Double Spiral War Trilogy

by Warren Norwood

  With grim determination he pushed all of that out of his mind and concentrated on the work at hand. Every detail of the upcoming invasion of Sondak seemed to be crossing his desk, and at this moment he was very grateful for the distraction from his dark thoughts that the invasion provided. But five hours later, when Hadasaki and Lotonoto arrived for the meeting Melliman had arranged, the chill still had not left his bones.

  “Meister. Admiral,” Frye said as they entered his office, “I am pleased that you both could find time for me on such short notice. Please make yourselves comfortable,” he continued, indicating the informal group of chairs at one end of his office.

  “This is about Marshall Judoff, I understand,” Vice-Admiral Lotonoto said, taking the only chair with its back against the wall.

  “Yes, Frye said, surprised that she so abruptly brought up the subject when normal courtesy called upon her to wait. “And the auction for this mystery weapon she is trying to procure,” he added. He and Hadasaki sat facing Lotonoto, and Melliman began serving tea.

  7

  ”I need your assistance,” Frye said after they had all finished their first servings of tea and Melliman had refilled their cups. “I see no way or reason to dissuade Marshall Judoff from attending this ‘festbid’ of hers, but we need the ships of her fleet to succeed in the first phase of our invasion.

  Hadasaki smiled grimly. “She controls one hundred seventy two ships, doesn’t she?”

  “Two hundred eleven if you count her supply ships,” Lotonoto said. “Of all those, I believe we have planned to use all but six of the fighting ships and all but one of the supply ships.”

  “That is correct,” Frye said.

  “What, then, is the problem?” Hadasaki asked.

  “We have to ensure that those ships launch as scheduled with the other fleets, don’t we, Admiral Charltos?”

  Frye was pleased that she had such a firm grasp of the problem. For an officer with kyosei sympathies, Lotonoto was remarkably independent in her thinking. “Correct again,” He said with a slight bow of his head.

  Hadasaki nodded. “I see now. You’re afraid she’ll pull them out until she returns with this weapon of hers?”

  “Or try to take them with her,” Frye said.

  “And your proposal?” Lotonoto asked.

  “To realign the fleets so her ships are divided among all the fleets and under the fleet commanders whose first loyalties are to Bridgeforce rather than to Judoff?”

  “That will take a big fight,” Hadasaki said.

  Frye smiled slightly. “Only if Marshall Judoff is present.”

  Lotonoto’s frown wrinkled her forehead up past her hairline. “I suppose it could be done, but I do not like it.”

  “Nor do I,” Frye said quickly. “However, I firmly believe it is necessary if we wish to succeed in our plans.”

  “Your plan,” Hadasaki corrected him.

  “His plan as accepted by Bridgeforce,” Lotonoto said.

  Looking down at the floor, Frye said, “I would rather think of it as our plan, for every member of Bridgeforce made significant contributions to it.”

  “Very well,” Hadasaki said gruffly. “Our plan. But even if we do meet without Marshall Judoff and suspend the rules in order to divide her fleet, can any of us guarantee that she will abide by our decision?”

  “Yes!”

  The sharpness in Vice-Admiral Lotonoto’s tone startled Frye, and he was eager to hear what she was going to say.

  Lotonoto gave them both a wicked smile. “I can ensure that she will be away from Yakusan until after her fleet is physically dispersed. Once that happens, it will be too late for her to call them back and attend her auction at the same time. From all that has happened, I suspect she will choose the auction with an eye to reforming her fleet later.”

  “Yes, but how would you do it?” Hadasaki asked.

  “I won’t,” she answered. “The kyosei will.”

  Frye let out a long sigh. “Admiral,” he said slowly, “the U.C.S. will be greatly in your debt if you accomplish that.”

  “No, Admiral Charltos,” she said softly. “It is I who am forever indebted to the U. C.S.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Hadasaki asked, “How quickly can you arrange this?”

