IronStar

by Hallman, Grant

  Now for the other trebuchet – Crack! and a split appeared in the hinge. Crack! and the hinge splintered. Crack! and the split wood exploded in a shower of flinders. The heavy throwing arm crashed to the deck and bounced into the river, where it trailed in a tangle of rigging ropes. Not too shabby, Kirrah decided, blowing imaginary smoke from her weapon’s muzzle like she’d seen in an ancient ‘Western’ movie.

  On the far shore, a thousand Wrth screamed as one and plunged their horses into the water, headed for her position. Uh-oh, nobody told me those guys could swim…

  Chapter 24: Tubespace, En Route

  “Diplomacy is the art of saying ‘Nice doggie’ until you can find a rock.” - Will Rogers, op.cit.

  That was a good swim, thought Rear Admiral Lucinda Dunning as she pulled herself out of the deep end of the pool. Very thoughtful, too, of the Navy’s designers to arrange for some of the Belleville’s water storage to be allocated thus. Too bad nothing smaller than Battlewagons could afford it, but her good luck to find this amenity on board the Belleville, first of the new Yoruba-class warships on active duty at Trailway. Captain Alexi DaCosta had been quite proud of his kingdom, she reflected. As well he might be; this was a well-run ship, even if everything and everyone aboard seemed to squeak with newness. Admiral Sir Josiah McBain had been right, a little active patrol would do them a world of good.

  Luce began toweling herself off, reviewing the mission parameters. Acting on Admiral McBain’s ‘suggestions’, she’d selected three destroyers - Captain Sandra Wallace in the Argosy and Captain Vincent Steuben’s Attila, also the Utterson under Angelo Krepescue, and the light cruiser Meredith captained by Lewis Graham. Somewhat to her surprise, her first-choice list was approved immediately. Which made this mission either more urgent or more important than she had first assumed. Ah well, time to shake a leg. First evening under way, it’s Admiral’s Mess. Sigh, what’s a navy without Tradition!

  Dinner was served in the Captain’s private dining room, a formal affair with the Flag Captain at the head of the table, the Rear Admiral at the other end, and the four escort vessels’ captains seated down one long side. Bad enough we have to drop out of Tubespace to make the personnel transfers, the Admiral thought, but who invited these… oh yeah, I had to.

  These were the four civilians arrayed down the other side of the table to her right, the Mercantiles. Captain DaCosta rose to make introductions, just as though she hadn’t had every one of them checked, scanned and cross-checked down to the DNA level and back to conception, before admitting them to the task force.

  “Admiral Dunning, this is Madame Marissa Taggart of United Dominion Farms,” he gestured, and the vigorous-looking matronly woman at her immediate right inclined her head slightly. “Madame Taggart, Rear Admiral Lucinda Dunning.”

  “At your service, Madame.” A slight nod in reply, carefully calibrated. A surprisingly warm smile lit the other woman’s face, and she said:

  “Admiral, I’m sure you’d rather be going about Navy business without civilians along. UniDom is fortunate I was on-planet at the right time, and deeply appreciates this opportunity.” Luce’s smile warmed in return.

  “And this,” Captain DaCosta continued, “is Elizabeth Einarson of RegNet News, who is representing the press on this voyage. Admiral Dunning.” The familiar-looking, strikingly handsome pale blonde woman three places down the table stood and offered her hand.

  “Pleased,” Luce responded, taking the firm handshake. “I’ve enjoyed seeing your work.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. Perhaps we could arrange an interview sometime, if your schedule allows?” The reporter flashed a brilliant smile and dimpled winningly. Right, I’d love to be under your microscope, thought Luce.

  “I’ll have my steward contact you, I’m sure something can be arranged.”

  “Admiral Dunning, this is Mister Irving Baldwin, Vice President, Trailways Division, Planetation Corp. Mister Baldwin, Admiral Dunning.” The slightly beefy, mild-looking man seated beside the Captain rose and bowed briefly from the waist, then seated himself.

