The Belt Loop_Book 2_Revenge of the Varson

by Robert B. Jones

  They passed through the main gate of the base and Har commented on the huge stainless steel sculpture of the three eagles that guarded the entrance to the military complex. He seemed to be resigning himself to life in the military and she hoped that given enough time his street-bully attitude derived from his dreadful reading would come around. He hadn’t been around many people in the last three years and when he entered his school, when he interacted with boys his own age and older, some of his bravado and macho bullshit would certainly be challenged.

  “How long are we going to be at the bank, Mom?”

  “Not long. I just have to set up an account for you to have access to when you get to school,” she said. “You’ll get a card from the Navy and they will put your entitlements on it. What a deal for you, hon, they’re actually going to pay you to go to school.”

  “Shootin’ stars! How much am I going to get? Do you know?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, son. It won’t be much, but enough so you can maintain your personal needs and keep your uniforms up.”

  “Will it be enough that I can buy a ticket home?”

  She tousled his hair. “Probably not. But I’ll only be a few kilometers away at the War College. I’m thinking it’ll just be a bus ride away for you. When you get leave, you can spend your off time with me, Har.”

  He harumped and sat forward in his seat, straining the shoulder restraints. “I still don’t like the idea of being kept prisoner at that dumb school. I should be allowed to come home every night. Like normal kids do when they finish a hard day of being brainwashed.”

  Max chuckled and looked at him. “Is that what you think it is? Being a prisoner?”

  “Might as well be. I can’t come and go as I want. Have to wear a stupid uniform. Probably will have a number stamped on the back of the striped shirt.”

  She laughed out loud. Har’s over-active imagination flaring up again. “Nooo, honey, nothing like that. You have to wear a khaki cadet uniform just like all the other boys. It’ll get you used to being in a fraternity of sorts, a team. Something to remind you that you are all on the same side.”

  He looked at her with solemn eyes. “Then how come that Chief Rich guy tried to blow up your ship? He was wearing the uniform.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that, Har,” she said, reaching over to pat his hand. “Sometimes people go a little off, you know? They do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do. Stress brings it on or something in their past scrambles their way of thinking.”

  “Suppose I run into someone at school like that? Some boy with a, with a hidden gender?”

  “Hidden agenda you mean. I think that’s going to be the least of your problems. Now stop worrying and enjoy the ride. We’re leaving Elber in a few days and I want you to see as much of it as you can. You were born here, Har. Right back there on the base, in the Base Hospital.”

  He slumped back. “Yeah. I know. You were planning on turning me into a Navy brat right from the start, weren’t you?”

  She gave his arm a good-natured swat. “Stop your griping, we’re here. Try to be respectful when these people ask you questions and try to be upbeat when you answer. I don’t want anybody to think that I’m kidnapping you and sending you to Bayliss under duress.”

  “Under your dress? What does that even mean? And besides, we already tried that little trick, didn’t we?”

  She laughed as the cab came to a halt in front of a four-story sandstone building. She swiped the fare and they headed out into the bright sunshine. First the bank, then a shopping spree. For Harold. What a glorious day, she thought.

  * * *

  Walking around the huge Navy Fleet Headquarters Complex felt both strange and familiar at the same time for Uri Haad. Dressed in his sparkling white uniform with his ribbons and decorations ablaze above his left breast pocket made him a little self-conscious as the rankings and ratings he passed snapped off smart salutes. The black and gold shoulder boards with his four heavy gold stripes seemed to weigh him down but he marched with the stride of an accomplished senior officer. What he was marching toward he really didn’t know and refused to speculate about.

  His steps took him over familiar ground. He noticed a lot of physical plant improvements since he had been here last. Most notable was the way the sturdy trees — smallish oaks with support stakes when he had last seen them — had suddenly grown to heights he considered impossible in three short years. The dappled sunlight spilled across the well-manicured lawns and greenery surrounding the NAVFLT building and as he approached the steps leading up to the large glass doors he looked at his watch. Ten minutes to spare.

