“Of course, sir,” Frye said, taking a deep breath as he tried to clear his mind. “Forgive my indulgence.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” Tuuneo paused and took a long sip of his ice water. “Now listen carefully, for I have much to tell you, beginning with the names of those who supported your Bridgeforce membership and why I believe they did so. Meister Hadasaki was the first to agree to my compromise. I believe he wants the bombships as much as anyone, but he also wants to maintain Bridgeforce’s balance against the kyosei. He is also the only other one who knows I am dying.”
Frye frowned without thinking. It pained him to hear Tuuneo speak of his death.
“Do not let yourself be distracted, Frye. There will be sufficient time for you to concern yourself with other matters after you join Bridgeforce tomorrow. Until then you must pay strict attention.”
“Of course, sir. Forgive me.”
“The most surprising supporter you have in Bridgeforce is Vice-Admiral Lotonto. She, I would have expected much opposition from, but her support came on the heels of Hadasaki’s probably because she, despite her kyosei sympathies, fears unbalance more than any threat you might pose. As for the others, the analysis is more difficult. However…”
For the next three hours Frye listened like an obedient schoolboy as Tuuneo gave him a brief primer on the intricacies of Bridgeforce’s politics and factions. He forced himself to concentrate on everything Tuuneo said, and asked questions only when it was absolutely necessary. Then for another hour Tuuneo questioned him to ensure that he understood what he had been told. Finally satisfied, Tuuneo sent Frye home to rest.
But there was no rest at home. Marsha heard him come in and followed to his small study.
“You look tired,” she said solicitously. For all their differences, she still felt great sympathy for him, and she knew he was working much harder than it was healthy to do.
“I am,” he said as he sat behind his desk without looking at her. “A great deal happened today.”
“Shall I fix you something to drink?”
“Yes,” he said, still not looking at her. “Fix one for yourself, too. There is something I have to tell you.” He watched her go with mixed emotions, but he had already decided on his course of action toward her.
Marsha had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but she could tell by his tone that it was something he considered very serious. As she fixed them each a drink in the next room, she wondered for the hundredth time if he had found out about her message to Lucky. She doubted it. If he had, he would have confronted her by now. And if he was going to confront her, he wouldn’t have suggested that they drink together. In his old-fashioned way, he still reserved sharing drinks for very special occasions. No, this had to be something else.
“Thank you,” Frye said when she brought him a tall glass full of the amber-flavored alcohol that was his favorite. “Thank you for remembering. Please, sit down.”
She sat and waited. At first he seemed absorbed by the task of organizing the memo cards he took out of his pocket, but then she realized that he was working up to something. She sipped her drink in silence.
“There are going to be some significant changes in our command structure,” he said without warning. “Since you no longer desire to remain with me, I am going to have you transferred to Yakusan as soon as it is convenient.” Finally he looked at her and thought again of what an enigma she had turned out to be. “That is as close to Oina as I dare send you.”
Marsha was shocked. He had discovered her message to Lucky!
“However,” he said, before she had time to respond, “until I can recall my former AOCO from duty off Sutton, I will require your absolute and total obedience to duty. Will you give me that?” Frye had decided on the way home to recall Melliman to his side. Despite the emotions she expressed for him – or maybe because of them, he didn’t know – Melliman was the best AOCO he had ever had.
“How did you find out?” Marsha asked finally.
“It doesn’t matter. Answer my question.”
“Of course. I mean, yes, I will continue to serve until my replacement arrives. But, Father…” She hesitated. During the battle for Matthews system he had spared Lucky’s Graycloud when he could just as easily have ordered it blown from space. Now he was giving her a chance to be with Lucky again. Why? “It makes a difference to me how you found the message, and why you are doing this.”
“There was a backup copy in the transceiver,” he said after taking a quick sip of his drink. “As for why, my reasons are purely selfish,” he said. Every day he knew what it was like to live without someone he loved. He could no longer deny her the opportunity to be with the man she loved.
