In the Stormy Red Sky-ARC

by David Drake

  "Yes, I'm sure Officer Mundy will be able to solve this, gentlemen," Daniel said. "I'm afraid the solution comes at what you will consider a heavy price, Colonel, but sometimes that's the way. Military men like you and me are used to paying heavy prices, aren't we?"

  He gave Stockheim a hard smile. "I'll summon her immediately."

  The freighter's boarding ramp loomed before them as they splashed across the harbor. "Hang on tight!" called Dasi, the driver—the coxswain?—of the amphibious truck. Adele gripped her bench, but Barnes, seated inside her, reached around with both arms and clamped his hands on the sidewall.

  "Yee-hah!" the two riggers cried together. The front pair of the vehicle's six wheels jolted onto the ramp in a spray of water and unidentifiable flotsam. The tires gripped and the truck continued to crawl the rest of the way up. The water-jet in the stern whirred till the middle wheels were clear also.

  "That's far enough!" Daniel shouted from the entry hatch. He circled his index finger at Dasi before making a chopping gesture.

  Whether or not Dasi heard the words, he knew what his captain had in mind. He swung the truck broadside to the slope and brought it creaking to a halt. The fins of the idling diesel rang like an ill-tuned wind chime.

  "See, safe as houses, ma'am!" Barnes said, beaming as he stood and swung up the half-hatch behind them. "Here, let me get the steps."

  "I could probably get out without breaking my neck, Barnes," Adele said with a tinge of irritation, but that wasn't fair. Probably, yes, but by no means certainly. The crew knew that their captain demanded that Adele certainly not break her neck.

  Since Adele's earliest days with the RCN, Woetjans had made her safety the responsibility of Barnes and Dasi. There was no question that the common spacers respected Adele, but they also considered her—to quote Daniel, a countryman to the bone—as awkward as a hog on ice.

  She felt herself grin as she dismounted from the vehicle, holding her case of specialized equipment in her left hand. Daniel caught the expression and said, "Officer Mundy?"

  "I was wondering, Captain," Adele said, "whether I could find imagery of a hog on ice. I wasn't raised on a farm, you see."

  "Umm," said Daniel, deadpan. "I have a trained librarian on my staff, Mundy. I'll set her to the problem as soon as she's completed her current tasks. I'm glad to see you made it safely."

  "So am I," said Adele. "Though drowning is supposed to be a relatively painless way to die."

  Tovera got out on the other side. She swung down one-handed, holding her case—which on the outside was deceptively similar to Adele's—by the other. The vehicle stood high enough on its all-terrain tires. Adele had to admit that the Dasi's support really was helpful, since she didn't intend to let her code breaking paraphernalia out of her hand.

  "I noticed that. May I ask, Dasi," said Daniel, his tone making it clear that he was asking and that he'd have an answer, too, "why the bloody hell you didn't bring Officer Mundy by the concrete esplanade?"

  "Chief Pasternak said there's two of these cars on a cruiser's complement," Dasi said, grinding his right boot toe onto the ramp. "But nobody's tried them out on water yet, so Barnes and me thought . . ."

  Both riggers looked off into the sky at angles.

  "Use better judgment in the future, spacers," Daniel said quietly. "I know you wouldn't survive the loss of Officer Mundy, so I won't offer any pointless threats. But use better judgment."

  "Sorry, Six," Dasi muttered to empty air. Barnes scowled and nodded, fiercely in both instances.

  "Come," said Adele, her tone sharpened by embarrassment. "Let's get to the matter at hand."

  With Daniel in the hatchway were Cory, a barbaric-looking spacer, and a very fit older man in battledress. The last wore a large pistol with a fold-down front grip in a belt holster; it was either fully automatic or it threw a much heavier slug than most handguns.

  Adele smiled faintly. If you put most rounds in your target's eye, you could generally make do with a pocket pistol.

  "My name's Haugen," said the spacer, "and the Spezza's mine—mine and my uncles'. If you can get us on our way, Mundy, there'll be a bottle of something choice for you."

