by David Drake
"Ship, we've done it!" Daniel said. He made what would've been the correct series of keystrokes on the Princess Cecile but he got a transaction failed legend. "Break, Cory, damn this bloody thing to hell! Can you echo the cruiser's image on all the ship's displays, over?"
The Duilio continued to fall toward the surface, braked by plasma thrusters alone. She'd stopped being a threat. Indeed, given the sort of damage chronic High Drive failure did to the ship mounting the motors, ap Glynn'd be lucky if he managed a controlled crash rather than simply augering in. Acute failure—lighting the High Drive with the throat of the motor full of normal matter—destroyed the unit itself in a shattering explosion, but antimatter leaked into a thin atmosphere was a cancer. It ate the external hull until the converter finally managed to destroy itself and stop the process.
"Ship," Daniel said, "we've crippled the Pellegrinian cruiser and—"
An image of the Duilio filled his display. Cory'd found the instruction set that'd eluded Daniel a moment previously, but he'd applied it a touch too generally.
Daniel opened his mouth to bellow a protest, but the midshipman caught himself before the words came out. The cruiser shrank back to a small inset on the command display, but the gunnery and navigation consoles still showed a full-screen image.
"Right!" said Daniel. "Crippled them, knocked them right out of the fight, Sibyls! We hold the space around Dunbar's World in the name of the Federal Republic, and our allies on the ground hold what'd been the invaders' base."
He hoped that was still true; he didn't actually know what'd happened on Mandelfarne Island since the Sissie'd lifted under fire. Still, ap Glynn wouldn't have been enforcing his blockade so fiercely if the Bennarian Volunteers had surrendered to Nataniel Arruns.
"As soon as we see what happens to Pellegrinian cruiser—"
The Duilio curved onto the hidden side of the planet in a cometary blaze. Daniel knew it was possible to import satellite imagery, but he didn't care that much. The cruiser was certainly out of the fight. Adele would've had the pictures for him, though, without him needing to ask.
"—we'll make further plans. At present I expect to contact our allies and provide support from orbit while Councilor Corius arranges the surrender of the invading forces. Fellow Sibyls, we've shown everybody what it means to fight the finest professionals in the galaxy!"
It'd been on the tip of his tongue to say, "fight the RCN." That would've been a bad mistake when most of his crew claimed allegiance to the Alliance.
The image of the Duilio reappeared, blurred because the optics weren't really up to the corrections necessary to look deeply through the atmosphere. It was details like that which reminded Daniel he was in a ship built on the cheap for the export market. Though she'd done the job, you couldn't argue with that.
"Sir?" said Midshipman Cory.
Daniel's face blanked. How's Cory gotten into a channel that should've allowed only me to speak? Then, Because he's my signals officer, that's how!
"What's happened to the Princess Cecile, sir? Are they all right?"
"I don't—" Daniel said. If he'd had Cory in front of him, he'd have throttled the boy, put his hands around his throat and squeezed till his eyes popped out.
"—know at this moment—"
Because Daniel was always watching his display, no matter what was on his mind or how angry he might be, he saw the blue bead wink onto the PPI screen. Even before the icon with the legend pri appeared beside it, he knew what it was.
"Fellow spacers," Daniel said, "I was incorrect. The Princess Cecile has just extracted from the Matrix at a distance of 41,000 miles from Dunbar's World. I expect her signals officer will be contacting us very—"
And as he spoke, a familiar voice on his helmet earphones said, "Daniel, are you all right?"
"Yes, Adele," Daniel said. It wasn't proper protocol, but protocol be hanged. "Now everything is all right."
CHAPTER 28
Mandelfarne Island on Dunbar's World
"Gentlemen and ladies," said Daniel, pulling out his own chair. "Please be seated."
The plural "ladies" was stretching the point. Adele was at his side, while Elemere sat with Krychek across the square table. Between them were Corius and Colonel Quinn to Daniel's left, and to the right a pair of Federal Republic officials—Field Marshal, formerly General, Mahler and a civilian named Bartolomeo, the Finance Minister, who'd just arrived from Sinclos.
There wasn't a suitable conference room on Mandelfarne Island, but the weather was sunny with a brisk wind that kept the summer heat from being incapacitating, so Daniel'd ordered a sailcloth marquee spread over the Duilio's dorsal turret. The covered area was fifteen feet by twenty-five, quite sufficient for eight people around a table.
They could've cleared the cruiser's Great Cabin for the meeting, but Daniel preferred the outdoor location for a number of reasons. It was the highest flat surface on the island, so the gathered leaders could both see and be seen by everyone else. It gave them a close view of the damage done to the cruiser by the Sibyl's guns, which demonstrated to the local officials just how effective plasma cannon could be.
Perhaps the most important reason was the fact that Daniel found the setting congenial but he suspected that the others did not. If they were uncomfortable, they were less likely to bluster and force him to demonstrate that the real power was in the hands of the RCN representative. Bartolomeo had initially spoken as though he were in charge.
Daniel'd learned from his father's example that in the long term you were better off leaving your opponents with their dignity. If you robbed them of that, you had to destroy them utterly so that they couldn't come back and stab you at a later moment. Speaker Leary had understood the latter rule also, as the sole surviving Mundy could've testified.
