Free The Clone Sedition by Steven L. Kent Page A

stepped off the elevator.
    She was tall and curvy with long blond hair and pale skin. Her eyes were ice blue. She introduced herself as Emily and ushered us to the governor’s office.
    One of the suits who led us to the building whispered, “That’s Hughes’s granddaughter.”
    I thought,
If Watson gets ahold of this one, Hughes will wind up a great-grandfather before his time.
    Emily Hughes caught Jackson staring at her and gave him a shy smile. The colonel couldn’t take his eyes off her.
    “Put it on ice, Colonel,” I whispered as she opened the door. “We want her grandfather on our side.”
    Jackson grunted a soft “yes, sir,” but his eyes remained fixed.
    Hughes met us at his office door. He said, “Good to see you, General,” and reached to shake my hand. He and I hadmet on a few occasions over the last two decades. Some of our meetings had been cordial, but most had not.
    I shook his hand.
    “Governor, this is Colonel Curtis Jackson,” I said.
    Jackson and Hughes shook hands, and Hughes led us into his office, which apparently doubled as his home. There was a bed in one corner of the room, Hughes’s bed.
    The meeting started off on a civil tone.
    Once he closed the door, Hughes said, “I suppose you are here about the Night of the Martyrs. I can assure you that my office had nothing to do with that unfortunate event. Colonel Riley has asked me about the incident several times.”
    “So he tells me,” I said.
    Hughes said, “I understand EMN Intelligence has had agents investigating as well.” Instead of hiding behind his desk, he stood with Jackson and me.
    “And you still have no idea who could have been behind it?” I asked.
    “No idea.” He paused, folded his arms across his chest, and said, “General, these people are loyal to the Enlisted Man’s Empire. They are aware of the sacrifices your military has made.”
    I interrupted him, and asked, “Did you know I lost two men on the way here?”
    “Yes, I heard about that. Most unfortunate. I am sure Spaceport Security will find the people responsible.”
    “Spaceport Security is my people,” I said. “What about your people? What are you going to do to help?”
    “What do you mean?” Hughes asked. His eyes darted around the room, and he started pacing.
    “Two murders have been committed,” I said. “Help us bring the killers to justice.”
    “General, how would you have me help? Your best course of action is to keep me out of this.”
    “Bullshit,” said Jackson. “You know what I see when I looked around the spaceport? I see the beginning of a war. Those Legion banners on the walls out there, they’re a call for war.”
    Hughes ignored Jackson and aimed his answers at me. He said, “I assure you, General, war with the Enlisted Man’sEmpire is the last thing these people want. What happened in the grand arcade was an accident, a serious and unfortunate accident.”
    “The Night of the Martyrs was not an accident,” I said.
    “Those banners aren’t an accident,” said Jackson.
    “Nor are they a call to arms,” said Hughes.
    “Tell me about Legion,” I said.
    “There is a religious revival going on,” said Hughes. “These people have nothing. They live in squalor. Some of them are turning to religion.
    “Look, General, they are refugees with nothing but the blankets on which they sleep. They are impoverished, they are uncomfortable, and they are unhappy. What would you expect?
    “It’s a common thing. People who have nothing often turn to God. Frankly, I consider the revival a positive turn of events. People in need look for a deliverer. They could have turned to a military figure, but they chose to go with God.”
    “What does that have to do with Legion?” asked Jackson.
    “In order to have a god, you need to have a devil,” Hughes explained. “They call their devil Legion.”
    “What about the Night of the Martyrs?” I asked. “What was that, hybrid military/faith-based salvation?”
    “General