  “Charmed, Admiral.”

  “My pleasure, Mister Baldwin.” Vice president, no less! These people are taking this for a serious opportunity. Which it may well be, Luce thought.

  “And finally, may I introduce Dr. Garth Pennington, Director of Research for Atikokan Mining and Metals. Admiral Dunning.” The dark, slender, balding man second to her right rose and bowed.

  “Doctor Pennington, a pleasure. How did you happen to be in our small corner, if I may enquire? Are you not normally posted on Northland?”

  “Pleased to meet you, Admiral. Your information is correct, I do indeed work mostly at our central corporate facility. By chance I was working on a problem reported with a prototype hullmetal alloy, a new iridium-osmium-thulium matrix for which we have high hopes. Since the reports originated on Trailway, I took the opportunity for a little fieldwork, and happened to be the ranking Atikokan representative in the system when we received the Navy’s invitation. Of course an old lab rat like me would jump at the chance to visit a virgin system, a rare find indeed. The scan data you already made public has only whetted all our appetites, although I’m sure my interest in the asteroid data is not as exciting as these other persons’ fascination for the bioferous planet.” His eyes positively shone at the mention of the asteroid data, Luce noticed. As other eyes glazed over.

  “Indeed we appear to have found a life-bearing planet, Doctor. I see we are keeping the stewards from their duties… Captain?” With that the stewards began serving a bouillabaisse appetizer in formal china bearing the Belleville’s name and seal. As a small fruit dish followed, Elizabeth Einarson asked:

  “Tell me, Captain DaCosta, is it true this is your first assignment as captain?” Several splutters and quickly averted glares came from the left side of the table, the Navy side, as Luce had thought of it. The Captain’s thin eyebrows rose.

  “Miss Einarson, it would be very unlike the Navy to give command of a four point six megatonne fighting vessel to a new captain. I served for eleven years on heavy cruisers, the last four as captain of the Berkshire.” The atmosphere seemed a little… cooler, Luce noticed. “What is correct,” he continued, “is that this is my first command of a Battlewagon. It is believed by some that these new Yoruba-class Battlewagons’ more extensive automation make them closer in operation to the heavy cruiser than to the older Sioux-class ‘Wagons. I and a few other lucky captains are the Admiralty’s prototypes for testing this theory. So far, we’ve managed not to break any of the china.”

  Nicely done, Luce judged. Put her in her place, without being overtly unfriendly. More than she deserved, by the looks of Captain Krepescue over there… indeed the bushy-browed and swarthy master of the Utterson had looked like he thought a torpedo tube would make a good bunk for the under-informed journalist.

  “Madame Taggart,” Luce asked, “What would be the best possible thing to find at our new planet, from your point of view? That is, UniDom’s?” At least Miss Einarson had the good grace to look relieved when attention moved away from her.

  “Frankly, Admiral, I suppose the very best possibility would be a planet already inhabited by a race of highly skilled farmers who have valuable crops and will work for peanuts. Realistically we are always looking for new specialty crops. The Regnum’s supply of novelty never seems to keep up with demand. Failing that, we might hope to find useful native biochemicals. Nature is wonderfully inventive that way, if one happens to look in the right places. We are all hoping there is nothing but boring plants and animals with useful biochemistries, and absolutely nothing of interest to the Navy. In a professional sense, that is.”

  “I think you’ll find most Naval officers share your preference for boring missions, Madame Taggart. I wish you luck in your search. I understand you brought a small research team along?”

  “Oh, it's just Marissa, please. Yes, Admiral. Captain DaCosta’s Ship Steward was kind enough to find room for us and our equ
ipment, although most of it is on board the Meredith. And once there, we shall have to depend on the Navy for transportation. I know this is just a preliminary survey, but people who spend most of their time in space just have no idea how big even a small planet is, when you’re researching a biosphere one blade of grass at a time.”

