The Halls of Montezuma

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  Bastards, he thought.

  The universe seemed to hang on a knife edge. It would be so easy just to let someone else make the final decision. He’d spent half his career trying to deflect political and military micromanagement from people who manifestly did not know what they were doing, but now ... he almost wanted it. He almost wanted someone to tell him what to do. He almost laughed at the irony. He’d wanted freedom and responsibility; now he had it, and he didn’t really want it at all.

  He laughed. Be careful what you wish for, he thought. You might just get it.

  Holmes cleared her throat, nervously. “Sir?”

  Gerald turned to her. “Send the signal,” he ordered. He was tempted to come up with something dramatic, but the propaganda experts could do that after he was safely dead. He was sure they’d come up with something good. He’d always had a feeling that half the sayings attributed to Major-General Carmichael, the effective founder of the corps, had been made up after he’d retired. “Begin.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ***

  “Captain,” Ensign Perkins said. She sounded calm, but there was a hint of nerves in her voice. “We are cleared to begin.”

  Kerri nodded. The plan was as good as possible, with a hundred possible variants explored in the simulations ... she scowled, reminding herself that the simulations were only as good as the information fed into them. A single ship that hadn’t been noted, logged and accounted for would be more than enough to disrupt her plans. She thought she’d worked out enough ways to retreat, but ... there would come a time when they’d be committed. There’d be no way to retreat.

  “Signal the squadron,” she ordered. The doubts nagged at her mind. She did her best to ignore them. It wasn’t the time. “We’ll depart in two minutes.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “And if there are any problems,” Kerri added, “I want to know about them now.”

  She leaned back in her chair as the squadron powered up its drives, readying itself for the jump into phase space. The enemy star glowed in the display, waiting for them. Kerri knew they’d be detected the moment they dropped out of phase space, but it didn’t matter. They’d planned for that. She’d be more worried if they ran into an enemy fleet the moment they crossed the phase limit.

  And that’s about as likely to happen as me being promoted to Supreme Empress of the Known and Unknown Universe, she thought. She couldn’t even begin to calculate the odds of that happening, but she was sure they were very low indeed. They’d even taken care to randomise the exit coordinate to make life hard for any would-be interceptors out there. That’s not going to happen.

  A dull whine echoed through the ship as her drives reached a crescendo. Kerri studied the power curves, an unpleasant feeling lingering in her belly. Something might go wrong - something might go wrong at the worst possible time - she gritted her teeth. She’d planned for everything she could imagine, up to and including a total drive failure. The squadron could continue the mission without her ...

  Which isn’t the worst possible outcome, she mused. It would be embarrassing, but survivable. She’d been through worse. The worst would be losing the entire fleet.

  She looked at the helmsman. “On my command, take us into FTL,” she ordered. She felt a flicker of the old excitement. It was time to put her doubts aside and make war. “Now!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  We will assume the carpenter sells his planks to the builder. He has made more money than the lumberjack, which doesn’t seem fair, but he also has more demands on his resources. He has to pay for his supplies and tools out of his earnings. Whatever’s left is profit.

  - Professor Leo Caesius, The Rise and Fall of Interstellar Capitalism

  Commander Archer was on the prowl.

  Rachel bit down her annoyance as the man marched past, as if he was a demented marionette on strings. It hadn't taken her too long to check the files and determine that yes, Commander Archer had been passed over for promotion multiple times. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t been reassigned to an asteroid settlement or a monitoring station in the middle of nowhere, although she supposed that he might cause even more damage when he didn’t have someone looking over his shoulder. Or suffer a fatal accident that was nothing of the sort. She rather suspected Commander Archer’s superiors found him useful. If nothing else, they could be sure he was no threat.

  She kept her eyes on the console, watching the live feed from the vast array of sensor platforms deployed around the system. The original design had been hugely expensive, to the point that only Earth and a handful of Core Worlds had invested in them; the corprats had improved the design to the point they - and hundreds of other worlds - could monitor their system without needing to invest in colossal arrays. The design would have been admirable, she thought, if the corprats hadn’t been the enemy. She made a mental note to ensure the designs were stolen and copied, at the end of the war. Their advancements could benefit thousands of worlds if they came without strings attached.

  And the sensor arrays aren’t so easy to duplicate, she mused. They could have made billions if they’d sold them before the collapse came.

  Her lips quirked. The corprats had also devised vastly more efficient cloudscoops, but there was nothing special about them. The big corporations had pushed through laws mandating safety measures that made standard cloudscoops vastly more expensive, ensuring they had a monopoly on production and distribution. There was no reason anyone with a space-based industry couldn’t duplicate their work or come up with a similar design of their own ...

  “What are you smiling at?” Commander Archer was right behind her. “What’s so funny?”

  “I was merely remembering last night’s entertainment,” Rachel lied, smoothly. It wasn’t easy to look nervous, but she managed. “It was very funny.”

  “Keep your eyes on your console,” Commander Archer snapped. “We don’t want anyone slipping past us!”

