Текст книги "Heir To The Dragon "

Автор книги: Robert N. Charette

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15

Unity Palace, Imperial City, Luthien

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

22 December 3024

 

Constance Kurita tugged at her formal obi,straightening it until the proper smooth line of her kimono was achieved. She looked over her shoulder into one of the full-length mirrors scattered around the hall to see if the large and elaborate knot had been disturbed by her fussing. In so doing, she saw that an ornament had become caught on one of the pearl strands looping her formally coiffured wig. Reaching back to untangle it, she pulled her obiout of line again. Sighing, Constance straightened it once more.

Surely Great-Aunt Florimel never has so much trouble with traditional dress,Constance thought. She is always in control of herself and her environment. May the blessed Buddhas someday grant me such aplomb. I do not want to disappoint her.

Two months had passed since Florimel had stepped down as Keeper of the House Honor, naming Constance in her stead. Two long and hectic months in which Constance had learned how many duties Florimel had handled as Keeper. Even her six years as Florimel's aide had not fully prepared Constance for the demands and pressure. Thank the Buddhas that Florimel was still there when Constance needed counseling. The grand old lady was a rock, a shield. Sometimes Constance suspected that she was a sword as well, secretly helping from behind the scenes.

In the dark of earliest morning, Constance fretted at that help, worried about her own ability. Yet Florimel had turned over the office to her, pronouncing Constance a fit and able successor. Despite Constance's great faith in Florimel's judgment and despite her great-aunt's encouragement, she felt inadequate for the job.

Even her recent successes in negotiations with the Coordinator had not raised her confidence. The Coordinator had granted the charter for the new academies and approved the ivory trade plan, while she had made no concessions. Both items meant substantial gains in power and prestige for the Order of the Five Pillars, especially on certain key prefecture capital worlds and trade-route planets. It seemed too easy a victory. She suspected that Takashi was humoring her, allowing the little girl her harmless toys.

Her success had, at least, quieted ShoduchoOda for the moment, making it harder for him to keep up the pressure to remove her as an ineffectual leader. Over the years, he had grown less guarded in Constance's presence. She knew now that he was an ambitious man, one who felt uncomfortable in the shadow of a woman. He wanted full and complete control of the O5P, and did nothing to conceal that ambition from her. Oda did not seem to consider her a factor in the Order's future at all.

She wondered if Takashi knew of Oda's opinion, if he was making her look good to divide the Order's leadership, setting one against another as he did the Warlords who were the de facto rulers of the Combine's five main districts. The day would no doubt come when he would ask for something. On that day, he would remind Constance that he had helped to consolidate her position, of the debt she owed him.

Had that day come?

The invitation to take tea with the Coordinator had arrived this morning, polite but peremptory. Like those she had received from her masters in the order, the message specified no time. Unlike those summons, she knew there was some small time allowed to prepare herself. Her maids were quick and thorough, their expert attentions readying her in an hour, in spite of elaborate formal robes and hair style.

Now Constance stood and waited, unwilling to sit or kneel lest she wrinkle her kimono. She wandered to the window and rested her hands on the weather-stained teak railing as she stared out at the snow clouds gathering in the northern mountains. The winter comes early this year,she thought. Lowering her gaze, she looked over the palace walls and into the confined court two levels below. By the shadows of the rocks among the raked gravel, she estimated that she had been waiting for two hours. Takashi was demonstrating his estimation of her importance.

Finally, a servant arrived to lead her to a small, wood-paneled room where the Coordinator waited. The rich aroma of the tea herbs almost masked the sweet scent of the blossoms in the room's traditional alcove, a properly subtle enhancement to the serenity of the chamber. Takashi's reception was cordial, but he reserved his words for the conventional dialogue of the tea ceremony. Constance replied in turn, trying to slip into the almost trancelike state of peace fostered by the soothing ritual. But she was too nervous for more than a superficial show of tranquility.

After Constance pronounced the tea well-made and Takashi humbly thanked her, there was silence. Knowing Takashi's eyes were on her, Constance kept her own lowered. At last, Takashi's resonant voice broke the stillness.

"Something disturbs you, Constance. Your mind was not on the ceremony. What is it?"

"Nothing, Tono,"she lied, hoping that he would believe her.

Takashi breathed a gentle sigh. "You may be honest. We are cousins as well as leaders of our clan. I had thought you would be more open with me."

