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Harris set the glass back down and stared into its tawny heart. Despite the forced air of festive normality, there was a terrible, singing tension in this room, for the growing fear spawned by Constance's unexpected murder had been fa
They'd been mouse-trapped. Harris made himself admit that. They'd set their plans in motion, confident the game was theirs to direct as it always had been, only to discover that, after fifty years of conquest, they had finally met a foe even more cu
He'd read the dispatches. Given what Admiral Rollins had known, Harris had to agree he'd had no choice but to move against the Hancock System, yet hindsight proved only too clearly that the Manties had known all about the "secret" Argus net. They'd used it to offer Rollins an irresistible bait by "withdrawing" their ships, and the result had been devastating. The arrival of the dreadnoughts which had compelled Admiral Chin to surrender would have been bad enough, but it hadn't been the end. Oh, no. Not the end.
Harris shuddered. The second jaw of the Manty trap had failed by the thi
And then Parks had left one battle squadron to hold Seaford and returned to Hancock... just in time to meet Admiral Coatsworth as he moved in, expecting to find Rollins in possession. At least Coatsworth had gotten most of his ships out, yet his lead squadrons had taken a terrible pounding, and without Seaford's repair facilities, he'd been driven clear back to Barnett with his damaged units while his courier boats reported the disaster to Haven.
Public Information had clamped down a total news blackout, but rumors had leaked. That was one reason Harris had gone ahead with his a
Assuming, of course, that he had a victory to report.
Harris grimaced at his own gloomy thoughts and straightened in his chair. One thing that wouldn't help was for the President to look as if his best friend had just died, and—
His thoughts broke off as the head of his security detachment walked quickly across the room towards him. The security man's expression was neutral, but his body language communicated an entirely different message.
"What is it, Eric?" the President asked quietly.
"I'm not certain, Sir." The security man's New Geneva accent was more pronounced—and anxious—than usual. "Capital Traffic Control's just picked up half a dozen Navy shuttles entering city airspace without prior clearance."
"Without clearance?" Harris pushed his chair back and stood. "Where are they headed? What did they say when Control challenged them?"
"They say they're an unscheduled training mission authorized by Naval Security to test CTC's readiness states, Mr, President."
"A security test?" Harris wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it beside his plate. "Well, I suppose that makes a degree of sense, under the circumstances, but contact Secretary Saint-Just and get InSec to validate."
"We're trying, Sir, but Secretary Saint-Just is away from his com."
"Then screen Undersecretary Singh. Someone must know—"
The Presidential Security Force man stiffened, pressing his hand to his unobtrusive earbug, then paled. His right hand seized the President by the sleeve, and Harris staggered as he was half-flung towards an exit.
"Eric! What the hell—?!"
"Those shuttles just altered course, Mr. President! They're headed straight in our direction, and—"
The PSF man never finished his sentence, for seven assault shuttles of the People's Navy screamed over the People's Palace. Four five-thousand-kilo precision guided warheads scored direct hits on the Presidential Dining Room, and Sidney Harris, his wife, his three children, and his entire cabinet and all of his senior advisors, ceased to exist in a fireball of chemical explosives.
Five seconds later, the Palace itself was little more than flaming rubble strewn across the cratered horror of its once immaculate grounds.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Quorum, I am appalled by the scale of this act of treason." Speaker Robert Stanton Pierre shook his head sadly as he gazed out over the stu
"The fact that Secretary Saint-Just's Internal Security perso
"Mr. Speaker!" A well-fed, beefy back-bencher stood, and Pierre nodded to him.
"The Chair recognizes Mr. Guzman."
"What do you mean 'assume the worst,' Mr. Speaker?"
"I mean that we face the gravest crisis in our history," Pierre said softly. "This attack was launched by Navy perso
"Surely you're not suggesting that senior Navy officers were responsible?!"
"I am suggesting only that until we know who was responsible, we must consider every possibility, however terrible," Pierre replied in a level voice. "I hope with all my heart that I am doing our military perso
"We owe it to the Republic?" someone else asked, without seeking recognition, and Pierre nodded grimly.
"The government has been destroyed, ladies and gentlemen. Secretary Saint-Just and Secretary Bergren are the cabinet's sole survivors, and only Secretary Saint-Just is currently on Haven. He's already informed me that, as no more than Secretary Palmer-Levy's acting successor, he feels neither qualified to nor capable of assuming the burden of government. Which means that we, the people's representatives, have no option but to assume emergency powers until such time as formal government can be reestablished."