by David Weber
“While you do the real work, in other words?” Clegg demanded sourly.
“Hey, it’s not like we could have gotten here without you,” Hauptman said. “Hell of a walk from Manticore.”
“Actually, Ma’am, we’re going to be depending on you and the other senior officers a lot,” Chomps again intervened, this time throwing a warning look at Hauptman. “If Tamerlane is working out of Silesia, someone in the Confederacy has to know about them.”
“Someone at a high level,” Travis put in.
“Exactly,” Chomps agreed. “You and the others will be in a much better position to draw conversations in the right direction, maybe get someone who knows what’s going on to drop the hints we’re looking for. Commander Long and I don’t have that kind of access.”
“We’ll really be doing the same job, Ma’am,” Travis added “It’s just that we’ll be looking at the hardware side of things, while you tap into the people side.”
“And no doubt, all of our work and sacrifice will be well documented,” Clegg said, clearly still irritated. “Never mind. We all have our orders. I’m sure we’ll all carry them out to the fullest of our abilities.” She looked pointedly at Hauptman.
“Absolutely,” he assured her. “I’m as much under orders as you are.”
“See that you remember that.” Clegg eyed him another moment, then looked back at Travis and Chomps. “And now, you’re all cordially invited to get out of my cabin. I believe you, Long, are still on the bridge; and you, Townsend, probably have some ensign’s nose to wipe or some spacer’s butt to kick.” She looked at Hauptman again. “And you just stay out from underfoot. Dismissed.”
* * *
Simone Sei was a nice counter-balance for Governor Olbrycht: easy-going, gracious, and genuinely enthusiastic about having visitors come to call.
She was also, sadly for her, far too trusting of those visitors.
“I have to say, Ms. Sei, that this place is fantastic,” Hauptman boomed as she finished the tour of the busy assembly floor and headed back toward the little private office tucked away in one corner of the building. “I always pictured it as being smaller, more cramped, and a lot more automated.”
“The secret of our success,” Sei told him. “Also why we were able to make use of your reshaping suggestions a couple of years ago. With assembly machines you have to redo all the configuration equipment and spatial dimensioners when you change the shape of a component. With people, all you have to do is lay things out, figure out the new assembly pattern, and then just tell the workers to do it that way.” She opened the office door and gestured her three visitors inside.
Travis glanced casually at the furniture arranged in a semicircle around the desk, a small bit of his tension fading away. Their pre-landing check of the social nets, plus the bits and pieces they’d seen on the way from the spaceport, had indicated that the current rage in interior décor here was for spindly, fragile-looking chairs. He and Chomps had counted on Sei being right on fashion’s cutting edge, and it turned out they’d been right.
Perfect.
“We’ve started offering custom designs for everyone now, not just Manticore,” Sei continued as they filed in. “It takes a little longer, but it’s very handy for people who’ve gotten hold of older ships, or ships with odd configurations who want to upgrade the enviro systems. Some of those hulls had equipment tucked away into the strangest places.”
“I know what you mean,” Hauptman said. “We don’t get nearly as much traffic in the Star Kingdom as you do, but we’ve had the occasional freighter or courier that’s blown a component or two and needs a quick repair or replacement. Some of those take real ingenuity to fix.”
“We’ve had a lot of the same challenges,” Sei agreed. “Please; sit down. I’ll have someone bring us some tea. I think you’ll like the brand I use; it comes from an island in the South Sea—yes, Chief Townsend?”
“Sorry, Ma’am,” Chomps said hesitantly, his massive hand half raised like he was asking a question in class. “But I don’t think your chairs are going to be strong enough for me.”
“Oh—yes,” Sei said, her face reddening a little. “I’m so sorry. You were walking so far behind us most of the time that I almost forgot about your, uh—”
“We call it being heavy boned, Ma’am,” Chomps said with a grin. “No need to be tactful—we’re used to needing special furniture and equipment whenever we’re off Sphinx. Is there somewhere I could grab something more substantial? If not, I could sit on the floor, or just stand.”
“That would hardly be polite, now, would it?” Sei said, heading for her desk. “The staff lounge around the corner has some small couches. I’ll get a couple of men to bring one.”
“It would probably be better if I went along,” Chomps suggested. “Make sure we get one that fits me. And there’s no need to bother anyone else—I can carry it if you can show me where it is.”
“All right, if you’re sure,” Sei said, looking a bit doubtful.
“I’ll be fine,” Chomps assured her. “Can you show me where it is?”
“Certainly,” Sei said, reversing direction back toward the door. “Follow me. Mr. Hauptman, Commander Long—if you’ll have a seat, we’ll be back in a minute.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Chomps said, heading after her toward the door.
And as he brushed by Travis, he surreptitiously pressed a data chip into his hand. A moment later, the two of them were gone, Sei’s chattering voice fading into the background hum of the floor’s general conversation.
“Watch the door,” Travis ordered Hauptman as he circled the desk to the computer. The tension was back, his heart pounding, his hands shaking. His first real act of espionage…
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Hauptman murmured as he stepped to the door and leaned casually against the jamb.
“We’re about to find out,” Travis said. Still, Chomps had had plenty of time out there to casually watch over the workers’ shoulders at their computer setups. Assuming he’d spotted all the proper cues as to which operating system variant they were using, he should have picked the correct hack-chip to give Travis before he and Sei went furniture hunting.
Fortunately, Sei’s computer was already running, with meant Travis wouldn’t need to bypass any passwords or first-level barriers. Mentally crossing his fingers, he plugged the chip into the slot.
