Hostile Takeover Read online

  “Very well, Xi,” Anthony said. “I call a vote for the motion to remove Ming Qinlao from the council.” He accessed his retinal display.

  “I demand a voice vote,” Ming said. When she looked at Anthony, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. His heart went out to her again. Her injuries were his fault. He was the one who sent her on the mission with Viktor’s tech that had so damaged her body. “It is my right,” she added.

  Anthony swallowed the lump in his throat. “A voice vote then. I vote against the motion.”

  Xi and Elise voted for it.

  “Against,” Viktor said. He crossed his pudgy arms for emphasis.

  “For,” Adriana said. Anthony’s head snapped in her direction. Never before had she voted against him. He tried to read her face and gave up.

  “That makes the vote two in favor and two against,” Anthony said. He turned to his son. “Tony, you have the honor of casting the tie-breaking vote.”

  Tony’s normal nonchalance was missing as he sat up straight in his chair. His gaze cut from his father to Ming, who stared at him without expression. Anthony could see his son gripping his thigh muscle.

  Tony looked out the window at the Mars landscape. “For,” he said.

  Anthony gaped at him. His son knew what Ming meant to his father. He knew Anthony had personally promised Ming’s seat on the council to protect the young woman from her relentless Aunt Xi.

  And his son had voted against him.

  A hundred reasons sprang to mind—none of them flattering to Tony—but one stood out to Anthony: jealousy. His son was jealous of Ming Qinlao.

  Anthony cleared his throat and addressed the council. “By a vote of three to two, the motion is carried. Ming Qinlao’s seat on the council has been suspended. I would like to say how much…”

  His voice trailed off as Ming reversed her maglev chair away from the table and headed for the door.

  Chapter 4

  Ming Qinlao • Mars Station

  Ming heard the door of the council chamber boom closed behind her before she allowed herself an inner smile.

  Well played, Ming! said the voice inside her. She had taken to calling the voice Echo.

  Ming nodded in acknowledgment. There was a time when the voice had seemed foreign, a personality apart from her, but those days were gone. Technically, the voice was a remnant of MoSCOW, one of Viktor’s inventions, but Ming had long ceased to think of the voice as something distinct from herself. The voice was as much a part of her as her arm, and every bit as important. She made no decisions now without consulting her inner voice. It was always there, waiting, helping, supporting her when no one else cared.

  Tony Taulke had played his part well, a born actor. The indecision on his face just before the vote had probably torn Anthony’s conscience to shreds. Good, she needed the old man vulnerable for the next step in her plan.

  She thought of the rest of the council and their transparent faces. Echo had long ago taught her the art of reading expressions. The furrow of a brow, the tightening of a lip, the flutter of a jaw muscle were all signs she could read like an open tablet. Auntie Xi’s motives were obvious enough. Elise Kisaan hated her for separating her from her beloved Cassandra. Viktor still felt guilty for ruining her health and Adriana had seen an opportunity to gain more power within the council.

  But what they all had in common was how they underestimated Ming Qinlao. They would come to regret their mistake. Every one of them in their own special way.

  She reached her quarters and swept her maglev chair through the doorway. When she heard the door close behind her, Ming stopped the chair and let it settle to the floor. She probed the carpet with her toe, then set her right foot firmly on the floor. The left foot followed and she hoisted herself upright. She took a series of tottering steps to the wall, then turned to settle her back against the cool plastic.

  Her legs shook with the effort, but she locked her knees and gazed out the window at the Martian sunset. Dusky red, fading to indigo, crept across the rocky landscape. The dying light etched the shape of a distant mountain range in the night sky.

  Like a toddler finding her balance, Ming staggered back to the chair and collapsed into the soft cushions. She grinned in triumph through the sweat. She would miss this place. In a way, Ming Qinlao had been reborn here.

  The old Ming, the Ming before she met Anthony Taulke, had been a serious woman who played by the rules and expected the best person to win. Sying, her stepmother and lover, had taught her to think bigger, take calculated risks, see the entire battlefield of business. To think like a queen. Sying taught her that the world of business was not a competition of commerce, it was a battle of wits and skill that was fought behind the scenes. Alliances, marriage pacts, disinformation—these were all skills of a queen.

