Micah kept his conversation toward Tobart neutral but with a small spark of interest. He didn't want to cold-seven the man out of hand but the curiosity grew stronger and stronger with each clipped word. Just before Micah left, Tobart handed him a card and admonished him not to let Outremin see it.
Strangely, Micah's thoughts wandered to the Nebula Worlds Federation as he drove. He thought hard on the time he and Ferrel spent there. They were tracking a group of very clever people led by a man both sly and devious, and responsible for an amazing list of crimes from more places than just the League. No matter how close he and Ferrel came, they always missed the man. Only with the help of Robin Macy, a shy and brilliant data technician, did he and Ferrel manage to locate their quarry. Even then it was a dicey operation. Toward the end of it he and Ferrel discovered the man worked for...
Success!!
Micah realized where he'd heard that accent before and that revelation sent ice down his spine. Even as this happened, the analytic part of Micah's brain powered up and jumped into linkdrive with calculating options. If what he suspected was true, and he'd bet a rib-rack and ten desserts from Beyonder's Bistro on it, their mission just turned ten times more serious! He began composing messages.
***
Kidwell observed the Fallstar Lines building critically. As the largest shipping company and the primary source of income for the entire planet, the defective parts would most likely come through it. So she theorized. Thompson argued in favor of one of the smaller companies. His theory: easier for a small fish to escape notice by swimming underneath a large one. As a result he now had the task of surveiling his prime candidate. She was almost ready to move in and mingle with the crowd entering and leaving the building when her comm started vibrating.
'Situation 17,' sent Micah, 'Urgent to meet now! House V is playing nice with the Consortium.'
***
Micah sat, not patiently, and waited. Not patiently. Now he wore a different face and he had a lot more equipment than he did before he visited the warehouse. The League office at Fallstar's port had precious little in the way of League gear but Micah raided it eagerly. The officer in charge, quite rattled by Micah's information, promised to acquire what he could as quickly as he could.
Kidwell entered the chog shoppe arm-in-arm with an apprehensive Thompson. They sauntered over to Micah's table, ordered chog and sat with pleasantries. Micah wasted no time activating his garble.
"What is it," asked Thompson sharply, "Vera wasn't very talkative. That disturbs me."
"Really bad news, no blather," said Micah. He gave a brief summary of his visit to the warehouse. "So I don't have certified genetic scans and documentation but I've never heard that particular accent anywhere but from a Consortium mouth. I sent Ted a top-priority message but that will take time. More time if he's away from his comm." She would know what he meant by that. "Commander Thompson, do you agree that I'm in charge of this mission?"
"Micah..." Kidwell started a classic scowl.
"Yes sir," said Thompson, "This might not be the time, but Vera told me about what happened to you. Before, I mean."
"Slib," said Micah, "We'll swap sloshes when this is done. Vera?"
"I won't salute! But yes, you are in command."
"Polar." Micah handed her a keycard. "This is my hover. It's the blue-striped one parked around back. You'll find weapons and equipment in the boot. This is official now."
"So what's the op," asked Thompson.
"As of now everything we know and everything we've assumed or modeled is suspect," said Micah, "House B is looking pretty slimy but House V just left them powered down on the tarmac. Speaking charitably, V doesn't know exactly who their partners are. It's a stretch, no blather, but indulge me.
"From everything Outremin has shown and what I can gather about Fadding and the rest of House V, they wouldn't particularly care, whether they knew or not. They all have a frothing slaver against House B and all they want to do is bring it down. I realize I've only seen a small group, and that includes two from Binkor-Sud and Snughblak, but even they don't act worried about possible Corpse agents in their midst."
"For my metal," said Kidwell, "House B looks more and more like a jolly-bag of first-stoners. They and V truly despise each other on every level. Well, the lower levels at least. I haven't attended any of their high-formal events lately."
Micah thought hard a moment. "Think about this. B can't think we wouldn't eventually notice such an upsurge in defective parts. Especially when they fail under battle conditions. If the League, Navy or Guilds investigate they'll shut down the whole operation and break contract.
"At this point House B takes the hit and bears the brunt of the splash. They are turning out bad parts, causing ships to fail under stress and killing League soldiers through negligence. House V, who happens to be their worst enemy despite the fact they're related, steps in to fill the vacuum. And, they just happen to have a ready-made supply of exactly what the League needs and at a verifiable higher quality."
"Manufactured by the Consortium," supplied Kidwell, "Burnit! Feces!! I need to work up some models for it, Micah. It does make sense, though, and a lot of it."
"Then mark that one as provable and start proving. Officially."
Kidwell nodded and Micah left. He left them the garble.
***
Thompson watched Micah disappear through the door.
"Is something bothering you, Cap'n John," asked Kidwell.
"Lots of somethings," he replied, "The Consortium, of course. That's worth a hades of a lot of bother. What bothers me more is the casual way the two of you talked about it."
"It's not casual, lover, I promise you that."
"Vera, every time my ship grounds and I have leave, my friends Jake, Al, Mart and I always decide what to do first: eat, drink or dance. Nothing unusual about that." Thompson paused. "That's exactly the way you and Stone talked about the Consortium. Like dealing with them is just a part of everyday life. Yes, Vera, that is very disturbing! What is Protocol?"
