by Eric Flint
"Steal! Steal?" said Gobbo. "A fico for the phrase. Convey, the wise call it."
"Call it what you like, they'll stop your conveying too. But there is work you can do."
"I know," agreed Gobbo. "But work . . . it hath such an ill ring to it."
"Regard it as I do," said Pooh-Bah. "As something one of the other seven do while I am not around."
Chapter 46
The office of Dr. Len Liepsich.
A place in which you might find anything
from a book on Egyptology to a treatise on the
molecular structure of fullerene complexes.
And last month's lunch, with green fur on it.
And an espresso machine, too well used.
It was approaching midnight and the physicist was showing no signs of slowing down. The only real clue to just how little sleep he'd had in the last few days was that his eyes looked like roadmaps. And he was talking a little too fast. Virginia suspected there was something other than the ever-present cup of coffee affecting his mind. She ran the information she'd gotten from Darleth about the Crotchet's defense system over his hairy ears. You could tell he was interested because he scarcely bothered to insult her.
"For a blonde, you provide rare insights. And not just of a view of vacuum by peering into your ears. We'd figured the missiles. We've got some plans in place to try to deal with that. We'd figured heavy laser fire. There is some stuff still mounted on the slowship. I've got somebody organizing those. What we hadn't got is this business of double force fields."
"I'm fascinated by what you've figured out," she said dryly. Liepsich grinned. She continued. "What I am interested in, is what we need to do to get in there?"
He scratched his stubbly chin. "You know, there is always more than one way to skin a cat, especially if you know a lot about cats. Now, I figure that there are two ways—at least—that we can get at the ship. Their fields must be down for missile launch, as you said. We can hit them just then. It's a small window, but a window. That's the best solution a military man will evolve."
She'd learned to read Liepsich's elliptical utterances by now. "So what would a thinking man do?"
He grinned again. "Why don't you sign up for physics? You have too good a brain for politics. All that needs is a big mouth and the ability to lie with a straight face. You've got the mouth for it, but I'm not sure how well you lie."
Ginny was not distracted. "Answer my question, Dr. Liepsich. I might even sign up for a physics degree. Later. If you can prove to me that you're not too dim to teach it."
He gave her a thumbs-up. "Twin thrusts. The soft-cybers. The Jampad made it pretty clear that there are slaves inside that ship. The soft-cyber bias stops them rebelling. If you removed that bias, the ship would have an enemy within."
"Except that you can't do that," she said.
He raised his eyebrows. "Says who?"
She hauled him out of the seat he was flopped into. "How? Do it! Do it now." She hated and feared the fact that her mind was not entirely her own. This was indeed a holy grail.
He shrugged, still in her grasp. "We're getting there. We've been working on the source code. The Korozhet obviously hadn't counted on the fact that even if the colony is mostly back in human nineteenth-century technology, not all of the slowship's equipment is. We've been writing a section of what would be called—in old terms—a computer virus, to reprogram the soft-cyber chips. We're getting closer. It's no small job."
"Do it faster."
He looked thoughtfully at her. "Do you realize that if we get it wrong, we scramble the soft-cyber system? Destroy its memory. We can do that right now. To knock out the basic bias and still leave it intact is a lot harder. Now, can I sit down again?"
Virginia let go. She'd forgotten that she was holding him. "That would destroy my memories, right?"
"You? Maybe," he admitted. "Most of them, probably. The chip would be intact, just the programming screwed. A rat would go back to being a rat, but we could reprogram its soft-cyber."
"Except . . . they . . . we would lose our memories."
Liepsich nodded. "Yep. But you'd still be alive and you wouldn't be enslaved."
Virginia blinked. Shook her head. "I can't. I can't part with those memories. They . . . they're too precious. Maybe the others . . . I'll ask."
"Except that we can't deal with it on a one-on-one basis. We just don't have the time to do so, or even the equipment."
"But how else do you do it?"
Liepsich grinned nastily. "Use some of that plastic inside your blonde head, Shaw. The Korozhet need some way of relaying orders to all of you at once, obviously."
