by David Drake
"I need Sventur. She's going to have to scout for us." Acting Line Commander Goriz was already in battle dress #2, with additional protective gear to screen their short-distance radio transmissions. "Tell Bontora to get ready. Civilian dress for this area, whatever it's like—he'll know. I want to see him before he leaves. Face to face. I don't want the Grands eavesdropping on us."
"Do you think they're going to interfere?" asked Group Line Chief Hsuin. Of the forty-six human-descent crew members of the Suidotal, none came from Lontano. In the mission, Hsuin was one of two Xiaoqing-na. At first he had felt out-of-place and homesick, and thought that The Hub's policy of fully mixed crews was ridiculous. Now, with battle about to begin, he understood why the policy had been adopted, and agreed with it.
"Let's agree that it's likely, and plan for it," she said.
Starting into their third fly-over, Leatris Sventur signaled Emmelein Goriz on her personal beam. "I don't want to make a bad situation worse," she said. "But I have to tell you something. I can't get it out of my head that Fayrborn has someone in the mission still, someone who's . . . who's protecting him. I don't think he made up that claim about another spy. I think it was real."
"I know what you mean," said Goriz.
"I don't want to sound paranoid, but—"
"I know what you mean," Goriz repeated. "It's been eating at me, too. He left . . . too quickly. He didn't cut and run, he set a trap and left."
"Exactly," said Sventur, feeling much relieved.
On the surveills she watched the rolling hills of Tuscareg Province slide away, marked with small hill towns. And something caught her eye. "Wait," she said, switching from her personal beam to her bridge one. "There's something—"
Before she could finish a bright flash filled the screens and the Glavuses rocked in the air. The red-and-silver flashed Ikemoos flew to pieces, battering into the sky and breaking into uncountable pieces, tatters of wreckage slamming into the five remaining ships.
Klaxtons whooped, emergency lights went on, and on the five ships, the Navigators and Executive Officers each strove to keep their Glavuses from crashing.
"This is an emergency. This is an emergency," all five Senior Bunters announced to their various ships calmly.
On the Yamapunkt the Mromrosi careened into the central surveill and was apparently stunned—at least he became inactive, turned the color of putty, and a fine film came over his single green eye. On the Sakibuckt the Mromrosi curled into a tight ball and bounced his way through the turbulence. The other three Mromrosii hunkered down under panel boards on their ships and waited.
As soon as the Reiwald ceased to pitch and yaw, Acting Line Commander Goriz picked up her hailer. "Up ten thousand kilometers. Damage report in five minutes."
"Can't do it," said Group Line Chief Hsuin Xanitan. "Our stabilizers are pogged. We've got to get down right now or fall."
"Suidotal, land and cover. Do not attempt to meet up with us. When repairs are complete, return to orbit and monitor whatever's going on." It was difficult for Acting Line Commander Goriz to give this order, for she knew she would need every Petit Harrier she could muster to handle this situation—whatever it was.
"We'll do repairs and come after you," said Group Line Chief Hsuin.
"Belay that. Repeat. Belay that. You will return to orbit and monitor. We're going to need documentation, and it'll be your job to get it." She made her voice confident and emphatic, though now that they were ascending rapidly she could hardly hear the transmissions from the crippled Suidotal. She had a fleeting thought: the Suidotal's colors were olive-and-orange, providing a little camouflage on the hillside. If one of the ships had to be down, the Suidotal would draw the least attention of any of them.
". . . depending on repa . . . no more than six . . . any . . . snooping. Hsuin ou . . ."
Acting Line Commander Goriz squared her already square Hartzheimer shoulders. "Sakibuckt, how bad is your damage?"
"Not too bad, according to the Senior Bunter. What land of sperk hit us, anyway?" Group Line Chief Praechee sounded more indignant than frightened.
"We'll have full analysis on that in a few minutes," said the Technical Chief of the Reiwald, a stalwart young Fils from Mere Philomene. "My own guess is one of those high-impact blasting shells."
"Sounds about right," said Group Line Chief Sventur grimly. "And if that's what they have down here on the surface . . ."
