Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials

by Jerry Borrowman

  Turning to O’Casey he said, “I know you love being in space, Tim, but with this terrorist threat hanging over our heads it’s more critical than ever that our new pilots have the best training possible. Shuttles make a particularly vulnerable target and you’re the best person I know to help our crews get ready. What do you say?”

  O’Casey was clearly flustered, but said, “I’ll give it very serious consideration, Sir. I promise.”

  “Good. Well, gentlemen, I’ve gotten everything I hoped for. Now, General Josephs has some business to transact.”

  Josephs was a very intense man, with a dark, almost ominous look. Small and compact, he obviously had great physical power, yet moved with a catlike grace. He spoke earnestly. “With the Admiral’s permission, I’d like to excuse everyone but Captain Jesik and the two Lieutenants.” Brighton, O’Casey and Park rose immediately and started out the door.

  Addressing Kensington, “I’m afraid this discussion is classified, Colonel, which precludes your attendance, as well.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Kensington, bumping a chair as he moved toward the door. His irritation showed clearly on his face, but there was nothing he could do but leave. Events had certainly taken a different turn than he had anticipated.

  Once the room was empty, the Admiral and four remaining men sat down at the conference table. Josephs pulled out a small electronic device, about the size of a personal digital assistant and set in on the table. A red light began blinking in a random pattern.

  “A simple precaution,” he explained, “in case there’s anyone else interested in what we have to say. Gentlemen, you were the subject of two attacks in the past three days. The ship that attacked you during your ascent has been positively identified as a Keswick rebel, brought in more than six months ago, apparently for this very purpose. One of the crewmembers was a Keswick, but the other was a young Kalenden from a third-class family. He belonged to an insurgent group we’ve been watching for the past three years. We’ve known they were extremists, but until now didn’t realize the extent of their preparation or commitment to their cause. It’s obvious from documents found at the flat in which they were staying, that they expected to be shot down after destroying a shuttlecraft, meaning they were willing to commit suicide to start a broader rebellion.”

  “Why did they choose our shuttlecraft?” asked Jesik.

  “We don’t know for sure, but preliminary clues indicate it was simply the luck of the draw. They wanted to get the first shuttle of the day, so they could be on all the news services as people were going to work.”

  “You said there was a second attack, Sir,” Carter recounted.

  “Yes. That’s why this meeting is classified. Everyone, including the news services, believes the observation platform broke from its tethers because of the gale force winds. But the steel mooring cables are strong enough to withstand winds at least a dozen times stronger than those encountered today. Surveillance tapes show one of the maintenance engineers used an acetylene torch to weaken the cables. Further investigation revealed he’s a member of the same resistance group as the pilots who attacked your shuttle. So, now we’re faced with the prospect of future terrorism and while we don’t think the rebel cause has broad appeal, our society hasn’t had to deal with terrorism in over three hundred years. The effect of additional attacks could be devastating to public morale.”

  Jesik frowned thoughtfully before saying, “How can we help?”

  “We need to know everything you learned about the rebels during the Keswick campaign, Captain. We need to profile the rebels to understand what they hope to accomplish here.”

  Jesik picked his words with even more than his usual caution.

  “I hope you’re right about the rebels being a small group. But we underestimated their strength on Keswick. They were far better prepared than any intelligence reports had indicated, even though we had the participation of both Keswick and Alturian intelligence agencies.”

  “I don’t see how the situation on Keswick is similar to ours,” the Admiral intoned. “The rebels were fighting against an entrenched bureaucracy legitimized by the monarchy. Our government is far more open.”

  “That’s true, Sir. Still, how long has it been since a second or third-class family sent a representative to the Quadrant Council, or furnished the system with a Prime Minister? It’s amazing how easy it is for a skilled orator to make a minority group feel aggrieved. And the rebel leader, John Lansing, is a man of incredible skill and persuasion. If he’s involved, there’s no telling how much influence our rebels have.”

