by David Drake
"So that his rank is clearly superior to that of other RCN officers whom we meet during operations here in Montserrat," Adele said. "I believe that Captain Leary is the best officer to command our forces, but he's very junior."
"I agree that he's the best man," Forbes said carefully. "I, ah, would accept your judgment on the matter even if I hadn't had personal experience of his skill. And I'll certainly brevet him or whatever the term is if you'll provide me with the proper form to use. But . . . ?"
Adele nodded curtly, giving permission to proceed. The Senator was determined not to put her foot wrong again. Adele's father Lucius was not quarrelsome, but he'd made sure that his whole family, even his little daughter, were known to be dead shots. That prevented those who objected to his political views from deciding to silence him on the field of honor.
Senator Forbes probably remembered that. Even if she didn't, somebody in the Milton's company would to have told her about Adele's personal reputation as a pistol shot.
"Because Admiral Ozawa's staff and all the commanding officers in his squadron were transported to Pleasaunce, milady," Forbes said, "Captain Leary is already the most senior officer on Bolton. There are officers who are older than he is and no doubt many who've been in the navy longer than he has, but none of them are of the rank of captain."
"Ah," said Adele, turning to watch a handful of leather-winged birds lift heavily from the surface of the water. Busy ports were good foraging for fish eaters who weren't finicky about pollution. Every time a ship landed or lifted off, it boiled a portion of anything which had swum in from the open sea.
Adele didn't care about natural history, of course; not unless Daniel asked her to look something up. The birds provided a useful delay while she chose her next words, however.
"Captain Leary is the highest ranking officer on Bolton," she said, following the birds as they circled higher. She would much rather have been speaking into the images—any images—she summoned from her data unit, but that wasn't an option. "I don't expect him to remain on Bolton now that he commands such a powerful squadron. It appears that several cruisers escaped to Cacique, and their commanding officers will almost certainly be senior to Captain Leary in length of service as well as time at the rank of captain."
"I don't . . ." Forbes began. Her face hardened. When she continued, her tone gave no sign that she was still concerned about how Adele would react: "Mundy, a few days ago we were in a captured Alliance base, hoping that reinforcements would arrive before Admiral Petersen ground through our defenses and retook the planet. Providentially, reinforcements did arrive, though in the form of ships which we've captured. They will enable us to hold the planet until additional forces come from Cinnabar, whereupon we may possibly be strong enough to challenge Petersen for control of the Montserrat Stars."
Adele met Forbes' eyes at last and gave her a lopsided smile. "Senator," she said, "that's a reasonable plan and one that most people, most RCN officers even, would choose to follow. I don't believe Daniel Leary is one of those people, however. Based on my past experience of him, I expect him to set off within a day or two to attempt to raise the siege of Cacique."
"That's absurd," said Forbes. She sounded amazed rather than angry. "Mundy, you don't simply walk aboard a ship and rush off in it to do battle. Why, the crews won't even know where to sleep yet!"
"Ideally I'm sure Daniel would prefer to spend a week working up the ships and their new complements," Adele said, quirking another smile. She was actually feeling cheerful now that she saw that the Senator was taking this business well. Better, at least, than Adele had been afraid that she would take it. "It's a voyage of some days to Cacique, however, and I suspect that time will have to suffice. Needs must when devils drive, you know."
"There's no bloody need at all!" Forbes said. "The need is to hold Bolton, and that's what I'll order Leary to do if he really is as great a fool as you say!"
"You'll recall, Senator," Adele said, "that Navy House directed Captain Leary to give you all possible assistance in your mission to Karst. That's in the past, however, and Captain Leary is now in an independent command. I hope you won't embarrass yourself by giving him orders which are beyond your authority and which he will certainly refuse if they conflict with his professional judgment."
Forbes stared. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then broke into a sort of smile.
"This is what you brought me out here for, Mundy," she said. "You didn't care about making Leary an admiral or any other bloody thing. You were just warning me not to interfere so that I wouldn't lose my temper when Leary springs his plans on me!"
