I Mengsk s-6 Read online

  Katherine pulled Arcturus to his feet and all but dragged him into the refuge. With help from Ailin Pasteur, she hauled the heavy door of the refuge shut, then punched in the locking code to a keypad set into the wall. Arcturus took heaving gulps of clean, recycled air, feeling his hands shaking at how close he'd come to death. He clenched his fists, angry at such a display of weakness and fought down his fear through sheer force of will.

  In control of himself once more, he look stock of his surroundings.

  Achton Feld lay slumped against one wall, his chest and shoulder a mass of sticky red fluid, but Arcturus couldn't tell whether he was alive or dead. Juliana Pasteur sat against the opposite wall of the refuge, holding Dorothy tight, and Arcturus went to them. He stroked his sister's hair and smiled reassuringly at Juliana.

  "Little Dot," said Arcturus. "It's me. We're safe now."

  Dorothy looked up and Arcturus smiled, putting every ounce of sincerity into his words. "You were very brave, little one. No one is going to hurt us now."

  "We're safe?" said Dorothy, between snotty exhalations. "You promise?"

  "I promise," said Arcyurus, nodding. "I won't let anything happen to you. Ever."

  "Never ever?"

  "Never ever," promised Arcturus.

  With the door to the refuge sealed, there was nothing to do but wait, and waiting was something Arcturus Mengsk wasn't particularly good at. He sat on a fold-down cot bed with his legs crossed and Dorothy's head resting on his thigh, her thumb jammed in her mouth and a stuffed pony named Pontius clutched tightly beneath one arm.

  Despite all that had happened, she had fallen into a deep sleep, and Arcturus smiled as he ran a hand through her dark hair.

  As it turned out, Achton Feld was still alive, and Arcturus's mother was doing her best to treat the Impaler wounds in his shoulder. With the practical mind-set that had made her such a formidable matriarch of the Mengsk family, Katherine set about assigning them all tasks, as much to keep their minds busy as to actually achieve anything useful.

  Arcturus was told to look after Juliana and Dorothy, while Ailin Pasteur was ordered to keep watch on the vidcams to get a better idea of what was happening beyond the refuge. The Umojan ambassador nodded, taking a seal by the wall of monitors that displayed a multitude of images of both the exterior and interior of the Mengsk summer villa.

  Arcturus wasn't surprised that his mother had taken charge, or that Pasteur had so readily acquiesced to her, for Katherine Mengsk had an aura that conveyed absolute authority, confidence, and credibility. Even at seventeen, Arcturus was old enough to appreciate his mother's strength of character and knew that his father had learned, over the years, not to underestimate her.

  Without looking up from Achton Feld's wound, Katherine said. "Ailin, what's going on out there? Can you see Angus?"

  Arcturus watched as Pasteur scanned the images before him—empty corridors, dead bodies, and black-clad figures dashing furtively from cover to cover. But the ambassador couldn't tell whether the figures were the attackers or Angus's security forces.

  Some of the cameras had been disabled, the screens displaying a hash of static, so that it was impossible to tell exactly what was happening.

  "There's still men with guns on the ground floor, but I can't see Angus, no."

  "Well, keep looking," said Katherine.

  Pasteur nodded and returned his attention to the screens as Katherine stood and wiped her bloody hands on the front of her nightdress. His mother's face was strained, yet beautiful, and Arcturus smiled as he remembered the sight of her standing over him with Feld's pistol blazing, as she killed the man who was about to shoot him.

  “Your mother seems very calm," said Juliana Pasteur beside him. "Does she know something we don't?"

  Arcturus turned his head to face Juliana. With time to think, he made a fuller inspection of her. He'd thought she was beautiful when he'd first seen her, but now, looking more closely, he saw that he had done her a disservice.

  Juliana Pasteur was more than beautiful: she was absolutely stunning, and made all the more so because she plainly had no idea of how attractive she was. The girls at the academy were either driven politicos who bored him or academic types who were no challenge to seduce.

  He sensed Juliana would fit into neither of these camps.

