channels?”
“I would think so, Madam CEO. Should I contact the CEO with responsibilities for that area?”
Which would be Drakon, of course. “No. Not yet. I’m shocked to hear of this, but I can’t confront anyone else when I know so little. Contact CEO Hardrad and tell him that I need to know what this is about so I can take any necessary action.”
The screen blanked and Iceni glanced at Akiri. “Have you seen those orders?”
He nodded. “CEO Kolani forwarded them to all ships. We received our copy a few minutes ago. All mobile forces in this star system are to proceed to Prime Star System to operate under direct control of the supreme council of the Syndicate Worlds. I’m surprised that you were able to hold up a command directive like that in the communications system without alerting anyone.”
“It’s not easy.” Had someone in Drakon’s camp let the message out? Had Drakon done it? If he planned on betraying her, he would regret it. She hadn’t been bluffing about that. “Did CEO Kolani also give you movement orders when she forwarded the message to you?”
“No, Madam CEO. We’re supposed to prepare for departure, but that’s all we’ve been told.”
Iceni smiled, willing herself into calmness. “CEO Kolani doubtless wants to hang around here to watch me get hauled into ISS headquarters and torn into very little pieces.” She checked the time. “In a few minutes things will begin happening on the surface.”
Another chime on her private channel, the notes different this time, and given an ominous aspect from knowing whose call they announced. Iceni took an extra moment to compose herself, then answered again, this time seeing the deceptively bland features of the head of the Internal Security Service forces in this star system. “CEO Hardrad, I’m glad you called. What’s this about some orders being held up?”
Iceni had never thought that Hardrad looked the part of a snake, which might have helped his rise through their ranks. Bland-featured, his hair, skin, and clothing all shades of beige, Hardrad seemed even after detailed study to be a perfect colorless bureaucrat. Even his eyes rarely revealed anything but mild disinterest. Iceni, who had studied not only Hardrad’s looks but also his career, had not been fooled by the outer ordinariness of the man. Judging by his actions, inside he was a very ruthless snake indeed. Now Hardrad pursed his lips in the mildest of reactions to Iceni’s question. “A command directive from Prime, Gwen,” he said.
“I should have seen that,” Iceni protested. “I am responsible for the overall defense of this star system. Why didn’t I see it?”
“It was directed to CEO Kolani.” Iceni hadn’t expected Hardrad to appear tense, but it was still unnerving to see him regard her as if she were a piece in a game with an ending that was foreordained. “Why are you in orbit?” he asked her.
“As senior CEO in this star system, I’m responsible for all Syndicate Worlds’ assets.” Iceni waved one negligent hand around to indicate the ship. “I’m conducting an inspection.”
“No inspection was on your schedule.”
“I prefer surprises,” Iceni said. “You accomplish more that way.”
“That is true,” Hardrad agreed. A lesser man would have betrayed some feeling then, some darkly humorous acknowledgment that they were both speaking primarily about the ISS and its tactics. But not Hardrad. His expression didn’t even flicker. “However, your inspection will have to take place on another day. I need to see you in person. Right away.”
She put on her best expression of affronted dignity. “Because CEO Kolani, who commands the most deadly forces in this star system, is accusing
me
of doing something which is probably the fault of her own communications staff? I don’t control military communications.”
“No. You don’t. We need to talk about who does. You understand?”
So Hardrad suspected Drakon? That was