Choose your words carefully, because you can’t take them back and who knows what will be made of them later. Sometimes the most innocent of encounters becomes far more than it initially appeared once hindsight rears her fair head.
— Ryland LeSarte, circa 4857
17 Decem, 5249 PD
“This planet is beautiful,” Winston said as he and Brendan walked up the pathway from the beach back toward Nova Spexi proper. “All of the file footage the Colonial Office has in the system doesn’t do it justice at all.”
“When was the last time the Colonial Office sent a survey team here?” Brendan shoved his hands deep into his pockets, watching the inspector carefully. Marshal Rose still had a team trying to crack the encryption on Timrel Winston’s official file, since their previous query through regular channels hadn’t given them anything. Rachel was willing to trust the inspector, but the Marshals—particularly Daci—wanted to verify as well.
“Not all of them are like you, Frederick. We know that they’re corruptible.”
“Sephora picked him herself. She knows what to look for.”
“Not even Sephora Damerian is infallible. I’ll have a look for myself, thank you.”
They were well-matched, those two.
Just about as well-matched as Lindsay and I.
Winston’s voice startled him from his thoughts. “You know what? I don’t think I know. At least fifty or sixty years ago.”
“I’d guess longer ago than that,” Brendan said, shaking his head slightly. “More like a century and maybe more. I don’t know that a survey team’s been here since the Foundation staked its claim and started settlement.”
Winston shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Claims have to be inspected every fifty years to ensure—”
“Not if they’re a perpetual claim.”
“But they—” Winston stopped, staring at Brendan for a long moment. “The Foundation has a perpetual claim to E-557?”
“To the whole system, in fact,” a voice said from behind them. Brendan tensed up, barely suppressing the shudder that wanted to race through him.
What the hell is D’Arcy doing out here this early in the morning? I didn’t know that he even knew what the dawn looked like. “Good morning, D’Arcy,” Brendan said, forcing himself to be as pleasant as possible. What’s he up to this time?
“Good morning, Commander Cho. If you have duties essential to our defense to attend to this morning, I would be happy to play tour guide to our guest.” D’Arcy studied Winston for a moment. “I assume that this is our esteemed visitor from the Inspector General’s office.”
Brendan swallowed a sigh and nodded. “Inspector Winston, this is D’Arcy Morgause, one of the members of the Rose Council. D’Arcy, Inspector Timrel Winston of the Commonwealth Inspector General’s office.”
“I’m honored to meet you, Inspector,” D’Arcy said as he extended his hand to the other man. “It’s not every day we receive visitors from the Commonwealth proper.”
“From what I’ve seen it’s not that often at all—mostly refugees looking for asylum.” Winston smiled briefly as he shook D’Arcy’s hand. “Having seen what this world looks like and the way you people seem to live, I can’t say that I blame any of those refugees coming here, either. It’s amazing.”
D’Arcy gave him a thin smile. “What’s amazing is that there are refugees at all. I had heard that things were improving in Commonwealth space since the last wars ended. Was I mislead?”
Brendan’s stomach dropped. What the hell is he talking about? Things have been getting worse since Mimir fell and that war ended. Who would be telling him—unless he’s playing games. He eyed D’Arcy for a long moment and wondered if maybe he’d underestimated the Council’s spymaster.
“Ah, things are better than they used to be, that’s for certain,” Winston said carefully. “But I wouldn’t say they’ve improved wholesale, not from my perspective. There are efforts to go even further with the reforms that began thirty years ago, but the politicos that are spearheading those efforts are running into some significant resistance these days.” Winston stole a glance at Brendan, one brow arching slightly.
Brendan shook his head slightly, struggling to keep his expression impassive. He couldn’t very well stop D’Arcy from talking to the inspector if he wanted to. The man was a member of the Rose Council and had every right to speak to Winston—as long as Winston wanted to continue the conversation.