  Haad entered, uncovered and approached the marine guard near the elevators. He signed in and received a temporary ID badge that he clipped to the flap covering his right breast pocket just below his name tag. He looked at the image on his Visitor’s Pass and it was a photo taken years ago, taken when he was but a mere lieutenant commander. The wafer-thin screen flashed a green and gold border for a second or two then faded when he took his hand away.

  The turbo lift came down and he entered. Another captain he didn’t know boarded the car right behind him and they exchanged nods. The other man was so young that Haad had to look at him twice. This guy must have been in his mid-thirties, he thought. Every year, the line officers were getting younger and younger. Soon they would be piloting warships right out of the military schools, at the ripe old age of eighteen. The other officer made him feel like the Ancient Mariner.

  The young captain got off on the third floor and Haad looked at the flashing lights when his ascent continued. When the car stopped on six he moved out into an enormous but spartan foyer. Standard-issue military furnishing lined the walls and he made straight for the yeoman sitting at the largest desk.

  “Oh, hello, Captain Haad. Will you be so kind as to take a seat for a minute or two? The admiral is just wrapping up another meeting and he should be with you shortly,” the woman said. He nodded and looked around, settling his eye on a wooden bench seat that looked like it was washed up and rescued after some disaster at sea. he was just about to deposit his butt on the planks when the door to his left opened and he heard familiar voices.

  “The next time you get back to Haven, you call me first, understood?” the raspy voice of Admiral Paine said through the open door. Whomever he was talking to hadn’t made an appearance through the recessed doorway.

  “That I will, sir, that I will,” the other man said. Haad knew the voice. It was Pax Curton!

  Captain Pax Curton stepped out into the foyer and his gaze settled on Haad. “Well, you made it back, I see.”

  “Pax, how the hell are you? What’re you doing here? I thought you were still out in the Loop guarding the free world from night crawlers,” Haad said, extending his right hand.

  The two captains shook and Haad heard the admiral’s door close. “Me? Hell, Uri, I was just returning the admiral’s niece to Fleet. You remember Lieutenant Mols. right?”

  How could he ever forget her? “Sure, I do. What’s going on, Pax? She was recalled?”

  Pax clapped him on his shoulder. “That, my friend, is something the admiral will discuss with you. Hush-hush and all that shit, you copy?”

  Haad nodded and looked toward the door.

  “Gotta get going, Uri. New orders. Got to get my crew back together. Hey, how long are you going to be here? I mean, maybe we can get together later if you’re going to be around. I think I remember something about you owing my crew a drink, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right, but —”

  Pax laughed. “And since my crew is not here, you’ll have to buy me 350 drinks!”

  “You can go in now, Captain Haad,” the yeoman said from her desk. She had one hand cupped around her voice pickup and nodded toward the left with her lightweight headset.

  Pax Curton whistled and pointed to Haad at the same time. “Boy, he sure got those coals up to temperature in a hurry. I won’t hold you up. Call me. I’ll be in the BOQ unti
l 2000 hours tomorrow. See ya.”

  He watched Curton head for the elevator, walking with his usual swagger. Haad snapped the hems of his own uniform jacket down. He adjusted his hat to a comfortable position under his left arm and approached the door. He knocked on it once and entered.

  Chapter 14

  “So you’re sure what she told you is the truth?”

  “As sure as a man can get, under the circumstances. I mean, with the passion flowing and the booze doing most of the talking, I’m pretty sure what Haslip told me was the square business.”

  Galuud nodded and handed over the envelope. “If this report proves false, you will be notified. You should pray that you never receive that notification.”

  “Hey, Galoot, don’t try to threaten me. I’ve been supplying you with choice tidbits of information now for years. Has any of it been false?” He paused. “I didn’t think so. I tell you, something’s up.”

