It was strange what these humans did.
It was just past noon today. In the last twenty-four hours she had seen humans in all their many facets, both their glory and their degradation.
37
After Vicky and Mannie finished lunch, General Pemberton came in for his own meal. Before eating, he brought Vicky, and all those around her, up to date on the efforts to get Oryol back on its feet.
"Power is the first thing we have to do before we can do anything else." The general said, then just shook his head as he hunted for words, “Those . . . idiots . . . raped the lovely young wife of the lead engineer at the power plant. The entire work force took off after that and the reactor went on for another week before it began to fall apart. We're lucky it shut itself down gracefully. Anyway, we're bringing down the parts we need to get it back up and some of the workers have already reported back."
"When will we have power?" asked a college professor of history who was working closely with Mannie.
"I'm hoping by tonight," the general said. "I've been warned that once we fix one thing, we may find something else. All I can really say is look for the lights when they come on."
"Understandable," the professor agreed.
"Once we have power, we can start pumping water again. The wells here are pretty clean. Still, we need to process the water a bit. We have a small supply of chemicals on hand, but we'll need to order in more. The same for sewage treatment. We can start it up after the water gets online, but treating it requires some serious chemicals. That supply was allowed to run pretty low before it all came apart."
"How do we get food flowing into the city?" a businessman asked.
"It will have to be the right food," a doctor added. "So many of these people have been starving. You can't just give them a candy bar or a beef steak."
"We have famine biscuits aboard ship," Vicky said. "That should serve to start."
"What we need is some money to jump-start the economy," the professor said. "We're flat on our back. We need a hand up."
"Mannie, from my private purse, can we pay the farmers for a week's worth of food to give to the starving city folk?"
"Yes, sweetheart. That would be a most gracious act for the Grand Duchess to perform."
"I helped in the assault on two buildings," Vicky said. "I remember the stink. They'd been using the lower floors for a latrine. We'll need to clean that up before we get an epidemic going."
The doctor nodded agreement.
"I still have some Peterwald money around here somewhere. Don't you think that would be well-used cleaning up the shit?" Vicky deadpanned.
That was good for a laugh, and approval. Peterwald money should be used to clean up the mess it made.
Of course, Vicky knew that what money she had was all the same, but these poor people didn't need to know that. Nor did they need to know that most of this was money given to her as wedding gifts for her charities.
The general got time to eat his lunch after that. The planning went on, through supper and into the night. They were joined by the managers for many of the city's services and the planning got more granular.
There was a cheer when the lights came on and the generator cut out. People would have street lights for the walk home. Vicky managed to scrounge up rides to take her advisors back to their homes. She sent them on their way with food baskets for themselves, their families, and anyone they thought they could feed.
Vicky felt very good when she bedded down with Mannie. She refused to sleep in any of the rooms she'd freed hostages from. Fortunately, the Marines had brought down temporary buildings.
She and Mannie ended up pulling two camp cots together and sleeping in a barracks with a hundred other exhausted soldiers. Mannie slept in his clothes. He helped pry Vicky out of her armor. She slept in the padding.
What mattered was that she slept in Mannie's arms.
38
The next week was full of hard work. They did things that left them cheering. Things also happened that almost broke their hearts.
There was no book, no checklist; nothing with instructions on how you pick an entire planet up when it's face down in the dirt. Vicky had Maggie keeping a record. Certainly the Grand Duchess would find more planets in just this sort of mess. There was no need to repeat some of these mistakes again.
By the grace of some merciful god, five thousand redcoats could not poison an entire planet. These Security Consultants didn't spread much beyond Kromy. True, they terrorized a city of two hundred thousand people, but many had succeeded in fleeing to family on farms or in the small distant towns.
The redcoats had raided farms for food. They burned the first farm they hit and murdered all the people working there. After a few assaults like that, lookouts were scattered around Kromy. Since all modern communications were down, they used pieces of mirrors to flash their warning.
Farms close to town built hideaways out in the fields. After the first few farms were slaughtered, the redcoats didn't get another person from the farms. True, they burned some homesteads, either just a house or barn, or the entire place. Still, the farmers learned quickly to hide their women and themselves.
Vicky's offer to buy a week's worth of food got the farm-to-market pipeline going. Her offer of money to pay for the cleanup of the worst hazards for disease put some money in the hands of hungry people. Somehow, they came up with money to pay the civil servants who got the power, water, sewage, and garbage collection up and going.
Everyone rejoiced when the communication net came back online. Man does not live by bread alone. They must have a way to talk to each other.
All of those efforts came with a price that would not stop. In too many of their efforts, the work of putting things back together brought more bodies into the light of day. The renegade Red Coats didn't just want power; they insisted on abusing it every chance they got.
How could human beings be so sick?
They were also stupid.
The redcoats had confiscated the entire money supply, including everything gold or silver, that they could tax outright or steal. All of it ended up stashed somewhere in the hotel.
They were absolutely crazy. They even had their slaves empty the bank vault of money and lug it over to the hotel.
