I mengsk, p.9
I, Mengsk, page 9
Their wedding had been the most glorious day of his life, and throughout their entire married life they had been pillars of strength for one another, supporting each other through times of bliss and despair, and never wavering in their love.
Katherine leaned her head on his shoulder, and Angus kissed the top of her head.
“Dorothy asleep?” he asked.
“Out like a light,” said Katherine. “Today really took it out of her, bless her.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Yes, it was quite a day, wasn’t it?” said Katherine, and Angus laughed so hard tears rolled down his cheeks.
When he had composed himself, he said, “You always did have a knack for understatement, dear.”
It had indeed been quite a day, a day that had seen his son finally graduate and the principal of Styrling Academy hauled off to jail by a former student.
When Angus’s fone had trilled in his pocket, he had been irritated at the interruption of his son’s graduation day, for he had left strict instructions with all his subordinates that he was not to be disturbed.
Then he had heard a multitude of clicks, bleeps, and whistles of hundreds of fones and personal consoles receiving incoming data streams. A ripple of consternation spread throughout the crowd and Angus felt his stomach lurch as he saw that the originating signal belonged to Arcturus’s console.
“Oh God, what’s he done now?” Angus whispered as his fone’s screen lit up and a number of files opened. His practiced eye quickly scanned the contents and his anger built as he flipped though the various statements and account records.
“The thieving little bastard …,” hissed Angus, looking up and seeing that same anger on scores of other faces now staring in fury at the principal of Styrling Academy. “I told you he was nothing more than a damn crook!”
“Who?” asked Katherine, puzzled at the suddenly tense atmosphere.
“Steegman,” barked Angus, making Dorothy flinch. “These are his private accounts. The little toad’s siphoned millions from the school treasury and fund-raisers over the years.”
People were getting to their feet now, an angry hubbub of voices cutting through the sound of the band and the shouted names of graduating students.
Onstage, Steegman looked puzzled and angry at the disruption, calling for quiet and order. But as an irate school governor marched over and thrust a portable console in front of him, his face blanched in horror as he realized what the entire audience had just read.
Looking back over the day, Angus chuckled as he remembered Steegman’s halfhearted attempts to calm the situation. Violence had been averted only by the chief of the SPF’s hauling the principal away and bundling him into his groundcar, to the uproarious cheers and applause of the entire student body.
The news had traveled fast, for Arcturus had been thorough in his dissemination of Steegman’s files, and within the hour the scandal was being reported on the UNN. Steegman was not connected to anyone of influence, and a great deal of the money he had stolen had come from some very wealthy, very powerful families.
They would throw Steegman to the wolves, and the courts were sure to show him no mercy.
In the aftermath of Steegman’s arrest, the vice principal had tried to calm the situation, but gave up in the face of a horde of angry parents and jubilant students, who cheered and hurled their mortarboards into the air.
A near riot had only been avoided by the contagious glee of the students, who danced and laughed and sang as Steegman was driven away in disgrace. Recriminations and a thorough investigation of the depths of the principal’s corruption were sure to follow.
With Steegman’s departure, the staff and parents milled around in confusion until the vice principal led them off into the main administration block like a marching mob, leaving the jubilant students to continue the party on the main lawn.
Some of the academy’s masters had wanted to cancel the graduation ball planned for the evening, but after the day’s amusements, it was clear the students weren’t going to allow this day of festivities to end so quickly.
Now, with the day behind them, Angus and Katherine stood and drank wine as the architect of the day’s mischief enjoyed his graduation ball.
“I should be angry at him,” said Angus.
“Who?” asked Katherine.
“Arcturus, who else?”
Katherine chuckled. “I know, but it’s hard to be angry with him for today. After all, he’s graduated now, and you can’t say Steegman didn’t deserve what happened.”
“Oh, he deserved it all right,” agreed Angus with a smile. “And to get his just desserts so publicly … I almost don’t mind losing the money to have been there to see it.”
Katherine leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason to kiss my husband?”
“No. Never.”
“Good. I’m proud of you,” said Katherine. “You know that, don’t you?”
Angus nodded. “I know that.”
“I’m proud of you both, you and Arcturus. You’re very alike, you know?”
Angus furrowed his brow and turned to face his wife. “The boy is willful.”
“He’s his father’s son.” Katherine pointed out, laughing.
Angus grunted, unwilling to concede the point. “He has a fine mind and the capacity to achieve anything. And he wants to waste that talent on prospecting, flying around the fringe worlds, and associating with backwater hicks and Kel-Morian pirates? It’s no life for a Mengsk. We’re made for bigger and better things than that.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say that was arrogance speaking,” said Katherine.
“You know it’s not, though,” countered Angus. “I know you see it too—you’ve told the boy often enough that he can be great if he wants to be.”
“That’s just it, isn’t it? It has to be if he wants it. You should know by now you can’t make Arcturus do anything he doesn’t want to. The more you try and force him down a path, the more he’ll resist you.”
“Willful,” said Angus again, though his tone was mellow this time.
