“How many people has Moid suborned?” Suohonn drummed his fingers on the table.
“Not that many,” Kalhara, his wife, looked up from her terminal, “but they’re people who can spread his view of the world around. Apparently you’re holding Persis captive.”
“Please, I haven’t even laid a hand on him.”
“I know,” Kalhara nodded, “and, frankly, I think you had cause. I’m very proud of the way you acted when everyone turned against you and I’m still ashamed I was duped like that.”
“You apologised and I accepted,” Suohonn waved a hand dismissively. “As long as I get dessert ever second night, as a minimum, and you help me work it off, we’re good. Mind you, I think we’re good even without the dessert.” He looked directly at her, “I missed you when we weren’t talking to each other.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Kalhara corrected fondly, “or listening. You, on the other hand, never stopped trying to talk to me. Anyway, going back to the subject in hand, it seems the main conduit for Moid’s disinformation campaign is the ‘alternate news service’ run by Breslin. We can’t shut him down but Persis can put limits on him.”
“Well Persis is already auditing every decision Moid made in the last six years. Apparently he’d accrued more delegations than Persis and Hamily realised.” Suohonn grinned at his wife, “Remind me to institute a robust military audit function.”
“Yes, dear.” Kalhara clicked on a few more links. “For a start we can hope that in the audit Breslin loses his priority access to printer ink, now can’t we?”