Double Spiral War Trilogy

by Warren Norwood

  “Is Historian Weecs present?” a voice asked from the main entrance.

  “Is the new Proctor here?” asked another.

  “I am here,” Weecs answered.

  “Take your place,” Leri hissed.

  Reluctantly, Weecs slithered up on the dais and coiled himself into the position of formal greeting.

  “The old Proctor is gone,” Leri said as the first of the Council members entered the chamber. “The new Proctor is waiting.” Their chant of “Weecs, Weecs, Weecs,” echoed behind her as she slithered out a side tunnel and left that chamber for good. Instead of the relief she had anticipated she felt only a strange numbness. But that didn’t stop her from gong to her new home with her favorite Confidante.

  Leri had never heard of anyone living with a Confidante, but when her favorite had asked, “Can you not live here?” she had quickly assented. There was no place else she would rather be. When she arrived, the Confidante asked, “Is it done?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Weecs is Proctor, and I am free.”

  “Can you listen to me before you rest?”

  Leri thought the question a strange one. “Yes Confidante I can listen.”

  “Is your faith in the Elett strong?”

  “My faith is strong.”

  “Can you hear the truth?”

  “You know me, Confidante,” Leri said, staring up at its wrinkled bulk in the dim light. “Why do you ask these things?”

  “Can you hear the truth?” The Confidante repeated.

  “I can hear the truth,” she answered impatiently.

  “Your decision was correct. Weecs will deal properly with the Verfen, and Cloise will be safe for all time.”

  Leri was so shocked to hear her Confidante make not one statement but three that when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. It must be a great truth for a Confidante to phrase it in a statement rather than a question. Such was the lesson she had learned so long before from the only human document she had ever found of value: the only true statements were absolute presuppositions, the bedrocks of one belief. All other statements were actually questions in disguise. For the first time since she had assumed the duties of Proctor thousands of seasons ago, Leri felt truly at peace with herself and her world.

  25

  DESPITE THE UNANTICIPATED EXIT FROM SUBSPACE, following Teeman’s ship into this system had been easy. Now Janette was faced with the problem of locating Xindella – and what to do when she found him.

  She had only caught a fragment of his last transmission to Teeman and Yednoshpfa, but it was enough to tell her that Xindella’s ship had some major problem with his Gouldrive. He had put down somewhere on the surface of a small planet, and from the cratering she saw, Janette guessed that the planet had little, if any, atmosphere. That pleased her, because a lack of atmosphere would complicate any external repairs Xindella and Wallen might have to make and thus give her more time to decide what she should do next.

  The Ukes had apparently overshot the system, and Janette hoped they were so far past that they’d never find their way back. For the moment, anyway, they were at the bottom of her list of problems.

  “In order,” she said aloud. “First I find the Profit, then land close enough to get to it on foot with sufficient air in my suitpack to return to the LPR. Then I have to gain access to the Profit, subdue Xindella and Wallen, hike back to the LPR, move it as close as possible to Profit, and transfer the weapon to the LPR. Nothing to it, girl,” she said with mocking chuckle. “Won’t require anything more than several minor miracles to pull this off.

  “Find the Profit first, and maybe by then something else will occur to you…Damn! Bad enough to be talking to myself, but to address me in the third person is sick.”

  With a little growl she reached inside her jumpsuit and adjusted her booster strap. Her breasts just weren’t comfortable in gravity without a booster, and her shoulders weren’t comfortable with one. If her stomach hadn’t disliked weightlessness so much, she would have done away with the artificial gravity and taken her booster off.

  On Patros she had almost purchased a booster with little countergravs – micro versions of the ones used in skimmers – under the cups, but the gadgetry had made it too expensive, and she had told herself it was a luxury, not a necessity. Instead she had treated herself to a fancy, but considerably less expensive spider-lace booster, and of course it had straps that cut into her shoulders, and now she wished she had bought the expensive one.