  “Two days, no more,” Lotonoto said as she rose from her chair. “We can call the special Bridgeforce meeting as soon as she is gone.”

  Frye and Hadasaki stood at the same time. “Yes as soon as she is gone,” Frye said, wishing there were some way Judoff would be gone for good. “I thank you both.”

  HEW ROCHMON SOMETIMES WISHED he had never gotten involved with the Service and Cryptography, and especially with Bock. For all her intelligence and skills, it took enduring patience for him to abide her presence. There was no doubt that Cryptography had been less effective without her than it had been when he and his staff had her mind to draw on. But there was also no doubt that none of the strange personality types who seemed drawn to Cryptography were half the trouble that Bock was.

  15

  In the seventy days since she had returned to work, she had managed to anger or frighten everyone on staff who hadn’t known her before and half of those who had. Her attitudes concerning cooperation were totally self-serving. Bock openly lusted after every male under thirty-five and every female under forty-five whom she came into contact with. Department heads had demanded that he not allow her in their departments. Senior officers had Military Guards physically ban her from their floors and then complained over his head. Now Admiral Gilbert was thinking about sending her back to Sci-Sec.

  That would have been fine with Rochmon except for one thing. In the seventy days since she had returned, she had made more progress in breaking the Uke’s Q-3 code than the rest of his cryptographers had in three hundred days. For all the valid reasons that he would be glad not to have to put up with her, Rochmon needed her. Sondak needed her.

  He glanced at his clock. Admiral Gilbert would be here in less than an hour, so he might as well start getting Bock ready for this meeting now. He punched her number on the intercom.

  “What?” her voice asked curtly.

  “I want you to come to my office as soon as you can.”

  “Can’t. Busy. Get someone else to play with.”

  Before he could reply, the intercom’s light went off, and he knew she had broken the connection. With patience born of experience he punched up her number again. “Bock,” he said as soon as the light went on, “you will come to my office now, if not sooner. This can’t wait.”

  “Everything can wait. You want the Q-Three or not?”

  “Don’t ask stupid questions. Just get over here.”

  “Damn! You love to slow me down. Why can’t you –“

  “Now Bock,” he said, using the command voice he had learned on the drill field as a fuzzfaced cadet. “You will report to my office immediately.”

  Her answer was to disconnect again, but three minutes later she charged into his office without knocking and slammed the door without breaking her stride as she moved straight to his desk. “What’s your problem this time, you motherless whelp?” she asked as she slammed her hands on the edge of the desk and leaned forward with raw anger in her eyes. “Did you lose your manhood and need I to find it for you?”

  If Rochmon hadn’t seen all this before, he would have been furious. Instead, he just laughed. “Sit down, Bock, and save the act for someone else. Or better yet, why don’t you just –“

  Bock cleared her throat, then spat in his face. ”Save that, poker,” she said with a cruel smile.

  Without thinking, Rochmon slapped her as hard as he could, then backhanded her as she fought to retain her balance. Her body twisted across his desk, then fell to the floor with a loud moan as a stack of reports slid after her.

  As quickly as he could, Rochmon moved around the desk, wiping his face on his sleeve. The only thing he felt at that moment was anger – anger at her for what she had done and ang
er at himself for misjudging her mood. He felt no regrets about slapping her.

  She looked up at him with both hands holding her face.

  “You’re faster than I would have figured,” she said slowly. “Not bad…for a man.” She held up one hand to him.

  “Think you can act like a civilized human being for now?” he asked as he helped her to her feet.

  “If that’s what happens to the uncivilized, I guess I’d better,” she said one hand still holding her jaw. “I had that coming, I suppose.”

  “You did. And you’ve got a lot more coming if you don’t pay attention to what I’m about to tell you.”

  She sat in the overstuffed chair beside the door. “I’d just as soon you didn’t hit me again.”

