SIXTEEN
VIVIA SAT IN her office on the top floor of the Confederation Tower and looked out on to the Encircling Ridge with contentment. It was a beautiful day for early winter, made even brighter with warm sunshine reflecting off the accumulated ice and snow. She looked out on to the other skyscrapers in the Lower Wards, feeling her usual sense of gratification that she could look down on all of them.
She was smiling as she looked at a flash encrypted message forwarded by one of her traders in Chenak. It was from Duke Hilson. It was couched in formal terms, but it was clear that the good duke was begging for more dynamite. His troops were bogged down in the outer town of Aurora and could not breach the walls of the inner town, known as Sunward. They feared a retaliatory airstrike from the Zon any day. She also had independent information from her agents that Cheval Kantus Hilson was running low on supplies and had very little in the way of reserve forces.
She heard a gentle musical ping, indicating an incoming secure comm channel. She looked at her communicator—commoners were not allowed wrist bracers—and noted with satisfaction that it was Princess Andromache. The video showed her seated in her office in the Great Temple. She was dressed in her official robes and was formally coiffed and attended by her handmaiden.
“Princess Andromache!” said Vivia, affecting surprise and happiness. “What a pleasant surprise. How can I be of service?”
“Vivia, as you know, the Sisterhood faces its gravest danger since the days of Queen Simran,” began Andromache. “The Military High Command has called up all reserve units and is asking for volunteers from amongst the commoners to take up support duties on the home front. We are rationing power to make sure we can charge as many batteries as necessary for military operations.”
“Yes, I am aware of all the official announcements,” said Vivia carefully.
“Vivia, I will be frank,” continued Andromache. “Your enterprises are the largest suppliers to the military. We are deploying airboat squadrons to all our Residencies, and this has stripped bare the air defenses of the Great Vale. We need your factories to deliver four new airboat squadrons immediately.”
Vivia did not answer immediately, but she put on a look of deep concern while she thought it over.
“Princess Andromache, as you know, I am one of the most patriotic members of the Sisterhood. If the decision were up to me, I would donate my entire fortune in an instant to fight the barbarian menace. But I must conform to the tenets of the Trading Guild, or my fellow Guild Mistresses will expel me!”
Her inability to sacrifice everything to the cause of the Sisterhood caused her eyes to mist over. She paused and drew a delicate and extremely expensive kerchief of East Brosian musk-lace from her bodice and dabbed her eyes. In a firmer, businesslike voice, she continued.
“We have four Mark VIIs—a full squadron—on the stocks at the moment; I could deliver them to the military procuress this week for test flights. These boats are powered by the high-performance engines that the military High Command ordered and have cost us significantly more than expected to complete. I assume that your office will issue us government bonds to the full value of our costs?”
Vivia knew that Andromache was seething inside. In spite of herself she was impressed at the High Priestess’s self-control. Andromache’s face remained serene.
“Of course,” she said. “The Zon administration will pay all debts incurred in full. What of the other three squadrons that we require?”
“If the High Priestess will give us a formal order, we will work around the clock to deliver at the earliest. Of course, this will mean paying overtime and increasing our workforce, all of which will drive up costs. I assume that the government will allow us to break even.”
“Of course,” said Andromache. “Our inspectors will audit your expenses in the usual manner. How soon can we expect delivery of these new units?”
Vivia knew that Andromache would get her auditors to question every copper and made a mental note to speak with her accountants. She paused again, making rapid calculations in her head.
“We should be able to begin delivering one unit a day starting in about ten days,” she said finally. “We should be able to complete the order in three weeks.”
“Very well. I will process the bonds as soon as I have your invoice,” said Andromache, cutting the channel.
Vivia sat back and exhaled, her face lighting up into a gleeful smile. These orders would add over a hundred thousand gold talents to her already enormous fortune. She opened a comm channel and summoned Yukia Rabbina from her office on the other side of the floor and suggested that they meet on the viewdeck, out of any potential eavesdropping links to the comm.
