The Blockade

by Jean Johnson

  The drug’s vanishing from my blood, but not the draining feeling. I don’t even want to know how much worse things will get if I can’t get turned around and sent back home. Not if this is how bad I feel after just one day’s travel away at faster-than-light.

  An idle thought crossed his mind a few moments later. I wonder how much that Psi League of theirs, or their Witan Orders, might howl at missing this opportunity to record my half of this forced separation? It has to be the longest distance on record by now.

  CHAPTER 2

  V’DAN

  By Terran standards, Jackie’s telepathy was robust, but she could not sense emotions unless she was deliberately seeking out thoughts, and sensed it in the undercurrents of those thoughts, the subthoughts and underthoughts that echoed and roiled beneath the main message. Empaths sensed it the way skin sensed heat and cold, as a constant radiation. The only ones who didn’t radiate emotion constantly—at least, among Humans—were sociopaths. She hadn’t studied enough alien minds yet to know what the ratio of that sort of thing was among non-Humans. But when she touched another being’s thoughts, she did receive a vague impression of their emotions.

  V’Kol’s mind was neatly ordered, his mental composure a sort of shield in and of itself. When she touched his mind, she could sense that he was tense with anxiety, worried as to whether or not he had interpreted her request correctly. If he hadn’t, he was going to feel like a fool, and if he had . . . he didn’t know what she wanted from him, let alone if he could even provide it. He was . . .

  Reaching out, she envisioned inside the edge of his mind the thought of him standing in front of a standard ship cabin door, from the inside of the cabin, and pressed the comm button from the other side.

  . . . Oh! Uh . . . Ja’ki? Ambassador? he thought with exaggerated care. The pink-marked soldier was not a psi, but he did have that organized mind of his, a quick-witted mind capable of realizing her projection was not an idle, random mental imagining.

  (Yes. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I have to know where a mind is to reach out to one in such a crowded location . . . and right now, both of us are probably under surveillance. I dislike going through unofficial channels, but . . . I don’t know what happened to Li’eth, I don’t know what’s going on with your Empress, I don’t think I can trust your Princess Regent or anyone loyal to her right now . . . and I feel like steaming shova v’shakk set at a fifteen-degree angle. I can’t even walk straight without wobbling over, so I can’t go looking for answers personally, as much as I would prefer it.)

  Ah, yes, right. Let me remember what happened, he thought, and marshaled his memories. The images collapsed three, four times, but aside from a mental wince and some subthought-muttered apologies, he just scraped it all back together again, from the time that he caught up with and walked next to the prince in the Guard Hall corridor, to the moments after Li’eth had fallen, when the Elites had eyed V’kol, and he had lifted his hands in surrender, shrugging and backing off. That was the only thing I could think of doing. I didn’t think protesting and getting arrested would help anyone, not him and not you, V’kol insisted, guilt riddling his memories. You do believe me, right?

  (Yes, I believe you. And it was very wise of you,) Jackie reassured him. She reinforced it, and sensed some of his tension easing a little with her sending. (I do feel it was the right thing. Certainly, I would have done the exact same in your position, backing off to let them take him away. You’re not politically or financially powerful, and by keeping yourself clear of any overt resistance or censure, you put yourself in a position to inform us of what actually happened rather than be subjected to rumor. Or worse, propaganda and outright lies. Li’eth may be a V’Dan citizen, not a Terran one, but . . .)

  Someone entered her makeshift infirmary room. Jackie broke off, surprised to see it was Captain Hamza al-Fulan.

  Ja’ki? V’kol asked. Not a Terran one, but . . . ?

  (One moment, the head of my security force is here.) Switching to her voice, she asked, “How is everything going?”

  “We received a summons from the Empress forty minutes ago,” he told her without preamble.

  “Forty minutes . . . ?” Jackie started to ask. Al-Fulan held up his hand, forestalling her questions.

