“In the aftermath of the Three Circles Conspiracy,” she said, her tone dryly precise, “an RCN battleship under Admiral O’Quinn fled to the Commonwealth. I would have thought that the Commonwealth’s refusal to return the vessel and its crew of mutineers would have seriously soured relations.”
“Yes, the Aristoxenos,” Sand said, nodding. “Most of her officers turned out to have been members of the Popular Party. A cousin of yours was the first lieutenant, I believe?”
“Yes,” Adele said. Her smile was as cold as the winter moon. “Commander Adrian Purvis. My closest living relative as a result of his having successfully fled.”
“In fact the Aristoxenos is part of the problem,” Sand explained, rising and walking over to the tantalus. “But you see, the Commonwealth of God has its own internal divisions, rather worse than those which beset the Republic sixteen years ago. O’Quinn made his first planetfall on Todos Santos in the Ten Star Cluster where Governor Sakama had already been pursuing a policy independent of the government on Radiance.”
Without turning, Sand held to the light a glass of liquor the color of sun-struck brass. “With a modern battleship and an RCN crew to support him,” she continued, “Sakama took an even stronger line. The Aristoxenos practically annihilated a Commonwealth fleet six months later, guaranteeing that the central government would be content with lip service from the Cluster.”
“I see,” said Adele. She poured more water, but she didn’t feel the need to drink it. Having a real question to deal with had jerked her mind out of the blood-drenched groove it’d been running in ever since she shot the gunman this afternoon.
She’d had no choice. He’d attacked and she’d defended herself. She’d had every legal and moral right to shoot the man. . . .
But only sociopaths like Tovera killed without regret, because they had no consciences and no souls. That wasn’t Adele Mundy. Not yet.
“Warships degrade without maintenance,” she said aloud, meeting Sand’s eyes as she turned. “Ships do and crews do as well. Has the Cluster been able to maintain the Aristoxenos? Because if not, I doubt it’s an effective fighting unit by this time.”
” ‘Effective’ is a relative concept, Mundy,” Mistress Sand said. “Given the sort of small, indifferently-crewed ships that make up the Commonwealth naval forces, yes—the Aristoxenos is still effective, at least as a deterrent. And the drubbing she doled out to the central government fleet created a legend that fifteen years doesn’t erase.”
Adele turned up her left palm. “Go on,” she said quietly. The quickest way to learn what Sand wanted from her was to sit and listen.
“The Ten Star Cluster lies on the shortest routes from Cinnabar to the Galactic North,” Sand continued. “The Republic had more serious concerns at the time than the defection of one battleship—”
Adele nodded curtly. The Alliance had massed naval forces to threaten several Cinnabar dependencies. Had the conspirators successfully gained power in Xenos, Alliance squadrons would almost certainly have swept in to support them. The actual fighting didn’t go beyond isolated single-ship actions, but there’d been no certainty of that before the fact. Speaker Leary hadn’t been about to order the RCN to send to the back of beyond a powerful force which might be needed to defend Cinnabar itself.
“—and later, capturing or destroying the Aristoxenos at the cost of permanent hostility from whoever ruled the Ten Star Cluster looked like a very poor bargain. Besides—after tempers had cooled, there was very little stomach for executing a thousand or so mutineers.”
Adele thought of the pair of soldiers cutting off the head of her little sister Agatha, who’d managed to avoid capture for several weeks before she was caught. The act had shocked the consciences even of those who’d ordered the Proscriptions.
“Yes,” she said without emotion. “I can imagine that would be a problem. A practical politician might decide to live and let live.”
Sand seated herself again across from Adele. She sipped from her crystalline drink tumbler, but her movements appeared to have been less a matter of thirst than an excuse to turn her back while she spoke difficult truths.
“The situation was—is—satisfactory from Cinnabar’s point of view,” Sand said. She shrugged. “Politics is the art of the possible, after all. It remains a serious thorn in the flesh of the authorities in Radiance, however. Quite apart from the insult, tribute from the Ten Star Cluster had provided a third of the central government’s revenues. After the Aristoxenos arrived, that of course ended. And now . . .”