Chapter 42: First Among Equals
"You should have waited until you made a full recovery before giving your report, Marcel," President Rhetta Ferrill said sternly. "You know I'd never blame you for looking after yourself."
The President of the Federal Senate, First Among Equals and the closest thing the galaxy had to a ruler, was a short, thin woman with severely-cut brown hair and a loose, groundling-style suit that seemed to have been tailored to match her hairdo. She had a stiff posture and a trace of a harsh accent from her heavily urbanized homeworld, Raypoint.
She had nearly exploded from behind her desk when Ellie and Avalon entered, and hovered over the admiral like a mother hen.
Ellie found the contrast surprisingly charming, and wondered if it had helped Ferrill to her present position.
"My condition is stable, Madame President," Avalon said. "Even if it had not been, however, I felt it necessary to report to you in person. And to accept full responsibility."
Ferrill frowned at the statement, then at Ellie. The president seemed somewhat annoyed at Ellie, though she didn't know if it was because she was intruding on what Ferrill thought should be a private meeting or because she was a hybrid. "And this is?"
"Ellie Hughes," Avalon said. "The wife of former Colonel Jack Hughes of the Algreil Devil Rays, adoptive mother to the young woman we believe to be the heir to the Astroykos Dynasty."
Immediately, Ferrill's expression brightened. "My apologies, then, Mrs. Hughes. In my distress at poor Marcel's condition, I've neglected an important guest." She extended a hand, which Ellie reluctantly shook.
"Er, thank you, Ma'am," Ellie said, surprised at the warm reception.
"I suppose you think we have a great deal more to apologize for," Ferrill said. She sighed. "I suppose you're right."
Ellie didn't respond. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but apologies certainly didn't rank high on the list.
But then, nothing about her arrival in Etemenos had gone how she expected. Avalon had whisked her to the very heart of the world-city’s silvery core, to the hub of galactic power, with no guards and him incapacitated. Even now, the closest security forces waited outside of Ferrill’s office, separated by a corridor long enough to benefit from its surface flowing to or from the door.
Avalon had behaved as though he trusted Ellie. Ferrill had behaved as though she accepted his judgment unconditionally.
Did that mean they were telling the truth about their plans for Chloe – or lack thereof?
Or that they were very dedicated to appearing so?
Ellie tried to focus her acute senses on the problem, but surprise clouded her judgment. Besides, she had no way of knowing how good of a liar Ferrill was. She was, after all, a politician. Ellie had a spacer's distrust of the breed, coupled with a hybrid's loathing of the Federal Senate.
"The preliminary report I received said the Reformer fired on your adopted daughter's transport," Ferrill said. "Is that true, Marcel?"
"It is."
"Why?"
Avalon tried to hang his head. It didn't go far. "I do not know, Ma'am."
"Why not?"
"I was engaged in single combat with the Black Rook – Stephan Kyrillos – at the time."
"Then the decision was made by your first officer, Captain Little?" Ellie suspected she only noticed the edge that crept into Ferrill's voice because of her felid hearing. The contrast between the president's friendly demeanor and her harsh accent seemed to hide a lot of emotion.
"The responsibility does not lie with Captain Little," Avalon said. "He made a judgment call. In his place, I would probably have done the same."
"Under other, better circumstances," Ferrill said, "that would be left to a court martial to decide."
"These are not 'better circumstances,' Ma'am."
"Of course not." Ferrill scowled and looked away. "They would want to pin a medal on the good captain, in any case."
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Ellie cocked her head. "If you'll pardon my asking, Ma'am – why wouldn't you?"
Avalon and Ferrill both turned to look at Ellie as if they'd forgotten she was in the room.
Or as if they wanted her to think they had.
Ellie's head hurt from trying to figure out the layers of deception she might be snared in, not least because she couldn't even be sure they existed in the first place.
"Don't get me wrong," she continued, "I'm glad you apparently want Chloe to be safe. But from where I'm standing, it seems like you're crazy to want that. If you'd left her alone, she never would have hurt anyone, but as angry as she must be, with the aristocracy teaching her, why in the world don't you want my daughter dead?"
