“Did they get everything they needed?”
“No,” she replied. “The Lieutenant managed to stop them, locked out the data, and deleted all the recent files. She didn’t want them to get the co-ordinates of the nearby star systems; they haven’t discovered their locations yet. Just their home star.”
With a thin smile, Logan said, “I was wondering who’d wiped the records so damn well. I should have guessed that it was the users. At some point you made a break for it, then.”
“There was another attack, a bad one, and we volunteered to help out. After the first wave of fighting, we broke for the hendecaspace point, but a group of alien ships came after us, and then Haven tried to hack us with the computer components we’d given them. I think they were just trying to disable us.” She gasped, wiping the tears from her face, and said, “We were hit twice, superficial damage, and our systems were failing. The order was given to abandon ship.”
“Most of the escape pods were taken by the enemy,” Gaxric said. “Hers came down in the middle of the Boreal Swamp. My men got to her before the Council troops could arrive.” He grinned, and said, “Quite a few of them are on my side.”
“The others?”
“Five of them stayed on the Dumont and completed the jump to Spitfire Station.” Placing a hand on her shoulder, he continued, “The Cabal database is on its way home, in the hands of the President right now. It was worth it, Private. Don’t doubt that.”
“We haven’t had any opportunity to contact you until now,” Gaxric said after a brief silence. “My people are positioned to help you get away as soon as you give the word. I have men stationed in key locations to assist your assault.”
“My assault?” Logan asked.
“Presumably you intend to overthrow the government.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “I’m not going to do a damn thing until we get the Private back up to Alamo and can come up with a proper plan. I’m not even in command down here.”
“But you have your men in the Council Chamber…”
“Surrounded by troops and guards, in the middle of a city.” He frowned, then said, “Tell me what you actually want, and be honest about it, for God’s sake. Do you want to end the war, or conquer the planet.”
“End the war.”
“Then we’re on the same side, and I think we might be of help to each other.” He pulled out a disposable communicator and passed it to him, “We’ll keep in contact with this. Make sure that it doesn’t fall into anyone else’s hands. See the red button on the bottom?”
“Yes.”
“Tap that if you want to make a small, amusing explosion. Got that?”
“Understood,” he said. “You will help us?”
“I just want to go home,” Moore said, tears flowing freely now. “All I want is to get home.”
“I promise you, Private, I’ll get you home,” Logan said. “Two weeks from now you’ll be collecting your discharge papers at Mariner Station. You have my word on that.”
She looked up, nodded, and said, “I feel such a damn fool.”
“You aren’t alone in that today, Private. Gaxric, I can’t promise you anything, but we’re going to do what we can to bring this war to an end.”
Nodding, he said, “I thought I might not be able to push you to a commitment right now, but I have a feeling that once you’ve seen the situation more fully, you’ll come down on my side. Tell your commander that we are ready to move when he gives the signal, and that he can count on us. We’ve been at war too long, and even if we get a peace, we don’t want to stay under the control of the Council.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a Triplanetary data chip, gently passing it to Logan. “A full outline of the situation on the planet, including some history that I suspect they won’t tell you anything about.”
“Thanks. Listen out on that communicator, and if you hear anything else, call us up immediately. That can’t be intercepted by anyone on the ground, especially if you talk in English.”
“Will do.”
Cooper walked back into the room, preceded by one of the burly men from the corridor, a uniform draped over his arm. Stuffing the datachip into a hidden pocket, Logan waved him over.
“Get her in that uniform. Can you get rid of this Martian uniform for us?”
“No one will ever find it,” Gaxric said.
“Good.” Moore went over to a corner and started unbuttoning her top, her fingers fumbling with the catches, trying to slide on the unfamiliar Espatier dress uniform.
“What’s the story outside?”
“Lomax is down in the truck waiting for us. I didn’t have a chance to talk to Captain Marshall, but Captain Cunningham said that the meeting was almost over. Forrest will be escorting them down shortly.”
“Right,” Logan said. “We need to be down into the trucks by then. How’re you doing, Private?”
“Getting there,” she replied. “It isn’t a very good fit.”
“Best I could do,” Cooper said. “Hopefully no-one will notice anyway. Do you want a pistol?”
“No,” she said. “I’d be too tempted to use it.”
Nodding, Cooper stuffed the extra pistol deep into a pocket, and turned to Logan, “What’s the plan?”
“We head out of here and get back to the truck.”
“No complicated cloak-and-dagger stuff?”
“I usually prefer to keep things as simple as possible. Tends to be less likely to get people killed that way.” He looked at his watch, and said, “Hurry up, Private.”
“I’m trying,” she said, struggling on the trousers and working the clip. “I think I’ve got it.”
“Check her, Cooper,” Logan replied. “Thank you for your help, Gaxric, on behalf of myself and the Triplanetary Fleet.”
“Just reciprocate, Captain,” he said. “That’s all you need to do. The guide will take you back to the main corridor, and you can make your own way from there.”