  The Admiral shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Then it’s obvious we have a lot to learn,” said Josephs. “I didn’t want to alarm Commodore Park, so it’s important you Lieutenants work closely with him. Unfortunately, the Allegro will be leaving orbit in one month, not three and we’ll need part of your time to brief us on the terrorist tactics you learned while in combat on Keswick.” Eaves and Carter acknowledged his order and withdrew from the meeting.

  Admiral Showalter turned to Jesik. “Now, Captain, I’ll tell you what’s next. I suspect you’ll be unhappy with part of what we have to tell you.”

  “Sir?”

  “We need you to return to Keswick to engage in a dialogue with Mr. Lansing. It seems there’s trouble brewing with unhappy Loyalists and some kind fringe element. Our Esper communications from Major Wilkerson indicates that Lansing and his cabinet often refer to you in their dialogue. You’ve earned his confidence and we need your help. We have to persuade Lansing that it’s in his best interest to contain any further unrest on Keswick before it spreads here to Kalenden. We’re going to pull you into some high-level briefings with the Prime Minister and cabinet ministers in the next few weeks, so you’ll be prepared.”

  “I’ve never thought of myself as a diplomat, Sir, but I’ll certainly do what I can.”

  The Admiral nodded, looked around a bit nervously. “Your negotiations must be conducted in secret, so that rebel spies here and on Alturus are unaware of your influence. If we’re to maintain you as an informal communications channel, we have to provide a cover for you. Which is why the Quadrant Council has named Colonel Kensington as their official representative to Alturus, a position approved because of the Keswick insurrection. He’ll be traveling with you.”

  Admiral Showalter winced as he said this and braced for Jesik’s reaction.

  After a moment of stunned silence, Jesik responded, “You want Kensington as leader of the delegation?”

  “Yes. I know you have issues with Kensington and we’ve anticipated that by transferring him to the Diplomatic Corps. He’ll have no operational command of your vessel during the journey and, once on Keswick, he’ll assume ceremonial functions only, while Wilkerson carries on the day-to-day management of our affairs.”

  Jesik’s mind was reeling and he felt that, no matter what he said, it would come out wrong. Still, a man like Kensington could ruin everything, so he had to give it a try.

  “With all due respect, Sir, Colonel Kensington’s demeanor may prove annoying to the Keswick rebels. For one thing, he’s from a most prominent family on Kalenden, which is what the rebel’s opposed.” That was dangerous to say, since Showalter was also from a leading family.

  “Captain, we understand far more than you might imagine. We intend for the Colonel to stay on Keswick for a month or two, at most – just enough to throw some lavish receptions and show the Kalenden flag. Then he will continue on to Alturus as our charge-d´ affairs.”

  Jesik rubbed his temples for a moment. The thought of spending the next nine or ten months with Kensington was almost too much for his mind to absorb. But, the plan had merit. “Appointing Colonel Kensington may actually work out alright, since the Alturians still have a very strong monarchy. Colonel Kensington should fit right in.”

  “Actually, the Kensington family still has royal ties, which is why he was chosen.”

  Jesik sat quietly, trying to absorb
the full impact of sharing a dinner table with Kensington. It’s like his worst nightmare had just exploded into daylight, but there was no way to awaken and make it go away.

  “Captain,” the Admiral asked quietly, “Can you tell me what the dispute between you and the Colonel is about?”

  Jesik sighed. “It’s not really a dispute. In fact, I’d be content to get on with our lives. I’d like to forget I ever knew him. But, his attitude toward me is stuck in a fight we had while cadets at the academy. The ironic part is that he actually bested me, costing me something I valued more than anything else in the world. You’d think he’d be happy about that, but things didn’t turn out as he wished and so he continues to try to discredit me.” Jesik’s knuckles were white and he had to make a conscious effort to unclench his fist. Looking up, he smiled. “But at least up ‘til now, I’ve been able to survive.”