Constance's mind raced. He knew she was upset. What could she tell him? She could not bare her concerns about the Order. She needed a safe subject, something that he would believe concerned her, yet not something that touched on her office.

"The ..." she started to say.

"Theodore," he finished for her. "You and he were quite close when young, were you not?"

"Yes," she answered in sudden relief. His son and heir was clearly on his mind; otherwise he would not have picked up the name from her hesitation. Discussion of his son would certainly steer him away from the O5P. Shimatta! What if he knows how we are helping Theodore,she thought with rising fear. This is not a safe topic, after all.

"I have seen little of him since Rasalhague," she continued.

"Yes," Takashi said thoughtfully, "He has been moving about quite a bit since the Wedding Plot."

From Takashi's inflection on the word "wedding," she knew she had started in the wrong direction. Constance decided to shift the focus of the conversation. "Theodore now serves on the staff of Warlord Cherenkoff, does he not?"

"That is his assignment, but he is here on Luthien."

That was not news to Constance, but she felt it best not to reveal her knowledge. "How wonderful! You have kept him away for so long."

"I have not summoned him here," Takashi said ominously.

So much for that being an innocuous angle,Constance thought. There seemed to be no safe area of discussion concerning Theodore.

"Has there been another problem with the Warlord?" she ventured.

"Probably, but that is not the issue.”

“Perhaps it is just time for a new assignment," Constance suggested.

Takashi said nothing, and Constance let her mind race over the last several years.

Theodore's marriage to Tomoe had surprised her and Florimel when a fearful but uncontrite Tomoe had reported it to them before their departure from Rasalhague after the abortive conspiracy. Florimel had been less enraged than Constance expected, and had finally decided to support Theodore's plan to keep the marriage a secret. Maintaining secrecy was easy enough; steering Takashi's plans away from other arranged marriages was somewhat harder. But the O5P had managed. She knew that the ISF also had a hand in scuttling more than one arrangement. What lever could Theodore have with Director Indrahar that the spymaster would support the son rather than the father, his childhood friend?

Constance had not seen much of Theodore these last few years, but she knew his service record quite well. After the Wedding Plot was unraveled, his assignment to the Rasalhague Regulars had been canceled, and he had been shipped out to the Benjamin District. In the year that followed, he had been shuttled through three regiments of the Benjamin Regulars, including the Third, Warlord Yoriyoshi's own command. He had ended the year with a stint in the Second Sword of Light Regiment, one of the Combine's elite military units. Through all those travels, Tomoe and the rest of his command lance had accompanied him.

She remembered a note from him received at the end of 3020. In it, Theodore reported that his father had raged at Theodore's latest refusal to consent to another marriage. The heir's attitude had insulted the woman's father, who had withdrawn from the arrangement. In reaction, Takashi had ordered Theodore's lance out of the Sword of Light. Theodore had been philosophical. While pleased at the chance to work with that elite unit, his assignments had all been similar since Rasalhague. None were near the front, where he might earn glory.

His next assignment was with the Arkab Legion, apparently a punishment that would make him long for the Japanese customs that permeated most of the Combine. The Arkab Legionnaires were primarily soldiers native to the strongholds of Islamic culture in the Combine. They lived by folkways alien to the Kurita norm. Yet Theodore's letters had revealed him to be more intrigued than repelled by the differences of those Islamic warriors. His only complaint was their attitude toward Tomoe.

The whirlwind rotation had continued. Theodore had served with seven regiments of the Dieron Regulars, none for more than four months. His letters still mourned the lack of opportunities to prove himself as a warrior, and Takashi had finally responded to his continual requests for a frontline post by transferring his son to the staff of Warlord Yoriyoshi. Much as Theodore hoped to see action on the Davion border, it was relatively quiet. And when things did heat up, Theodore's assignments always seemed to lead him elsewhere.

The easy duty came at a fortunate time. The Order, by virtue of a request from the non-existent Lord Sakade, was able to arrange for Tomoe's absence without arousing suspicion. She passed her time in the safety and security of Benjamin, eventually presenting Theodore with a son.