“She’s ready,” Cooper said, moving over.
“Then let’s move out. Nice and quiet.”
Logan gestured Cooper to take the lead, the guide staying at discrete distance from them, with Moore in the middle and he taking up the rear. He turned after a second, and saw that Gaxric had managed to get away without him noticing; an excellent demonstration of competence.
As they walked, he paid additional attention to the state of the security systems. Primitive, but effective – cameras on every corridor, link-ups by cable to some sort of central control. Whether by design or by accident, it would be difficult to hack into the network, even if they were familiar with the systems involved. There were plenty of uniformed figures around, and a few side glances from otherwise nondescript passers-by suggested that there were just as many people not wearing uniform monitoring the crowd. Very quietly, this was a rather nasty little police state.
He kept the rest of his attention on Moore. She looked bolt forward, trying not to draw any attention from the crowd, but her uniform still stood out. A few of the secret policemen were obviously noting their progress, and one of them was surreptitiously speaking into a microphone.
They turned down a corridor, the guide disappearing into the crowd, and were back in the main area. A group of uniformed figures were beginning to congregate by the airlock exit, and Logan quickened his pace, urging them on, gambling that he could get past them before the order could be given to stop and question them. His hand fumbled down for the gun in his pocket, ready to shoot his way out if necessary.
Then, behind him, he heard a familiar voice, and turned to see Captain Marshall and the Espatier guard walking down the corridor, Sergeant Forrest keeping the men in a formal march. That put the odds far more in their favor, and whatever their orders had been, the figures decided to let them through. Logan breathed a sigh of relief as he fitted his respirator in the airlock, Mar
shall looking from him to Moore quizzically.
“I’ve picked up an old friend,” Logan said. “I think you and Lieutenant Orlova are going to want to have a nice long talk with her.”
Marshall’s eyes widened as he picked up the hint, and the airlock doors slowly slid open, revealing the waiting trucks below. With a last look back, Moore sped down the steps, the others struggling to keep up, and jumped into the rear of the van, settling down by the surprised Lomax.
“I take it your little side trip went well, then,” Cunningham said.
“Once we get back onto the shuttle,” Logan replied, “I’ll agree with you.”
Chapter 15
“This had better be important, Harper,” Orlova said as she walked into the security office. “We’ve got a briefing in ten minutes, and from the way the Captain sounded, I think it’s going to be a big one.”
“You should know me well enough by now, Maggie,” the green-haired hacker replied. “I’ve been looking at the implant…”
“You’ve found out how it works?” Orlova’s eyes widened, and she said. “Good God, how the hell did you pull that off? No-one’s managed to get reliable…”
“No, no,” she said, interrupting. “Do I look like a neuro-physicist? I might not have the first damned idea about how it works in practice, but I did manage to work out where it is supposed to be implanted. How you link it up, that’s something else.”
“Damn,” Orlova replied, then said. “Harper, that’s great, but it isn’t really that urgent, is it? Write it up for the Captain.”
“Maggie,” Harper said. “I said that I worked out where the device is meant to be implanted. In the human brain. I thought these were weird alien monsters we were supposed to be up against.”
Orlova froze for a second in the door, then turned back to the hacker, and said, “Are you sure about this?”
Harper shrugged, and said, “I don’t know a damn thing about xenobiology, Maggie, but I do know that aliens are supposed to be aliens. Unless their brains work the same way ours do, right down to the finest detail, these gadgets are supposed to be implanted into humans. Those bastards down on the surface are pulling a fast one on us.”
“I’ll add it to the list,” she replied. “You just don’t like them because they won’t share their toys with you.”
“I thought we were supposed to be allies. They’re certainly messing about with enough of our kit.” She tossed across a datapad, and said, “Someone’s been playing around with Cabal communications equipment, stopped dead as soon as they realized who we were.”
“From what Private Moore said, they did a pretty good job of stripping stuff out of the Dumont. I’d better get this to...hell, you might as well tag along. Just don’t say anything unless spoken too, but you might as well be the one to brief the Captain.”
“I’ve got work to do,” Harper protested.
“Yes, and I’ve just told you what it is. Come on.”
She turned back to the corridor, and after a brief hesitation, Harper followed, the pair of them walking into the nearest elevator. Orlova tapped the control, and it began to speed along the decks towards the briefing room. She glanced down at her watch; with a little luck, she wouldn’t be late.
“What’s it like to be back home?” she asked Harper.
“Home?” she replied. “Strange. I kinda got used to being my own boss back on Spitfire.”
“Captain Winter’s been letting you operate freely?”
With a smile, she said, “Let’s just say that he’s quite happy to share his nice new toys around for me to have fun with, and leave it at that. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m damn glad you made it back. Think Marshall will want me back on board?”
“Probably, if we can suck you loose from whatever intelligence cesspool you’ve managed to get stuck into. Looks like you’ve managed to get into a position where you can choose, though.”