Kidwell smiled. "It's just like I told you, John. It's a service no different from the Navy. Same mission, different training. Now that we suspect Corpse involvement we can use a lot more of it. If you must worry then worry about Micah. In case you missed it he officially took command of the mission."
"I got that part, Vera."
"No, dear. By taking command, officially, he's set himself up to take all of the splash if we're wrong, or even if we're right but the puppy gets rutted," she said. Then, more softly, "As usual."
"Slib," said Thompson, "Since you won't talk... What's the op? Officially."
"Officially," said Kidwell, "We begin investigating a suspected Consortium presence within League space. We attempt to discover the depth and breadth of the penetration, along with any compromised assets, report it and end it. For solid truth it doesn't really change our assignment, it just raises the wager. It also gives us a lot more latitude in tactics, the which I intend to use heavily until it runs out! Let's go."
They found the hover easily and, as Kidwell suspected, they found a treasure ship of equipment inside. The amount, types and range of it surprised Thompson but didn't stop him from helping himself to plenty of it!
"First on the list," said Kidwell, "we own Fallstar's nets. Company, port and planet in that order. We know six-sigmas Varl is working through them. We also know there is a megafac operating in a LINC-less system within three days link from here and that Fallstar might be the ones operating it. If we find that, five credits says we find everything else."
"It could be a colony," said Thompson.
"Indeed it could. Unregistered and unclaimed, which puts it in violation of the Member Worlds Articles and at least half a thousand Guild regulations."
"Truth. What happens if we find it?"
"Investigate and eliminate," said Kidwell, "Same as before."
"With just the three of us?!"
"Of course, darling," grinned Kidwell with a w
ink, "We have one more operative than we have goals. Sucker bet!"
***
Laird Fadding, roused too early from a restful sleep by a stone-faced Moumar, reread the messages that precipitated his untimely morning. The first, a troubling missive from n'Guirro, disturbed him the most.
According to n'Guirro, League Intelligence was in the middle of an investigation of unknown scope and scale. Its target: a suspected Consortium presence within the Crown worlds. Fadding hadn't planned on that particular fact coming into the open but he had contingencies, even for the low sigmas. It troubled him more that n'Guirro didn't know the full details of it. The agent sending the report had it classified - and worse, encrypted - past n'Guirro's authority to access or ability to break.
The second message, while irksome, provided a possible solution to his potential problem. By what Outremin reported, Binkor-Sud and Snughblak wavered in their dedication. For truth, Fadding expected such before now yet still cursed their timing. No matter, though. He had enough damning evidence to bring them forcibly into line and in the process shift the burden of blame from his House to theirs.
Fadding began composing his messages. First to Outremin and then to various other Lairds. His plan could have used a little more time to ripen but, by stars and seas, he would not let it rot!
***
Thompson sat beside Kidwell in Fallstar Lines' main office. Ostensibly, Kidwell wanted to check on the shipping status of some merchandise she expected soon. In reality, Thompson had no idea what she wanted but she laughed delightfully, and a bit smugly, at the finding of it. She used a terminal from Stone's cache and Thompson suspected that had something to do with her happy state, too.
"That's odd," she said.
"Odd?!"
"Odd, lover. Don't go suborbital. It's nothing I did and nothing that can be traced to me," she said, "It's just that there's another compromising factor in the net. It looks recent but not fresh and neither Micah nor I put it here. This is plus-plus more Charlie than me."
"What exactly do you want?"
"I'm looking for any information concerning the defective parts," she said, "We knew at least two shipments came through here. I've found almost all of the others, too. Now I'm just digging."
"Ruddy dangerous place to dig."
"Less so than you think, dear. The information I want isn't public but it's a long way from being highly private or confidential. Besides, we're inside their outer security and that's the tough one."
"Mpf." Thompson eyed the lobby crowd warily. She might think the security lax, but his many experiences with Ferrel told him otherwise!
"Odder and odder," said Kidwell, "I have manifests tracking all the defective photon arrays here. Not just to this planet and not just to this company. Here. They all originated exactly here. The company has three warehouses where they transferred but no records, and I mean absolutely squelch, as to where they were beforehand."
"Wait," said Thompson, "Those were League certified from the manufacturer. They were Guild sealed and certified. How the flames did that happen?"
Kidwell shrugged. "My best hypothesis is that the certified units were shipped here as something else. That's difficult to do but not impossible. It's easier if you own the shipping company and the planet."
"But..."
"I'm not saying they didn't have help. Possibly lots of it. Fallstar the company does business with every House in the Crown as well as tons of major independent businesses, inside the Crown and even from non-Crown League worlds. How hard would it be to conceal a few irregularities under all that paperwork? That makes even more sense if you're a company that routinely renews, revalidates or acquires lots of quirky import and export certs."
"We'll never find that," said Thompson gloomily.
"Truth, my love, but this is something we can give to the Guild auditors! Once we give them a few good starting points they can take over. They do have the resources to track every single item on every single transaction for the past dozen centuries. Or at least a few years."