By the time Vivia emerged from the antigravity shaft onto the viewdeck, Yukia was already there, her golden hair loose and blowing in the breeze. She curtsied as low to Vivia as she would to a senior electra. She knew that Vivia liked being treated as a great lady and played along. She was well rewarded for her pains.
“What news do you have from your LOS staff on the ground in Aurora?” asked Vivia quickly.
“Cheval Kantus Hilson made the initial breach in the outer walls quite effectively, but he has made almost no progress since yesterday,” said Yukia cautiously. “His stocks of dynamite are running very low, and he is not sure he can breach the walls of Sunward.”
“Has he taken the Docks district?” asked Vivia, leaning forward.
“No, High Mistress,” said Yukia warily.
“In the name of Ma, from which side did he launch his initial assault?” Vivia sounded impatient now.
“From the landward side, High Mistress.” Yukia answered the question and no more.
Vivia clapped her hands in frustration.
“Yukia, neither you nor I is a military commander, schooled in strategy. Yet, tell me, when attacking a port city, whose seaward aspect is frozen over, which side would you attack?”
Yukia did not hesitate.
“The seaward side, High Mistress. The landward side is vulnerable all year-round, while the seaward side is only vulnerable in winter. Logically, the defenses on the seaward side are likely to be slightly weaker against a land army.”
“Yukia, you see what comes of trusting even the smallest thing to the stupid barbarians! I expected a military man like Cheval Kantus to display at least as much common sense as two poor women such as ourselves, attack the seaward side, and be in command of the docks. If Princess Deirdre gets to the docks before him, she will see that of all the factories and warehouses, only ours are empty. If that happens, we are doomed!”
Yukia looked truly frightened now, very different from her cool persona on LOS. She wrung her hands.
“High Mistress, what will we do? Princess Deirdre hates us. This is wartime, so she can use a military tribunal and get a decision in hours! We will both be shot for treason!”
“Calm down, Yukia. Duke Hilson is begging me for more dynamite. I will sell him some, but at a higher price than before and this time with conditions. I will not trust the idiot to do the obvious thing. He must order Cheval Kantus to use his reserves to attack the seaward side of Aurora and take the Docks district, no matter how heavy his losses. He must burn all the factories and warehouses to the ground. I will initiate contact immediately.”
Yukia looked vastly relieved but still did not smile.
“High Mistress, you think of everything,” she said.
DIANA UNSNAPPED HER seat harness in the airboat and said to the pilot, “Make sure my horse is seen to,” before striding down the ramp onto the hangar deck of the Thetis. She took the antigravity shaft down several decks to the heart of the airship and then walked almost the length of the ship to the bridge. As usual, it was a hive of activity, with the duty crew hard at work. Hebe Nevisina sat in the command chair, talking to her executive officer. She looked up as Diana approached. Her exec stood aside respectfully and saluted Diana, hand on heart. Diana returned the salute casually.
“Cornelle
Diana, we have been expecting you,” said Hebe without preamble. She took in Diana’s muddy and bloodstained uniform, the ashes in her hair, and the dark flash marks on her ’grator barrel before continuing. “Let me have my handmaiden see you to the command stateroom so you can be bathed and anointed.”
“Thank you, Captain Hebe,” said Diana evenly. “I understand you have Centuria Ling Mae aboard?”
“Yes, Cornelle,” said Hebe.
“Have her and one of the squads retrieved from Ostracis equipped and ready for action on the hangar deck. Have a Mark VII charged up. I’d like Officia Brendel to serve as my copilot.”
“Centuria Ling Mae, Officia Brendel, and all those recovered from the disaster at Ostracis are undergoing therapy, Cornelle,” said Hebe coolly. “They are still in shock. We cannot return them to action. We can discuss using another of my squads from Thetis—”
“I don’t want airship huntresses, Captain Hebe,” interrupted Diana impatiently. “I want cavalry huntresses with experience of ground combat. Those huntresses fought their way out of Ostracis—they are the best and most experienced you have on board. I am going into Nordberg to arrest King Shobar and his henchmen. They are not going to come without a fight. Therapy can wait. In my opinion, it is overrated anyway.”