“Just as you were,” pointed out Katherine. “Until you met me.”
Angus took a drink of wine and leaned down to kiss her. “Then let’s just hope that the women in his life are as wise and calming as you.”
Katherine smiled at him, and Angus Mengsk knew he was the luckiest man alive.
* * *
The assembly hall had been transformed.
On every other day, it was an austere, cold place of announcements, the news of sports results, and dull speeches, but now it was a place of festivities. Hundreds of students filled the hall, drinking, dancing, and reveling in the sheer fun of the day. Of course, the only topic of conversation was Steegman’s arrest and Arcturus’s part in his downfall.
Music pounded from the stage, colorful lights flashed from the ceiling, streamers trailed from every wall, and even the portraits had been hung with fake beards and noses.
The ball’s theme was aliens from another world, and a floating banner of light shone with the words: “Class of ’78! They Came From the Stars!”
Papier-mâché creatures of all descriptions hung from the roof beams on wires, reared from punch bowls, or emerged from lovingly detailed lairs set against the walls.
The students’ imaginations had run riot and the past week had seen a frenzy of creation in the art classes. A carnival of grotesque creatures filled the assembly hall: giant lizards, bulbous floating jellyfish with multiple eyes, snakelike creatures with whipping tails and tentacles for mouths. At the edge of the stage, sharklike creatures mingled with hairy, multilegged spiders with long necks and terrifying mandibles.
Arcturus knew the subject of alien life had been an obsession with mankind ever since it had first looked up into the night sky in fear and wonder. Thus the abject failure of the Confederacy’s science and exploration vessels to find any sign of surviving intelligent alien life was a source of constant frustration to those who believed that the human race was not alone in the galaxy.
Of course, a few explorers were said to have unearthed ancient ruins they claimed were the remnants of alien civilizations, but most people believed these to be elaborate hoaxes. Then there were the big insect creatures on Umoja, which had been domesticated by the people of that world, but they hardly counted as intelligent life.
Even the band was dressed in alien costumes, made up with latex prosthetics to look like fearsome creatures with gnarled foreheads, long hair, and jagged, spiky armor. The effect was more comic than frightening—something Arcturus suspected was half the point.
He normally detested such events, but had to admit he was enjoying himself immensely.
Perhaps he was still on a high from this afternoon’s unmasking of Steegman’s crimes. After all, it had been deeply satisfying to see the odious little man led away, and he had made sure the principal knew exactly who’d uncovered his crimes and destroyed his life.
It might also have been due to the attractive girl on his arm, for Juliana Pasteur was, without fear of contradiction, the most beautiful creature in the room.
But, if he was honest, Arcturus knew it was none of these things—it was the acclaim accorded him by his fellow students and the near worship in which he was now held. His former status of pariah had been forgotten now that Steegman was gone, and Arcturus suddenly occupied a position more akin to a war hero.
It was quite intoxicating.
“Arcturus?” said Juliana as the volume of the music dropped.
“Hmmm?” he said.
“You looked miles away,” she said, offering him a glass of punch.
“Sorry,” he said with a winning smile, accepting the glass as he returned his attention to the beautiful girl standing next to him.
Juliana Pasteur wore an ankle-length gown of ivory silk with a velveteen bodice that hugged her budding figure and which accentuated her delicate features. Blonde hair spilled around her bare shoulders in golden ringlets and a fine silver necklace set with an Umojan sapphire hung down her neck.
He took a sip of the punch and raised an eyebrow. “There’s alcohol in this.”
Juliana nodded. “I saw some students emptying some bottles in earlier, but I don’t think anyone’s going to mind. Not after today.”
“No,” Arcturus grinned. “I suppose not.”
Juliana took his hand and smiled at him. Over the months they had corresponded, he had reveled in the power he seemed to have over her, but with her here next to him, he now fully appreciated the reality of what he had done.
Everything in Juliana’s body language told Arcturus that she had fallen for him, which was ridiculous given the few times they had actually met. Truth be told, he didn’t know quite what to do with that, for, while he liked her and found her engaging company, he certainly didn’t reciprocate the strength of her feelings.
“Dance with me,” said Juliana as the band struck up the opening bars of a song with a more relaxed tempo that saw couples all over the room make their way to the dance floor. With no chaperones present, the students of Styrling Academy weren’t about to waste this opportunity for some dancing that involved full body contact.
“Dance?” said Arcturus. “I don’t think that—”
Juliana took his drink from him before he could protest, then put her own down as well.
“That wasn’t a request,” she said, leading him onto the dance floor.
Arcturus followed her, nervous at the prospect of making a fool of himself, but pleased at the attention he and Juliana were garnering. Arcturus had to admit they made an attractive couple, Juliana in her ivory gown and he in his exquisitely cut tuxedo and golden cummerbund.
The idea of kissing her leapt to the forefront of his mind and suddenly the idea of dancing close to Juliana didn’t seem nearly so bad.
She turned to face him, holding up her arms. “You do dance, don’t you?”