"I think it is important that you grant Daniel the brevet rank," Adele said judiciously. "Beyond that . . ."
She drew herself up straight. "Senator," she said, "part of my job is to gather information, but it's equally important to provide that information to those who need it. I've found that sometimes I do better to use an indirect approach. In both activities."
Forbes took a deep breath. "You know, Mundy," she said, "if Leary himself had said all that to me, I might think that he was bluffing. I don't think you ever bluff, do you?"
Adele considered the question and shrugged. "I don't believe I ever have," she said. "It seems much easier just to tell the truth. As you say, Daniel might come to a different determination."
She gestured across the harbor. "You needn't be concerned about your safety on Bolton, Senator," she said, "at least in the short term. The minefield will keep even a large Alliance force out at least for months. And even if Daniel—if Admiral Leary's attack doesn't succeed, I'm confident that it will be some while before Admiral Petersen is ready to mount a serious attempt to retake Bolton. Navy House will send you reinforcements if it's humanly possible to do so, and there'll be plenty of time for them to arrive."
"I'm glad to see that the prospects for the Republic retaining Bolton are good," Forbes said. "It doesn't affect me personally, however, since under the circumstances I'll be accompanying Leary. Admiral Leary, as you say."
Adele blinked. She'd considered a wide range of ways that the Senator might have reacted, but this wasn't one of them.
"Senator Forbes," she said, "this will be a naval operation in which you have no part. Your business is here, not on a warship where you'll only get in the way."
"Officer Mundy," said Forbes, "I've recently been reminded that I should consider what was and what was not within my authority as a Senator and envoy of the Republic of Cinnabar. That was good advice. I recommend you also follow it."
Adele looked at her, smiled faintly, and bowed. That was probably against regulations while she was in uniform—she was wearing utilities—but there was a great deal about this conversation which would raise eyebrows if it became public. Which it wasn't going to do.
"I take your point, Senator," she said. Neither an RCN officer nor a private citizen like Mundy of Chatsworth had any business telling Forbes how to carry out her duties. "May I suggest, however, that you're uniquely qualified to set up a civil administration here on Bolton, while the only thing you'll do by accompanying the squadron is to risk being killed for no reason."
Forbes sniffed. "You might think there's no reason, Mundy," she said, "but your father would have known better. I'm not going to have it said that I hid behind a minefield while the courageous Captain Leary fought the Republic's battles."
"That's . . ." Adele said. The word on the tip of her tongue was, "silly" which was true enough but probably not a good choice. ". . . not right. No one would think you were a coward because you carried out your proper duties and let the RCN get on with its own."
"Your father would know better," Forbes repeated, this time with a smile that Adele couldn't read. "And besides, Mundy, I might think that I was a coward."
Adele frowned but didn't speak. It was as though the Senator had begun babbling in some self-created ecstatic language.
Forbes laughed. "You really can't imagine what I'm talking about, can you?" she said.
"You've never doubted your own courage."
"We may as well get inside," Adele said. "I have work to do on the bridge, and I suppose you have duties also."
She made a moue, then said, "As for your question, Senator, I think it would be better to say that the question has never arisen. I believe that courage of the sort you mean requires that one be afraid of dying. On a good day—on most days since I joined the RCN, I suppose—I no longer wish I were dead. But that's a long way short of saying that the prospect of death frightens me."
"As you say, Mundy," Forbes said, walking toward the open airlock, "we both have duties."
She paused and turned. "Speaking as your shipmate on the coming operation, however," she added, "I very much hope that you survive at least for the immediate future."
CHAPTER 23
En Route to Cacique
"The astrogation computer," said Lieutenant Cory—promoted when Lieutenant Commander Robinson took command of the Insidioso, allowing Vesey and Blantyre each to rise a step aboard the Milton, "would take us from M631 to M637."