  “I’m sure UniDom will follow up with a very thorough expedition at the earliest possible opportunity, Marissa. Isn’t this wine excellent? Is it one of the Eclipse vintages?” Heads nodded agreeably all around the table. The steward beamed and said:

  “The Admiral is quite discerning. That is Eclipse Reserve ’51, from the Mondavi vineyards on New Rochelle.”

  “A perfect example of the novelty factor,” Madame Taggart said. “That unique flavor and the pale magenta color, are both the result of some very ingenious work on the part of an early biosurvey crew on that planet. That entire geneline is now very popular.”

  A brief lull in the conversation while the main course was served. A delicious aroma filled the room. I will not, thought Luce as the dinnerplates were uncovered, let Captain DaCosta’s shameless pandering to my well-known tastes affect my evaluation of him. Much.

  “Captain, my compliments to your chef. And to whomever managed to find roast bisolope, in the midst of all your departure preparations.” She tipped a glass toward her dapper-looking captain at the other end of the table, who nodded in polite acceptance of the praise. “Mister Baldwin, what would Planetation like to find on our new hablet?” The man seemed to pause and consider, as though surprised by her question.

  “Well, living space of course, and a safe biome. Unlike my good friend from UniDom, our interest is colonization. So we prefer to find, not hordes of native farmers, but a world ready for a few well-sited cities, and lots of resources to make it all economically feasible.

  “I know it’s not popular to speak of economics where a new world is concerned,” he said, raising his hand to a couple of rolled eyes across the table, “but it can make a decisive difference to the colonists. Something as simple as the lack of a few trace elements, I think it was selenium and chromium, was at the root of all the hardships suffered by the colony on Greenworld. Nothing imported would grow, and nothing native was digestible by man nor beast. By the time they imported customized fertilizer and chromium for machine alloys, they were always just a bit behind the curve economically. Planetation took a big loss, and a great many colonists’ lives were disrupted. We have certainly learned not to repeat that episode, but the difference between prosperity and hardship can be nano thin.”

  How very interesting, Luce observed to herself as the dinner progressed. Everyone's so polite. Yet we know these same corporations are capable of gutting planets, or competitors, or the occasional Navy career if it comes to it, in pursuit of those ‘economics’.

  “There is just one other thing I've been wondering about,” asked Ms. Einarson as the stewards removed the remnants of the main course. “Is it usual to send so many Navy ships just to look at a new planet?” Glances were exchanged along the Navy side of the table, including several 'glad-I'm-not-the-Admiral' looks. “The last time this happened, that was when Elysium opened up sixteen months back, there were six or seven Mercantile ships and just one Navy ship on the official opening visit.”

  “Yes. Well, from the Navy's viewpoint, Ms. Einarson, there are a few differences,” Luce replied. “For one thing, Elysium was discovered on a survey well within Regnum space. This new system is three months' travel outside our previous borders. Second, Elysium was rather thoroughly vetted by the Survey Service before being turned over to Mercantile interests. Our destination has barely been scanned by a single probe.” Careful, Luce, this is not something we want hitting the rumor mill quite yet…

  “Well, why is that, Admiral Dunning? Why not just wait for the… who was it, the Arvida-Yee, to report back? What's the rush?”

  “Why do I get the impression I can see 'corders running behind your eyes, Ms. Einarson?” Luce smiled as she held up a hand in mock surrender. “Nothing nefarious, I'm sure, it's precisely because S22041 is so far off our usual territory - we don't even have a name for it, just a catalogue number - that the Navy decided to be …conservative. I'm sure these good skippers,” she waved a hand to her left, “were getting bored just sitting on their hands in Trailway orbit, and we all feel safer having them along. This far into uncharted space, one never knows what to expect. You did review the personal-injury waiver that RegNet signed for you, didn't you?” Luce arched one eyebrow in a mildly quizzical expression.

  “Well yes, and I suppose that explains the size of the party, but not its haste, Admiral. According to the Navy's PubInf node, the Arvida-Yee is due back in seven weeks, by that time we'll only be halfway there. Why not just wait the extra time?” Nothing if not tenacious, Luce sighed inwardly. Just like a reporter is supposed to be.

