He felt grateful and tried to smile. “That’s correct.”
“Then I w’not be askin’ you anythin’ else for now. But I might be later.”
“Maybe later I can tell you.” But I won’t, he thought. I can’t. I dare not tell her-
“From the frown on your face, Chief, I ken it will be a struggle to get it out of you.”
Henley sighed and looked at her half-empty plate. Well, now that I’ve ruined your meal, how else can I be of service?”
“I think we ought to get quietly drunk,” she said, looking straight into his eyes.
The genes will tell, Henley thought, then immediately caught himself. He had no right to make that judgment.
“It’ll take me some alcohol to settle down tonight.” And get the rest of this out of you, she added to herself. “Do you ken someplace we can do that without attractin’ too much attention? Or shall we buy a liter and take it to my quarters?”
Henley had no intention of drinking in her quarters. “I know a place,” he said, “if you have some civy clothes. They’re not much fond of the service there.”
“Happen to have some in my duffel,” she said. “But what about you?”
“We’ll check you into the ROB and change, then head for the Millius Tank where you can drink to your nerve’s delight”
And where I’ll pump you for the rest of truth, she thought. “You’re still in the lead, Chief. Let’s do it now.”
U.C.S. VICE-ADMIRAL FRYE CHARLTOS massaged his forehead with the tips of his long brown fingers.
2
Despite what he had told Bridgeforce, despite the victory at Satterfield, and despite the continuing reports of successful skirmishes against Sondak throughout the polar systems, he was no longer sure that the United Central Systems was winning this war it had started under his military leadership almost three long years before. He was not afraid of losing because he knew in his heart that the U.C.S. could never – would never – be defeated. But true to his early warnings to his staff and line officers Sondak had proved a difficult enemy.
With a long sigh he pulled his hands away from his face and returned to the stream of information still pouring in on his microspooler. There was so much to do – and so little time to. Do it in – that he couldn’t afford any more minutes wasted in worry. So long as he did his job properly, he knew he could lead the U.C.S. to ultimate victory. That was all that mattered, and that was what he had to focus his attention on.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Melliman’s voice said over his desk speaker, “but Meister Hadasaki just called to tell you he is on his way down to see you. Didn’t say what he wanted to talk about.
“Thank you, AOCO. Bring him in as soon as he arrives.”
“Will do, sir. Shall I prepare tea?”
“Good idea, AOCO,” Frye replied, and realized again how grateful he was for Melliman’s presence not only in his office but in his whole life.
Moments later Melliman entered the office and went directly to the tiny kitcove to make the tea. Frye watched her openly, admiring the suggestions of her figure that showed through the neat tucks of her uniform, thinking of the joy she had brought into his life.
He blinked and for a brief instant saw not Melliman standing with her back to him, but Vinita – a young, beautiful, healthy Vinita, a Vinita before – With a quick shake of his head and another blink he shook off that image.
Vinita was dead. He had killed her three years ago—killed her to keep her from dying in pain-and it was time to forget, time to scatter those images on the same winds that had scattered her ashes over the slopes of her beloved Irkbie mountains. But he couldn’t forget. He would never forget. No matter what happened, Vinita would always be a daily part of his life.
“Are you all right, sir?”
Frye was startled for an instant to see Melliman standing so close to him. “Yes, Clarest. I was just thinking about Vinita,” he said, glad that he could tell her that.
“As you always should,” she said softly. She reached and straightened the memo-box on the corner of his desk, brushing his hand in the process. “The tea will be ready when Meister Hadasaki arrives, sir. Is there anything else you need?”
He heard the undertone of affection in her voice and was all too aware of her hand brushing his, yet he was pleased beyond measure by the proper military way she conducted herself when they were on duty. “I’m fine, AOCO, for now. Perhaps later, however, we should discuss this.”
“As you wish, sir,” she said as she left the office. A few Minutes later she was back, ushering in Meister Hadasaki.
