I wasn’t sure I agreed with that younger person anymore, but ultimately if a man couldn’t even trust himself he had nothing. It would take more than a few beat downs in the name of ‘speaking truth to tyranny’ to turn me to the dark side. A whole lot more.
On the other hand, I was no one’s punching bag and as soon as my fleet was repaired, refurbished and crewed up the world would rediscover it. It wasn’t my fault if the people who spat on me and called me names got all sorts of wrong ideas the next time I had reason to parade a fleet past their home worlds.
Then there was the little matter that I was no longer a governmental servant and the fact I was willing to die for the people of the Spine didn’t mean my officers and crew worked for free. To my mind, far too many idealistic heroes, so-called, felt that because they were willing to work for free then the band of brothers who followed them into peril naturally shared the same ideal—or at least they should.
As the history of House Montagne made painfully obvious, if you didn’t pay your warriors and servants what they were worth, it didn’t matter the righteousness of your cause, you’d wake up with a knife inside you.
Then the people really wouldn’t have their selfless defender any longer. Of course that was those heroes, who said I wasn’t interested in being paid?
Thanks to my overzealous wife, I now had an oversized family and a palace to maintain.
Nope, I may be a fool for throwing myself between the Spine and danger but no one took advantage of underaged children—my children.
No one.
I was a man. I stood between the darkness and the light and if that meant I had to suffer, bleed and even die to pay for the sins of my fathers then I would. But if I had to make like the renegade who had it made in order to take care of those kids, I would. There was very little I wouldn’t do for those children.
Almost nothing.
It ended with me.
Chapter 24: Spalding’s Reprisal
He was the very model of a recently returned space engineer
“One more jump and we should be there,” reported Shepherd.
“This is taking too long,” Spalding fumed.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t pack enough hyper fuel to get us home, and besides this cutter is P.O.S. You should have picked something faster if you didn’t want to slow boat it home,” said the Navigator.
“This was what was available. Besides, it’s not my fault we ran out of trillium,” Spalding said defensively, “the Spindles said there was more than enough for two more jumps! We were supposed to have enough to get back to Gambit and then make a jump to Tracto for more!”
“And you trusted that buggy interface? Murphy's sake, Spalding. Between that and this POS cutter you pulled out of the scrap yard we’re lucky we only broke down once—and even luckier you were able to fix it!” the Navigator said fiercely.
“Hey now, don’t talk down about Murphy’s Chariot,” Spalding said looking around nervously. “Remember the last time you were talking down about this old son he went belly up like a frog in a pot of stew?”
“That’s just gross and you know it,” Shepherd said with disgust and then looked around nervously, “besides, you know I don’t go in for all that superstitious nonsense.”
“Well whatever you call it, don’t jinx us,” Spalding said, walking over to what passed for a captain’s chair in the cutter. He promptly knocked on the small piece of wood set aside just for that purpose.
“We’re only one jump away from home. All the Chariot has to do is make it through one more jump. At least you loaded up this cutter with enough hyper fuel,” he informed the old engineer in a withering voice.
“Bah. I done told you, boy: the Spindles had more than enough fuel. Something went haywire,” Spalding muttered, “I knew that last jump was too smooth! Not a single creepy crawly to be seen and no flickers on the sensors. Nothing. It's just unnatural I tell you.”
“What are you talking about? Did you break into the iced ale while I wasn’t looking or are there some drugs on this cutter I don’t know about and maybe should?” asked Shepherd.
Spalding’s eyebrows beetled. “Just you mind to your business and leave top secret classified business to the professionals,” he growled angrily, “if I say that last jump was off then by the Sweet Saint it was off, do you hear me? What you think, I’m some kind of old man that needs to be put out to pasture? Is that it?” he asked, pulling out a plasma torch and brandishing it in the direction of the Navigator.
Navigator Shepherd’s eyes bulged. “No-no-no. You’ve always talked funny. No one can understand it I swear, Sir. I’m sure if you say there’s something wrong with the Spindles there is,” he said getting up from his console and backing away, “what do I know, anyway?”
“Just make the jump, lad, and don’t make me put you in cryo when we get back,” warned the old Engineer, advancing on the younger man.
“My lips are sealed. If anyone asks about a trip, I’ll say 'what trip?' If they ask where we went, I’ll say we lost the data files,” swore Shepherd.
“You’ll keep that yap trap of yours snapped when we get back if you know what’s good for you,” threatened Spalding, “as far as you’re concerned, the only person cleared to hear so much as how we broke wind on this trip is the Little Admiral himself. If anyone asks you, send them to me,” his thumb thumped into his chest.
“You got it, sir. I’ll make like a church mouse,” said the navigator.
“Good, because I may not be the only one who knows the codes for the waste recyclers to disassemble organics but I do have them,” said Spalding.
“Sweet Murphy, what crawled into you and died to make your mood so sour? I said I can keep a secret,” Shepherd started to sound indignant about the same time his back hit the wall. “When have I ever let you or the Admiral down, Commander?” he said in an aggrieved tone.
