Chapter 108: Winner’s Circle

  “I'm sorry, Ad – Divine Auric Drake, but the senate is in an emergency session.”

  “If it has already begun,” Avalon said, for all the world as if he knew what the Fed marine was talking about, “that is all the more reason I must address the president immediately.”

  The marine's garrison mecha towered ten meters over Rudy and the ex-admiral, small for its class but probably one of the most advanced Fed models. It gave the guy a definite advantage when it came to staring contests. Avalon met his gaze anyway – how, Rudy didn't know – and locked it.

  “Do you think I would interrupt merely for this?” Avalon held up the data-laced ribbon that proclaimed him the Champion of the Etemenos Cup and carried the million-angled recordings to prove it. For all the bullshit he'd troweled on about how important the tournament was, he did a damn fine job of sounding contemptuous of it now. Rudy almost felt betrayed to have believed him. “I must speak with President Ferrill on a matter of vital import.”

  Rudy had stood on the Winner's Circle, the circular platform outside the senate chamber where the Etemenos Cup's victor and runner-up received their accolades, twice before. The platform was typical Etemenos: a silvery metal extrusion huge enough to accommodate ten times as many mecha as it was ever intended to hold.

  Rudy had always been the runner up. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

  He thought of Chloe and fought back something between a sob and a snarl.

  It didn't take a Principle-damned gravitic engineer to figure out why the Senate was in an emergency session. Rhetta Ferrill was holding court on Chloe's life.

  Rudy wished he could hop back in the Epee looming behind him and smash his way in, but if he tried, he knew he'd fail. The senate chamber would reform its outer armor faster than his mecha could cut through it.

  Anyway, Avalon would either stop him or give it a damn good try.

  So Rudy folded his arms and let the ex-admiral do things his way.

  For now.

  “I was instructed not to let anyone in, Divine Auric Drake,” the marine said. Rudy could tell the heart had gone out of his protests, though. Reluctantly, he added, “My CO said the orders came from Grand Admiral Zelph himself.”

  “I see,” Avalon said. He stroked his chin. “Nonetheless, I must pass this information on to the president.”

  “I can't help you, sir. You'll just have to wait until I receive further orders.”

  Screw that, Rudy thought. He took a step forward, but before he could say, or do, anything, Avalon said, “I understand. In that case, please contact Grand Admiral Zelph for said orders.”

  The marine's gulp was audible over his mecha's speakers. “B-but sir, the Grand Admiral, I mean – he's probably busy. Sir. I mean, Divine Auric Drake.”

  “Even if Grand Admiral Zelph is unable to answer immediately,” Avalon said, acting like he couldn't tell the marine was sweating bullets, “I'm sure he'll want to know I have information for him.”

  “If you could tell me, sir, I could –”

  “I fear you lack the clearance for this information,” Avalon said. “There's no need to concern yourself with it, or with me, any further. Please pass on my request and I'm sure the Grand Admiral will respond as soon as he is able.”

  Rudy would swear he could see the marine's hands shaking, servo-assisted gauntlets or not.

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  “There's no need to delay you, sir. If it's that important, you'd, uh, you'd better go on through.” The marine’s visor flicked in Rudy's direction. “This man –”

  “Mr. Algreil is also involved in the matter I must bring before the President,” Avalon said. “He is a witness.”

  “Of course, Sir.” The marine snapped a salute. “If you hurry, you may be able to catch President Ferrill before the session really gets underway.”

  “My thanks,” Avalon said. He strode past the marine mecha as the gateway to the senate chamber unfurled from the smooth surface of its exterior. Rudy followed him onto a long, curve-walled ramp that stretched across Etemenos's core to the former throne room of Chloe's ancestors. The wall reformed behind them.

  “Pretty slick, Marcel,” Rudy said. “The hell did you manage that?”

  “Errard Zelph demonstrates perfectly the perils of leading through fear. If an officer's subordinates are afraid to question him, will they not fear to question anyone?” Avalon spared the rapidly-sealing door a frown. “I almost feel I ought to tell that young man what a mistake he made.”

  “How about not.”

  “I only said I was tempted.” Avalon flashed a smile. It faded as his gaze swept over the open senate boxes.

  “What's wrong?”

  “It's strange,” he said. “We can see the senators, but not hear them. An open-box debate ought to be piped over the speakers.”

  “Maybe your boss doesn't want it to get out how she plans to screw Chloe over,” Rudy said.

  “I will not hear President Ferrill spoken of in that manner.” Avalon quickened his pace.

  I'm gonna use a lot more than harsh language, Rudy thought, if Miz Ferrill doesn't want to let Chloe go.

  Somehow, he got the idea he shouldn't mention that to Avalon. In a mecha, Rudy figured himself the ex-admiral's equal, more or less. More – dammit, he had at least planned to throw the match. He'd hesitated. Right?

  It didn't matter. On foot, he knew he didn't stand a chance. All he could do was follow Avalon and hope their relative martial gifts wouldn’t matter until the next time they faced off in a tournament.

  The hallway flowed under their feet. Rudy doubted he'd ever get used to that Etemenos “feature,” but a walk that should have taken half an hour took less than a minute. At this point he'd have let the damn walls throw him if it got him to Chloe faster.

  Ferrill's office, at least, had something like a real door, probably because it had been the throne room and audience chamber of Etemenos's emperors. Rudy had never seen the inside except in recordings, and all he could think of was Ferrill's triumphant speech after the Feds – after Avalon – trounced the Oligarchical insurrection.

  No big speeches this time. No publicity.

  Hell, as far as Rudy could tell, no word at all.

  Frowning, he tried his communications suite while Avalon tried the door. A message wouldn't get through to Chloe – she'd have had to trade her flight suit in for prison clothes –, but Boss should still be accessible.

  He wasn't.

  The hell...? “Hey, Marcel,” he began, even as he switched over to Chloe's mother.

  Ellie Hughes didn't respond, either. In fact, Rudy's suit claimed it didn't have a fix on hers at all.

  That could only happen if Ellie had left Etemenos, if her suit’s communications suite had been switched off –

  Or if something in the senate chamber were jamming outbound communications.

  “Marcel,” he repeated, “call Ellie.”

  “Hm? Why?”

  “Because I can't,” Rudy said, “and she's the only com address I know we've got in common.”

  Avalon's brow furrowed. “Strange.”

  “No shit. You got any kind of fancy military anti-jamming equipment on that golden oldie you call a flight suit?”

  Avalon shook his head. “This is not my uniform, Rudolph.”

  Rudy didn't understand why the Senate would want to gag whatever they were doing to Chloe. Wasn't like the “last imperial” would engender much sympathy from the plebes. Hell, they should want to boast about bringing her down.

  “This is strange indeed,” Avalon said. “We should –”

  “Do what you want,” Rudy snapped.

  He surged past the ex-admiral and into the empty waiting room of the president's offices. Spartan walls but a real desk, nothing he hadn't expected, even less he cared about. He was a little surprised not to see any guards, but at least it made things easier.

  There was only one other door.

  I'm coming, Clo, Rudy thought.

  He could only hope, maybe even pray, he wasn't too late.