Confluence

by S. K. Dunstall

  She threw it at Dow. “Here’s your money. Be warned, Sattur. You think you’re too powerful to be reached, but everyone has secrets, you more than most.” Chen turned and walked away.

  Dow watched her go. He picked up the chit, then came back inside.

  “Is there anyone inside there, Linesman?”

  Ean blinked. “Sorry,” he said to Saylor. “I was momentarily distracted.”

  Sattur Dow rejoined them. “Apologies, Linesman.” He inclined his head toward Saylor. “Ethan, would you please find out what Merchant Chen’s problem is?”

  Saylor smiled although the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, Sattur.” He nodded politely to them both, leaving Ean alone with Sattur Dow again.

  The noise in the room dropped. Yu, Bach, and the Factor looked at Ean.

  He should have been listening to them, not to Dow.

  “Linesman Lambert,” Bach said. “When did you first realize—” His comms beeped. He glanced at the screen, thumb about to swipe the message to silence it. He paused, then looked up. “Please excuse me. I must take this call.”

  Michelle had exited from the shuttle and was making her way quickly along the corridors. Coming this way. She walked so briskly, her bodyguards had to half trot to keep up with her.

  “What was in Jakob’s message?” Yu demanded, as they waited for Bach to return.

  “I don’t know.” He considered telling them to ask Vega, but Vega would be forced to say he was the one who heard it. He repeated the few words he could remember.

  Yu’s face, and the Factor’s, grew grimmer as they listened. “That’s only an approximation.”

  “Translated?” Yu asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ean said, but Yu was looking at the Factor.

  Coming from neighboring worlds, he would know enough Redmond to get by.

  The Factor shook his head.

  An uncomfortable silence fell.

  Ean didn’t break it. Instead, he listened to Bach take his call outside the door.

  The woman on the comms was the same woman Bach had been talking to earlier. “This had better be important,” Bach said.

  “I found who assigned Han’s son to Redmond.”

  Redmond again. Why was everyone at Redmond all of a sudden? Including Radko.

  “And?” Bach asked.

  “Commodore Jiang Vega.”

  “Vega,” Bach said, as Michelle slowed to enter the foyer where he was talking.

  Michelle looked at him.

  Bach bowed. “Your Royal Highness.”

  “Commodore Bach.”

  Bach bowed and waited for her to enter before he turned back to his comms. “Send a code five,” he told the woman. He flicked off and frowned down at the screen, then followed Michelle in.

  Michelle inclined her head. “Father. Factor. Merchant Dow. Good evening.” She nodded at Ean.

  “Daughter. So glad you could make my supper. I heard you were staying on Haladea III tonight.”

  “My meeting finished early,” Michelle said. “And I had some security issues I needed to discuss with Commodore Vega.”

  “We have been hearing about security issues.” Yu ignored what was an obvious warning glance from Bach. “You spy on your guests.”

  “Surely not.” Michelle didn’t look at Ean, but he knew she knew who had precipitated the accusation.

  Yu’s comms vibrated discreetly then. And Bach’s. And those of an assistant.

  Yu ignored his comms. “Yes, apparently you are—”

  The assistant raised a discreet hand.

  Yu took out his own comms. He glanced at the message, raised a brow in Bach’s direction. Bach nodded.

  Was that Bach’s code five? What was Vega involved in? And if it was Redmond, was Radko involved?

  Yu swiped his comms off with force. He looked at Michelle. “We are not finished with this conversation, Daughter, but I have other issues to attend for the moment.”

  “Of course. My ship is at your disposal, Father.”

  “The Factor of the Lesser Gods wishes to be present at the interrogation of Captain Jakob. Arrange this, Daughter.” He turned to Bach. “We should start now for Haladea III,” and glanced at Michelle again. “In case Galenos steps up the timing of his interrogations.”

  He swept out, the Factor close behind him. Bach followed them both, calling Helmo for clearance for the Emperor’s shuttle.

