“Fine. I didn’t give you the dockyards because I didn’t need to because you can’t push the issue or take them back. And if you had them, you’d be too powerful. Mars always needs two families. One with helium, the other with the military might.”
“So that’s to be Bellona and I’m to be August?” she asks. “Gross.”
“Who won that battle? I let him have the yards so I can give you the planet.” There is a particular quiet to a powerful person when they realize just how much more powerful they could become. They usually say nothing for quite some time, like Julia right now. “I know we’ve lost a lot of ships. I know you’re worried about Atalantia. But Virginia thinks we are going to settle in here, recover our losses now that we have two dockyards. Build up a massive fleet until we attack. Everyone does. Even Helios. He’s already complaining about it. I say we shock the worlds. Hit them in three days. A full Iron Rain with everything we’ve got.”
Her mouth falls open.
“Lysander.”
“If you want the planet, you will back me. I’m going to propose it at the end of this party. I know Atalantia. She won’t let us become more powerful than her. She will intervene. So, let’s move while she’s tied up with Luna still. Speed is our weapon. Rhone says it can be done. Apollonius is a nuke about to explode. Cicero wants redemption. The Rim is impatient to get this over with. We have the momentum. Darrow isn’t down there. Let’s win this.
“Horatia is right now working on Dido. If Dido is in, we can protect our flanks from Atalantia. So, I’m going to go see if she is in. You think it through. Think fast. Speed is our weapon. Let’s make Mars yours.”
I stand. She stares up at me. “When did you get such balls?”
“When my friends started dying for me.”
She grabs my wrist. “It’s your allies here who are taking the risk. The Rim will of course agree with this…you’re trying to impress them. Unity, I thought that was just rhetoric. No?”
“Julia. It is not the Society without the Rim. But before the Societywas anything else, it was an idea. That idea is what we need to reclaim. We are in this together.” I tap my temple and pull my arm away.
Dido’s companions—a warmer variety of her chilly species, at least compared to Helios’s fortress of isolationists—welcome me to join them on their couches next to Horatia. “So, golden boy, you spared us a looming disaster by sweet-talking Augustus. What next?”
“That’s what I came over to ask you two.”
“Dido hasn’t given me her answer yet,” Horatia says.
“We already know what Helios will say,” I reply. “But Helios won’t stick around if Atalantia comes when we’re taking the planet. He’ll just pass the work off to her. Job done. So if Atalantia comes and gives you an ultimatum: leave now or protect us, what will you do?”
Dido watches me very carefully. “What do you want, Lysander?”
“I want the Morning Chair. I want Atalantia to die. She killed my parents because my mother and father were Reformers.” Dido glances at Horatia. Horatia nods. “With the Rim? I want your people to believe you’re more than your utility to us. That we take risks together and share the rewards together. I know you have all the food you need from Demeter’s Garter. But I know your civilization needs a better source of helium. Privation need not be a way of life. I want Martian helium fueling a second age of prosperity in the Rim. I want reforms here.” I nod up to the Pinks. “I want them to be shifted to the arts, not processed for consumption. I want more dignity. Less violence, more law. And I want you and I to be able to talk to one another directly without mystery and intrigue. It’s the only way we’re going to fix these worlds after this war.”
Dido leans back. “When I first met you, I thought you were a conniving little shit with too much ambition for his own good. You’re all those things, but all this isn’t for just for your own good. Is it?”
“Only in my weaker moments.”
She glances at her friends. One by one they nod.
“There it is then. If Atalantia comes, we won’t run. And if Helios tries, he’ll have to be the first Rim Imperator in history to abandon his own on a field of battle.” She leans forward. “He’d rather eat glass than have that after his name in the history books.”
Horatia touches my hand. I smile at her and stand. “I’ll give the speech after dinner. Is Diomedes here?” I ask.
“Looking at flowers and not picking them, as usual.” Her companions almost smile. I look up at the Pink acrobats. “No. The actualflowers. You know, Lysander, I like Horatia here, but the only reason we are talking like this is because of my son. He’s your champion, in private at least.” I frown. Could have fooled me. “Don’t abuse him, please. He’s far more gentle than he appears.”
I leave to wander Victra’s gardens in search of Diomedes. The stars twinkle through the trees as I walk, and I feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite the difficulties, things are coming together. With the help of the Praetorians standing watch, I find the rim knight crouched over blue aura flowers near a running spring. “You’re a hard man to find,” I say.
“Not really. I’m the only one in the garden.”
“I had to ask the Praetorians. Didn’t even know the garden went back this far.”
“Did you have to ask the soldiers, or did you want to?” He bends to look at a brilliant crimson flower shaped like a sword. “It’s good to have a common touch with the men. I eat with mine.”
“Every meal, I hear.”
He points to the flower. “We don’t have these. What are they called?”
I pause. “The Vanquished Foe.”
