Mariko nodded, slowly. “So,” she said, “what are we going to do?”
“If we get there before the Secessionist fleet, we will warn Prather and the Admiral – and use priority codes to summon reinforcements from the Imperial Navy,” Fitz said. “And if not...”
He shook his head. “We will have to improvise.”
Bruce Wayne crossed the phase limit, picking up speed all the time. “Take us into phase space,” Fitz ordered, “and push the drives as hard as you can. They should endure long enough to get us to Ming.”
Mariko nodded, watching the power levels rise slowly, but surely. Overloading a phase drive eventually led to it burning out, standing a starship in interstellar space if it happened at the wrong time. Fitz was confident in his ship, but Mariko wasn't so sure.
Yet he was right. If they reached Sumter before suffering a catastrophic drive failure, it would be worth the expense of rebuilding the ship’s drive from scratch.
“Here we go,” she said. She glanced at the timer and scowled. “Thirty-seven hours to Ming, assuming the drive manages to bear up under the strain. Interstellar Couriers would be proud of us.”
“So would the Imperial Navy,” Fitz observed. “Once we reach Sumter, we will assume Clark Kent mode instead of Wally West. Assuming we get there first, of course.”
He shook his head again. “There’s no point in speculating now,” he added. “Make sure you get some sleep and...”
“You’re always telling us to sleep,” Mariko said, dryly. “Or do you have something else in mind?”
“Better to sleep when you have the chance,” Fitz said. “You might not be able to sleep when you need it.”
Mariko smiled. “Military wisdom?”
“Something like that,” Fitz said. He held out a hand. “But something else would be good, too.”
***
Mariko lay on Fitz’s bed, looking up at the darkness of phase space. It would be romantic if the stars were blazing down, she told herself, and then nearly burst out laughing. How could she worry about romance at a time like this?
They were on their way to what might very well be a suicide mission. Lady Mary wouldn't let the grass grow under her feet. As soon as she had her fleet ready, she would move against Sumter and take the wormhole junction by force, perhaps with the help of the Snakes. And then where would they be?
“You’re good,” she whispered. It was true; Fitz was the best lover she’d had. “Thank you.”
“I learned it in school,” Fitz said, with a wink. “The spies academy taught me how to hit the G-spot every time.”
Mariko gaped at him and then burst out laughing. “That...that is absurd!”
“Why?” Fitz asked, seriously. “You honestly think that Richardson is the only person who got into a compromising position because of his lusts?”
Mariko shrugged. The thought had never occurred to her, and she said so.
“You’d be amazed at how many security headaches have started with someone being a little indiscreet,” Fitz informed her. “Get a lusty young man into a bugged bedroom, give him a night to remember with a hot blonde right out of Central Casting – and then hit him with the pictures and a threat to inform everyone if he doesn't cooperate.”
He grinned. “Or someone can be tricked into thinking that the hot little honey on their arm is actually in love with them. It’s astonishing what people will say if they are very subtly interrogated after having sex.”
“You just like being disconcerting,” Mariko said. She grinned, mischievously. “Two people can play at that game. When are we getting married?”
Fitz looked alarmed, just for a second. “You do realise that being married to me isn’t going to be particularly safe?” he asked. “Even if Lady Mary is killed before she can blow my cover throughout the entire Imperium, there will always be a chance that someone else will figure out the secret and target my wife in revenge.”
He hesitated. “On the other hand, if I marry you, I probably won’t become my father’s Heir,” he said, thoughtfully. “That sounds wonderful. Marry me!”
They shared a laugh.
“More seriously, people do get pushed together when risking their lives,” he added. “If you can still stand the sight of me a year from now, ask me then and we will see.”
Mariko nodded as one of his hands reached up to play with her breasts, and then let out a throaty sigh as his other hand moved between her legs. “You’re still horny?” she asked. “How long can you go on for?”
“Ah, the joys of augmentation,” Fitz said. “Would you be surprised to hear that a boosted penis is everyone’s favourite present once they mature enough that they can take it?”
“Not at all,” Mariko said. Such modifications were not common on Edo, but she could easily see the rich slipping off to a different world with more liberal laws to have it done. “How easy is it to have it done?”
“If you’re old enough, very easy,” Fitz informed her. “But there are some black clinics, too, that cater for those too young to have it done properly. Sometimes it works; sometimes it leads to disaster and they have to have their penises repaired by proper doctors. You’d think that people would listen when qualified doctors try to tell them that they can’t have their penises boosted until they’re older.”
“Idiocy is the essence of the male mind,” Mariko said archly, and then gasped as one of his fingers found a sensitive spot. “And...”
Fitz rolled over and mounted her...and, for a long while, neither of them spoke again.
