Maxwell Saga 5: Stoke the Flames Higher

by Peter Grant

  “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Oh, that’s all right. The alternative was to lose a hospital ship and everyone aboard her, so believe me, the Fleet isn’t going to hold it against you! We’ll have you work with the cover-up team, to fabricate suitable details for their report to her owners. Next, there’s your own future. We can’t do much until your court-martial is resolved. Until then, I’ll assign you to my office. The January Staff College course is already full. The next one starts in July, so I’ll book you on that. It lasts a full academic year, after which I’ll send you to the ‘Perisher’, the Fleet Commanding Officers Qualifying Course, to prepare you to command a major vessel or warship. You should have finished both by the end of 2853, after which we’ll see about a combat command for you.”

  Steve flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, sir. I was worried that I might have blotted my copybook on Devakai, what with having to shoot a soldier and a few policemen; but from what you’ve just told me, it doesn’t look that way.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

  Wu was genuinely amused, but he didn’t allow himself to show it. Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell seemed to have no idea of the very high regard in which several senior officers at Athi held him, or the content of their reports about him to the Board of Admiralty. He looked forward to Steve’s reaction when they were made public in due course. His own report about what happened on Devakai would lay all the blame where it was due – on the Kotai rebels.

  “I took the liberty of telling your wife our approximate time of arrival planetside,” he said aloud. “She says she’ll be there to meet you.”

  Steve’s eyes softened. “Thank you, sir. It’ll be wonderful to see her again!”

  January 12, 2852 GSC

  The sedan pulled into a circular driveway, climbing a slight rise to halt in a parking bay to one side of the double front doors of a distinctly upscale home. Steve deactivated the automatic pilot as they got out. Abha reached into the back seat to take out a slightly sleepy six-month-old Henry.

  “I don’t know why that journalist wanted us to bring him to a stranger’s home,” she complained.

  “I don’t either, but I’m sure she had her reasons. We’ll soon find out.”

  A distant doorbell clanged inside as Steve pushed the button. Footsteps approached, and a tall, spare man opened the door. Gray hair topped an austere, craggy face radiating a command presence. His eyes swept over them, and warmed.

  “You must be the Maxwells. Come in.” He ushered them to a drawing-room to the right of the entrance, where a lithe, lissome dark-haired woman was pushing in a tray laden with a tea service. Solveig was seated on the sofa, and stood up as they came in.

  “This is my wife, Diana,” the man introduced the older woman. “I’m Lawton Gallegros. I think you know Miss Soldahl.”

  “We do. I’m Steve, this is my wife Abha, and the youngster is Henry.”

  “How old is he?” Diana came forward eagerly to offer the infant her finger. “May I hold him for a moment? Our children and grandchildren are long since grown, and none of them live near enough for us to enjoy our great-grandchildren as they begin to arrive.”

  “Of course.” Abha handed Henry to her. His eyes were flickering from face to face, his features screwed up a little as if he were concentrating hard. He smiled as Diana stroked his hand, and gurgled happily at her.

  “He’s a cheerful little tyke.”

  “He is. I’m dreading what will happen when he learns to crawl. I’ve got a feeling he’ll be zooming all over the place, like his Marine namesake.”

  “His namesake is why I asked Miss Soldahl to invite you to bring him,” Lawton said as his wife returned the baby and they all sat down. “I’m sorry – that must sound terribly mysterious, but you’ll understand in a moment. Miss Soldahl, you’re the architect of this evening’s meeting, so why don’t you set the scene?”

  “Thank you, sir.” Solveig looked around at everyone as she spoke. “I’ve told Mr. and Mrs. Gallegros everything I know about the death of their grandson.” A shadow seemed to pass across the older couple’s faces, and their formal host-and-hostess manner seemed to dissolve as they reached for each other’s hands. “I also took the liberty of showing Mr. Gallegros the vid I took of how he died. At her request, I didn’t show it to Mrs. Gallegros.”

  “No,” Diana said slowly, a tear appearing in her eye. “I don’t think I could bear to see that.”

  “I think you made the right choice, my dear,” her husband said, stroking the back of her hand. He looked at Steve. “I was a Major in the Marine Corps, and saw combat, so I could look at it more… dispassionately… from that background than someone lacking it.”

  “I understand, sir, but I’m still very sorry that you put yourself through it.”

  The older man shrugged. “He was very dear to us. I had to know. I was… very moved… to witness your farewell to my grandson. I understand you took a signet ring from his finger, to return to his parents.”

  “Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, Solveig asked me to bring it tonight. Peter’s parents live on another planet, so I have to wait until they’ve been officially informed, then arrange to ship it to them.”

  “That’s right. His mother is our Consul-General on Flemington. May I see it?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Steve took it from his pocket and handed it over, grateful he’d had it professionally cleaned as soon as he got back to Lancaster. Peter’s dried blood had been all over it.

  Lawton took it in his hand, looking down at it. “May I keep this, to return to Peter’s father and mother? I promise you, I’ll take even better care of it than you would.”

  “Of course, sir. I’m sure that will be in order.”

