Canada, Terra
Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony
3 September 2775
The inside of the Imperial Palace had taken some incidental damage - the floor covered by dust and fragments of the plaster moulding from the ceiling.
Apparently undeterred by this, a formally dressed man bowed to Aleksandr Kerensky as the general marched in through the front doors, a platoon of infantry behind him. “General Kerensky. The Emperor awaits you in the morning room.” A nod of his head indicated one of the doors.
“He is emperor of nothing,” Kerensky responded and jerked his head to the soldiers. Two of them seized the butler and hauled him aside.
Another pair of infantrymen threw open the indicated door and checked the room beyond. One of them turned back towards the general. “He’s here, sir. Should we…?”
“No. I will speak with him.”
The room faced to the east, light streaming through the windows and onto Stefan Amaris who sat in a chair styled very much like a throne.
“General Kerensky. It is quite some time since I summoned you from the Periphery.”
“I don’t come at your command, Amaris.”
“No, I suppose not. A trifle late for me to appoint you as my commanding general, even if the post just fell open.”
Kerensky was about to bark in anger at the man but instead he simply looked at him. Amaris had put on weight since they last met each other. His eyes were puffy and despite the sang froid he projected, there was no energy to him. “Was it worth it, Amaris?”
The fat man rose to his feet and crossed to look out of the windows. “You tell me, general. If you had joined me then perhaps we could have saved the Star League together. As it is…” He shrugged. “History will condemn me but everything I did was to fulfil the promise of the Star League.”
“You murdered the First Lord. You tried to eradicate House Cameron and targeted even the families of my soldiers.”
“How many of my family have you killed, Kerensky? How long have the people of the Periphery been treated as conquered vassals by the Star League even those of us who welcomed you.”
Kerensky crossed the room with quick strides, seized the usurper by the shoulder and spun him around. “If you really cared for a better, fairer Star League then your first message to me would not have been an order to crush your co-conspirators in the other territorial states. You grasped for power, nothing more. And you have failed.”
“Your armies are in retreat, your fleet has been smashed. Those worlds that remain to be liberated will surrender or face the same fate as those here on Terra. House Cameron endures and the Star League will emerge stronger than ever.” He pushed the fat man towards the door.
Stefan Amaris allowed himself to be manhandled without protest. “Oh, Alek, you’re so naïve,” he murmured, voice so low. “I told you that only together could we save the Star League. You may place your faith in John Davion but you will find him a poor substitute for my genius.”
The general pushed him out into the hands of waiting soldiers. “If the Star League needed you to save it, then it wouldn’t deserve to be saved,” he said with conviction.
.o0O0o.
Unity City, Terra
Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony
10 September 2775
A sequence of jumpships had ferried John Davion’s personal dropship from New Avalon’s star system to Terra’s in less than twenty-four. Travelling between the in system jump points and the planets had taken up another couple of days but even so he’d overtaken Helena Cameron and Keith Cameron, both still aboard warships that would require multiple jumps to reach Terra. He’d used the brief transit from the jump point to Terra’s surface to sleep – impossible while the repeated jumps took place – so he felt somewhat human again as the ship landed.
“I see you didn’t have to storm the city,” he greeted Kerensky at the drop-port. “I was worried about that.”
“Yes, although there are fewer civilians than there were last time I was here. We’re downstream from Mount Baker and it’ll be years before the water coming down from there is safe.”
John nodded, glancing up at the mountain that had housed the Court of the Star League’s primary defences until Amaris lost patience with the SLDF holdouts fighting and nuked the surface facilities of Fort Cameron. The mountain seemed literally defaced in comparison to his memories. “It’ll be a long time before what was done here can be forgotten.”
“If it ever should be.”
“I see no reason, that gunpowder treason…” he murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
He shrugged. “Part of my cultural heritage, not yours.”
“What’s the next bit?”
“Should ever be forgot. Why?”
“It’s a catchy turn of phrase. I foresee many speeches in my immediate future. Do you think anyone would mind if I adapted it?”
“Well it’s about, hmm, eleven hundred years old. I doubt it’s still copyrighted anywhere,” John observed as they entered the waiting military helicopter. The door sealed hermetically and the Vector leapt into the air. There wasn’t much of a view but at least the compartment was configured with eight comfortable seats rather than benches to accommodate a platoon of light infantry. “Where did you find this? I didn’t think Jerricho were building anything but barebones transport versions so far.”