  “Quit it,” she said. “You’re getting a little weird in your old age, Thel. Instead of worrying about your booster, you should be figuring out the shortest series of orbits around that rock that will let you cover it all and find Xindella.” She switched on the Orbit and Landing Program and began feeding in the information it would need to calculate her search pattern.

  Once the last datum was in and the OALP began processing the information, she leaned back, unconsciously reached inside her jumpsuit, and adjusted her booster strap.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Whatever eagerness he might have had to see General Schopper had been rattled out of him by the shuttle ride from his troop transport to the Walker. The first thing he wanted to do now was relax and rinse his mouth with something more potent than water. But as he stepped through the lock, the boarding officer waved him aside.

  “Chief Stanmorton?” “That’s me, Lieutenant.”

  “General Schopper sends his compliments and asks you to join him for dinner in the senior wardroom at twenty-hundred hours.’’

  “Ship time?” Henley asked. “What time is it now?”

  “Nineteen-fifteen, sir,”

  “Well, point me toward my cabin, young lady, so I can at least change uniforms.”

  “Watch Mate,” the lieutenant said to a round young woman across the companionway, “takes the Chief and his kit to number seventeen on the brass deck.”

  “You must have a shortage of goldsleeves aboard,” Henley said. “Never bunked on the brass deck before.”

  “Follow me, sir,” the Watch Mate said, taking his main kit bag and starting up a ladder. Up four ladders, then down a long companionway she opened a cabin door.

  “Thanks, Mate,” Henley said as he entered the cabin. Whatever luxury he had expected on the brass deck wasn’t evident in this cabin. The only thing it had was a little more space than his previous cabins on lower decks and its own toiletcleanser-sink combination.

  “There you go, sir,” the Mate said, putting his kit bag in a locker beside the bunk.

  “Which way to the senior wardroom?”

  She looked pensive for a second. “Don’t get up there much sir but it should be left down the companionway to the butt, then right and up the next ladder you see.”

  As soon as she left, Henley started to undress. Then he saw the message on the tiny fold-down desk. He opened it quickly and sighed when he read it. Kryki Kinderman had blown his way out of prison, and Fleet Military Guard wanted Henley to tell them anything he could about Kinderman as soon as possible.

  Henley wearily finished getting undressed, stepped into the cleanser, turned on its hot jets of water, and allowed himself the privilege of just standing there for a few minutes before scrubbing down. It was the first time in fifty days he had felt truly clean. He wondered what Kryki was doing now and where he could be hiding. One more thing to worry about, he thought as he reluctantly put an end to his long rinse. Only then did he realize he hadn’t gotten a towel out of his kit. To his surprise a big disposable towel popped out of the wall beside the cleanser as soon as he had turned the water off. Twenty minutes later and barely on time, he presented himself at the senior wardroom.

  “Chief on the deck,” the spacer at the door announced.

  There were only seven or eight people in the wardroom, and Henley didn’t see General Schopper, but to his great surprise he did see Mica Gilbert.

  Mica smiled and motioned for Henley to join her. As he crossed the room, she wasn’t at all surprised by
how pleased she was to see him.

  “How’s my former aide?” he asked Mica.

  “Glad she’s not your aide any longer,” Mica said. “I understand you were dirtside on Terratane.”

  Henley laughed. “That I was, but after the skirmish when we landed, it wasn’t bad at all.” His laughter died quickly. “It was a pretty bloody skirmish, though.”

  “That’s what we heard,” Mica said. “General Schopper should be here shortly. Did you stay with Colonel Longrivia’s unit the whole time you were down there?”

  “That I did. She’s a hard-core commander, Mica, and her X.O. is even tougher. But in that situation no one complained.”

  “Hard-core? That’s a word I’m not familiar with.”

  “Old word I picked up from a dictionary somewhere. Means determined and unshakable, I believe. The modern term is –“

  “Windfall?” Mica offered.

