The Knight, page 11
“But you’re assuming I was lying to you. Really, I was lying to Dar. He needs a kick in the ass on a daily basis, I’ve found.”
Adam wanted to hug Remy. Kiss him and fuck him too, but right then, he’d have been happy with just a hug. And a slow crawl back into their bed, a sleepy cuddle, and a return to their peaceful cocoon. But Remy was moving again, pulling his jacket on to cover the holstered gun and then heading for the door. “Me and Dar will have to work out shifts, I guess. But for now, you need to get down to your office pretty soon, right? Or are you going to learn to shoot this morning? Dar’s better for that than I am, but I can come along to help, I guess, and he can sleep afterward. Are you going to shower?”
Maybe the barrage of questions was a way for Remy to burn off a little nervous energy, or maybe he was just impatient for Adam to get his ass in gear. Remy probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he knew how adorable Adam found him when he was being bossy. “I’ll shower,” Adam said. He was tempted to invite Remy to join him, but resisted. The fine line between an invitation and a command was still hard to find sometimes. “The security team says the only real way into this suite is through the front door, so if you want to go get some breakfast, that’s fine. I’ll be safe on my own.”
“You could slip on the soap,” Remy said seriously. “Crack your skull open. You should probably wear a helmet.”
“There’s one already in there. I wear it every time.”
“Okay, then. I’ll go get things set up with Dar.” Remy smiled, then stepped forward quickly to press a light, chaste kiss to Adam’s lips. “Good morning.”
Adam forced his hands to stay at his side and smiled back as calmly as he could. “Good morning. Thank you for being here.”
“I’m a patriot, you know. It’s an honor to serve my country.” He stepped back, then snapped a very professional salute before turning in sharp military style and marching out of the bedroom.
“He did get some training,” Adam muttered, then he headed for the bathroom. His morning erection had subsided during the Dar drama, but Adam knew it wouldn’t be long before it returned, not if he kept thinking about Remy. He might as well be in the shower when it happened.
OVER the next few days, they fell into an easy routine. Remy was with Adam around the clock, with Dar keeping watch at night. They’d both been there anytime Adam left the relative safety of the Capitol, but those expeditions were rare. There was too much to do at the office, and too many dangers in the outside world.
Adam and Kara learned to shoot, and they both took handguns home with them. Adam was forced to admit that Kara’s aim was quite a bit better than his, and in return she conceded that she wasn’t really sure she’d be able to pull the trigger if there was a human target in her sights.
Adam went to bed in a black mood, thinking about a world where his nineteen-year-old daughter might have to kill in order to protect herself, and Remy held him close and didn’t say anything.
On their fourth morning together, Adam woke up to the insistent buzzing of his comm. Remy was a light sleeper, and he was already alert, slipping discreetly off to the side so Adam could use the camera feature on his comm without advertising his sleeping arrangements. Adam hated it that Remy had been so well trained, but was distracted from that line of thought when the comm buzzed again.
“Yes?” Adam said as he activated the comm and saw Morgan’s pinched face.
“Rioting,” Morgan said simply. “On the west coast.”
“It’s still the middle of the night over there,” Adam protested.
“It started last night, and hasn’t subsided.”
“Damn it. How bad?”
“Bad. You should get down here.”
“Ten minutes,” Adam said. Remy was already moving, and Adam knew he was going to get coffee while Adam made himself presentable. It was one of the many injustices of the world that Adam had to shave and preen to look even remotely businesslike while Remy looked beautiful even with stubble and wrinkled clothes. Of course, Remy wasn’t going to be in the spotlight—that was Adam’s role.
They had a minute to spare when Dar and the security guards escorted Adam into the conference room. Remy found his spot by the door and waited quietly while Adam found a seat next to Don Ackerman, who was busy on his comm.
“The crowd is estimated at over fifty thousand,” Morgan reported without preamble. “There’s been significant damage to commercial interests: some vandalism, but also widespread looting.”
The room was filling with the other members of the council, and Adam frowned. The timing was strange. Everyone lived close by, but he was in the actual building. He’d gotten there quickly, once he’d been notified. So why were the others arriving at the same time as he was? But he didn’t have time to worry about that right then.
“What started it?” he asked. “What set them off?”
“Panic.” Morgan’s voice was clipped. “There was a news report last night on the world’s food supplies, and the continued uncertainty over the colonies. As far as we can tell, a small group broke into a grocery store with the intention of taking all the food they could carry, even though they couldn’t afford to buy it. Things spread from there.”
“To over fifty thousand?” Surely there had to be more to this, and Adam needed to know what it was.
“I don’t think we can discount the impact of the Capital City riot,” Morgan said stiffly. “Or, rather, the lack of impact. Still not a single charge laid? People have noticed that. If there’s no punishment for rioting, for looting and taking whatever they want….” Morgan left the rest of the sentence unfinished.
Adam didn’t really think he had a response. Not a good one. They hadn’t laid any charges yet; that was undeniable. There had been trouble with the surveillance footage, trouble identifying participants, trouble collecting evidence or witness statements. “Are the cameras on this time?” he asked.
