Chapter 23: Ancestry

Ellie stared at the dark green composite of the bulkhead.

The Feds hadn't even bothered with limiters. She, and the Algreil Aerospace employees with her, knew better than to try anything. Civilian uprisings against destroyer crews generally fared poorly.

Two destroyer crews, she thought, laughing and sobbing a little at the idea.

So much firepower, so many men, so much trouble – all over Chloe Hughes.

Ellie missed her so much.

She realized she was letting her thoughts wander and forced them back into line. She didn't dare think too much, or else she'd start comparing her present captivity to the one she'd endured during the Civil War. A decade and a half later, she still couldn't bear to think about those awful months in a Federal VCL – Valuable Confiscated Livestock – camp.

She shuddered.

A gruff voice pierced the fog of unwanted memories. "You're the cat Jack ended up with, eh?"

Ellie glanced to her right. A grizzled older man in an Algreil mechanic's uniform shared the cell with her.

"I'm Jack's wife," she said. She wanted to muster righteous wrath, but the appearance of the second destroyer and being separated from her husband left her too tired to try.

"So they tell me," the mechanic said. He extended a rough hand, almost as big as Jack's. "Name's Boss."

Ellie smiled weakly and shook the offered hand. At least he made the attempt, unlike his Oligarchical boss. "Ellie," she said. "Is that your actual name?"

"A man's name is what people call him, Ma'am," the mechanic said. "And people call me Boss."

"I doubt the Feds will."

He shrugged. "They can call me dog shit for all I care. Bastards all, that lot. Begging your pardon for the language."

Ellie nodded. If they'd only left Chloe alone! She couldn't hurt a fly, much less the 'peace and equality of the Federated Stars.'

Boss said, "You're that girl's mother, too."

Ellie looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Chloe Hughes. The one the fuss is all about." He whistled. "She must be really something special."

"She sure is," Ellie said.

"I'd'a never guessed it to look at her," Boss said.

Ellie's eyes lit up. She reached across the cell and grabbed the mechanic's big hands. "You've seen my daughter?" Horror filled her. "Is she here?"

"Not here, Ma'am," Boss said. "At the tournament, though I didn't know it then, of course. The Feds raked me over the coals on the matter, not that I could tell 'em a bit they didn't already know."

"She was with Ot… Mr. Algreil's brother, right?"

Boss nodded. "Mr. Rudolf paraded her around like his own special prize – not that I blame him, mind, for she's a right pretty thing, a genuine classy lady. Not a bit like his usual fangirls."

Ellie winced. She recalled Otto Algreil's description of his brother. The responsibility of a five year old and the testosterone of a fifteen year old. "There must be some mistake," she said. "It's only been…"

She realized she'd lost track of time while under the influence of the Algreil limiters. "How long ago did your company take me and Jack?"

"Four weeks," Boss said.

"Chloe wouldn't hook up with some man in just a month," Ellie snapped.

"As to that, I can't say," Boss said. "I got the impression she didn't give him anything more'n a smile and a kind word, if that's what's worrying you."

Ellie breathed a sigh of relief.

"She did seem mighty attached to Mr. Rudolf, though," Boss continued. "I'm not sure I'd have had the guts to climb into the cockpit of that deathtrap and pull the poor fool out. She didn't even hesitate."

"Chloe would help anyone, Boss," Ellie said. "That's how Jack and I raised her. But frankly, we didn't have to do much to steer her down the right track. She's a wonderful girl."

"You're spacers, aren't you? Jack was, I know, and I can tell it rubbed off on you." Boss grinned. "Speaking as someone who used to be before he got suckered into the 'corporate family,' forgive me if I say I hope your Chloe stays attached to Mr. Rudolf."

So Boss was a spacer himself? His casual attitude toward hybrids – from the automatic, unthinking slur 'cat' to 'Ma'am' in just one sentence – was typical of the free traders, smugglers and salvagers who lived a nomadic existence among the stars.

Wishing what sounded like a fate worse than death on another spacer's daughter, on the other hand, seemed quite out of character. She asked, "Why?"

"'Cause Mr. Rudolf, if you'll pardon my saying so, Ma'am, could use a good woman to settle him down."

Ellie laughed. "I don't doubt that, Boss. You'll forgive me, though, if I say I hope he finds someone other than my daughter."

Before the mechanic could answer, the door to their cell slid open.

Three Federal Marines, their composite body armor almost a perfect miniature of the line mecha, filled the doorway. They parted to allow a navy officer to pass. Ellie, used to flight suits, barely recognized the uniform coat and trousers of a capital ship's crew. Only the Ouroboros on his chest told her he was a Fed.

"This felid is the one?" the navy man asked.

One of the marines saluted. "Yes, sir."

The navy man glared at Ellie. "What kind of man," he said, "calls a creature like this his wife? This Jack Hughes must be some kind of deviant."

Ellie wondered if he realized she could understand him. She wondered if he wanted to provoke her.

Boss's hand tightened on her arm. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

He needn't have worried. It took more than petty insults to get Ellie's hackles up. She'd faced far, far worse the last time she enjoyed Federal hospitality.

