Britlot’s face paled. “I must return immediately,” he interrupted.
“As to that, Lieutenant-Commander, consider: One scoutship, more or less, will make no difference. You are of Adian descent. You are welcome to remain and make a new life where you have family.” He turned to look at Industry Minister Britlot who nodded.
“And my crew?” Britlot needed time to think.
“We have extended to them the same offer. We find them to be good people, and returning them to the Confederation to be killed seems a poor choice.”
Britlot could not find his voice, couldn’t even think straight.
“Thank you, again, Lieutenant-Commander. Transportation to your scoutship will be provided on the morrow, should you decide to return.”
The usher entered and led a stunned Britlot back to his quarters.
In the Chamber, the figures behind the glassed-in gallery trooped down and filled the empty seats. Industry Minister Britlot waited until they were all in place, then rose and was recognized.
“Friends, we cannot ignore what the Confederation officer has said. The Defense Minister and I have been warning this Council for years, now. Our patrols have sighted both Confederation and Combine ships. And, as we’ve learned, where the Combine merchant fleet finds advantage, their navy soon appears. I propose that our plan for Adian Industry to begin its switch to defense production be implemented immediately. We have no time to lose.” He finished and sat down.
Head of Council, who had remained behind the glass, and therefore silent, through the Britlot interviews, stood. “I agree with the Industry Minister,” he acknowledged. “Is there any debate on the subject?”
Silence.
“I then ask for a vote. Those in favor?”
The motion carried unanimously.
“The young Lieutenant-Commander has brought us a gift: the goad to make a decision. Eventually we will become involved; the Lieutenant-Commander is correct on that point. The only question now becomes: When?” He sat and waited. No one moved. No one rose to speak.
The long silence continued. Head of Council looked around the Chamber but no one met his gaze. Every member sat, deep in thought. He sighed, then stood again.
* * *
Mart Britlot finished packing his few things. Nothing to do now but wait for transportation. How had the Adians come by the information? Were transmissions possible, once this far away from the Phenomenon? The Empire sector undefended? He felt sick to his stomach.
The door chimes sounded. “Enter.”
Industry Minister Tremm Britlot entered. “Well, the Council has agreed to begin rebuilding our military capacity,” he told Mart.
“I hope they are in time.” Britlot couldn’t think of anything else to say. Disappointment still weighed heavily within him. “On my ship I have a few discs which may help you rearm.”
“Then you are staying,” Tremm smiled.
He made his decision. “No, sir. The discs ... perhaps it is treason, perhaps not; all I know is that Adia may become the last refuge of free humanity. You will need any advantage you can get.”
“Would it make a difference if I told you that you may be alone? That your entire crew may remain behind?”
Britlot gaped.
“Even your Lieutenant Weytok wavers.”
CHAPTER 15
TLARTOX HOME PLANET
Finished. Shads looked again at the schematics and wondered how he could have missed it. A simple circuit, so innocuous. That was why he’d overlooked it.
“I’m done.”
The others turned and looked at Shads. “You look terrible, Efdur,” Strel told him. “A good night’s sleep for you. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
“Agreed.” Even Nallin looked appalled at his appearance.
Carefully, he moved to the mirror. No wonder. He did look a mess. He nodded wearily.
“You speak truth. I would stand out everywhere we went. We leave tomorrow. If any hot food remains, I’d like some—and then to bed.” He stumbled off to the kitchen, Ange beside him.
Sitting down, Shads watched with dull eyes as Ange quickly put together a meal. He was so tired he barely even tasted it as it passed his mouth. Although Strel came in, ears forward, nose twitching, Shads found that the wonderful odors, which Strel enjoyed, imparted nothing to him. He simply had to eat. A necessity.
Together Strel and Ange saw him to his bed, and he fell to sleep almost before his head hit the mattress.
* * *
“Time to get up, Shads,” Strel called.