After Theodore had been on Yoriyoshi's staff for nine months, Takashi advanced another likely candidate for marriage to Theodore. Constance knew far better than the Coordinator how the girl in question became involved in compromising circumstances that forced Takashi to repudiate the deal. Perhaps in frustration, Takashi transferred Theodore yet again. This time he sent his heir to serve on the staff of the fat and obnoxious Warlord Vasily Cherenkoff, General of the Armies. With the transfer, Theodore had received a promotion to Chu-sa."For appearances," Theodore had claimed in a letter. "He really has done this to punish me. The Warlord is overbearing and utterly stupid. The only initiative he shows is in claiming credit for any good ideas his staff hands him." Theodore and the Warlord argued constantly and Cherenkoff reported nothing good to Takashi.

Still, Theodore had now served in the staff position longer than anywhere else since the Wisdom of the Dragon school. Maybe he is growing up,Constance thought. Perhaps the son Tomoe gave him has made him a man.

Constance looked up at Takashi. His face was sour, his eyes downcast. Perhaps he, too, was reflecting on his son's career, for he seemed not to have noticed her silence. She wondered what he thought of her suggestion about a new assignment for Theodore.

"Theodore was always restless as a youth. A change of scenery might make him more amenable to your wishes."

"It has not so far," Takashi began. He clearly had more to say, but stopped suddenly, head cocked in listening. In a moment, Constance, too, heard the approaching footsteps.

16

Unity Palace, Imperial City, Luthien

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

22 December 3024

 

The shojidoor shrilled as it was forced violently through its tracks.

Theodore Kurita stepped into the room, the white of his dress uniform jacket strangely bright in the shadowy room. As he slid the door shut behind him, Constance noted the changes almost unconsciously. His shoulders had broadened with the strong muscles of a grown man. He was still lean, a karatekarather than a sumotori,and as handsome as ever. She swiftly suppressed a flash of envy for Tomoe.

Theodore's blue eyes were icy as he advanced to where he towered over the Coordinator. "I have heard that you have done the unthinkable."

Takashi simply stared through his son's belt buckle and calmly moved his tea cup to one side.

"I cannot believe it," Theodore exclaimed. "Tell me that it is only a rumor."

Takashi settled back on his heels, a look of long-suffering forbearance on his face. "Be seated, my son, and we will talk."

Constance started to stand, but Takashi shook his head, "Please stay, Constance. Your presence may keep this more civilized."

Theodore spared Constance a glance as she resettled herself. She read no distress at her presence, but she detected a definite look of apology in his expression. He settled to his knees, back stiff.

"Do you think her presence will keep me from saying what is on my mind?"

"Hardly," Takashi answered. "But my hope of keeping this discussion calm is not unreasonable."

Theodore bristled at Takashi's choice of words, and Constance knew why he reacted with such anger. Takashi had long complained that his son's stubbornness was unreasonable; Theodore's strong will had been a point of argument many times. She saw from Theodore's reaction that he, too, had heard the rumor that his father believed him ambitious, too eager for the throne.

Theodore turned to her. "Do you know what he has done? He has named your father as head of the Otomo. Marcus Kurita, the man who wants his throne, as his bodyguard."

Constance had heard that Takashi might make the appointment, but this was the first confirmation. She did not doubt that the Coordinator's intent was to increase the scrutiny on his cousin. She knew that her father coveted the Coordinator's office. Filial loyalty prevented her from revealing that, just as clan loyalty kept her from aiding him in any way.

"You have come here to speak to me, boy. Do so," Takashi said harshly. "Do not distress Constance with your ravings."

"It's true, then."

"I have named Marcus Kurita as head of the Otomo."

Theodore slammed his black officer's cap onto the tatami."How can you be such a fool?"

Constance lowered her head, unwilling to watch as Theodore insulted his father. She could do nothing to divert him. If she acted now, she would not be in a position to help him later. Openly coming to his defense would be too revealing an act. She hoped he would not enrage Takashi too much.

"Marcus was the best choice for the post at this time," Takashi stated calmly.

"What about me?"

"What about you? You warn me of ambitious men, then ask for an important post. You still have much to learn."

"You were head of the Otomo at twenty-seven. I'm twenty-eight."

"You are not settled. When I headed the Otomo, I was married. I had an heir."

"So we come to that again. Haven't you had enough failures? Let me alone. I'll give you an heir when I'm good and ready."

"Your attitude validates my decision," Takashi announced, the harshness returning to his voice. "You are still too callow, too flighty, too unconcerned with the needs of the state. You have had it too easy."