“Sit, Admiral, sit,” Hadasaki said with a wave of his hand as he crossed the office in his long strides. “And you, Captain,” he said to Melliman, “serve us some of that tea this office is famous for, and then leave us alone.”
Frye was shocked and amused by Hadasaki’s blunt manner but was willing to wait until after Melliman had served the tea and left before saying anything. “You’re in a rude mood today, sir.”
“Forgive me, then. But don’t waste time worrying about it, Charltos. I have several very important things to discuss with you-not the least of which concerns that renegade daughter of yours.”
“Which one?” Frye asked. “I have so many.” The look on Hadaski’s face made Frye regret his attempted humor. Hadasaki was obviously not in the mood for virility jokes. Especially that one, Frye thought. Yet Hadasaki was the only person who could laugh with him about that. No one else knew.
“You know damn well,” Hadasaki said after sipping his tea. “After she deserted on Yakusan, I thought the U.C.S. Was done with her. But now Judoff has discovered that your daughter is in league with the Oinaise on some deal concerning a new weapon.”
“The Oinaise? A new weapon? Where’s Judoff getting all this information? And what does it have to do with us?”
Hadasaki laughed curtly. “Who knows where Marshall Judoff gets anything except the young officers who service her? We know where they come from. But don’t ask how I know what Judoff knows. Just tell me what you know.”
Frye hadn’t heard from Marsha since sending her away to find her Sondak trader, and sadly, he was resigned to the fact that he might never hear from her again. “Nothing you don’t, sir. We weren’t on the best of terms, you know. She apparently left Yakusan with an Oinaise broker on a lightspeed freighter with neutral Patros registration. After that, who knows?”
“Judoff thinks she knows, so you’d better find out if you can, Charltos, because if her information is correct, she’ll use it against you with Bridgeforce, you can bet on that.”
Frye nodded, agreeing that Judoff would use anything she could against him but not that he was going to try to find Marsha himself. He had released her from her promise to serve with him and sent her as close to her Captain Teeman as he dared. He had no idea how she had escaped, but he did have one about where she wanted to go – Oina. That was where she had sent the message to Teeman. “You said there was something else you wanted to discuss, sir?”
“Several other things, Charltos, like when will the plans be completed for the next major offensive and when are you going to present them to Bridgeforce? Surely you can see that we’re losing time if we don’t mount this next attack as quickly as possible – and losing supporters, too.”
Frye allowed himself a small smile. “I thought you and almost everyone else on Bridgeforce wanted the first two bombships finished before then?”
“The bombships are damned! They may never be finished.”
“Forgive me, Meister,” Frye said with a quick wave of his hand. “I meant no disrespect. The plans should be ready within ten days.”
“Good. It’s about time. Now the important question is – the one Bridgeforce will demand an answer to – how deeply can we strike without the bombships?”
“It’s a three-phase operation, sir, fairly close to the preliminary proposal Bridgeforce approved. If the first two phases are successful, the third phase will be the at
tack on Nordeen itself.”
Hadasaki whistled softly. “Can’t get any deeper into Sondak than that, Charltos. But do you really believe we can do it – without the bombships, I mean?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” Frye sounded more confident than he felt, but as overall offensive commander of the U.C.S. Forces, he had no choice. He had to believe that his plans would lead to the final victory.
◊ ◊ ◊
Delightful Childe stroked his long, wrinkled proboscis with a seven-fingered hand and pulled his lips tight over his blunt, yellowed teeth. Humankind was an exasperating species, and individual humans always seemed worse than the norm. Yet despite his feelings of reserve about Marsha, he liked these two humans, and he wanted to be fair to them. By his faith in the Gods, he had to be fair to them.
“The answer to your question, Captain, is that we have agreed to represent the neutral alliance in the festbid for this ‘special’ weapon my cousin has procured.
“But why?” Lucky asked. “Why in the voids of space would you want anything to do with something like that?” He felt Marsha squeeze his hand slightly and knew she supported his persistence.
