by David Drake
Or to broker the Pink Rice, Adele thought. Cremona didn’t have a planetary government so much as it did a club in which members of a criminal gang got together to brag and to discuss further banditry.
“Why doesn’t the Funnel administration discuss the matter with their colleagues here on Madison?” Adele said, helping to keep things moving along. “Surely if the Forty Stars Squadron cooperates with the Funnel Squadron, they can end their problem easily. They can end your blockade running, that is.”
Osorio tried to laugh lightly, but Adele was pleased to hear an underlying note of strain. Granted that the fellow wasn’t patronizing Lady Mundy, she still found his attitude irritating.
Was there any adult too stupid to realize that the Friends of Sunbright were profiteers who were getting rich by supplying the rebels? If the Alliance forces had needed arms, the Friends would willingly have supplied them. The bloodshed was of no concern to them.
Adele shrugged. The bloodshed didn’t particularly concern her either. She had shed a fair amount of it herself over the years.
“Mistress?” Osorio said in confusion.
“I was thinking of something else,” Adele said, regretting that she had allowed her expression to change, a visible warning. “I was thinking that fighting, whether for freedom or not, is likely to lead to death.”
Her lips—barely—smiled. “But since everything leads to death,” she said, “that doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Ah…” Osorio said. He cleared his throat and said, “Well. You were asking about the Forty Stars Squadron cooperating with the Funnel blockade. This will not happen. The authorities hate each other! Sector Administrator Braun here is pleased to see the trouble Kolpach of the Funnel is having. But there is a better reason!”
“Go on,” Adele said. The Cremonan attaché had already given the correct reason—regional rivalry—for why the Forty Stars government winked at local support of the Sunbright rebels. It was beyond her how any reason could seem better than the true one, but she had long ago learned that most people seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.
“Cinnabar is behind the rebellion!” Osorio said with his usual heavy-handed emphasis. “No, I don’t mean just that Cinnabar sent one of its top secret agents to lead the rebellion under the name Freedom. I mean that the Cinnabar Navy intelligence section on Kronstadt has planned the whole thing. They set up the supply network before the rebellion started and they provided enough weapons to make the initial stages practical. It was anti-ship missiles which made the first raid at Tidy possible!”
Adele’s mind cascaded analyses:
I don’t believe that.
It is possible that a Naval Intelligence section here on the fringes of the empire could go rogue.
If Cinnabar’s Naval Intelligence is behind the Sunbright rebellion, it means the war will resume very shortly.
None of the thoughts reached her tongue. She looked at a couple walking beside a pool in the garden, not far from the causeway. The man was…over-attentive; the woman shied away, but not very far away. From their clothing, they both worked in the government offices on the Phoenix.
Osorio must have taken Adele’s silence as meaning that she had not understood the importance of what he had just told her. He leaned forward and said urgently, “The Cinnabar Navy wants the Forty Stars Squadron concentrated around Sunbright with the Funnel Squadron. Then Cinnabar will capture Madison! But Admiral Jeletsky here knows that and he won’t be tricked away. You can see that he’s ready to move at any moment, though. The squadron has been on high alert for twenty days!”
“I see,” Adele said, since she realized that she was expected to say something. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me. With the Principal of Hrynko.”
Osorio started back. There was nothing in her words to disturb him, so he must be reacting to her face.
Adele had been considering options for correcting the situation if she learned that Cinnabar personnel were really behind the rebellion on Sunbright. It certainly wasn’t the section on Kronstadt, but some other element of the RCN might be responsible.
Mistress Sand would need to be informed, but time would be of the essence. It might be best to solve the problem first, then report it. Adele was confident that she and Tovera would be able to take care of the matter without help from Xenos.
“While the Alliance navy can’t catch many of our supply ships,” Osorio said, meaning the blockade runners which were making him and his friends rich, “the Governor of Sunbright has commissioned a private vessel, the Estremadura, which is another matter. It operates in the Madison System—where ships from the Funnel Squadron would not be permitted—and along the route from here to Cremona. It carries ships it captures to a prize court on Westerbeke, where they’re always condemned.”
He puffed up his chest with an air of angry injustice. “And,” he concluded, “they always know the real cargo, no matter how careful the owners have been in creating believable documents!”
“I still don’t see—” Adele began, though in fact she finally had a glimmer of understanding of what the Cremonan was getting at.
“You will see!” Osorio said. “You have a real warship, do you not? You can fight. The port officials here say this.”
“Yes,” said Adele. Her suspicion, unlikely as it had seemed, was correct.
“We will hire you!” Osorio said. “The Friends of Sunbright will hire you to protect our shipping. You will have a Cremonan commission so that you will not be pirates, you need not be afraid. We have power in our government!”
The Government of Cremona is a joke, Adele thought. And if a Cremonan naval vessel attacks an Alliance naval vessel, it’s an act of war. Even if both ships are auxiliaries.
“You are authorized to commit your government and to pay the fee I might demand for undergoing this danger?” Adele said coldly. “I would need proof, which I doubt you could provide.”
She pursed her lips and added, “I would be paid in Alliance thalers. If I were to do this. Or Cinnabar florins, that would be all right.”
