More people surged forward now, creating a living wall around the besieged Ranger. They had nowhere to go. The Ranger shut down and a door popped open. Raised hands were the first thing to appear as one by one the occupants surrendered.
Then a cheer swept through the assembled people as Mai Uhn Wa appeared, a bit unsteady on his feet, but well enough. He was carried up onto the shoulders of a few larger men, hands all around him grasping, slapping his sides and arms, wanting to touch the man who had sparked the uprising.
Mai Wa was not accepting accolades alone. Students also clambered up the sides of the ConstructionMech, slapping at its metal carapace. They raised fists into the air in celebration. Evan saw Mai Wa reach into the audience, pulling and prodding until Hahn Soom Gui also rode high atop shoulders.
Evan’s relief at seeing his friend in one piece was short lived, however, as Hahn leaned in to clasp warm hands with Mai Wa. Shouts of Liào Su¯ n Zı˘ and Liào Dè Guāng mixed together, loud enough for Evan to hear even over the ’Mech’s engine noise. Then Mai began to order the crowd into small, organized groups, which was when Evan realized, regardless of best intentions or who fired first, the end result was all that mattered. The end result was that Hahn, Evan, and some Republic-fanatic infantrymen had put the full fury of the uprising into Mai Wa’s hands.
Evan had wanted to instill a measure of control over the riot, and he had helped do so.
And were things now better, or worse?
PART TWO
The Marches of Chaos
15
Council of Fear
In a stunning announcement, the world of Styk declared its independence from The Republic of the Sphere. Lord Governor Hidic is calling home Senators Jiu Soon Lah and Tiberius Denton to deal with this latest crisis, hoping that the return of our senior diplomats will bolster his position and help bring Styk back into the fold.
Sovetskaya
Lower Nánlù, Liao
26 June 3134
Lord Governor Marion Hidic’s refuge near Sovetskaya was opulent, well guarded, and, in Viktor Ruskoff’s opinion, a completely inappropriate setting for the high-level meeting.
A roaring fire burned at one end of the study, putting out far too much heat for the medium-size room. Scented logs snapped and popped. A gold, wire-mesh screen saved the thick pile carpet that swept around the hearth like a malachite ocean breaking against redbrick sand. Bookcases framed two sides of the study; history and law on one wall and an impressive set of classics on the other. The Lord Governor had already shown off the prize of his collection, encased under glass and held in a nitrogen atmosphere: a copy of the world charter, granted by the ancient Terran Hegemony and referring to Liao by its original name of Cynthiana.
Interesting, but hardly worth pulling Viktor away from the troubles plaguing modern-day Liao. Not when he had Confederation forces on-planet and a student uprising in control of the Conservatory. His plate was full.
Lord Governor Hidic didn’t mind. He paced the room, promising the head of Styk’s world governor on a platter. Leon Beresk, his staff section chief, looked as if he’d like to do the Governor’s pacing for him, shifting uncomfortably on the overstuffed leather sofa. Even Gerald Tsung looked uneasy. Elbows on his chair’s armrests, Tsung repeatedly tapped his fingers together. Only Knight-Errant Eve Kincaid, recently arrived on Liao and the other professional soldier in the room, exhibited some reserve. She asked intelligent questions, and gave succinct, useful answers when she spoke at all.
Ruskoff stood at the window, avoiding the small group. Outside, snowy drifts piled up near braces of tall evergreen. A venerable Raven BattleMech strutted by with its birdlike gait. The dropping nose, so much like a bird’s beak, contained an impressive sensor package that rivaled anything The Republic produced today. A good, solid Capellan design. Leaving out the fact that Hidic had federalized local troops for his own protection, a move that undercut Ruskoff’s authority, there was no reason other than power politics that demanded this meeting be held in Nánlù and not in Chang-an. He’d debated saying so, then realized that he’d only be telling one other person in the room something they didn’t already know.
Maybe not her either.
“Are you determined not to join us, Viktor?” Hidic had paused for breath, noticed that he did not have the room’s full attention. He took a seat next to his aide.
Ruskoff let the heavily brocaded draperies fall back over the window, shutting out Nánlù’s winter. Crossing the carpeted floor in half a dozen easy strides, he stood at one end of the small congregation with hands clasped behind his back in a semblance of parade rest. He felt no desire to sit. In fact, he felt a subtle push to remain slightly removed from the council. “At your service, Lord Governor.”
Marion Hidic was a square-jawed man of medium height but good build. He wore his conservative suit quite well, with the SuDa University tie tack polished to a golden shine. His family had earned citizenship supporting Devlin Stone’s formation of The Republic. He would likely quote The Republic’s motto on his deathbed: Ad Securitas Per Unitas.
Liberty through unity.
“What I’d like to know,” the Lord Governor asked, “is your impression of Legate Heivilin. Is she likely to have gone over with Governor Lusebrink?”
He spoke of Legate Daria Heivilin, Styk’s senior military official.
“There is no way to say, sir.” He paused, then, “If I were you, I’d hope that Daria was not party to the idea of secession.”
“Why is that?” Gerald Tsung asked. Governor Lu Pohl had sent her aide in her stead, a decision which did not sit well with Hidic. But it was a good question regardless. The Lord Governor backed it with a grunt and a nod.
“Because if Daria supported this move, she did so in such a way to organize it bloodlessly and keep a sound command structure within the local military organization. She will be ready to meet any challenge of force.” Lady Kincaid nodded her agreement.
“What makes you so certain?” Hidic asked.
“That is what I would do.”
Which also did not sit well with the Lord Governor. If Hidic was looking for reassurance, the man had summoned the wrong person to his State-supported retreat.
Leon Beresk sat forward with a creak of leather and old knee joints. His sharp blue eyes promised strength for a man who had only thinning snow on the roof. “Look, Styk will take care of itself. We’ve sent to Terra for Senator Jiu Soon Lah, haven’t we?” He waited for Hidic’s nod, which came short and curt. “Then we wait for her to get back. She may be Decentralist Party, but she’s still Republic. And she’s respected on Styk.”
Tsung shrugged. “That’s Styk. Governor Lu Pohl will want to know what we will do about Liao.”
“That should be our question for her,” Beresk said, then took a sip from his sweating water glass before replacing it on the redwood coffee table. Our seemed to include only himself and the Lord Governor.
Ruskoff rubbed at his jaw, feeling stubble as his afternoon shadow filled in. Politics, he reminded himself, was the art of asking for one thing in order to get another. “What we could use,” he began slowly, “are the Sixth Hastati Sentinels being employed on Gan Singh.”
Eve Kincaid looked him over coolly, her winter blue eyes betraying neither insult nor injury. “Are you implying that we cannot handle the local problem ourselves?” she asked, her voice tightly controlled.