Dammit, why didn’t Marshal Windsor give me orders to keep Winston the hell away from D’Arcy?
He had to smother a smile. Probably because they want to see if Winston’s got the same calibration on his bullshit meter that we do.
“That’s unfortunate,” D’Arcy was saying. “We were hoping to be able to send some representatives to Parliament in the future, but it seems like the political climate might be unfavorable.”
Brendan frowned. “When was that brought up in Council?” he asked. Lindsay would have mentioned that. That’s not the kind of thing that’s brought up and then vanishes from the conversation as quickly as it rises. He crossed his arms. He’s up to something. First backing down when Rachel was put forward for Speaker, now this. He’s up to something and it’s probably not good. I just wish I knew what it was.
D’Arcy dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s been our hope as an organization for some time that our image as isolationist could be somewhat improved. We are, after all, trying to set an example for how human society can exist in harmony with the planets that house us rather than simply exploit them—and ourselves—to death.”
Winston snorted humorlessly. “I doubt that approach would earn you many friends in government these days, Councilor Morgause. The question these days is how to feed everyone without bankrupting corporate structures and how to manipulate the tax codes to benefit the largest congloms, not sunshine and rainbows and how to save our planets.”
Winston caught Brendan’s gaze with the corner of his eye. The Inspector was starting to look vaguely uncomfortable, though he schooled his expression into one of careful, vaguely disinterested but polite curiosity. “Who are your contacts back home these days, Councilor? I can’t imagine that cultivating resources like that would be very easy, considering how far out you are and how rarely people from the colony leave to go traveling the Commonwealth, especially given the apparent hostility some of the congloms feel toward you people.”
“Oh, just some old school friends,” D’Arcy said with a faint smile. “I was educated on New Earth, at Rigel University. Senator Milligan was still teaching there at the time and he took me under his wing. We still correspond regularly. His daughter is hoping to visit soon.”
Brendan stared at D’Arcy. The way he talked about the senator’s daughter visiting tripped a synapse in his brain that sent alarm bells echoing through his skull but didn’t quite trigger anything else—though he did catch the barest fleeting glimpse of a slender woman with black hair and a big smile hanging on D’Arcy’s arm. “It sounds like you’re very much looking forward to that eventuality, D’Arcy,” he said, trying to keep his tone even.
D’Arcy smiled broadly. “Oh, I am, Commander Cho. Believe me, I am. I would welcome the opportunity to show more citizens of the Commonwealth how well we’re doing here. It can only help us with the troubles that we’re facing, don’t you think?” His gaze flicked toward Winston. “Don’t you think so, too, Inspector?”
“If you’re talking about the external threats the Foundation and the colony are currently facing from unknown entities, you could be correct. Swaying public opinion in your favor could help.” Winston paused, clearly choosing his words carefully before he continued. “But at the same time, considering how unknown and possibly widespread the threat to you may be, it could be that all your efforts will do is fuel the fire of resentment, and we all know where that leads.”
“Violence, hate, and war,” Brendan said softly.
The inspector nodded. “Exactly. I would tread lightly, Councilor. These are dangerous times, as we’re learning more and more each day. One misstep could spell a lot of trouble for more than just the Foundation—violent trouble and worse.” He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled softly. “Welcome to the flashpoint,” he murmured, as if he was momentarily unaware that he wasn’t alone.
Brendan touched his arm. “Inspector, I believe we were headed up to the base so you could see the CAP launch?”
Winston opened his eyes and smiled. “We were, weren’t we? And then perhaps you could show me a decent place to get some breakfast?”
Brendan nodded. “I’d be more than happy to do that.” He glanced toward D’Arcy. “Have a pleasant morning, D’Arcy.”
The smile that D’Arcy gave him was razor blades and ice. “You as well, Commander. My best to your wife.”
The way he said it made Brendan shiver. His feeling of unease didn’t go away until he and Winston were halfway to base and D’Arcy had long ago passed from his sight.