Cory held the brass communications rod between his helmet and Daniel's with his right hand, so he pointed his left arm. Daniel noted that he'd correctly identified first one, then the other bubble universe against the glowing haze of the Matrix. Both were greenish, but M637 was much closer to the yellow range than the musky blur of M631.
The cruiser's port and starboard antennas began to rotate, by 13 degrees according to the semaphore not far from where Daniel and Cory stood. Daniel checked the process reflexively, turning his body because the rigging suit limited what he could see with movements of his head alone. Nonetheless he kept his helmet firmly against the rod so that he continued to hear Cory.
"But if we go from here to G224," Cory said, when he realized that Daniel was still listening, "then we can go to G213 and get a better increase without overstressing the ship, even though the first step isn't quite as far."
"And after G213?" Daniel asked. Six months ago, Cory could no more have picked individual universes out the Matrix than he could have flown. Six months before that, Daniel wouldn't have trusted him to read the astrogation computer's solution correctly. The boy really was coming along.
"Well, G171," said Cory, pointing to a universe whose energy state relative to that of the Milton at present made it appear a dull saffron. "And then . . . oh. Oh, I didn't . . ."
"Right, there isn't a good step from G171," said Daniel. "You're right, there usually would be, but for some reason the T-series is well down into the blue from here at present. I've only rarely seen a drop-off from the norm this sharp; but it does happen, and you need to keep an eye out for the possibility."
He eyed the Matrix judiciously. "I'm afraid that the book solution is the best choice," he said. "Much though I'd like to save another fifteen minutes."
"Sorry, sir," mumbled Cory. "I should have . . . Sir, I'm sorry."
Daniel grimaced, feeling as though he'd just kicked a loyal dog. "Nothing to be sorry for, Cory!" he said in a determinedly cheerful fashion. "Your solution would've cost us . . . seven, I think, minutes over the book, but it had the possibility of gaining us more than double that. And you checked it—with me instead of running it through the computer, but you would have used the computer again if I hadn't been here."
Or at any rate, Cory would know to do that the next time. He still had a great deal to learn, but he was learning. That was all you could expect, in astrogation or in life more generally.
They'd extracted from the Matrix a light-day out from Cacique, then reinserted. Normally Daniel would have come much closer before extracting, but this time he wasn't taking a star sight to check his astrogation. Rather, Adele needed to gather data about present activity in the neighborhood of Cacique.
In about fifteen minutes by ship time, they would extract again at three light-hours from the planet. By comparing the previous slice of information with one from closer in, Adele could make a prediction. There was still a dangerous range of variation, but it would give them a view of the tactical situation.
The final extraction would be one light-hour out, and this time the entire squadron instead of just the Milton would return to the sidereal universe. Daniel would have an attack plan prepared to transmit to the ships under his command, but if necessary—if Adele changed her predictions radically on the basis of the third point in time—he'd rip it out and replace it with a new one as quickly as possible.
And might the Gods grant that that would be quickly enough. Daniel needed to arrive at Cacique before the light of the squadron's presence did. Admiral Petersen was expecting Squadron Varnell, but if his force sighted ships in the offing, they would prepare for battle. There was no harm done if the newcomers were from the Alliance as expected, but they'd be prepared for the possibility that the RCN would try to throw reinforcements through the blockade.
Daniel smiled, though Cory wouldn't be able to see the expression through the helmet of his hard suit. "Let's get back on the bridge, Lieutenant," he said. "We have about enough time to get our suits off before the Millie dips into and out of our universe. As soon as that happens, Officer Mundy will start giving us information, and we'll turn it into attack plans."
They moved toward the forward dorsal airlock, the magnetized soles of their boots brushing over the cruiser's steel hull. Daniel tilted his head to look up at the Matrix, seeing it this time as the magical tapestry that made his heart leap rather than a series of bubble universes through which he threaded a ship.
Cory stopped also. Daniel gestured the boy forward, then followed him into the lock chamber. It would be interesting to see how good a tactician Cory was, given that his astrogation had become distinctly respectable.