“Because, my dear partner, if we gain control of this weapon, then neither the Ukas nor Sondak can use it against one another nor could they use it against us or –“
“But doesn’t that mean the alliance won’t be any better-”
“Please, be patient and let me finish. As I was trying to say, if we possess the weapon, we can destroy it. Then it will never be used against anyone.”
Lucky shook his head. “I still don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Marsha added, “and I saw the damned thing and the scientist who supposedly invented it and-”
She cut herself off from adding Inspector Janette to that list.
Janette had wanted the weapon enough to steal Graycloud to get it. “What makes it so special, anyway?”
“Xindella did not tell you, then?”
“Would I be asking if your arrogant cousin had told me?”
“Easy, Mars,” Lucky said softly.
She gave him a half smile, and then looked back at Delightful Childe. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t see why this weapon is so important.”
Delightful Childe’s proboscis fluttered in a rumbling sigh. “If my cousin is to be believed, this weapon, when completed, would be capable of destroying a star from as far away as eight or ten parsecs.”
“Impossible,” Lucky said. “It would have to violate the laws of physics to do that.”
“Oh?” Delightful Childe cocked a ridge of wrinkled skin over one eye. “Have you become a physicist, now? Do you know how this weapon functions?”
“No, but...”
“Neither do I, Captain. However, neither is I willing to take a chance that the Ukas might get their hands on it and find some way to make it work. That is why the alliance is willing to outbid the Ukas and Sondak, regardless of the expense, because that is the only guarantee we obtain for our own safety.”
“Tensheiss,” Lucky cursed, “there has to be some other way.”
Delightful Childe looked carefully at Teeman. “We are open to all suggestions,” he said finally, afraid to acknowledge any stirring of hope. He and the council had discussed this through endless meetings with no other realistic alternative being presented by anyone.
“I don’t know,” Lucky admitted, yet he knew there was something wrong with this approach, something that was biting at the back of his brain. “But I’m sure not ready to give in to this idea just because you Oinaise think-”
“I do,” Marsha said. “I mean, I have another idea, another way you might solve your problem.” She paused and wondered if they would both think she was crazy – especially lucky.
“Offer to back the U.C.S. In the bidding – without anyone else knowing, of course,” she added. “Then you can talk them into secretly destroying it. Sondak will think the U.C.S. Still has it and will have to be wary of –“
“Preposterous,” Delightful Childe huffed. “We would certainly get no guarantees from the Ukas-“
“Stop,“ Lucky said quickly. Suddenly he knew what had been nagging the shadows of his thoughts. “Marsha’s idea is no more preposterous than your own. If you’re precious neutral alliance wins the festbid and possesses this super weapon why wouldn’t Sondak and the Ukes both turn against you? Then what happens to your guarantee of peace? Since when has possession of a powerful weapon ever guaranteed anyone peace?”
“An ugly but persuasive argument, Captain. Yet, I do not believe we have a choice. The festbid will be held regardless of whether we choose to participate or not. It still seems that the least risk to the neutral systems would be to possess and destroy the weapon. Perhaps your argument could be countered if there were observers from both human groups present.”
“I doubt it,” Marsha said before Lucky could reply. “They won’t believe you actually destroyed the real weapon, and as long as there was a mote of doubt in their heads, neither side would take a kindly attitude toward you.”
“Then perhaps another way can be considered,” Delightful Childe said quietly. “However, it would require your specific involvement, as neither I nor any other Oinaise could take the risk we would ask of you.”
“And what’s that?” Lucky asked.
“To steal the device from Xindella before the festbid and destroy it yourselves.”
Marsha looked at Lucky and saw questions in his eyes, the same doubting questions that were coursing through her own, all surrounding the biggest question of all why should they get involved in this?
“We would have to think about that,” she said, “and discusses it much more.”