Shads looked at his timepiece and groaned. He couldn’t have slept that long. Yet a glance around the room told him that he had. They had packed his belongings without waking him. That alone told him how deeply he’d slept.
They left quietly, carefully. At least they hadn’t had even the slightest sniff of the Hunters. He’d been right: their comm had been compromised. No one knew where they had gone and, as they’d not used any comm, they’d been left alone. Tlar’s words came back to him: If you don’t make tracks, none will find. They had made no tracks.
“We have a meet,” Strel told him. “I sent your findings to the techs and they implement your changes as we speak. Now the Master wishes to see us.”
The Master? It would be good to see him again.
ADIA
Lieutenant Weytok woke and made her rounds. No one else remained in the barracks, and none of the crew had left word of their whereabouts. The breach of protocol disturbed her. She headed towards the Administration building to find out what had happened.
Outside, though the sun had risen, the smell of damp grass and the coolness of the night had not yet gone. Lieutenant Sharden appeared, walking towards her.
“What is going on?” Feneya demanded. “My crew has disappeared.” Sub-Lieutenant Krirtol’s absence, Feneya could understand. The shy Subbie had become involved with an Adian. Puppy love, she thought.
Lieutenant Sharden looked pained, and Feneya’s suspicions grew. Sharden looked into the angry eyes of her friend. She straightened. “We offered your crew the same choice as we now give you.”
“What choice?” Weytok’s eyes narrowed.
“To stay or to leave. As I told you yesterday, Mart has family here. The Tlartox Empire has begun a war of conquest, and it is unlikely that the Confederation will survive. He has decided that prudence dictates that he stay. Most of your crew agree. The others look like they will come onside.”
“What!”
Sharden doubted that she could ever match the mixture of incredulity and outrage that Weytok put into that single word. She cursed her orders.
“The Lieutenant-Commander’s name is Britlot. Britlot is an important name among us, you know. He is Adian. Don’t you think he’ll want to remain where he has family? Why do you suppose he wanted so desperately to find us?”
“Enough!” Feneya’s anger overrode the sickness she felt inside. Everyone had betrayed her. “I want my crew here, now.”
“I regret to inform you this is not possible,” Lieutenant Sharden spoke formally. She stood stone-faced as the Confederation officer glared at her.
“Then I shall return to Searcher and—”
“I regret to inform you that, also, is not possible.”
Feneya shook with anger and impotence. With difficulty she calmed herself, and when she spoke her voice was level. “Then, at the very least, I wish you away from me. I’d rather be alone.”
A flutter of emotion crossed Lieutenant Sharden’s face, then disappeared. She came to attention, saluted, then turned and marched off.
From the next building an Adian Marine approached. Feneya understood she was under arrest. Struggling to maintain her calm, she turned and re-entered her barracks, refusing to allow the Adians to see her anger and frustration. Inside she began to shake.
Three hours later came a knock at her door. Sharden stood waiting.
“What do you want?”
“Please, Feneya, I don’t want to hurt you
. Your crew decided to remain here. A last time I’m asking you to stay. Please.”
“If I have crew to get Searcher into space, I can get her back to the Confederation by myself. Can you arrange that little for me, Lieutenant?”
Sharden did not react to the coldness. “Very well, Lieutenant. We will get you into space. Be ready in one hour.”
* * *
Mart Britlot approached Searcher in a landcruiser piloted by Commander Travlot. “You are sure one person can pilot your craft back to the Confederation?”
“Not a problem, Commander. One person can drop and recalibrate with the proper auto-pilot programs installed. A single crewmember need only while away the hours and cook.” His decision made, Britlot relaxed. A final confrontation with Lieutenant Weytok might be disturbing, but he’d manage to get through it.
A bevy of small landcruisers seemed to converge on Searcher all at once. One by one his entire crew emerged looking grim and suspicious. Only Sub-Lieutenant Krirtol was missing.
Britlot walked up to Lieutenant Weytok and saluted. She kept her face guarded and returned the salute. Apparently she wanted to keep this little parting strictly official. Ah, well. The Adians withdrew.