  Ming had taken Sying’s guidance to heart. She had learned and loved—and lost.

  Discovering the murder of her father had been the real turning point for her, the crystallization of her mission. Like these unsteady steps, she had embarked on a journey of revenge and redemption. She would take back control of Qinlao Manufacturing because it was rightfully hers. Nothing would stand in her way.

  She had faced adversity, to be sure. The supercomputer MoSCOW nearly finished her. The prolonged integration left her broken in body and shattered in mind.

  And then something remarkable happened: Ming Qinlao put the pieces back together. Shard by shard, she refashioned her mind with the help of Echo, rebuilding her sense of self in the process. Her body … that took longer. Viktor Erkennen had given her a strict physical therapy regimen, which she followed, but that was not enough. To fulfill her mission, Ming needed to return to her roots. Ming needed to return home.

  Her breathing had calmed again and she wriggled to an upright position in her chair. The gravity of Earth in her condition would be bone-crushing, but there was no way around it. The pain would be worth it in the end.

  She met her reflection in the dark glass without flinching. She was ugly, her skin a mismatched mess of shifting shades of color, her hair—once long and silky—a patchy, ragged mat that barely hid her scalp.

  Time enough for a complete makeover later. For now, the “poor, damaged girl” image fit her needs. Let them pity her. Let them underestimate her. Let them push her aside. Her day was coming.

  She blinked her retinal display on and sent a pulsed message to Lander. “Get the ship ready.”

  • • •

  Sunrise on Mars was a gradual event. The light of the distant sun reflected in the dusty atmosphere, creating a hazy light long before the tiny disk of Sol appeared. Even after many months on Mars, Ming had never quite gotten used to seeing the sun that small.

  She paused in the hallway outside Anthony’s office to compose herself. For months she had played the weakling, the damsel in distress. In her final hours on Mars, there was no need to break that image for Anthony.

  She needn’t have worried. Anthony Taulke was as distraught over her ousting from the council as if he’d been attacked personally. Echo confirmed the emotions were genuine. Echo’s affirmations were second nature now, involuntary responses to any interaction.

  “We can fight this, Ming,” he said in a heated tone. “I can bring Adriana and Tony around—I’m not sure what got into them. They’ve always supported me before.”

  You’re going to start seeing a lot more of that kind of behavior, old man.

  Ming whirred her way across the close-cropped carpet of Anthony’s spacious office. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a stunning view of the Mars landscape, lightening now, but with a sweep of stars still looming overhead. She pretended to study the scene, letting her head droop like it did when she was tired.

  Anthony stood beside her, his hand resting comfortably on her thin shoulder. She wanted to pull away in disgust, but Ming allowed the intrusion. It was all part of the show for the next few hours.

  “It’s time for me to go home, Anthony,” she said in a soft voice.<
br />
  “Home?” He seemed startled by the word. “I promised to protect you, Ming. This is your home.”

  “No.” Ming shook her head gently and swung her chair so it dislodged his hand. “My real home. China. Shanghai.”

  Anthony’s face clouded and Echo confirmed the conflict in his features. He’s worried about his “secret” project with Xi. The transparency of his machinations made Ming want to laugh in his face.

  “But, your aunt…” he said. “Is it safe?”

  Ming waved a limp hand. “Do I look like a threat to you?” She studied his reaction in the window.

  “That’s not what I mean. Xi is a vindictive woman … are you sure it’s safe?” Echo registered more warring emotions as the older man sought to phrase the real issue.

  “It’s time, Anthony,” she said in as firm a voice as she dared. “I hoped you would see that. I can’t live under your care forever.”

  “And what about the company? Do you intend to make trouble for your aunt? You are technically a CEO in exile, after all.”

  Ah, there it was: the real issue had finally surfaced. A flash of anger threatened to blow Ming’s persona as a fragile weakling.

  “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she said. “Does that worry you?”