“I don’t believe you.”
He ignored her protest and took another sip of his drink. The liquor was beginning to warm his stomach. He was too tired and preoccupied to get involved in another of their fruitless personal discussions.
“What you believe doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. “Now put that out of your mind and pay attention. We’re going to be busy most of the night.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Inspector Thel Janette waited patiently in Xindella’s empty outer office. Since Patros was an independent planet, technically she had no authority there. However, Sondak managed to exert far more than technical influence on Patros, and Scientific Security used many of the colony-states on the planet for its own purposes. Some of those states were unabashed supporters of the U.C.S. Others expressed strong sympathy for Sondak. Most proclaimed neutrality. All were centers of intrigue and corruption of one kind or another.
Here in Elliscity, neutral corruption reigned through the power of various “brokers” who controlled the trading in commodities ranging from raw ore, to information, to lives. If the price was right, they would arrange trades in anything and take what they considered to be a reasonable commission. Xindella was the richest and most powerful of all those brokers.
“Inspector Janette, please enter,” a voice said from a hidden speaker. Simultaneously a panel in the wall slid back to reveal a doorway.
Janette drew herself up to her full one hundred and fifteen centimeters and walked confidently through the doorway. The panel closed behind her immediately after she entered the room.
“A slight precaution, Inspector. Do not be alarmed,” said the huge Oinaise lounging on the opposite side of the room.
She looked at his flabby body with its wrinkled yellow skin lapping over the folds of bright red cloth he had wrapped around himself and almost laughed. “I am hardly alarmed, Xindella.”
“Ah, so you know me. I am flattered, Inspector.”
“I know all the major scoundrels on Patros,” Janette said. “May I sit down?”
“Such quaint terms you humans use.” Xindella snorted mildly through his wrinkled proboscis and displayed a full set of dull, yellow teeth. “Please,” he said with a wave of his seven-fingered hand, “sit anywhere that pleases you.”
“Thank you,” she said, choosing a tall stool that placed her closer to Xindella’s eye level.
“You were quite frank in requesting this meeting, Inspector, so I suspect you are one of those humans who does not care for undue ceremony. However, it is my obligation to offer you food and refreshment – even gorlet, if you wish it.”
Janette laughed. “Perhaps if we come to a suitable agreement,” she said, “I will partake of your hospitality. For the time being, however, all I ask from you is information.”
“Yes, of course,” Xindella stroked his wrinkled proboscis thoughtfully. “That seems to be the commodity you humans most value. However, I do not know what information I could give you that your efficient Sci-Sec does not already know.”
“Where did you sell Ayne Wallen?” she asked bluntly.
“Inspector! I do not trade in people’s lives, even in lives as worthless as Ayne Wallen’s.”
Janette knew he was lying. “We tracked him here,” she said simply. “He never left yo
ur complex.”
“Ah, but he did, Inspector. He did. I recommended that he deal with the Castorian Beliss’hatot. After that?” Xindella held his hands open in an almost human gesture. “After that, who knows what the foolish human did?”
With a laugh Janette pulled a small notebook from a pouch on her belt. “Lies, Xindella. Lies badly told. Shall I tell you exactly what happened after Ayne Wallen came to you?” Without waiting for his reply she began reading. “On the ninth of your local month Menet, Ayne Wallen left your office in the company of two human technicians and was taken directly to your repair facility at Strickland Starport from which he never left until your ship departed –“
“Ah,” Xindella said, holding up one hand, “I believe now that Sci-Sec has eyes and ears everywhere. But tell me. What does this Ayne Wallen matter to you?”
“Where did you take him, Xindella?” Janette was not about to let him lead her off on tangents.
Xindella snorted again. “I like you, Inspector. I do not know why, yet. Humans are not normally very likeable. However, if we can arrange some just recompense for my troubles, I will tell you not only where Ayne Wallen was taken but also where he is going.”