Britlot forced a smile onto his face. “Well, Lieutenant, crew. Good of you to come to see me off. I don’t hold this against any one of...”
Their looks of surprise and incredulity stopped him.
“Sir,” Weytok began cautiously. “I thought you came to see me off.” Everyone began talking at once.
“Hold!” Britlot’s face was grim. “Who here is returning to the Confederation?” He put up his own hand to join the other eight. His eyes narrowed and Weytok involuntarily took a step back.
“Board the ship, Lieutenant. See that the crew bring the ship to lift readiness.”
“Aye, sir.” Lieutenant Weytok turned about. “You heard the Captain. Prepare to lift.” The crew scrambled aboard Searcher, followed by Lieutenant Weytok.
“Well, Commander Travlot, that was a dirty piece of work,” he told the Adian as he approached.
“Do you blame us for trying?” Travlot asked innocently.
“I don’t know. Looks like you have my Subbie. I hope she is worth the effort.”
Two more landcruisers pulled up, one considerably larger than the other. Through the front windscreen of the smaller one Britlot could see Sub-Lieutenant Krirtol engaged in a passionate kiss with an Adian civilian. She finally disengaged and slipped out of the landcruiser, pulling her pack with her.
Her hair in disarray and her uniform not properly done up, she approached her captain. Her face, however, glowed.
“Sorry I’m late, Captain,” she apologized as she saluted. Then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just had to have one more,” she said earnestly.
Britlot couldn’t think, then threw back his head and laughed. “As long as you enjoyed it, Sub.”
“Oh, aye, sir!”
“Get on board, Sub. Straighten up before manning your station.” Had he ever been that young?
From the second cruiser, an assortment of people emerged. Industry Minister Tremm Britlot led them to him.
“Mart, I’d like you to meet some more of the family,” he told a surprised Britlot.
“Major Coll Britlot, Adian Marines. Lieutenant Tana Britlot, Adian Navy. Spacer Lene Krillon, great granddaughter of Sorn Britlot. Pell Britlot, farmer.” The introductions went on.
Finally Wyna Britlot, Tremm’s wife approached Mart and handed him an ornate, bound book. “The Britlot family tree, Mart. We thought you might like it.”
Mart’s eyes teared over. Family. His family. “Thank you, thank you all.” He stepped back and saluted. “I still have those discs for you, Tremm.”
“No need, Mart. We took copies of everything we might need while you were at the Capital. Necessity.” He didn’t apologize.
“Good.” He nodded to himself. He would have done the same, given the circumstances. “I’ll read this on the way back, while I have the chance.” He hefted the book. “Commander, let us be off.”
Travlot accompanied Britlot onto Searcher, bringing a Comm Tech and Navigator in tow. In space, Winter Sky accompanied them until they dropped for final recalibration. The Adian Navigator locked a course in the navcomp, then took her leave along with Commander Travlot and the Comm Tech. Lieutenant Weytok escorted them to the lifeboat.
To her surprise, Lieutenant Sharden piloted the boat and entered through the airlock. Those waiting filed past her and onto the boat.
“Orders, Feneya. I’m sorry.”
Weytok could not forgive. She stood silent. Finally Sharden sighed. “Here, this is for the Captain.” She held out a disc. Weytok accepted it and watched as Sharden turned and went back through the airlock, which cycled shut behind her.
A small thump told of the lifeboat’s departure. Weytok returned to the bridge where she handed Britlot the disc.
“Detectors and Comm on,” ordered Britlot. The monitor showed the Winter Sky. “Take a last look at a ship of the line of the Adian Navy, Feneya.”
Weytok gasped. “Not a training ship?”
“No. Adia hasn’t built a new warship in three hundred years. There is no help for us here.” It was the first time Britlot had said anything about the mission.
He raised his voice. “Take her to hyperspace, Navigator. Let’s go home.”
“Aye, sir.” The Adian destroyer wavered and disappeared.