An hour later, Fitz stood up and walked across to one of his sealed cabinets. “I’d like you to have something,” he said. He opened the cabinet with his thumbprint and removed a small box, barely large enough to hold a wedding ring comfortably. It opened, revealing a tiny golden cross on a long chain. “This is something that was given to me by my superiors.”
Mariko picked it up and looked at it. It was tiny, yet there was something about it that was nagging at her mind. It felt familiar, even though she’d never seen it before in her life. She turned it over and over again, until it finally clicked. The long part of the cross was a datachip, covered in a very light sheath of gold. She could have slipped it into any reader and accessed the data stored on the chip without needing to remove the gold first.
“Actually, you would need the right codes to access what’s stored on the chip,” Fitz said, “and if you tried to unlock it without the right codes the chip would vaporise, ruining your reader in the process.”
He took it from her hand and placed it around her neck, allowing it to dangle between her breasts. “There are those of us who are fighting the decline of the Imperium,” he said, softly. “We believe that we can gradually push the Imperium into reforming while standing off the threats that threaten to tear it apart, threats like the Secessionists or the Snakes or one of a hundred thousand different problems that appear out of nowhere because we don’t have the resources to nip them in the bud. It isn't easy, but we’re doing our best.”
Mariko touched the cross with her hand as he looked at her. “The golden cross is our symbol,” he said. “It is modified to allow us to share data without compromising our identities. Should I not survive this mission...”
“You will,” Mariko said, sharply.
“Should I not survive this mission,” Fitz continued, remorselessly, “please take it to Baron Yu, the Director of Imperial Intelligence. The ID cards I gave you will get you into his office; give him the cross, report on everything that happened since I met you, and then see what he says about the future. Can you do that for me?”
Mariko stared at him. Fitz had saved them from a fate worse than death, even if he had been doing it to maintain his cover. And then he’d treated them decently, before revealing his true nature and asking – asking – for help. He was a decent person and Mariko – she would admit it to herself, if only in the privacy of her own mind – had fallen in love with him. Not the aristocratic fop he pretended to be, but the
real man under the mask. And now she had to think about the prospect of him dying...
“I will,” she said, finally. “But you’re not going to throw your life away, do you understand me?”
Fitz chuckled. “Think about how many lives will be ruined if the wormholes fail,” he said. “It makes the old Good of the Majority equation far too easy to solve.”
***
“So,” Mai asked, “when’s the wedding?”
Mariko blinked in surprise. She’d showered with Fitz – showering with a man was strange and fun at the same time – before heading back to her own cabin to pick up a new shipsuit and some equipment. It hadn't been until Mai had tapped on the door that she’d realised that she’d donned sexy underwear instinctively, wondering what Fitz would make of her dressed like that. But Mai had had a crush on him...
“Wedding?” she repeated, trying to sound dumb. “What wedding?”
Her sister gave her a pitying stare. “I may not be quite as old as you, but I can read the subtle signs,” Mai said. “I mean...you’re positively glowing. And you’re wearing some of the underwear I picked back on Dorado. And you and Fitz have been almost embarrassed around each other while I’ve been with you.”
She paused. “Was it good? Is he going to marry you? Will you be his super-spy wife...?”
Mariko flushed. She would almost have preferred Mai being upset. It was hard not to sing and shout; she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and realised what Mai meant. She did look better.
“Yes, we’ve become lovers,” she confirmed, tiredly. “And I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future.”
“Mother will want you to marry him, of course,” Mai said, dryly.
Mariko’s flush grew deeper.
“And I’m sure that father would be interested in all the contacts he could make with people very high up in the Imperium, just because his daughter married into one of the Grand Senate families. All of their dreams for a dynasty would mean nothing, compared to the opportunities Fitz could offer them.”
Mariko stared at her sister, unsure what to say. Their father had intended to use his daughters as pawns, although not, thankfully, as tradition from Ancient Japan would have dictated. He had given them an education and he had given them some responsibilities – and perhaps he would have given them more, if they had stayed on Edo instead of heading out across the Imperium. But he had intended to choose their partners, linking his family to others with industrial or shipbuilding concerns he could use to build his empire.
Mariko had resented it terribly. In truth, part of her had seriously intended never to return to Edo. The Happy Wanderer had been freedom, or at least it had been freedom before Carlos and his family had confiscated her and thrown the sisters in jail.
“I don’t want to marry for father’s contracts,” she said, finally. “I want to marry for love.”
“So you can do both,” Mai pointed out, snidely. “And I am sure that those elderly men mother was trying to set up with you will be so disappointed when Fitz puts a ring on your finger.”
Mariko glared at her sister. “Mai, shut up or...”