  He stamped off. Rachel hid her amusement as she looked back at her console. She was mildly surprised he hadn’t bawled her out for thinking about last night’s flick, but who knew? Perhaps it would have been taken as a sign of disloyalty. It hadn’t taken her long to realise that no one had any faith in the Corporate Security Division. They certainly didn’t think it could be reasonable. It was about as sensible as the average theocratic police force, preferring to jail and execute a dozen innocent men rather than let one heretic go free. She doubted the system would last forever, but it hardly mattered. It would do one hell of a lot of damage before it fell.

  She forced herself to keep her eyes on the display. The system was preparing for trouble, although it was clear no one knew what form that trouble might take. Worker crews were rushing from place to place, moving so rapidly they often outran the security personnel who were supposed to be monitoring them. She’d listened in on an argument between a work supervisor and a security officer, an argument that had had to be resolved by higher authority ... an argument that, under normal circumstances, shouldn’t have happened at all. And everyone was so intent on covering their rears against charges of everything from incompetence to subversion that they were making mistakes ...

  A bunch of cunning smugglers could probably establish an entire supply chain, if they were careful enough to ensure they didn’t set off any alarms, she thought. She was certain there was an underground, if only because secret police states tended to breed them like dogs bred fleas. Everyone would be too scared of making waves to rat them out.

  She frowned. The last two days had been ... edgy. She’d been kept too busy to have more than a brief meeting with the others, leaving her feeling dangerously exposed. The random security sweeps were growing more frequent, each one increasing the risk of discovery at the worst possible time. She’d done her best to plot out ways to escape, if she was uncovered, but she was all too aware there weren’t many options. The anchor station was huge, and she knew how to subvert the automated monitoring systems, yet the security
officers could seal the hatches before searching the structure from top to bottom. Rachel knew she’d sell her life dearly, if there was no other choice. She also knew her death would probably be meaningless in the greater scheme of things.

  It’s not like I could set the fusion cores to blow without a lot of preparation, she mused, as she kept her eyes on the live feed. Commander Archer was harassing a young crewwoman who looked too young to be on the deck, but it was just a matter of time before he returned his attention to her. She didn’t like killing people, yet ... oh, she was going to enjoy killing him when the time came. There’s a limit to how much damage I can do.

  Her console bleeped. She tensed, feeling a sudden rush of excitement as the long-range sensors detected an exit splash on the very edge of the phase limit. A large exit splash, ten light-hours away. Her heart started to race. It looked as if a small squadron of ships had arrived ... the invasion force? It was certainly possible. She hadn’t expected any advance warning. There was no way to signal the Pathfinders without alerting the enemy to their presence.

  Commander Archer looked like a bear with a toothache as he stomped over to her. “Report!”

  “Multiple starships exiting phase space,” Rachel said, calmly. There was no proof it was the invasion force. Not yet. They’d be waiting some time for sublight reports from the more distant monitoring stations. “At least seven ships, maybe more.”

  “And where are they now?” Commander Archer glared at the screen. “Where are they?”

  “We won’t have realtime data until they come a lot closer,” Rachel said. Any competent officer worthy of the rank would know that! She guessed Commander Archer expected to be fielding demands from his superiors fairly soon. “If they come on a least-time course ...”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Commander Archer tapped the console, then straightened up. “Keep an eye on them!”

  “Yes, sir,” Rachel said. She was tempted to ask, precisely, what she should be keeping an eye on. The unknown starships were well beyond active sensor range. It would be hours, at the very least, before the planetary defences got a lock on them. “Should we forward the alert up the chain?”

  “I’ll take care of that, you stupid bitch,” Commander Archer snapped. “Keep an eye on them!”

  He stamped off. Rachel noticed a pair of operators shooting her sympathetic looks. She felt a pang of guilt. Those poor bastards were risking their careers, if anyone caught their movements on the security monitors. And they were doing it for an enemy infiltrator ... never mind they didn’t know. They’d be for the high jump if their superiors realised what they’d done. Bastards.

  She concealed her amusement as she looked back at her console. Commander Archer would probably contact his superiors, passing the alert up the chain to whoever was in ultimate command. She guessed he’d try to claim credit for the early detection, as if he’d been watching the console personally until the enemy ships made their appearance. She wondered, idly, what would happen. The orbital commander should technically declare an emergency, but ... if he did, a lot of time and effort would be wasted as defences went online and personnel scrambled for shelters. The cost would be staggering. If it was a false alarm, the orbital commander would be in deep shit.

  Which is why it is never a good idea to punish people for being careful, she thought. She kept a wary eye on the monitors as she planned her next move. If the invasion was about to begin, she knew what she had to do. They start covering their asses instead of covering yours.

  ***

  Thaddeus rather liked breakfast, for all that he rarely had time to sit back and enjoy it. The first meal of the day was the most important one, with scrambled eggs, toast and bacon - washed down with coffee and tea - preparing him for the rigours he’d face the moment he walked into his office. He’d always preferred to eat breakfast alone, but he’d invited Julia Ganister-Onge to join him. She was his guest, after all. The least he could do was share his breakfast with her.

