Breathing Space Read online

  I leaned back in my chair, my head reeling. No wonder George was nearly busting a blood vessel. He wanted me sliced and diced before this became common knowledge. Because this Sector Two Justice Federation completely validates my stance. Another realisation gutpunched me. It was probably my announcement regarding the Hawking felons that decided some of the waverers the P’s are a safe pair of hands, after all.

  Yeah. Though why you’d want to waste any more effort on that pointless scum is a mystery. You should’ve spaced the lot, in my opinion. This certainly will give your rep a big boost throughout the Sector, so long as your PR bods aren’t snoozing on the job.

  And I’d swap it all in a heartbeat to have Tomas back alongside me, cracking silly jokes and rubbing my feet. I may have given into a fit of weeping at that particular moment – despite Jessica’s protests – if my workdesk hadn’t lit up like a supernova on a moonless night.

  Diana’s face sprang onto my screen, creased with her habitual worried frown. “Elizabeth? I’m so sorry about all of it. Especially the Emergency Meeting. George had us all solidly fearing that we were about to be bankrupted by your suggestion to bring the felons home.” She sighed. “I should’ve known that you had that possibility covered.”

  One of Diana’s endearing qualities – and she had a bunch of them – was her solid belief in my near-omniscience. I could have wasted time and breath trying to explain to her it was merely a lucky coincidence that my announcement regarding the fate of the Hawking perpetrators narrowly preceded the publicity regarding the new Justice Federation in Sector Two and she would have just winked and agreed with me. So I didn’t bother naysaying her.

  “The Council are resuming early, with a view to working out their response to the Sector Two announcement.” She hesitated. “Are you up to attending? Because George is strenuously arguing that you are unfit, due to having collapsed in a grief-stricken mess.”

  “He wishes!” I snapped. “Thank you for the sitrep, Di. I’ll be along directly.”

  The furrow between her brows bit deeper into her forehead. “I’m so sorry… about Tomas. George insisted we had no choice but to endorse his execution for treason.”

  And it’s a choice he’ll be very sorry about before I’m through. I promise, Tomas…

  “It’s solid.” It isn’t solid, at all. My throat closed up whenever I thought of Tomas, so saying anything else on the subject wasn’t an option. Instead I explained what I’d learnt about George’s moves against me, well before Tomas pitched up.

  “Sh, Elizabeth!” She actually looked around. “You shouldn’t be saying these things on an open frequency.”

  “Oh! D’you think my coms calls could be monitored?” In fact, I’m betting they are. And – yeah – I’m giving you notice, Number Two, that I’m aware of your scuzzy scheming.

  After Diana signed off, I ignored the chimes and lights playing on my workdesk. Short of Restormel being invaded, nothing else was more important than the upcoming Council Meeting. I looked in the mirror, glad I’d opted to wear full dress uniform for the Meeting that morning. Then pulled my shoulders back and straightened up. Time to go to war.

  *

  “…sure I am talking for everyone in the Peace and Prosperity Corps when I say how delighted we are at this latest turn of events. Everyone in Sector Two deserves to live and work in the knowledge they are safe. That criminals aren’t going to swoop out of the sky to rip their life’s work apart and visit death and destruction upon them. I would like to congratulate all the governing bodies and councils who took part in this farsighted decision…” Jasen’s rumbling baritone faded as Chairman Beck jabbed a button on his workdesk.

  “Responses to Admiral Starcaster’s first announcement on behalf of the P’s?” he asked.

  All eyes turned to me. As Chief it was Council convention that I generally went first in these types of discussion – an advantage I wasn’t about to waste. “Admiral Starcaster sounded statesmanlike and positive, without committing our organisation to anything. I think he is to be commended on a great performance.”

  A number of supporting mutters and nods accompanied my declaration.

  They’re just probably relieved I’m not snivelling into a hanky. I added, “It shouldn’t be a surprise. Jasen is good at this stuff.” Admirable traits for a P’s leader, as it happens.

