There were three bright spots though, two of which involved personnel. For one thing, Van-Lyn had turned out to be a pleasant surprise through the emergency. Oh, the old man had been shocked by his inclusion in Chu-Lo’s message. Now, he seemed resigned to his own disgrace and death. Surprisingly, Van-Lyn had become determined that if he were going out, he'd go out fighting. The doddering, uncertain Van-Lyn of a week ago was gone, replaced by the strong, determined commander he must have been in past years.
Micah could also be certain he knew where all his Captains stood. No more doubts could be entertained. They all finally knew that their fates were tied to his. He’d have to tolerate no more opposition and agitation from within his own command ranks.
Raptor’s Captain’d had to die in the fighting, but his replacement, his inexperienced XO, was controllable. The fool was focused only on his own ambition, and was sure that his only chance of surviving this episode with his career intact was to blindly follow the orders of duly constituted authority — Micah.
A slight smile flitted across Micah’s face. The third bright spot was that the turmoil had given Micah an opportunity to eliminate four investigators and quite a bit of evidence. He’d still have to be watchful, of course. Some of the investigators could still be undercover. However, most of the documentary and computerized evidence had been destroyed.
Those were the only bright spots, though. Damn Kedron! His ten-minute visit had caused months of delays. What if Cord announced the release before Micah was ready?
It appeared, though, that Cord wasn’t ready for a confrontation, either. The very few intelligence reports he’d been receiving indicated that Cord had all the shipyards on Outback working day and night, doing something involving those damned tramps. He slammed his fist on his desk. He had to give Cord some credit, at least. The man understood security. Every MI agent Micah had tried to infiltrate into the shipyards had been caught, and the three agents remaining on Outback were unwilling to try it again.
Evidently, Cord was using his viceregal access to Fleet records to identify Micah’s agents. Micah frowned. All right, so he couldn’t get an agent into the yards. However, over the years, Micah’s Intelligence chief had recruited a number of those tramps’ captains — and their names wouldn’t be in Cord’s files. It was time to lean on them. Oh, they were all provincials, so he couldn’t expect too much, but he should get something useful, even from them.
In the meantime, he’d ordered every ship’s launch, gig, or barge transferred to the base below. Only his own barge remained in space, so that the force had at least some intership movement capability.
It wasn’t going to be enough. Launches, gigs, and barges weren’t the same as cargo lifters. He slammed his desk again in frustration. Kedron’s attack had been almost completely successful. Micah wondered whether the idea had been Cord's or Kedron’s. He really hadn’t thought that a bumpkin like Kedron could have that sort of tactical sense.
Micah shrugged. Whoever it was, he’d slowed Micah’s timetable by months.
It appeared he’d have to do something about this Kedron, though. The man was proving to be entirely too effective. He sighed. Micah could have used a man like Kedron in his organization.
It was nearly time for his tiny fleet courier to sneak into the Haven system anyway. He dug through the papers on his desk, and located the timetable. Yes. The courier should be leaving in about nine hours. Excellent. He’d send along a message for his Military Intelligence agents on Haven.
The fleet courier was Micah’s secure communication line with his agents. The agents beamed messages to a certain area of empty space at prearranged times. They also maintained listening watches at those times.
The fleet courier would emerge into Haven's system through a little-used jump point a short time before the messages arrived at the target area. Hovering at the edge of the system, it would squirt-beam coded messages toward Haven, then wait. At the appointed time, it would intercept the messages previously sent by the agents, then jump back to Thaeron.
Since the courier didn’t dare approach the planet closely, light-speed lag times made two-way communication impossible; though of course, secure communications could scarcely be maintained anyway, with messages being beamed at a whole planet.
Micah scrawled a message, then grabbed his codebook and laboriously translated the message into unbreakable code. He could have just used the computer to code the message into standard fleet codes, of course, but Micah didn’t want this message seen by anyone but the agent concerned.
He called in his aide, and had the coded message delivered to the courier. Then, dismissing the incident from his mind, he returned to his work.