  The nightdress clung to the curves of her body and his seventeen-year-old mind pictured what she looked like underneath it.

  He shook off that image, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts. "My mother is a strong woman," he said at last.

  "My mother got sick and died when I was very young," said Juliana. "I barely remember her."

  Arcturus heard the weary sorrow in her voice, but did not know what to say. He did not deal well with grief, for he could never empathize with those who had suffered loss and found them unpleasant to be around.

  "I'm sorry," he said at last.

  Juliana nodded, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "Are we safe in here?" she asked.

  Arcturus nodded, pleased the conversation had shifted to a subject he could speak on with some authority.

  "Yes, we're perfectly safe," he said. "The walls of this refuge are three feet of plascrete with neosteel reinforcement bars. It would take the Mining Guild's biggest drills —at least a BDE-1400—to get through. Maybe even the 1600."

  "You know a lot about drills?"

  "A little," he said, with just the right hint of modesty for her to infer that he knew a lot about drills. "I plan on becoming a prospector someday."

  "Aren't you going to go into one of your father's businesses?"

  Arcturus's face darkened at the mention of his father. "No, not if I can help it. I wouldn't be surprised if it's his speaking out against the Confederacy and meddling in things that don't concern him that's gotten us into this mess."

  "What the Confederacy is doing should concern everybody." said Juliana.

  "Maybe," said Arcturus with a shrug, looking over to Ailin Pasteur to find some clue as to the state of affairs beyond the refuge. "I don't really know and I don't really care. I just want to be left alone to make my own way in the galaxy."

  "But if the Confederacy goes on the way it is, no one will be able to do that."

  Arcturus glanced over at Ailin Pasteur. "Did your father tell you that?"

  "As a matter of fact it was your father," said Juliana archly.

  "Then I have even less interest in it."

  "You aren't very polite, are you?"

  "I don't know you," pointed out Arcturus. "Why do I need to be polite to you?"

  "Because even fringe worlders know it is good manners to be polite to a guest."

  He saw the color in her cheeks and realized she was right—he was being rude, and being rude to such a pretty girl seemed like the behavior of a savage, not that of a senator's son.

  Arcturus took a deep breath and flashed his most dazzling smile, the one that melted the hearts of the girls at the academy who briefly piqued his interest. "You're right: I am being rude, and I'm sorry. This has been an... unusual evening. I'm not normally like this. Normally I am actually quite pleasant to be around."

  She stared at him, trying to crack the mask of his handsome sincerity, but even the most desirable of Styrling socialites had tried and failed to do that.

  Juliana Pasteur would have no chance beneath the glare of his charm.

  "Apology accepted," she said with a smile, but Arcturus knew she wasn't yet hooked.

  "You're a sharp one, aren't you? I like that." he said, more interested in Ailin Pasteur's daughter now that she had displayed a measure of resistance to his wiles.

  "Korhal may be one of the jewels in the Confederate crown, but Umoja isn't without culture and breeding."

  "I've never traveled there," said Arcturus. "Maybe I will soon, if all its maidens are like you."

  "They're not, but I think you would like it there."

  "I'm sure I would. Would you be my guide?"


  "Perhaps," said Juliana. "I could show you Sarengo Canyon."

  "Where the supercarrier crashedm" said Arcturus. "It's said to be breathtaking."

  "You have no ideam" promised Juliana.

  "Well, if we live through the night. I'll be sure to take you up on that," said Arcturus. his light tone robbing the commenl of any danger.

  Juliana smiled, but before Arcturus could say any more, Ailin Pasleur said. "Katherine! The door!"

  Arcturus looked over to the bank of monitors, but the vidcamera showing the corridor had been shot out in the fighting. A series of clicking beeps came from the keypad next to the door, and Katherine bent to examine the sequence before typing in her own code.

  This was in turn answered by another series of key punches from the other side, which was again answered by Katherine. His mother nodded to Ailin Pasteur and then typed in a last key sequence that disengaged the locks.

  Arcturus fell a mixture of relief and disappointment that their time here was to be cut short, but smiled as he fell Juliana's hand lake his and squeeze it in nervous anticipation.