“They aren’t. This was the personal transportation of General Scoffins,” Kerensky explained, turning his seat to look at John. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“I assume it’s something that can’t wait for the Council meeting in three weeks.”
Hanse had commandeered one of the empty seats. “Amaris or something he did,” he guessed.
“There are a few matters I’d like to have in place before the Star League Council takes their seats,” the general told him. “Mainly SLDF matters.”
“Mainly?”
“If you don’t mind waiting, there are some others who’ll be present.”
“Of course not.” John leant back in his chair. “Your family are doing well, I hope?”
“Reasonably. It’s an adjustment for them. Speaking of which…” The older man gave him a sour look. “I’d prefer not to spread word of them around. There are almost certainly still Amaris loyalists…”
“And various others who might want to cause you harm indirectly. It’s not information I’ve been actively sharing, although I doubt it can remain hidden forever.”
“Nothing remains secret forever. It’s hard enough for them to have a father they barely knew of for ten years though. If I can keep the media away until at least Nicholas is old enough for an academy slot…”
John nodded in understanding and saw Hanse had a troubled expression. “I gather they’re both bright boys.”
“Yes. Much like your nephew Mark. And I take it you may expect grandchildren soon.”
“Not very soon, I think, but Joshua and Mary do have some weight of… dynastic responsibility there. I leave reminding them of that to my wife.”
Kerensky’s laugh was a short bark and then the Vector was descending and both men gripped their seats in reflex. Fortunately it was no more than arrival at their destination and when the ramp dropped, John saw that they’d landed in one of the many plazas of the city, outside a Bureau of Star League Affairs building.
“Without the need to govern the entire Star League, Amaris reassigned the original inhabitants,” the general told him as they hastened up the steps to the door, the first drizzle of rain coming down. Two uniformed and armed guards were waiting, a third opening the door for them. Lacking the Citadel, this’ll be the SLDF presence at Court for the immediate future.”
A lift took them to one of the upper floors and a moment later the pair of them entered a large conference suite. The lush carpet and wall panelling set it apart from the austere marble (or mirror-polished concrete) the SLDF usually preferred for their facilities but John thought it might make a pleasant change.
Awaiting them at the table were almost two dozen faces, many of them familiar. Army commanders and departmental heads. Men and women who John had thought would be on New Earth or spread across the Hegemony and beyond. “I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting,” he said lightly.
“I was only a half hour before you,” General Helmick replied mildly. “Although I did have to come just a little further.”
Aaron DeChevilier shook John’s hand and ushered him to a seat. “We need to make some decisions about SLDF deployments for the near future and a few other policy measures.”
John nodded in understanding. He was here in his capacity as Second Army’s commander then – although if they’d at least let him know that then he could have worn the right uniform. Possibly there had been some subtle hint in the summons he hadn’t picked up. He was still an outsider in some ways he thought. “I’d think a lot of the infantry and engineering units will be working on reconstruction for the immediate future.”
“We’ll come to that in a moment.” Kerensky took his own seat and opened a paper file in front of him. “First of all, we have a report from the forensic team in the Court.”
“The Court?” Helmick asked. “I may have missed something.”
“It seems that Amaris’ burial arrangements for the Camerons amounted to locking the door of the room he massacred them in,” DeChevilier said flatly. “Dozens of them were just left to rot on the floor of the throne room where they fell.”
“He cares nothing for anyone but himself,” Jack Lucas said flatly as the faces of those present who weren’t already aware reflected horror and disgust. “Everything and everyone, from his family to the faiths of the people of the Hegemony were simply ways to gratify himself.”
“The remains are sufficient for us to identify the majority of those present with a high degree of confidence.” Kerensky didn’t even have to look at the papers in front of him. “Death certificates of those confirmed as dead have been filed. The list includes Amanda Cameron, her mother Elise and Richard’s eldest sister Elizabeth Cameron. The succession of House Cameron therefore passes to Helena Cameron. The next unidentified Cameron in succession is Jason Cameron-Bashina who was tenth in line, however there is reasonable cause to believe he was present for the massacre and among the bodies not currently verified. Absent evidence to the contrary, this would leave Keith Cameron as the next in line after Helena.”