  “I hope you can deal with this for I can’t change his appointment.”

  Leaning forward, Jesik said, “It isn’t about me, Sir. I’ve learned to live with him. It’s that he tries to get at me through people who serve with me like trying to oust Lieutenant Eaves and Carter from the competition today. I can’t contradict him publicly so they’re made to suffer because of his dislike for me.”

  “Captain, the sensible solution would be to reassign you and let someone else take Kensington to Alturus. But, you’re the one to deal with Lansing and Wilkerson and so I’m asking you to accept this command. In view of what you’ve told me, though, I’ll recommend that Major Wilkerson be promoted to full Colonel, with continuing authority to work with the Keswick government. That will give him military precedence over Kensington, who, of course, will be furious when he learns about it. So perhaps we won’t announce it until you’re a week or so away from Keswick. In the meantime, I’ll issue a formal protocol stating that you are in command of all naval military forces in the sector. Kensington cannot override your decisions and I emphasize that he is going merely as a figurehead. If he stays with his modus operandi, he’ll irritate half the quadrant, which will give you perfect cover to get real work done. I can’t force you to go, but I hope you will.”

  Jesik looked up. “I’ll go.”

  Showalter and Josephs both sighed with relief and shook Jesik’s hand.

  “By the way, your Lieutenant Commander Magill may need a transfer to Alturus for additional surgery on his feet. It seems they are much better at that than we are. Major Wilkerson reports he’s invaluable diplomatically but his wounds are failing to heal. The only course left to our doctors is amputation, but communications with Alturian medical authorities indicate they think they can halt the effects of the radiation burns and provide some use of his limbs. For some reason, they’ve taken a real interest in his case.”

  “He’s one of the best young men I’ve ever worked with, so I’ll do whatever I can to facilitate his full recovery. It seems we’re enjoying an unusual amount of contact with Alturus, given nearly two centuries of silence.”

  “I think the Keswick rebellion has scared the hell out of them. For better or worse, our three planets share a common heritage and the problems of one can’t help but impact the others. Perhaps the rebellion will be the means for us to finally close old wounds, eh?”

  “I hope so, Sir. And please don’t overreact to my comments about Colonel Kensington. It’s not my place to be critical of a superior officer.”

  “For crying out loud, Jesik, you’ve only had to talk to him by Esper link on a few occasions,” said Josephs, speaking up for the first time, “but we work with him every day. If his family didn’t have so much influence…”

  Admiral Showalter interrupted, “What General Josephs is saying is that you need not worry about our conversation. We asked you to speak frankly and you’ve been perfectly candid. Now, you’ve got a lot to do over the next thirty days, so I suggest you get a good night’s sleep, enjoy the awards banquet tomorrow, and then get on with your duties.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Josephs stood and left the room. Showalter came close to Jesik and said quietly, “Is there anything I can do to settle the problem with Kensington?”

  Jesik was so startled by this that all he could come up with was, “What?” But he quickly added, “I’m afraid it’s such an old story that nothing can ever be done. But thank you for offering, Sir.” Showalter lingered for a moment and Jesik added, “I’ll be alright, you don’t need to worry.”

  They saluted and Showalter departed. Looking back through the door he thought Jesik’s expression was the most forlorn he’d ever seen.

  * * *

  The awards banquet for the Manhattan Trials was always a cheerful event, but this night it took extreme center stage. Nearly fifty extra tables had been added at the last moment to accommodate all the additional luminaries who decided to show up. It was clearly the place to be for anyone who wished to keep their name current on the social register.

  The Allegro crew sat at a table near the front, joined by the parents of Lieutenants Carter and Eaves, who were overwhelmed by the attention their sons were receiving. The Carters were quiet and unassuming, even though they were from a prominent family. The Eaves were much more at ease circulating among the crowd, although not in a pretentious way. They thanked Jesik and the others for inspiring their son to finally take something seriously.