  Sattur Dow, left behind, bowed to Michelle.

  “Excuse my rudeness, Sattur,” Michelle said. “But I must organize the Factor’s request to sit in on the interrogation. Ean,” and she indicated he was to leave in front of her.

  Ean half bowed to Sattur Dow on the way out. “Good night, Merchant.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  EAN LAMBERT

  EAN TRIED TO pull the screens on the shuttle through to the screen in Vega’s office. He couldn’t.

  “It won’t be wired for comms,” Vega said. “The only time you’ll ever get a signal out of there is if someone opens a channel on their comms. You could kill someone in one of those secure shuttles and no one would know. Not unless they recorded it.”

  He tried for Bach’s comms but didn’t know it well enough to identify which, out of the thousands around, it was.

  Vega made them tea. It was only the four of them. Michelle, Ean, Sale, and Vega. “You’re here to save Lambert from his supper?” she asked Michelle.

  Michelle nodded.

  “At least something makes sense. And you, Lambert. Why the sudden spying on Bach?”

  “Because he wants your head,” Ean said. “On his desk. By morning.”

  Vega paused making the tea. “Literally? Or figuratively?”

  “He doesn’t actually want your head, I think, but he was unhappy with something you did. He called a code five.”

  “A what?”

  “A code five, and not long after that, Yu got a message.” Ean was sure that Yu’s message had been precipitated by Bach.

  “We don’t do codes by numbers,” Vega said. “Ours are names, like Situation Josiah.”

  From the way Michelle nodded, Josiah was a real code. Maybe the numbers were a personal code between Bach and his boss.

  “Vega, who is Yves Han, and is he or she with Radko?”

  Vega spilled the tea she was bringing across to Michelle. She didn’t say anything until she’d mopped up and made another glass.

  “I want a linesman of my own,” she told Michelle. “If we all had personal linesmen, we wouldn’t have any need for war, for nothing would be secret.”

  Michelle’s smile showed her dimples. The best smile. “Level twelve. They’re hard to come by.”

  “I still want one. One that I control, rather than one that controls me. So, Lambert, where did you hear about Han?”

  “Bach was talking about him earlier, to someone called Lord Renaud. He was on the comms to him when we went in to supper.”

  Not that they’d had any supper.

  “He told Renaud he’d deal with it, then he called up this other woman, told her to find out who had assigned Yves Han to a covert operation, and said he wanted their head on his desk by the morning. She called back later—before Michelle arrived—and said she’d found who assigned Han to Redmond. You had. After that, Bach called his code five. I think they went down to the planet so they could talk about you.”

  “Is that Renaud Han’s son?” Michelle asked.

  Vega nodded. “Yves Han. He worked for me for two years when I was at Baoshan Barracks. He’s very good. He’s wasted where he is.”

  Of course Vega would send good people with Radko.

  “I sent three people with Radko. All failed linesmen. She is, after all, uniquely positioned to understand the abilities and difficulties of working with such people.”

  If
it was meant to be an insult, Ean ignored it.

  “Two of them had failed certification. Yves Han didn’t. He certified with House of Sandhurst. Level seven, and the lines know, we need sevens. He came home not long afterward to attend a function.” She looked at Michelle. “He is Lord Renaud’s son, after all.”

  Michelle nodded.

  “He stopped off at a hotel before the event. The day some crazy woman blew herself up there. Killed fifty people. Yves Han spent six months in hospital having his body rebuilt. When he came out he couldn’t communicate with the lines anymore. The doctors say there was no brain damage, and that his loss of lines is psychosomatic, rather than physical, in origin. They posit that he was doing something line-related at the time of the explosion, and that it is so intertwined with the memory of the explosion that he shuts down whenever he tries to use the lines.”

  “And you thought Ean might be able to fix it.”

  “Lambert’s method of interacting with the lines is different,” Vega said. “I thought it might be strange enough to bypass any mental blocks.”

  She might be right.

