Company Wars 01 – Downbelow Station

be told why. She focused on Sung’s face, on a classic aged mask which never

admitted impatience; but the eyes were dark. Nerves, she reminded herself. They

were exhausted, had been yanked out of combat, through jump, into this. Not a

time to make profound or far-reaching judgments.

Mazian came in finally, quietly, passed them and took his place at the head of

the table, face downcast, haggard as the rest of them. Defeat? Signy wondered,

with a knot in the pit of her stomach, like something which would not digest.

And then he looked up and she saw that small tautness about Mazian’s mouth and

knew otherwise… sucked in her breath with a flare of anger. She recognized the

little tension, a mask—Conrad Mazian played parts, staged his appearances as he

staged ambushes and battles, played the elegant or the coarse by turns. This was

humility, the falsest face of all, quiet dress, no show of brass; the hair, that

silver of rejuv, was immaculate, the lean face, the tragic eyes… the eyes lied

most of all, facile as an actor’s. She watched the play of expressions, the

marvelous fluidity that would have seduced a saint. He prepared to maneuver

them. Her lips drew tight

“You all right?” he asked them. “All of you—”

“Why were we pulled out?” she asked forthwith, surprised a direct contact from

those eyes, a reflection of anger in return. “What can’t go over com?” She never

questioned, had never objected to an order of Mazian’s in her whole career. She

did now, and watched the expression go from anger to something like affection.

“All right,” he said. “All right.” He slid a glance around the room… again there

were seats vacant They were nine, with two out on patrol. The glance centered on

each of them in turn. “Something you have to hear,” Mazian said. “Something we

have to reckon with.” He pushed buttons at the console before his seat,

activated the screens on the four walls, identical. Signy looked up at the

schematic they had last seen at Omicron Point, the taste of bile in her mouth,

watched the area widen, familiar stars shrinking in wider scale. There was no

more Company territory; it was not theirs any more; only Pell. On wider view,

they could see the Hinder Stars. Not Sol. But that was in the reckoning too now.

She knew well enough where it was, if the schematic kept widening. It froze,

ceased to grow.

“What is this?” Kreshov asked.

Mazian only let them look.

Long.

“What is this?” Kreshov asked again.

Signy breathed; it took conscious effort in that silence. Time seemed at a halt,

while Mazian showed them in dead silence what was graven in their minds already.

They had lost. They had ruled there once, and they had lost.

“From one living world,” Mazian said, almost a whisper, “from one living world

of our beginning, humankind reached out as far as we’ve ever gone. One narrow

reach of space here, thrust far back from what Union has… the Hinder Stars;

Pell… and the Hinder Stars. Tenable, and with the personnel overloading Pell…

possible.”

“And run again?” Porey asked.

A muscle jerked in Mazian’s jaw. Signy found her heart beating hard and her

palms sweating. It was close to falling apart… all of it

“Listen,” Mazian hissed, mask dropped. “Listen!

He stabbed another button. A voice began to speak, distant, recorded. She knew

it, knew the foreign inflection… knew it.

“Captain Conrad Mazian,” the recording began, “this is second secretary Segust

Ayres of the Security Council, authorization code Omar series three, with

authority of the Council and the Company; cease fire. Cease fire. Peace is being

negotiated. As earnest of good faith require you cease all operations and await

orders. This is a Company directive. All efforts are being made to guarantee

safety of Company personnel, both civilian and military, during this

negotiation. Repeat: Captain Conrad Mazian, this is second secretary Segust

Ayres—”

The voice died abruptly with the push of a key. Silence lingered after it. Faces

were stark with dismay.

“War’s over,” Mazian whispered. “War’s over, do you understand?”

A chill ran through Signy’s blood. All about them was the image of what they had

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