"It's not been easy with you as a father."

Takashi reached under his tea tray and pulled out a Compdisk. "Look over this file. The girl is an excellent match. Her connections will benefit the realm."

Theodore took the disk, his knuckles white as he held it before his face. He stared unseeing at the iridescent object. Suddenly he threw the disk to the side, where it shattered against the fine oiled wood of a support beam, scarring the finish. Theodore glared at his father.

"Reconsider your decision," Takashi said. His face was expressionless, but his voice betrayed the leashed violence of his emotions.

"No."

Constance wished she were elsewhere, anywhere. She could feel the two powerful wills in contest before her. Neither would retreat. Neither would lower his guard enough to discuss the real issues.

"Very well." Takashi reached under his tray again and brought out a sealed envelope. Constance recognized the form and colors of a document from the Bureau of Substitution, the military office that handled transfers. Takashi had been prepared for his son's response.

"Tai-saKurita, you have a new assignment. You are to report to the Eleventh Legion of Vega on Marfik. They are misfits and malcontents; you should feel at home."

Theodore said nothing as he reached out to take the envelope, but Takashi did not release it at once. "When you understand your place, you may return," he said, opening his fingers.

Theodore stuffed the envelope into his tunic, eyes locked with Takashi's. Constance well remembered a similar moment six years ago on Kagoshima, but this time there was no pride on Theodore's face. Instead of a smile of pleasure, clenched muscles twitched in his jaw and his eyes were slitted with rage.

Theodore heaved himself to his feet and stomped toward the door. He shoved the door open with such violence that it jumped from its track and clattered to the floor, tearing the delicate rice paper. Theodore walked on.

Constance picked up the cap Theodore had left lying on the mats, the action recalling her to Takashi's attention.

"I apologize for my son's behavior, JokanConstance," he said gravely. "It seems our talk is no longer necessary. I am sorry to have taken your time."

"Your apologies are unnecessary, Tono,"she said. Unnecessary to me,she added to herself, but long overdue to Theodore.

"Excuse my curiosity, Tono,but you called your son Tai-saas you handed him the orders. How could you promote him at the same time that you banished him to the Legion of Vega?"

"It would not be fitting to have a Chu-sain command of a regiment, let alone the whole Legion."

17

Legion of Vega HQ, Massingham, Marfik

Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine

1 April 3025

 

Theodore tossed the rag down and turned away. The "Revenant" had come through the three months of transit with minimal freeze-up. He looked for Kowalski, intending to commend him on his diligent maintenance, but the Senior Tech was nowhere in sight.

He scanned the hangar. It was strangely quiet, the only noise coming from the bays housing the 'Mechs of his command lance. He rubbed sweat from his brow with his forearm and frowned.

Theodore had seen the sorry state of the Legion's 'Mechs when they brought the lance's machines in last night. He had told Sandersen to post an order suspending the regular work schedule, accompanied by a request for voluntary maintenance work. When the Legionnaires arrived, he planned that they would find him already present, working on his own Orion.Theodore had hoped it would show the men he was on their side, and not some tight-assed, spit-and-polish martinet. He also believed it would be a good way to get to know the men of his new command.

In a way, he had been right, but the lesson he was getting about his men was a sad one. Rows of Legion BattleMechs stood silent and unattended in their bays, a frozen carnival of shapes and colors. There was no pride here, he decided. No discipline, either.

He walked to the next bay, where Tomoe's black Pantherstood. She was fussing over an actuator linkage in the foot assembly. Though the pose did not show her to her best advantage, she was as beautiful as ever. And as alluring. When he reached out to caress her buttocks, she did not start in surprise, but simply slapped his hand away distractedly.

"Have you seen Kowalski?" he asked her south end.

"Not recently," came the muffled response from within the armored foot assembly. "Thought I saw him heading over to the supply shed to scrounge up a part."

Theodore wondered how lucky the Tech would be. The documents Theodore had studied on the trip to Marfik had indicated the supply situation for the Legion was bleak. He remembered one particular complaint that claimed that the Procurement Department had forgotten the Legion's existence. If the documents were correct, Kowalski would need all his fabled scrounging skill to get whatever he needed.

Taking a firm grip on Tomoe's hips, he tugged her from the dark confines of the Panther'sfoot. "We've put in enough time for today, especially with all the support we're getting. Let's knock off."