“He’s at least interested in what we’re doing. More so than Richard.” McGuinness leant forwards and looked down the table to John. “What about Helena? You rushed her off to the Federated Suns for almost a year and almost none of us have seen anything of her since before the Coup.”
“She’s made a reasonable start at resuming a public life dealing with Hegemony refugees in the Federated Suns,” he reported. “How she’ll deal with the weight of leadership I couldn’t say – she’s had very little opportunity to exercise it. I’d say on the whole that she’s a fairly sensible young woman with laudably little interest in personal power, so perhaps no great inclination to abuse it.”
“Not exactly the things a great leader is made of.”
“Richard Cameron believed he was a great leader,” Lucas shot back. “Someone with more humility would be a step in the right direction.”
“The point is moot. Helena Cameron will be inaugurated as Director-General and First Lord next month,” Kerensky dictated. “We will offer her our full support, is that understood?”
No one seemed willing to contest his glare.
Closing the folder, Kerensky opened the second. “The next question is the disposition of Stefan Amaris and his family. With respect to General Davion, I prefer not to leave the matter until the Star League Council assemble.”
“I quite agree. Presenting them with a fait accompli is preferable,” John said.
Hanse walked over behind Kerensky. “I’m surprised he’s still alive. Kerensky killed him within a day of finding the Camerons.”
“Amaris’ senior officers and officials will be facing war crimes tribunals as soon as the civilian government is sufficiently reconstituted. It has been suggested that Amaris and his family should face the consequences of their actions without waiting for this.” Kerensky steepled his fingers. “Your opinions?”
“Old testament justice.” Unsurprisingly that came from Lucas. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”
“The Usurper and those who held posts, yes,” Tatjana said thoughtfully. “There are children though. Some hadn’t been born when the coup took place.”
“Many of the Camerons killed were also children,” argued DeChevilier. “The law of war is enforced by reprisal. As the Camerons were killed, so too should House Amaris end. Humanely if possible, but it must be done.”
John cupped his chin in thought as the officers debated.
“No one protested Amaris’ death or that of his family,” Hanse advised solemnly. “A few former Republic worlds don’t hold Kerensky in great respect but even there Stefan Amaris’ name is mud.”
Maybe, John thought. But there were no descendants left to try to argue in favour of their House. If some are left…
“If we spare them now, we’re just forestalling the inevitable,” General Chudzik said reluctantly. “I believe that when their descent became known, the children would likely be lynched, such is the infamy of their family now.”
“Could we smuggle them away? Give them a fresh start in orphanages under false names?” Baptiste gave John a hopeful look.
“Where would you draw the line? Teenagers? Elementary school children? Or only spare the ones too young to recognise their own family name?” he asked drily. “It’s hard to expect discretion from children.”
“The situation in the Rim Worlds remains… tumultuous. I do not believe it is definite that House Amaris, were some to be spared, could not someday return to power,” Kerensky said reluctantly. “I cannot allow a situation where that would take place.”
Hanse opened his mouth and then shut it as John gave him a quick glare. Lucas seemed to be the only one who caught the look and his brow furrowed in thought.
“The only way I can see for you to avoid that, General, is for every Amaris old enough to know their own name to be killed and any spared should be reported as executed. Are there even any children among them who aren’t old enough to speak?”
“Two of his grand-children,” Baptiste said quietly.
Kerensky looked around the table. “Very well. I shall give the order.”
“Let us at least meet with the forms of the law,” John proposed. “The SLDF is acting as the government of the Hegemony for now. Draw up a warrant of execution for House Amaris and we should all sign it.”
“It is my responsibility, General Davion.”
“Respectfully, General Kerensky, that’s your messiah complex speaking. And my wife tells me I should be an expert in those. If you choose to spare the younger children then take responsibility for their lives, don’t claim it for deaths that no one here has spoken against.”
Kerensky stared at John for a moment and then looked around the table. Seeing agreement he opened a keyboard and typed for a minute. A printer spat out a single sheet of paper and there was a brief scramble for pens, not everyone having expected to need one. John wound up sharing his, having long since learned to carry two just in case.
When the paper reached him, John read its contents quickly.
We, the undersigned, constituting the highest members of the military provisional government of the Terran Hegemony as of this date (September 10, 2775), do hereby condemn to death Stefan Ukris Amaris, his family and all members of House Amaris under the laws of war on charges of conspiracy, high treason and regicide. Sentencing is to be carried out at the discretion of the Commanding General of the SLDF.