  “Thank you very much.” The older man handed it to his wife, who held it for a moment before returning it. He slipped it into his jacket pocket. “I don’t mind admitting that your kiss on Peter’s forehead brought tears to my eyes. You said you’d name your next son for him. Did you mean that?”

  “Oh, yes,” Abha said with utter conviction. “Steve’s already talked to me about it, and I’ve agreed. Henry is named for a Marine who served alongside Steve on Eskishi a couple of years ago. He was killed in action. Steve nominated him for the Lancastrian Star of Valor. It’s going to be presented to his parents on Cassius later this month.”

  “I read about that last month, when they announced his award. That was Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear, if I recall correctly.”

  “That’s right, sir,” Steve confirmed. “We both felt that since he put his life on the line for my sake, we should honor his memory in our son. I was very happy with the idea, and when Peter died, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to promise him the same thing. We’re already working on that.” He grinned at his wife and winked, and she blushed.

  Diana laughed for the first time. “Commander, that’s terrible! Don’t embarrass her like that!”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” Abha reassured her, still blushing a little. “I’d like to have another child this year. Both of us are orphans, and when we married, I made Steve promise we’d have a big family. I don’t know why, but I feel that’s important, almost as if it compensates for growing up in an orphanage without siblings.”

  Steve nodded. “We’re going to shoot for at least half a dozen kids, if not more. Thankfully, we were both fortunate in prize money at Rolla five years ago, so we can afford them.”

  “Both of you? Your wife was also in the Fleet?” Lawton asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Abha replied. “I ended my service as a First Lieutenant in the Marines, before entering university to study medicine. I’ll graduate this year, do my internship, then study pediatric medicine.”

  “Then you and I are veterans of the same service. I’m very glad to know that.” He hesitated. “May I ask a favor? If you name a future son of yours for our grandson, may we see him from time to time? We’d like to be abl
e to tell him about the man for whom he was named.”

  Steve reacted instinctively. He liked the way this man came across; his obviously commanding presence, but also his warm humanity, and his wife’s grace. “I have a better idea, sir,” he said seriously. “As Abha said, both of us are orphans, and only children to boot. We and our children have no extended family, apart from our best friends, who live with us. If you’d like to be part of young Peter’s upbringing in due course, and perhaps also his brothers and sisters, you could be honorary grandparents to them all. We’d both greatly appreciate it.”

  Diana had to wipe her eyes as tears came to them. “That would be so wonderful! We could remember Peter in his namesake, and help all of them grow into the kind of people he’d be proud of. Please, darling, let’s do it?”

  “Of course.” Lawton’s eyes were also moist, although he held himself under firm control. “We’ll be proud and honored to be part-time, substitute grandparents to him and his siblings. Thank you very much indeed, Commander.”

  “The pleasure will be all ours, sir.”

  Lawton looked at Solveig. “I suppose this is why you suggested that Mrs. Maxwell should bring her youngest son with her?”

  “Yes, sir. I felt it would help establish a bond between you, what with his being named for a Marine as well.”

  “It was a very good idea. I wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but it’s turned into a blessing for all of us.”

  “For me, too, sir,” she assured him. “I’m very glad things have worked out like this; but there are still two important issues I need to discuss with all of you. First, Commander, I know something of what’s been happening about Peter Gallegros’ award. May I summarize what I know, in case any of it is news to you?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Solveig laid out the bare bones of the conflict between the Secretariat of State and the Department of Defense. “I’ve been asking questions behind the scenes. I won’t say who I’ve talked to, but it seems this Anthony Beauvoir is at the root of the fuss. He believes that if Peter Gallegros gets the Cross of Valor, it’ll somehow reflect favorably on you, Commander, because you nominated him for it. He’s still trying to clear his reputation from the effects of his protégé’s mishandling of the Eskishi affair. You came out of that smelling like a rose. If you come out of this incident looking even better, he’s afraid it may undermine his position even more.

  “He’s angry with Marisela for talking to me about you in a place where it could be recorded, which led to you finding out about him. He’s protesting that since the original Devakai recordings were lost aboard your ship, it’ll be unfair to proceed with an inquiry, because he can’t defend himself by challenging the original evidence. He says your copy of the recording isn’t trustworthy. What he’s implying, of course, is that you aren’t trustworthy. I might have fallen for that once, but after having spent so much time with you, I know better.”

  Steve smiled. “Thank you.”

  She shrugged. “At any rate, to divert attention from himself, Mr. Beauvoir is raising all sorts of objections to Peter receiving any award at all. He says he broke Departmental policy, first by helping you fight those Kotai agents at the residence, and then by accepting a gun from you to help fight our way out of Gangai. He claims those errors of judgment negated his ‘so-called heroism’, because the need for it would never have arisen if the delegation had stayed put. He says they might have been detained for a short while, but the authorities were sure to have released them. The Kotai wouldn’t have dared to violate their diplomatic immunity, despite threats to the contrary, because they needed the aid the UP had offered.”

  Steve felt his anger rising, and forced control upon himself. “I don’t need to tell you what I think about such nonsense,” he said shortly. “I’ve already told my superiors that I won’t accept any award higher than whatever Peter gets. If he gets nothing, I won’t accept anything.”