  “I negotiated to go in person with Lieutenant Johnston and a couple others as backup, to see if it really was from her, or if it was a trick of the Regent’s. Empress Hana’ka was amenable to the pre-visit, and it really was her. We didn’t get a lot of time to see her, but she told us her doctors said she would be able to make a full recovery in due time. Apparently they pulled in some of their biokinetics who were also medically trained. V’Dan holy medics. It’s not quite as effective as our own training would have been, but they were able to pull off a few miracles.”

  “Did she say anything about her heir, or the demand we made just before the attack?” Jackie asked, feeling relieved that the Empress of the Eternal Empire would recover but worried that the other woman might side with her too-proud daughter.

  “Yes. She wants to say it to you in person,” al-Fulan told her. “But she did give me leave to forewarn you. She intends to apologize for her heir’s presumptions, to rescind everything Regent Vi’alla asserted, and to bow to our demands to mind-block those who think our lack of jungen equals the right to disrespect us. She also wants to do this formally in a broadcast from her hospital bed, as soon as feasible, which requires your going to see her in person.”

  Deep relief relaxed Jackie into the bed. It even righted for a moment some of her off-kilter sense of balance . . . but only for a moment. Still dizzy, Jackie asked, “And what of her son’s kidnapping?”

  “. . . We didn’t get a chance to discuss that. It was a brief meeting, at the medics’ and Elites’ insistence,” he said.

  Jackie knew that there should not be surprises sprung during public broadcasts. “Please get my questions to her before I go to see her. Where is Li’eth, how fast can we get him back, and who is she going to pick to be her next heir. Warn her that we will not deal with Vi’alla a second time. She becomes Regent again, or even the next Empress outright, and we are gone. Warn her also that I cannot pledge we will stay until I have talked to the Council and seen good-faith gestures from the V’Dan. The evacuation continues as scheduled, though it will end with me on the last ship out of here.”

  “Yes, Ambassador. I’ll get that handled right away. Now, how are you doing?” he asked her. “You look awful, like you’re going to be sick.”

  “It’s not actually nausea, just dizziness . . . but I’m missing half my balance. Getting to Hana’ka’s hospital room is going to be interesting,” she muttered. “I can barely make it to the bathroom as it is without help.”

  “Separation sickness, or a concussion?” he asked.

  “Separation. My head is starting to clear, but I’m still left canted at an angle, like the whole world is an aircraft missing an attitude stabilizer. But beyond the psychic side effects, Doctor de la Santoya swears I’m fine. She’s still trying to find the KI machine and a portable generator so she can monitor my symptoms for Psi League posterity,” Jackie added. “Or she’d be in here now, guarding me.”

  “I’d not have let her guard you on her own if she hadn’t proved herself a pretty deadly shot at close range,” al-Fulan told her. “Even with half a Squad outside, checking identities with palmscanners anytime anyone wants to get into this room, I won’t let anyone in here without trusting their ability and dedication to protect you.”

  That made Jackie blink in surprise. Not the paranoid security measures, which were justifiable under the circumstances, but his comment about Maria. “She’s a marksman?”

  “Not expert rating, but she’s more than good enough at short range. Small firearms, good hand-eye coordination, excellent reflexes, and she knows that people underestimate medical types. Even these V’Dan doctors have their own versi
on of the Hippocratic Oath,” he allowed wryly. “de la Santoya is pragmatic enough to separate out patients from targets, mentally.

  “As it is, there are five Marines stationed outside at all times. Not even the Elites are allowed inside without my personal clearance and a full escort. McCrary is back on the planet and has been handling the rescue and evacuation efforts while you’ve been unconscious, but you’re still senior to her. Oh, and your commission has been reinstated,” he added. “Admiral Nayak’s orders.”

  “His orders?” she asked.

  “If we have to fight and run, both he and the Premiere want you to have a direct say in the decisions to fire or not to fire. You’ll be on the last ship out of the system, in the hopes that the V’Dan will come to their senses at the last minute, but that means you’ll be the most vulnerable to an attack at the end. Admiral-General Kurtz would rather keep you a civilian civil servant,” al-Fulan explained, “but he’s back home, and the Premiere’s a man who believes in the leadership at the front lines having the final say, not the ones at the rear. Same as the Admiral, and Admiral Nayak is leaving right about now to oversee the safety of the route home.”

