Free Cluster Command: Crisis of Empire II by David Drake, W. C. Dietz Page B

had spared no expense to make the room both comfortable and attractive. Light poured in from a series of large rectangular windows. A long black conference table of highly polished native stone ran the length of the room. Upholstered chairs surrounded it and added to the atmosphere of elegant comfort. Gray drapes with burgundy trim covered the walls and also served to conceal a holotank.
    Governor Windsor was seated at the head of the table with Senda on his right and Tenly on his left. Also present were Merikur, Captain Von Oy, and Lieutenant Commander Moskone.
    As usual, Windsor looked quite dashing with his quick smile and flashing eyes. A small bandage over his left eye gave him a slightly piratical air. In spite of Merikur’s strenuous objections, Windsor insisted on working in the planet’s spirelike administration building.
    “I appreciate your concern for my safety, General, but government is two-thirds smoke and one-third accomplishment. This office has symbolic value. By staying here, I tell both friends and enemies alike that I’m not afraid.” He grinned, “Even though I am.”
    Merikur knew there was truth in what Windsor said, but also harbored a strong suspicion that the new governor liked the trappings of office and was loath to give them up. In any case, Windsor’s decision was final. Merikur beefed up security and hoped for the best.
    Again.
    Windsor opened the meeting.
    “Thank you for coming. I know how busy you’ve been since the assassination attempt. I’d especially like to praise Eitor Senda for a smooth transition of power under trying circumstances and General Merikur for the military’s heroic efforts, including his own. It gives me great pleasure to announce that, along with a detailed report of what’s happened here, I’ve sent Pact Command my recommendation that General Merikur receive the Medal of Valor.”
    Every decade or so, someone among the billion-plus members of Pact Military forces received that medal. Usually post-humously. Merikur blushed at the general applause and mumbled something about his people. His comments were generally ignored; cluster commanders who behaved like line marines were something special, it seemed.
    “All right,” Windsor said as the applause died down, “we have a great deal to discuss. If successful, the attack would have eliminated Governor Trent, myself, and all my senior staff. It’s likely that a good deal of time would have elapsed before another governor arrived. During that time, the cluster would be highly vulnerable, both to internal and external opportunists.
    Everyone nodded. Windsor was right—and he was in charge. He sipped water before going on, “That much is fairly obvious. What’s not so obvious is that even if the plan failed, it would still succeed in another way.”
    He glanced at each of his subordinates in turn. “I refer, of course, to the exclusive use of alien assassins. Its purpose was to feed existing racism—while also acting to discredit me. Those who wish to may now conclude that I was not only wrong to advocate human-alien equality—but criminally stupid as well. Their motto will be that the only good alien is a dead alien.”
    “Or one who is working in a mine,” Senda added calmly.
    “Exactly,” Windsor agreed, steepling his fingers. “However, there are some bright spots in all this darkness. For one thing, the loyalty of the Governor’s Hundred does much to prove that some aliens can be trusted, not to mention Eitor’s willingness to sacrifice himself for me.
    “By the way, Eitor, next time you save my life, try to do it a little less enthusiastically.” Windsor’s hand went up to the bandage on his forehead.
    Senda grinned his upside down grin. “Well, Governor, as you humans would say, robust fecal matter.”
    Windsor laughed. “Sometimes I think we’re a bad influence on you.” Turning to the others he said, “Ever since we landed, Eitor has been pouring over the cluster files. I’ve