  He turned and started across the entrance hold. "And you, Leary," he added over his shoulder.

  "Wait a minute," said Stockheim with growing anger. "Leary, what do you mean by this? Both of these persons are female!"

  Daniel and the Hydriote continued walking. Adele had no intention of responding—she was aboard ship by invitation of its captain and by Daniel's orders. But—

  "Technically you might be correct, Colonel Stockheim," Tovera said. "But please don't let your hormones lead you into unprofessional conduct."

  "What!" said Stockheim. The exclamation was no more a question than that of a man who's set his hand on a hot burner.

  "Tovera is my assistant, Colonel," Adele said, following the two captains onto the bridge. "I choose—" she wasn't going to lie for this purpose and claim Tovera's presence was necessary "—to have her with me."

  Stockheim crossed his hands behind his back. He stood as stiffly as if he were before a firing squad, but he met Adele's eyes. "Captain Leary has already pointed out to me that beggars can't be choosers," he said. "And I mean no offense to you personally, Officer Mundy. It's just that we of the Brotherhood regard women as occasions of sin."

  Another spacer was seated at the right-hand console. He rose with an ill-natured grunt when Haugen jerked a thumb in his direction, and Adele sat down in his place.

  Adele took a chip from her case and inserted it into a slot beside the one holding the route pack. On her way to the transport she'd been discussing the problem with Cory over an intercom channel, using the Milton herself as a base unit. She had a pretty good idea which key would provide the solution; but if not, she had several hundred alternatives already prepared.

  "You needn't worry, Colonel," she said as the console worked. It was slower than a first-line RCN unit, but no computer which could handle astrogation could be called slow. "I assure you that I have no more inclination toward sin, as you put it, than this console does."

  She patted the fascia plate with her right hand.

  "So you may as well disregard my gender, just as I do."

  Having finished linking the console to her personal data unit, Adele leaned back and watched its display form. She preferred to use her wands for control; but more important in this instance, she could set the hologram so that it was focused only for her own eyes. She didn't want the others, particularly Stockheim, to know that she was sweeping up all the information in the Spezza's system, but neither did she want to seem obviously secretive.

  Stockheim snorted, but he didn't speak.

  "You travel with twenty-three women, Colonel, Tovera said. Her voice sounded like scales rustling on a slate floor. "They're in the warehouse with your troops right now. According to the manifest, you left a twenty-fourth woman behind on Brightsky when she broke her leg in a fall."

  "You hellspawn!" Stockheim said, and everything moved very quickly. Stockheim stepped forward, his right hand rising. He slammed chest to chest into Daniel, who hadn't been there a moment before, and bounced back.

  Cory grabbed Stockheim's right arm; Stockheim twitched like a dog shaking and flung the midshipman against a bulkhead. Haugen pricked the back of the colonel's neck with his dagger and shouted, "Enough! This is my bloody bridge! All of you, enough!"

  Stockheim turned without jerking his head away. The dagger-point nicked his ruddy-brown skin before Haugen drew it back.

  "Your pardon, Captain," the soldier said in a rusty voice. "You are of course right; this is your bridge."

  "And the lady's right about the manifest," said Haugen, thrusting the dagger back into his sash with a quick enthusiasm that should've ripped the fabric if it didn't split the pelvis besides. "Which is no secret to anybody who wants to look it up at port control. So I don't see why you'd be flying hot anyhow, eh?"

  Adele slipped the pistol b
ack into her pocket, then picked up the wand she'd dropped onto the floor. She returned to the encrypted data, breathing through her open mouth. With luck no one was paying attention to her.

  Well, no one who didn't know her already. She always forgot how quick Daniel was until she saw him move again in a crisis.

  Tovera provoked this because she was angry, Adele thought. But she shouldn't be able to feel anger any more than she could feel love. Could a sociopath really learn to be human?

  "The women, as you put it," said Stockheim, facing the empty corridor, "are a detachment of Intercessors. Their purpose, their vocation, is to bring the individual Brethren in touch with Godhead as required by our humanity."

