The Mote in God's Eye Read Free Page A

estates and titles. Rod had wanted nothing more than a Navy career and the chance to become Grand Admiral someday. Now less than ten years and he’d have to take his place in Parliament.
    “You’ll have two passengers,” Cziller said. “One you’ve met. You do know Lady Sandra Bright Fowler, don’t you? Senator Fowler’s niece.”
    “Yes, sir. I hadn’t seen her for years, but her uncle dines at Crucis Court quite often . . . then I found her in the prison camp. How is she?”
    “Not very good,” Cziller said. His grin vanished. “We’re packing her home, and I don’t have to tell you to handle with care. She’ll be with you as far as New Scotland, and all the way to the Capital if she wants. That’s up to her. Your other passenger, though, that’s a different matter.”
    Rod looked up attentively. Cziller looked to Plekhanov, got a nod, and continued, “His Excellency, Trader Horace Hussein Bury, Magnate, Chairman of the Board of Imperial Autonetics, and something big in the Imperial Traders Association. He stays with you all the way to Sparta, and I mean he stays aboard your ship, do you understand?”
    “Well, not exactly, sir,” Rod answered.
    Plekhanov sniffed. “Cziller made it clear enough. We think Bury was behind this rebellion, but there’s not enough evidence to put him in preventive detention. He’d appeal to the Emperor. All right, we’ll send him to Sparta to make his appeal. As the Navy’s guest. But who do I send him with, Blaine? He’s worth millions. More. How many men would turn down a whole planet for a bribe? Bury could offer one.”
    “I — yes, sir,” Rod said.
    “And don’t look so damned shocked,” Plekhanov barked. “I haven’t accused any of my officers of corruption. But the fact is, you’re richer than Bury. He can’t even tempt you. It’s my main reason for giving you command of MacArthur , so I don’t have to worry about our wealthy friend.”
    “I see. Thank you anyway, sir.” And I will show you it was no mistake.
    Plekhanov nodded as if reading Blaine’s thoughts. “You might make a good Navy officer. Here’s your chance. I need Cziller to help govern this planet. The rebels killed the Governor General.”
    “Killed Mr. Haruna?” Rod was stunned. He remembered the wrinkled old gentleman; well over a hundred when he came to Rod’s home —  “He’s an old friend of my father’s.”
    “He wasn’t the only one they killed. They had the heads strung up on pikes outside Government House. Somebody thought that’d make the people fight on longer. Make ‘em afraid to surrender to us. Well, they have reason to be afraid now. Your deal with Stone. Any other conditions?”
    “Yes, sir. It’s off if he refuses to cooperate with Intelligence. He has to name all the conspirators.”
    Plekhanov looked significantly at Cziller. “Get your men on that, Bruno. It’s a start. All right, Blaine, get your ship fixed up and scoot.” The Admiral stood; the interview was over. “You’ll have a lot to do, Captain. Get to it.”

2  The Passengers
    Horace Hussein Chamoun al Shamlan Bury pointed out the last of the articles he would take with him and dismissed the servants. He knew they would wait just outside his suite, ready to divide the wealth he was leaving behind, but it amused him to make them wait. They would be all the happier for the thrill of stealing.
    When the room was empty he poured a large glass of wine. It was poor quality stuff brought in after the blockade, but he hardly noticed. Wine was officially forbidden on Levant, which meant that the hordes of wine sellers foisted off anything alcoholic on their customers, even wealthy ones like the Bury family. Horace Bury had never developed any real appreciation for expensive liquors. He bought them to show his wealth, and for entertaining; but for himself anything would do. Coffees were a different matter.
    He was a small man, as were most of the people of Levant, with dark features and a