As if they had all held their breaths until the Urdir’s arrival, the conversation flooded back louder, overlapping voices trying to get her attention. She took a seat next to Jalma, and in doing so became the anchor that defined the head of the irregularly shaped table. The two spinehounds came to take up positions next to her. She was pleased to see that they looked healthy and eager.
Jalma wore a dress overburdened with ornate but prim finery, as was the custom on Pliesse. Over her years of being married to the wealthy and frail old Count Uchan, she had adopted the local customs and now wore such constraining clothes as if they were her due.
Duke Fausto Verdun leaned forward and spoke as if he intended to earn points from the Ur-Director. “Before we begin, let me express my deepest sympathy to Lady Jalma at the loss of her husband on Otorio.” He shook his head, made a soothing sound. “So many nobles died there. The Landsraad will be reeling for generations.”
“Indeed, a terrible tragedy,” said Lord Londine.
Jalma’s face remained impassive, showing not a hint of grief. “Thank you for your condolences. The Pliesse government remains stable. With my husband’s long-standing ailments, I myself had to conduct more and more of the daily affairs.”
Malina gave her daughter a respectful nod, affirming the story they had concocted. “It was your husband’s last wish to see the lovely new Corrino museum on Otorio. I’m glad he got that opportunity before he died.”
She knew full well that Count Uchan had never even left his deathbed in the old family mansion on Pliesse, but falsified records now showed that he had traveled to Otorio, where he’d perished in the explosion. None of the survivors would remember whether or not he had attended the gala reception, and his body would never be found. Everything for a kilometer around the impact point had been vaporized.
Years ago, Jalma had married Count Uchan, an older, powerful Landsraad noble who controlled seven planets, including Pliesse. Soon after the marriage, Jalma dominated House Uchan, received a power of attorney that enabled her to speak for her increasingly frail and confused husband. The Count had not been seen in public for the past five years. Malina knew that the doddering old man had actually fallen into a coma, unable to interfere with Jalma’s work.
Upon learning of the Otorio disaster, Jalma had reacted swiftly, manufacturing the story and the evidence, which became an effective way to erase the pustule of a husband she had endured for so long. Jalma had killed him herself, erased his remains, and secured her power over the House.
Malina approved, though she wished her daughter had asked permission before taking such impulsive action, but she understood there had been no time. At least that was one silver lining from Jaxson’s outrageous act. The Aru family had learned to be flexible, to seize opportunities.
Now in the meeting, Frankos also expressed insincere condolences to his sister. He knew, of course, what had actually happened. He took the seat beside Jalma and deferred to his mother as the leader of the meeting.
Malina called the group to order. “We begin by stating the obvious. We must discuss and understand what my foolish son Jaxson has done. What do we say, how do we respond? And how can CHOAM benefit from it?”
“Benefit?” asked Duke Verdun. “He has eviscerated the Landsraad, disrupted commerce across hundreds of systems! We are Landsraad nobles, each of us, but we are also CHOAM Directors. Your son’s act unravels the fabric of the Imperium.”
“Our objective is to unravel the fabric of the Imperium,” said Rajiv Londine. “Is that not the stated purpose of the Noble Commonwealth? Is that what you mean, Urdir? Can we use your son’s act to expand our work?”
“We have the same goal as my foolish son, but fundamentally different methods,” Malina said.
“The Noble Commonwealth has worked steadily for generations,” said Viscount Tull, “but now our careful plans are ruined.” He groaned deep in his chest. “Through constant, gradual pressure, we have weakened the underpinnings of the Imperium and continued to spread our ideals.”
“It was taking hold,” Malina said, “but now we must survive and adapt. What Jaxson did is already done.” She should have planned better, should have anticipated her younger son’s outrage and impetuous behavior, but she had not grasped how deeply the desecration of the family estate would affect Jaxson.
A crack finally showed on Frankos’s businesslike expression. “I remember my brother sitting in this very room, listening in on official CHOAM meetings.” He shook his head. “Jaxson always seemed unstable, out of place. I thought we were beginning to rein him in, make him see the bigger picture. But what he just did…”
“When Jaxson decides on a goal, he is as focused as a lasbeam,” Jalma said. “He saw only a hot red targeting cross in front of him instead of the whole plan.”
“We cannot undo the attack on Otorio no matter how much we complain,” Malina repeated. “But we must be careful to mitigate what we can. Shaddam is already volatile and capricious. After such destruction, if the Emperor becomes reactionary, that would harm us. We must deflect him.”
“He’s already imposed a heavy new spice surtax!” groaned one of the more introspective upper Directors, Earl Leeper. “Even I cannot afford it, no matter how desperate my need for melange may become. People are going to die of withdrawal. They are not able to live without spice.”
“We will find a way around it,” Malina said.
“Your son has exposed the Noble Commonwealth, set back all the progress we made!” huffed Fausto Verdun. His voice was so loud that both spinehounds began to growl, and the Duke sat back, looking nervous.
Malina extended her hands on either side of her chair, and Har and Kar took solace in licking her palms. “You Directors understand the intricacies of commerce—supply and demand. The Otorio disaster disrupted normal trade routes, and with so much uncertainty in the Landsraad, the markets are falling. We must find a way to arrest the economic collapse.”
“We should arrest your son, bring him to justice. Then the markets would calm,” Verdun grumbled, then clamped his lips shut as the spinehounds growled again.
“I do not know where he is,” Malina said, and it was a true statement. “He has cut off ties with me as well.”
Old Rajiv Londine, a quiet and reserved man despite his garish colors, expressed his frustration. “Our forefathers developed a long-term plan for the independence of thousands of planets. Now Jaxson’s attack not only provokes the Emperor, it also turns countless potential sympathizers into enemies.”
Viscount Tull nodded, tugging the sleeve of his charcoal suit. He was still uncertain of his position in the inner circle, but he filled his father’s shoes well. “For a long time, rumors about the Noble Commonwealth were dismissed or ignored. We were very careful! But Jaxson’s manifesto shone a beacon on all our work, and the fool Shaddam is paying close attention. He sees it as a personal affront. We are not ready to unravel the whole Imperium yet.”
“By design, Jaxson killed only those nobles who are not allied with our cause,” Malina pointed out, reluctant to entirely disown and destroy her son, despite her words in the Landsraad Hall. “No one from CHOAM officially attended the museum ceremony. All of our secret loyalists were instructed to make excuses—even without knowing what my son intended.” She sighed. “I had meant it as a quiet snub of House Corrino.”