She looked warily at him. "What?"
"How blonde," he said. "Hadn't you worked out that you're carrying a radio-receiver in your head? It probably constantly says 'breathe in, breathe out,' in your case."
"It's too bad you weren't born a rat, Liepsich. You would have had a little more skill with insults. Although you'd probably still be considered the rats' village idiot. Can't you jam radio signals? And can't we just use radio to affect the prisoners inside their ship? And does this mean that the revolt we tried to foment among the rats and bats is a lost cause? Or will they be able to resist?"
Liepsich smiled. "You really are too able for politics. We've identified the frequencies now, and got jammers set up, we hope. Inevitably the Korozhet will target the jamming devices, but we've got as much redundancy set up as we can. The radio call uses one of the master command phrases—what they used on you to make you obey Dr. Thom. I doubt if mere semantics could help the rats and bats dodge that. So, yes. The revolt that the rats and bats have tried to set up won't work. And that pumpkin-shaped Korozhet ship, unfortunately for my attempts to examine it, is opaque to just about every form of e-m radiation, including radio. It might work if you could get transmitters inside."
"And if your jamming fails?" asked Virginia. "And our resistance fails? What happens to us?"
Liepsich took a deep breath. "Well. Either we let you go and become the utterly loyal slave-warriors of the Korozhet. Or, if that starts to get close to the breaking point, we'll have to lose Harmony and Reason's best defense against the Magh'."
Virginia knew exactly what he meant. She closed her eyes, briefly. "You said there was another thrust."
"Ah. Just an idea," said the scientist.
"Out with it, Doctor Liepsich! Or I'll get my rats to cut your tongue out. Or better, Super-Glue your lips together so you can't insult anyone."
"You play rough, Shaw. How blonde." He smiled. "Okay. Slowshields explode if they impact a force field. We think that if you managed to make a circle of them you could, theoretically, have a hole in the field. Briefly. If you had enough slowshields you could in theory overload the entire field. But—and I emphasize the 'but'—the energy discharge would be in the multimegaton level. It would fry things for several miles around and possibly destroy the ship. We just don't know."
Chapter 47
Military court Complex, Court B, Judge Silberstohn presiding.
"Do you know that there are over fifty thousand people on the street out there?" said Lieutenant Capra to his senior counsel, as they did their last pre-trial preparation.
"They're certainly being noisy enough," said Lieutenant Colonel Ogata dourly. "And I assure you, Lieutenant, that's nothing to what it will be like if we lose this case."
"We're not going to lose."
Ogata turned a frosty eye on him. "Nothing is that certain, Capra. If we had a judge like McCairn, maybe. But Judge Silberstohn . . . He doesn't have a sense of humor. Remember that."
"And one of our star witnesses is in Korozhet custody. I'm not sure using those military animals is a good idea, Colonel. Take my advice, and keep questions to a minimum. You're better off if you stick to Virginia Shaw's testimony. She's a good witness, and she's still got shock value."
"I plan to," said Ogata, "but always remember: that's a military panel. They trust the military and instinctively
. . . should I say 'look down' on nonmilitary persons. It's a subconscious attitude in some cases, but it is real. The rats and bats are Military Animals."
"That's something that's sure to be challenged in court soon, sir. They're not 'animals,' or at least not 'dumb animals.' And they don't see the world quite as we do. They're amoral about some things and yet honorable about others."
"Different ethos and mores. And this seems more appropriate to realms of philosophy than last minute pre-trial preparations. It's not relevant," said Ogata, sternly.
"If that's what you think, sir," said Mike Capra, "wait 'til Doc gets up to testify. He can confuse a certified genius. That's why I kept him out of the last trial."
Ogata frowned. "In the brief meeting I had with the rat he seemed relatively coherent, if a bit long-winded."
"Just don't even give him an opportunity to talk philosophy," warned Mike. "And he takes the subject to a wider reach than I would have thought possible."