He added his name to those already there and passed the document and pen to the next recipient.
A measure of tension seemed to leave the room as the document was returned to Kerensky, who folded it once and tucked it away.
“Sort out the burial arrangements,” Hanse advised quietly.
“It occurs to me that any burial site could be contentious, but the lack of a body could be taken as evidence that the Usurper’s execution wasn’t genuine,” John advised. “May I recommend that while the rest of his family’s remains are disposed of discreetly, Amaris’ own remains be donated to a medical school – the Nagelring perhaps? House Steiner have no grounds to ever support a resurgent House Amaris and there’s nothing glamorous about a cadaver.”
.o0O0o.
Unity City, Terra
Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony
1 October 2775
It had been nine years since the Star League Council had assembled and they’d all aged. Takiro Kurita, of course, was no longer present but there was no real disruption in Minoru’s presence - he’d deputised for his father more than once.
It occurred to John that he’d been part of the council longer for more than half his life now – longer than almost all of them, although both Robert Steiner and Minoru Kurita were more than a decade older. Kenyon and Barbara were in their forties now, making Helena the youngest by a good measure.
Eight seats were occupied at the great curved table. Nicoletta Calderon sat shamelessly besides Minoru Kurita and while David Avellar hadn’t arrived himself, he’d appointed a representative. John had feared that it would be Allyce, but instead the young President had sent his uncle Simpson. Which was ironic, to say the least. The man spent at least half his time looking nervously at the SLDF guards, as if expecting them to suddenly place him under arrest.
“As Director-General and First Lord I call this meeting to order,” Helena said softly.
“I object.” Minoru Kurita rose to his feet abruptly.
“Well that didn’t last long,” Hanse told John.
“First door on the left,” Nicoletta instructed the Coordinator, looking entirely too smug. “But you really should have gone before the meeting.”
Minoru turned his glare upon the only slightly younger Taurian for a moment before returning his gaze to Helena. “You have not been confirmed as either Director-General or as First Lord,” he chastised her. “It’s presumptuous for you to expect us to yield to you.”
The young Cameron didn’t – to John’s relief – stammer or apologise. “I shall defer to the senior member of the Council to call us to order if it makes you happier, Lord Kurita,” she responded politely.
“As you do in all cases I suppose,” he said with a glance at John.
“Lady Calderon, if you would be so good?” Robert Steiner said slyly.
The sneer on Minoru’s face froze and he gave the Lyran a disbelieving look. With an excellent view of this John had to refrain from laughing and Hanse wasn’t so discreet. “That would be correct,” he conceded mildly. “Lady Calderon has been a member of the council for longer than anyone else here. In fact, longer than any two of us combined.”
“Since you were barely out of diapers, Lord Davion,” Nicoletta responded tartly. “Very well, I call the Council to order. Since Lord Kurita is on his feet shall we begin by recognising his accession as the representative of the Draconis Combine?”
“As long as no one expects the usual moment of silence,” Kenyon Marik added. “It’s been eight years since we lost Takiro and Richard. I expect any grief has run its course by now.”
“We do not always share the… hot feelings for our fathers that lay between you and Ewan Marik,” Minoru growled.
Robert laughed shortly. “Which didn’t mean we were fond of Ewan himself. Sit down, Lord Kurita.”
Barbara Liao gave Nicoletta an appealing look and when all she got was an amused look she cleared her throat. “Does anyone wish to object to Lord Kurita? No?” As no one else spoke up in her brief pause she bowed her head slightly. “Welcome to the Star League Council, Lord Minoru.”
The Coordinator bowed stiffly. “Madame Chancellor.”
“Now, if we can similarly affirm Lady Cameron then I can hand off the already tedious obligations of seniority.”
“I object,” Minoru said again, although at least he remained seated this time.
John rubbed his forehead. “Really?”
“You may wish your puppet on the throne of the Star League, Lord Davion, but the rest of us are less sanguine. How do we know she is the real Helena Cameron?”
“There was a blood test -” Helena began, only to be cut off.
“A simple medical test can establish that,” Robert Steiner answered. “It has probably already been done unless General Kerensky has been tardy in his obligations again. But she did spend several months on New Avalon, how can we be sure she is acting of her own accord?”
“Just what are you accusing me of?” demanded John, trying to keep his voice level.
