price remains one kilogram, Majesty.”
Tirano was short and obese. To many, he knew he appeared the jolly king and he did nothing to dissuade this reputation. But to those who knew him intimately, he was short tempered, harsh, quick to judge. The antithesis of his outward appearance. Nor did he attempt to change this lesser known image. Tirano was clean shaven and his hair fell in a bowl-trimmed mop, which, by decree, no other could sport. He saw Shawn’s eyes drop to his legs again. For once, Tirano regretted shaving his legs. This sexoff queen couldn’t keep his eyes off them. “I must study on this.”
“You provide the men, I provide the transports,” Shawn said. “And I require sufficient lead time to assemble crews and find legitimate reasons to gather that many transports.”
Tirano glared at him. “Not all at one place and one destination?”
“I am more subtle than that. I will get them from different ports on different worlds, ostensibly to bring mined materials from some distant asteroids.” He waved a hand. “That’s really no problem. The point remains that it shall take time.”
“One kilogram of mite dust will make you a wealthy man.” Tirano couldn’t hide the sneer in his voice.
“And insure you are no less wealthy yourself, Majesty.”
Tirano knew he could afford it. Was not wealth one reason why he and Two Tongues were technologically superior to that dolt Shepherd and Bear Ridge? An old folk remedy found during the Rollback on Two Tongues. And now, specially treated, the only genuine non-synthesizable aphrodisiac, organic or inorganic, in the scope of human existence.
Shawn interrupted his thoughts. “What have you got against this fellow, the one over there on Bear Ridge?”
“He is a fool and a childbrain.”
“Doesn’t seem to me sufficient reason to mount an invasion,” Shawn observed, scratching through his jump suit.
Tirano remembered the instant enmity between Shepherd and himself. They’d argued and fought from the beginning. First at the conference on Bear Ridge, gaining intensity at the sector capital years later. Then he had thought himself free from Shepherd until it was his turn to sponsor the conference; the Federation had flown Shepherd to Two Tongues and the animosity exploded. Tirano thought that he’d had the last laugh by humiliating Shepherd when he could, but after the conference and Shepherd had left, Tirano discovered the miserable bastard had placed a laxative candy in his palace bird feed supply. It had taken weeks of investigation to figure that one out and rectify the problem. Weeks of birds which could not be caged and were used to the run of the palace actually having the runs all over the palace. The mess! Guano, slippery and runny, everywhere.
“The bird-shit episode doesn’t qualify as important enough for revenge to invade another planet,” chuckled Shawn.
“Does the entire universe know of my humiliation?”
“Laughs are hard to come by,” Shawn said evasively and looked again at Tirano’s legs.
But Tirano knew that Shawn knew the bird guano incident wasn’t enough to cause an invasion. An illegal invasion. Fleetingly, Tirano thought of the long-legged, lithe-limbed, star-eyed beauty named Gwendlyon. Then he thought of her in bed with that animal Shepherd. She could have been mine, he thought. He had been younger and thinner then. It had all been arranged with her father. Gwen had caught his eye during the conference on Bear Ridge. He made a quick agreement with Gwen’s father and all was set. Until an upstart young king of Bear Ridge’s largest kingdom had taken a notion in his head to unite the planet. Shepherd was a scheming conniver, always sneaking about, planning some mischief, grabbing what he wanted. Grabbing, always grabbing. No flair, no subtlety. Always driving for something. Well, Tirano thought, he’d take a page from Shepherd’s book. Talk about audacity. They’d never expect this move; and especially since Two Tongues had the upper hand in the race for admission to the one vacant Federation Council seat.
He’d planned this for years. The timing had to be precise. He’d present the Federation with a fait accompli; and, by their own foolish rules, they would have to admit Two Tongues and give him the Council seat. But there was a weak point in his plans: in transit. His troops would be vulnerable and his plans could fail should the Fed discover the illicit freighters transporting an army to a neighboring planet. After they arrived, and the ships were gone, there was nothing the Fed could do. The cunning manner in which he alone pulled off the coup would be a high recommendation to those political asses on the Council. And then his power would be amplified. No longer would he have to fret over the loyalty of his kingdom, his planet, his people.
Of course, he already had the under-the-table support of several on the Council; money goes a long way—and with it, power. Those on the Council smart enough to realize his worth secretly backed him. In fact, one had dispatched this distasteful man Shawn. He scarcely wanted to admit to himself one more reason for his invasion of Bear Ridge. It was a castro. When you’re in charge and have problems, blame your social ills on some outside agency. Redirect attention elsewhere and thus submerge internal problems in a larger, more significant action. When he became emperor of both planets, he could play one off against the other. After, he amended, he looted Bear Ridge. He knew of Shepherd’s secret gold mine. That would become his.
“You have highly placed agents to insure...,” Shawn was saying.
“I said I have an agent or agents, and I did not say how placed,” Tirano corrected. No one save himself knew of the spy. One who was disenchanted with Shepherd. They communicated in code by clandestine comm sets, two of which his wealth had bought, and were hidden well, unknown to the Fed. The whole invasion hinged on timing and the agent was the crux of the matter. Two Tongues had already been reviewed by a Federation envoy, thus Tirano knew precisely what procedures were required of the applicant being reviewed. And this knowledge he would use. He stroked a bird which landed on his shoulder. “Ah, TJ, count your days.”
“Majesty?”
“Nothing. Get your ships, Shawn. My general will brief you on the requirements before your departure. And have caution. Do not let the Fed observe your ship, or else....”
“It’s my ass, too,” Shawn said.
“Your political connections, they’ll save you, Shawn.”
“I doubt they could.”
“A kilogram of mite dust should buy a lot of Federation bureaucrats.”
Shawn shrugged.
Tirano briefly worried that Shawn would discover that a Federation envoy was currently on Bear Ridge observing and evaluating. Further complications could arise. He’d have to neutralize the envoy or at least remove the envoy’s comm gear. Yes, a little sabotage was in order—not too early, just at the right time. On the other hand, suppose something bad happened to the envoy? Like death, for instance. Would not the Federation hold Shepherd responsible? A point worth considering. Along with the removal of Shepherd himself. Decapitate the Dragon of Bear Ridge and the planet was his. Tirano shuddered when he remembered Shepherd carried the Muster medallion. He had to admit that Shepherd was one fighting son of a bitch.
And if Shepherd were dead, then Gwendlyon would be a widow. Tirano found he still wanted her. After all these years. She could remain queen, and help him consolidate power—almost a coup d’état rather than an invasion. No matter what other promises had been made.
But Thomas Jefferson Shepherd had to die.
Maybe he wouldn’t marry Gwendlyon, maybe he’d just use her; humiliate her for turning him down against her father’s wishes.
Tirano looked at Shawn, the politically connected, sexoff, renegade captain. Was Shawn really a renegade? Or was he merely acting a role? Could someone at the Federation or on the Council be playing his own game for his own ends, using Tirano? Possibly. It bore close watching. Even though the plan was his own conception, someone could be using it. It was a tricky situation since the Fed had express regulations against member planets and their people having any contact with non-member planets. Only Fed controlled occasions,