Vicky turned the money over to the new government, and they used it to pay those that were working for them. They also gave everyone in town a cash grant to help them get started again.
It wasn't just a monetary give-away. Every mark they gave away created seven marks worth of exchange before it vanished into the background. The myriad of goods and services that were essential to modern civilization began to stir back to life.
First they bought food. Then the minor things were added. It was surprising how many clothes stores hadn't been raided or burned down. Plumbers, carpenters and electricians began fixing things for people once they had cash.
Of course, Mannie got his democracy going. This time, it was a much more interested Vicky who watched it happen.
Everyone who wanted to sit in the parliament was invited to get a thousand signatures. Some got it from the farmers who lived around them. Some got it from the people of the smaller towns. Bonki, down south of the equator, got to field a hundred representatives. Kromy had to field two hundred. However, in the cities, it wasn't so much ground as skills that made for a representative. The power system ended up with two reps, using signatures both from the workers and their family and friends. That pattern was followed often. Female students even elected four of their own. The male students chose their four, only to discover that the girls had gotten there first, getting their boyfriends to sign.
The House of the People ended up with only two male students.
The campaigning went on for a week, then all those with less than five hundred signatures were made to drop out. That left those still below a thousand hunting for signatures.
Three weeks after Vicky's first troop landed, the opera house was opened to serve durin
g the day as the People's House. Parties had not coalesced into anything solid enough to put forward a platform, so Vicky appointed three co-presidents pro tem, and called the house to order.
She had a nice speech all prepared, thanks to Mannie, but she never got to give it.
A runner from General Pemberton's headquarters dashed in just after she'd only called them to order.
He had a hot message from Admiral Bolesław. A fleet had entered the system. It was hostile . . . and it out-gunned Vicky's.
39
Admiral, Her Grace, the Grand Duchess Victoria took time to get topside. A quick flight down to Bonki, then a ride up the now operational ferry. She had plenty of time to calm down.
It didn't work.
She was still mad as hell when she stormed onto the flag bridge of her flagship, the Victorious.
"How the hell did we not know a fleet was headed our way? Why are we just learning about it when it shows up on our doorstep?"
"I can explain, Your Grace, if you will just sit down, take two breaths, and listen," Admiral Bolesław said.
Vicky gave the admiral a serious scowl, but she did sit down and take the requisite two deep breaths.
"Okay" she snapped. "Explain yourself."
"There are three jumps into this system," Admiral Bolesław explained in an even voice. "One jump leads back to Dresden. We set buoys all along that route and around it. The second jump leads back to the territory of the Grand Duchy. We gave it the same careful treatment. The third jump kind of points toward Greenfeld, but in a very round-about way. The second jump out along that route is into a system that has six jumps from it. By the time we finished laying all the buoys that we needed for the other two jumps, we only had enough to cover six jumps in that sector."
Vicky took several more deep breaths. "I didn't order enough buoys, huh?"
"We asked for and ordered as many buoys as Dresden could produce. We had to spread them out around Dresden as well as cover Oryol and Lublin. For an economy that was dead in the water and scraping the bottom of its resources, they did the best they could, and we did the best we could."
"Okay," Vicky said, taking another deep breath, "but we did picket the next system out. Why didn't we at least get that much warning?"
"We drew the wrong conclusion. You may recall that we had problems with the station keeping jets on the buoys."
"Yes."
"Well, we've been having problems with the communication systems on them since they went into service. Sporadically, this one or that will close down and not give us a daily report for three or four days. Then they come back on line."
"I see where this is leading, but go ahead and finish."
"We assumed that the buoy in the next system that reported a freighter coming through failed temporarily. About the time we started to wonder about its continued silence, the hostile fleet showed up."
Vicky forced herself to take two more deep breaths. She was appalled by this situation, but she was also appalled by her reaction to it. Admiral Krätz had taught her better than this. She'd have to have a long talk tonight with Mannie. Maybe they could figure out where this anger came from over a pillow.
"Okay, so we've got a SNAFU leading to FUBAR. What's the enemy squadron look like?"
"We've drawn two of the best battleships in the old reserve fleet, the Blücher and the Scharnhorst. They've got eighteen 410 mm lasers compared to our twenty-four 460 mm battery. We've got the range on them, but not by much. They do have four heavy cruisers: Gefion, Freya, Hansa and Hertha. All we have is the Sachsen and the light cruisers Rostock and Emden. Their 155 mm lasers will be outgunned by the heavy cruisers' 210 mm. They don't have any destroyers, but they do have two armed merchant cruisers. Sensors says they are carrying several 155 mm lasers. Their reactors have not been increased, so they will need more time to reload."
Admiral Bolesław paused.
Vicky considered all the odds and found them . . . challenging.
"So," she said, "if the Victorious can keep them at arm’s length, and shoot straighter and faster, we can defeat their two battleships and then the heavy cruisers. If the Victorious gets blown out of space, our cruisers are toast."