  Anthony backtracked hastily. “Of course not. We’ve always been in lockstep in how we see the world, Ming. It’s just that there are some dynamics that you might not be aware of…”

  “You mean your plan to release new nanites into the atmosphere? To take over weather control from the Neos?”

  The older man froze. If she hadn’t been playing a part, Ming might have laughed out loud at his expression.

  “You know about that?”

  “Of course, Anthony. I’ve known for months.”

  “Who told you? It was Viktor, wasn’t it?”

  “No, Viktor has been the soul of discretion. I figured it out all on my own.”

  He looked at her now, really looked at her, as if he might have underestimated her after all. Ming felt a sudden stab of apprehension that she’d gone too far, but Echo’s voice assured her.

  Respect. Surprise.

  Ming relaxed. “It’s what I would have done, Anthony. Elise is a wild card on the council. She serves a purpose in the short term, but her agenda is unclear. You need to reduce her power if you want to stay in control. She’s a threat.”

  Another knowing nod. “Agreed. I will miss you, Ming.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  He laughed, a genuine expression of delight according to Echo. Then he turned serious again. “If your aunt should fail me, can I rely on you to do the right thing?”

  Ming felt the laugh bubble out of her. “Of that you can be sure, Anthony. I will always do the right thing.” For me.

  She left Anthony’s office feeling as if she were floating on a cloud. Echo cautioned emotional restraint, but Ming chafed at the advice. She’d planned this day for months, it was impossible not to feel a growing sense of satisfaction.

  But Ming had one more stop before she was free of Mars.

  The door to Viktor’s lab was open when she arrived. As always, the room showed the Russian’s eclectic creative process. A painting by an old master hung next to a wallscreen displaying the schematics of a new weapon, which was next to a bench filled with the innards of a disassembled surveillance drone.

  “Viktor?” she called.

  “Back here,” came the muffled response from the rear of the lab.

  Ming whizzed past the scattered lab tables. Viktor liked to leave projects in plain sight so he could work on them whenever inspiration struck him. It led to a very crowded and chaotic work space, but the man did produce some of the most innovative designs in the known universe—easier to do when money was not an object.

  He raised a pair of VR goggles from his eyes when she rode up, pinning billows of flyaway gray hair in place. His face lit up when he saw her. Ming’s smile in return was genuine. Of all the council members, Viktor was her favorite—and the only one who had never lied to her.

  The old man’s eyes brimmed with tears. “This is it, then?” His native Russian accent always thickened under stress and she could hear it plainly now.

  Ming nodded a reply. She was feeling oddly nostalgic herself.

  Viktor shifted his feet and thrust his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “I will miss you, Ming.” His expression brightened. “I have a gift for you.” He hustled past her to a lab bench and scooped up a flat box with a red bow. “For you. Maybe it will make your transition to Earth’s gravity a little easier.”

  Ming hefted the box. It was about the size of a dress box, but heavy. “Can I open it?”

  Viktor feigned indifference, but Ming could see he was anxious for her to see the gift. She tugged the bow apart and lifted the lid from the box.

  She froze for an instant. Inside was a MoSCOW suit, the same type of suit she had worn during the attack on the Neo space station. Did Viktor know her secret? That a piece of the MoSCOW supercomputer lived in her brain still? Slowly, she met his gaze, searching for an answer to the unasked question. Echo reported only affection, with not even a whiff of deception.

  “I wondered if the same type of suit could interact with your implant and provide you with some better mobility than …” His voice trailed off as he gestured at the maglev chair.

  “I love it,” Ming said.

  It was not the same one, she could see that now. This garment was a newer version, lighter, with a more finished appearance. It also had a hood. She held up the ebony suit and noticed how it changed in the light. “You got the camouflage feature working,” she said with approval.

  Viktor dipped his chin. “Da. I know you will have no use for it, but you never know.”

  Ming clasped the suit to her chest. “I love it,” she said again. “Thank you so much, Viktor. You are a true friend.”

  The old man bent over her chair and bussed her cheek with a goodbye kiss. His whiskers scratched at the grafted skin on her cheek. “Take care of yourself, Ming. And I am sorry for all that has happened to you.”