"That or a disruptor field," suggested the Navigator, who was still wrestling with the helm.
"They're not allowed in this part of the Magnicate Alliance; no disruptor weapons of any kind are allowed on access corridors to the J'zmallir Trade Routes," said Acting Line Commander Goriz.
"They may not be allowed, but that is what destroyed the Ikemoos," said the Mromrosi who had turned a neon shade of peach. "Nothing else is destructive in quite that way."
"I would tend to agree," said Group Line Chief Praechee. "I saw them demonstrated last year at the annual Muster. Impressive and terrifying, which is what I suspect was the intention."
"And who has them?" demanded Acting Line Commander Goriz.
"As far as I am aware," said the Mromrosi on the Reiwald, "only the Grands have them."
"I mean, of the known human and non-human races," Group Line Chief Praechee specified.
"It is my intention as well. We of the Emerging Planet Fairness Court have records for all space-going species in this part of the galaxy. It is our function." The Mromrosi was abruptly the color of mulberries. "I repeat: in this sector, only the Grands possess such weapons."
Group Line Chief Sventur closed her eyes and turned her face toward the ceiling. "Wonderful. Just pogging wonderful."
"You mean that the Grands are shooting at us," said Group Line Chief Praechee, just to be certain.
"That is what we surmise," said the Mromrosi.
"Group Line Chief," said one of the officers, "There's been a body discovered on the Reiwald. Three minutes ago."
"A body?" she echoed.
"With a dagger in his back," said the Senior Bunter of the Reiwald. "It is a very old-fashioned weapon. We don't have any clue to follow, for there is no record of any such weapon on board."
"Pog it all," muttered Group Line Chief Sventur.
"Dagger?" echoed her Navigator, Estienne Beaumont of Saint Fou. "And someone's dead?"
There's a body on the Reiwald," said Sventur, her eyes turning hard. "Stabbed."
"Who's dead?" asked Parker Parkerman, like all Dataliners hungry for information first and foremost.
"Who's the victim?" Group Line Chief Sventur asked Group Line Chief Goriz.
"Group Chief Smitz. He's from New Gaia, career Harrier. His field was tracking." Goriz spoke bluntly, not encouraging anyone to volunteer other information.
"Tracking," said Sventur. "Do you think that's important?" Below she could see two ruined bridges. "We'd better head back toward the hills. We're getting too close to Capacitta."
"Right," said Goriz, and gave the order to turn about, adding, "Stay low—fifteen hundred kilometers—until we have a better idea what's going on."
"And make sure the escape kits are handy," added her Executive Officer, Vasilin Nestorenko. "In case we get shot down."
"If they're using disruptor weapons, escape kits won't make a pogging difference," said Communications Leader Gaikhu from the Yamapunkt.
"Just in case," said Communications Leader Brere of the Sakibuckt. "Keep the escape kits out and handy"
The skimmers had reached the first ridge of the mountains, and they followed it for some distance, taking advantage of the extensive view.
"There's an encampment on the east side of Capacitta that isn't part of the records," said Executive Officer Marillo of the Sakibuckt. "What do you Lontaniani think?"
Sventur was the first to answer. "It isn't ours," she said as she called the buildings up on the surveills. "That's not human. Look at those things."
They were strange to look at, leaning at disquieti
ng angles and topped with figures and sculptures that were wholly unrecognizable. The function of the apparent openings of the buildings were not certain, for they appeared too high to be doors and too heavy to be windows. Most of the buildings were lit from within, but the color of the light was hazy, slightly purple in tinge, and it made most human eyes water.
"Better make a record of this, just in case. And relay it to the Sempers. We don't want the Grands taking charge of this information," said Goriz, signaling her Communications Leader to get on it.
The Mromrosi on the Yamapunkt went a hideous shade of sickly orange. "That is the Bastan'gal; those are their military dwellings."
"What does it mean?" asked Group Line Chief Praechee, watching the same display on his surveills. "Why have they set up their camp right next to the city?"
"It means they control the city, or believe they do," said the Mromrosi on the Daichirucken. "That is the way the Bastan'gal behave."