“Then you will do it!” Osorio said. Which was, after all, what Adele’s answer implied, despite the qualifiers she had used to couch it. “I do not have this authority, no no, but you will take me to Cremona. The Council of Friends will meet you; and when we have agreed, the government will issue your commission. On my honor as a gentleman of Cremona!”
I have heard oaths that impressed me more, Adele thought. Aloud she said, “I will give this matter thought, Master Osorio. I will inform you if I decide we have anything further to discuss.”
In other words, she thought, I will talk the matter over with Daniel and we will form our strategy together. But I really want to look into your claim that Cinnabar provided missiles at the beginning of the rebellion.
Reacting—again—to Adele’s lack of immediate response, Osorio said, “Come!” as he rose to his feet.
He made an upward gesture with both hands as though he were tossing grain to winnow out the chaff. “We will eat together and you will understand my position. They have good wines here on Madison, very good wines!”
I already understand your position, Adele thought. You, however, don’t appear to have heard a word that I’ve said.
The Cremonan attaché shied again at her expression, which this time pleased her sourly. Aloud but calmly she said, “I now will go about my business. I do not require your presence, Master Osorio. If I wish to see you again, after I have considered your proposals, I will inform you.”
“Can I carry you somewhere?” Osorio said, waving vaguely toward his car.
Not a single word, Adele thought.
“All I want of you,” she said, “is your absence. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Osorio said with a false smile. “Yes, of course, Your Ladyship. We will speak soon!”
He sauntered toward the causeway and his vehicle. Adele watched him for a moment—Osorio was the sort who might suddenly turn ar
ound to offer some further absurd argument—before she took out her data unit. The Principal of Hrynko didn’t have to be a technological illiterate, but Adele hadn’t chosen to emphasize her abilities in front of the Cremonan.
Cory had just sent her a file slugged Doerries. She smiled faintly as she opened it: Cory and Cazelet kept one another very much on their toes when she set them similar tasks. Though either would have been a good assistant regardless.
The smile faded as she viewed the materiel. Cory had searched the database of the Ashetown police, looking for files which were closed with the slug which they had linked to Doerries.
In addition to mentions of the black utility van and the converted warehouse, there were nine files concerning the death and mutilation of street children. Some included images of the bodies, which had mostly been found in the harbor. To Adele’s untrained eye, they were not even identifiable as to gender.
Adele sent a terse message to Tovera, then slipped the data unit into its pocket and turned. Osorio was just past the midway point of the causeway.
Adele began running, a thing she never did; and shouted, another thing she never did, “Master Osorio! I’ll take a ride after all! Master Osorio!”
Tovera would need some time, but Adele wanted to be ready to leave the Princess Cecile as soon as her servant arrived with a suitable van. They had work to do.
“Master Osorio!”
Ashe Haven on Madison
A taxi which had driven up the quay now stopped beside the Savoy. Daniel was surprised when Kiki Lindstrom got out. The Criterion Hotel was only one further block from the water, on the street which paralleled the Harborfront. That distance scarcely required a—
Lindstrom staggered. The tall crewman who had gone to fetch her squeezed out of the taxi behind her and gripped her arm for support. The ship-owner might not be falling-down drunk, but she was well on the way there.
The driver snarled a demand for money. The spacer flung her a bill. Her complaints continued till she looked at it; then she drove off. Daniel wondered how much the crewman had paid in his haste, but that was a problem for a later time.
Lindstrom had the necessary spacer’s ability to walk a gangplank even when she was too drunk to see straight. She marched onto the boarding ramp where Daniel waited for her. Hogg and the other three crewmen stood behind him in the cabin.
“All right, Pensett!” she said in a slurred growl. “What the bloody hell is this? Hargate wouldn’t tell me a bloody thing, just that I had to come. I own this bitch! You don’t give me orders!”
She squinted to take in the group facing her. “And where the bloody hell is Petrov, since everybody else is here?”
“Captain Petrov has resigned, mistress,” Daniel said. He stood at Parade Rest, with his heels six inches apart and his hands clasped behind his back. He met her eyes without flinching. “I will take over his duties. I’m glad to say that the crew—”
He nodded over his shoulder. Hogg grinned like a drunken cherub; the other three men stood as closely to attention as fear and their lack of training allowed them to.
“—have announced their willingness to sail with me as their captain. Under your ultimate command, of course.”
It occurred to Daniel that the crewmen had expected the laser to incinerate him. They were probably more frightened by what they took as an act of insane courage as they were by the beating he and Hogg had given the former captain.
“Resigned?” Lindstrom said, puzzlement replacing anger. She reached the compartment and stood without swaying; the situation seemed to have sobered her.
“He had health problems,” Daniel said, as though he were explaining.
“He’ll stop having any kind of problem if he shows himself around here again,” Hogg said.
“Ah,” said Daniel with a nod. “And I should mention that you’ll find your cargo is short by one laser; which I’m afraid is not repairable, since Captain Petrov brought it to the discussion he forced with me.”
Lindstrom stared as though the words had been in an unfamiliar language; then she began to laugh so violently that she lost her balance again. She would have fallen if Daniel had not held her by the shoulders.