  His eyes swept the others on the bridge; Adele was watching through a pickup in the other console so that she didn't appear to be involved in the discussion. Stockheim was both angry and defensive, but he'd brought his emotions back under tight rein.

  "The Brothers of Amorgos aren't saints," he said. "We're men as the Gods made all men: sinful. If you want to mock us for being as you are, do so. We'll continue to do our duty, regardless of laughter and insult."

  "No one's mocking, Colonel," Daniel said, rubbing his chest with the fingers of his left hand. The two men had collided like tree trunks in a windstorm . . . though it was the soldier who'd recoiled. "We're here to help you, after all."

  Adele removed her key and replaced it carefully in the attaché case. She rose from the console, aware that all present were looking at her.

  "I believe that will take care of the problem, Captain Haugen," she said, bowing slightly. "I've recopied the navigational instructions in clear onto the same chip. You'll be able to access them normally."

  "And the other folder that your Cory said was on the chip?" the Hydriote said. "What of that?"

  Adele shrugged. "It's still there," she said. "The material didn't appear to involve your vessel, so I left it as it was."

  "Then I think we've accomplished what we set out to do," Daniel said, giving everyone a broad smile. "Officer Mundy, your vehicle appears to have ample room for me and the midshipmen as well, so I think we'll all return to the Millie together."

  "If I may ask a favor, Captain?" Adele said. "There's a large public garden at the eastern jaw of this harbor; I'd very much like to see it this morning. If you have time, I'd appreciate it if you could give me some pointers from your background in natural history."

  "I'd be pleased to, Mundy," Daniel said. "We should have an interesting discussion."

  His expression hadn't changed in any identifiable fashion, but something about it now reminded Adele of the touch of her pistol's grip.

  CHAPTER 9

  Ravenny Gardens, Hereward on Paton

  The gateway with Ravenny Gardens worked into the top of the arch was made to look like wrought iron, but when Adele tapped it with her knuckles, she found that it was extruded plastic she expected. A sign beside the entrance read A gift from the Associated Garden Clubs of Paton, in honor of their late founder, Dolores Ravenny. This really was wood, and the paint had flaked badly.

  Barnes reversed the amphibious vehicle, then snorted back down the street toward the dock area with his partner and the two midshipmen. Daniel watched them go with his usual mild smile.

  "This is quite a pleasant neighborhood," he said. "Not at all the view that a spacer normally gets of a port city, I'm afraid."

  "Yes, I suppose it is," Adele said. She'd checked slant imagery of the district before she picked the gardens as the venue for her discussion, but all that had really impressed itself on her was the fact it was suitably private. Out of politeness, she looked around her now.

  The two and three-story frame houses were spacious by the standards of Xenos, where land was at a premium. Each sat in its own lot, set off from its neighbors and the street by waist-high hedges or occasionally a fence of wooden pickets.

  Adele returned her attention to where it needed to be. "The east edge of the gardens overlooks the open sea," she said. She was uncomfortable with what she'd just learned in the Spezza. It wasn't unusually awful as such things went, but she didn't know what to do about it.

  The easy solution, of course, was to do nothing. That came naturally to Adele Mundy, who was more interested in knowledge than people. She wasn't sure it was the right answer here, however, so she was deferring the decision to Daniel.

  Besides, Adele found herself caring more about people than she had for the first fifteen years after the massacre of her family. Either she was allowing her emotions to resurface or—

  She smiled wryly.

  —like Tovera, she was training herself into a series of behavior patterns which others would read as emotions. Either way, it eased life within society.

  The gates were open, but a caretaker in a white—whitish—jacket got to his feet as Adele and Daniel entered. Tovera was a pace behind, moving her eyes more often than her head, but turning her head frequently as well.

  "Sir?" said the caretaker. "Sorry, we're closed except for the workmen. We'll open again for the Promenade at nine."

  Adele took out her data unit, casting around for a place to use it. There were benches along the path ten yards in, but if she wanted to sit without getting past the caretaker, the best alternative was moist ground covered with russet tendrils like fur. They would probably stain badly.

  A lace-winged insect landed on her wrist. She flicked it off.