Janette’s eyes twinkled. “Sci-Sec does not pay what you call ‘just recompense’ for information, Xindella. It only ensures that those who refuse to cooperate are incapable of receiving information in the future.”
“Is that a threat, Inspector?”
“Of course it, Xindella.” Janette let a smile creep to her lips. “Surely you understand threats.”
“But I must have recompense!” he said with an angry wave of his hand. “The Ukas cheated me out of ten thousand credits. Surely you can understand that I have a right to receive something for all my efforts.”
“You have a right to stay in business, Xindella. Nothing more. I’m sure it would be a terrible blow to your business if some of your ships got caught up in this war and disappeared or were destroyed.” It was a neat bluff because he had no way of calling her on it without taking a great risk.
“Inspector! Such harsh measures are totally unnecessary. All I ask is some token of –“
“You want a bribe, Xindella. I cannot give you one. However, I can make you a business proposition.”
Xindella looked at her with his large eyes half-hooded by folds of yellow skin. “Something better than merely allowing me to stay in business, I hope.”
“Most certainly,” Janette said with a smile. Now it was time to bluff some more. “If you give us sufficient information to find Ayne Wallen and return him to Sondak, Drauztlab will pay you a, uh, ‘commission’ of fifty thousand credits.”
“Such an extravagant amount,” Xindella said with a sigh, “for such a puny human being. No wonder the Ukas wanted him so much. Very well, Inspector. As soon as half the fifty thousand is deposited in my account here in Elliscity, I will give you the information you seek.”
Janette checked a large chronometer on her wrist. “If you do not tell me very soon,” she said, “there is a very good chance the depository here in Elliscity will be robbed and you will have no account.”
Xindella snorted. “All right, Inspector. I can see that this all worth far more to Sci-Sec than it is to me. I delivered Ayne Wallen to the Ukas outpost on Juene. However, since they refused to pay me all that was agreed upon, I took measures to keep track of his whereabouts. Several weeks ago I received information that he had been sent to Texnor.”
“I’ll need precise coordinates for both places.”
With a sigh Xindella shook his large head. “Surely Sci-Sec has coordinates for Juene,” he said, “but I will give them to you anyway. As for Texnor, I cannot help you. That is a system I know only by its dreaded name.”
“Why was he sent there?”
“I do not know, Inspector. Nor do I care to know. Texnor is a system used by the Ukas as some kind of prison. Now if there is nothing else, I am suddenly tired. Forgive me for not offering you refreshments again.”
“There is one more thing.” Janette paused. “In return for your fifty thousand credits, you must take me to Texnor.”
Xindella snorted so hard that it hurt her ears.
“Impossible!” he said. “I just told you that I don’t know where this Texnor is.”
“Then find out,” she said quietly.
“But this was not part of our agreement!”
“It is now.”
“Why, Inspector?” he pleaded. “Why do you insist that I take you?”
Janette smiled and stretched. “Because, you Oinaise scoundrel, you can come and go as you please through the U.C.S.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Yes,” she said, checking her chronometer again.
“Of course,” he whispered finally, “but I do not know what good you can do even if we should find this place.”
“Leave that to me, Xindella,” Janette said with far more assurance than she felt. She played the whole scene with Xindella only partially by ear, basing key parts of her strategy on the deciphered trading reports provided by the woman, Bock. That Service Cryptography had dismissed Bock without evidence after accusing her of spying was Sci-Sec’s good fortune. Sci-Sec had quickly recruited her, and her information about Xindella had been priceless. That Xindella had given in to Janette’s bluff even easier than Bock had predicted, had compelled Janette to plunge past her suspicions of Xindella, and past all the information that she knew for certain was valid.
“I will return in five hundred Standard hours,” she said quietly. “Be ready to leave by then.”
Xindella merely waved at her with a long, bony hand and opened the panel in the wall.
