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being?” asked Hammerstein.
    â€œThey don’t know.”
    Avalon looked around. Fleet Admiral Sebela stood from his chair. Gone was the tiredness, the weariness that seemed to have suddenly fallen upon him. Avalon could see the fire in his eyes, the way he held himself. It was time to face this rebellion down.
    Zworykin began to laugh. “Of course they don’t! Oh, but they will soon. My dear, glorious leader, all of Fleetspace needs to know how you betrayed us. How you tried to sell us out to that thing from subspace.”
    Subspace? Avalon didn’t know much about subspace, other than it was one of the dimensions that underpinned their own, three-dimensional reality. But subspace wasn’t used by the Fleet for anything.
    On the other side of the room, Commander Moustafa was staring at Zworykin, his jaw slack.
    Avalon frowned. What did he know?
    Then she remembered a story—a legend, really—just one of many tall tales told by marines out on patrol on cold nights under alien skies. A story about the things that lived in subspace.
    Monsters.
    And the word Zworykin had used. His exact choice of description.
    â€œA … thing?” she asked.
    Behind her chair, Zworykin dropped his voice to a croaky whisper, like he was one of those lonely marines out on the front, weaving a story. “Yes, my dear Commander Avalon. You’re the great-granddaughter of the woman who started it all, hmm? The namesake of our famous founder? Well, this thing has many names, but the Fleet Admiral here knows it best by one picked out of Japanese mythology: Izanami-no-Mikoto. You won’t find that name in the Shadow Protocol, even if the text in your briefing was declassified.”
    He walked over to the Fleet Admiral. “But that doesn’t matter. The Shadow Protocol failed. You failed, Admiral. It is just as well you did, otherwise that creature would be loose in our own universe. Your failure saved us, but it was failure nonetheless.”
    â€œI’ve had enough of your histrionics, Zworykin,” said Commander Hammerstein. He shook his big head and turned back to the armed psi-marines at the door. “Out of my way. I’m reporting this back to my division. The Command Council will have to be dissolved so we can sort this mess out.”
    The psi-marines didn’t move. Avalon could see Hammerstein’s distorted reflection in their opaque visors as he looked from one to the other.
    â€œI said stand down, marines. That is a direct order.”
    Zworykin chuckled. “You misunderstand, Commander Hammerstein. This council is already dissolved. The Psi-Marine Corps has already established control of the capital.” He turned back to the Fleet Admiral. “I am hereby relieving you of duty and will take interim command of the Fleet in your place. You will be held to face a Fleet tribunal in due course.”
    Avalon leapt from her chair. “You can’t do that, Zworykin,” she said. “Any charges brought against Fleet officers have to come through the Bureau. Through me. ” She moved between the rebellious Admiral and the Fleet leader. “If you have a case, then present it. ”
    Zworykin smiled. “Oh, you’re good, Commander. Very good. You’ll be useful to me. Perhaps I’ll bring you up in the ranks, give you a better position on my new Command Council. Now,” he said, stepping back and addressing the room, “tomorrow is Fleet Day. An important and symbolic occasion for everyone in Fleetspace. For that reason, although I have assumed command and my staff have secured the capital, the Fleet Admiral—although under arrest—will fulfill his public duties, and will continue to do so until such a time as the change of leadership can be communicated to the public and to our forces in their combat theaters.”
    The members— former members—of the council looked at one another, then back at Zworykin.
    â€œThat