“Then by all means, do so,” Delightful Childe said. “I excuse you both.” As they left, he prayed for relief from their annoying arguments and wondered what they would finally do. He prayed it was something quiet and unobtrusive and assumed that it would be, because they had no reason to risk their lives stealing the weapon from Xindella. No reason at all.
3
THE UKE FIGHTERS CAME STREAMING out of the belly of their launchship as soon as they reached the maximum range. Post-Commander Bacus smiled faintly when they appeared on her screens and sent her own fighters spewing from the Taxco against them.
It wasn’t her job to wonder why they were probing this uninhabited system or how they had located her ship. It was her job to hold her sector and fight back.
“They’ve got us outnumbered, Commander,” the Tech Mate said from his coordinating computer.
“As usual. Issue the order for standard skirmish procedures, Lieutenant Henry. Then notify POLFLEET Headquarters that we have made contact.”
“Aye-aye, ma’am,” the young lieutenant replied.
They’re getting younger every year, Bacus thought. And I’m getting older-too old for this kind of action. I should be holding down a desk on a headquarters-ship somewhere, telling others how to do the fighting. If there were a way to-
“Unidentified targets, high acceleration, one-eighty full astern!” the Tech Mate shouted.
“Size, type, and range,” Bacus demanded.
“Too soon to tell, Commander, but they look like hunks!”
“Full quartering defense!” Nothing scared Bacus like the thought of being pursued by the new Uke hunter-killers. They had blown a ship out from under her at Satterfield, and she dreaded what they could do to her now. She would have to defend Taxco against the hunks’ long-range missiles as well as hold off any Uke fighters that got through to attack the ship itself.
Commander Bacus had every right to be afraid. Less than ten minutes later the first four hunk missiles were on their way. Taxco’s gunners destroyed three of them, but the fourth missile caught Taxco with a glancing blow by the stern, temporarily knocking out her maneuvering engines.
After that it became a running fight, with Bacus finally deciding that the only way they would stand a chance was to chase the hunks instead of t
rying to avoid them. Her change of tactics helped, and it also confused the Uke fighters who broke through Taxco’s defense screen.
However, by the time the Ukes withdrew their fighters and their hunks thirty hours later, the Taxco had lost ten percent of its fighters, and half the others were crippled. The Taxco itself was seriously damaged but still capable of offering some defense for its sector.
The only thing that gave Commander Bacus any satisfaction from the whole encounter was that the Ukes had probably lost as many fighters as she had and at least one hunk. That was too little satisfaction as far as Bacus was concerned.
As much as she hated this duty, she hated not beating the Ukes even more. Someday, she thought, someday, we’re going to beat those homo Communis bastards, and whenever it comes, it won’t be soon enough-not nearly soon enough.
◊ ◊ ◊
The sun settled through an orange haze into the sea, filling the room with an almost-fluorescent light. It had been on an evening very much like this one when Mica Gilbert had come to Rochmon’s quarters on the day she joined his Cryptography staff.
Suddenly Rochmon remembered that day with annoying clarity. He had not brought Mica here until later in the evening – after dark – yet his casual memory linked her with the sexual ephemera he had used that afternoon years before. Maybe it was the odor that caused the link – the same heavy odor of sex mixed with the sharp smell of a fading ephemera that laced the room even now to remind him of his major vice.
Rochmon checked his chronometer and climbed swiftly out of bed. He had more than enough time to shower and dress for the promotion ceremony this evening, but he wanted to be clean now-immediately. And he wanted his room cleansed of the smell that had triggered those memories.
Mica was out there with Admirals Dimitri and Pajandcan, out where the fighting was going on, out there in danger. She had ignored his message of concern for her and rejected his request that she return. Instead, she had gone straight to her father for permission to stay with Polar Fleet. She was sending him her own message by doing that, yet he refused to accept it. More and more she haunted his thoughts, and worse – or better, he couldn’t decide which – her image appeared with increasing regularity in his erotic dreams.
Double Spiral War Trilogy Page 55