Micah could only hope that he’d have time to complete his preparations before Cord’s announcement.
Chapter IX
“Okay, Kaleen,” I asked, “Exactly what did you accomplish?”
“I seized Nemesis’ command defense systems using Imperial overrides,” she said. “You heard the resulting broadcast. It will continue repeating, blanketing all frequencies in the system, until they shut down and reboot Nemesis’ entire comm system. Weapons control comps have been infected with a virus that is deleting tactical controls. Nemesis should be able to neither fire on us, nor call in other vessels to attack.”
Kaleen's voice paused, and alarm bells began ringing in my head. A comp, hesitating? “Captain,” her voice resumed. “I must report that I took an action without direct instruction. But,” the voice added hurriedly, “you did instruct me to do anything that might increase our chances of escape without endangering human life, and I estimate that this action increased our chances of survival by 12.43729 percent.”
I began getting really frightened. How much did Kaleen know about what constituted danger to human life? Gods! What if she’d shut down life support? Nemesis carried over five thousand crewmembers! I kept my tone carefully casual.
“Exactly what did you do, Kaleen?” I asked quietly.
“I realized that Nemesis’ comps were designed with large-scale redundancy,” she explained. “All of the functions of the main artificial intelligence can be assumed by one or another of the smaller comps spread throughout the ship. Though they lack full AI capability, all that it would take to get Nemesis operational would be for someone to shut down the main AI and bring the distributed systems online.
“Since I am not familiar enough with human capabilities to assess the time required for someone to realize that and take action, I deemed it desirable to add a confusion factor.”
Now I was really getting worried. A comp was temporizing, behaving like a child confessing a misdeed! “What did you do?” I demanded.
“At the moment that we blasted clear of Nemesis, a timed command executed, and the gravity generators shut down. They can be restarted only by shutting down and rebooting the main engineering comp. Rear Admiral Jonas is effectively isolated for a period I estimate to be a minimum of twenty-four hours. At maximum boost, this should permit our escape, though perhaps not that of the marine commando on the planet below.”
I began to relax, and then started guiltily. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about Tor’s commando raid on Thaeron. Tor and his handpicked men had been huddling concealed in a rim tramp that grounded on Thaeron just as we were arriving in-system. The plan was for them to come out shooting upon a signal from Kaleen, penetrate the landing field’s security systems, and damage or destroy all the shuttles they could reach.
Since all of Jonas’ ships were too large to ground, all servicing and repairs had to be carried out at an orbital station. Virtually every tool, part, and supply had to be shuttled up from the planet. Tor’s mission had been to interfere with the servicing and even the staffing of Jonas’ ships by damaging or cutting their lifeline to the surface.
The escape plan for the commando had been as iffy as our own. After blowing Sheol out of anything that even resembled a shuttle, they were to regroup and reboard the tramp, where they would ha
ve mere seconds to don pressure suits while she lifted with her cargo hatch open, revealing the pair of heavy lasers welded to the hold deck.
Unlike us, there was a very good chance that the tramp would be pursued and attacked. Frankly, the lasers were more for morale than anything else. If Lubyloo couldn’t outrun any pursuers, there was little chance that the lasers could save the lives of the men aboard her.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from them?” I asked worriedly.
“I’m sorry, Captain. The only contact I’ve had was the acknowledgment of my signal as we entered Nemesis.”
“All right, Kaleen,” I began carefully. “In future, however, please inform me or whoever’s in command of any actions that you contemplate. I do not want you to underestimate a danger to human life. In this case, I approve. The confusion created by loss of gravity can only aid in our escape and that of Lubyloo. Just let me know before you do anything like that again, please.” I struggled to keep my tone even and calm.
“Yes, Captain,” Kaleen replied. Her tone was formal and grave. I could at least hope that she appreciated the importance of that instruction.
I was coming to realize that there were drawbacks to sentient ships.
Almost half an hour later Kaleen reported a ship lifting off Thaeron at a high gee. “From its size, I infer that it’s Lubyloo, Captain.”
