Of course, Har thought the man was a complete idiot. The way he fawned over her and tried to make her feel special. Heck, Har thought, here again, if it wasn’t for his keen eyes, his elusive deception techniques and his bravado under extreme stress conditions, none of these yahoos would have even known about the friggin’ consipracy. Now, his mother was getting all of the attention from the captain and the admiral and especially this yokel from the Nova Haven Police Department. Liaison Officer? What did that even mean? They should send this guy back to the station house and send that cool Lieutenant Lopez back over here.
Having played all of his nicer cards last evening, Sergeant Royal was now throwing down the big boppers, Har figured. He comes in here with a travel bag, so he must be going with us to Bayliss. How could they let a civilian cop get on a ship with hardened Navy professionals such as himself? Har was perplexed.
His mother waved him over to the side of the conference room. Their “staging area” one of the other officers had called it. The only thing Har saw as staged was this sneaky policeman’s attitude.
“Isn’t this great, Harold? Sergeant Royal is going to Bayliss with us! He’s the go-between guy for the Haven PD. We’ll have our own security contingent!”
His mother’s embolism was not funny. No wait, he thought, that was the wrong word. Her ebullition was not funny, he corrected himself. She was grinning so hard her face was going into eclipse. “That’s good, Mom,” was all he could manage. Sergeant Ken Royal was not as tall as some of the Christi officers and he had none of their swagger. He was maybe thirty-two, lean and muscular and wore what to Har looked inappropriate clothing for the job of a policeman. He always had on a suit and tie and a shiny shirt with color-coordinated buttons. And his stupid dress shoes were shiny with little tassels hanging off them. Not the kind of rugged khaki clothes that Lieutenant Lopez wore, with those sharp creases and the utilitarian-looking hiking boots.
But Max seemed to flourish in the light of his attention and some of her edginess melted away whenever that dopey guy was around. Her attention was not really focused on him anymore, she was not always correcting him, grimacing everytime he opened his mouth to say something.
Hey, Har thought, maybe this could turn into a pretty neat diversion for her. He had never seen her act this way about anybody in the past. Nobody except his father.
“Is he going to let me shoot his gun, Mom? Or maybe put in one of those requisition things so I can have one too, just in case he forgets what his duties are,” he said while he focused his dark eyes on the interloper.
“Harold! What a thing to say! Now you apologize to Sergeant Royal this minute,” Max wailed. Several heads in the conference room turned in their direction.
“Actually, I thought that was pretty funny,” Ken said. “He’s just reminding me that he’s capable of looking out for you as well, Max.”
She looked back and forth between them. Ganging up on her, were they? “Oh, I see, it’s a guy thing, is it?”
“This is a difficult time for all of us. Don’t be so hard on him,” Ken said.
What was this? Someone coming to his defense? And a cop at that? Har grinned a sinister little smile. “You heard the man, Mom. Lighten up. Sheesh.”
Max put her hand to her chest and frowned for a split second. Recovered, she said, “Don’t get too mannish, Har. You just remember who’s the lieutenant and who’s the sergeant,” she scolded him, putting them both in their respective places at the same time.
“Yes, ma’am,” Har said sheepishly. He seemed to know when he crossed that invisible line with her.
“And as for you, sergeant,” she said turning to Ken Royal, “if I ever catch you even letting him look at your gun, I’ll have you dispatched back to Elber so fast you’ll get back before the ship does.”
He held up both hands. “Easy, Max, that was his suggestion, not mine.”
She burst out laughing and pointed to them both. “Gotcha. Got you good!” she laughed. She reached out and pulled Harold into a big motherly hug. “You protect all you want, honey. You’ll always be my first line of defense. Who knows, the sergeant here might be one of those aliens you’re always so worried about.”
He pushed out his bottom lip and shook his head. “Nope. I already checked out his hands. They’re real hands, Mom.”
Ken held out his hands, turned them over a few times for her. “See, he’s right. No alien here,” he said.
