Drakon said. “Wait a minute. Isn’t there a creature called a phoenix on a planet in Gladias Star System?”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Iceni replied. “I’m talking about the real thing, which isn’t real.” He grinned at the joke as she continued. “It is very long-lived, a fire bird. Like a star. But that’s not all. When the phoenix is hurt, it regenerates. It can’t be defeated, you see? And when it dies, it burns up, then rises again from its own ashes. It can’t be beaten, it can’t be destroyed, but it’s not a monster.”
Drakon sat back, nodding. “Damn. That’s one hell of a strong symbol.”
“One hell of a strong symbol for whatever we’re building,” Iceni said. “Right? Something that will endure, something that will recover from any injury, something as powerful as the stars our worlds orbit.”
“The Phoenix Stars?” Drakon asked. “Rising from the ashes of the Syndicate?”
“Maybe.” Iceni nodded as well, to herself as well as in response to Drakon. “That leaves the exact nature of the association vague but projects a strong image, an image that has nothing in common with the Syndicate. But we don’t just need an abstract symbol. When were you planning on asking about the other thing?”
“The other thing?” Drakon shook his head. “What would that be?”
“The public face of our not-the-Syndicate-or-the-Alliance group of stars. You? Or me? Or both of us? What is the face of the Phoenix?”
He smiled slightly. “I was assuming both of us. Me to frighten people, and you to project that image of indestructible protection.”
She spent a long moment eyeing him, trying to figure out if Drakon had made a sarcastic jab at her. “Protection? That’s my image?”
“That’s what our citizens want from their president,” Drakon said. “And that’s how we want them to think, right? Protection from the sort of things that happened at Kane.”
That certainly sounded like a compliment, but Iceni still felt an odd irritation at the image. “Fine. But do you think I need you beside me to look frightening to our enemies?”
His smile grew but stayed enigmatic. “No. Your wrath can inspire plenty of fear, and for good reason.”
“I’m glad you realize that.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought. “There are advantages to being able to employ the old good cop/bad cop routine. I have no idea how long that tactic has been around, but I do know that it has endured because it works so often. I don’t want either of us locked into one of those roles, though. It might inspire someone to think knocking off one of us would cripple the other. We need to both look strong, but not menacing, to those inside our realm of control. We need to look strong
and
menacing to those outside.”
“Agreed.” Drakon gestured in the direction of the confinement cells. “Speaking of those inside and outside, Colonel Malin says CEO Boyens hasn’t been able to tell us much more.”
“No.” Iceni flipped her hand in the same direction, giving the gesture equal measures of disdain and aggression. “Boyens is spending his time trying to get information out of us instead of answering our questions. I think he’s trying to build the best picture he can of conditions here so he can decide which way to commit.”
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Drakon said. “If he’s already on the run from the Syndicate, he can’t just jump back into their laps.”
“That’s the question. Is he on the run from the Syndicate? Was he sent here with information we would consider valuable but that the Syndicate didn’t think would enable us to stop their flotilla?”
Drakon thought about that, his brow lowering. “Which would potentially give him a chance to get inside our operations again. Is Boyens their fail-safe if that flotilla didn’t succeed?”
“I asked you first.” Iceni glared at the interruption as an urgent tone sounded to indicate someone wanted to come into her office.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Iceni replied. “I’m talking about the real thing, which isn’t real.” He grinned at the joke as she continued. “It is very long-lived, a fire bird. Like a star. But that’s not all. When the phoenix is hurt, it regenerates. It can’t be defeated, you see? And when it dies, it burns up, then rises again from its own ashes. It can’t be beaten, it can’t be destroyed, but it’s not a monster.”
Drakon sat back, nodding. “Damn. That’s one hell of a strong symbol.”
“One hell of a strong symbol for whatever we’re building,” Iceni said. “Right? Something that will endure, something that will recover from any injury, something as powerful as the stars our worlds orbit.”
“The Phoenix Stars?” Drakon asked. “Rising from the ashes of the Syndicate?”
“Maybe.” Iceni nodded as well, to herself as well as in response to Drakon. “That leaves the exact nature of the association vague but projects a strong image, an image that has nothing in common with the Syndicate. But we don’t just need an abstract symbol. When were you planning on asking about the other thing?”
“The other thing?” Drakon shook his head. “What would that be?”
“The public face of our not-the-Syndicate-or-the-Alliance group of stars. You? Or me? Or both of us? What is the face of the Phoenix?”
He smiled slightly. “I was assuming both of us. Me to frighten people, and you to project that image of indestructible protection.”
She spent a long moment eyeing him, trying to figure out if Drakon had made a sarcastic jab at her. “Protection? That’s my image?”
“That’s what our citizens want from their president,” Drakon said. “And that’s how we want them to think, right? Protection from the sort of things that happened at Kane.”
That certainly sounded like a compliment, but Iceni still felt an odd irritation at the image. “Fine. But do you think I need you beside me to look frightening to our enemies?”
His smile grew but stayed enigmatic. “No. Your wrath can inspire plenty of fear, and for good reason.”
“I’m glad you realize that.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought. “There are advantages to being able to employ the old good cop/bad cop routine. I have no idea how long that tactic has been around, but I do know that it has endured because it works so often. I don’t want either of us locked into one of those roles, though. It might inspire someone to think knocking off one of us would cripple the other. We need to both look strong, but not menacing, to those inside our realm of control. We need to look strong
and
menacing to those outside.”
“Agreed.” Drakon gestured in the direction of the confinement cells. “Speaking of those inside and outside, Colonel Malin says CEO Boyens hasn’t been able to tell us much more.”
“No.” Iceni flipped her hand in the same direction, giving the gesture equal measures of disdain and aggression. “Boyens is spending his time trying to get information out of us instead of answering our questions. I think he’s trying to build the best picture he can of conditions here so he can decide which way to commit.”
“That doesn’t make much sense,” Drakon said. “If he’s already on the run from the Syndicate, he can’t just jump back into their laps.”
“That’s the question. Is he on the run from the Syndicate? Was he sent here with information we would consider valuable but that the Syndicate didn’t think would enable us to stop their flotilla?”
Drakon thought about that, his brow lowering. “Which would potentially give him a chance to get inside our operations again. Is Boyens their fail-safe if that flotilla didn’t succeed?”
“I asked you first.” Iceni glared at the interruption as an urgent tone sounded to indicate someone wanted to come into her office.
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