“I am a busy man, Partisan,” President George Solace said calmly. President,” he greeted the President of the Legatan Republic. It wouldn’t do for any of the people he met to ever connect the various names. “Partisan,” a gruff voice greeted him as screens slid down from the roof to encase him, creating the illusion of a conference room with one other person in it.Īnother name.

The closeness was no longer as necessary as it had once been, thanks to the very allies and technology he was now waiting on.Ī soft buzz informed him the Link was online, and Winton turned around, walking into the field of hidden cameras needed to send his three-dimensional image across the light years-via a quantum entanglement technology the Protectorate he’d once served didn’t even know existed. Others managed it for him, but owning the platform gave him a secure location, only five jumps from Sol, from which to carry out his plans. None of those swarming crowds would have given the old man in the suit with the pure white hair a second glance, never realizing he owned the station. The transshipment station he stood on saw a lot of traffic into and out of the Alpha Centauri system and the optimistically named New Terra beneath his feet. He smiled thinly as he studied the concourse beyond his window. It was even close, he thought, to his birth name. He’d introduced himself to Damien Montgomery at a…memorable meeting as Winton, and that named served as well as any. That was the name the Keepers had known him by-but that was a man the entire galaxy, including both the Martian and Legatan governments, knew was dead. Even then, he’d been a double agent, working for Legatus as well as Mars. It hadn’t been the name he’d used for most of his life, the one he’d entered the Protectorate’s service under. The frail old man standing by the office window could barely even remember the name he’d been born under. To be notified of future releases, join my mailing list. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons- living or dead- is entirely coincidental.

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Voice of Mars by Glynn Stewart