“A bold promise,” Romulus says, showing the depth of his character by bearing the insult he must feel at a Red promising to deliver him his independence.
“An outlandish promise,” Roque says. “Darrow is only who he is because of who is around him.”
“Agreed,” Mustang says cheerily.
“And I still have everyone around me, Roque. Who do you have?”
“No one,” Mustang answers. “Just dear old Antonia, who has become my brother’s quisling.”
The words hit home with Roque and Romulus. I return to addressing the Moon Lords. “You have the greatest dockyard the worlds have ever seen. But you started your war too quickly. Without enough ships. Without enough fuel. Thinking the Sovereign would not be able to send a fleet here so quickly. You were wrong. But the Sovereign has made a mistake as well: all her remaining fleets are in the Core, defending moons and worlds against Orion. But Orion is not in the Core. She is with me. Her forces joined to the ships I stole from the Jackal to form the armada with which I will smash the Sword Armada from the sky.”
“You don’t have the ships for that,” Roque says.
“You don’t know what I have,” I say. “And you don’t know where I hide it.”
“How many ships does he have?” Romulus asks Mustang.
“Enough.”
“Roque would have you believe I am a wildfire. Do I look wild?” Not today, at least. “Romulus, you have no interest in the Core just as I have no interest in the Rim. This is not my home. We are not enemies. My war is not against your race, but against the rulers of my home. Help us shatter the Sword Armada, and you will have your independence. Two birds with one stone. Even if I do not defeat the Sovereign in the Core after we defeat the Poet here, even if I lose within the year, we will cause such damage that it will be a lifetime before Octavia can summon the ships, the money, the men, the commanders to cross the billion kilometers darkness again.” The Moon Lords lean into my words. I may yet have them.
Roque scoffs. “Do you really think this self-styled liberator will abandon the lowColors in the Rim? In the Galilean Moons alone over a hundred and fifty million are ‘enslaved.’?”
“If I could free them, I would,” I admit. “But I cannot. I recognize that and it breaks my heart, because they are my people. But every leader must sacrifice.”
This receives nods from the Golds. Even if I am the enemy, they can respect my loyalty to my people, and also the pain I must feel. It is odd having such veneration in the eyes of my enemies. I am not used to it.
Roque also sees the nods. “I know this man better than any of you,” he presses. “I know him like a brother. And he is a liar. He would say whatever it took to break the bonds that bind us together.”
“Unlike the Sovereign, who never lies,” I say lightly, drawing a few laughs.
“The Sovereign will honor her agreement,” Roque insists.
“As she did with my father?” Mustang asks scathingly. “When she planned to kill him at the Gala last year? I was her lancer and she planned it right under my nose. And why? Because he did not agree with her politics. Imagine what she’d do to men who actually went to war with her.”
“Hear, hear,” the ArchGovernor of Titan says, rapping his knuckles on the table.
“And instead you would trust a terrorist and a turncoat?” Roque asks. “He has conspired to destroy our Society for six years. His entire existence is deception. How could you trust him now? How could you think a Red cares more for you than a Gold?” Roque shakes his head sadly. “We are Aureate, my brothers and sisters. We are the order that protects mankind. Before us was a race intent on destroying the only home it had ever known. But then we brought peace. Do not let Darrow manipulate you into bringing back the Dark Age that came before. They will purge all the wonders we have made to fill their bellies and sate their lusts. We have a chance to stop him here, now. We have a chance to unite once more, as we were always meant to. For our children. What world do you want them to inherit?”
Roque puts a hand over his heart.
“I am a Man of Mars. I have no love for the Core any more than you. The appetites of Luna have pillaged my planet long before I was born. That must change. And it will change. But not at the end of his sword. He would burn the house to fix a broken window. No, friends, that is not the way. To change for the better, we must look past the politics of the day and remember the spirit of our Golden Age. Aureate, united over all.”
The longer this plays, the more likely Roque will convince them of their patriotism. Mustang and I both know it. Just as I knew I would have to sacrifice something in coming here. I’d hoped it would not be what I’m about to offer, but I know by the looks in the eyes of the Moon Lords that Roque’s message has struck home. They fear an uprising. They fear me.
It’s the great dread of the Sons of Ares, the great mistake Sevro made in releasing my Carving and taking the Sons to a true war. In the shadows we could let them kill each other. We were just an idea. But Roque has made them think the thought that unites all masters who have ever been: what if the slaves take my property for their own?
When my uncle gave me my slingBlade, he said it would save my life for the price of a limb. Every miner is told that so that he knows from the first day he steps in the mine, the sacrifice is worth it. I make one now for which I may never be forgiven
“I will give you the Sons of Ares,” I say quietly. No one hears me through Roque’s continued speech. Only Mustang. “I will give you the Sons of Ares,” I repeat more loudly. Quiet falls over the table.
Romulus’s chair creaks as he leans forward. “What do you mean?”
“I told you I have no interest in the Rim. Now I will prove it. There are over three hundred and fifty Sons of Ares cells throughout your territories,” I say. “We are your dock strikes. We are the sanitation sabotage and the reason why Nessus’s streets fill with shit. Even if you hand me over to the Sovereign today, the Sons will bleed you for a thousand years. But I will give you every single Son of Ares cell in the Rim, I will abandon the lowColors here and take my crusade to the Core, never coming through the asteroid belt as long as I live if you help me kill his bloodydamn fleet.”
I stab a finger at Roque, who looks horrified.
“That is insanity,” Roque says, noting the effect my words have had. “He’s lying.”
But I’m not lying. I’ve given orders for the Sons of Ares cells to evacuate across the Rim. Not many will make it out. Thousands will be captured, tortured, killed. Thus is war, and the peril of leadership.
“Lords, the Imperator is asking you to bow,” I reply. “Aren’t you tired of that? Of groveling to a throne six hundred million kilometers from your home?” They nod. “The Sovereign says I am a threat to you. But who has bombed your cities? Who has slain a million of your people? Who kept your children hostage on Luna? Slaughtered your father and daughter on Mars? Who burned an entire moon? Was it me? Was it my people? No. Your greatest enemy is the greed of the Core. The burners of Rhea.”
“That was a different time,” Roque protests.
“It was the same woman,” I snarl and look to the Saturnian Gold to Romulus’s left who pays rapt attention. “Who burned Rhea? The Sovereign has forgotten, because her throne sits with its back toward the Rim. But you see her glassy corpse every night in your skies.”
“Rhea was a mistake,” Roque says, falling into the pitfall that Mustang helped me prepare. “One that must never be repeated.”
“Never repeated?” Mustang asks, springing the trap shut. She turns to Vela, who watches from the steps of the house with several other Ionian Golds. “Vela, my friend, may I please have my datapad?”
“Don’t play her game,” Roque says.