Chapter 117: Understanding

  The world moved again.

  Chloe wanted to sink into Rudy's arms, his kiss. She'd wanted to for so long.

  She could wait a little longer.

  He released her with a nod and turned to stand beside her, facing the bigger-than-life-sized image of his brother and the desk of the President of the Federated Stars. Chloe and Rudy stood at the center of a ring of shocked and ashen faces.

  Chloe couldn't hear their thoughts anymore. She didn't have to. Their faces said it all. Confused glances, fading as she watched to dull stares.

  They – at least the ones she could see – were still alive. Unhurt.

  Rudy had been right. He'd saved them.

  From her.

  Chloe forced that thought down. She'd have time for recriminations later. Not now.

  Rudy had saved the people around them from her, but not from themselves.

  She'd been in their heads, all their heads, and though it was too much information to process in a human lifetime, she intuited at least that much. She tried to gauge what would happen, and how fast. A minute, tops, before the fighting resumed. Maybe seconds before shock turned to panic and someone started shooting.

  Chloe's imperial heritage had failed her.

  Rudy's legal authority over his company had failed him.

  Trust your machines, trust your family, trust yourself.

  But to do that, you had to understand –

  Which ones all of those really were.

  Chloe balled her hands into fists and stepped forward. Looking up at the screen where Otto Algreil's wild electric blue eyes were rapidly regaining their usual cool, flicking a glance to the desk where Rhetta Ferrill was still shaking her head clear, Chloe said, “Are you finished?”

  They both fixed their gazes on her, but Errard Zelph spoke before either of them could. “What have you done?”

  “I've given you a demonstration.”

  The Animus Hunter pulled himself up from the floor in front of Ferrill's desk. His lip curled back in a snarl. “You fool!”

  Chloe raised an eyebrow.

  “Using that power –”

  “Isn't safe?” Chloe asked. “Isn't smart? Isn't sane?”

  Zelph nodded. His eyes narrowed in concentration, undoubtedly trying to focus his powers on her to read what she was thinking.

  Good luck with that, Mr. Zelph, Chloe thought. Rudy had just devoured an Imperial’s share of psions. Anyone in the Senate Chamber, heck, probably anyone in the core, would never read minds again.

  She said, “I'm well aware of all of the dangers involved, Mr. Zelph. That is why you're still alive, and Mr. Algreil still has his ship, and Ms. Ferrill still has her guns. I might be able to get rid of all the problems here... but I might fail, too, and then all of Etemenos would end up like the halls of the battlecruiser, right?”

  “If you would attempt even a second's intervention when you possess that knowledge,” Zelph said, “then you are truly mad.”

  “We're still standing,” Chloe said. She could only pray she hadn't done any permanent harm to the people thronging Etemenos. Pray, and put whatever harm she'd done them out of her mind long enough to, maybe, do them a little good. “Like I said, that was just a demonstration.”

  Zelph's fist curled, but merely mundane muscles and armored flight suit responded to his command. He looked up sharply, searching her face for an explanation.

  “You're not who I am speaking to, Mr. Zelph. I want to stop this war, not shoot the breeze with a broken tool.” Chloe strode up to the Animus Hunter. If he realized she was as powerless as him, he could reach out with those merely mundane hands and snap her neck.

  Never let them see you sweat, she thought.

  She waved her hand. Too fixated on the loss of his powers to use the really dangerous parts of his mind, Zelph stumbled back.

  He'd bought both Oligarchical and Senatorial leaders time to recover their equilibrium, though not, thank the Principle, time to order their subordinates to open fire on each other. If Chloe had any chance, it was now.

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  “Mr. Algreil,” she called. “Ms. Ferrill.”

  When she had their attention, she said, “I think we've all had quite enough.”

  Rhetta Ferrill frowned. “Miss Hughes...”

  Otto Algreil's laughter cut her off. “That's a good one, kid. Me, I had 'quite enough' when the Feds stole everything four generations of my family fought a Civil War for. Or maybe it was when President Casimir showed off how much he loved the law by bombing one of my competitor's worlds into slag.”

  “Everybody knows where you stand, Mr. Algreil,” Chloe said. “Believe me, I can sympathize. It would be really nice to be left alone.”

  “In that case –”

  “But if you keep standing there,” she continued, “if you keep firing off shells that are going to hurt innocent people, you won't be standing anywhere ever again.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Looks that way,” Chloe said.

  “And our glorious leader there?” He waved at Ferrill.

  “Her, too,” Chloe said. “You're both right enough I wish you could get what you wanted, and wrong enough to deserve whatever you get if you try.”