She took in the quiet hangar, a slight furrow appearing between her brows. She shrugged off her reaction without sharing it and said, "I'm getting hungry. How about you?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. Let's pull out the other two and head for the mess. Maybe we'll run into Kowalski on our way. Let's not take too long, though. I promised Hohiro we would be out to see him tonight."

Hohiro.Theodore reflected fondly on the last night's parting. The boy was too young to understand the necessity of a nighttime landing at the Massingham starport and a hurried trip to a prepared safe house, but he had been a brave soldier when Theodore said goodbye. Already the boy was used to partings from his devoted, but far too often absent, parents. At least, Tomoe had been able to spend almost a year with him after his birth. The deceptions were complicated, but with the aid of the O5P and a few favors from Subhash Indrahar, they were managing to keep the boy's existence a secret.

Theodore squeezed his wife's hand before walking down to the next bay. His call was greeted by the plastic smile of Ben Tourneville. Theodore smiled back as though he didn't know that the man was an enemy, a spy for the Coordinator.

Tourneville continued to be the biggest threat to their secrets, but Theodore saw no good way to replace him without arousing suspicion. The man's proximity to their daily lives was a constant danger, but the ever-loyal Sandersen, privy to the secret, helped immensely in distracting Takashi's spy.

Hirushi Sandersen had heard the call as well and appeared from behind the half wall separating the bays. The tall man grinned pleasantly as he said, '"Bout time you decided to break for food, Theodore-sawa. Those sandwiches Kowalski hauled in for lunch weren't enough to fill the belly of one of the local microlizards."

"You always say you never get enough food," Tourneville griped. "Even when you eat twice what I do."

Theodore just shook his head and continued toward the hangar door, where the little group came to an abrupt halt when he nearly stumbled over a huddled, sobbing shape.

"Kowalski?"

"Sir," the Tech mumbled as he struggled to his feet, pain obvious in the way he moved. Kowalski was bruised, his uniform torn and smudged. Dried blood crusted his hairline, making his normally immaculate gray hair stick up haphazardly on one side.

"What happened?"

"They said I didn't have the authority to requisition parts. When I told them I was your personal Tech, they laughed. They said my word wasn't enough. They offered me a chance to establish my authority. I didn't do very well."

"Who were they, Kowalski– san?"

Kowalski turned away from Theodore's gaze, his shoulders slumping. "I can't say, sir."

Theodore's eyes narrowed. "I'll find out who was responsible."

"No," the Tech protested, twisted back to face Theodore. "Sir, please don't. That's not the way it works here."

Theodore could not ignore the naked plea in the Tech's eyes. "All right, Kowalski– san. I'll do nothing for now, if you'll report to the infirmary. You are off-duty till further notice."

Kowalski bowed awkwardly and limped away.

"He's right, you know."

The four Kuritans spun to face the new speaker. The tall, strongly-built man leaned against the wall of the shed. A thatch of red hair bushed out from under his black uniform cap to shade a freckled face wearing a relaxed grin. The man wore a MechWarrior's jumpsuit with a Tai-i'sblue katakana "5" on his left collar. His cap insignia identified him as belonging to First Company, Second Battalion, of the Second Legion of Vega.

"Ninyu!" Theodore exclaimed, recognizing the face he had first seen in a dark alley on Kagoshima. "I haven't seen you since that commando scare on Al Na'ir."

"It's been too long, my friend. Still keeping up your kendo?"

"Not as much as I would like. It's hard to find an opponent of Subhash -sama's caliber," Theodore said as he stepped up to shake his friend's hand. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my station," Ninyu replied, tapping the insignia on his cap. "Loyal MechWarrior among the scum of the Combine."

Theodore nodded. He knew Ninyu was a fellow member of Indrahar's Sons of the Dragons, and unlike himself, well-versed in subterfuge and the dark side of the military. If Ninyu was here, there would be a reason, quite possibly one not to be pursued before witnesses. To cover what was becoming an awkward pause, he said, "Let me introduce you to my lance."

Theodore indicated each of his companions with a gesture and each made a formal bow of greeting to Ninyu. "Tai-iTomoe Sakade, my exec. Chu-iHirushi Sandersen, operations specialist. Chu-iBenjamin Tourneville, comm specialist."

"Chu-iTourneville and I are old acquaintances," Ninyu said.