"I am Ellie Hughes," she said calmly. She rose and presented her unbound hands. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

The naval man recoiled as though slapped. Apparently he'd never heard a hybrid speak before. Ignorant, then, rather than actively trying to provoke.

"You, uh, can come with us. The Admiral wants to see you."

"I understand." Ellie spoke precisely, enunciating each syllable, making sure the Fed heard just how well she could speak. Let him ruminate on that for a while. Someday, he might understand, too.

First time for everything.

"Shall we go, Sir?" Ellie asked, dripping faux-politeness.

The naval man cleared his throat. "Y, yes. This way." He took a step back to allow the marines to flank her, as though he expected her to go berserk and tear him apart. Maybe he did.

Ellie couldn't entirely blame him for his nerves. She doubted he'd ever seen combat before, and the Reformer, at least, had surely lost crew to the Algreil fission cannon.

"You be careful, Ma'am," Boss called. "Jack and that girl of yours will be expecting you back when this mess gets sorted."

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"I will, Boss." She smiled back at the mechanic, accepted his flashed thumbs-up. "You take care, too."

She wanted to thank him, but didn't have time to find the words.

He'd seen Chloe firsthand! He'd thought her impressively brave – though Ellie wished she hadn't risked herself – and a good match for his employer's brother. He was a spacer, too, a man whose opinion Ellie could respect.

Chloe would be okay. Even if she couldn't reunite with her parents, she'd find a way to survive and a life of her own.

Chloe had to be okay.

Ellie found herself almost smiling as she followed the marines and the naval man down the dark halls of the destroyer. They led her to a series of tubes much like a Wellachan gravlev station and guided her to one. The right one, she assumed, though how they navigated the maze of their immense ship she couldn't begin to guess.

Like a gravlev, the little car they escorted her to hovered above the floor and dampened what had to be phenomenal acceleration. Ellie barely had time to register the dozen tangled tube stations they passed before at last coming to a stop. If she'd had some hope of navigating the hallways, the tubes left her completely confused.

Her acute senses, confused by the images flashing past, made her slightly queasy. They told her she should be suffering inertia enough to squish her against the walls of the car, yet she felt nothing. She paused to steady herself before disembarking.

"Hurry it up, cat," the navy man growled. "The admiral is waiting."

Ellie's ear twitched. So much for improving his opinion of hybrids.

She did as he asked, though. Antagonizing him could only cause more trouble.

Fortunately, they walked down only a few block's worth of hallways before stopping at a pair of double doors.

"Inside," the navy man said.

Ellie approached the doors. They slid open to reveal what she at first took for a secondary bridge. A huge screen filled one wall, displaying the view outside the destroyer: Wellach's stratosphere, the color of Chloe's eyes, broken up by the lights of the Reformer parked beside its sister ship. The destroyers must have risen after the battle. Did they fear a reprisal? Did Algreil Aerospace have the resources to pull one off?

Since Jack's fate rested with his former company now, Ellie hoped they had the resources, but chose not to use them. He'd endangered himself enough for one day without flying off on some damn fool rescue mission.

"Mrs. Hughes," said the man seated at the center of the room. His voice immediately commanded her attention, even more in person than through the speakers in Otto Algreil's office. Rich, melodic, almost hypnotic – and familiar. The voice of Marcel Avalon, the Divine Auric Drake. "Please come in."

Mechanically, Ellie stepped into the room.

Her escorts followed. "Admiral," the navy man said, saluting smartly.

Admiral Avalon's chair swiveled. His hair was plastered to his head by sweat, he wore a smudged flight suit in place of a naval uniform, dark circles ringed his amber eyes, blood daubed his chin – and he still took Ellie's breath away.

I'm getting too old to react like this, she thought. Then, thank the Principle he wasn't the one to capture Chloe! Ellie couldn't have blamed her daughter for falling for the admiral's extraordinary charms.

"I've brought the 'breed," her navy escort said, "as per your request."

Avalon rose. He towered over Ellie and the navy man and stood taller even than the marines in their body armor.

The navy man shrank back from his superior's glare.

"I did not ask you to bring 'the 'breed,' Lieutenant," Avalon said. "I asked you to bring Ellie Hughes, the wife of a Civil War hero. I see you have, apparently by mistake, fulfilled your orders. Fortunate, as I find myself somewhat short of patience under the circumstances."

His voice was more than intoxicating, Ellie decided. He expressed menace as convincingly as he did appeal. He must have trained in some memetic art to tap into the human brain at the most elemental level.

The navy man stammered out a "Sir" and a shaky salute.

"You are dismissed, gentlemen," Avalon said. "I would speak with Mrs. Hughes alone."

His subordinates vanished, leaving Ellie alone with their admiral.

She realized she should be terrified of Avalon, realized she wasn't only because his extraordinary voice had been tuned to put her at ease rather than frighten her. He could not control her mind the way a powerful telepath might – she hoped – but he could influence her emotions so powerfully as to come close.

Recognizing the manipulation gave her some small defense against it.

She hoped.

"Please, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said, "make yourself comfortable. I cannot begin to apologize for the anguish I have caused your family, but at least accept such hospitality as I can offer."

