The Lost Stars by Jack Campbell Page B

condemned her in the eyes of the ISS snakes. And when the snakes got the orders to haul in system CEOs for loyalty checks, as they did, she would have been helpless.
    There were times when even an insane risk formed the best option.
    â€œYou’re right,” she told Drakon. “Black Jack will not forgive us if we sit out this fight.” Iceni gestured to the command center supervisor. “I need communications to Kommodor Marphissa on the cruiser
Manticore
.”
    It took only a couple of seconds before the supervisor saluted Iceni. “We are ready to transmit, Madam President.”
    In her mind’s eye, Iceni could see Marphissa on the bridge of
Manticore
, the Kommodor doing her best to project determination and courage to a crew that had doubtless grown unhappier with every minute spent evaluating the odds against them. How had they reacted at the sight of the Alliance fleet, a force the habits of their entire lifetimes told them was just as much an enemy as the enigmas? “Kommodor,” Iceni said, “you are to change course as necessary to proceed with your flotilla on a vector to join with and assist the forces of . . .” She had been about to say
the forces of the Alliance
. But that wouldn’t do. Not even now, when those Alliance forces were fighting a mutual enemy. A century of war, a century of hate, could not be so easily cast aside. “Assist the forces commanded by Black Jack, which are acting in defense of this star system. You are to respond to any commands given by Black Jack as long as they do not conflict with your responsibilities tome.
    â€œFor the people. This is President Iceni,out.”
    It was only after the words were out of her mouth that Iceni realized she had emphasized the phrase “for the people” rather than mouthing it like the meaningless phrase it had long been. Since the rebellion led by Iceni and Drakon, there had been a change in the way many at Midway spoke those words. People who actually took the words “for the people” seriously were well motivated, but they also might decide that “the people” would benefit best from different leaders.
And yet I also just said them as if the words had meaning. Was Marphissa right? Are the attitudes of my workers rubbing off on
me?
    Drakon was eyeing her but saying nothing. She could tell what he was thinking, though. “I was just motivating Kommodor Marphissa in the most effective manner,” she muttered in a voice so low only Drakon could hear. “That strong-horse thing you talked about.”
    He was wise enough simply to nod in reply.
    Iceni stood looking across the command center, trying to assess an alteration in the feeling of the place. Something had changed here. The fear, the anxiety which since the arrival of Boyens’s flotilla and the enigmas had ruled under the surface of the workers’ stoic façades, had given way to something else. Worry was still there, but also a strange sort of resolve that Iceni was not used to sensing in the workers aroundher.
    Colonel Malin spoke softly. “The Alliance is here. They don’t want to look bad in front of the Alliance. Those in the ground forces and the mobile forces have often felt that way, but the average citizen, the average worker, has not. You have given them much more pride in themselves and in what they do, Madam President. With the Alliance watching, they will not falter.”
    â€œToo bad I didn’t think of such motivational factors before,” Iceni replied dryly in the same low tones.
Actually, I did. But the Syndicate system wouldn’t let me try such experiments. Better the universe crumble than anyone do anything that might compromise the subservience of the workers.
    â€œWe should send a message to Black Jack,” Drakon broke in. “You andI.”
    â€œBoth of us, this time?” Iceni asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAll right. Let’s send this one from