"Pretty much, Your Grace."
"How good is the Victorious?"
"Good. Her crew is well-trained, professional, and capable. Most of the crews we've encountered from the Bowlingame faction have been scratch affairs with poorly trained landsmen, unfamiliar with their weapons."
"Of course, we could have drawn the one admiral who has whipped his crew into a fighting force," Vicky said.
"Yes, there is always that chance."
Vicky examined the battle board, then had it expand out into a star map showing the jumps between Dresden all the way through to Brunswick. Dresden was closer. Brunswick was several jumps farther.
"Have we reported our situation?"
"I sent off messages to both Dresden and Brunswick ten minutes after we found those ships drifting at Jump Beta, Your Grace."
Vicky drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "I don't want to weaken the fleet around Dresden," she said slowly. "I'd prefer that any reinforcements come from Brunswick."
"Yes, Your Grace, but any ships from there will take more time."
"Yes. I know."
There it was. She'd made the call. She waited to see if an experienced admiral would tell her that her solution to their problem didn't meet the standards the war college expected.
The silence between them went long, then Admiral Bolesław nodded. "It's six one way, half a dozen the other. Maybe we can win if they come fast. Maybe we can get reinforcements while they shilly-shally around out there."
The two exchanged nodding agreement.
Then the comm officer of the watch ruined their moment of agreement.
"Your Grace, we've intercepted a message in the clear from near Kromy. It says, 'The Grand Duchess is here. Repeat. The Grand Duchess is here'."
Now the glances the two admirals exchanged turned dark.
"Well, that tosses the fox in the hen house," Admiral Bolesław muttered. "It will take them a day or two to get the message. Do you want to make a run for Jump Point Charlie?"
"Would they follow us or go straight for Oryol?" Vicky asked.
"Your guess, Your Grace, is as good as mine."
Vicky let out another one of the sighs she was using so often today. She hoped they had a sufficient supply in store. She shook her head. "I have no idea. I just know that I will not run while there is a good chance that my people that I leave behind will be subject to what we just freed them from. Hell, admiral, what's to keep this fleet from just lasing this planet from orbit?"
"Nothing, Your Grace. While some of these SOBs might regret the chance to rape and pillage, no doubt they are dumb enough to get matters out of order and burn it first."
They shared a dry, if bitter chuckle at that. It was good to be in the company of a professional soldier who didn't flinch from turning the brutal truth into the joke it was.
Vicky might have flipped a coin in her head. But, no. She chose her next move.
"We stay and fight," She said, then added. "You want to countermand my order, Admiral Bolesław?"
He shook his head. "No, Your Grace. Whether you flip the coin or I do, we face only two options. Which one is better we will not know until this week is done."
"Yeah," Vicky growled. "That was what I figured. So, how do we prepare to fight these bastards?"
"With a lot of blood, sweat, and toil. Hopefully we can avoid the tears and make sure it’s their blood."
"Drill the fleet, Admiral. When you have time, we need to examine our options. Charging out there for a few seconds of fire as we sweep by each other is off the board. I will not allow anyone from this crime ring to get between me and my people."
"You've read a few of Kris Longknife's after-action reports," Admiral Bolesław said with a proud, almost fatherly, smile.
"Admiral Krätz saw to it that I read
them all. He bled red ink on my written reports until I fully understood what that Wardhaven princess was doing. Yes, Admiral. I will not do some stupid cavalry charge out to meet them."
"I'm glad. I was afraid that most recent demonstration the Longknife princess did at the battle of Cuzco, what with the actual charge, might have given you some bad ideas."
"We have 460 mm lasers. She had 625 mm monsters. No, I know just how small our killing zone is and how good our ice armor is against our own lasers. No, we need a bit of a running gun fight if we're to wreak the damage we must."
"Then, Admiral," Admiral Bolesław said, "I assign you the job of coming up with the first draft of a battle plan for us to massage and improve."
"Gee, and I thought I might catch up on my sleep."
That got a sharp, mocking guffaw from both of them.
40
For the rest of the day and well into the next, the Victorious rang with calls to drill and battle stations. Vicky spent the time studying her enemy, her situation, and her options.
Over supper that night, she talked it over with Admiral Bolesław.
"I know I'm not supposed to base a battle plan on enemy intentions," she began, "but we know their capabilities as much as they know ours."
The admiral nodded as he tested the contents of the bowl before him. It was goulash night and the cook had outdone himself.
Somewhere, a long stretch of road was missing all its roadkill. Vicky hadn't been in the Navy nearly long enough to identify all the different meats in tonight's supper.
"There are really only two possible intents," Vicky said. "Bombard the planet to punish it for me killing all the security consultants, or kill me because the Bowlingame faction has a huge price on my head."
Admiral Bolesław nodded as he spooned in some of the unknown goulash meat. "Since they only started heading in from the jump when they got the message you were here, we can assume your lovely self featured heavily in their decision.
Implacable: Vicky Peterwald, #5 Page 20