Ellie sank into one of the chairs. The reactive gel startled her, conforming to the contours of her body until she felt more comfortable than she had in – how long? A decade and a half, at least, since she'd enjoyed this kind of seat.

She rebelled against the comfort as she did Avalon's voice. All tricks, she was sure, to get her to betray Chloe.

She said, "If you want me to tell you where Chloe is, Admiral, you're wasting your time. You know as much as me. She's apparently with the younger Algreil brother."

"I did hope you could tell me," Avalon said, "but that is not why I asked you here."

"Why, then?"

"As I said – to apologize."

"You can't mean that."

"No?" He raised a platinum eyebrow. "On the contrary, Mrs. Hughes. What's been done to your family shames me. You have been separated, and now that separation may have become permanent."

Ellie's response froze on her lips. Jack? Or Chloe?

Oh, Principle, no. Not that, not either of them, please –

She whispered, "What do you mean?"

"Did your husband fly with the Devil Rays this afternoon, Mrs. Hughes?"

Ellie didn't answer.

"Six of their number fell," Avalon said, "but my men have found only three – all dead, none of them Jack Hughes or Otto Algreil. I confess, the mechaneer in me hopes I have faced such legends and prevailed, and the man in me prays your husband at least escaped the engagement."

Jack would survive. He'd promised he would come back.

But Admiral Avalon didn't have to know that. She said, "You believe Jack would fight against the Senate? He's always been loyal, always a patriot. He believed in your damned government, Admiral, and what has it gotten him?"

"Then I am truly sorry, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said, "for if your husband did not fight and is not among our captives, then he is surely dead."

"W, what…?"

"Otto Algreil rigged his arcology's supply of fission bombs to explode once his people escaped. All those who attempted escape by sea were tracked and apprehended by this ship, the Constitution." Avalon closed his eyes. "I lost many of my best mechaneers to the blast, and anyone still on the arcology died with them. Had the Reformer alone been present to redirect the blast, we might all have died."

No one had remained in the Algreil facility, Ellie knew. She found herself wanting to tell Avalon as much, to assuage what guilt she could.

She reminded herself the admiral had plenty to answer for.

"So, if your husband did not fight, there is no hope for him." Avalon hung his head. "Principle! I always admired Jack Hughes as a man of courage and conviction. A man I would have been honored to call friend – and now I find myself confessing to his wife I was the catalyst of his death!"

"How could you imagine you could call him friend, Admiral, when you want to take his daughter away? When you send Animus Hunters to terrify her – to terrify all of us?"

"I did not send Errard Zelph," Avalon said. He strode to Ellie's side and bowed deeply. "Mrs. Hughes, you must believe me. The Senate is divided – terribly divided – and your daughter has become the catalyst for this division. President Ferrill personally dispatched me to find your daughter before the likes of Errard Zelph, or Otto Algreil, could."

Ellie frowned. "I don't understand."

"Your daughter, Mrs. Hughes, could cause terrible harm." Avalon held up a hand to forestall Ellie's rejoinder. "I know what you'll say. That she would not do so. That you have raised her right, taught her faithfulness and humility. I believe you, as does President Ferrill.

"There are those, however, who would not ask your daughter for her power, or accept that she will not use it." Avalon raised his mesmerizing leonine eyes. "They would compel her power, Mrs. Hughes, or steal it. They would shake the peace and equality of our galaxy to the core with such power, and unleash a terrible evil on every man, woman and child within it – your daughter most of all.

"I came here to prevent this tragedy," Avalon continued. "Instead, I have caused nothing but more tragedies. I have shattered your family and your confidence in the Federated Stars, driven your husband to one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy and your daughter to that man's brother. Principle! Mrs. Hughes, I wanted to apologize, but can I but beg your forgiveness?"

"Who am I to grant you forgiveness," Ellie asked. She leaned forward and stretched her hand toward his tensed shoulder.

She jerked her hand back, horrified.

In minutes, Avalon had compelled such closeness as Ellie had felt only a handful of times in her life.

She couldn't fight his memetic manipulation, she realized. Avalon had her wrapped around his little finger, and she knew it, and she couldn't stop it. When he asked for sympathy, instincts coded into her brain, to her very nervous system, demanded she give it.

She wasn't even sure he intended it.

Principle! What was Marcel Avalon?

"You are someone I have wronged, Mrs. Hughes – Ellie." He clasped her hand and pressed his forehead to her fingers. "Now, because of my mistakes, I may have to do you still more wrong. I must beg forgiveness not only for what I have done – for making an enemy of your family – but for what I may yet do. I must stop your daughter from using her power against the Senate, Ellie, and the Principle only knows how or by what means."

"What power, Admiral?" Ellie demanded. "I know Chloe's a noblewoman, but she's hardly unique in that regard. What makes her so important to you and the Senate and the Animus Hunters?" And to Otto Abeir Algreil?

"You truly don't know?"

"I don't," Ellie said.

"Your Chloe is far more than a noblewoman, Ellie." Avalon raised his eyes to hers. He smiled sadly. "She is the sole heir to the Astroykos Empire."