Ogata looked a little startled. "I suppose it does encompass the spectrum of human thought," he said. "Now, let's get back to the case in question."
* * *
An hour later they went into the packed courtroom. The crowd outside was even larger than it had been earlier.
With her presentation, Major Tana Gainor demonstrated that she actually had no need to resort to foul means to win her cases. She obviously just preferred certainty to litigation.
"Outside, and here in this courtroom, there are those who clamor for us to follow the popular will, to abandon the law and oblige the crowds. This," she said to the judge and panel, "is not what we stand for. We are not going to pander to the mob."
Mike could tell by the judge's expression that she'd hit exactly the right chord. Well, Tana always did her homework carefully. She always did her dirty work carefully, too. Still there were some surprises awaiting Her Nastyship.
She pointed to Fitz. "We have a man on trial here, a man who is very good at manipulating the masses for his own evil ends. Conrad Fitzhugh has abused the trust that the army and the people of Harmony and Reason have placed in their officers. We will display to you evidence, hard evidence, that can but lead you to one conclusion: This man is a spy, and a traitor who abused his rank to pursue his own goals, the goals of self-enrichment, at the expense of the lives of the men and women of our great armed forces."
She went on in this vein, in a very convincing, indeed, heartfelt style for some time. She didn't actually say much, but that was plainly secondary to her purposes.
Brigadier Charlesworth was an impressive witness. He was a heavily decorated divisional commander. He had been assaulted, with a deadly weapon, in front of equally impressive witnesses.
Ogata stood up to cross-examine. "Please show us the scars, Brigadier."
"What?"
"The scars of this assault with a deadly weapon," said Ogata.
"Objection!"
"Overruled. Continue."
"Did you in fact sustain any flesh wound from this assault?" asked Ogata. "If so, is there any reason that you cannot show the scars to the court? Is it perhaps actually on your buttocks?"
"Objection!"
"Sustained. Will the defense refrain from insulting the witness. He is a distinguished officer."
Ogata turned to the judge. "Your honor, I can only imagine one other place that the witness could be injured that he would be reluctant to show us the scar," he said, without even a hint of a smile. "Therefore it seemed a polite alternative to the other possible question. Less embarrassing for the witness. I would not ask a witness to show his buttocks or any other part of his body that he or she considered private to the court. But in the interests of justice the scars from the wound should be displayed."
The judge nodded. "I take your point, Lieutenant Colonel Ogata. Brigadier. Would you mind?"
"There isn't a scar," said Charlesworth grumpily.
By the look on Tana's face she'd have given him one. "Your Honor," she said, "I am afraid that proves nothing. Major Fitzhugh thrust a deadly weapon into the witness' stomach, with the intent to do grievous bodily harm, if not to kill the brigadier."
"I see," said Ogata. "A thrice-decorated combat veteran, a martial arts expert, would of course have no idea how hard to strike to inflict bodily harm. Is that what you're suggesting? That's ridiculous, Major."
"Are you going to continue your cross-examination of the witness?" asked the judge dryly.
Ogata nodded. "Yes, Your Honor. Tell me, Brigadier, about the preparations for this plan for the attack on Sector Delta 355."
"That's classified material," said Charlesworth. "I cannot divulge war plans."
"Even details of long-completed plans—which, according to you, were entirely disrupted because of Fitzhugh's actions?"
Brigadier Charlesworth nodded. "If it hadn't been for Fitzhugh, we'd have gone considerably further in our advance. He aided the enemy with his actions."
"He did, did he? Well, Brigadier, I put it to you thus. The reason you cannot reveal details is not because these are classified documents. It's because there was no plan. There is no evidence of any preparation at all at Brigade headquarters."
"Objection. This is conjecture."
"On the contrary," said Ogata, icily. "I have an impressive list of some one hundred witnesses who will testify that Brigade headquarters was in fact asleep, bar the guards."
"The planned assault wasn't due for another two days, man!" bellowed Charlesworth.
"I see. Despite the fact that the force field went down at 06h29 of that day, a crucial and deciding factor in this campaign. Are you claiming that Fitzhugh engineered this plan going into effect two days early?"