  He studied her with interest as she sipped her coffee, presumably studying him too. She was pretty enough, although too young to be interesting. His lips quirked at the thought. Most people weren’t interesting to a man in his second century, particularly a man who could have all the sex he wanted - with whoever he wanted - just for the asking. Julia would have to be older, smarter and much more experienced to capture and keep his interest. Right now, she would have to work hard to overcome her disgrace. Thaddeus wasn’t sure she could climb out of the hole without a lot of luck and careful planning.

  Daisy entered, carrying a datapad. Thaddeus sighed as he took it and scanned the list of actionable items. The system was gearing up for war and everyone, even the people who were supposed to know better, wanted his input before any final decisions were made. It was a flaw in the corporate government, he acknowledged sourly; there was no way the leadership could empower their subordinates without risking trouble, yet ... powerless subordinates had to forward all decisions to their masters. There was no way to open upper management without risking all sorts of problems. If nothing else, the corporate royalty would object - strongly - to newcomers being offered plum jobs.

  Good enough to marry into the family, but not good enough to be trusted with real opportunities, he thought. And their children might lack the kind of intelligence that attracted us to their parents in the first place.

  “There’s a dispute between two contractors on a deep-space station,” he said, more for the sake of making conversation than anything else. “How would you handle the situation?”

  Julia looked up, slowly. “I would find out what had happened first,” she said. “And then I would make whatever decision seemed appropriate.”

  A very corporate answer, Thaddeus thought. The poor girl had lost a little of her determination to fight, to carve out a place for herself. She thought - she had to think - that her career was deader than Earth herself. But then, it wasn’t a very fair question.

  The door opened. Daisy hurried into the room. Thaddeus looked up, alarmed. His secretary was supposed to be having her own breakfast, after bringing him the morning reports. She wasn’t supposed to interrupt him unless it was truly urgent. He tensed, wondering just what had happened. If it was another dispute that had gotten out of hand, he’d have everyone involved shot. What was the point of being on top if one couldn’t rely on one’s subordinates to show a little common sense from time to time?

  “Sir,” Daisy said. “Orbital Defence has picked up a handful of unknown starships entering the system. They are requesting permission to declare an emergency and put the defences on alert.”

  Thaddeus took a moment to think. “Where are the ships now?”

  “Unknown,” Daisy said. “Orbital Defence states that they could be here within six hours, perhaps less.”

  “Really?” Julia sounded a little more animated. “If they were detected on the phase limit, they’re at least twenty hours away.”

  “But we don’t know when the contact was actually made,” Thaddeus said. He ground his teeth in frustration. Orbital Defence knew what to do if enemy starships appeared from nowhere, firing missiles in all directions, but what should they do if the enemy was some distance away? Whatever decision they made, someone would insist it was the wrong decision and demand satisfaction. “They could be a great deal closer.”

  He thought, rapidly. If he gave the command ... it might unite the board against him, but it was unlikely. Too many of them owed him favours. They’d need a far greater cause to put those favours aside and stick a knife in his back. And then ...

  “Inform Orbital Defence that they have permission to declare a system-wide emergency,” Thaddeus said. If he was any judge, the deep space facilities would have sounded the alert anyway. They were out on the edges, hopelessly isolated if the enemy decided to take a crack at them. It was part of the reason the system’s industrial infrastructure was concentrated around the planet itself. “And that they are to keep me informed.”

 
Daisy curtsied and withdrew. Thaddeus looked at Julia. She had returned her attention to her plate, as if the issue of an enemy fleet was of no importance whatsoever. Thaddeus couldn’t help feeling a flicker of amusement. Her input would certainly be interesting.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think we need to prepare for the worst,” Julia said. She sounded disinterested. It was almost certainly an act. “They’re coming.”

  Thaddeus nodded, although he had his doubts. Onge was heavily protected. There were layer upon layer of orbital and ground-based defences waiting for the enemy. It was a shame no one had ever managed to produce a working planetary force field - the techs claimed it was possible, but usable hardware was sorely lacking - but it hardly mattered. Anyone who tried to land on the planet without permission would be shot to pieces before they made it through the upper atmosphere. It was possible the marines were simply making a demonstration. It was possible. The marines presumably understood the virtues of intimidation as well as he did.

  And they can keep us guessing simply by flying around the edge of the system, he thought, sourly. He was no fool. The wear and tear on expensive equipment - and people - would be all too noticeable. They’d wear our people down before making their move.

  ***

  Rachel made a show of rubbing her eyes as she sat at her console and monitored the incoming fleet. If she hadn’t had her implants, and years of training, she would probably have slipped off her chair and fallen to the deck. As it was, a quarter of the crew had had to be relieved at short notice. She was surprised Commander Archer hadn’t chosen to take a nap himself. But then, General Gilbert had taken command. Commander Archer probably didn’t want to look bad in front of his ultimate CO.

  Particularly when he can’t blame everything on us, Rachel thought. She couldn’t imagine a way anyone, even someone as versed in interdepartmental conflict as Commander Archer, could pass the blame to his subordinates. It won’t be long before he starts seeing things.