“Not a lieutenant any more, sir,” Esmay said.
“What’d you do, Brun, poison her mind with your anti-discipline nonsense?”
“Uncle Kevil!” Brun sounded only half amused. “She was kicked out unfairly. We have to do something.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to do something.”
“To start with, to listen to the whole story. Go ahead, Esmay.”
This seemed brusque at best, but Kevil nodded to Esmay. “Go on, then.”
Esmay retold the story, beginning with Admiral Serrano’s attack on her. Kevil listened with his eyes closed—she wondered if he were dozing off—but when she finished, he opened them, and began asking questions. The same questions as Brun and Kate, at first, and then more and more, questions that had never occurred to her. Altiplano’s trade policy? She knew nothing about it. Altiplano’s association with the Crescent Worlds? Nothing, so far as she knew. The Emeralds? Esmay felt that he was dragging out of her everything she knew, had assumed, or even imagined, about her home world. Finally he stopped.
“Interesting.” He closed his eyes again. Esmay took the chance to get a drink of water. “Very interesting indeed,” he said when he opened his eyes again. “I was talking to Bunny about this sort of thing, before he died. We were both aware that the underlying structure of the Familias Regnant had not kept pace with the spatial and population growth.”
“In what way?” Brun asked.
“Well . . . when you come right down to it, the Familias began as a commercial consortium dedicated to profit . . . a consortium that agreed to pool resources to control space piracy, which was cutting into everyone’s profits. And if that sounds like a government to you, Brun, it’s because your very expensive finishing school taught you more about social graces than social sciences.”
“But aren’t governments always designed for the profit of the citizens?” Esmay asked.
“Good gracious, no! Where’d you get that idea? Altiplano, of course, one of the grand social experiments of history . . . sorry, didn’t mean to be sarcastic.” Kevil hitched himself around in bed, grunting. “Blast this thing—I want to move my shoulder, and I know I can’t, not for another twenty-three hours and sixteen minutes.”
“That soon?”
“That long. It feels like forever—but this is an interesting distraction. It’s certainly not often that two beautiful young women have come to me to listen to a lecture on legal history.”
“Don’t be silly, Uncle Kevil,” Brun said.
“I’m not. I’m quite serious, and I hope you will be, you young scamp. It’s time to grow up, Charlotte Brunhilde—you, and me, and the entire Familias. We’re like a child who’s been playing games in a large walled garden. Now we’re outside, and it’s not make-believe.”
“I think I’ve seen a bit of the real world,” Brun said, scowling.
“Yes. And Lt. Suiza here has seen more. But there’s a lot neither of you knows about. Remember when Ottala Morreline disappeared, and there was all that trouble on Patchcock? That’s when your father and I began to realize how deep the chasm was, just on the topic of rejuvenation therapy alone. The Familias isn’t like the other multistar organizations we know of . . . there’s no . . . no coherence to it. It just sort of grew, absorbing anything that lay in its sphere of influence.”
Brun looked thoughtful. “Kate says something like that, but she keeps harping on a constitution.”
“Yes, well, the Lone Star Confederation is a constitutional government. Until we moved in, the Crescent Worlds were a religious one. Most governments start with either a common culture or a common political theory. We didn’t. This laissez-faire approach worked very well for a long time, because the founding septs were rich, and the worlds they gathered in brought them even more profits. But it couldn’t go on forever. Especially not when most of the people who actually had power started acting like dilettantes.”
“Excuse me—” A brisk woman in a flowered jumper came in. “It’s time to turn the tank, Ser Mahoney.” Esmay and Brun stepped back as she came to the bed. “Visitors out, please. This’ll take about a half hour, to rotate and reposition.”
Chapter Sixteen
Esmay thought about what Kevil Mahoney had said, and the others had said, but none of it satisfied her, and when the nurse told them they could go back into Kevil’s room, she spoke up.
“I think your priorities are all off,” Esmay said. Brun and Kate both looked startled.
“What d’you mean? What could be more important than getting the government straightened out?”
“Putting down this mutiny,” Esmay said. “Look—if you don’t have a loyal military, you’re easy prey. The mutineers may be trying for a military coup. The Benignity says it won’t invade right now . . . but why would you believe them? They admit to murdering one head of state; they say they’ve done it before. They tried to take Xavier just a few years ago. I’ll bet they still want it. And the Bloodhorde—”
“They’re just ignorant barbarians,” Brun said. “They’re not a real threat.”
“Tell that to the people who died on Koskiusko,” Esmay said. “Or the people they’ve hit on planets and stations with their piracy. They’re not as serious a threat to the entire Familias as the Benignity, but I wouldn’t call them negligible, either. They could certainly disrupt trade. And if they got hold of some of our front-line ships and weapons—”
“You think like an admiral,” Kevil said. “That’s not a criticism; we need that input too.”
“I was looking up some history, last night,” Esmay said. “All the way back to Old Earth, political entities had to start with security first, and then worry about organization. Even the old kingships, it said.”
“People gather to a government that makes them feel safe?” Brun asked. “That sounds kind of dull.”
Esmay grinned at her. “Which way would you rather get your thrills, in a sport you chose, or in a war?”
“Point taken. So, the Fleet officer—”
“Former officer—”
“And soon to be again. The officer says look to our security first, which means get the mutiny settled.”
“And then—?”
“And then we see what we have to work with. There’s no way to hold all this together by force, even with the full strength of Fleet.”
“If you’re right, Esmay—and I have to say you may be—then we need to get you back in Fleet as fast as possible.”
“I have no idea how a discharged officer gets back in service,” Esmay said.
“Heris Serrano did it,” Brun said.
“With the help of the Serrano family I don’t doubt,” Esmay said drily, “which I don’t have.”
“You have me on your side, that counts for something. I could tackle Admiral Serrano on your behalf.”
Another ally appeared almost as soon as they were back at the Thornbuckle town house. A servant announced, “General Casimir Suiza.” Brun stared at Esmay, and Esmay, stunned, could not speak for a moment. Then she went to the door.
Esmay’s father, out of uniform, looked just as impressive. “Esmaya . . . I hope you’ll let me in . . .”
“I . . . of course.” She opened the door wider. She could feel Brun’s curiosity at her back and quickly introduced them.
“You’ll want to be alone,” Brun said, standing up.
“Not at all,” General Suiza said. “Please stay—at least until I’ve explained why I’m here.”
Brun sat back down, but gave Esmay a glance.
“Yes,” Esmay said. “Please stay.” Her heart was pounding; her mouth felt dry.
“Esmay—I know I’ve failed you in the past, but I couldn’t sit home and see you in trouble again without at least trying to help.”