Jonah sighed inaudibly. Why doesn’t he just come out and ask the question he has undoubtedly been thinking about since I first called, Jonah asked himself.
“But he, in his wisdom, bequeathed sole responsibility in the manner to the Paladins of the Sphere, people who ascended to their lofty position by virtue of their honor, honesty and incorruptibility.”
Ask the question! Jonah yelled in his head.
“However, it is abundantly clear that Stone intended his Paladins to be people of wisdom, and it is equally clear that Stone believed a major portion of wisdom to be the ability to hear and receive counsel. And we must not forget that he intentionally allowed only those of noble blood into the Senate, filling that body with individuals whose families have vast experience in matters of government.”
Here it comes, Jonah said. Either the question, or an hour-long lecture on the role of counselors in Devlin Stone’s life.
“While I’m sure you’re not surprised to know I have some thoughts on the upcoming election, it would be quite out of turn if I shared my ideas without knowing where you stand in the matter. I was wondering, then, if, given our extensive history, you would be willing to share your thoughts on who will receive your vote in the coming election.”
Finally! Jonah hoped the Senator could not hear the rush of air escaping his lungs. Since Mallowes had given him plenty of time to prepare a response, he answered quickly.
“I’ve thought about it a lot, but I haven’t come to a final decision yet. I don’t think it would be proper for me to name names until I’ve made up my mind. I wouldn’t want the others talking about me like that, so I won’t do it to them.”
Mallowes smiled, though his exposed teeth seemed a bit clenched. “I cannot begin to tell you what a pleasure it is to talk with one who gives such a prominent consideration to honor as do you. It was a trait that greatly impressed me when we first met.”
Jonah remembered the Senator seeming more confused than impressed at that meeting, but he felt it best not to point that out.
Mallowes, still on his feet, paced around his desk and stood over Jonah, trying to make Jonah crane his neck upward. Instead, Jonah smoothly rose to stand next to him, and Mallowes was forced to raise his eyes to look into the face of the Paladin.
“Let us not name names, then,” Mallowes said, his voice little more than a raspy whisper. “Let us talk about what should be at the core of all elections—ideas.”
“What ideas did you have in mind?”
“Strength. Sovereignty. Tradition.”
Jonah had heard these words many times in recent weeks, so he filled in the last one for Mallowes. “Vision.”
Mallowes snapped his fingers. “Precisely! These are difficult times, Paladin Levin. We need an Exarch willing to make hard choices.”
“We always do.”
“Yes, yes, we always have the need, but the choices keep being deferred. Compromise. Negotiation. Appeasement. These are tools of delay, not true decisions. We need an Exarch who will finally confront our enemies squarely, deal with them in the only way they understand.”
“They don’t understand peace?”
Mallowes snorted. “Look at our borders and ask me that question again.”
“Senator Mallowes, do you remember when we met after the fight on Kurragin?”
Mallowes smiled warmly, though it seemed more a reflex than an indication of real feeling. “Of course.”
“Do you remember the orders I followed on the battlefield?”
“Yes. You were to hold your line.”
“And I did. There are many things I’m not good at, Senator, but I’ve always known how to hold a line. When the election comes, that’s what I’ll be thinking about.”
Mallowes nodded approvingly. “Good, good. But how do you know which is the proper line to hold?”
“My job is to know.”
“The job of your entire council is to know. But some of them don’t.” Mallowes paused, and something flickered behind his eyes. Caution? Annoyance? Jonah couldn’t be sure.
Then Mallowes spoke again. “Victor Steiner-Davion did not know.”
Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“Please, make no mistake—I greatly admired the man for all he accomplished in his many years. Unfortunately, he believed that life, in the person of his sister, had taught him the importance of governing with a light hand, of erring on the side of indulgence instead of caution.”
“I believe Victor preferred the term ‘freedom’ to ‘indulgence,’” Jonah said darkly.
“Quite so. But you see, he took the wrong lesson. The problems he had with his sister, the disaster of the Civil War, were not caused by her grip being too tight. They were caused by his being too loose. We must never forget that his laxity practically handed power to her. He was the cause of his own misfortune.
“The Republic cannot afford to make similar mistakes at this time,” Mallowes continued. “We cannot let threats build while we turn our heads. Now is the time for strength. Victor’s fate is evidence of what happens to those who are not strong.”
Anger and suspicion flared in Jonah. “‘Evidence of what happens’?” he said heatedly. “Are you saying Victor’s death was tied to this?”
Mallowes raised his hands placatingly. “No, no, not his death. I have no idea what caused that. The war, my friend. I meant the Civil War.” He shook his head. “I see your temper has not mellowed with age.”
Jonah willed himself calm, forcing his fists to unclench. “I… apologize. I thought you were insinuating something else.”
“No apology necessary. You may be assured that, to a degree, I understand the stress weighing upon you. All of us in government feel it.” Mallowes placed a hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “All the more reason we must show strength. Now.”
34
Counterinsurgency Task Force
Temporary Headquarters, Geneva
Terra, Prefecture X
13 December 3134
Heather had three lists. One named Paladins she was all but certain had nothing to do with the Kittery Renaissance; these were people she did not need to bother speaking with. The second named those of her colleagues who had expressed sympathy with the Founder’s Movement. The third listed Paladins she considered entirely trustworthy and well informed. That list had two names, and since Jonah Levin was otherwise occupied, she started her interviews with Otto Mandela.
He’d better know something, she thought. She was quickly running out of time before the election.
She strode quickly down the hallway, and Duncan, a full six inches shorter than she, struggled to keep up. He refused to stop talking.
“Two members of the Clutch of the Confederacy are in custody, but the police aren’t sure the charges are going to stick. Stone’s Loyalists broke up a march by ’Mechs Into Plowshares, and spotters believe members of Stone’s Vow were working with the Loyalists.”
Heather stopped and whirled, giving a grateful Duncan a chance to keep up. “Have the police and militia been notified of all this?”
“Yes, Paladin.”
“Are they taking care of these situations?”
“Yes, Paladin.”
“Then why do you keep telling me about them?”
“I was tasked to keep you informed,” Duncan said promptly.
Heather sighed and turned back toward Mandela’s office. She didn’t have time to hash this out with Duncan at the moment.
Just outside Mandela’s office, Duncan spoke again. “Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Do you really think that one of the Paladins—one of the other Paladins, I mean—might be supporting the Kittery Renaissance?”