"And they're still in business? Your Fairness Court hasn't stopped them?" Praechee demanded.
"They are already contained, but they have not been abiding by the conditions of our negotiations. Something will have to be done." The Mromrosi turned a deep brown that was almost black.
"Bonock on a pogging stick!" Sventur swore. "How could the Grands let this happen?"
"The Grands are not concerned with Lontano, they are concerned with the Alliance," said the Mromrosi. "If one planet in so many has to be part of the bargain to achieve their ends, then that planet—"
"They're not getting away with it," Sventur declared. "I won't have it." She folded her arms and addressed Group Line Chief Goriz. "We need a conference. At once. If we head back into these hills, we should be able to find a place where we can be safe for an hour or two. We can prepare to deal with the Grands from there."
Goriz heard her out thoughtfully. "I think you're right," she said, "but I'm worried about being on the ground so long. Let's make it forty minutes tops, to lessen the chance of being found in a sweep."
"Right you are," said Sventur, and heard her acceptance echoed by the rest.
"I know a place," said Diam Bontorn suddenly. "It's a sports landing field, for air-yachts. We can get in and out of there quickly."
Sventur agreed at once. "He's right. We can get there in less than half an Earth Standard hour. Forty minutes on the ground and we ought to be ready for anything they decide to throw at us."
"Short of disruptor weapons," amended Group Line Chief Praechee. "No one's ready for them."
"True," said Goriz, and went silent while Protocol Officer Bontorn gave the coordinates to the rest.
2
It was clearly disruptor fire, and it was coming from more than a dozen installations set all around the sport landing field. As the Glavuses made their first pass over what was the sports landing field, the Yamapunkt rocked and shivered under the glancing blow of the disruptor bore.
Now that they had only four ships, they were flying in diamond formation, with the Reiwald at the lead, the turquoise-and-bronze flashes charred to a uniform burnt umber. On starboard the Yamapunkt bucked and skidded but contrived to keep up with the others without going down. On port was the Sakibuckt, in similar condition to the Yamapunkt, but in mirror image.
"Hold steady, hold steady," ordered Acting line Commander Goriz as the Glavuses strove to keep in formation. "Steady."
Then an alarm light went on under the surveill of the Daichirucken and a moment later, Group Line Chief Sventur spoke to Goriz on a closed channel. "I don't want to upset you, Acting Line Commander, but we . . . there's a problem here."
"We're all having trouble," said Goriz sharply.
"This is different," said Sventur, and broke off to shout a few terse orders. "There's a body in the biotech section."
"Any injuries?" asked Goriz.
"I said body. Not casualty. This guy was murdered. Like the one found on the Reiwald. He had one of those traditional knives stuck up under his sternum." She said it bluntly to make her point. A last burst of disruptor fire sent all four Glavuses careening through the air. Then they were over the brow of the ridge and temporarily protected.
"Hover," ordered Goriz to all four ships.
"Beg pardon, but wouldn't it be better if—" began Group Line Chief Praechee.
"I said hover, five hundred meters," Goriz said more sternly. "We need to take stock. Right now. This is getting risky."
"What about surveillance?" asked Praechee.
"We need that," said Goriz. "Is your ship steady enough to tend to it?"
"I think so," said Praechee cautiously.
"Do you want to hover, Yamapunkt?" asked Goriz.
"Um-hum," agreed Executive Officer Boro Omerrik from the Yamapunkt. "We have to check the systems. We're not holding steady." He had already toggled the Senior Bunter to start diagnostics.
"What if they come after us?" demanded Praechee.
"Those disruptors were mounted in the ground. They aren't going to be coming this way any time soon. They're dug in, to keep everyone away from that field. They aren't mobile, for pursuit." Sventur had put the Daichirucken in hover and was off the bridge, going toward the biotech facilities, scowling deeply. Behind her the Mromrosi capered, his curls a startling metallic purple. "We've got more immediate things to worry about."
Biotechnician Urthur Mondragon had found the body; he was still greenish. This was his first mission as a Petit Harrier, and he was missing his home on Chalot more than he ever imagined he could.