  “Han’s father said he was in trouble,” Ean said. “He wanted Bach to rescue him.”

  Damage control, Bach had said. What were they doing on Redmond anyway?

  “Let’s find out what the trouble is,” Vega said. “And let’s hope Bach isn’t talking to Lord Renaud at the same time.”

  * * *

  THE time lag between Lancia and the Haladean sector was nineteen minutes.

  While they waited, Sale went down to the mess and came back with plates of supper. “If it’s okay with you, ma’am,” she said apologetically, and Ean wasn’t sure who she was saying it to. “But neither of us have eaten yet.”

  “I haven’t eaten in ages either,” Michelle said. “I wouldn’t mind something myself.”

  “Remember the sandwiches when we met,” Ean said, and he and Michelle shared a smile.

  “I’ll never forget.”

  Michelle’s comms buzzed. Her father. Ean thought about tracing the comms.

  “Daughter,” Yu said. “Call a council meeting immediately. Your betrothed wishes to request a favor of them.”

  Michelle looked taken aback. “It is midnight. By the time I got them together, it would be time for tomorrow’s regular council meeting.”

  “Are you—”

  “Of course not, Father. But I refuse to make a fool of myself organizing a meeting when one will already happen within hours. Nor should you. It was you yourself who taught me to save the fights for the important things. What is this matter which is of such great import?”

  “And if Admiral Galenos asked you to organize a council meeting, what would you say? Wait?”

  Michelle took a deep breath.

  Yu had no right to do this to anyone.

  Vega put a hand on Ean’s arm. Out of sight of Michelle’s comms. He hadn’t realized he’d opened his mouth to speak.

  “I would tell him the same thing.” Michelle took a deep breath. “I will ask that the Factor be allowed to address the council after the regular session. What does he wish to speak to them about?”

  “Why, the capture of the Iolo and the betrayal of Captain Jakob, of course.”

  “Very well,” Michelle said.

  After Michelle clicked off, she stared at her comms. “I don’t know how many more favors the council will grant us. We are fast running out of friends.”

  “Maybe the Factor should have requested it himself,” Vega said. “I hear he’s fast making them.”

  Ean thought of Admiral Trask, and his carefully worded warnings. Of how many of the admirals who’d spoken to Ean wanted the Worlds of the Lesser Gods on the New Alliance’s side. They could all see advantages having allies close to Redmond. They just didn’t like the way it was being done.

  Renaud Han called then.

  Lord Renaud had been on the vids often when Ean was a boy. This harried, anguished man looked nothing like the elegant lord Ean remembered from his childhood.

  “Lord Renaud,” Vega said. “I am from the Palace Guard. About your call earlier. Your son. What exactly is the problem?”

  They waited for the call to travel to Lancia and back.

  Vega didn’t give her name, but nineteen minutes later, when the call came back, Lord Renaud looked into the screen as if trying to see her properly. “Captain Vega.” His face cleared with relief. “We’ve met before. You were my son’s commanding officer on Baoshan.”

  “I was,” Vega agreed.

  “Only it’s Commodore now, of course. Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thank you,” Vega said.

  Neither of her answers would get back to Lancia for another nineteen minutes.

  “Lord Renaud,” Vega said. “I need to know what trouble your son is in and what we can do to fix it.”

  Ean dozed while he waited for the reply.

  “It’s difficult to explain over the comms,” Renaud said. Ean heard the hot spike of Vega’s impatience. “You see, Yves thinks he was on a job, and I’m concerned my comms are not secure enough.”

  “Is it bugged?” Vega asked Ean.

  “I can only tell about this end.”

  “Damn. I need answers, bugged or not. Can you make it secure, Ean?”

  Ean had no control on ships outside the sector. “No”

  “We’ll have to send him into the barracks to get it coded.” Vega looked back at the screen. “Lord Renaud. I need to know exactly what happened. I want you to go into the barracks. I’ll have someone ready for you. I want you to tell the whole story. They’ll record it, encode it, and send it to me. Tell everything, even things you don’t think necessary. Do you understand?”