Har looked at the policeman and gave him a quick nod before he stomped away. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all, he thought. At least it was good to hear his mother laugh again.
* * *
What Lieutenant Colonel Yaguud told him was no laughing matter. Inskaap could feel the noose tightening and he didn’t like the feeling. After so many years being the object of fear for so many people, now he had something to be afraid of.
“You knew all along that Phatie had his own people on Elber, Bayliss and the others. You shouldn’t act so surprised.”
“I’m more worried than surprised, Yaguud.”
The two men were sitting at the same back table they always used. After the perfunctory cat and mouse game at the beginning of the meeting, Yaguud had joined Inskaap just as before, bringing over his carafe of voojhie. Then he’d spun out an incredible story gained by intimidation and angry threats. One of Phatie’s junior office functionaries had spilled the contents of a very sensitive message.
The Piru Torgud was ready to launch his attack in two weeks. He had received the arrival schedule of the human trade delegation. After stops on Wilkes and Canno to pick up trade representatives interested in doing business with the Domain, they were all on the way to Canuure, one civilian transport shadowed by two Colonial Navy fast-attack boats. They should be jumping the border of the “Fringe” space within 170 human hours. Bale Phatie had alerted all commands and revisited the shipyards and weapons facilities. He had amassed over 300 ships, two million soldiers and sailors, and by week’s end some of his super weapons were thought to be near completion. He had also constructed a Colonial Navy destroyer based on the stolen plans of the Mobile Bay.
Phatie was armed, dangerous and ready.
“You should be worried. Your name was mentioned in the dispatch. It seemed that Phatie was not pleased with your handling of the Elber situation. He’s going to hold you personally responsible for losing the initiative with that Commander Yorn thing.”
“Losing the initiative. Is that what it’s called these days?” Inskaap said in a breathless murmur.
“Call it anything you want, but, sir, If I were you, I would be making exit plans.”
Inskaap adjusted his weight in his seat. Exit plans? Where the hell was he supposed to go? “You’re forgetting your role in all of this, Yaguud. If I fall, then so do you. It would just be a matter of time before his gaze found you.”
Huuer Yaguud looked around the tiny restaurant. Two of the tables in the front were occupied by a couple of older women, out enjoying a tasteless lunch on their way from the marketplace no doubt. The serving girl at the counter paid the back table no attention at all, being used to their clandestine meetings.
“I already have a way out, sir,” Yaguud whispered. “I’ve already paid for it, too. I have some, shall we say, ‘contacts’ here in the city.”
Inskaap sat up straighter. Of course. Someone at that dive bar. Maybe Yaguud wasn’t the lush he had thought him to be. “Where to?”
He looked around again before answering. “Bayliss. For me and my family. One way tickets on a private boat.”
The colonel shook his head. “And you expect to find sanctuary there? Among our enemies? Your lack of planning is incredible Yaguud.”
The young officer held his head down for a minute and then squared up his gaze on his superior. “I have made arrangements to be given safe haven by the humans. I will be helping their intelligence efforts.”
Inskaap set his jaw. This weasel was admitting to planning treason against the Ma
lguur Domain! He could be shot on the spot! He took a sip of his brew and let the aromatic liquid slide down his throat while he put together his thoughts. “How was this arranged? Who are your contacts?”
“That,” Yaguud said in a defiant voice, “I will not reveal. Giving up that information will get me killed. And my family.”
The IS colonel wiggled his right shoulder and produced three sharp taps on the underside of the table. “Tell me what you know, colonel, or I will shoot you where you sit and think nothing more about you. Then I will visit your home and proceed to dismember your lovely wife and set your two children on fire. I have prepared for your little show of defiance,” he said and retrieved a little recorder from his inside pocket with his free hand. “Every utterance you have made, Yaguud, from day one. I have you talking treason as well as bribing the Piru Torgud’s confidential staff, not to mention participating in numerous petty crimes and misdemeanors while under the colors of your badge.”