  “Yeh, I think so. Now, may I ask you a question? What are your duties now?”

  “I’m Schopper’s new fleet liaison officer. What are you doing here?” That wasn’t what she really wanted to ask him, but the other questions that were boiling up inside her would have to wait until they had some private time together.

  “You know me. I’m just an old Teller looking for a story.”

  He decided there was no point in mentioning Kryki’s break-out to her. What did she care about a mad poet?

  “General on the deck,” the spacer at the door announced. “Good to see you, sir,” Henley said as he and Mica both saluted Schopper.

  “And you, Chief. I hope you’re both hungry.”

  “For news and food.”

  “As we eat,” Schopper said, motioning them to a table, “I’ll give you some news for the record. Then, if you’re interested, I’ll give you a lot more off the record.”

  “Interested?” Mica said. “He’d rather get that than eat.”

  “Both, Mica. I was smart and didn’t eat before I got on the shuttle, and now I’m famished.” He saw the puzzled looks on both their faces. “Another old word. Means ready to eat everything in sight,” he said with a laugh.

  Mica enjoyed seeing him laugh. His good humor made her feel even better for some reason. Whatever it was, she was glad to be with him and was determined to make sure they had the time and opportunity for a long talk.

  The food was served quickly and without much flair by two young spacers, but the hot food was steaming, and the cold food looked as if it had come straight from the icer. “Eat, Schopper said. “That’s pepper-grilled thighback with broiled onions and star-bird gravy.”

  “Is that on the record, or off?” Henley asked as he cut a piece of the thighback. When he put it in his mouth, he winked at Mica, then quickly cautioned himself not to let what he felt about her become too obvious. But there was no denying that her presence had triggered a sense of peace and contentment in him.

  “For you,” Schopper said with a smile, “on the record.”

  “It is delicious,” Mica said.

  “The secret’s in the gravy and the peppering.”

  “It certainly is delicious,” Henley said as he finished chewing the tender meat, “but if that’s secret information, how can it be on the record?”

  “Henley! What is the matter with you?” Mica asked.

  Schopper grinned at her and then at Henley. “He’s just battle-addled. Occupational hazard for noncombatants.

  “Shuttle-addled is more like it, sir. Shuttles and weightlessness are my least favorite parts of any trip.”

  “Amen.”

  “You, too, General?” Henley asked. “That surprises me.”

  ‘’I’m strictly a dirtside general, or waterside, given where we’re going next.”

  “Thayne-G?”

  “Tell him, Captain.”

  ‘’You guessed right, Henley. The water planets of Thayne-G are our next targets, and they will be much more difficult than Terratane if only because the troops will have to contend with Ukes spread out on islands.”

  “So they’ll have to hop from island to island,” Henley said. “Well, sir, that just adds to your new nickname. The troops are already calling you General Schopper the Planet Hopper.”

  Schopper smiled. “Thayne-G is for the record. The rest of what I’m about to tell you is off the record, and even with that…restriction I can’t give you many details, so don’t even ask”

  Henley nodded as he chewed another piece of thigh back.

  “Were the center zone of attack,” Schopper said. “As we hit Thayne-G, at least two other strike forces will be attacking the Ukes or Uke-controlled systems.”

  “Sounds pretty ambitious, sir,” Henley said after swallowing quickly. “I didn’t think we had the ships for that kind of offensive.”

  “No one thinks we do,” Mica said, “including the Ukes.”

  “And that’s why it will work. The only other thing I can tell you,” Schopper continued, “is that if you stick with the Three-Seventy-First Legion, you won’t miss much of the action in this zone – and that’s all I can tell you at the moment.”

  “Can I ask you about something else?”

  “Certainly, but I may not be able to answer.”

  “I understand that, sir.” Henley took a drink of his tea and set the cup down carefully. “I picked up a rumor from the shuttle pilot before we left. He said the Castorians have been secretly, working for us and that they’re about to openly-”

  “Don’t know anything about the aliens,” Schopper said quickly, “and if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Is that a nonaffirmation affirmation?” Henley asked.