“Cornelle, you are asking me to flout the manual,” said Hebe, carefully formal and asserting her equality of rank with Diana. “I am afraid I cannot authorize this.”
“I will take your leave,” said Diana, equally frosty. “And thank you for your hospitality and the kind offer of your handmaiden. Please open a comm channel to Princess Deirdre while I am getting ready. She will endorse my orders.”
Hebe signaled, and her handmaiden appeared soundlessly. She was a young huntress, with an angelic heart-shaped face and wavy, golden hair. She was tall but slim.
“Please follow me, Cornelle,” she said nervously.
This is the type of namby-pamby squad Hebe wants me to take into battle, thought Diana, following her out.
Hebe was furious. But she went through a quick meditative exercise to calm herself before she asked her exec to open a comm channel to Princess Deirdre.
The video was very crisp, and Deirdre appeared on the holographic platform almost at once. She was on the controller’s seat in the situation room in military headquarters in Atlantic City. She was smiling, but she did not look like she had an overabundance of patience. Hebe got right to the point.
“Cornelle Diana is aboard. She wishes to take a squad extricated from Ostracis on an offensive mission into Nordberg. These units are in therapy, and it will be weeks before they are ready for action. I hope the First Principal will support me in enforcing the combat manual.”
Deirdre smiled and spoke pleasantly, but her blue eyes were not warm.
“Captain Hebe, you are right, and in normal times, I would support you wholeheartedly. However, these are not normal times. We are facing a two-front war, with serious situations in both Utrea and Briga. I have asked Cornelle Diana to take command in the Utrean theatre, and it is not my practice to second-guess my field commanders. I must ask that you defer to her decisions.”
Hebe looked disappointed, but she placed her hand on her heart in salute and said, “I hear and obey, First Principal.”
She was not pleased to be placed under Diana’s command. It was true that Diana had a year’s seniority on her, but it still grated. She had known Diana since their Academy days. They had logged many airboat sorties together, but they were temperamentally very different. Diana is too aggressive, she takes wild and crazy chances, I don’t want Brendel to have anything to do with her, she thought. Her mind worked feverishly to find a way to keep Brendel aboard and out of Diana’s highly risky operation. She was sure that Brendel, young and eager as she was, would be keen to go, but she had to try.
She gave the conn to her executive officer, left the bridge to return to the captain’s cabin, and sent for Brendel. Her daughter entered, and Hebe asked her to sit down and take some katsch. Brendel demurred.
“What’s up, Mother?” she asked. “You looked worried.”
“Brendel, I will not beat around the bush,” said Hebe, her words tumbling out faster than she wished. “Cornelle Diana Tragina is leading a mission into Nordberg with a view to taking King Shabor and his council into custody. She has asked for you to serve as her copilot. I am going to ask you to refuse this assignment on grounds of ill health. You are still in therapy for the trauma induced by your action in Ostracis; it is against the combat manual for you to return to service at this time. She cannot force you to go.”
As she had expected, Brendel’s eyes were shining.
“Cornelle Diana asked for me?” she said excitedly. “Oh, Mother, how can you keep me from this mission? It is the dream of every huntress to serve with Cornelle Diana.”
“I have known Diana since we were young cadettes together at the Academy,” said Hebe, irritated. “She is hardly a role model. She is impetuous, rash, and takes unnecessary risks. Taking one squad into Nordberg to arrest King Shabor is typical of her—dangerous folly that you should have no part of.”
“Oh, Mother, I can see that you are worried,” said Brendel in a conciliatory tone. “But look at her record of success—Cornelle Diana is no fool. I am sure she has a plan. And it will be glorious to bring in the evil King Shabor!”
“I am the captain. I can take you off the active flight roster,” said Hebe severely.
“Mother!” exclaimed Brendel. “You wouldn’t do that! It would go on my permanent record. I’d never be promoted!”
“Oh, all right,” said Hebe, exasperated. “I don’t know where you get your pigheadedness from. It must be your stupid paternal genes.”