She shrugged, and said, “I’ll see who gives me the best offer. I like my independence.”
“Haven’t changed a bit, have you.”
“Neither have you.”
Orlova glared at Harper, and said, “I’m glad it doesn’t show, Spaceman, but I wouldn’t wish my last year on anyone. Not even you.”
Harper’s face reddened, and she replied, “Hey, sorry if I said something wrong.”
Shaking her head, Orlova said, “No, my fault. I shouldn’t have bit your head off.”
“I read your logs, by the way,” she said. “It sounds like you had a quite a ride.”
“That’s one way of putting it. I won't bother to ask how you got past my security access.”
The doors opened, and they stepped out into the corridor; Marshall frowned as he saw Harper walk in, taking a seat by the wall, and Orlova headed over to him.
“She’s made some interesting breakthroughs on the implant we borrowed.”
“Borrowed?”
“I thought it would make more sense for her to brief the staff in person.”
Quinn stepped in, taking his seat, and said, “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re the last, Mr. Quinn,” Marshall replied. “I think we can get started now. First of all, Lieutenant Caine, tactical report on the incoming fleet.”
Tapping a control on the desk to bring up the holodisplay, she said, “This is the big one, sir. Two hundred and forty-two ships, all on an intercept course to bring them into an attack on Guardian Station in three days.” She hit another control, and a bright light appeared off to one side. “Note that they have left one of the hendecaspace points clear.”
“A trap?” Zebrova said.
“Or a way for us to get out of the system, but I would agree that trusting them is not a good idea. We could easily get to one of the other egress points in the system, and I don’t think we would face any opposition in so doing.”
“The big question,” Cunningham said. “Can we take them?”
“With the support of Haven’s fleet, certainly. Incidentally, Captain, without our help, Guardian Station is all but certain to fall. I don’t see any other way for them to win this fight.”
“So if we don’t provide them with help, the war ends in three days.”
“That is my assessment,” Caine replied, and Ryder nodded in affirmation.
“Captain Winter, I think it is your turn next.”
Nodding, Logan rose, looking around the room, “During our trip to the surface, I made contact with the local resistance network. It turns out that neither the war or the government enjoy the full support of the local population, something I suppose that shouldn’t have surprised any of us. We rescued one of the crew from the Dumont, and her debriefing is available to you all.”
“Just because there is a resistance network, doesn’t mean…,” Zebrova began.
“Among other things, the local government has initiated pogroms against the cult we are relying upon as translators, purged anyone who they thought of as being against the war, even when it came down simply to arguments against their non-combat decisions, and has imposed a full-scale surveillance state on the local population. Nor is there any sign that they will give up any of this peacefully.”
“Basically,” he said after a pause, “there are three power groups that mean a damn down there – a cult that worships Holy Terra, the government, and the rebels, and I’m not sure I trust any of them. Having said that, the rebels did keep Private Moore safe, though my instincts are that it was more as a bargaining chip than out of altruism.”
“They did help the Dumont escape,” Caine said. “That should count for something.”
“Still, they are expecting us to overthrow the government and put them in their stead.”
“Are you going to do that?” Colonel Singh asked from the corner of the room in his quiet voice.
“We aren’t in the business of regime change
for our own benefit,” Marshall said. “Even if I think that those bastards down below are contemptible. They made an attempt to capture us on the planet, and tried to draw us into a full-scale battle.” He smiled, then said, “Hell, I'm making a case for this, aren't I.”
With a sigh, Logan said, “I don’t condone their actions, but they are desperate. They’re all set to lose this war, and their lives to boot, and we must consider that. Also – they didn’t actually attack the Dumont. From what I can determine, their goal was to force them to remain in the system, not to destroy them or kill the crew.”
“And if Private Moore had fallen in their hands?” Orlova asked.
“Then I suspect she would have been used as a bargaining chip.”
“There’s nothing to choose between the two sides, sir,” Orlova said. “Not that I can see.”
“Something else we need to consider,” Race said. “They’re experimenting with hendecaspace technology. I’ve picked up a couple of points of dimensional instability, laboratory-scale at the moment.”
Looking at Quinn, Marshall asked, “Can they build the hendecaspace drive, Lieutenant?”
“I don’t see why not,” he replied. “They’ve got the underlying technical basis, and had a good chance to study a working model. Most of the ships they have could be modified to accommodate a drive unit.” Nodding, he said, “Within a year, I’d guess. Maybe sooner.”
“Which means the aliens will likely capture that technology,” Cunningham said. “Damn.”
“There’s more,” Quinn said. “I looked over the information from Spitfire Station, and I think they’ve stumbled across something we’ve been trying for years – to come out of hendecaspace away from the egress point.”
“I thought that was impossible,” Marshall said.
“Technically, they’re using some of their hendecaspace velocity…,” Quinn shook his head, and said, “the theory is over my head, sir, but they’ve done it. Uncontrolled, but that’s something I want to take a look at.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Ghost Ship Page 15