  Rochmon sat on the front of his desk, ignoring the mess on the floor for the moment. “I’m not about to hit you again, but Gilbert might – not with his fists, but he might use the power of his office to slam you hard. Hang it all, Bock, why can’t I get you to understand that you can’t run rampant through this headquarters insulting people and sexually assaulting people without having to pay for it sooner or later?”

  “So that’s what the problem is,” she said with a smile that quickly turned into a grimace. “You really hurt me.”

  “You hurt yourself or cause other people to hurt you. Did you know that in the largest country on Laurel if you spit on someone they can legally demand that your tongue be cut out?”

  “So, who’s on Laurel that we care about? And why should I have to nambyfoot around this headquarters? We’re all big boys and girls and neuters here, and it’s a tough world.”

  Rochmon sighed, then crouched down and started picking up the reports and putting them back on his desk. “Gilbert will be here in a few minutes. He’ll want me to defend you and explain why you shouldn’t be sent back to Sci-Sec or worse. And he’ll want you to defend yourself.” He paused as he picked up the last of the reports. “I think I’ll just let you defend yourself. No one person, however intelligent and valuable she is, can be worth the disruption you cause in my headquarters.”

  “Now wait a minute, Hew. If you think I’m going to –“

  “I don’t care what you think, Bock.” He stood up and moved back behind his desk. “It’s harder to defend you than it is to remember your full name – which, I gratefully believe, I have totally forgotten.”

  “Jectiverdifiaad Barrabockerman Montivillieo Questen Pasqualini,” she said in the musical accents of her homeland “Did I ever tell you what my name means, Hew?”

  “No, but don’t bother.”

  “It means the child of whore Pasqualini born in the gutters of Montivillieo. Nice name for a child to grow up with, eh?”

  “If you want my sympathy, Bock, it’s way too late for that. The travails of your childhood do not make up for your actions as an adult.” The sad expression on her face stopped him from saying anything else. He’d never seen her look like that, and despite what he had said, he felt sorry for her.

  “You think Sci-Sec will take me back?”

  Rochmon sighed. “Look, Bock, go back to your office and bury your head in the Q-Three. I’ll take care of Gilbert for you one more time. But this is the last time. Either you act in a civil manner in this headquarters from now on, or you face whatever Gilbert wants to throw at you. You don’t get another chance.”

  ‘‘I’ll try,” Bock said as she stood. “Thanks, Hew.” When he didn’t respond, she turned and quietly left his office.

  As he watched her go, Rochmon had a strange and sudden thought. Why had she told him the meaning of her name? In all the years she’d known him and all the times she had teased him about being the only person who could remember her complete name, she had never given him the slightest hint that it had such a meaning. Why now?

  He made a note to check her personal file again and to request that another in-depth background check be run on her parents. Rochmon didn’t know why he thought that was important, but the decision made him feel better, and that helped him prepare for Admiral Gilbert.

  “The Admiral’s here,” Rochmon’s aide announced a few minutes later.

  “Show him in, Farrandy.”

  “I don’t have much time, Hew,” Josiah Gilbert said as he strode confidently into Rochmon’s office, “so I’m going to give it to you by the book and get out of your way.”

  “By all means, sir, go ahead.” Rochmon could tell that the old man was in no mood for bartering.

  “You will do two things, Hew. You will tell Bock that if I receive one more complaint about her conduct, she will be called back to active duty and then be court-martialed if she so much as blinks in the wrong way. Then you will tell her that as of today she is being placed under restrained movement and will be accompanied all her waking hours when she is not in her office by one or more MGs.”

  “Isn’t that pretty harsh, sir?” Rochmon asked.

  “Yes, it is, Hew. But it was either that or have Stony lock her in the prison over there for ‘disrupting military during wartime.’ Any further questions?”

  “No, sir, I’ll tell her.”

  “Good. Oh, and Hew. Tell her I’m sorry about the MGs.”

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  “Not again,” Sjean said. “Please? Not again.”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Birkie, but there are some things I believe are buried in your subconscious that I have to know, and we just don’t have time to dig it out any other way. Besides, you came through the last brain-search with no trouble. Why are you so afraid of doing it again?”