  “Ugh. Great. What am I now? A Brigadier General? A Rear Admiral? Something with three or four stars?” Jackie asked sarcastically. The first time she’d had her officer’s commission resurrected, she had gone from Lieutenant Commander to Major, a lateral move out of Navy designations to avoid being called Captain and being confused with the Navy version, which was technically higher in rank than al-Fulan’s Marines version. The second time, she’d been elevated from Major to Colonel.

  “I’m afraid it’s neither, and yet both, sir.”

  “What?” she asked, not following along.

  “You’re still a Colonel . . . but you’re also now a Colonel, a Colonel, and a Vice-Commodore, sir,” al-Fulan stated blandly.

  Jackie gaped at him. She couldn’t even form a question; his reply boggled her that much.

  Her head of security tipped his head. “To be precise, you have been given a rank in each of the four Branches. Colonel for the other three and Vice-Commodore for the Navy. Scuttlebutt has it the Admiral-General and the Premiere went head to head over the matter. Kurtz says you don’t have enough experience to be elevated to three- or four-star, and Callan says you need to be able to command all four Branches at a moment’s notice, which only the Command Staff ‘tier’ can do. Someone, I don’t know who, suggested just putting you in charge of each Branch separately, and after a quick review, the DoI approved Vice-Commodore, Colonel, and Colonel, and so here you are, a four-part officer.”

  Shutting her mouth, Jackie rolled her eyes. “. . . Tell me you did not just make a V’Dan-style joke about our military, with that ‘tier’ bit.”

  “Is that an order, sir?” he quipped blandly. When she gave him a dirty look, the Marine Corps captain shrugged. “Giving you a rank in all four Branches means you can give direct chain-of-command orders for everyone out here. That is, once Admiral Nayak is gone. Nayak’s pulling out right now, McCrary is scheduled to depart at the midpoint with me on board for military oversight, and you’re on the last ship out of here with Buraq for your security lead, in the hopes that this charlie foxtrot can be salvaged at the last minute.

  “If it can be, you’ll be in charge of the military forces that are still in transit. If it can’t be . . . you’re the rear guard. Sorry, sir,” he added in apology.

  That quirked her brows. “I thought the Empress . . . ?” He shook his head, and she reasoned it through. “. . . Of course not. Not until we are back to being allies, firmly and formally recognized as such, and enforced as such. Vague reassurances aren’t enough. Neither are verbal promises, anymore. Which means the next few hours or days are critical and depend quite a lot on how the V’Dan actually act and react . . . So. When exactly does Her Eternity want to meet with me?”

  “Since she knows you’re awake, in another two hours,” her head of security told her. “She has a few more treatments to go through, probably some primping before the on-camera stuff begins, and I figured you’d want to have your own self checked over and given time for a shower and a fresh change of clothes. If we can get to your things and get them out again in one piece.”

  “Maria told me the easy path to my quarters was torpedoed,” she agreed. Staring up at the bland, golden-beige ceiling, she thought a few moments. “Try Master Sergeant Zinchelle, if her quarters are still intact. She’s about the same size and shape as I am, and I should be able to fit into her Dress Blacks if you cannot get ahold of mine. I’ll also need a ride there,” she said. “My whole world is still canted to the left. I can walk a straight line for a very short distance, but it saps my strength, so it’s best to conserve it for as long as possible, and that means strictly for the cameras.”

  “Yes, you don’t want to look weak in front of the V’Dan—the ones watching the broadcast,” he concurred. “We need to discuss worst-case scenarios, though. You’re feeling weakened and disoriented, no doubt by that Salik weapon they used to stun the prince. But also probably from the distance separating the two of you. At some point, that distance may incapacitate you, Ambassador.”

  “I know. I need . . .” Jackie trailed off, realizing she needed to do something else. “Give me a few minutes to think,” she compromised, and when he nodded and fell silent, she reached out telepathically to V’kol. (I apologize for the delay. The Empress is awake, aware, and requesting my presence in just a couple hours.)