  The first-generation modified Malguurian, or Varsonian if you prefer, looked at Al Jane. He tried to hide his contempt for the man, a person willing to sell out his own people for money. His greed and treachery was not quite on the same scale as some of his fellow spies here on Elber but close enough. They had the money and were instructed by Inskaap to spread it around as they saw fit. While he tried to toe the line and get valuable information back to his handlers, others in his line of work used the money for personal enrichment and lived lives that were contradictory to the broad thrust of Inskaap’s plans. But that detail was not his problem. One day all of the pretenders would be rounded up and dispatched, replaced by the next round of mods. Galuud was the oldest surviving member of the first generation and he had been in place for four years.

  “We’ll see about that. I will forward what you have told me to my superiors. Once the information is received and evaluated it will be my pleasure to inform you of what they think of your assessments.”

  Jane stuffed the envelope into his inside jacket pocket. “Couple that with the fact that half the picket ships are returning to port, mix that with the fact that there’s been a significant rise in intelligence officers making their way into NAVFLT Headquarters, and I think you’ll find out that they’re on to you. Not you specifically, but on to your plans. Just as you have your spies here, Galoot, I’m sure they have their operatives out there in the Fringes too.”

  “I doubt it. How would they manage the camouflage? You humans are skinny and ugly. Our race is robust and strikingly handsome. I only agreed to this childish masquerade because I have vengeance in my heart. My entire family was turned into nothing more than a shadow on Hyfuur. Vaporized to the point that only their outlines remained.”

  Jane ordered another drink. It was early in the day for him, but seated at a back table in The Haven’s Heaven, he felt a small celebration was in order considering the disgusting encounter he’d had last night with that old Navy hag Haslip. But the information she gave him about the captain and his XO was worth a lot of credits and he didn’t feel like waiting until happy hour to spend them. He was not really a reporter for the Herald. That line was just another useful tool in his vice-laden tool kit. He prowled the bars whenever a new ship docked and eventually he would find a lonely man or woman to ply with drinks, talk up, have sex with, and during the one-night encounters he used whatever was at his disposal to gather information useful enough that the Malguur spies would pay for it.

  “I feel your pain, Galoot. Come on, share a little libation with me, something to get your day started.”

  Galuud pushed away from the table. “Fuck off, human,” he sneered, “you disgust me. I’m not one of your marks, Alfred Jane. I do what I do because I want to strike back. You do what you do for money. You sell your soul for the vilest of reasons.” He tightened his gloves by running his fingers down to the gussets between digits. Then he stomped for the door.

  Jane watched the man walk toward the front. Nobody else in the saloon paid him any attention as he wandered out into the bright sunshine and headed to his ground-car-for-hire. Piss on him, Jane thought. As long as he could get paid to drink and fuck, he was happy. Morals belonged to moral people, a group he was sure he didn’t belong to. A good life belonged to those who could reach out and grab it, a group he was certain he was, if not the charter member, at least on the board of trustees.

  He shook his head and motioned to the waitress.

  “Another round, please,” he said.

  * * *

  Rear Admiral Vincent Paine (two star) was leaning on the side of his desk when Haad entered the room. He marched into the center of the space and snapped to attention. “Captain Uri Haad report —”

  “Stand at ease, Uri. This is strictly an informal meeting,” Vinny Paine cut him off. “After what you’ve been through in the last few months, I should be saluting you,” he chuckled.

  Haad relaxed and turned toward his boss’s boss. His chain of command structure had him reporting to Admiral Standi, a grizzled one-star with almost forty years of Colonial Navy experience. Haad wondered how this fact had somehow eluded Admiral Paine.

  “Thanks for the compliment, sir, but in reality, a lot of my sailors and marines deserve much of the credit for what happened out in the Loop.”

  Paine waved his hand. “So you said in your report. But, I didn’t get you here to discuss old business. Sit down, Uri, please.”

  Haad put his cover in one of the wing chairs and eased into the other one. The admiral walked around to the business side of his desk and leaned back. Uh-oh, Haad thought, here comes the pitch. Probably high and tight.

  “You’ve been out in the Loop for three plus years. I guess a lot of the really juicy scuttlebutt can pass you right by when you’re out on station. So I feel it is my duty to bring you up to speed on a few things, things you possibly have already figured out on your own, but maybe some things you haven’t.”