“No one is making any accusations,” Kenyon Marik said coldly. “Merely considering all possibilities, as we should. Independent medical examination can presumably verify Lady Cameron’s identity – which I do not personally doubt – and ensure she’s acting of her own free will.”
Helena shook her head. “All of which can be readily arranged, Lord Marik.”
“More pressingly,” the Captain-General continued, “There is the matter that no public vote has been held to affirm her position as Director-General, which is in fact the law of the Terran Hegemony. I accept that Lady Cameron – once verified in her identity and fundamental competence – should act as temporary Director-General. Anything more must await her formal election.”
Barbara looked to her right at the rigid face of Helena and then to her left, past Robert Steiner at John. “I should imagine that General Kerensky has arranged any medical tests necessary. Shall we call him in to confirm this, at which point with our membership at least provisionally complete we can move on to other matters?”
“Why not? We’ll want to hear from him on other matters,” agreed Robert.
“Do I hear any objection?” Nicoletta asked mildly. When not even Kenyon demurred, the Protector turned to one of the guards flanking the door. “Do be a good boy and fetch the Commanding General. I’m sure he’s somewhere nearby.”
The guard stiffened at the disrespectful tone but he also activated the radio in his helmet and tersely relayed: “The Star League Council requests the presence of the Commanding General.”
“Orders,” Kenyon corrected. “Not requests.”
The guard stared at him in mute defiance and then touched the side of his helmet. “General Kerensky will be here directly.”
Less than a minute later the double doors opened and Kerensky marched in. “First Lord, honoured Council members.”
“A little premature there,” Minoru murmured. “General, perhaps you can lay some concerns to rest. Has it been established that this is in fact Helena Cameron?”
Kerensky scanned the room, eyes notably harder as he looked at Nicoletta and at Simpson. “Forensic evidence has confirmed her identity with respect to both her parents and her siblings, yes.”
“And,” Robert leaned forwards. “Have checks been done to ensure that she isn’t under chemical or other means of compulsion?”
“That is a little out of the ordinary as a requirement,” Kerensky replied. “At least two past members of the Council were routinely too intoxicated to be considered in a fit state to operate motor vehicles, much less the machinery of state. However, full medical examinations have been carried out by the SLDF for both surviving members of House Cameron and they’ve been judged to be in full possession of their mental faculties.”
The reference visibly stung Kenyon Marik, although Minoru Kurita shrugged off the reminder of a violent encounter one hundred and seventy-one years before when one of Kerensky’s own ancestors had been stabbed to death protecting Nicholas Cameron from a drunken Leonard Kurita in this very chamber. “Thank you, general. Your word on the matter is quite satisfactory, which leaves only the question of public election for Lady Cameron.”
“That can be arranged, Coordinator.” Helena’s voice was surprisingly firm. “I will arrange for an election to be held concurrently with the Congressional elections in January. The people of the Hegemony will have their say then, between myself, my cousin and whoever else may be put forwards. Until time however, I’ll exercise the full authority of my office. Is that clear?”
Kerensky clenched his teeth. “There is precedent for waiving an election in the needs of a crisis. Ian Cameron did so when faced by the September Revolt in 2549.”
“Thank you, General,” she told him. “However I am electing not to exercise that option. House Cameron’s credibility has already been damaged in recent decades. I will not rule as a tyrant.”
“I believe we can manage without a formal First Lord for a few months,” Robert added. “We have for the last nine years, after all.”
“I’m sure you’ve managed very well, Archon,” John observed. “How far has your realm’s GDP dropped since ’67? Ten points? Fifteen?”
“That’s beside the point.” The Archon made a dismissive gesture. “In any case, we have other matters to deal with.”
“Very true,” Kerensky rumbled from where he stood between the tables.
“Indeed.” Steiner steepled his fingers on the table. “I move that General Aleksandr Kerensky be removed from his position as Commanding General of the SLDF, effective immediately.”
Later John would ascribe Hanse’s warnings – and the ghost’s cry of “Don’t do it!” – as the only reason he didn’t throttle Robert on the spot. He was sure neither of the guards would have stopped him.
Instead he simply slammed the flat of his hand against table. “On. What. Grounds?” His voice was low and angry, cutting across the room.