As she left his offices, Janette knew she would have to do some quick planning and some quick talking with her superiors and with Drautzlab to get permission to raise the fifty thousand credits. She wasn’t sure she could get either, but she couldn’t let Xindella suspect that. In her determination to retrieve Ayne Wallen, she had committed them both.
15
“WE DUMPED OUR GEAR in our cabins and got here as soon as we could, Admiral Pajandcan,” Henley said, bringing himself to attention and giving her a quick salute.
“Sounds like you two had an exciting trip.”
“Too damned exciting for me, Admiral. Captain Gilbert might be used to space battles, but I think that I’d like to spend my old age in more sedate circumstances.”
“Chief Stanmorton did quite well, actually,” Mica said with a smile for Henley. “He stayed in the Battle Center during the whole engagement and –“
“Because I was too frightened to leave,” Henley said with an exaggerated grimace.
“I don’t have Devonshire’s battle report yet, so give me your versions of what happened, starting with you, Captain Gilbert.” Pajandcan handed them each a mug of strong-tea. “I think we’d better let the Chief calm down for a little.”
“I’m calm,” Henley said. “As calm as I can get after almost having met my maker in the voids of space.”
Mica smiled at him again. “Militarily it was a rather strange engagement. The Mitchell picked up the Uke ship about two hours before we were scheduled to leave subspace and start our deceleration. Admiral Devonshire was showing us the Battle Center when the report came in. She immediately ordered Mitchell and Hughes to intercept. They broke from the convoy –“
“And the Uke started from a dead stop and began its attack,” Pajandcan said with a sad smile.
“Exactly, Admiral. Was that in Admiral Devonshire’s preliminary report?”
“No, Captain, it wasn’t. But that’s what we received form an earlier hunk attack on another convoy.”
“Hunks? Those little subspace hunter-killers? I thought the Ukes had given up on those things?”
“Apparently not, Chief. Please, Captain, continue.”
“Well, it was a running fight for about thirty minutes. The Uke fired two or three missiles at Mitchell and Hughes, but only one of them actually did any damag
e. Admiral Devonshire pulled the other two line ships into a defense formation and sent the convoy to the emergency escape point here. I’d guess that we fired fifty or sixty spikes at the Uke while it fired four missiles at us. We must have hit it eight or ten times, but it never seemed affected. Meanwhile –“
“Meanwhile the Lifeline caught a missile in the stern that damned near sent us all to eternity,” Henley said. He thought of how exciting the story would be when he wrote it up.
“Not quite,” Pajandcan said. “Devonshire’s preliminary report indicates the loss of one outboard engine and extensive hull perforations, but nothing extremely serious. You were still a long way from eternity, Chief.”
Henley slurped the scalding tea. “It was serious enough when it hit us, Admiral. And I’ll tell you what. I hope I’m never in a place more serious than that. I’m too much of a coward to want to live through –“
Mica’s laugh cut him off. “He’s so much of a coward, Admiral, that he volunteered to help the damage control parties with their emergency repairs.”
“Bravado,” Henley said with a smile. “Sheer bravado.”
“Your father warned me he was a character,” Pajandcan said, “but he didn’t tell me the man was crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. I was just afraid that all our air was going to leak out and I wanted to make sure it didn’t.”
Suddenly they all laughed together.
“Anyway,” Mica continued, “after firing its missiles at us, the Uke slipped by at a fantastic rate of acceleration. Admiral Devonshire sent Hughes after it, but there was no way it could catch up. You know the rest, I think.”
Pajandcan sighed. “I do. Unfortunately, I do. Admirals Dimitri and Dawson have worked out a defensive plan to counter this new hunk – that’s classified information, Chief,” she added quickly, “but they haven’t had much data to go on. I only wish we could take the offensive against them.”
“What’s classified? The Plan? Or the fact that the Ukes have a new hunk?” Henley asked. He liked this Pajandcan, and he wanted to be sure he stayed on her good side. He also had to know what he could put in his story.
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