Spacers were using a diamond saw to replace the cruiser's High Drive motors. The keening was audible, but it wasn't the overwhelming shriek it'd have been if the conference hadn't been seventy feet above with the depth of the hull between. The replacement units had been unbolted from the wreckage of the Greybudd in normal fashion, but flaring antimatter had welded the remains of the Duilio's motors into the remains of their mountings.
"I'm not clear on the purpose of this meeting, Leary," Bartolomeo said, mopping his forehead with a checked kerchief. He was a florid man whose quick, darting eyes had never quite made contact with Daniel's. "And I don't mind saying that I don't like heights!"
And I don't mind hearing it, Daniel thought. With a bland smile he said, "You can think of this as a logistical conference, Minister. As the ranking representative of the Republic of Cinnabar, it falls to me to suggest some dispositions."
"I don't see that you have any right whatever!" Bartolomeo said. "Dunbar's World is an independent—"
Corius rapped the table sharply with the tips of his right index and middle fingers. Marshal Mahler touched the minister's shoulder and, when the latter glanced up angrily, gave a quick shake of his head. Fallert was on the Dorsal 2 mainyard, watching the meeting from thirty feet away; Hogg and Tovera were on Dorsal 3, a similar distance aft of the turret. Bartolomeo hadn't noticed them or hadn't understood the implications, but Mahler certainly had.
"Commander Leary's skill and intelligence gave me my victory," Corius said calmly. "I'm more than ready to endorse any suggestions which such a benefactor chooses to make. Given that Dunbar's World owes her very liberty to him, I should think that in simple courtesy you'd grant him the same precedence, Minister Bartolomeo."
"Well, of course I'll listen to what he has to say," Bartolomeo said, licking his lips. "I . . ."
His voice trailed off; he'd finally noticed Fallert's grin. He jerked his eyes down to the table in front of him.
"To begin with, there's the problem of the Pellegrinian prisoners," Daniel said. "I suppose under the laws of war they're the responsibility of the Federal Republic, but—"
"We don't have the facilities to feed and house eight thousand men," said Marshal Mahler. "Thus
far they've been eating their own supplies and the weather's been temperate enough to keep them in the open here on Mandelfarne Island, but neither of those things will last long."
"We're not responsible!" Bartolomeo said quickly, though he kept his face lowered. "And they certainly can't be allowed back onto the mainland. Why, they're just pirates, you know. We should shoot them all!"
"Do you have any idea how long it would take to shoot eight thousand people?" asked Adele. She'd been sitting primly with her personal data unit on the table in front of her. Now she eyed Bartolomeo like a hawk over a vole. When the minister didn't look up, she tapped his earlobe with the wand in her right hand.
"Do you, Minister Bartolomeo?" she repeated in a tone as thin as a razor. "Or are you proposing that we of the RCN handle the task with plasma cannon? Is that your plan?"
"I don't—" the civilian said. He leaned away from her, his eyes wide. "I didn't—"
Mahler put his hand firmly on Bartolomeo's shoulder and said, "Commander Leary, what solution do you propose?"
The fellow's showing himself to better advantage than he did as a rabbit being dug out of his hole, Daniel thought. Aloud he said, "I've discussed the matter informally with Councilor Corius. As I understand it, he's prepared to supply the prisoners and transport them off-planet."
Corius nodded. He was a handsome man and had a very pleasant smile, if you didn't look up at his eyes.
"I've already started making the arrangements," he said. "I've held discussions with the surviving Pellegrinian officers, and I'm pleased to say they're in enthusiastic agreement."
"They agree, you say?" said Landholder Krychek in a tone of surprise.
"I believe they were expecting alternatives of the sort Minister Bartolomeo proposed," Corius said. He chuckled. "Gathering sufficient shipping may take as long as ten days. I trust I can expect the help and forbearance of the Federal Republic during the delay?"
He raised an eyebrow toward the minister. "Well, I . . .," Bartolomeo said, then looked down at his hands again.
"Given that ten thousand trained troops are in favor of your plan, Councilor," Daniel said with a cheery smile to lay a swatch of velvet over the iron reality of his words, "it'd seem extremely dangerous, not to mention inhumane, for the Republic not to support it fully. Wouldn't you agree, Marshal Mahler?"
"My troops'll do all they can to make sure supplies get to the camps and to generally keep a lid on it while you're hiring transports, you bet," Mahler said. "But the sooner the better, Councilor."
"And to that end," Daniel said, "I've arranged the sale of the Rainha, an RCN prize, to Councilor Corius."
Referring to the Rainha as a prize was shading reality a trifle. Strictly speaking, Adele was the only active-service RCN officer involved in the taking, which otherwise bore many similarities to piracy carried out by Cinnabar citizens. Daniel was quite willing to pay the normal quarter share to Navy House when he returned to Xenos in order to beg that question.
He cleared his throat, then continued, "The prisoners are taken care of, then. The next—"
"One moment!" Bartolomeo said. "One thing I must know: where is Nataniel Arruns himself? We cannot compromise on this!"