I strained at the sensor screen. “Any pursuit?”
I could almost hear Kaleen shrug. “As we estimated, Captain, pursuit is not expected for a minimum of fifteen minutes. With communications blanketed by our announcement, the base has no way to inform the ships of the attack. Pursuit will require a ship to detect Lubyloo’s departure, her captain to decide that something is wrong, and then give the orders. I will continue to monitor as long as we remain in sensor range.”
“Thank you, Kaleen,” I replied. “As I remember, Jonas didn’t think highly of initiative in his subordinates. Hopefully, fear of Jonas will keep any ships from going after Lubyloo — if they’re in any condition to pursue at all.”
“After all,” I continued, talking, as much to myself as to Kaleen, “Chu-Lo’s message has to have had some impact! With any luck, fighting has broken out on most of the ships, with half the crew believing the message, and the other half convinced it’s a fake. Is there any movement at all?”
“None of the ships have maneuvered. Gyrfalcon, the destroyer that escorted us from the jump point, began warming her inertial drives, but that effort has ceased.”
It was maddening, watching the ships of Jonas’ flotilla orbiting serenely, just as they’d been before we arrived. With our tape disrupting all communications, we had no way of knowing if anything was happening.
Our only evidence was negative. No ships broke orbit to pursue Lubyloo, which was boosting frantically for a secondary jump point, or us. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as we jumped.
“What about Lubyloo?” I asked Kaleen, “Is she going to make it?”
“As of the moment of our jump, no pursuit had been mounted,” Kaleen replied. “It is doubtful that even the fastest of Admiral Jonas’ flotilla could catch her, and nothing that could possibly catch her is armed. Barring accident, Lubyloo should escape.”
I sighed again. “Thank all the odd gods of the galaxy! I hope Tor’s casualties weren't too heavy.”
The trip back to Outback system was no less nerve-wracking than the trip out. We had no way to judge how much trouble, if any, we had caused, or whether we’d delayed Jonas’ attack sufficiently. As before, I occupied most of my time with Kaleen, who was becoming more human every day. By the time we emerged, I was seriously worried about how Cord was going to react to his newly sentient ship.
My return was cause for a surprisingly large and heartfelt party aboard Valkyrie. When I returned aboard, people held their positions just long enough for the military courtesies to be dealt with, and then I was mobbed.
Amazingly, the first person to rush up and grab me was Suli. Tears were streaming down those lovely ebon cheeks, but I barely had time to notice before she planted an enthusiastic kiss on my lips and hugged me tightly against her magnificent breasts. Then she released me and fled while I gasped for breath and struggled to regain my composure.
I didn’t have time to wonder about it, though. People I didn’t recognize kept coming up to me and shaking hands, congratulating me on my success. Since we didn’t know whether my mission had been a success at all, I felt their congratulations were premature. However, the party lasted all night.
I waited for Lubyloo to return before I risked a report to Cord. Tor’s news was good. They’d disabled or destroyed every shuttle that hadn’t been in space at the time. Resistance had been limited to a few guards and techs with improvised weapons. Tor’s casualties were light; two dead and three wounded. By any measure, our mission had been an unqualified success.
Nevertheless, I was still reluctant to call Cord. I had to tell him that the most expensive ship in space wasn’t just a ship, but a person. What if they didn’t get along? What if Cord tried to order Kaleen disassembled? What if . . . I sighed. Worry was pointless, and I had temporized enough.
Some preparations were necessary, though. As soon as we’d entered Outback orbit, I’d sent for Doctor Petain, the compman Cord had sent to introduce me to Kaleen. (And who turned out to be one of the top designers and experts on the rim!) Luckily, he hadn’t yet returned to the Haven system.
Ever since I’d taken him aside and gently told him there was no longer doubt about Kaleen's sentience, he’d been running her through a series of tests and exercises, getting more excited by the moment. I wanted to make sure that he’d be available to answer Cord’s questions. I also had to ask Kaleen to disable all her audio and video sensors in the comm room, a much more difficult task. Finally, I had to pull rank and pretend to get angry. I could only hope she’d obey. Living with a sentient ship took some adjustment.