  Ferrill drew herself up and rose from her desk. “I am the duly elected representative of the people of the Federated Stars, acting to preserve the peace and equality of the galaxy.”

  “And you won't have to worry about that after the next election,” Chloe said, “on account of you've been broadcasting for half an hour now how much more important 'law' is than saving billions of lives.”

  “That is also a sacrifice I'm willing to make,” Ferrill said.

  “You do love your sacrifices, Ma'am,” Chloe said. “Willing or otherwise. Maybe if you make enough of them, there won't be any people left. We'll all be equal then.”

  She cut off Ferrill's rejoinder with a sharp wave. “Don't bother with another justification, Ma'am. To be perfectly frank, I couldn't care less which one of you is 'right.' I didn't come to Etemenos to save the galaxy. I came here to save my parents. I'm going to do that, one way or another.”

  “You can't stop us,” Otto said. “That power you just used was impressive, but if you could control it, you wouldn't be standing there trying to talk us to death.”

  “You're right, Mr. Algreil,” Chloe admitted. “I can't stop you. Maybe if I'd been trained for this since birth – maybe. My mother couldn't, though, and my father wouldn't.”

  “In other words, you're bluffing. Badly.”

  “Wrong. Stopping you is out.” Chloe lowered her eyes. “But I can destroy you.”

  “Am I supposed to believe you would?” Otto sneered.

  “If it's between the two of you on one side, and my mom and dad on the other – and Rudy, and Mili, and Boss, and billions of other people? You'd better believe I'd do it.”

  “Killing us would –”

  “Change everything,” Chloe said. “If you were dead, Mr. Algreil, would your wife die to fulfill your last wish? 'Cause once I start, I might as well keep going until somebody with some sense ends up in charge. If Mrs. Algreil wasn't around, who'd be in command of your fleet? Rudy, right? Well guess what, he already gave his orders.

  “As for the Feds,” she continued, “President Ferrill and Mr. Zelph may be true believers, but how many of the senators they seem to think so little of are?”

  “You do that, you might as well declare yourself Empress,” Otto said.

  Chloe fought down a surge of panic. She'd already considered and rejected that idea. Even if she'd been willing to make that sacrifice, she'd never keep up the bluff her powers worked for a day, much less a lifetime.

  Had either Ferrill or Otto noticed her sweating?

  “I don't want any part of ruling the galaxy,” Chloe said. “Still less taking it by force. It's too big for me.”

  “So you're an assassin, not a usurper?”

  “I'm what you – both of you – have made me.” She drew a deep breath and met first Otto’s eyes, then Ferrill’s.

  What was she? Guilty. Exhausted. Terrified.

  She said, “Desperate.”

  “You are also,” Errard Zelph said, “powerless.”

  Chloe heaved a sigh.

  It had been only a matter of time before somebody realized. Zelph had fought Rudy in the tournament and he was a very experienced psychic. He'd had the best chance of any of them to figure out how, exactly, her last disastrous attempt to use her powers had been stopped before it killed them all.

  “The younger Algreil,” Zelph said, “is a Promethean. Specifically, he is a power leech.”

  “You are certain of this, Errard?” Ferrill asked.

  “Completely, Madame President.” The Animus Hunter strode forward and scowled down at Chloe. “The Prometheans possessed powers unknown in nature. None of them were proper psychics. Power leeches were among the least repugnant failures of that repugnant program.”

  Otto's gaze flicked to Rudy, his eyes, for once, widening in surprise. Of course. He hadn't known that the Promethean project produced any results at all. He spent a decade telling his kid brother what a failure he was, all over a misunderstanding.

  From what she'd seen of Otto, Chloe doubted he would ever get around to apologizing.

  He had other things on his mind at the moment. Chloe saw his hand flick toward the controls on his chair.

  “Don't,” she hissed.

  “It was a good try, kid,” Otto said, quickly hiding his scowl at being spotted before he could order his ships to open fire on the distracted Fed fleet. “A for effort. But if you're out of the picture, it's time for the grownups to settle this.”

  “You'd take Errard Zelph's word I'm out of the picture?”

  “If he wants to settle things here, right after he and his top Animus Hunter buddies stopped being the Senate's psychic ace in the hole? It would be downright rude of me not to oblige him.”

  “I sure hope you're wrong, Mr. Algreil,” Chloe said, “because if you and Mr. Zelph are right, this is gonna be really embarrassing.”

  And, closing her eyes, she shed her prison uniform.

  Errard Zelph's strangled cry told her everything she needed to know.

  Chloe's eyes opened as she stretched out her hand to the Animus Hunter –

  Her shining, silver hand.