  That is a huge relief, V’kol thought back at her. For a moment, his subthoughts were muddied, then he enunciated mentally, Wait, are you certain she is awake? Not to malign the Princess Regent, but . . . well, yes, to malign her. She acted like a massive idiot . . . and please don’t tell anyone I thought that.

  (Relax, V’kol, your thoughts are your own; I will not share them with anyone outside of a mandatory mind-scan to make sure I have only used my gifts ethically . . . and this counts as ethically. Captain al-Fulan investigated the Empress’ situation personally.)

  Good. So . . . does this mean we don’t have to sneak around anymore?

  (I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of it, either,) Jackie agreed quickly. (But we Terrans still have no idea if we can trust anything that Vi’alla says or does, or even says she isn’t doing. And I don’t know how badly injured Her Eternity is, including if she’s well enough to take back her power full-time. That could leave Vi’alla partially in charge and make things very awkward for V’Dan-Terran relations.)

  She is too full of herself. Too proud of being V’Dan . . . which is an indictment against most of my people, V’kol agreed. The former gunnery officer hesitated, then asked, Would you like me to keep my ears open to any gossip? I don’t want to betray my people, but letting you Terrans leave without at least trying to fix things between us would be a betrayal, too. A deeper one, in a way.

  (I know. I feel the same way. And yes, keep an ear open for gossip. But . . . don’t compromise your oaths of service, V’Kol,) she told him. (Nothing actively working against the good of your Empire. You can be our friend without breaking any vows to your people. I wouldn’t have asked that much even if the Empress hadn’t woken up.)

  V’kol mentally nodded. Thankfully, she did. You do realize, of course, that you Terrans will have to open up your interstellar comm satellites in order to transmit the orders that will bring the prince home swiftly, right?

  (That . . . will have to be discussed. Wait in the garage while I send someone to you to say that I’m not coming. That’s so no one thinks we’ve been having a telepathic conversation,) she directed. (This is private. No information was shared that wasn’t or will not be public knowledge soon, either way, but there’s no need to shout it from the rooftops either. So to speak.)

  Right.

  (Thank you, V’kol, for being our friend. I will hopefully be able to talk with you in person later.)

&n
bsp; Hopefully. I’ll wait for that messenger, now.

  She had the impression of a smile from him, tinged with wistfulness. Focusing her thoughts back on the officer at her side, she shrugged and looked at the patiently waiting Hamza. “If anything goes wrong with me, we’ll just have to continue with Rosa as my second. If anything happens to me, she’s in charge. If I turn paranoid and delusional from panic and anxiety . . . sedate me and put her in charge.

  “If anything happens to both of us, and Admiral Nayak is immediately reachable for consultation, he is in charge,” Jackie instructed her security officer. “And if he is not, you are in charge, followed by Lieutenant Buraq . . . because if both McCrary and I go down, it’ll probably be a set of problems worthy of a declaration of war. At the very least, a retreat under armed rear guard. You and Jasmine will have seniority for those circumstances, at that point.”

  Nodding, al-Fulan pulled out an organizer tablet and started tapping in information. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’m going to assign an escort guard wherever you go, with orders to sedate and catch you if you go beyond acceptable anxiety levels.”

  “Good. Oh, and since I’ll be busy visiting the Empress, please send someone down to the hangar bay to let Leftenant Kos’q know that I won’t be able to join him for that word game I requested earlier,” she added.

  “Of course, sir.” He didn’t question the order though he did shoot her a brief look. Jackie ignored it. Information gathering was not illegal, so long as in doing so, those involved broke no laws . . . and so long as a government official did not bribe anyone or be bribed at any point to invent, accept, or ignore that information. Instead, he had a different question. “Under what circumstances do we unlock the hyperrelay probes?”

  “When the V’Dan government accepts and upholds our demands for proper displays of respect, and mind-blocks for those who refuse to give it . . . and for when each of the other Alliance governments agree, including planetary governors per system,” she added, thinking of that Solarican planetary leader that had demanded access to their interstellar communications ability while being rude to her delivery crew. “Everything remains in lockdown until then, government by government, system by system.