Yaguud blanched as the words came out. How could he have been so stupid! Now he has put his entire family in jeopardy. He took a long drink from his cup and sat back. Over the next five minutes he told Inskaap about the details of his escape route and the contact information he would use once he got to Bayliss. By the time he finished, bitter tears were stinging his eyes.
Colonel Zuure Inskaap stood and motioned to the two women operatives in the front of the restaurant. Before they got back to his table he shot Yaguud twice in the middle of his forehead at point-blank range.
* * *
Davi Yorn was finally summoned from the little toilet and the Varson escorts re-tied his hands and feet. They did not replace the blinding hood or retape his mouth. One of the men was brandishing a sidearm, a malevolent looking piece of blackened metal with a huge bore. A projectile weapon of some kind. Yorn wondered if the man knew what would happen if he tried to shoot that thing off in this speeding magnetic bottle of a ship.
He was pushed down into a row of flimsy seats and his side scraped against the metal armrests between them. He held his yelp and gritted his teeth against the pain.
The armed Varson guard took up a position across a small aisle from him and his companion disappeared somewhere forward. He heard a hatchway open and close. Probably the man went forward to the control cabin of this ship. It was a small boat with practically no amenities. All of the seats were threadbare and the metal floor grates showed signs of heavy foot traffic over an unusually long period. The fittings around the stowage compartments rattled and screeched as the ship bounced along its trajectory. The observation ports had been closed and sealed giving no view of the outside environment. Yorn couldn’t tell if this bucket of bolts was an atmospheric flyer or a ship making fold distances even though he doubted the latter due to the decrepit condition of the vessel.
The second man came back and took the weapon. Then Guard Number One, the guy with the sloppy Elberese, headed forward. Yorn tried to be very nonchalant in his appraisal of his surroundings and his adversaries. He had seen two Varsons and he suspected at least two more were behind the forward bulkhead piloting this craft. Possibly one more man aft taking care of the power plant. He saw no need for any more. This was to him a shoestring operation and one put together quickly and at low cost.
What he didn’t know was that his assessment of his situation was completely inaccurate.
This plan had been worked on for years at extremely high cost to the Malguur Domain. He only saw what they wanted him to see.
Chapter 25
Unfazed by all of the commotion around her, Niki Mols was preparing her anticipated dialogue with her uncle. She knew he would be sending for her shortly. That was his way. She was like a precious stone to him, one that had at one time belonged to family jewels that no longer existed. Admiral Paine’s youngest sister Vivian, her mother, had been killed along with her father in a freak accident when Niki was only three years old. She was the only surviving member of his family and he treated her like royalty, like an heirloom.
And for her part, she considered him more than an uncle. He was both mother and father and protector. He had managed her education, got her into the Fleet Academics Program at an early age, had given her more opportunities than the common law allowed.
She had repaid him by being the brightest star in his personal universe, one that out shined all others.
“Hey, lady, whatcha thinking about? You look like you’re a little lost down here.”
Mols looked down at Har. He was a cute kid but it seemed to her he needed a little more structure in his life. Something he would definitely get once they put him in the military school on Bayliss. She had a few encounters with the little man back on the Christi and although she found him humorous at times, with all of the things playing out in her head right now, this was not going to be one of those times. “Hey, yourself, Harold. You see these bars on my collar, young man? They say I’m a lieutenant in the Navy, not just some ‘lady’.”
“How come you have two bars now, just like my mom? When we were on the ship you only had one. You get a promotion or something?”
“In fact, I did.”
“Well, congratulations then. What’s that other thing mean, the one on the other collar? Looks like a spyglass and a feather,” Har said pointing at her tunic.
“That rank insignia is from the Intelligence Services, specifically it means that I am a certified bad-ass. And that’s a quill pen, not just some feather.”
Har took a step back. “Well, my mom has lightning bolts on her collar. Three or four of them. It means she’s a certified communications IT person. Something like that.”
