The Prince by Jerry Pournelle and S.M. Stirling

“I cannot name a commander for you.

“I will name a group that you can obey with honor. It consists of people you know. Two are young, but you will understand why they are named. The third is older and you will understand that choice also. The fourth some of you will know and some will not. My brothers and sisters in arms, I command you: until they themselves shall name a successor to me, you will accept your orders from John Grant; Carleton Blaine; John Christian Falkenberg; and King Alexander of Sparta. They do not always agree, and that is well, for they can work together and they will, and when they are together they have great wisdom. When they speak together you must obey them as you would me.

“Farewell. We have done our best, for civilization, for the human race. We have not failed in our duties. Those to whom we owed obedience failed us. We have not rebelled against legitimate authority. The authority vanished. Now there is no legitimate authority.

“John Grant. Carleton Blaine. John Christian Falkenberg. Alexander of Sparta. They are my heirs, and they will find you an honorable path to follow. Stay together. Act in honor.

“Good-bye, and Godspeed.

“Sergei Mikaelovich Lermontov, Grand Admiral.”

“Holy Christ,” Owensford said. “That’s Lermontov all right.” He wiped at something in his eye. “I guess the Old Man’s really gone. But Alexander is dead. What do we do?”

“Don’t leave much room for maneuver,” Whitlock said. “Four was an unwieldy number anyway. Now it’s three. A Grant, a Blaine, and Christian Johnny. I think the Fleet will like that.”

“Then you think the Fleet will obey that order?” Hal Slater asked.

“Some will,” Whitlock said. “Let’s look here at this system. Karantov will. Newell will think about it for a while. He’s got all that Navy power, and he can see the potential, but he’s pretty smart. He understands you can bash a planet, but you can’t take it over, not with any four ships. Life by blackmail isn’t much of a life. Besides, down deep he’s a good man. He’ll come around, and he’ll bring those others who stood with him.

“Donovic, now, he’s not going to accept this. He’ll head off toward Earth. He’s that kind, he’ll go to see if there’s anything worth picking left on the bones of his mother. So figure, that’s one out of five here won’t accept Lermontov’s heirs. Say two out of five on average, but they won’t all defect in the same direction. Some’ll sell their services to the highest bidder. Hell, that’s about what’s happened here, it’s just we got the bids in early.”

“Only now this comes,” Hal Slater said thoughtfully.

“So maybe one in five goes over to Bronson?” Owensford asked.

“Sounds as good a guess as any,” Whitlock said. “And two in five stick with us. I presume it’s us? We all together in this?”

“One for all,” Hal Slater said.

“And all for one,” Owensford added. “Except where does he come in?” He jerked his thumb toward the door. Whitlock looked at each of his companions.

* * *

The flags of Sparta stood at half mast. All but one. Outside the steps of the Palace the Crowned Mountain stood out proudly at the peak of the flagstaff. At night a dozen spotlights illuminated it.

Most of the wreckage had been cleaned up in Government Square. Many walls would be pockmarked for decades, but the debris was gone. Traffic was thin, but commerce had begun again in the two weeks since the battle ended. Sparta had buried a king, and had yet to crown his son, but Lysander was still Master of the Forces, and had more work to do than ever.

“Prince.”

Lysander looked up from his desk. There were a million details to attend to. During the battles he had given orders to the soldiers, and things happened. Now he hardly saw the soldiers. He gave orders to civilians, and something might happen or might not.

“Aw hell, excuse me. King,” Harv said. “You’d think I’d get used to it.”

“Maybe I should issue a special edict,” Lysander said, smiling. “Permitting you to use any title you feel like. You’ve earned it.”

“Don’t know about that. Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a bunch of military people to see you. Officers, and they brought some enlisted people too, sergeants and like that. About fifty. Say they’d like to see you in the audience chamber whenever it’s convenient, and they’ll wait.”

Lysander frowned. “Well, all right—”

“I think maybe I want some of the Life Guards with us when we meet that crew,” Harv said.

