Chapter 22

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It was just as dim beyond the door, but not as silent; voices murmured, things beeped and crackled and hummed. What little light Jon could see over Ellia's shoulder as she peered into the next room flickered and shifted color from moment to moment. She looked in, then turned to Jon and made a shushing gestured before stepping slowly through the doorway.

When Jon followed, he found himself in a large room packed to the ceiling with electronics. Vidscreens formed a semi-circle at the far end of the room, above a control board aglow with lights. The voices came from there, as well, but there was no one in the room except for one man, his back to them, seated in a thickly padded chair in front of the control board. There were other control boards and chairs behind him, between him and Jon and Ellia, but the chairs were empty, the control boards unmanned.

Jon and Ellia picked their way toward the lone man, who appeared completely unaware of them, but before they'd covered half the distance he leaned forward, said, "Welcome," and touched a control.

The room suddenly blazed with light, stabbing pain into Jon's night-adjusted eyes. He threw up his arm to shade them, and through tears saw the man at the control board turn around.

Carlson!

"You didn't really think you could sneak in here, did you?" he said. "There's a surveillance camera out front. I saw you kill my guards. It's only a matter of minutes before others arrive."

"Hello, father," Ellia said.

"Daughter." Carlson gestured. "What do you think of my redecorating?"

"I couldn't figure out why you'd come back here," said Ellia. "You always said you never would. You said the things in this house reminded you too much of Mother." She gestured at the room. "You took care of that problem, didn't you?"

"The things in this house that belonged to your mother are now in the Governor's mansion where I can see them whenever I wish," Carlson said harshly. "Where I can remember that your mother was murdered by the parents of this young man and those like him. You could have come see them at any time. Perhaps you still may...I might be willing to grant you an occasional pass from prison."

Jon raised his rifle. "Seems to me you're in no position to make threats," he said coldly. "You may have guards on the way—if they're not all busy elsewhere—but we have the guns here and now. I can't think of a better hostage than the Planetary Governor." He paused. "And for the record, my parents had nothing to do with the O'Neill Colony bombing."

"Commonwealth intelligence information says otherwise, Jon Barrett." Carlson studied him like he might a poisonous reptile. "I should have killed you when I had you in that hospital. There'll be no prison for you, you know; public execution would be best, I think. Your followers will go back to work camps, where they belong; but you've caused far too much trouble." He leaned against the back of his chair and crossed his arms. "As for taking me hostage, that's not going to do you much good when this house is surrounded. The most you'll be able to do is kill me, and then you'll die seconds later. I assure you, my government is quite capable of carrying on without me."

"Your government," Ellia said, "is running scared."

Carlson looked amused. "Scared? Of you?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. You rushed all those troops down to the communications center, and then you fled the mansion—you already knew we'd managed to get in there once—to hole up in this secret command center. You didn't think Jon could find it. You didn't know I was with him.

"You wouldn't have been so quick to run if you weren't scared of something. What, father? What's been happening we don't know about? Desertions in the army? Riots in the street? That would explain the streetsweepers...feeling your hold on power growing a little shaky? People fed up with the rulers getting rich while they're almost starving?"

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