  While I avoided looking directly at Number Two, I caught his faint frown out of the corner of my eyes as I leaned back in my chair, apparently focused on what everyone else had to say.

  Which was George’s cue. “Of course, it is unfortunate that Jasen didn’t see fit to wait until consulting with us—ˮ

  He wasn’t getting away with that one. “Point of order, Chairman, surely we are evaluating the content of Admiral Starcaster’s response, rather than debating whether he should have made a statement. I believe we all recognise the need for an immediate response from a P’s spokesman on the spot, given the extraordinary circumstances.”

  “Indeed.” Chairman Beck was clearly irritated. “Please keep to the matter in hand, Councilman Nova.”

  George had his impervious face stapled in place. “My apologies, Chairman. I agree with the Chief. Given the circumstances, he has managed to respond without causing us further problems.” He paused. “Although it might’ve been more prudent to have allowed the P’s Publicity Relations Officer to make this announcement.”

  “That’s nonsense, Chairman!” Diana replied. “Who’d want to hear from some adminite, when you can listen and look at an Admiral? If we’d put some nonentity in his place, I’m guessing this speech from the Peace and Prosperity Corps wouldn’t be up amongst the headlines on a day like today.”

  A satisfying number of Council members were audibly agreeing with her. And from then on, everyone lined up to heap praise on Jasen’s response, which was officially passed as an excellent effort by the whole Council.

  Jasen doesn’t yet know it, but his Leadership campaign is under way.

  I’d progged my coms to Alert me if there were any further developments on the situation in Hawking and from the ripple through the Council Chamber as I checked my pulsing coms, I wasn’t the only one.

  Councilmember Starsearcher stood up. “Permission to bring to the Council’s attention some breaking news directly affecting this Chamber’s proceedings, Chairman Beck.”

  Florian Starsearcher always managed to use twenty-five words when ten would do the job. So I wasn’t surprised when Logan Beck’s sighed. “Are you sure this is absolutely necessary, Councilman?”

  “Oh yes. It pertains directly to matters we have been discussing during this Emergency Meeting, Chairman Beck.”

  “Very well, proceed, Councilman Starsearcher, however please remember that many of us have other places we should be, right now.”

  I winced. While Florian Starsearcher might be a wordy bag of wind, he was also the P’s cred-counter and despite the difficulties that had assailed our organisation before and since Norman’s death, he’d kept our finances safe. Beck’s trouble – one of them, anyway – was that he had no opinion of anyone who hadn’t served on the front line. It was a major reason why I hadn’t wanted him as Council Chairman, however George had outflanked me in instigating Beck’s appointment.

  Fortunately, Florian was so caught up in the drama of the moment, he didn’t appear to take offence at Beck’s discourtesy. “The new Federation in Sector Two has just proposed to take custody of the felons involved in the Hawking Atrocity. They’ll try each one and if found guilty, they’ll be shipped off to the Cerebus Mining plant.”

  Chairman Beck had to rap his gavel quite a few times, before the babble that broke out at this news fell silent. He glanced across at George. “This, indeed, puts a different complexion on the whole matter regarding your No Confidence motion against the Chief.”

  And this is a textbook demonstration on how to shift any blame that might come your way for assisting in this rebellion against me, off onto the scapegoat of the moment. Beck is
almost as slippery a snake on legs as George, himself.

  I kept my face blank.

  Florian Starsearcher was still on his feet. “No matter what the terms and conditions of this proposal are, the No Confidence motion was presuming that the Chief isn’t sufficiently competent to make deals advantageous to the Peace and Prosperity Corps, citing the example of shipping the felons to Restormel as proof of her inadequacy. Clearly, given they will no longer be the responsibility of the P’s, the presumption that she is incompetent can no longer be regarded as accurate, or indeed, correct. So I move the No Confidence motion be quashed.”

  Thanks, Florian. I think…

  Chairman Beck flicked a glance my way, before replying, “Who will propose that we cancel the No Confidence motion against, Elizabeth Sarah Jane Violet Norman, Chief of the Peace and Prosperity Corps?”