“Not for a long time,” he admitted, taking her left hand and placing his right hand on her hip. “My mother made me take lessons when I was young, in preparation for my entrance into society. I always hated them.”
“Don’t worry,” promised Juliana, moving his hand to her backside. “You’ll be fine.”
“I fear I may not be the dancer you hope for.”
“Trust me, Arcturus, it’ll all come back.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you if I trample those expensive shoes.”
Juliana smiled, and they began to move in time with the music. Arcturus thought he’d forgotten the steps of those long-ago lessons, but, sure enough, after his first faltering steps, he began to move with the music instead of against it. He and Juliana flowed naturally into the rhythm of their shared movement, and he felt like he’d just stepped out of dance class.
A series of dancers spun past them, the girls offering compliments to Juliana on her outfit and the boys hearty congratulations to Arcturus for having Steegman sent down.
“They really like you here,” said Juliana, looking up at him. “You must be sad to leave.”
Arcturus laughed and shook his head. “Not even a little bit,” he said.
“Really? I think I’m going to be sad when I leave the Umoja Institute next year.”
“That’s because you are well liked and don’t have a troublesome, embarrassing father.”
“Well, since you’re so glad to get out of school, what are you going to do with yourself?”
Arcturus didn’t answer at first, wondering how much he should tell her of his plans for the future, for she clearly wanted to be part of them.
“I still want to be a prospector,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s what I’ll do first.”
“No? Then what?” said Juliana, pressing herself closer to him.
“I think I might join the Marine Corps.”
Juliana looked up sharply at him. “The Marine Corps?”
“Yes, I think it would be good to have some military service on my record,” said Arcturus.
Arcturus could see she was uncomfortable about his joining the Marines, but whether it was from any concern for his safety or through moral objections, he couldn’t yet tell.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I … I’m not sure,” said Juliana. “It sounds dangerous, but if it’s what you want to do …”
“It’s a stepping-stone, nothing more,” said Arcturus. “It’s not like I plan to stay in the military. Once I’m done I’ll muster out and be a prospector, just like I always planned.”
“Your father won’t like it.”
“I don’t give a damn if he likes it or not,” snapped Arcturus. “It’s my life and I’ll do what I want, not what he thinks I ought to do. I’ll be eighteen next week and there’s nothing he can do to stop me.”
Juliana looked into his eyes, seeing the steely determination there, and nodded. “Then I think it’s wonderful. I just know you’ll be the best soldier they’ve ever had.”
Arcturus wanted to laugh at how easily Juliana had come around to his way of thinking, despite the anti-Confederate propaganda her father was no doubt feeding her.
“You’ll be a general within six months,” she said. “My hero.”
Sensing a moment of opportunity, Arcturus let go of Juliana’s hand and tilted her chin upward with a light touch of his fingertips. She guessed what he was doing and closed her eyes, her lips parting slightly as he leaned in.
Their lips met, and they kissed.
Juliana’s skin was warm to the touch and her lips were soft. She held him tightly, as though afraid to let him go, and the students closest to them cheered at the sight.
Arcturus felt a surge of vindication at the sound, understanding exactly what it meant.
It meant he could have anything he wanted.
CHAPTER 6
THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE LINED SENATORS’ PARADE, the marble-paved street that led from the Martial Field to the Palatine Forum. Their cheers were deafening, and Achton Feld had to concentrate to hear the updates from his men over the mike nestled in his ear.
He had been awake since dawn, overseeing the last-minute preparations for Angus Mengsk’s walk through the heart of the city. After the attack on the summer villa, Feld had increased security around the senator, but this had been the moment he had been dreading for weeks.
Angus’s natural disregard for any threats to his person had given Feld dozens of sleepless nights as he worried about Confederate assassins, lone nutcases, or simply a zealous supporter of Lennox Craven. To watch for such a threat, Feld had men spread throughout the crowd, equipped with detectors attuned to the spectral frequency of the alloys used in the ammo of slugthrowers and spike pistols.
That would detect the most common firearms, but he knew that if anyone in the crowd carried a more sophisticated weapon, it would need to be visually recognized.
The atmosphere was electric and the mood of the crowd was jubilant (which was something to be thankful for) as they awaited Angus’s arrival. Today was the final day of the Korhal Senate’s sitting for the year, and it was traditional for a senator chosen by popular acclaim to deliver the Close of Session speech.
Ever since he had taken a stand against the tyranny of Confederate rule, it had been clear that it would be Angus Mengsk the people of Korhal would choose to deliver the speech.
Feld looked along the length of Senators’ Parade, steel barriers keeping the crowd from the road. Banners with Angus’s name on them were held high alongside flags with the wolf-head emblem of the Mengsk family crest. The route itself was clear and the gleaming white structure of the Forum shone like a beacon of light at its end. The roof blazed in the summer sunlight as though afire, and even Feld had to admit that it was an impressive sight.
All being well, Angus would walk through the great oaken doors of the Forum and stand before the assembled senators and visiting planetary dignitaries to deliver his speech. And after that … well, after that, the dynamic between Korhal and the Confederacy would be changed forever.