  In spite of herself, Ming felt tears spring to her eyes. Echo rebelled at the sudden rush of emotion, chastising her lack of control. She didn’t care. Ming kissed the old man back and then swung her chair toward the door, the open box still in her lap.

  Lander was waiting for her at the docks, pacing the tarmac outside a space yacht, a gift from Anthony. They would be heading back home in style on this trip. His sharp gaze took in the MoSCOW suit on her lap and his expression darkened. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked.

  Lander had been there when Ming linked with the MoSCOW system last time and done untold damage to her body. The sight of the suit clearly made him uncomfortable. Ming hurriedly replaced the lid and tucked the container next her hip.

  “It’s no concern of yours, Lander,” she said sharply. “You’re just the driver for this trip.”

  He offered a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” His tone was cheeky but his radar was up. Ming cursed to herself. Her emotional goodbye with Viktor had made her sloppy. That was unacceptable.

  “I’m sorry, Lander,” she said. “It’s just a bit harder to leave than I expected.”

  His eyes weighed her words. Echo reported he didn’t quite believe her.

  Ming drove her maglev chair past him and up the ramp of the yacht. The interior was tastefully appointed, but with a few too many Taulke company logos for her liking. The ship had staterooms for four passengers and berths for three crew, but for this trip it was just her and Lander.

  She locked her chair in place next to the viewing window and waited while Lander ran his preflight checks and got clearance to depart. The clamshell doors of the launch bay opened to show the red-orange landscape and the stars beyond the horizon.

  She touched the comms circuit. “Take us up slow, Lander, and then do a flyby before we leave orbit.”

  “Roger that.” Lander was a soldier by training. He
knew not to ask for reasons why.

  The ship moved beneath her, pressing Ming’s body deep into the cushions. She let her breath leak out of her. At altitude, the ship made a long, slow banking turn, angled so that Ming could get a final view of the Taulke complex on Mars.

  Three domes gleamed in the weak sunlight like bubbles of water on the rust-colored terrain. Tracks of vehicles streamed away like spokes of a wheel and drones crisscrossed the skies beneath them.

  “You good?” Lander called over the intercom.

  Ming nodded to herself. She keyed the intercom. “All good.”

  They lifted higher, the domes shrinking to pinpoints then lost to distance. Still Ming stared at the Red Planet.

  Step one complete.

  Chapter 5

  Adriana Rabh • Earth Orbit

  It was good to be home.

  Adriana stood at the windows overlooking the vista of Earth from orbit. She caught a glimpse of the Amazon emptying like a coffee-colored stain into the slate blue of the Atlantic Ocean. Not a red rock in sight and that was just fine with her.

  She had directed the captain of her space yacht, Staff of Isis, to take his time in the transit from Mars to Earth, keeping the gravity at a half-gee or so most of the time. While glad to be back in the culture of Earth, she did not relish the thought of readjusting to full gravity and the continual ache in her bones for the next month until she acclimated.

  But comfort wasn’t the reason for her leisurely voyage home. She needed time to think, to reflect on how best to turn her new position as ambassador to her advantage. If the last year with the council had taught her anything, it was the changing nature of power. In this post-Earth age, her traditional source of advantage—money—was less useful. Everyone on the council was fabulously wealthy by traditional measures, so they essentially canceled each other out.

  The new currency was assets and she needed to make better use of hers.

  Anthony and Tony Taulke had their expanding space fleet and a beachhead on Mars. A growing army of mercenaries was also now a part of the Taulke portfolio—another sign of Anthony Taulke’s future designs on power. The Qinlaos had their manufacturing prowess, which would only expand with the council’s off-planet business. Viktor had his marvelous brain and endless inventions to keep his place at the table and Elise Kisaan had the double benefit of her family’s agricultural strength and her emotional connection to the Neos. Elise’s path was not without risk, of course. The identity of the Kisaan child was a closely guarded secret, and new rumors swept daily through YourVoice with the speed of light. If the child was a hoax, there would be hell to pay.