Group Line Chief Sventur went at once to the corpse. "Has his temperature been checked? Do we know when he was killed?"
"Can't be much more than ten minutes," said the dead man's Bunter that had arrived a minute before. "The blood has not yet coagulated."
She nodded. "Establish the time and the degree of thrust necessary to inflict the wound. Let me know what kind of force we're talking about. I want those figures in half an hour, maximum. And I want to know where everyone was on the ship." She glanced over at Mondragon. "Did he say anything?"
"He was dead," Mondragon replied, speaking with difficulty. "If I'd been a couple minutes earlier, who knows?"
"Yeah," said Sventur, and motioned to the Bunter. "I want this place swept for all evidence. The Senior Bunter will be in charge. Get to work at once. I want a full report before the end of the day, barring other trouble."
"Of course, Group Line Chief," said the Bunter with the usual cyborg calm. "At once."
"And the systems need to be checked. You and the Senior Bunter work around that." She rocked unsteadily as the ship trembled. "I've got to get back to the bridge."
"We will tend to all forensics," the Bunter assured her.
Sventur saluted and left the biotech facilities, the Mromrosi bounding along with her.
"It is troubling, this death," the alien remarked.
"Very troubling. Harriers aren't supposed to kill other Harriers, and that's what happened. I wish I could read it some other way, but—It's what has to have happened, unless you did it. And I can't see how you'd manage to get a dagger into a target that high." She sighed impatiently. "And we're getting dragged into a situation we don't know enough about on top of all this."
"About the murder?" he asked, going a soft mauve.
"No, about Lontano. Lontano is under siege, somehow. And I know in my bones that those sperking Grands waiting up in orbit have something to do about it. They aren't here to protect the planet, that's pog-all obvious. So we can't rely on them. There might be alien invaders—no offence—or there might be a clever ploy on the part of the Grands."
"Maybe it's more than just one siege," suggested the Mromrosi. "It is something to consider."
"Are you telling me that there is a second agenda here?" Sventur stopped still and stared down directly into the Mromrosi's single green eye.
"And possibly a third," said the Mromrosi, faded to lilac. "You have your purpose here, the Grands have theirs."
"Weo. How—" She interrupte
d herself. "Tell me when we're a bit more secure. I ought to be on the bridge right now."
The Mromrosi accepted this with eager bobbing. "Of course, of course. But a word of advice, Group Line Chief."
"And that is?" she said, continuing up the companionway.
"That is you would do well to send the report of the murder in coded zap, or under seal, directly to Fleet Commodore Grizmai. It would not be wise to make the information too accessible. Do you take my meaning?"
"I think so," said Sventur. "It's dangerous."
"And there are those who might use the information against you rather than to support what you're doing." The Mromrosi brightened to a shade of brilliant pale purple. "It is wise to guard against duplicity."
"That it is," said Sventur as she hurried the rest of the way up the companionway to the bridge.
Goriz was waiting for her report, her larger-than-life image filling the third surveill. "No possible misunderstanding?" she inquired, hope making her tone lighter than it had been.
"Not a chance," said Sventur, dashing them. "Someone murdered the man. I don't think he could have killed himself that way, not without help, and Bunters have a block on suicide assists; he didn't have the information to get around it, not in so short a time."
"No," Goriz agreed morosely. "So someone on your ship and someone on mine is killing people. But who? And why?"
"It would be easier to find out if we weren't in the middle of a war," said Sventur, sighing once. "We have to meet somewhere, and soon. We're too separate, even keeping in contact. The four of us have to prepare. Besides, the contact can be monitored, and that would mean trouble." She sighed and looked toward the ceiling. "I'm putting the Daichirucken on silence-block for the next half hour. I suggest you do the same with the rest of the mission. Nothing comes in, nothing goes out."
"Why?" asked Boro Omerrik, the Executive Officer of the Yamapunkt.
"I'll tell you when it's over," said Sventur, and turned to her Senior Bunter. "You heard me."
"Your orders will be obeyed except in over-riding emergency." The Senior Bunter began to glow a soft green on its left side, indication of the block being activated.