  “Is this about the Christi, sir?”

  The admiral shook his head. “Not really, I’ll get to that later. I have already received the first report from the drydock watch commander. But, that’s a side issue right now, Uri. Regardless of what happens to her, you’re going to lose her.”

  Haad stiffened in his chair. God, he wished that he didn’t have to wear this fucking monkey suit uniform with its necktie and form-fitting shirt. One of the benefits of space: casual attire and comfortable boots. “I don’t understand, sir. Is she going to be scrapped?”

  Admiral Paine waved both hands. “Not if I can help it, son. Why don’t you just hold on for a minute and let me bring you up to speed. Relax and listen closely, Uri. This meeting is the defining meeting of your career.”

  “I’m all ears, admiral,” he said with a constricted throat.

  “First off, I must tell you there’ll be no board of inquiry. About the worm and the stowaway. I got that shit quashed right off the bat before it could grow any sea legs. Old Standi wanted to grill you some but I put that bag of bones in his place for good. Most of the guys down on five seem to think he’s in line to get this chair. Well, he’s not. He’s got terminal pancreatic cancer. I doubt he’ll see the turn of the year. That fact is not public knowledge and I don’t want it to leave this room.”

  Haad started to say something but Admiral Paine waved him off. “So, you see, that opens up a whole bunch of possibilities. Especially since I just got the word from the Administrative District across the quad. I’m getting my third star, Uri. If all goes well, I’ll be Vice Admiral Paine before the end of the year. Which leaves my slot here open. Now, if Standi kicks off before January first, that’ll be two Fleet positions open and up for grabs. They’ve already tried that adjuvant chemo shit on him but to no avail. He’s only got weeks, a month or two at the outside. You with me, so far?”

  Haad cleared his throat. He motioned to a carafe on the corner of the admiral’s desk. “May I?”

  Paine nodded and shoved the tray two centimeters closer to the corner. “By all means, captain. Forgive me for not offering.”

&
nbsp; He drank a full glass of the sweetest water he had ever tasted. He had come here this morning looking for an ass chewing. Vinny Paine had a reputation for toughness and was a stickler for observing operational protocols. When he was pissed, he didn’t chew your ass out, he chewed around it until it fell out on its own. What had happened on the Christi was not exactly by the book.

  “So, as I was saying, more than likely Coni Berger’s gonna get this chair when I get kicked up. And that’ll leave her lower half position open along with Oren Standi’s once he’s forced to retire for health reasons. I think one of those slots has already been allocated to one of the dick-suckers on Admiral Geoff’s staff. Some clown named Fuller. You ever heard of him?”

  “No, sir, can’t say that I have. Is he a line officer in the Third?” Haad asked, referring to the Third Fleet of Elber, the one responsible for the Belt Loop.

  “Yes. A young buck with only one cruise under his belt. No action that I can remember, but since he’s fucking Admiral Geoff’s granddaughter or grandniece or some grand shit like that, he’s being touted for the job. He’s in the building today, you might have already passed him in the hall or something. Kid looks like he’s just out of grade school, one or two battle ribbons on his skinny chest. Not our kind of people, Uri.”

  Holy shit. Maybe that was the young captain he’d seen in the private elevator just this morning. Wow, Haad thought, that kid being promoted to an O-7? Preposterous. “I think I saw him on the elevator, sir.” Haad went on to describe the young captain he’d seen.

  “That’s him. My jock itch is older than he is.”

  That got a smile from Haad. He reached for more water.

  “Here’s the kicker. Listen carefully. I have submitted my two recommendations to the admin guys and since I’m their new poster child for the month, they’ll listen to me dutifully before announcing any promotions. That’s where you come in. You and Pax Curton. I have submitted both your names to the committee for consideration. You two are the senior captains in the Third and you deserve the shot. I’m actually hoping that young Fuller fucks up his next posting so I can decorate you both with a star. You with me?”