodded. “It will be done.”

He rose without another word and turned to the door. Just before he left, he turned and offered Benford a quick bow.

When Tan had left, he engaged the comm and spoke five incomprehensible words.

At about the time Benford was speaking to Admiral Tan, Zoe Champion was busily carrying out her current commission, walking along one of the main streets near the center of the Bay Area Complex. In reality, it would be more truthful to say that she was gliding rather than walking so smoothly did she move, weaving her way through the busy streets, dodging pedestrians and bots as she maintained an almost exact fifteen yards distance from the gentleman in the royal blue cape that she followed. Her movements seemed incongruous, considering her thick waist and long shapeless dress with a bright floral pattern and her heavy thick soled shoes. To look at her one would never guess that she was capable of such grace. Even her bushy unkempt mousy brown hair gave her the appearance of uncouth peasantry.

Zoe was a patient woman, well schooled in her craft and adept at remaining unseen while keeping visual surveillance on whomever her commission involved. She could feel the beginning of an adrenaline rush, anticipating her next move. She looked for a suitable place to act and was pleased to see her target turn into a small pleasure shop near one of the government buildings. It would be perfect. She quickened her pace and entered the lobby in time to see him disappear into a private room to the left. When the hostess noticed her she smiled back sweetly.

“I’m sorry, but wasn’t that Harold Shelling that just came through? I was told to meet him here, but he didn’t tell me where he would be.”

The attendant eyed her coldly, brushing a lock of unfashionably long black hair to one side and back over her shoulder. Zoe did her best to hide her disgust at the young woman’s appearance, her shining oiled hair long on the right side and short on the left, a very passé style and not well executed in any case. Oil stains dotted her shapeless teal kimono, also very much out of style. She reminded herself to add her to her commission list as a public service if nothing else.

“You say he’s expecting you, citizen?”

“He is,” she said, diverting her eyes and blushing convincingly.

“Second door on the left. Should I announce you?”

“Thank you so much, but no. I’d rather surprise him.”

She crossed demurely to the door of Shelly’s private room and opened it without knocking. Inside, Harold Shelly, a short corpulent man of fifty with pock marked face and prominent, almost tubular lips, looked up in surprise and slowly scanned her up and down. He smiled without much enthusiasm as he shifted on the pillows and repositioned himself to one side of the dosing station. Absently he inhaled the thick white smoke that the post was emitting and said, “Hello. And who might you be?”

Zoe stepped in and closed the door.

“You are, Harold Shelly, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

“I am here at the behest of Carlos Alarcon, whom you may remember you owe a great deal of money.”

In the next instant, his body slumped to the floor, his head raggedly severed so quickly that the human eye could not have possibly followed the move. Zoe stood with her back to the door, looking at the severed head as blood dripped from it like a leaky hose. She licked the blood from her fingers, breathing heavily. Again she looked down at the head, the thin smile still on the victim’s face, the color not yet gone from his complexion.

“I’m very sorry I don’t have time to have you for lunch, Mr. Shelly. I do so enjoy the taste of human flesh, but I really must be going.”

She tossed the head to one side and released the catches on her floral dress. As it fell to the floor she stepped out of it, revealing a black one piece suit that fit her slim body as if it had been painted on. She released a catch on the oversized belt around her waist and a sheer yellow skirt virtually floated down as it unfolded to just above the knees. She pulled the wig from her head, and shook her own lustrous silver hair into a perfect close cropped bob and opened the door.

As she crossed the lobby she stopped at the reception area and smiled at the astonished attendant. “Would you hold out your hand, please?”

The woman complied and a second later looked down in astonishment. She was holding her own still beating heart.

“Your appearance offends me,” Zoe said and as the woman slumped forward, she wiped the blood from her hand on the woman’s dress.

Zoe stepped out into the street and continued on in the direction she had followed her commission, weaving as before through the crowds and this time looking very much the part of someone of grace, lithe as a dancer, strikingly beautiful and overwhelming sensual. Four hundred yards further on she was prompted by the comm link in her left temple and slipped into a deserted alley.

“Champion?” she said.

“Zoe? This is Admiral Tan. I need to discuss a possible commission.”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“Can you be in my office in one hour?”

She thought for a moment. “If necessary. An hour and a half would be better, if it does not interfere with your day.”

“That will be fine. I don’t know if what I have in mind will be necessary, but I wish to put you on retainer, at least for the next three months.”

Zoe frowned briefly. “It will be expensive, sir.”

“That will not be a problem. There is someone you need to keep an eye on.”

She broke the link with a mental command and stepped further back into the alley. Slumping heavily against a wall, she closed her eyes and tried to regain her strength. She would need an hour of rest to recuperate from the work.