Mai laughed. “Or what?” She demanded. “I’m too old for you to spank any longer. And besides, you’re the one who started experimenting with boys first.”
Mai was right. She had sinned – or at least her mother would definitely see it that way. And yet part of her found it hard to care.
“I was young and foolish,” Mariko said, finally. “And now...”
“And now you’ve grown up,” Mai said. “I watched you cut Carlos’s throat. You didn't even bat an eyelid as he bled to death.”
Mariko remembered, even though she’d tried to push that memory down into the back of her mind. But she also remembered what Carlos had done to them. He was too dangerous to leave alive, even if he could never threaten them again. God alone knew how many other victims he'd had over the years.
“I know,” she said. “I know...”
And yet part of her was horrified by what she’d become.
Mai reached out and took her hand. “I think that you and Fitz make a very good couple,” she said, after a moment. “And if you get married, I want to be your Maid of Honour...”
Mariko started to laugh. “If we get married, I’m sure there will be a place for you there,” Mariko assured her. “But we have to survive the next few days first.”
The intercom buzzed before she could say anything else. “Girls, we’re approaching the Ming System,” Fitz said. “I suggest that you get into your shipsuits and then get up to the bridge. We have work to do.”
***
There was little notable about the Ming System, save only its wormhole gate orbiting a safe distance from the colonised planet. Settled for fifty years, Ming had required minimal adjustment before becoming habitable and currently boasted a population of upwards of fifty-seven thousand humans and an unknown number of aliens. There was surprisingly little activity in the system’s asteroid belts, but as they returned to normal space sensors picked up no less than three mining platforms orbiting the gas giant. Ming’s reputation as an interstellar fuel dump was clearly very important to the system’s growing economy.
“I’m picking up a data dump from the wormhole station,” Mai said, as they raced towards the giant ring. Normally, there would be an entire line of freighters and other starships waiting to make transit. Now, there were only a handful of ships, all gunboats, orbiting the gate. “They’re warning that there is a military emergency underway in the Sumter System and all gate transits have been cancelled until further notice.”
“We’re too late,” Mariko breathed.
“Maybe,” Fitz said. He took one of the consoles and began tapping in commands, using his priority codes to unlock the encrypted Imperial Navy signals being relayed through the gate to the gunboats. “The wormholes are still active; they’re just holding back traffic because the system is under attack. One moment.”
He spoke rapidly into the communications system. “They’ve agreed to open up a wormhole for us,” he said, after five minutes of arguing. The links are still working, thank God. Without that we’d be in real trouble...”
Mariko nodded as the wormhole station sent them an updated transit pass. The wormhole was already spinning open in front of them, ready to jump them right to the Sumter System – and right into the middle of a shooting war.
“All weapons and defences online,” Fitz said. As an augment, he could control them with more precision than either of the girls. “Take us into the fire.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Report,” Fitz snapped, as they burst out of the wormhole. “What’s going on out there?”
Mariko concentrated on flying the ship as Mai studied the live feed from the sensors. “I’m not sure,” she admitted, finally. “There’s a battle going on, but it’s hard to tell the difference between the two sides.”
“Shift a tactical analysis program into active mode and let it run through the combat patterns,” Fitz said. He hesitated. “I don’t understand. Imperial Navy starships should be broadcasting IFF signals, at the very least.”
“Unless the other ships were also broadcasting Imperial Navy IFF signals,” Mai pointed out, slowly. “The ships Richardson helped to disappear were all Imperial Navy designs. If they all look like they belong to the Imperial Navy, and have the right IFF codes, who would be able to tell the difference?”
“A decent Admiral would know which ships were under his command,” Fitz said, bitterly. “But no; they send out Admirals who are too dumb to turn into a threat along the Rim – and that makes them too dumb to deal with a clear and present danger to their command.”
Mariko barely heard him. Three gunboats were arcing towards them, locking weapons on the Bruce Wayne. They were clearly of Imperial Navy design, but who was flying them? And then it occurred to her that there was another problem. Those gunboats could be controlled by Imperial Navy loyalists under the impression that the Br
uce Wayne was a Secessionist ship. They might be blown out of space by friendly forces.
“The tactical program has identified two sides and a handful of ships that could belong to either,” Mai said, finally. “I’m assuming that the Haverford remains the Admiral’s command ship, so his forces are the blue guys.”
Fitz swore out loud. “They’re outnumbered,” he said, bitterly. “What was he thinking when he sent away half of his command?”
Mariko flipped the ship around to evade the gunboats as they closed in for the kill. “These guys are going to try to kill us unless we can talk them out of it,” she snapped. “Which side are they on?”
On The Imperium’s Secret Service (Imperium Cicernus) Page 36