  “It is exactly what General Schopper said. Now let’s finish eating before our food gets cold.”

  Following Mica’s suggestion, they finished the meal with only general conversation about the success on Terratane and the minimal Uke resistance there and in the rest of the Ivy Chain. As their sweet liquor was served, Schopper waved his off.

  “Sorry, but I have to get back to work. You two enjoy yourselves. Check with me after sixth watch, Mica.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Don’t get up,” Schopper said as he stood. Then he left.

  Henley suddenly realized that he and Mica were the only two officers remaining in the wardroom. He raised his glass to her. “To Schopper,” he said.

  She touched her glass to hers. “To Schopper,” she repeated.

  As soon as they both set their empty glasses down, Henley said, “I could stand some exercise after that meal. You?”

  “Yes How about a walk around the exercise deck?”

  “I think we’ve been there before.” He smiled. “But you’ll have to lead the way from here.”

  Mica had a strange feeling as they walked down two ladders to the exercise deck and was pleased that the deck appeared to be deserted. For a minute or so they walked in silence.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Mica asked.

  “Gets stiff in the mornings, but otherwise it seems to be completely healed. Hard to believe that the last time we saw each other were right here and I had my arm in a sling.”

  “Not hard to believe at all, Henley. That’s why I suggested it.” She hesitated. “I want to pick up where we left off.”

  “We left off with you going away,” Henley said. “I hope--”

  “Where we left our conversation. You remember, don’t you?”

  “Distinctly, Mica.” Henley glanced intently at her as she walked beside him. “But I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Again Mica hesitated. “I want to talk about us, Henley, you and me. I’ve learned a lot about myself since then, and I’ve clarified how I feel about you.”

  “Which you told your father, but not me,” Henley said teasingly.

  She stopped and put her hand on his arm, making him look directly at her. She knew if she was going to tell him what she felt, this was the time. “Yes, Henley, I told my father. I told him that I love you.”

  “Mic
a, I…” Henley didn’t know – “Mica, words are my livelihood, and I don’t know what to say to you. I care a great deal about you, but I don’t know if I can love anyone…at least not the way I think you mean it.”

  His words settled heavily around her heart, but she knew instinctively that words didn’t matter. “I understand, Henley. I’m not asking for what you think. I’m offering you my love and myself. All I want...is for you to accept me, just like this, with the love I have for you. That’s all.”

  Henley took her hands in his, looked into her saw a warmth there he had dared not even dream “Mica, it’s been a long, long time since anyone has made me feel this good, but I don’t think it’s love, not yet, and I can’t promise you that what I feel will turn into love.” He saw the tears filling her eyes and knew he was hurting her.

  “I’m not asking for promises,” she said as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just want you to accept what I want to give you –what I need to give you. Please. Can’t you at do that?”

  “It’s hard,” feeling the moistness in his own eyes. “I’ve never had a relationship where someone loved me more than I loved them. It’s always been the other way around.”

  “Take a chance,” she said, smiling through her tears.

  “I can’t,” he said, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms, around her, “not yet. Later maybe. When the war’s over.”

  “That’s what I said the last time,” she whispered.

  “I know. I know. But I think we have to wait.”

  For several minutes they held each other and wept quiet tears, neither of them fully understanding why.

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  Delightful Childe smiled with pleasure, gratification, and relief as the Tender severed the umbilical cord that attached him to his son. It had taken much longer than the normal year to reach this moment. Nindoah blamed his involvement with the complicated duties he had to perform, but he felt she had made it all the more complicated by her demands.

  Now it was finally over, and he would no longer have to listen to Nindoah’s constant complaints, her interruptions when he was conducting business, and her intrusion on his meditations. In the name of all that was holy she had tried his patience and his body, and he was grateful that his obligation was at an end.