Brendel gave her a hug.
“Any courage I have, I get from you, Mother,” she said happily. “You have always been my role model, not Diana Tragina.”
AS DARKNESS FELL, the Hydromeda was running at full speed, cruising at an altitude of fifty thousand meters. Rhea had just come off duty and returned to her cabin when she heard her comm channel ping. She opened it. It was Centuria Blanchia Rodina, her executive officer, from the bridge.
“Captain, we have just received a flash message from Atlantic City,” she said. “Princess Deirdre is on an intersecting vector to us in the Hypathia, the Imperial air barge. They expect to intercept us within the hour, and I am preparing to take them alongside.”
“Are you asking for clearance to attempt a midair docking at this altitude in the dark?” Rhea was incredulous. “We are running through some very high thunderheads. I see lightning flashes through my porthole.”
There was a musical tone as Blanchia switched to a private, secure channel. “It is not what I want, Captain Rhea. I have been ordered to organize a midair docking to get the princess on board the Hydromeda at once. She has especially asked that you and Centuria Lady Alexandra be there to receive her when she comes aboard and that the reception be beamed on the public comm.”
The election is postponed, so the campaigning continues, thought Rhea. She quickly returned to the bridge and took over the conn. The air barge was in constant contact with them now as they vectored her in. Finally she hove into sight, her flashing tail beacon visible from several kilometers away. She closed rapidly, and both vessels adjusted to take up parallel courses.
Rhea signaled Blanchia and all the other deck officers to follow her, leaving only a skeleton crew on the bridge. They arrived on the Hydromeda’s quarterdeck just as Alex was forming up a squad of tall Guardians behind the airship’s recovery team. About a hundred meters away, the running lights of the Hypathia could be seen through the darkness. While she was dwarfed by the gigantic airship, she was still larger than any airboat and far too heavy to land on the Hydromeda’s flight deck.
The recovery crew on the Hydromeda opened up a set of powerful searchlights and almost on cue, the Hypathia’s searchlights came on to match. A glimmering green force-field conduit could be seen, traci
ng an unsteady midair pressurized tunnel of air between the quarterdeck hatches of the two ships. It was stretched back in an arc by the forward cruising speed of the two ships.
Then the Hypathia’s hatch slid open, and all free hands on both ships clicked on their magna-visions. Princess Deirdre emerged from the Hypathia and stepped out onto the seeming nothingness of the forcefield conduit between the ships. Fully aware that multiple views of this scene were being played on the public video comm, she was in full regalia, her red and silver formal uniform showing up brightly in the beams of the ships’ searchlights. The only incongruous element in her attire was Nasht, the ancient d’Orr sword that she wore in a tightly strapped back scabbard. The plumes on her ceremonial helmet streamed in the gale-force winds that sought to tear her from the narrow conduit and hurl her thousands of meters into the rocks below. She wore no safety harness, but her step was steady, even as the conduit flickered and sagged with the electrical discharge of every lightning flash.
“She looks every inch a queen,” whispered Blanchia into Rhea’s ear.
“That’s what this enterprise is designed to do,” returned Rhea without enthusiasm.
When Deirdre was about twenty yards away from the Hydromeda, Alex signaled to the recovery team, and they opened the ship’s hatch. Seeing her goal clearly in front of her, Deirdre lengthened her stride and stepped off the unsteady conduit to come aboard the Hydromeda. Rhea’s eyes, like those of most of the Zon sisterhood, were riveted on the scene playing out in front of her. Lunatic! she thought, shaking her head in wonder. Alex, the receiving squad of Guardians, and all the other officers and crew on the Hydromeda’s quarterdeck saluted, hands on hearts. When Rhea spoke, her words belied her thoughts.
“It is with great pleasure that I welcome you, Princess Deirdre,” Rhea said, raising her voice to be heard above the wind and engine noise coming in from the open hatch. Deirdre laughed—a long silvery tinkle—put her hands on Rhea’s shoulders, and greeted her as an equal.
The Empire of the Zon Page 33