  The thick neosteel door of the refuge swung open and Angus Mengsk, senator of Korhal, father to Arcturus and Dorothy, and husband to Katherine, entered with an Impaler rifle cradled in his arms.

  Angus was a broad, powerfully built man, his dark hair pulled into a long ponytail that, like his beard, was lined with silver streaks. His features were strong, gnarled with age, and a pair of cold gray eyes stared out from beneath a bushy set of eyebrows.

  He swung the rifle over his shoulder and took his wife into a crushing bear hug.

  "Thank God you're safem" he said. "I knew you'd look after them."

  "We're all finem" said Katherine. "Achton's been hitm but he'll live. Is it over?"

  Angus released his wife from his embrace and nodded. "They're all dead, yes."

  Arcturus swallowed nervously as he saw his father finally notice him sitting on the bed.

  Angus prized his gaze from Arcturus and shook hands with Ailin Pasteur, his scowl replaced with the practiced smile of a politician. "Good to see you're still alive, my friend."

  "And you, Angus., said Pasteur. "A bad business this and no mistake. Confederates?"

  "Maybe," said Angus. "We'll talk later, eh?"

  Pasteur nodded, and Angus moved past him to stand before Arcturus, the politician's smile falling from his face like a discarded mask.

  "What in the name of the fathers are you doing here, boy?" demanded Angus. "Have you been thrown out of the academy again?"

  "Nice to see you too, Father," said Arcturus.

  CHAPTER 2

  ANGUS MENGSK POURED HIMSELF A GENEROUS measure of brandy from an expensive crystal decanter and downed the amber liquid in one swallow. He closed his eyes and allowed the molten taste to line his throat and settle in his stomach before pouring another glass. He lifted up the bottle inquiringly toward Ailin Pasteur, but the Umojan ambassador shook his head. "No thank you, Angus."

  "I know you don't drink, Ailin," said Angus. "But under the circumstances..."

  "Angus. I can't."

  "Come on, man," cajoled Angus. "Surely one won't hurt?"

  "He said he didn't want one," said Katherine, replacing the stopper in the decanter and glaring sternly at her husband.

  "There's no such thing as just one for me. Not anymore," said Pasteur.

  "Fine," said Angus, shrugging and taking his own drink back to the table.

  In the aftermath of the attack, Angus had gathered the occupants of the summer villa in the main dining room, a long, oak-paneled room dominated by an exquisite rosewood table carved with pastoral scenes of a rustic Korhal that had probably never existed.

  An exquisite chess set with pieces carved from jet and ivory sat next to the drinks cabinet, the pieces apparently arranged in mid-game, though the white king was in checkmate.

  Angus's wife took a seat at the end of the table, next to Dorothy and Ailin Pasteur's daughter, and he allowed himself a moment of quiet relief that his girls had been spared the worst of this night's bloodshed. His mood darkened as he shot a glance over to Arcturus, the boy sitting with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes steadfastly refusing to meet those of his father.

  Achton Feld had managed to haul himself from his sickbed to join them. The man looked terrible, his skin gray and greasy with sweat. Everyone knew he should have been resting, but, to his credit, he had found the strength to be part of their debate as to what was to be done about this terrible night and how best to repay those responsible.

  Angus paced the length of the table, his expression murderous, his eyes smoldering with anger.

  "Angus," said Katherine. "Sit down before you wear a hole in the carpet. And calm down."

  "Calm down?" exploded Angus. "They tried to kill us in our own house! Armed men came into our house and tried to kill us all. I swear I'll lead the army to the Palatine Forum and strangle Lennox Craven with my bare hands if he had something to do with this. For God's sake, Kat, how can I be calm at a time like this?"

  "Because you need to be," said Katherine firmly. "You are a senator of Korhal and you don't have the luxury of anger. It achieves nothing and only clouds your judgment. Besides, you don't know yet who was behind this. It might not be Craven and his Confederate goons."

  Lennox Craven was the senior consul of the Korhal Senate, the man tasked with ensuring that the will of the Confederacy was carried out, upholding its laws and providing a controlling influence on the unruly senators below him.