"She has a right to be angry," Ferrill said. "She has already lost one set of parents to actions precipitated by the Federal Senate, and as far as she knows is well on her way to losing a second set."
Ellie cocked her head. "That's... kind of my point, Ma'am."
"Is not the purpose of the senate to prevent that sort of injustice?"
“How do you plan to manage that?” Ellie asked.
“By redressing the wrongs done her in the past,” Ferrill said. “By giving her the chance to right others.”
"You want her to take back her throne?"
"Of course not. Whatever claims your daughter might decide to press, Mrs. Hughes, we are not about to sacrifice the peace and equality of the galaxy for her sake. However, if she is, as I have every reason to suspect, a reasonable young woman, we can reach a mutually beneficial settlement with her." Ferrill turned away. Her hands, clasped behind her back, clenched so tightly she seemed about to cut off circulation to her fingers. "At least, that was my original hope."
"Madame President…" Avalon's medical chair drifted closer to her.
"My hope," Ferrill repeated, clearing her throat, "was that your daughter would accept a ceremonial role in the new government. That in doing so, she would restore relations with the Periphery and reintegrate the aristocratic colonies there. That the 'peace and equality of the galaxy' I'm so fond of speaking of would actually exist."
"I thought you people believed it already did."
"Do you believe that, Mrs. Hughes?" Ferrill's hand drifted up to almost brush against one of Ellie's pointed ears. Apparently, she realized the gesture would have been patronizing from a stranger, because her fingers halted in mid-air. She'd made her point anyway, not that she'd needed to.
"No, Ma'am," Ellie said quietly. "I don't believe what I know isn't true."
"A rare gift," Ferrill said. "My experience is that most people believe what they want to be true, my illustrious colleagues unfortunately included. They like to believe the important work is done, for instance. No matter that hybrids are enslaved in all but name and nobles exiled on pain of death, no matter that oligarchs are raised higher than the old aristocracy ever was."
"So change it. You're the president, right?"
"A president is not a dictator, Mrs. Hughes, much less an empress. My power is limited to vetoing such measures as my colleagues can be bothered to bring forward if they would make things worse. Without broad political support, I cannot change anything."
"And Chloe could? You said you wanted a figurehead, not a ruler."
"Figureheads have power, too, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said. "More power than rulers, sometimes. They control hearts rather than bodies."
"Sounds like a pretty good deal," Ellie said. And if it were true, it actually would be. Chloe would probably accept the offer if she thought she could do real good, especially for hybrids.
Let's see, Ellie thought, if they mean it.
"In fact," she said, "I'll tell Chloe everything you just told me – as soon as I find her."
"That's rather our responsibility at this point, Mrs. Hughes," Avalon said. "We have the resources –"
"But Chloe doesn't want you to find her. Your best chance to do so is to let me go and look for her." And decide if I should recommend she see you once my head is a whole lot clearer, Ellie added in her thoughts.
Besides, she looked at her request as a test.
"I'm afraid that's not possible, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said.
Test failed. As expected. "Why? Am I a prisoner here?"
"Of course not," Avalon said.
Ferrill sighed. "Actually, Marcel, she probably should be."
"Why, Ma'am? On what grounds would we hold Ellie, even if we wanted to?"
"We would not hold her," Ferrill said. She heaved a sigh and returned to her desk. "The rest of the Senate, and Etemenos System Security, would not be so kind, and they have all the grounds they need."
"Because I'm a hybrid," Ellie said, thinking she understood.
The President of the Federal Senate barked a laugh. "Ironically no, Mrs. Hughes. For all the injustice your kind faces courtesy of your uncertain legal status, I'm afraid in this case Marcel and I are the ones acting with uncertain legality."
"On what grounds would Ellie be held?" Avalon demanded. Quickly, he added, "Ma'am."
"Sedition in a time of war," Ferrill said, "which the Reformer's logs confirm. And suspicion of conspiracy to commit treason."
"Conspiracy with who?" Ellie asked.
"With your husband, Mrs. Hughes," Ferrill said. "As he is, at the moment, with the vanguard of the fleet Marcel is about to make war on."