“Hmph,” Spalding loudly turned away and replaced the plasma torch onto his belt before once again rounding back on the Navigator, “the fate of the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet certainly and maybe even the Spine rests on what we know. I won’t have any slackers or welchers ruining it, understand?”
“Five by five, Sir,” said the Navigator carefully returning to his console, “you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve gone the distance.”
“I suppose you have at that,” Spalding allowed finally.
“Look, we’re past the point of no return and are about to reach the final countdown, Commander,” said the Navigator, pointing to his screen which seconds later started flashing.
Spalding’s cheeks puffed out, “Time to face the music.”
Then there was a flash and the small cutter was in another star system.
Chapter 25: Worry and Advise on the Home Front
I stood there silently pacing back and forth in front of the small work station built into the Admiral’s quarters. Walking was thinking or at least that was the idea, not that much thinking was taking place while I walked from one end of the room to the other. But what little was going on was key, because I was afraid if I was just sitting there I would literally be doing nothing but staring at the walls.
“Would you please stop moving back and forth like that? You’ll wear a hole in the carpet,” complained my wife.
I gave an appropriate response to this potential destruction of utterly replaceable material:
I grunted.
Akantha waited for me to walk another two laps before sighing in frustration.
The tapping sound her foot was making slowly penetrated my incessant pacing and I ground to a halt. The noise was irritating, but it wasn’t worth commenting on. Not when I’d apparently been just as irritating.
On the counter side of the situation, I’d been in here first and had said I needed to think when she came in. Not that I expected logic like 'first come first served' or 'late comers be warned' to have any impact on my wife.
“Yes?” I said, throwing myself into the nearest chair.
“Rough day?” she asked.
I nodded.
“You look like I feel after a morning spent with the governing council,” Akantha offered.
I briefly considered throwing a fit over not being allowed to properly stew and discarded it. What was I, sixteen?
“I’m just worried about Spalding,” I said tersely. I didn’t want to talk about the situation. I wanted to be doing something. What I really wanted to do was fix this situation. Preferably by recovering my top engineer, but even a certified proof of death would be better than not knowing.
“What’s happened now?” she asked, and I realized for the first time that I hadn’t relayed the news to her yet.
“Well,” I said awkwardly, “he’s gone missing.”
She looked surprised but not as concerned as I’d feared.
“I gave him a job and its possible he’s out doing that, but he didn’t tell me beforehand and now both Spalding and my Jump Spindles are gone. Two strategic resources missing without a trace!” I exclaimed.
“Not to mention he’s one of our top advisers,” Akantha said calmly.
“I’d rather have him back than the Spindles, but I don’t even have an idea where to start,” I said, leaning back in my chair wearily.
“Where exactly did you send him?” she asked curiously.
“I didn’t send him anywhere. He was supposed to find a quiet, out of the way place to stash a few ships without letting anyone know. I didn’t think he’d be keeping the location a secret from me,” I said.
“That’s not good,” Akantha replied.
“Ya think?” I shook my head when she started to look irritated, “I’ve got the Yard Manager looking into the disappearance. So far we’ve tracked down the most probable place for him to have slipped out of the Star System. So when combined with the missing Spindles, it looks like he wasn’t quietly murdered and thrown into a furnace or recycler at least.”
“That’s comforting,” she said.
“How is that comforting?”
“Spalding’s one of the smartest men I know. If he got himself into trouble, he will be able to get himself back out again. Right now your main concern should be keeping that secret of yours,” she advised with a glint in her eye, “to be brutally honest, you probably shouldn’t have even told me.”
“I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve seen enough trouble with marriages; I want to avoid that mistake,” I said.
“Then maybe you should have involved me from the beginning. Either way there’s nothing either of us can do right now,” she said.
I ran fingers through my hair. “You’re right. There’s nothing that can be done right now. I’ll make sure any anomalous FTL transmissions or messages are routed to me immediately and keep a watch on the slower than light listening bands but I think that’s all we can do,” I said with a nod, “we’ve already gone through his files and there’s nothing there.”
“Unless he was hiding them somehow,” Akantha pointed out.
“On what, a secret slate hidden in the walls?” I joked.
“Secret papers perhaps? Your culture doesn’t always consider looking for the written word on anything but your computers,” she noted coolly.
I paused. “That’s a good idea,” I said, making a note to send to my Chief of Staff later in the day.
“Anything else?” Akantha asked with a smile.
I considered her words briefly. “Sure there is. How are the kids doing?” I asked with a smile.
Akantha’s smile turned genuine. “Little Sapphira can already count to three as of today,” she said with pride.
“Of course she can,” I chuckled.
She looked at me quizzically.
“I’ve been reading them the story of the Three Little Pigs and I make sure to count to 3, one-two-three, each time,” I said with a smile.
Her smile turned into a mock frown. “You and your secrets,” she said, eyeing me.