  “No trouble? You call not being able to sleep more than two or three hours at a time no trouble? You call this constant headache I have no trouble? What’s the matter with you Inspector? Did they make you surrender your compassion when you signed up for Sci-Sec?” This discussion was making Sjean’s low-grade headache turn into a real temple-pounder.

  I didn’t know about your headaches,” Janette lied, “but I doubt if they were caused by the brain-search.”

  “You know damn well they were. I never had these kinds of headaches before that.”

  “I am sorry, Doctor,” Janette said again, “but it has to be done. Please?” She held out her hand. “Don’t make me force you. I told you that an unwilling subject was the most likely to suffer side-effects.”

  Sjean stared at Janette until tears blurred her vision. Reluctantly, she took the Inspector’s hand and followed her down the same hall to the same office where she had gone through it all before.

  When they entered the office, Sjean felt suddenly calm as though a distant voice inside her was telling her everything was going to be all right. She didn’t understand it, but she gave in to it, glad to accept any reassurance.

  Again she lay on the table with the box over her head. Again she felt the burning prick in her arm and heard Janette speak soothingly to her. Again the questions started and the other voice inside her answered them until both of them blurred into quiet nothingness.

  Thel Janette truly felt sorry for Sjean Birkie and wished there had been some other fast way to get the information she needed. Since there was no other way as quick and accurate as this, she had no choice. But that didn’t mean she had to like what she was doing.

  “Dr. Birkie, do you know why the prototype weapon you tested did not function properly?”

  “Did function properly,” Dr. Birkie answered in a slow, thick voice.

  “I don’t understand. The test was a failure. Why do you say the prototype functioned properly?”

  “Wasn’t supposed to work.”

  That startled Janette. She had never suspected that the test was a deception. “Why wasn’t it supposed to work?”

  “Funny. Caugust called it dud, D-U-D, dud.”

  “What does that mean, D-U-D?”

  “He said it. Dud. Daringly Undestructive Device.”

  “You mean it wasn’t a real weapon? Just some piece of junk you put together?” Janette was finding this hard to believe, but if it were tr
ue – no. It couldn’t be true. Why would Drautzlab be willing to enter the auction for a piece of junk?

  “Oh, yes…it was a real…It could have worked.”

  “Why didn’t it work?” Janette pressed. “Why?”

  “Don’t understand. Couldn’t work. Incomplete.”

  “What was missing?”

  Dr. Sjean Birkie giggled. “The detonator. Didn’t have a real detonator. See? Isn’t it funny?”

  Janette bit her tongue to keep herself from giving an answer to that question. It was anything but funny. But she didn’t have time to worry about that. There were two more questions she had to have answers to. “Did you build a real detonator?”

  “Of course.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Secret. Can’t tell. Caugust said hush-hush.”

  “Tell me where it is,” Janette said slowly. “I can keep a secret.”

  “Mmm. All right. Here. It’s here. In the main test lab behind the blast doors.”

  “Just relax and sleep now, Sjean,” Janette said. “Sleep peacefully, and when you wake up, you will feel fine, and your headaches will be all gone. When you wake up tomorrow morning, you will feel healthy and happy, and you will not have any headaches. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes. Sleep. No headaches.”

  Janette patted her arm. “Good. It’s time to sleep now.”

  “Slee-e-e-ep. Goo-o-o-od.”

  As quickly as she could, Janette turned off the equipment and took the head unit off the bed. After covering Dr. Birkie with a light blanket, she dimmed the lights in the office and left in search of Caugust Drautz. She found him in the first place she looked, his office.

  “Have you finished questioning her?” He asked when Janette knocked on his doorframe.

  “Yes. Now I have some questions for you Dr. Drautz.”

  “Like what?”

  Janette knew from the tone of his voice that he was totally on the defensive. “Like why did you use fake equipment when you tested the Ultimate Weapon?”