  It was gratifying to see the forest of arms shoot skywards. Even George raised his hand, with only the briefest of delays to see if anyone else was willing to stand against the rest of The Council.

  After seconding the motion, Chairman Beck favoured me with a smile. “It gives me great pleasure to be able to officially quash the No Confidence motion. Three cheers for our Chief!”

  It would have been funny, in any other circumstances.

  As the meeting broke up, everyone made sure they came up to shake my hand, clap me on the back, or pat my arm and assure me they had all been determined to vote for me. All except George, who hung back. Of course, I nodded, smiled and repeated my gratitude to each Council member – of course, I completely understood the situation and no harm done.

  When they’d left, George approached. “I’m truly sorry, Elizabeth. It looks as if I misjudged you, completely.” He put an arm around my shoulders.

  I focused on not tensing in the slightest. That’s what the arm was for – to judge how I truly felt as he slathered me with treacly phrases.

  He laughed. It was a good effort – warm and effortless. “Have to say it’s a solid relief to learn that Tomas didn’t mean all that much to you…”

  “Don’t know what gave you that notion. Tomas had done me the honour of asking me to be his wife and I’d already accepted.” Not quite the truth. He’d asked and I was still considering my answer.

  Of course, it works two ways. When an arm is draped around you, it’s the easiest thing in the world to tell when you’ve shaken someone to the core.

  The arm went rigid. George blinked, which was commensurate to a scream in someone else. “I… wasn’t aware of this development. I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.”

  “I know,” I whispered and slumped against him. Like most English males, he was trained to treat small, defeated-looking women as breakable objects. I rested my head on his chest and put my arm around him, as if overcome with emotion.

  “There, there Elizabeth. I know it’s hard—ˮ

  I activated my bracelet sending an electrical pulse through his body, effectively knocking out his augs, as the thin blade slid into my other hand.

  His normally pale face flooded dull red and his eyes bulged as I drove the stiletto through his dress uniform, and straight into his heart.

  Yeah – way to go, Lizzy. Wahoo! I’m proud of you, girl, Jessica howled.

  “For Tomas. For disrespecting me this much!” I snarled up at his face, before stepping away and pulling out my blaster.

  George staggered towards me, lurched to a halt and pitched forward, boneless, landing on the marble floor with a meaty thud.

  The whine of blasters ratchetting up around me was satisfying proof that my bodyguards weren’t snoozing on the job. All three of them had George’s guards in their sights, set to vaporise them, should it be necessary.

  “Drop your weapons!” I said, “My quarrel was with the double-dealing piece of trash, who offed my man and then taunted me with it in front of the rest of The Council. No one else needs to bleed over this. It’s done.”

  Slack-faced with shock, Number Two’s escort surrendered.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Plainly he was all set to make a bid for the leadership. And with all eyes upon us, we have to be united. Besides, you all heard him brag about having murdered Tomas – and that was a line he should never have crossed.” George’s blood was itching against my skin, where it had soaked through my uniform. My knees were trembling as the blast of adrenaline drained away. I’d stabbed George and then emptied my handgun into his head, ensuring no regen was possible, consumed by cold rage that turned my normally complicated world into a satisfyingly simple one.

  I yearned for such simplicity once more, as my gaze swept across The Council members, who had hurriedly reconvened. Are you disgusted at my behaviour? Is this when Logan Beck will finally move against me in a No Confidence motion?

  They were clearly shaken. But then, George’s bloody corpse was still lying in a scarlet pool, with a blanket flung over him where he fell.

  Chairman Beck cleared his throat. “Speaking personally, I am reassured our Chief has shown the necessary backbone to lead the Peace and Prosperity Corps into the next phase of our development.”

  I bit my lip to halt the hilarity threatening to erupt, as everyone scrambled to propose and second the motion and in less than no time at all, I was officially sanctioned as fit to continue as Chief. If I’d known all it took was to stab the drosser – I’d have done it years ago!

