The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

ones who will strip you of command if this mission fails.”

“Indeed. Major, the situation back home is far worse than you’ve been led to believe. The schism between the Admiralty and the civilian Chancellory is larger than ever. Last year’s events fractured the bond we’ve shared for centuries. Many hard-liners want to follow the Celia Marsche model. They revere how she took control of the Admiralty, even though she also worked in secret with James Bouchet.

“We need this final victory over Salvation, and we need the Carriers out of the Sol system, back where they belong. Otherwise, there will be a shooting war, and the Chancellors will eat each other alive.”

Nilsson wasn’t surprised by this forecast. A billion humiliated, degraded Chancellors was not a recipe for anything productive.

“Why do you tell me this, Admiral?”

“Because, Major,” she said as they approached a room guarded by two soldiers, “while I did give the order for the operations on Tamarind and Euphrates, the plan was not my idea. I thought you might appreciate a visit with the architect.”

“Admiral?”

She dismissed the guards and pressed the printlock. The door slid away, revealing a luxury suite. Nilsson followed her.

A familiar face appeared to be enjoying a large meal with a tall glass of wine. The woman wiped her lips with a silk napkin.

“Ah,” said Frances Bouchet. “Angela. A pleasant surprise.”

“Please, no need to stand,” Poussard said. “We won’t be long.”

Frances did not hide her displeasure at Nilsson’s presence.

“Maj. Nilsson,” she said, her tone curt.

He never cared much for the woman – especially the haughty style that demanded all eyes train upon her. He didn’t lose anyone in SkyTower, but Nilsson hated how she and her husband eluded justice and now worked hand in hand with the same power brokers.

“Angela,” she said with the air of speaking to an old friend, “how much longer do you anticipate my confinement?”

“Almost at an end, Frances. I do apologize, but my personal staff and the troops, for that matter, don’t know about you and Emil. The disruption will be less concerning after we secure Hiebimini.”

“I understand.”

“Frances, I only have one piece of business, and then we’ll be off. I asked Maj. Nilsson to be present since his team was an integral part of our operation, and they did sacrifice greatly.”

Frances put down her wine and offered a patronizing smile.

“Naturally. Major, my condolences. I’m sure the Admiralty will memorialize your team at the appropriate time.”

“Thank you, Frances,” he said through gritted teeth.

“So,” Poussard continued, “I am here to confirm that you have turned over all relevant data regarding the Anchor project.”

Frances leaned back in her chair. “Absolutely, Angela. You have everything to build a jump network that will revolutionize the Collectorate. A thousand-year leap forward.”

“Brilliant. And the loss of additional Void energy will not impair our future efforts?”

“No, not at all. We categorized more than thirty-five million quantum signatures into holographic pattern sleeves. I made it available to Forsythe on the Praxis holostream.”

“Outstanding. And the data for the fostered immortals?”

Frances squirmed. “Now, Angela. You haven’t forgotten our deal. After the tribunal’s findings are retracted and our sentence is revoked, you’ll be able to hunt down the other children.”

“Of course, Frances. Why deal all your chips before endgame?”

“Precisely, Angela.”

The Admiral thought for a moment and pivoted to Nilsson.

“Sometimes, victory is sloppy. Would you agree, Major?”

“I would, Admiral.”

“Good.” She swung back around to Frances. “Your husband is dead. CVid drones from the facility on Euphrates captured the moment. Your oldest son incinerated Emil.”

Frances withdrew, her face turning a sickly pale.

“That’s impossible. Emil would never have allowed himself to …”

“He never left the facility because I made sure he couldn’t. My agents were supposed to eliminate him, but they failed. Fortunately, he met with a more ironic end.”

Frances stood. Nilsson saw it in her eyes. The truth always hit hardest against those most certain of victory.

“What is this?” She said. “Why is he here?”

“Frances Bouchet, you and your husband were convicted of crimes against humanity and sentenced to death in absentia following the SkyTower inquest. It is my lawful duty to carry out the sentence.”

Frances pushed the table aside and rushed Poussard, who threw the woman to the floor with ease. Frances screeched:

“How dare you? We had a deal. Our work saved the Chancellory. Again! Our jump research guarantees control of the Collectorate.”

“No, Frances. What you’ve done is given us the ability to clean up the mess you and Emil created. Did you honestly believe we would rehabilitate the Bouchets into heroes? Your arrogance cost the lives of more than two million Chancellors.” She turned to Nilsson. “Including six very brave warriors under the command of this man. Major, please take your sidearm and carry out the sentence.”

Poussard played him perfectly, setting him up to do what she didn’t have the stomach for. Nilsson didn’t care. Something good had to come out of this. He grabbed his pistol and faced Frances.

“Broadman, George, Carver, Muldoon, Learner, Cooper.”

Frances didn’t believe it was real. Assumed she was going to escape. Nilsson saw the denial in her eyes, which is where he aimed.

“Goodbye, Frances.”

The blast seared a coin-sized hole into her forehead, just above the bridge of her nose. She died with tears and open eyes.

“Well done, soldier. For the record, you were never here. As far as you know, Frances and Emil Bouchet died in SkyTower. Your dramatic increase in pay grade is in no way connected.”

“I understand, Admiral. I assume all records of the Bouchets are being revised to end at SkyTower?”

“Yes. We’ve been redacting their existence for months. Many Chancellors are much wealthier as a result. And the ones who resisted have also been redacted.” She faced Nilsson. “We may not be good people, you and