"So ka,"Theodore acknowledged, understanding by Ninyu's remark that he knew of Tourneville's other occupation. "This is Ninyu Kerai, an old friend." Sotto voce,he added, "Be careful around him. He's ISF."

Ninyu grimaced in mock annoyance, from which Theodore gathered that the man expected the others to know that already. "You'll find that quite a few people here are ISF," he said. "Watching the malcontents, and each other."

"We were headed for the mess hall," Sandersen reminded them, patting his belly.

"A man with his mind on important business," Ninyu laughed. "Come on. I'll show you the way. I wouldn't want you strangers to get lost trying to get to the most wretched hive of scum and culinary disasters in the Combine."

Theodore was glad to have Ninyu for a guide. In the daylight, the scramble of buildings and huts did not seem to correspond to the orbital photographs he had studied. The walk to the messhall was mercifully short; Sandersen's continual grumblings about the lack of food were beginning to get old.

The hall was crowded, the noise and smoke combining to give it the air of a seedy cantina on some backwater planet. Most of the men and women were already seated, many halfway through their meals. Theodore wondered briefly what they had been doing all day.

The trip through the chow line was frustrating. The servers and the few others still in the line met Theodore's attempts to be comradely with ill-concealed hostility, answering his questions with the absolute minimum response and perfunctory politeness. Comments were ignored in the surly atmosphere.

"What's going on?" Theodore asked Ninyu quietly as they left the chow line.

"You're new, an unknown quantity," he replied. "They only know what they've heard and most of them think you're a wimp, a disgrace to the Dragon. It's true most of these hardcases don't give a fart for the Dragon, but neither do they like papa's boys. You've got yourself a kettle of hot water, hotshot. Let's see you make tea."

Ninyu drifted off in search of a place among the crowded tables.

Theodore spotted two open spaces and nudged Tomoe toward them. They put down their trays and sat down while their new table companions traded shifty glances.

"I don't feel very hungry anymore," a sallow-faced woman announced, standing up with her half full tray. The others at the table grunted agreement, and in a moment, Theodore and Tomoe sat alone.

Two tables down, a man stood and said something to his companions. Coarse laughter followed as he strode across the space between the tables.

"Here comes the welcoming committee," Tomoe whispered.

"Let me handle it."

The man approaching them was huge, over two meters tall and heavily muscled. Despite the fact that the fellow wore a shabby MechWarrior's jersey, Theodore found it barely credible that the man's massive body would fit inside the cramped cockpit of a BattleMech. His lower face was covered with dark, bristly stubble, except for a line running from chin to his left temple. The scar stood white against his swarthy skin and did nothing to improve his sinister look. That look was obviously cultivated, as indicated by the gold stud through the lobe of his left nostril and the blood-red scharacki feather dangling from his right ear.

"Olivares is my name," the man said in a voice that rumbled up from his broad gut and through his barrel-chest to erupt from his full-lipped mouth. He plunked down his tray on the table, pulled up a stool, and sat. "Sho-saEsau Olivares. I'm ramrod here. You get along with me, you get along with them."

"I was under the impression that Ihad been given command of this regiment."

"Listen, pretty boy. This here's the frontline. Them Elsies could come dropping in any old time. When Steiner 'Mechs are falling on our heads, we ain't got no time for a wet-eared academy boy getting in our way. I been fighting Elsies for ten years. I know 'em. We get company, you just curl up at HQ with your books and your bimbo. I'll take care of business."

Theodore raised a quizzical eyebrow. The gesture was lost on the Sho-sa,who continued on.

"We hear you think you're real hot, been burning up the sim tanks with your tactics. But you ain't in the classroom now. This here's the real world. It ain't anything like you think. Your Kurita name ain't gonna make the Elsies bow down and kiss your behind. So if them Steiner MechJocks come to call, stay out of my way. You can sashay back to HQ, and stay safe and sound with the other pretty boys. You should have lotsa fun."

"An interesting comment from someone with a feather in his ear."

"You calling me a poof?" the burly man roared.

"Could be."

Olivares snarled as he stood, kicking his stool over backward. The man threw his shoulders back, a motion that emphasized his massive muscles, and raised his clenched fists.

Still seated, Theodore drew his gun and fired. The scharacki feather floated to the table, its gentle motion almost audible in the sudden shocked silence that pervaded the hall. Olivares stood, mouth open, in shock.