“Yes, I know. When you get to school, you’ll have a few courses in naval history and you’ll get to know most of the ranks and rates before long,” she said. She was beginning to tire of him.
“Well, how’re they gonna know what kind of insignia to pin on me? I haven’t seen one with a gun to an alien’s brain. None of the guys on the Christi had anything like that on their uniforms.”
She had to laugh. There was something about this kid you just couldn’t help but like. She pursed her lips and whispered, “There are some secret insignias that we wear, but only on special missions. They are so scary that the admiral won’t let us wear them in public. You know, they frighten the little kids.”
He didn’t know if she was bullshitting him or not. That sounded like some lame stuff he would have said himself. “Well, if you get the chance, lieutenant, I mean, when we get to Bayliss, I’d sure like for you to show them to me. I’m twelve, I can take it.” He actually saluted her before turning in the direction of Milli Gertz and Commander Mason.
Boy, she wondered, was I ever like that?
* * *
Standing on the bridge of the modified human warship Bale Phatie marveled at its compactness and agility. He wasn’t sure as to its original Fleet designation but since this fire-breathing monster belonged to the Domain, he could call it anything he damned well pleased.
His tight schedule did not call for a formal push-back or roll-out ceremony. That kind of folly was left to those races with nothing better to do than celebrate their own cleverness and advertise it to their mindless citizens. No, this ship was a closely guarded secret and he intended to keep it that way.
Captain Guuire was putting the ship through its paces for the Piru Torgud and so far everything was performing better than the specs dictated. “As I told you a few days ago, my eminence, the simple matter of the burned out coil was easily repaired. All of the weapon systems are fully operational and available. Should I demonstrate them to you?”
Phatie turned from the forward bulge they called the blister. That was some useless Elberese nomenclature he had no use for. The thing was nothing more than a huge convex viewing screen visible from just about any location on the bridge. “Need I remind you that we have neither time nor energy to waste on demonstrations, captain? These space trials assume that you have worked out all the bugs in the weapons bay and yo
u are now testing this ship’s drive capabilities and defensive shields. Is that not correct?”
“That is correct. Forgive my thoughtlessness.”
“I want to see this new drive mechanism in operation. The thing you refer to as the Dyson. If my understanding is correct, your engineers, under the direction of Admiral Koraath, have managed to meld our technology with theirs. I want to see the results of that unholy marriage.”
“At your pleasure, sir. If you will excuse me, I will make ready the boat. We need to increase our speed to reach the human drive threshold.”
Phatie looked at the bridge crew. They did not seem worried about any of this. Either they were extremely brave or they had full confidence in the Malguur engineers, something Phatie himself did not fully believe in. “Show me, captain, and you may spare me the technical details. I am more interested in results than I am in an engineering treatise.”
Guuire thumped his chest and turned to his helmsman. “Bisseer, turn the boat and make the angle two four two degrees. Set the course for the Alpha Quadrant and take us to the outer marker around Nahuure.” In Guuire’s world, the circle was divided into three hundred parts and each degree was equivalent to an arc of one Malguurian AU — Astronomical Unit — set at a distance of 1,000 AUs.
The helm complied and the ship shuddered to port. “And you say this ship maintains this gravity throughout its journey? How is that possible, Captain Guuire?”
“We aren’t sure. We built the field generator and turned the thing on when the ship was cut loose by the tug. The manuals called it a Higgs Field. As best as we can determine, it harnesses electrical energy and turns it into gravitons by using magnetism.”
Phatie gave the captain a harsh look. That technical information was nothing more than a distraction to him. He repeated his demand for less information. Guuire thumped his chest again and turned to the task of demonstrating the new drive system to his boss. If the Piru Torgud was complaining about the details of the Higgs, if he explained the Dyson to Phatie he would probably be shot on the spot. No use trying to explain how the fold works. Might as well just call the whole process a magic trick or a flying carpet ride.
The Belt Loop_Book Two_Revenge of the Varson Page 15