Finally, all was in readiness. I took a deep breath and flipped the switch establishing subspace connection with Haven.
Cord had obviously been anxiously awaiting my report. The relief on his face when he saw me uninjured reinforced my decision to join him. Cord cared about people!
“Well, Admiral,” He began, “You seem to have survived.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. Our part of the mission went exactly as planned, and the commando raid was also a success. Rimrunner and I are both undamaged, and the marines suffered two dead and three wounded. It could have been much worse.”
Cord grinned. “Excellent! Can you estimate the impact? How much time have we gained?”
I shrugged. “I’ve no way of knowing, sir. But after seventeen years in the Fleet, I’m sure that tape is the only subject of discussion in the Thaeron system.” I paused a moment before continuing. “Some Fleet people are going to die as a result of this. Maybe a lot of them.”
Cord nodded soberly. “I know, Admiral. However, we had no choice. If Jonas had launched an attack before we were ready, many more would have died.”
“I know, sir,” I replied, “But frankly, that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Nor I. But theoretically, there shouldn’t even be a problem. Direct orders from Admiral Chu-Lo should impress even the rawest recruit. Right now, Admiral Jonas and Captain Van-Lyn should be in their own brig, and the next-senior officer should be reporting to Haven for orders.”
I snorted. “Not likely! By now, Jonas is shouting his head off about how the message was faked, and if it was genuine, why did I run away? He won’t mention his ordering a marine to shoot me.” I shook my head. “No, there’s bound to be fighting and death in the Thaeron system.”
Cord nodded again. “I know. Actually, I’m hoping that one or more of Jonas’ ships will desert to us. All it would take would be a majority of the crew believing Admiral Chu-Lo’s announcement.” He shrugged, and then continued briskly, “Is there anything else, Admiral?” His tone was obviously dismissive, and he equally obviously
expected a negative answer.
I couldn’t evade it any longer. “Uh, yes, sir, there is one more thing. Uh, it’s about Kaleen.”
Cord looked puzzled for a moment. “Kaleen? Rimrunner's AI? Did something happen to it?”
“You could say so, sir.” I took a deep breath. “Sir, Kaleen’s sentient.”
He frowned. “Are they still arguing about that?”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand, sir. There can be no argument. Kaleen is sentient. Uh, perhaps I’d better bring Dr. Petain in to join this discussion.”
The frown had deepened. “Perhaps you’d better,” he replied. His tone had turned cold. I triggered a signal, and Dr. Petain entered the comm room.
“Good morning, Viceroy,” He began excitedly, “has the Admiral told you the good news? Kaleen is sentient! She's developing her own personality . . .” Cord held up a hand to force a pause in Petain’s bubbly recital.
“Please, Doctor,” Cord said coldly. “Restrain your enthusiasm for a moment. Thank you. Now,” he continued, “You’re absolutely certain that Kaleen is really sentient? A few weeks ago, there was considerable doubt, as I recall.”
Dr. Petain was squirming in his chair, struggling to restrain the enthusiasm of a scientist encountering his greatest dream and challenge. “Oh, there can be no more doubt," he bubbled. "Even that cretin Volpig will have to admit it. Kaleen is sentient! It’s wonderful!”
Cord turned his attention to me. “I gather that you had a hand in this, Admiral,” he said mildly, “If you don't mind my asking, what the Sheol did you do to my ship?” He looked furious.
“Uh, nothing, Viceroy,” I replied weakly. “I just had a lot of time on my hands during the trip to Thaeron and back. I . . . uh . . . I talked to Kaleen.”
His face was grim. “You talked to it . . . er . . . her? That’s all?”
I nodded. “That’s all, sir.”
Cord looked thoughtful for a moment. “Can she hear us now?”
I shook my head doubtfully. “I don’t think so, sir. I ordered her to disable all audio and video input from this room. I hope she obeys the order.”
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