  “That was very good of you,” Lawton said softly. “However, what if someone wearing stars on his epaulettes orders you to accept whatever they decide to give you, and stop making a fuss about our grandson?”

  “I’ll obey orders and accept the medal, sir. The day after they pin it on me, I’ll resign my commission. The day after my resignation takes effect, I’ll call a press conference. I’ll announce publicly that I’m returning the medal, and why. I’ll describe what Peter did, and condemn the travesty of justice that’s been perpetrated against him.”

  “You realize you’ll be a marked man if you do that?”

  “Yes, sir, but it’s a matter of principle. If worse comes to worst, there are a few planets where I’m well thought of – Rolla and Karabak, for a start.” He smothered a grin as he decided it would be best not to mention Qianjin, home planet of the Dragon Tong, largest and most feared criminal organization in the settled galaxy. He was sure to get a very warm welcome there, too. “We can make a fresh start on one of them.”

  “You could try Devakai, after it’s cleaned up,” Solveig suggested impishly.

  Everyone laughed at the expression of revulsion on Steve’s face. “No, thank you! That place has altogether too many nasty memories – and too many Kotai sympathizers!”

  “I wish more people thought as you did,” Lawton said. “I pride myself on being a man of principle, too. It led me into more than a few bureaucratic scrapes of my own, but fortunately I prevailed in all of them. Give me a moment to think.”

  He was silent for a little while, then began to smile. “Commander, let me give you a little background. I left the Marine Corps as a Major, and entered the diplomatic service. Over the course of more than forty years with the Department of State, I ended up as a Permanent Under-Secretary, one of three civil servants reporting directly to the Secretary of State. It’s a very senior position, more so than the one Mr. Beauvoir now occupies. For the last ten years, I’ve been running my own consultancy business, specializing in interplanetary political and economic relations. Several of the top companies in the Commonwealth keep me on retainer, and I’m a member of the Group of 100, which I understand you know well.”

  “Yes, sir.” Steve grinned as he recalled the large, very influential private investment group that had decided to hold its annual gathering at Rolla five years before – just in time to run into pirates, intent on kidnapping its members for ransom. He and Abha had helped foil their plans, killing most of them in the process.

  “Good. I’ve also been approached on several occasions to run for office as a Senator of the Commonwealth, although I haven’t yet agreed. Given that background and level of influence, would you be willing to let me deal with Mr. Beauvoir? Don’t say anything to anyone, and don’t mention that we’ve discussed it. On the Fleet side, I’ll have a quiet word with retired Admiral Methuen, whom I understand you both know from your time at Rolla,” – Steve and Abha nodded enthusiastically – “then I’ll call in a couple of favors I’m owed. If Mr. Beauvoir wants to play departmental politics and bureaucratic hardball, I’ve done so a lot longer than he has – and, I dare say, more successfully.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll leave it in your hands.”

  “Thank you. Miss Soldahl, I think there was another point you wanted to discuss.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s a sensitive issue. You saw the vid I took of your grandson’s death. I have more of the fighting on Athi, including the incident in which Major Shelby was injured. Some of his Marines made it available to me from their armor recorders. I’m preparing an hour-long documentary about my – our – recent experiences. I won’t go into detail, but it’s already the subject of a bidding war. It’ll probably sell for a great deal of money. I won’t keep any of it for myself. I’m donating all of it to help the families of the Fleet’s Marines and Spacers who were killed at Athi.” She looked at Steve. “I suppose you could call it an expiation, if you like.”

  He nodded. “I think that’s a very appropriate gesture. Thank you.”

  “Thanks for understanding. It’ll b
e broadcast towards the end of this month, I think. The question is, should I include those scenes in the documentary? They’ll make it more real, and much more powerful, but they’re very graphic. After you wouldn’t watch the vid of your grandson’s death, Mrs. Gallegros, I wondered about the families of those who died. They might have the same reaction. Your husband is a former Marine and a combat veteran, so he was better prepared for what he saw, but most of the families won’t be. I need your advice.”

  “Don’t use them,” Steve said without hesitation. “Brooks’ wife and children live with us. I can tell you right now, if they see that, they’ll never get over it. No. Absolutely not. Those Marines should never have made their armor recordings available to you. If I’d known, I’d have brought charges against them. Don’t use the vid of Peter’s death, either. His parents might never get over that. If you simply must show it, blank out all the gory details.”

  “I agree,” Lawton said firmly. “That’s the reason the Department of Defense doesn’t normally make such images available. It’s unbearably traumatic for the families of the dead and wounded. Please don’t use them, Miss Soldahl; or, if you must use some, obscure all the nastier details. Otherwise, it’ll cause far more harm than good.”

  “Very well. That’s the input I needed. There’s a common saying in the news media that ‘if it bleeds, it leads’; but I’ve come to respect Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell very highly, and I know your reputation, Mr. Gallegros. I’ll be guided by your judgment. I’ll hand over the Marines’ recordings to the Department of Defense, and ask their permission to use whatever’s suitable.”

  “Thank you.” Lawton glanced at Steve. “I understand you’re to stand trial next month for the loss of your ship?”