“Hey, I tell them bedtime stories when you’re around too. Jack and the Beanstalk. Mama and the Three Bears,” I shrugged.
“I don’t like that last one,” she informed me.
I looked at her innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That one’s the best,” I immediately disagreed, “I can’t help it if the story has the mama break into the bears' home to steal their food,” I said, splaying my hands.
“Why do I find it so hard to believe you?” she muttered, still giving me the eye.
I smiled complacently. “No idea. But about Spalding… thanks for the ear. I didn’t know I needed someone to talk to,” I said.
“Or perhaps someone in particular?” she prompted.
“You could be right,” I grinned, still thinking about the creative retelling the story about the three bears that I told to wide-eyed children every three or four nights.
Chapter 26: A Small Dose of Hot Water
Murphy’s Chariot arrived in a flash of light.
“By all that’s rotten, why in thunder did you turn on the running lights and scan the system like we were going into a war zone!” Spalding demanded angrily.
Shepherd looked at him blankly. “What are you talking about? We just arrived back in Gambit. If we try to sneak around we’re going to draw exactly the wrong sort of attention. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want a guard ship to roast us extra crispy just because we didn’t identify ourselves, sir!” the Navigator retorted.
“Yes. But…there was no,” Spalding spluttered to a stop finger pointed at the young officer impotently. He curled the finger back into a fist. “Look, I just don’t want to turn this into a spectacle. We need to ease back into the situation before everyone goes crazy.”
“Were we honestly supposed to try and sneak back into the Star System? Spalding, we were nearly marooned! We’ve been missing for a week and we were good and lucky we made it back as it was. Did you honestly think they'd go, 'oh, a navigator and our top engineer must have decided to take a sabbatical' and failed to notice the missing set of Jump Spindles that disappeared around the same time?” asked Shepherd.
Spalding visibly swelled, and then as he glowered down at the navigator, deflated.
“I can see now it was too much to hope for,” he said finally, “if we’d come back like I’d planned none of this would be necessary.”
“Right you are, Commander,” Shepherd said with an evil chuckle.
“But you’re wrong about something,” Spalding grumped. “We were never so much as in the same star map as marooned. Like I told you in the first place: this ship would get us home, and here we are,” he finished with complete certainty.
“If you ignore a small breakdown along the way. And by 'small' I mean two full-fledged disasters! First the Elder Spindles stop working partway through, and then this cutter almost goes belly up,” Shepherd said and then frowned, “and that’s another thing. I mean...how does that even work? How can you have a short jump that doesn’t fall short by a few astronomical units, but something like half the distance and lands you in the wrong star system entirely? That’s no simple calculation error.”
“You’re bothering yourself with things that aren’t your concern. It's alien technology, and not just that, it’s old. So old it makes me look like a spring chicken. Of course it's buggy! Why, I would have been surprised if something didn’t go wrong now and then,” the old Engineer said firmly.
“Now and then? If you’re using the Spindles expecting them to fail, then they’re way beyond buggy. They’re flat out death traps!” snapped the Navigator.
“None of that now,” Spalding said severely, “this is the military, not the baker’s union. Just like the private sector, we expect results! How do you think we’ve been winning here?”
“Well…” Shepherd paused.
“I don’t wave my magic wand and squirt fairy dust in the Empire’s face and expect to win. Life’s a long string of risks. To my m
ind, any jump you can walk away from is a successful jump, and any ship that gets you home in the end without being killed or irradiated is a good one,” said the old Engineer, proudly patting the duralloy walls of the cutter.
Shepherd’s console flashed.
“I’m glad you feel that way because you’re about to get the chance to explain everything to a man who thinks he’s in charge of Gambit,” the Navigator replied with dark humor. “We’re being challenged by the system guard patrol.”
Spalding looked at the plot showing every ship, habitat, station and mining operation that the little cutter’s myopic eyes could see and frowned.
“Put whoever it is on. I’ll deal with them,” said the Commander.
“Nothing would please me more,” Shepherd smirked.
“Terrance P. Spalding, what crazy notion crawled inside your brain and decided to take up residence this time? Everyone thought you were dead. You’ve been missing for over a week! Message me back and let me know it’s really you so I can hop on a shuttle and go out there so I can strangle you myself,” Yard Manager Baldwin threatened the moment the cutter entered communication range.
Spalding stomped around the deck for a moment before opening a channel and straightening up.
“No, Glenda, I was on a top secret mission. Of course I couldn’t tell you about it. You know how it is,” Spalding said seriously, “as for the rest of it, sometimes things break down. How was I supposed to know it was going to happen on this trip? But don’t worry, I have returned safe and sound and just as soon as I get back to the orbitals you can reassure yourself I’m still alive enough to strangle with yer own two hands.”
“You’re impossible! I don’t know what mission you think you were on, but from his reaction to your disappearance I don’t think even the Admiral knows exactly what you were up to. So don’t 'now Glenda' me,” she snapped.
Admiral's Fall Page 20