  Angus loathed the man, believing him to be little more than a stooge for the corrupt Old Families that governed the Confederacy from the shadows. But for all that, Craven was a formidable senator and canny businessman, and Angus had exchanged many an incendiary barb with him across the marble floor of the Palatine Forum. The Mengsk family was one of the Old Families too, one of the oldest in fact, and Craven never tired of reminding Angus that he was spitting in the eye of the establishment that had given him such power and wealth.

  Angus took a deep breath and nodded, smiling al Katherine as he took a drink.

  "You're right, my dear," he said. "O need to think this through clearly... Achton? Do you have any thoughts on what happened here tonight? Who were these men?"

  "Professionals," said Achton Feld. "They were good, but we got the drop on them, thanks to Arcturus's stunt. A few minutes more and, well, I don't like to think what might have happened."

  "And you and I are going to talk about the security here later," promised Angus, staring at his son. "But who were they?"

  Achton Feld chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then said. "Everything about them leads me to think they're a corporate death squad, a black-ops unit used to kill off business rivals and engage in corporate espionage, kidnapping, and that kind of thing."

  "Why would anyone want to target Angus?" asked Katherine. "And why now?"

  "Perhaps someone got wind of the things Angus is going to address in his Close of Session speech to the Senate?" suggested Pasteur.

  "It's sure to ruffle some feathers, to say the least," agreed Angus.

  "But that's not for months," protested Katherine. "And your business interests only benefit Korhal."

  "A lot of people on Korhal have become very wealthy thanks to their dealings with the Confederacy," said Pasteur. "Plenty of organizations have ties to both Korhal and the Confederacy, and Angus is stirring up trouble for them. If the Confederacy were to be kicked off Korhal, they would stand to lose millions."

  "I know it's a long shot, Achton, but is there anything on the bodies that might tell us who sent them?" asked Angus.

  Feld shook his head. "The kit they used is all ex-military stuff, the kind you can pick up easily enough if you know where to look. It looks like something local, but I don't buy it. My gut's telling me something different."

  "And what is your gut telling you?" asked Katherine.

  "That this is bigger than some corporation trying to hold on to its sa
vings."

  "Why do you think that?" said Angus.

  "Because all those dead men are marines. Or at least they were."

  "Marines? How do you know?"

  Feld reached up and tapped the back of his neck. "They've all been brain-panned. All six of them have got neural resocialization scars."

  Ailin Pasteur cleared his throat. "Well, naturally that leads us to the Confederacy."

  "You're probably right. Ailin," said Angus, "but it seems heavy-handed, even for them."

  "Really? You heard about the rebellion on Antiga Prime?"

  "No. What rebellion? I didn't see anything about that on the UNN."

  "Well, you wouldn't, would you?" pointed out Katherine. "Aren't you always saying that the Old Families control the corporations that run the news channels? They broadcast what they want you to see, their version of the truth in twenty-second sound bites."

  "That's true enough," replied Angus. "But what of Antiga Prime?"

  "Yes, well, apparently the people of Andasar City kicked out the Confederate militia and held the local magistrate hostage. They demanded an end to Confederate corruption, and whole districts rallied to their call to arms. The city was as good as in open revolt, but two days later, a troop of marines under a Lieutenant Nadaner went in and took the place back. And they didn't leave any survivors."

  “Good God," said Angus. "How many dead?'

  "No one knows for sure, but my sources say the figure is in the thousands."

  "And that's exactly why we need to be careful here," pointed out Katherine. "If the Confederacy isn't shy about perpetrating a massacre like that, then clearly they don't have any compunction against killing a senator and his family, do they?"

  "But why send resocialized marines?" asked Arcturus, lifting his head up from staring at the table. "Surely any dead bodies would be easy to trace back to the Confederacy?"

  "Because they didn't expect to fall," said Angus, returning to the crystal decanter on the drinks cabinet and pouring himself another glass of brandy. "Their paymasters expected them to kill us all and not leave any of their own dead behind. The damned arrogance of it!"