The Iron Admiral: Deception

by Greta van Der Rol

  Two weeks she’d been here, twenty days and no closer to an answer. She had checked the ship’s IS

  for any signals that should not have been there; any anomaly which would betray the work of an informer.

  As Leonov had said, there was no direct evidence to support the theory that any tampering had taken place, but Allysha checked all his team’s work, repeating it and testing it and then repeating it without using InfoDroids. Over a couple of days she built on Leonov’s pattern of where each attack had taken place and where the fleet was at the time. She looked at the weapons used, the techniques employed, the

  statements made when the perpetrators claimed responsibility. She searched for patterns, links, overlaps;

  anything that would give a clue for where to look. Every few days she reported to Ernshaw her lack of success. At least she didn’t have to report to Saahren. She hardly saw him, except twice at the SOM

  mess and there, she ignored him.

  What next? She was running out of ideas.

  “Should you be up so late?”

  She jumped. SenComm Ernshaw stood beside her, a slight smile on his face.

  “Hello.” He was a nice man. He’d been tolerant and interested, giving her space and supporting her when required and making sure his own staff respected her privacy. “I was thinking maybe I’d get some kaff. But that stuff in the break-out room is horrible.”

  He grinned. “It is. I’ll buy you one. The junior mess is closest.”

  They took the transit out of the bowels of the ship back to more civilized levels, then walked companionably along a corridor together to the mess entrance. Ernshaw stood back to let her precede him into the bar.

  She recognized Hassan’s voice as soon as she stepped inside. He stood talking to a group of seated officers, among them Jorgsen. “Well, I’m telling you Allysha’s a glass mountain.”

  One of his audience jerked his eyes at Allysha, that sort of glance that signaled ‘warning - incoming’.

  Hassan swung around to face her. He almost flushed. “Oh. Er, Hi, ‘Lysha, SenComm. I’m just off. See you tomorrow.” He scuttled off.

  A few of his companions murmured greetings. Andries Jorgsen beamed and winked. Winked. Good grief. What did he think this was? A high school canteen? Ernshaw waved her to a table and summoned a steward with a glance. “Kaff for the lady and I’ll have Dromaigh.”

  “What was that about?” Allysha said.

  “What?”

  “That glass mountain thing.”

  Ernshaw rubbed his nose. “Nothing that needs to concern you. How’s the search going?”

  “Don’t give me that. You might as well tell me. Then I won’t have to dig it out of Hassan tomorrow. And I will.”

  Ernshaw cleared his throat.

  “Or do I have to ask God?”

  He chuckled. “All right. The men of the Fleet have developed a very sexist classification system they use when assessing women. They’re classed on a scale of difficulty.”

  “How hard it will be to seduce them, is that the idea?” How absolutely typical. Trust Hassan to be involved with that. A bit like the betting ring Tensan had told her about.

  “Yes. It’s described in terms of mountain climbing. The easiest is a slope—that’s if you don’t include the paddock, which means she’s anyone’s for the taking. Then there’s a peak—the first parts are not that hard but reaching the summit is a lot more work. Then there’s the ice mountain—very difficult but ice melts. Then there’s the glass mountain—unclimbable.”

  “So Hassan says I’m unattainable?”

  “Yes. But it’s more complicated than that.”

  Allysha wasn’t sure if she was disgusted or fascinated. Or maybe a bit of both. “How?”

  Ernshaw waited as the steward put the drinks on the table and moved away. “It varies according to an individual. A glass mountain for one man might be a slope for another.” He picked up his drink, watching Allysha over the rim of the glass.

  She chuckled wearily. “That sounds awfully like issuing a challenge.”

  “Yes, it could be.You can’t win her, butI can. But from what I’ve heard, the competition in your case makes it dangerous.”

  “Ah. We’re getting back to religion again, I can tell.” She sipped at her kaff, holding the steaming cup under her nose, breathing in the aroma. Saahren. She couldn’t escape his influence.

