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words to Carlos, though they were the youngest Solomons here. This guy was a hothead, and Michael saw what happened to reckless hotheads on both Earths. Still, nothing Carlos said seemed out of bounds.

He rose. “If I can throw in my ten cents?”

“Go ahead, Michael,” Matthias said. “We’ll hear from everyone.”

“Carlos, dude, you ain’t wrong. I’ll tell you that. How many of you ever seen peacekeepers up close in combat?”

Rikard, who was on Seneca two years ago with Michael and Sammie, raised his hand. No one else.

“I’ve been there twice,” Michael continued. “Both times, they came to my rescue, so I was mighty damn impressed. That was some cool shit. Until it weren’t. They slaughtered dudes like fucking machines. In three days, they turned a guy I used to call a friend into one of them. He wasn’t the same anymore. Even said he wanted to kill.

“You see, that’s the mindset. They’re killers through and through. If you ain’t a Chancellor, your life ain’t worth a nickel. Look at us. We don’t look like them, we ain’t built like them. Compared to those assholes, we’re … well, we’re hobbits.” He responded to the instant confusion. “Long story about those guys. Guess my point is: We go head-to-head with those fuckers, we’re dead. They won’t give a shit. We need a plan like nobody’s had in a thousand years. Any ideas?”

Maya Fontaine raised her hand. “Are we sure the Chancellory will go along with this?” Amid murmurs and rolled eyes, she continued. “Hear me out, please. I have no love for these people. They’ve brought more misery to my life than you’ll ever know. However, we must take into account numbers. There are six hundred million Chancellors on Earth, and ninety million of us. Yet the civil war has been fought by a few descendancies. Most Chancellors live without fear of repercussion, just as ninety-five percent of Solomons have never participated in the equity movement. I have to wonder: Where do the majorities stand?”

Quizzical eyes turned to Matthias and Rikard, who responded.

“You’re asking if we put our case to the people, will they form a wall between us and the Guard?”

“Or,” Carlos interjected, “will they step aside so the Guard can throw us against a wall and shoot us?”

Raimi Inhofe laughed, but he didn’t intend to be funny.

“I have to say it, folks. Just about every Solomon I’ve ever known goes along to get along. And the Chancellors? They’re scared out of their wits. They’re a dying people and they know it. They give an inch, and they take a few more years off their future.”

Maya’s tone darkened. “Are you suggesting we have no allies?”

“Reliable? No.”

Michael wagged a finger. “But how many do we actually need? If we had the right Chancellors on our side … you know, the ones pulling the biggest strings … we might have a shot.”

“And what freaks of nature will defy their own Chancellory?”

Michael shared a wistful glance with Rikard and Matthias. When Rikard nodded, Michael took a chance.

“A lot of you aren’t from the eastern quadrant, but maybe you’ve heard of Finnegan Moss?” A few nods, more eye rolls, and Matthias leaning in, whispering to Rikard. “Some us of here saved the man’s life a while back. We’ve been working with him. He sympathizes with the movement, and he has connections everywhere.”

Carlos interrupted. “Was he Guard?”

“Yes, but … he’s not onboard with how they operate. He regrets his tour of duty. Yeah, yeah. I know you got doubts. But look, I can count the number of Chancellors I’ve ever trusted on one hand. Probably the same for you. Finnegan, I trust. And I know there’s gotta be more like him. Like Maya said, there’s six hundred million on Earth. We only need a few. They’ll do the rest.”

Michael thought he’d struck an optimistic blow, but neither Rikard nor Matthias smiled. What did I miss?

“OK,” Carlos said. “Let’s say you’re right and we get these people on our side. Then what? Are they gonna walk into the GPM and make the Admiralty rescind their orders? And even if they do, what about the assassins? We don’t know who organized them or what they look like. At least with the Guard, we can see the red armor from a mile away.”

Matthias stopped Michael from responding.

“Actually, Carlos, we have a name. It’s a Chancellor well-known to just about everyone. Celia Marsche.” The room thickened with dread. “Empress of the North herself. A friend who pilots for a fixed attainder overheard her Chancellor talking. The man was at the GPM during this.” He turned to Michael. “Same conference your Sam attended. Celia Marsche was behind it all.”

Michael’s heart skipped. “And Sam? Is she …?”

“I asked about her. All the Chancellors returned home safely.”

Carlos dropped a cynical laugh. “Because when push comes to shove, Chancellors stick together. Sorry, Michael. They’ll never help us. This Moss character … he’s been playing you. Don’t be surprised if your Chancellor bedmate does the same.”

The rage ignited. Michael balled his fists.

“Say it again, you mother …”

“Michael, no.” Maya stepped between them. “Carlos was never taught how to be a man. Were you, Carlos?”

Carlos stepped back, hiding behind an indignant scowl.

“I’m man enough for you, Maya Fontaine.”

“And for my blade?”

That drew considerable laughter, a response Michael didn’t expect. He and Carlos retreated.

“Enough.” Matthias regained control of the room. “One thing I know with certainty: If we aren’t unified, we’re good as dead. I want to hear from everyone. Your thoughts about building Chancellor allies, or any other strategies. In two weeks, the Guard will have full control of the planet. Anything we do must happen before then. I know we’re not military experts, but we are the backbone of this society. That has to count for something. Yes?”

The debate

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