  "Here you are, my good man," Daniel said cheerfully. He spun a florin toward the caretaker. Sunlight caught the coin at the top of its arc, flashing from the ruby hologram within the central crystal. "We won't get in the way of your people, I promise you. Setting up for the Promenade, you mean?"

  "Why, thank you, sir!" said the caretaker, turning the coin over in his fingers. Adele had noticed before that Cinnabar coinage—holograms within silvery rims—had a flashy presence beyond its actual value. At that, a florin was worth about half a day's wage in the scrip passing current on Paton. "Yes, the Promenade, every tennight. Ah, if you'll be careful, then, I guess it can't hurt anything."

  Smiling pleasantly, Daniel led them briskly past lest the fellow change his mind. Tried to change his mind, Adele suspected, but it was better to avoid a problem than to deal with one that'd arisen.

  Adele grimaced at her data unit. She couldn't use it unless they stopped, which would be a foolish thing to do for no more important reason than she had now.

  Daniel must have read her expression correctly—they did know one another well. He grinned and said, "The tennight Promenade is the major social event in Hereward. Everyone who's anyone dresses up and comes here to listen to the live band and look at one another. And nine is early evening here—Paton uses a ten-hour, daylight-to-dusk clock."

  The gardens were laid out on a tongue of land. It was only twenty yards across here at the entrance, but it spread to over a hundred near the tip. To the right was the harbor; to the left, the open sea whose water was equally opaque but a clearer gray.

  Circular planters, generally with a tree as the centerpiece, were spaced just inside the perimeter hedges; a graveled walk wound around them. At the end of the peninsula was a larger plaza, also graveled. Workmen were setting up a small bandstand and a dance floor, using boards from the dump truck parked on the walkway and the trailer behind it.

  Daniel's eyes narrowed; then he shrugged. "I suppose they used a dump truck because they had one," he said. "That's a good enough reason, after all."

  "Ah," said Adele, putting the data unit away. "Thank you."

  "It's not surprising that I'd be more aware of high society in Hereward, after all," Daniel said with a chuckle. "Mind you, if I let the locals learn that my signals officer is Lady Mundy, you'll get even more invitations than I do."

  Adele felt her lips squeeze into a sour bunch. "Thank you for not doing that," she said. She nodded toward a gap in the outer hedge, where a railing gave a view over the harbor. "I think we'll be adequately private here. I wasn't confident of that a
board the Milton, since the Senator was aboard."

  If Forbes—if her staff—were skilled enough, they could have set timed recording devices virtually anywhere. If the devices were designed for recovery, not real-time broadcast, they would be completely undetectable.

  Though that wasn't the real reason for Adele's discomfort. She was tense and miserable because of Forbes' existence in the middle of her RCN family, not at anything Forbes was really going to do there. For all the cruiser's size, the Milton wasn't a safe haven for Adele so long as there was a senator aboard.

  "These gardens are full of exotic plants," said Daniel in a whimsical tone. "If you're from Paton. If you're moderately well-versed in horticulture—and I'm barely that myself—you recognize a good half of what you see as standard species which humans take everywhere they go. Many are from Earth originally—the roses, the pansies . . . But the rest as well, the wagtails—"

  He pointed to the clump of plants with finger-thick stems from which petals like pastel flags waved in the sea breeze.

  "—are from Hinson's Rest, the bluebrights—"

  He pointed to the clumps whose spiky cyan foliage overwhelmed the white florets at the center of each.

  "—that they grow by the square mile on Melpomene for medicinal extracts, but you find them in gardens on just about every other inhabited world too."

  He swept his hands across an arc of the plantings. "Pretty much all of them, the ones I can identify by name but I'd guess all the rest, they're off-world species. Whereas what I'd like to see is a nice slice of Paton's own plants in their native habitat."

  Adele laughed, surprising even herself. She opened and closed her hands; she'd been gripping the railing so fiercely that they'd started to cramp.

  "I'm sorry, Daniel," she said. "I'm angrier than I'd realized at Forbes' presence. And what I learned in the Spezza's log . . . fed into it."