  “It’s pretty hard to argue with God,” said Ernshaw, a slight smile on his lips. “I suppose this is all feeding from the rumors from the Fleet Ball.”

  She stared at him, head to one side, eyes rolling in an ‘oh please’ expression. She was so sick of the whole thing. A vision of the sea from her old home in Shernish entered her mind. She could almost smell the salt air, hear the wild cry of the sea birds. Soon, very soon.

  He shrugged. “I can only say what I see.”

  “Look, I’m not some…” she waved a hand searching for words “…challenge that comes with a rosette.

  I’m not, that is NOT interested in fending off a bunch of randy wannabes who want to get me to bed to prove their manhood. I’m here to do a job. I am sick to death of the gossip and the speculation and I just

  wish it would all go away.” She shoved herself back into the chair.

  Ernshaw backed away slightly. “You’ve made your point, Allysha. But then, Andries Jorgsen has a reputation to defend.”

  “Jorgsen? Was Hassan talking to him? Does he think he’s in with a chance?”

  “I’d guess so.”

  “Huh. He’s certainly not much good at taking no for an answer.” She’d probably prefer Slimy Stevenson to a pushy, full-of-himself schmoozer like Jorgsen.

  “Oh?”

  “He’s tried, many times. Oh, all polite offers—meet after dinner, kaff, drinks, join him in the gym, join him at the kino. All equally politely refused.” She gave a humorless laugh. “He reminds me of my ex-husband. All charm and slime.”

  Ernshaw slid a finger around the rim of his glass. “There may be a little more to it than just a conquest.

  Jorgsen comes from an old family that’s been in the Confederacy fleet for generations. People from those

  sorts of families tend to look down their noses at those they feel are their social inferiors. Jorgsen’s father is an admiral on the High Command who thinks he was overlooked for the position of grand admiral. In fact, he thought he was second in apparent line, a position he lost to Saahren after Forenisi. I’m not sure his perception was right, he’s not a great strategist, but that’s beside the point.”

  “So Jorgsen’s avenging a slight to the family honor, is that it?”

  “In a way, perhaps. If the GA was not involved he might have moved on to an easier target.”

  “Oh, buckrats.” She sighed, running her hand back through her hair. “But … everybody always tells me how popular Saahren is, how he’s up there on a pedestal?”

  “Saahren isn’t popular with everybody. There’s not much room at the top and quite a few people were pushed aside when he took over. He wants good officers; he doesn’t care who their parents are. For example, Valperez is old family and very happy to work with Saahren. Captain Pedder’s background is middle class; his father was a bank manager. Larsen’s old family and had to get used to the idea of working with Saahren. Admiral Khotep, who commands battle group Moomas, is old family and tolerates Saahren although he doesn’t really approve.”

  Allysha nodded absently, absorbing this revelation. “And what about you? Are you old family?”

  “As a matter of fact I am. I’m fifth generation in the Fleet. But I recognize brilliance when I see it.

  Saahren has that and we’d be stupid to overlook it because he doesn’t come from the right background.”

  He jagged his fingers around the word ‘right’ as he spoke. He paused, considering her for a moment.

  “Just as we would be stupid to ignore your brilliance just because you can be a tad difficult.”

  “Sorry about
the tantrum. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I expect it’s not all that easy having to keep my lot in line, let alone me.” She drained the cup. “Thanks for the kaff,” she said, standing. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She walked along a deserted corridor toward the transit foyer which would take her to her stateroom.

  She probably was a bit difficult, at that. Saahren. She couldn’t avoid him, couldn’t avoid thinking about him. Okay, so he didn’t bombard Qito Jossur. But what if the planet had been hit by its own space station, a crashing cruiser? It was the same result wasn’t it? Billions of people killed by war? They were legitimate military targets—they were garrison cities weren’t they? And they were just Tors weren’t they?

  A few more weeks, that was all. Then she could get back to Carnessa and start a life outside the goldfish

  bowl.Just think of the money, Allysha. Finish and get out . A house by the sea, the smell of salt breezes, the sharp cry of the skuas, fish stew in the café on the promenade. Home.