"My servant Tovera," said Adele, looking at the minister but speaking with less emotion than a voice synthesizer would inject, "informs me that Arruns and his personal staff refused to surrender. They were killed in the fighting."
"Rather a fortunate result, frankly," said Corius with his usual smile. "His presence would've complicated my negotiations with the other Pellegrinian officers."
"Is that true?" said Marshal Mahler, looking past Bartolomeo to Adele. "I would've have expected . . ."
"I'm quite sure that Arruns is dead if Tovera says he is," Adele said in the same flat tone. "If you believe it's necessary to look into the circumstances of his death, you have my permission to question my servant."
Mahler looked over his shoulder. Hogg grinned and waved with his left hand. The marshal faced around quickly and said, "I misspoke. My apologies."
"Next," Daniel continued in the pause, "is the matter of captured equipment. I propose that the small arms be delivered to Councilor Corius in consideration of Bennarian help in resisting the invaders. Marshal?"
Mahler grimaced. "I'd been hoping—" he said, then angrily shook his head. "No, I'm not going to get in your way, Leary."
He snorted. In a more cheerful tone he added, "I've seen what happens to people who do."
"Your society is already unsettled by the invasion," Adele said. Though dry, her voice was as harsh as a saw blade. "The availability of that number of automatic rifles would have even more serious consequences for the social order. I can give you examples after the meeting, if you'd like."
She smiled without humor. "I've seen examples."
"There remains the captured gear other than weapons," Daniel said, "including vehicles and heavy equipment. I believe these will be of value to your army, Marshal."
Bartolomeo looked from Daniel to Marshal Mahler. "The disposition of spoils is a matter for the finance ministry, not the army," he said sharply.
Daniel shrugged and smiled. "That's an internal matter for you gentlemen to discuss at leisure," he said. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a satisfactory solution."
Really he was sure that a number of local officials, including Mahler and Bartolomeo, were going to make a very good thing out of the loot, while little or none would go to either the army or the treasury. That didn't even begin to be a concern of Daniel Leary or the Republic of Cinnabar.
Krychek had been sitting with his hand over Elemere's. Now he removed it and thumped both palms on the tabletop. Leaning forward slightly, he said in a tone of challenge, "You haven't mentioned this Duilio, Leary, this cruiser. You are repairing it as we all hear. You plan to give it to Cinnabar, that is so?"
"It most certainly is not so, Landholder Krychek," said Daniel. He straightened in his seat and tried to give the words a properly upper-class nasal twang. Adele could've done it much better. . . . "I would regard any such action as a violation of my agreement with you—a despicable violation! In fact, I intend to transfer the Duilio to the Bennarian naval forces in exchange for the destroyer Sibyl. Which in turn—"
Krychek's face had flushed, then gone pale. Elemere laid her palm on the Landholder's bearded cheek. She smiled at Daniel as she spoke reassuringly in an undertone.
"—I propose to make over to you, milord," Daniel continued. "I hope you'll consider the Sibyl fair recompense for the Mazeppa and your valuable services to Leary of Bantry in my personal activities on Bennaria and here."
"By God, Leary," Krychek said.
He stood and reached over the table. Bartolomeo jumped back to avoid a brawl, but the Landholder merely gripped Daniel's hand and pumped it enthusiastically. "By God, you're a man!" he said.
Daniel rose and clasped the Landholder with both hands, then disengaged by stepping back. He looked to either side, largely to break eye contact as a hint to Krychek that it was time to sit down again.
"I realize that it may seem I'm being cavalier with other people's property," he said, "but I'm able to be the honest broker in this case since I have no share of the proceeds."
"The starship Rainha, you said," Bartolomeo noted with a fierce glance. "That's surely something, is it not?"
"The Rainha was captured on Pellegrino by persons under my command," Adele said, her voice rising. "In no respect does that affair become the business of yourself or Dunbar's World, sirrah!"
Daniel couldn't see his friend's face from his present angle, but Mahler flinched back as she focused her gaze on him. "Marshal," Adele said, enunciating with unusual precision even for her, "I suggest you muzzle your dog or I'll have him whipped into the sea. On my oath as a Mundy!"
Adele wouldn't ordinarily do that, Daniel thought. The shoulder wound, or perhaps what she'd been doing when she was wounded, was affecting her.
Loudly he said, "Remember your place, Mundy!
I'm the ranking officer here."
He paused, then went on, "I will have him whipped into the sea."
Bartolomeo's mouth opened and closed twice. His expression wobbled between fear and anger as he tried to determine whether he was being threatened or mocked. Both, I suppose, Daniel decided.
"Commander, mistress," Mahler said. "We beg your pardon." He sounded sincere.
Adele visibly relaxed. She turned, looking up to Daniel, and nodded. "Sorry, sir," she said quietly.
"Quite all right, Mundy," Daniel said as he settled back onto his chair. "You were provoked. Now, getting back to business—"
He smiled brightly at the assembled group. Colonel Quinn looked extremely uncomfortable. Daniel wondered if it'd been a misstep at a meeting with Headman Ferguson and his magnates which'd cost Quinn his nose, ears, and position. That wasn't going to happen here, but Quinn was correct in feeling out of place.