“I would think that it was obvious.” Marik gave him a triumphant smile. “More than ten years ago we charged the General to subdue the rebellious Periphery. Can you see what a wonderful job he has done? Five states of the Star League are in shambles, the army and navy he has been entrusted with are a shadow of their former selves and an upstart from the far reaches of space actually lorded it over Terra for the better part of a decade.” He began to clap slowly. “Bravo, general. Bravo. Whatever will you do next?”
“Spoken like someone who has never gone to war,” John snapped.
“I disagree with Lord Marik.” Minoru Kurita stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “But only in part. I recall that the good General protested the admission of Rim Worlds soldiers to the Hegemony, which was indeed wise of him. However, his response to the crisis was… insufficient. What was called for was a rapid and decisive strike at the core of the problem. Instead General Kerensky has dragged his feet while Terra and many of her oldest and most populated worlds suffered under the heel of the Usurper.”
“I very much agree,” Robert nodded. “Too much time empire building in the Periphery and not enough attention to the Star League’s central affairs. But that was a pattern during your regency, wasn’t it, General? Had you paid more attention to young Richard then this entire matter might have been avoided.”
“I offered then to resign my military duties,” Kerensky pointed out drily. “Your father – the fathers of most of you in fact – refused to allow me.”
“A mistake we can now make good.” Kenyon Marik lifted his water glass and raised it in ironic salute to Robert. “The Archon has proposed the measure and I second it. Lady Calderon, call the vote.”
Nicoletta nodded. “I’m so sorry, general,” she said insincerely. “On the question of relieving General Kerensky of his post, an aye vote is for his dismissal and a nay for his retention. In order of seniority, my lords?”
“Nay,” John said firmly.
“Aye,” said Robert and all eyes went to Barbara Liao.
Helena won’t support removing Kerensky, not unless she’s suddenly gone mad. Even if she’s not officially able to break ties, three votes won’t pass the measure, John thought. Barbara though…?
The Chancellor lifted her own water and sipped thoughtfully. “On balance,” she said after she’d lowered the glass, “I am grateful for your years of service, General.” And then she shook her head. “But it’s time for new blood at the top. I vote aye.”
John slumped back into his chair as Kenyon and Minoru cast their votes and made Helena’s almost plaintive “Nay” meaningless.
“Thank you for your time, Mister Ke-” Kenyon broke off as Kerensky stared him in the eye. Slowly, the general held the gaze until the younger man looked away. Minoru Kurita lowered his gaze rather than meet those gorgon eyes. Nicoletta mouthed something indistinct when it was her turn and when it was Simpson Avellar’s turn he shrank back into his chair like a mouse.
John opened his mouth to speak but closed it as Kerensky shook his head slightly and pulled the Star League badge from his uniform, folding it in one hand.
Robert Steiner was the next victim of the dreadful look that pinned the Archon in his chair, leaving him visibly shaking. Barbara Liao received the look with pale determination but lowered her face, examining her hands clasped in her lap.
At last Kerensky looked to Helena Cameron. Reaching up without looking he stripped off his rank pins and placed them together upon the table before the young Director-General. One at a time he pulled medals and certifying badges off, heaping them before her. The last was his gunslingers badge, placed on top. Facing her on the table, the general reached over and took the woman’s hands, moving them to the little stack of honours.
Then, without another word, Aleksandr Kerensky turned and walked from the council chamber. The guards snapped to attention for him and the doors closed behind the man with barely a whisper.
The eight people of the table all seemed to struggle to find something to say. Hanse seemed similarly speechless.
John broke the silence, rising to his feet. “Sergeant,” he called to the nearest guard. “Come here a moment.”
“General Davion?” The man took two steps forward.
“Just hypothetically, if General Kerensky had called for a firing squad, how long would it take for there to be a squad of armed guards in here?”
“Thirty seconds maximum.”
“Not bad. And if he’d… no, never mind. Unfair question. Thank you Sergeant.”
“What – ?” asked Kenyon. “What were you going to ask?”
John glared at him. “Your father, at his drunken worst, couldn’t have made more of a fool of himself.” He pushed the chair away. “I suggest an adjournment.”
“On what grounds?”
“I think the Archon needs clean pants,” suggested Hanse.
“I asked the same question a moment ago, Chancellor,” John shot back over his shoulder. “Apparently, because some people don’t seem to realise what was stopping that man from having us detained or executed.”
“What was?” asked Simpson in a small voice.
The door opened before John and both guards saluted him. “Not a ****** thing.”