“Is that so, Pensett?” she said between renewed guffaws. “Is that bloody so?”
She hugged Daniel, then stepped away to survey him and the others. “Well,” she said, “maybe that isn’t such a bad thing after all. You’re a pretty sturdy lad to’ve seen off Peter if he came looking for you.”
She pinched him affectionately at the base of the ribs. He grinned but said nothing. Lindstrom was buying only his professional services, and he wasn’t a professional in that field. Still, he saw no need to disabuse the lady until they had lifted from Madison.
“Before we all leave,” said Hogg, “there’s another piece of business. Which is that now that there’s a berth empty, I’ll be coming along.”
He had been looking at Mistress Lindstrom, but now he glared straight at Daniel himself. “This ain’t a question, young master,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice, but nobody could have doubted that he meant it. “It got decided when that jumped-up wog pointed a gun at you. Understood?”
Daniel stood silent for a moment, considering choices. Suddenly he grinned. “Yes,” he said. “Under the circumstances, I think that’s a reasonable decision. As you can see, I’m sure, Mistress Lindstrom.”
Even half drunk, the ship-owner pursed her lips at the statement; again, it wasn’t a question. Then she guffawed.
“Call me Kiki and it’s a deal,” she said. “I’ll even feed him.”
She chucked Daniel under the ribs again.
CHAPTER 11: Ashetown on Madison
“I look forward to hearing from you soon, Your Ladyship!” said Osorio as they settled to the quay beside the Princess Cecile. The aircar’s running lights gleamed from the water of the slip and the wet aluminum surface of the catwalk.
“Thank you,” Adele said, opening the door and getting out. Because the passenger compartment was enclosed, the Cremonan could no longer see her face. She preferred the anonymity, because her mind was far away from Osorio and his problems. “I will inform you of my decision.”
She started across the floating catwalk to the corvette’s boarding ramp. She sniffed. Indeed, her duties to the ship and to the Republic itself were far from her mind. Well, there would be time for them later, if there was a “later.”
“Hail to Lady Principal Henkow!” shouted Gildas, a Technician and one of the spacers on guard in the entrance hold. He was willing and good-hearted, but she had met spaniels whom she thought were of greater intellectual capacity.
This was a typical example of Gildas overdoing a task out of enthusiasm and stupidity. Dasi, the chief of the watch, had been talking on the internal communicator mounted beside the hatch. He turned and snarled Gildas into silence.
The business helped Adele back into what passed for normalcy with her. There was no harm done: the real Principal Hrynko would have stupid, ignorant spacers in a crew she hired also. The aircar purred away behind her.
“Ma’am?” Dasi said. “Six is on his way down here. Ah, Lieutenant Pensett is, you know?”
At least he didn’t shout loudly enough to be heard three slips over, Adele thought grimly. Well, she and Daniel had known all along that most spacers weren’t skilled at deceit; and besides, it was unlikely that anyone was looking for evidence that the Sissie and her crew were not what they pretended to be.
“Why—” she began aloud.
Her question was interrupted—and answered—by the speaker above the main hatch. In Vesey’s voice, it announced, “Ship, this is the captain. In a moment our passenger, Kirby Pensett, will address us from the entry hold. Those of you who do not have access to a good display may either go to the bridge or to the BDC, or join Pensett in person in the hold. Captain out.”
Daniel strode out of the companionway, talking over his shoulder to Hogg. He was wearing mottled RCN utilities without ins
ignia, typical garb for an officer on half-pay who didn’t have family money to fall back on. He caught Adele from the corner of his eye and brightened beyond his normal infectious enthusiasm.
He makes even me happier. Well, less grim.
Daniel bent close to her ear and murmured, “Adele, I’ll be travelling to Cremona and I hope Sunbright as captain of the Savoy. I worked out the details with the owner this evening.”
Hogg, standing close, grunted. Though he wasn’t looking at them, he was certainly listening.
“That is, Hogg and I are going,” he said with an affectionate grin toward his servant.
Spacers were coming down the companion way with bangs and chatter; others pushed in from the axial corridor to the stern. The hold was filling up.
“Excellent,” Adele said. “A Cremonan backer of the rebels wants me to carry him home to meet his consortium. They hope to hire the House of Hrynko to attack an Alliance privateer that is capturing blockade runners leaving Madison.”
Twenty-odd spacers were within the compartment, so she and Daniel were scarcely talking in private. Boots on the steel deck and echoing conversations in a score of hoarse whispers were too loud a backdrop for any crewman to overhear them. It was equally unlikely that it would matter if one of them did.
Daniel pursed his lips. He said, “Do you expect to accept the offer?”
“I wanted to hear your opinion,” Adele said austerely.
No additional crewmen were joining those already in the compartment, though the audience had spilled onto the upper edge of the boarding ramp. It must be about time for Daniel to make his address.
“Yes,” he said, a placeholder as he considered the situation. “I recommend that you take this agent to Cremona and listen to the proposition. It’s likely to give us—”
He grinned broadly.
“—to give you, that is, an opportunity to get information that we couldn’t get any other way. Beyond that—”