  “I can't say what was on Admiral McBain's mind, but I should imagine something as valuable to the Regnum as a new hablet would be worth staking our claim on, promptly. We have forces on standby at Trailway for exactly this kind of scenario. It just makes excellent sense to use them.”

  “Thank you Admiral, may I quote you on that?”

  “You may. And look, if I'm not mistaken, that's dessert coming through the hatchway…”

  Some time later, with the civs safely gone and the atmosphere more relaxed, the Navy sat around the table with a last glass of liqueur.

  “That was getting uncomfortably close, Admiral,” said Vincent Steuben. “I wonder how much the newsies actually know.”

  “Hopefully the lid is still on about the Kruss presence, Captain. We considered making this a pure Navy operation, I'll tell you frankly I argued for it. But Admiral McBain thought running off in the night would provoke more rumors than it was worth, so we played it by the book - public announcement of the find and a 'routine, official' Navy followup.”

  “Aren't we betting pretty heavily on the assumption that there are no more Kruss in the system, ma'am?” asked Captain Wallace. “Or for that matter, that they don't already have a dozen warships halfway there?”

  “We are, Sandra. For that matter, so is the Arvida-Yee. I wish we'd had the luxury of a few more days' wait for their next mailtube.” Hanging in the air between them was the unspoken 'If there was one'.

  “Admiral Dunning, I acknowledge and appreciate your confidence in selecting us as your escort, but I wonder if it wouldn't be good to send one or two of the destroyers ahead? We could cut forty-five days off the trip.”

  “Thank you, Angelo, I appreciate your initiative. We haven't worked together much, but it's part of why I asked for you specifically. All of you, actually. And again, if I had my way, that's exactly what we'd be doing. However when I suggested it, Admiral McBain rained all over it. As he saw it, if we need strength, there's no point getting there without it, and if we don't need strength, there's no rush. I don't see it quite that way, but entirely aside from the fact that he's our commanding officer, his instincts have been right far too often for me to want to buck them.

  “He and I both think the most likely prospect is that our Scout was just extraordinarily unlucky to run into what it did. You've all had a chance to see the data they sent. After a good look at it, the NavInt analysts are now quite sure it was a Kappa-class light cruiser, which puts it about midway between our destroyer and light cruiser classes. Captain Leitch was both incredibly good and very lucky to nix it the way he did, and we can only hope his luck held.”

  “It just seems so unlikely for the Kruss to be making a serious effort out that way, mused Sandra. “It's over seven hundred lightyears from their nearest base. By the time they detour Regnum space, that's the better part of a Standard year, just one way. Their fastest scout couldn't make the trip as soon as the Belleville does from Trailway. What can they hope to gain?”

  “That, people, is what we are going to find out. And put a stop to. It is getting late, I know you all have duties tomorrow and I suppose y
ou're all too polite to leave before your Admiral.” Luce smiled at the row of thoughtful, competent faces down the table.

  “I believe there is traditional precedent, ladies and gentlemen, to end Admiral’s Mess with a small toast. I give you the Arvida-Yee and her crew: Godspeed and safe home.”

  “Arvida-Yee” echoed from five throats, and six glasses rose in the ancient ritual.

  Chapter 25 (Landing plus sixty-five): Footrace

  “I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.” - The Book of Ecclesiastes, 9:11; King James Translation, circa 1400 BC Terra.

  Kirrah watched in consternation. Spray flew from the shallows for two hundred meters up and down the far shore of the Geera, as a thousand Wrth riders drove headlong into the river. Maybe it pissed them off when I broke the O'dai siege engines. Or maybe when we sank their transport ships. Or possibly they are annoyed at the fires burning so well on four of the six excise ships. Oh well… Checking beamer, seventy-seven percent charge, probably sixty-five or six shots left. Let's dial eighty percent power, that will still stop a Wrth, and give me fifteen or so extra shots… I wonder how many of them will make it across the river, and where is… what now?