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“And what to do,” Austin finished bitterly. Marta was right. “Elora’s way ahead of us.”

“No one will protest when the Home Guard is sent to seize our companies, because the people think Radick is backing Tortorelli to the hilt. The power of belief that the HPG is up again will drive them to destroy us, unless we use the ’Mechs.”

Austin saw no way out. The MBA could negotiate now, hope that Elora was merciful, or they could send out their ultimate weapons in an attempt to break the Legate’s military power.

Elora would never be lenient.

Everyone lost. Everyone but Elora.

Marta snapped orders and began marshaling her forces and those of the Mirach Business Association. As her attention focused on the immediate needs of protecting her plants and workers from the mobs that were undoubtedly on the way, Austin backed away, then slid the heavy bunker door aside and stepped into the new dawn.

The ruddy sun lifted painfully above the horizon and promised rivers of spilled blood before it set at the end of the day. Austin commandeered the limo and roared off toward Cingulum and his father.

28

Palace of Facets, Cingulum

Mirach

4 May 3133

“Halt!”

For an instant, lost in thought as he was, Austin Ortega didn’t realize the guard meant him. He had lived in the Palace all his life until he moved to the FCL barracks for service with the unit. The situation had changed and Austin had foolishly ignored it in his haste to see his father.

“Austin Ortega, aide to the Governor,” he said, reaching for his ID. Austin was shoved back against a wall and looked down the muzzles of two rifles.

“Keep your hands where we can see them,” the guard said.

“The Governor’s my father. Don’t you recognize me?”

“Get the captain of the guard. We caught him,” the soldier immediately in front of Austin said.

Austin looked around and saw gun emplacements where none had been before just inside the southern entrance to the Palace. Rifle barrels bristled from behind massive carved stone columns, and from the distance came the click-click of heels marching along the marble corridor.

“What’s going on? I demand to see the Governor!” Austin knew his words fell on deaf ears. He only bought time to think. If the captain of the guard had been summoned, that meant he would be frogmarched to a cell away from the Palace. “I—my belly!” Austin screeched, doubling over and clutching his midsection.

As he bent, he got his head away from the rifles for a split second. This gave him the chance to drive forward, burying his shoulder in the gut of the soldier in front of him. The other two tried to cover him, to shoot him. Austin didn’t give them the chance. He knocked one soldier into another, spoiling her aim. Kicking out like a mule, he caught the third guard on the kneecap. Bone crunched like stepped-on plastic and then triggered a loud scream of pain. The confusion of this shriek gave Austin the chance to keep moving, spi

By the time all three soldiers were sprawled on the floor, Austin had a rifle securely in hand. He fired the instant he saw an officer’s insignia rounding a column five meters off. The bullet ripped at the stone and sent sharp fragments flying like angry bees.





The brief, fierce scuffle had drawn the attention of the soldiers in the gun emplacements. They swung their automatic weapons around and opened fire, but Austin was already dodging among the pillars, using the massive limestone columns to protect his back. Even so, the heavy rounds whined past his head and kept him bent over until he reached a low railing. Without breaking stride, Austin vaulted the steel rail and fell almost four meters.

The landing jarred him, but he recovered fast. He had to if he wanted to stay alive. Their insignia indicated that these were Legate Tortorelli’s personal troops, and Austin decided they were under orders from Lady Elora, whether they knew it or not. He cursed his own self-absorption at barging in as he had done. He knew his father wasn’t allowed to communicate with anyone outside the Palace; people trying to contact him would be stopped, too.

The small passage took a right turn into darkness. Austin had come this way many times before, he and Dale having discovered the passage when they were youngsters.

Ru

Austin felt his way through the darkness. He and Dale had left flashlights here years before, but Austin didn’t take the time to hunt for something whose batteries were probably dead. Depending on old memories, he worked steadily beneath the Palace through the maze of tu

A small, lighted rectangle above told him he was close to the exit he wanted. Austin took the stone steps three at a time until he pressed his eye against the panel and looked out into the corridor leading from the conference room to his father’s office. If there had been a secret way into the Governor’s presence, he would have taken it, but he and Dale had never found such a path when there had been all the time in the world to explore. Now Austin felt time crushing him.

A squad of Tortorelli’s soldiers marched past, perfect parade ground troopers all. Clutching the rifle, he made sure a round was chambered, then forced open the ancient latch and stepped into the corridor.

Ten quick steps brought him to the Armorer’s Chamber. He turned grim when he saw all the weapons on display had been ripped from the walls. The office staff was gone. Although it was early, a few should have been on duty.

As elegant as the Palace of Facets was, the Baron was still being held in solitary confinement. Austin worried for a moment that he’d have to break his father out of some prison cell that Tortorelli—Lady Elora—had consigned him to, but the instant he reached the i

The Baron looked up as Austin came in and closed the door.

“You shouldn’t have come, Austin. I told you to stand down.”

“I’m here to get you out, Father.”

“You’re armed,” Sergio said. “Put that down. It’s not going to help.”

“You’ve got to get out of here and establish a government-in-exile. You need to appeal to as many of the Legate’s soldiers’ loyalty to The Republic as possible, split his force, regain some control.”

“Not with force!” This brought Sergio up. His eyes shot sparks as determination was reborn. “You have to learn, Austin. Violence does not accomplish anything.”

“Thinking like that’s got you bottled up and unable to do your job. How can you protect the citizens of Mirach when Elora controls the communications in and out of your office? How can you govern if Tortorelli won’t let you step into the corridor without being surrounded five-deep by his soldiers?”

“You don’t understand,” Sergio said. “I still wield considerable power. I need to be here where I can use it.”

“Use it, then!” cried Austin. “Stop the rioting. They killed Manfred, you know.”

Austin blinked when he saw that his father didn’t react as he had expected. Such news ought to have shocked him into action, into the realization that Tortorelli and Elora were playing for keeps and would destroy friends and family to seize power.