“Whatever for?”

“Prince—Majesty, I plain don’t like it. All these military and navy people, most of ’em in CoDominium uniforms, General Owensford dressed down as a light colonel of the Legion, General Slater in Royal Sparta uniform like Admiral Forrest, and they come with petty officers and sergeants and every one of them wearing sidearms. I been watching them, the last week they been thick as thieves, Majesty. Talking to each other, but not to you.”

“Well, Harv, if that group has come to demand my resignation, a dozen Life Guards won’t change anything. Among them they’ve got enough power to slag this planet. Tell them I’ll be pleased to receive them in the audience chamber in ten minutes, and don’t bother with the Life Guards.”

“Well, if you say so, Prince—”

“I just did, Harv.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lysander found Melissa and Queen Adriana in the family quarters. “I seem to be scheduled to hold an audience,” he said. “Actually it’s not scheduled, it’s more that it’s demanded. Right now. By all the military officers in the system. Mine, the old CoDominium, the Legion—”

“Surely the Legion is ours,” Melissa said.

“I thought so,” Lysander said.

“You look worried,” Queen Adriana said.

“Mother, I don’t know. Harv’s worried, and I guess that’s got me thinking.”

“That they’re here to depose you?”

“Mother, I don’t know. I have no reason to believe that, but I never had the military demand to see me in a body before, either. Anyway, I don’t think I ought to keep them waiting. Melissa, take Mother to the country lodge. Harv has a driver waiting—”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Melissa said. “I’m coming with you.”

Queen Adriana laughed. “I think you’ve got the wind up for nothing, boy. They probably want something, titles and honors and promotions. Soldiers like that sort of thing. But I’ll tell you this, whatever they want, those Helots couldn’t chase me out of this palace, and I’m certainly not going to run from our own soldiers. Now let’s go see what they want. But first, you change to your best tunic, and put your orders on. If we’re going to be deposed, we may as well be dressed for it!”

* * *

The delegation filed in. There were nearly fifty of them, and as Harv had said, they wore many different uniforms. Hal Slater in Legion dress, but still wearing a Royalist shoulder badge, seemed to be their leader, followed closely by Fleet Captain Newell and Colonel Karantov in CoDominium. Just behind them was his own Rear Admiral Forest. Then Colonel Farley of the 77th. The Captains Alana. Legion Senior Sergeant Guiterrez, and other Legion Officers. And last of all, behind the enlisted men, in clothing more colorful than the military uniforms, Dr. Whitlock came in carrying a briefcase.

Lysander received them sitting, with the Dowager Queen and Melissa seated next to him. When they had all filed in, Lysander stood and acknowledged their bows. “I regret that King David is not in the city,” Lysander said.

“Sire, it was you we came to see,” Hal Slater said. He bowed, then bowed again to Queen Adriana. “Madam. Graffina Melissa.”

“General, we are pleased to see you, but this is unexpected.”

“Yes, sire, we know it is,” Slater said. “We’ll be as brief as possible, but the matter is a bit complex.

“Sire, everyone here is familiar with the long messages that constitute Admiral Lermontov’s last will, and of course you have read the copy addressed to your late father.”

“Yes, General.”

“That document named a council of four to succeed Grand Admiral Lermontov. With King Alexander deceased that left three. The purpose of the council is to hold the Fleet together until some new governing structure can be formed to keep the peace.” Hal Slater spoke carefully, as if lecturing at the War College rather than speaking to his sovereign.

“That left us all with a problem,” Slater said. “Two problems, actually. The first is that a council that’s physically dispersed across lightyears of space can’t command. Decisions are going to be needed. Right here in this system we have a divided command. I hold a commission as an officer of the Royal Army and as such I am responsible to the Dual Monarchy; under the Ultimate Decree, to your majesty personally. However, I also have another office. With General Owensford and Dr. Whitlock I am a spokesman for Colonel Falkenberg, and meanwhile he has become Protector of New Washington, as well as a member of the Grand Admiral’s succession council.