  You done good, girl. So don’t you go and spoil it all, you hear me? Tomas deserves better than you unravelling cos you brought down his murderer. Jessica’s rant provided the necessary stiffening to my spine, as the Meeting wound up and a hover gurney was brought in. Peter and Constanza both volunteered to accompany the body, to ensure no pieces went missing before it was incinerated – the prospect of a George-clone didn’t bear thinking about.

  As for me, I immediately hit the showers. Bits of George’s brain and skull were spattered across my uniform, along with far too much of his blood. For the record, I did not decapitate him. And neither at any stage, did his shrunken head adorn my quarters. It would’ve been an idiotic move keeping any part of him around, even if his DNA was badly degraded. Those stories were yet more mindless journo-jabber.

  I had one more chore to attend to. I asked Chris to arrange for a guard to immediately lock down George’s quarters and office – only to be told that it had already been done. And that Number Two’s workdesk, along with all his detachable mindware and augs, had been wiped.

  I swallowed hard at this forcible reminder that the Black Shadows had been General Norman’s personal guard, directly answerable only to him. “I didn’t give any such orders. Why d’you pull such a stunt?”

  “Number Two knew far too much about far too many scuzzy secrets to risk any of it falling into other hands.” Chris took a breath and shifted.

  He looks like he’s about to be shot. Probably reckons he’ll lose his position as Watch Commander of my Personal Guard. I was certainly incensed. “We’re not talking ‘other hands’ – we’re talking mine!”

  “What if some of those secrets led to you wanting yet another clearout of personnel? There’s folks around here who had no choice but to yaysay Number Two when some major messes needed tidying away. Folks who’re very twitchy cos you slipped a knife ʼtween his ribs. Folks who need to be reassured that such dirt will be left undisturbed.”

  “Violet,” I breathed, feeling sick. I’m guessing the names of the vile drossers who murdered a helpless ten-year-old were buried in those files. And how do I know that you didn’t wear out your own eyes on said info before you trashed it? I opened my mouth to raise these concerns and on seeing the set look on Chris’s face, I closed it again. Whether I liked it or not, it was a done deal. Nothing I said or did now was going to change that. If a number of those guilty of ‘obeying orders’ decided to mount a coup, all my gritted effort over the past three years would be flushed into cold vacuum.

  “Right. If I end up in the morgue, you have my permission to zilch my workdesk. I haven’t stas
hed any sensitive info anywhere else.”

  Chris’s nostrils flared, his expression suddenly bleak. “Chief, if we’d so badly failed in our duty, we’d be combing through every single info-fact on all your mindware looking for the slimers who’d committed such a heinous crime. Before we showed them the full error of their ways.”

  I blinked. “What about keeping such facts safely locked away?”

  Chris’s smile bordered on fatherly. “You could be in the job for the next ten years and you wouldn’t have begun to stack up the kind’ve dirt we’re talking about, here.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and allowed the relief to roll through me. No more looking over my shoulder, wondering when George was about to pounce… no more double-checking all my monitoring equipment… no more triple filtering all eardrops and com-chats from him… He was gone.

  *

  That night, I slept better than I had since Tomas’s arrest. However there is no true rest for the wicked – and of course I’m wicked. I’ve killed two men while they were hugging me.

  The door chimed. Which meant someone needed to contact me urgently. Opening my eyes was an effort.

  “Chief?” Eileen’s voice crackled through the speaker. “It’s Axil. Says you’ll be wanting to see the results on the new mods for our armour.”

  I was up, knuckling my eyes awake, exhaustion whining in my ears. Killing folks takes it out of you. But this wouldn’t wait.

  When I’d been hauled back to Restormel by the scruff of my neck, I’d brought Axil along with me as he’d started pining for his beloved stacks. Because his proper job, when he wasn’t terrifying wrong-headed adminites into doing the right thing, was running the Procurement warehouse. So as well as working, eating and sleeping there to keep pace with the sudden spike in demand for everything necessary to run a successful campaign, he was busy setting a trap for our spy.