"Fitzhugh engineered that the force field should go down then. It would have been a much more general collapse, but the weapon was triggered too early. And I can't tell you more because the information is classified."
"How convenient, Brigadier," said Ogata. "It may interest you to know that we have expert testimony on force fields, and the possibility of 'bringing them down' from the outside. We have considerable evidence that the force field was collapsed from within, and that far from interfering with your plans, all that Major Fitzhugh did was to make the Fifth Infantry Corps take action on a target of opportunity, which you'd been ignoring."
"That's nonsense," blustered Charlesworth. "And no one knows more about Magh' equipment than the military. There was certainly no 'target of opportunity.' We respond to those."
"I would like the panel to note that Brigadier Charlesworth has stated under oath that a target of opportunity is responded to. I'll be calling Colonel Abramovitz, of Eastmoreland 2nd Conscript Regiment, and your Communications officer, Lieutenant Mussy, to the stand to prove that this is not in fact the case. Now, Brigadier, I would like to ask you about the operational capability of your command."
"Objection. This has nothing to do with the case," snapped Tana.
Ogata fixed her with his icy stare. She did not wilt, although any lesser mortal might have. "I thought the charge against Major Fitzhugh claimed that he had damaged the military operational capacity of the 4th Division. It therefore seems a sensible question, Your Honor. Entered as evidence we have a statistical analysis of the brigadier's command effectiveness: measures of territory lost, human, and materiel losses. I thought in the interests of legal economy, as the brigadier features as the least successful divisional commander on the front, he could clarify certain matters."
* * *
By the time that Ogata had finished with Brigadier Charlesworth his credibility as a witness, and his ability as an officer, were in severe need of reinforcements. But Ogata made sure that when they moved to help, they too became targets. "So, Lieutenant Colonel Nygen. You did not actually go past the old second line of trench defense at Sector Delta 355?"
"I'm a senior officer," answered Nygen. "We don't go into front-line positions."
Ogata looked askance at him. "According to the information available, the new front
was approximately thirty-six miles from you. Yet you've testified that Major Fitzhugh 'was endangering the troops' by 'attempting to lead them to their destruction.' You must have remarkable eyesight, Lieutenant Colonel."
"Naturally, I had reports from officers in the field. This is the way the military works, sir, which you rear echelon chaps may not understand. A commander can't be everywhere and see everything. We learn to rely on the chain of command."
"Thank you for informing us, Lieutenant Colonel," said Ogata. "So, please tell me which of your officers told you Fitzhugh was attempting to lead your troops to destruction, and endangering their lives?"
"Lieutenant Colonel Burkoff," replied Nygen.
Ogata raised his eyebrows. "Who just happens to be the only officer who died during this attack. I have spoken to every other officer who participated in this attack. I have a list of witnesses here who are prepared to state that they did not inform you of anything of the kind. I also have Lieutenant Colonel Burkoff's wireless operator as a witness, who will confirm that the lieutenant colonel never contacted you."
"Objection, Your Honor," said Tana. "This is not the issue here. The issue is that risking three thousand men outside of the military chain of command can be considered as an attempt to lead them to their destruction. Anyway, in whom do we trust? Some conscript Vat radio-operator or a well-respected officer?"
The judge shook his head. "We trust in the law, and in dispassionate consideration of the evidence, Trial Counsel. Continue, Lieutenant Colonel Ogata."
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Colonel Nygen, are you aware that the casualties sustained in the attack, and subsequent capture of Delta 355, are the lowest day-by-day for an entire sector, for the entire course of the war?"
Nygen snorted. "The fact that Major Fitzhugh was lucky has no bearing on the matter."
"Indeed," Ogata agreed with an inclination of his head. "It would not have. But I am going to attempt to prove that the major was not lucky. He was effective. He did not betray the soldiers of the Army of Harmony and Reason to any enemy. He merely did what you were supposed to do. Pursue war against the Magh' in the most effective manner possible."