"Polar. What now?"
"We get this to Micah. And... other friends. I'll message him now because he'll probably want to meet and add his data to the main report."
Kidwell blipped Micah her message as she and Thompson walked toward the door. He returned it not long after that. He did want to meet, but later that evening. Much later, he explained, since Outremin had received a message from his Laird and the two of them had not slowed down since then.
"Plus-plus polar," said Thompson, "It's about time we..."
Something burst loudly inside the hover. Kidwell smelled a sweet, sour scent just before the world faded to darkness.
Chapter 14. Loyalties
Reginald Laird Fyrelm sought and found inner calmness. Rumors of the most serious Moot censure were so ubiquitous now he no longer doubted their veracity. He still had no meat on those bones but that mattered little, he knew the call to Moot would come soon. House Varl and its allies maneuvered to take advantage of whatever happened, as if they didn't know, and the other Houses also showed heightened and unusual activity. They didn't necessarily want to profit from Brightcrown censure but they certainly thought to their own defense.
The action in Varl, Binkor-Sud and Snughblak now precluded any preemptive measures. The Great and Noble House of Brightcrown must needs close ranks and prepare for the onslaught, from whatever direction or source it came. It would persevere, whether or not its Laird did. Brightcrown had indeed weathered many storms and would, no doubt, weather many more. As Fyrelm saw it, his duty now lay toward his allies and his friends.
"Yes, m'Laird Fyrelm?"
Luther Laird Edders and Savn Laird McReely both stood and bowed properly with concern evident on their faces.
"Be welcome, my friends." Fyrelm motioned them to chairs. "I fear the nature of my news is far less than pleasant."
Edders and McReely exchanged looks.
"As you well know, the rumors of censure against House Brightcrown have reached the level of certainty. It is past sanity that we still have no substance to them yet certain they are. I have reviewed all the material your agents could gather. I have no doubt it connects sensibly, perhaps even to the justification of whatever censure is raised, but I can make nothing of it.
"Pray understand, my friends. I do not accuse! You and your blood have done well and beyond duty, and I commend them for that. It appears, sadly, that our foes have stolen more than a few marches on us. You all have served House Brightcrown past any obligation I could or will place upon you, but now is the time to look to your own Houses.
"My dear friends, it is with sadness and regret that I must ask you to sever all ties to House Brightcrown. I will not have you share our fate, and whatever shame befalls us need not stain the Houses of Edders or McReely. Save yourselves and guard yourselves, for I fear I shall soon lack the ability to aid you."
After a moment of stunned silence, Edders and McReely both spoke as one.
"Never, m'Laird Brightcrown," said Edders, "Never! As long as your House has stood loyal to us we shall stand loyal beside you! So long as one drop of Edders blood yet survives we shall shore up and protect the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown!"
"Nay, Laird Reginald," said McReely, "Without Brightcrown there would be no McReely! We stand as your ally in truth, not of convenience! McReelys will fight for Brightcrown until the last of us falls!"
"My friends, please! Do not be foolish. Luther, Savn, there is no need for your Houses to suffer the sling that fells Brightcrown. Sever your ties and save what you can. Brightcrown will survive. If not then we shall rise anew! My Oath is upon that."
"Then shall we all, Reginald," said Edders.
"I agree," said McReely, "I regret to report that my communication with Lady Blue and Sir Karr has been disrupted. It will be quite impossible to contact them."
"Alas," said Edders, "My communications were through Savn."
Fyrelm stared hard at both men, neither of whom wavered a
milli.
"If the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown has a fault," said Edders, speaking to McReely but for Fyrelm, "it lies in its total refusal, and that of its Lairds, to allow its friends to take risk on its behalf. Reginald, my old friend, we shall stand beside you as you have us so many times. Did you wish to ask any Edders, blood or oath, they would say the same. They would say the same from the strongest Noble blood to the most distant oathbound. Besides, did the Great and Noble House of Brightcrown fail, how dire would be the plight of her allies?"
"But..."
"Nay, Laird Fyrelm," said McReely, "Our lot and our allegiance is with you. Consider us Brightcrown-stubborn on that!"
Fyrelm opened his mouth to respond before realizing he had no words to say. Thanks, gratitude, appreciation... All such words fell short of the trust his friends had in him.
"Thank you, my dearest friends. That is far short of what you have given me yet it is all I have to offer."
"Then be patient, Laird Brightcrown," said Edders, "Ere long we shall have a heaping plate of justice to serve House Varl and its minions!"
"With dessert," added McReely.
***
Charlie Ferrel stepped off the ship and onto the ground. The sun shone brightly and a few distant clouds drifted across the sky in serene counterpoint to the deep and turbulent emotions roiling within him. He took a moment to calm them, and to sniff the air which smelled of the planet, faintly here at the port but still present.
He regretted not speaking to Ionoski in person, but just as well this way. He left a message which Comm Central assured him would reach Ted at best speed. As to Micah and Vera... He left them messages they'd find when they returned to Azure. For now, let them enjoy their lengthy furloughs. They certainly deserved them.
The Burning Crown (Stone Blade Book 4) Page 18