  A figure leaned against the wall of the corridor. She slowed down. What in hell? He straightened up as she approached. She stopped. Oh, buckrats and damnation. Her heart hammered.

  ChapterSeventeen

  “Hi,” Jorgsen said.

  The pounding of her pulse subsided. That slimeball. What the hell did he want; as if she didn’t know.

  Glass mountain, huh? “What are you doing here?”

  “I just thought perhaps we could have a private chat, your room or mine.” He smiled at her.

  “Go away Jorgsen.” She walked on, pushing past him.

  “Come on, Allysha.” He tried to put an arm around her. “You’re much too beautiful to be wasted on a eunuch like Saahren.”

  She shrugged his arm away. Eunuch? Her jaw dropped. He was out of his tiny mind. Idiot. And he thought he was better than Saahren? Contempt bubbled. He was in her way. “How many times do I have

  to say no? Leave… me… alone.”

  She shoved her way past him. He stepped after her, arm outstretched to grab her shoulder. “You don’t mean that.”

  She pivoted, pulled his arm forward and tripped him. He sprawled to the floor. As he struggled to his feet, she delivered a kick to the crotch that left him gasping, doubled up and clutching himself.

  “No, Commander. And I really do mean it.” She swung on her heel and kept walking.

  ****

  Saahren dropped into his chair in his office. Another miserable night filled with memories of the Mountain Garden. Over two weeks now, and she still was little more than barely civil. He’d hardly seen her, kept his distance. He’d hoped she’d open up a bit the next time she attended the SO Mess but she was as formal as ever. He sat opposite her at the table but she wouldn’t even look at him, not even when he asked her a direct question. Her eyes grazed over his face and fixed on his shoulder or his chest. It was driving him crazy. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Less than two weeks and the contract was finished, and he was no further forward with her.

  Butcher appeared, two cups of fresh-brewed kaff in his hands.

  “Is the clerk ill, Butcher?”

  “I was passing.” The adjutant put the cups down. “I have something you need to see. Security vision from last night.” He switched on the view screen.

  Saahren leaned back, chin on fist, watching Allysha’s encounter with Jorgsen. Cheeky, slimy bastard.

  When she delivered the final kick he grinned. “At least she didn’t mess around.”

  He pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip while anger bubbled in his gut. Jorgsen. How dare he? How dare he lay a hand on her?

  “I expect he’ll be out of action and in space dock for a little while,” Butcher said. “She’s dealt with it quite forcefully.”

  “Certainly. And should she have had to?”

  “No, she shouldn’t. Should this go to Captain Farad?”

  He caught Butcher’s eye. By rights a disciplinary misdemeanor should be dealt with by the ship’s executive officer. “I’ll handle it.”

  Butcher nodded, unsurprised. “Jorgsen has returned to duties a little the worse for wear. Allysha is on the bridge with one of her team.”

  “Have him report to my office.” Saahren left his coffee and walked, unhurried, to the bridge.

  ****

  “Take a long look at these two. See the differences?” Allysha said, leaning over Anna’s shoulder.

  “Here?” asked Anna, pointing at a section of the two rows of red letters on the screen in front of her.

  “Yes, that’s one. And?”

  Anna considered the data, running the pointer along each line. “Here?” She turned her head to look up at Allysha and stared past her, eyes round. “Oh.”

  Allysha glanced at her face and straightened up. No wonder the usual banter that livened up the bridge stations had faded away.

  “My office. When you’re ready.” Saahren strode away.

  Damnation. Somebody must have told him. And he wasn’t happy. Lake Sylmander all over again.

  “Aren’t you going now?” Anna asked.

  She shook her head. “I think I’ll give him some time to calm down.”

  “Is he angry?”

  “Oh, yes. But not furious. If you see what I mean.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “He gets this glint in his eye. Hope you never see it. Especially if it’s directed at you.”

  Anna grinned, dark eyes dancing. “You seem to know an awful lot about somebody you hardly know.”