  After a marvelous dinner of simulated steak and lobster, followed by a stunning presentation of cherries flambé, the host for the evening, Commodore Park, called the room to order. He was a genial man who held the affection of everyone in the Shuttle Service and whose goodwill radiated through the microphone. The first order of business was for the previous year’s winners to return the coveted alinite chalice to the judges. Of course, each crewmember was allowed to retain a miniature replica of the cup as a permanent award.

  “The competition this year was unusually difficult,” Park began, “particularly in view of the weather and the unfortunate incident on the first day. Additionally, seven of twelve teams were either disqualified or withdrew from the competition due to the harsh weather conditions.”

  That wasn’t too unusual. There were many years when the weather interfered with the games. It was seen as just another factor to be conquered.

  The Allegro’s helmsman, Kevin Wight, leaned over to Jason Carter and whispered, “In view of your practically perfect landing, I don’t see how anyone else could possibly win.” One way the judges added an element of suspense to the trials was to not post their scores until the awards banquet. Thus, there was no way to know in advance who the actual winner was.

  “Normally, we only announce the first and second runner-ups before awarding the cup to the top point winner. But, this year we feel the need to give an explanation about the fifth place team.”

  This prompted a slight murmur from the crowd.

  “Let me get right to the point. When we first ran the calculations, the Allegro shuttlecraft was number one in points. But before the results were made final, Colonel Kensington asked if he could review the tapes, to provide a verification of the results.”

  “What’s he done this time?” Wight whispered, a bit too loudly.

  “The tapes indicate a problem with the Allegro’s first landing attempt. Although the placement was almost dead center, the problem with the observation platform apparently caused them to lift off before all four paws had firmly settled on the pad. Assuming that’s correct, the first attempt was incomplete and so we need to count their second attempt, which, by the way, was also excellent. But of course, the time spent in the rescue effort deducted points, all of which places them last among the competitors.”

  At this point the crowd did more than murmur. There were shouts of “Shame! Shame!” and “Give them the cup!” Among those shouting most loudly were members of the four teams that had remained in the competition.

  Park used the gavel to bring the group back to order. “The Allegro crew now has the chance to formally protest and the judges can
exercise their judgment in determining their qualification. After all, these truly were unique circumstances. It falls to the shuttle’s commander, Lieutenant Travis Eaves, to request a review.”

  Carter was sick to his stomach, not at losing, but at what Eaves might do next. No one had ever worked harder to win a competition and the thought that Kensington had found a way to disqualify them was infuriating.

  The spotlights swung to the Allegro table and a steward brought Eaves a microphone. Everyone waited to hear his challenge, which was likely to include a heavy layer of his trademark sarcasm. Eaves stood with a placid expression on his face, cleared his throat and spoke easily into the microphone. “Until this moment I hadn’t taken time to review the first landing. But as I think about it, Colonel Kensington is absolutely correct. We settled stern first and I remember I hadn’t fully released the bow membrane when Lieutenant Carter reported the danger to the observation building. So, he’s right. We didn’t complete the landing.”

  The crowd was at first stunned, then it went wild, with people yelling for him to contest the decision anyway.

  “Am I to understand, Lieutenant, that you do not exercise your right to request a judges’ decision?”

  “Of course not,” said Eaves, “we didn’t win. It’s as simple as that.” Then he sat down.

  After a moment of stunned silence, a growling noise grew among the crowd and quickly turned into a cheer for the Allegro crew. Jesik touched his hand to his brow in a silent salute for Eaves’ decision and Commodore Park looked down at his notes for the longest time, to give everyone time to collect their thoughts. Finally he asked the audience to again come to order and proceeded to announce the runner-ups and winners. The response to these announcements was subdued, but no one applauded louder for each winner than the people from Allegro. Carter still had an ache in the pit of his stomach and noticed that Commander Brighton took more than his one customary drink. In fact, the only two who were unaffected by the decision were those with the greatest stake in the competition, Eaves and O’Casey. It just didn’t make sense.