Weytok noted the last, longing look her captain gave to the empty screen before the mask of command settled his features. She would consider it later; just now her own hurt felt too fresh.
“Permission to retire to my quarters, sir?”
“Get some sleep, Lieutenant,” Britlot confirmed. Soon there would be no time for sleep, if the Adians had told him the truth.
Weytok lay in her pit, unable to sleep. Her door chimed and she admitted Britlot.
“Here.” He handed her a disc, then left.
Feneya opened a reader and placed the disc in it. She gave a sudden sob as she looked at technical drawings for a hot-box. Tears made their way down her cheeks, unheeded.
CHAPTER 16
TLARTOX HOME WORLD
“Welcome, Shads. Events proceed apace. With the humans in full retreat, our favorite Fleet Admiral flings herself in hot pursuit. The very stuff of sagas, not so?” The Master sat, looking over the report sticks scattered about his desk.
“Will Tlomega halt once she’s taken Lormar?” Shads looked curiously into the Master’s yellow eyes.
“That was the plan.”
“Yes, Vom, that was the plan, but the Fleet Admiral is the Fleet Admiral. She and her associates have worked long and hard for this chance. I do not think that simple revenge for Tlenfro will suffice.”
“Ah, Shads, you learn. No, it is unlikely that she will call a halt. We would not do what we do were that the case. If she surprises us, we just fade into the tall grasses.” Vom rose and walked to the kitchen. Shads followed, knowing that he was about to get something good.
The kitchen door opened and the most amazing odor sailed out to tickle his nose. “Tlenfel? Fresh tlenfel?” Shads could scarcely believe his nose.
“A celebration, Shads, my friend. Our work comes to an end. All the connections function, the overrides disabled, and we stand prepared. Perhaps we shall surprise Tlomega.”
The Master turned to Kiron, who presented the Tlenfel. “Many thanks, Kiron.” He sniffed appreciatively, “You have once again outdone yourself.” Kiron basked in the glow of Vom’s praise. “And have you seen the latest poster?” Kiron nodded. Shads looked puzzled.
“Ah, yes, I guess you’ve been pretty well out of the loop lately.” He pulled out his reader and entered a code. Shads caught himself torn between the heavenly aroma and curiosity. Suddenly his eyes widened.
“This must have caused consternation.”
“You put it mildly. Fleet is furious.”
“Meaning Tlomega.”<
br />
“Meaning Tlomega. The Commandos are torn. They like the mussed fur in Fleet, but the third poster has them out of sorts, too. The public screams on both sides. Scholars revel in the attention, explaining exactly what Tlar meant; and the war gets no good propaganda.”
“Well done,” Shads bared his teeth, now wanting this to end so he could eat.
“And we have Kiron to thank for it. She gave me the idea.”
Kiron’s face transformed to a picture of pleasure mixed with embarrassment. Shads offered congratulations, and Vom explained how it had come about.
But Shads could barely concentrate on what the Master said. He felt his saliva glands kick in and began purring gently. Vom partitioned the tlenfel and passed half to Shads who fell upon it with a vengeance. Minutes later the two lay down upon cots, sated.
Finally, after a short nap, Shads opened his eyes and looked at Vom for what he realized might be the last time.
“I’ve been recalled to duty, Vom.” Shads stretched and enjoyed the feel of each muscle being worked.
“Yes, I suspected this would occur. I wish you and your shipmates well. Do your proper duty and bring us honor.”
“I shall. May your dish be always full, Master.”
“May your hunt be successful. And Shads? You have grown much since we first met. I think I prefer it when you call me Vom. ‘Master’ rings of exceptional arrogance.”
“Very well, Vom.” Shads licked his lips one last time and rose from the cot. After so long on a planet, it would feel strange to be back in space.
TEMPEST IN HYPERSPACE, NEAR TLENFRO
“Drop probe,” Captain Fronel ordered.
“Probe dropped.” A pause. “Data stream achieved.”
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