  Sometimes Anna was just too quick. She pointed at the screen. “Come on, let’s finish the exercise.”

  And then she’d better see how this panned out.

  Anna examined the data again. “Oh. Okay, that was wrong. This is it here.”

  “Well done,” Allysha said. “Now do these pairs.” She sent Anna an exercise via her implant. “Better see the GA. Back soon.”

  She walked the few paces down the corridor and turned in the doorway marked ‘Grand Admiral Saahren’. A sergeant sat at a desk facing her. Several chairs stood against the walls of an otherwise bare room. So he had a reception area. Why should she be surprised?

  A door to the left of the sergeant’s desk opened. “Go in ma’am, you’re expected.”

  Allysha strode into a room smaller than she had imagined, neat, business-like and functional. He sat behind a tidy desk surrounded with monitors, obviously expecting her. She stood facing him, arms slightly

  apart and palms facing him. “Okay, I’m here.”

  He didn’t smile, just pointed at the visitor’s chair. She subsided into it and he said, “Tell me about this.”

  When the replay of her encounter with Jorgsen had finished, Allysha sighed. “It’s dealt with isn’t it?”

  Please let it go, please.

  “I take it you’ve told him no before?”

  “Yes. Look, this is just a very handsome man who’s not accustomed to getting no for an answer. He tried once too often, he failed.”

  “What about the other times?”

  He was simmering, but not like Lake Sylmander. There, he was incandescent. “The usual things. No, I don’t want to sit at your table, have a drink, meet you after work etc. All very polite, quite public. This time he was kind of lying in wait for me.”

  “Yes. Would he have gone as far as forcing you?”

  Ah, now that was the rub, wasn’t it? If she said the wrong thing now, Jorgsen would wish he’d never been born. She looked him in the eye and shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. This wasn’t a rape thing, just a spoiled kid trying to get his own way.”

  “Why were you so… emphatic then?”

  “Just fed up, I guess. I’d just found out I was a glass mountain and I’d had enough.” She could have sworn a smile lurked. Certainly that dangerous simmer lessened. What would be his take on the matter?

  Was she a glass mountain to him? Somehow she didn’t think so.

  “And your reaction to his remark about me?
You seemed to get very angry about then.” The edges of his mouth jerked.

  “Oh, eunuch.” She grimaced. “I was going to ask him if his definition of a eunuch included a man who was barely satisfied with three times a night.”

  Saahren grinned. “I don’t remember you complaining. Or at least, a couple of early complaints about duration. But you never said no.” His smile widened. “In fact, I seem to recall that there were a number of occasions when you instigated the proceedings.”

  “Yes, well.” Yes, she had. And she’d enjoyed every single time. Oh, Saahren, why couldn’t you just have been the sergeant you pretended to be? Or even a commander? It would have been so simple.

  “That’s before I knew what you are.”

  Chohzuthe Destroyer, just like Lake Sylmander. He was protecting her, defending her. He cared about her. While she understood that, Jorgsen had been punished enough; surely. “Please, as far as I’m concerned, it’s over. I can fight my own battles. I don’t need you to demolish this fellow, really I don’t.”

  He leaned back in his chair, his face expressionless. The military mask. “You shouldn’t have to fight battles. But… in general, the man’s a good officer. I’ll simply remind him to mind his manners.”

  Allysha met his gaze and the mask dropped. For an instant they were back in the Mountain Garden, staring into each other’s eyes. A tremor went through her body, shaking her to her very core. She’d loved him, then. And now… “May I go now?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  She fled, her thoughts a turmoil.

  Jorgsen sat in the outer office, upright and nervous in one of the visitor’s chairs. He glanced at Allysha as she walked past then deliberately avoided her gaze. He didn’t look happy. Or comfortable. Well, it served him right.

  ****

  Saahren waited for a moment, collecting his thoughts and letting his pulse settle. She’d looked at him.

  Really looked at him for the first time since they’d argued about the dress, gazed into his eyes, just for one wonderful moment. He savored it, her lovely green eyes with flecks of gold. It was a start, surely.