“They are,” Don Ackerman replied. “I had them turned on last night. And security forces have already engaged the crowd. We’re working with the new nonlethal techniques, but trying to be more aggressive than last time. We want evidence, and we want to make it clear that this sort of behavior won’t be tolerated.”
“So what’s left?” Adam tried to sound calm and collected. “It sounds like you’re taking the lead on this one, Don. I think it would have been good to get the council together for a discussion first, but it’s your department. Your call. So why are we all here now? Is there something that needs to be decided?”
“You don’t want to be kept informed of all the developments?” Morgan sounded shocked by Adam’s callowness.
“I do want that. I would have liked that last night, but last night, apparently you decided not to share. So now… what’s new? What’s changed?”
“We just wanted to make sure there was something to report,” Ackerman said. “We’ve been gathering information, trying to figure out how serious this is.”
“Okay.” There was no point in dwelling on the past. “So it looks like it’s serious. What do we need to do? Another public address? That seemed to work pretty well last time.”
“I think we should hold off on that,” Morgan said. “You’re right, it did work, at least short term. But I think it sets a dangerous precedent. People should obey the laws because they’re the laws, not because somebody broadcasts a message asking them to obey the laws. The first riot, we gave them a warning. This riot… I think we should make it clear that warnings aren’t something they should expect.”
“They,” Adam said softly. He wanted to look at Remy, but resisted. Instead he shook his head at Morgan. “Us and them. The powerful and the powerless. We can’t set up that system again.”
“That’s a nice philosophy, Adam.” Morgan sounded impatient. “Can you figure out a way to apply it to the current situation?”
“Something different than what you’ve got? No, not really.” Adam pushed his chair back and stood up. “I can’t disagree with what you’re saying. I just… it’s not them. It’s not the same rioters this time as it was last time. They’re on different sides of the continent. Talking about it like there’s one big group of people out there… I don’t like that.” He knew he was rambling, and made himself stop.
“Does it make it sound better if I say we? We can’t be rioting and looting. We can’t expect the security forces to give us warnings and lots of chances to run away before we get caught doing illegal and destructive things.” Morgan shrugged to show that the precise terminology was unimportant to him.
“‘The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich and the poor alike to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread.’ Anatoly France said that a couple hundred years ago.”
“And how does that relate to this situation, Adam?” General Mackie, as always, sounded mildly amused. “We’re all poor now, remember? Our fortunes were forfeited. We’re receiving the same twenty dollars a day that the rest of the country is receiving.”
“There’s more to it than money, Tom. Do you really believe you or your family are going to starve? If there is a food shortage, do you think we won’t get some sort of special treatment? We’ll justify it by saying that we’re doing important work and need to be protected. Right?”
“That’s when we’ll have the one big group of them,” Desmond Chan said, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. “One big, hungry, uncontrollable group, if we can’t figure out a way to get food from the colonies. We should let Don take care of this incident. We have a bigger problem, and we’re running out of time.” He looked around the ring of men sitting at the table. “We need to figure out how to feed our people. If we can’t do that, none of the rest of this matters.”
Chapter 11
THE next few days were chaotic. The riots spread along the west coast, despite the strong response by security forces, and Don Ackerman spent most of his time traveling back and forth from the capital to the scenes of looting. The rest of the country maintained some level of civilization, although reports suggested that hoarding and black-market sales were rampant. But as Desmond Chan had pointed out, none of that was important, really. The unrest was merely a symptom of the larger disease: the country, and the world, had lost its primary source of food, and no one had been able to figure out a way to address the issue.
“They’re barely talking to us,” Morgan complained. “It’s blackmail. They’re not negotiating! Refusing to send food unless we give a full and irrevocable recognition of their independence? They’re going to starve an entire planet if they don’t get their way exactly?” He shook his head. “Bullshit. They have no military.” He glanced over to Remy, sitting by the doorway, and made a face that Adam had to interpret as apologetic. Adam had seen Morgan talking to Remy from time to time, treating him with more courtesy than most of the other members of the council. But now Morgan was considering Remy’s feelings in matters of state policy?
Well, not considering them too much, apparently, because after the look, Morgan went on to say, “Military intervention doesn’t have to mean a massacre. If sufficient force is displayed, the colonists would have to be stupid or suicidal not to give in.” Another apologetic grimace, but he continued. “The Colony Seventeen Massacre, in this context, is almost an advantage. With that as a backdrop, our military presence will seem more threatening. They’ll believe that we’ll do it, because we’ve done it before.”
Adam watched Remy’s face. It stayed totally passive, and Adam felt a quick flash of familiar rage, hatred for the people who’d made Remy so good at disguising his emotions.
“We’re not at that point yet,” Adam said, wishing Remy would look at him. “We still have time. We can negotiate, we can wait them out, we can look for another way. We shouldn’t send the military somewhere unless we’re prepared for them to act like the warriors they are. And I’m not prepared to see that happen, not until there’s absolutely no other way.”