  “We could jump the Lancastrian Princess back to Lancian space and pick him up,” Ean suggested, while they waited for the reply. “Then he could tell us face-to-face.”

  “A cold jump. I don’t want to be the one to send Helmo to an early grave.”

  The comms was open; they weren’t hiding any of the conversation from Renaud Han.

  Nineteen minutes later, the reply came back from Renaud. “I’d be happy to explain it in person. Relieved, actually, and I could talk to Commodore Bach while I’m there.”

  Vega’s annoyance flooded line one. “Lord Renaud, it will take two weeks to get a jump. If you’re lucky.”

  But Renaud was still talking from nineteen minutes ago. “I can be there tomorrow.”

  This time Vega did turn the comms off. “I don’t know what world he lives in, but it’s not reality.” She switched back on. “Lord Renaud. If you are unable to get a ship, please go back to our original plan. I will have someone from the barracks contact you.”

  She clicked off. “Some people don’t seem to realize there’s a war on.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  EAN LAMBERT

  MICHELLE CALLED IN multiple favors to get the Factor an audience after the day’s council meeting. Ean listened to the talk through Orsaya’s comms on his way to his own meeting.

  “At this rate, she won’t have any favors left to call in.” Orsaya’s voice was as sour as Vega’s as she and Ean walked down to the council room with the Yaolin captain, Auburn. “She’s definitely using up the goodwill of Aratoga and Balian on this.”

  Captain Auburn nodded.

  Ean wished Yu would hurry up and go home.

  Line training had been canceled that day, pending the investigation by the admirals. That wouldn’t happen until after the council meeting. One thing less to worry about, at least. For the moment, anyway.

  Abram had organized a precouncil meeting for him. A private session where no visitors were allowed, and the recorded discussion was not made available to the general public. Line business was for council ears only.

  Ean stepped up to the podium and w
iped his suddenly damp hands down the side of his uniform. He had spoken to each council member multiple times, individually and in groups, but today, he was nervous.

  “Members of the council, thank you for agreeing to hear me.” He looked around at the 140 council members. Michelle and Abram both smiled encouragingly. Ean took a deep breath. “Yesterday, Redmond tried to steal a fleet line ship.”

  He had their attention. He heard the sound of a glass being placed down after one of the councilors took a drink of water. If he’d been on a ship, he would have heard the gulp that went with it and tasted the water.

  He wanted to be on ship. He wanted to know what they were thinking.

  He had no idea.

  “They very nearly succeeded.”

  That caused a reaction: a murmur of noise that swelled, then died away.

  “They didn’t steal the ships.” One could always rely on Admiral Carrell, of Eridanus, to speak first.

  “No, they didn’t,” Ean agreed. “But it was close.” He spoke before Carrell could speak again. “Do you want to know why it was so close, Admiral Carrell?”

  “Well, of course I do. We all do.”

  This time the murmur was an assent.

  “Because Redmond brought linesmen,” Ean said. He raised his arm and pointed. He didn’t have to calculate a direction. He knew where the ships were. “Those ships out there are so desperate for linesmen, they’ll take anything they can get. Even enemy linesmen.”

  “We have supplied you with linesmen,” Carrell said. “Once they are trained, they will be put on those ships.”

  “I understand that. But the ships are sentient. They don’t understand the concept of time. They don’t understand why they have to wait. They want their linesmen now. And if we don’t start allocating them to various ships, the Confluence and its fleet will start to choose its own crew. From anywhere. Even the enemy. Give me a list of which world gets which ship, and I’ll introduce them to their linesmen.”

  “They’re line ships,” Carrell said. “We choose their crew. When we’re ready.”

  If Ean could convince Carrell, he could convince the rest of the council. “Alien ships are different from any ships we have known before, Admiral. We might have chosen crew for the human line ships, but the alien ships have minds of their own.”