Three data streams coursed down Adele's display like a divided waterfall. Under normal circumstances she would've said that this was more than she—even she—could handle properly, but time was short and she herself was part of the flow.
"Fellow officers," said Daniel from the command console. "This is a squadron council of war. We don't have time to do this by real-time link in sidereal space."
He grinned broadly. "Let alone by bringing the other captains aboard and discussing matters over sherry in the Admiral's Stateroom," he said. "Quite apart from the fact that Senator Forbes wouldn't be best pleased to be ousted from the quarters which I've assigned her."
Adele's wands danced and wove. She supposed this was like running full-tilt down a steep hill: so long as she didn't stumble, she'd be fine.
She was fine. She didn't recall ever before feeling more alive.
"Therefore I've assigned each of you a role to play," Daniel said. "You can think of this as amateur theatricals, if you like, but it's dead serious: you're to view the coming operation from the standpoint of the captain of the ship in our squadron which I've assigned you."
He gestured with his right hand and left. "Cory and Cazelet each command a flotilla of five destroyers for this exercise," he said. "You've all done this in the Academy. Most of you have, that is."
Rene Cazelet hadn't graduated from the Academy like the other officers. He'd been getting a double portion of tactical training from Vesey, however, since he was more than adequate in shiphandling and astrogation. By setting him battle exercises, Vesey also strengthened her own abilities in an area in which she had a decided lack of aptitude.
Daniel had warned Adele that he planned to speak to his officers directly instead of using the ship's intercom; if he hadn't said something, she'd have amplified the council as a matter of course. Using unaided voices was workable because the ship was in the Matrix; neither the thrusters nor the High Drive motors were hammering the hull. Adele wasn't sure that this really made the discussion more friendly and collegial the way Daniel hoped it would, but she wasn't about to argue with him on a question of social interaction.
The bridge hatch was dogged shut. Although the captain's voice would have carried over the varied echoes rattling through the Milton's corridors,
those of some of his junior officers would not.
"Sir?" said Midshipman Barrett. "What if the other captains, the real captains, object when they learn what happened? I, well . . . Commander Kiesche of the Arcona is bound to feel insulted when he learns that I was pretending to be him."
Adele's lip curled. Barrett's comment was based on a number of unstated assumptions, not least being that he and Commander Kiesche would survive the coming action. The reality of a space battle was that lives could vanish as quickly and utterly as the specks of light which indicated ships on a Plot-Position Indicator.
"The answer to your question, Midshipman . . ." Daniel said. He didn't raise his voice, and his tone was mild. "Is that Commander Kiesche is an RCN officer who accepts and obeys the orders of his superiors. You've raised a more serious question, however."
Odd, thought the disengaged fragment of Adele's mind. His voice hasn't changed and he's still smiling, but it feels as though the temperature has dropped twenty degrees. His smile doesn't go very deep just now, but most people's smiles don't go very deep.
"That question being," Daniel continued, "why an RCN officer would be concerned with social niceties instead of carrying out his assigned task? Perhaps you should consider a career as a social secretary instead, Barrett."
He coughed. "Officer Mundy will now—"
"Sir!" said Barrett, leaping to his feet. He'd been seated at the gunnery console, which Sun had vacated for this council. "I—"
Cory and Blantyre sat adjacent to him, at the lead and backup couches of the missile console. Cory grabbed Barrett by the waist belt and slammed him back in his seat; Blantyre leaned closer and snarled, "Sit down and shut up!"
"Officer Mundy," Daniel said, "please give an overview of the tactical situation."
"Cacique's inner moon—which they call Inner—lacks an atmosphere," said Adele. She started her display with the planet in the center and tiny Outer, 600,000 miles away, at the edge of the image area. After a moment to establish scale, she shrank the image down to Inner alone. "There's fossil ice at both poles and gravity at a little over an eighth of a standard g. Inner isn't normally inhabited, but it makes a very suitable base for Admiral Petersen's fleet blockading the planet below."