“The other continents aren’t being quite so careful,” Samuel Turay said. He was the one in charge of foreign affairs, so he should certainly know. “I think they’re a day or two away from sending an armada. They want it to be united, with all former colonial powers sending a crystal-clear message that this won’t be tolerated.” He shrugged wryly. “It’s got them talking to us, at least. And it would be an excellent opportunity for us to work with them. We could cement relationships, make it clear that we’re a legitimate government.”
“We’ll prove our legitimacy by engaging in aggression against our former citizens?” Adam was tired of this line of argument, but could never find a way to defeat it permanently.
“That’s what our current citizens want,” Morgan said quietly. He tapped his comm screen and the oversized screen on the wall changed to display a chart. “Overwhelming support for the threat of military action. Strong support for lethal force if needed.” And damn it, he looked at Remy again before saying, “A disturbing level of support for ‘any means necessary’.” He waited to let the inhabitants of the room read the chart before saying, “People are afraid. The former government was brutal and dictatorial, but at least the citizens knew what to expect. With us… they don’t even trust us to be competent. They want us to prove ourselves to them, and as habitual victims of state violence, violence is one of the only communication techniques they understand. For their whole lives, they’ve been told that might is right; we can’t expect them to forget about all that in less than two months.”
“Now who’s getting philosophical?” Adam tried to keep the question light, and he tried not to stare at Remy. He tried not to wonder just what Remy and Morgan had been talking about, and how well they’d been getting along. Neither he nor the country could afford the distraction. “I don’t disagree,” he said. “But I think we can hold them off for another few days. For longer than that, if we can.” He looked at Turay. “I agree that it would be beneficial for us to work together with the other continental governments. But not on something like this, surely. If we can persuade them to keep trying to negotiate, and to wait until the last minute, then….” Now it was his turn to look apologetically in Remy’s direction. He had his mouth open to finish the sentence when the room shook. The dull, distant thudding sound came a moment later.
“What the hell?” General Mackie managed, and then the main doors slid open and the guards streamed in, their weapons drawn and ready.
“Please remain calm,” the lead guard said. “We’re receiving reports….” He nodded in response to something only he could hear, then said, “There’s been an explosion on the first floor. Evacuation protocols are being initiated.” He stepped around the table and headed for the small door at the back of the room. “Please follow me.”
Adam hadn’t even noticed the movement, but somehow Remy was by his side, handgun drawn but held unobtrusively by his thigh. “Dar’s on his way,” Remy said quietly.
Adam frowned. “You don’t think….”
“Sir, if you’ll follow me, please,” the lead guard said. The calm authority in his voice was hard to resist.
“Just a second,” Adam said. The other council members were filing obediently out of the room, heading out the door. “Where are you taking us?”
“There are evacuation shuttles on the roof, sir. It’s standard procedure. Please follow me.”
Morgan was the only other council member still in the room. He looked back from the door before going through it. “Adam, what’s the problem?”
Adam looked at Remy. Was there a problem?
“Doesn’t this remind you of anything?” Remy asked impatiently. “A distant explosion, with dignitaries evacuated as a precaution? By shuttle?”
Damn it. Once it was said that way, it seemed far too familiar, and Adam could see the awareness growing on Morgan’s face as well. Adam turned to the guard. “How often are the shuttles inspected? Have you changed procedures since the Baryman Hotel bombing?” He didn’t think it was the right time to point out that he’d been one of the revolutionaries involved in that incident. “Remy’s right—if the enemy couldn’t reach us in this room, they might attack an easier nearby target in order to trigger our evacuation procedures. It flushes us out into the open, and if they’ve had time to sabotage the shuttles….”
That was when Dar arrived, his gun held low and ready just like Remy’s. Kara and Antonia trailed after him, looking disoriented but not afraid. Dar must have dragged them out of the suite without much explanation. “You’re still here,” he said, sounding relieved. “This seems really familiar, right?”
“We were just discussing that,” Adam said. He let himself pull Kara in for a quick hug. It was good to know that she was safe, at least for the time being, but her presence reminded him of one more responsibility dragging down on him. He felt overwhelmed, involved in things far beyond his experience or expertise. But he was supposed to be the leader, so he turned to the guard. “Get them off the roof. If things heat up here, we’ll still have time to evacuate. But our enemy probably knows our procedures, so following the plans too closely makes us vulnerable.”
The guard froze, clearly torn between past training and current events. It was Dar, brash and relaxed, who pushed past the careful balance. “That was an order from the continental leader, Lieutenant.”
The guard looked at Morgan, then swiveled to stare at Adam before activating the comm attached to his helmet. “Suspend evacuation,” he ordered. “Move the subjects to covered locations and hold position until further orders.”
“We should get out of this room, though,” Dar said. He looked at the guard. “Between here and the roof—is there somewhere we could go? Stash them”—he jerked his head to indicate Morgan, Adam, and the ladies—”and guard the door?”
The guard frowned. “There’s an old service hallway that was converted to an evacuation corridor. There are a few doors off of it, but they’ve been welded shut.”