For a couple of seconds nothing happened. Travis kept one eye on the display and the other on Hauptman in the doorway, feeling his already racing heart picking up speed. The chip ought to get them past the kind of simple security that most people typically used with non-critical systems like this. If Eiderdown Cocoon’s customer and invoice lists were similarly unprotected—and again, there was no particular reason Sei would bother loading on extra layers—this should work.
Hopefully, it would. The pieces from the invaders’ enviro systems had been the clearest sign of Silesian involvement with Tamerlane, even clearer than the gravitic components Travis had first spotted. Even better, Hauptman had been eighty percent certain at least one of the systems had come from Eiderdown Cocoon. Getting hold of the customer lists would give them a solid first pass at the name and system they were hunting for.
If it didn’t work, he and Chomps would have to fall back on a more intrusive and dangerous midnight black-mask job. Clegg would no doubt be thrilled by that one.
And then, to Travis’s relief, the display cleared and a long list of files appeared.
“Got it,” he muttered to Hauptman, keying for a copy.
“You copying the whole database?” Hauptman asked.
“Right,” Travis said. “Easier to sift it out aboard ship than try to find what we want here and now.”
“Well, snap it up,” Hauptman warned tensely. “They’re coming.”
“How soon?”
“Ten seconds?”
Travis looked at the display, ran a quick estimate. Not enough time. “Get over here,” he muttered, hur
rying around the end of the desk. “As soon as the download’s complete, pull the chip. I’ll try to slow them down.”
He headed out onto the floor. Chomps and Sei were coming, all right, Sei walking at Chomps’s side as he lugged a small couch toward the office.
They were three seconds from the door when Travis reached them. “Here, let me help,” he offered. He stepped directly in front of Sei, forcing her to come to an abrupt halt. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I can take that,” he continued, blocking her path while he reached around to try to get a grip on the couch frame nearest to her.
“That’s all right, Sir—I’ve got it,” Chomps assured him, swiveling the end around to further block Sei’s path.
Travis was ready, backing away and to the side, again getting between Sei and the office door. She tried to back up and get around him.
But Chomps was onto the game now, swinging the end of the couch further around, adding it to the blockage. “Really, Sir, I’ve got it.”
“Stop moving,” Travis said with feigned frustration.
“For heaven’s sake, Commander, let him have it,” Hauptman chided from the office doorway. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Fine,” Travis growled, stepping back. “Sorry, Ma’am,” he added as Chomps again lined up the couch with the doorway.
“That’s all right,” Sei assured him. Together, she and Travis stood aside as Chomps maneuvered the couch inside.
And as they rejoined their host, Hauptman pressed the data chip into Travis’s hand.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon and evening went by quickly and comfortably. With the job finished, and Travis finally able to relax, he discovered that their hostess was delightful company, with a sharp wit he’d completely missed while his mind was spinning with details and fears about the job. She gave them tea, and when the floor shut down for the day she gathered a handful of her top people and trooped the whole crowd off to a nearby restaurant. Most of the conversation centered around Eiderdown Cocoon and the details of their equipment and operation, information that mostly went soaring over Travis’s head. Fortunately, Hauptman was more than able to handle the Manticoran side of the discussion.
Which was fine with Travis. The food was exotic, but good, and it was nice to just sit back and have an evening where he didn’t have to worry about anything.
By the time Commander Woodburn screened that he and Clegg were finished with their own round of talks and that it was time to head back to the ship, he was almost sorry he had to say good-bye.
Two hours later, he and Chomps were deep in the files from Sei’s computer, looking for her list of customer names.
Three days after that, as the officers continued their official meetings, get-togethers, and dinners on the planet below, and the crew continued to spend their time and money on slightly less formal shore-leave activities, they had what they’d come for.
* * *
“So this is it?” Clegg asked, frowning at the list Chomps had pulled up on her office computer display.
“It is, Ma’am,” Chomps confirmed. “Sei’s customer list, and the first step to backtracking Tamerlane’s supply line.”
“And how many more do we need before we can end this?”
Chomps glanced at Travis, his face settling into a mask. “I don’t know, Ma’am,” he said. “In this kind of search you don’t know when you’re there until you’re there.”
“And of course you’re now biting at the bit to get going.”
Chomps looked at Travis. “We understand that there are other factors, Ma’am.”
“Glad to hear it,” Clegg said severely. “Because while you’re playing spy, the rest of us are on an actual, honest-to-God goodwill tour. That means we have to stay at least a week at each system to keep up appearances.” She shifted her gaze to Travis. “Meanwhile, I thought you were going to ride herd on Hauptman.”
“Yes, Ma’am, we are,” Travis said. “Is there a problem with him?”
“Not from his point of view,” Clegg said. “He’s socializing and racking up points with everyone down there he can find. He’s also making offers and talking contracts that he can’t possibly fulfil.”
“We’ll talk to him, Ma’am,” Chomps promised.
“So you said we’re going to be here another four days, Ma’am?” Travis asked.
“Or possibly longer,” Clegg said, turning up the voltage in her glare. “Unless you’re planning on taking command of my ship.”
Travis winced. That wasn’t where he was going. “No, Ma’am, of course not,” he floundered. “I just thought—”
“You thought that showing the flag is only third on our priority list?” Clegg cut him off. “That once you and Hauptman have what you need we should wave good-bye and go find some other dot that needs connecting?”
“I think what Commander Long was trying to say—” Chomps began.
“If I were you, I’d stay out of it, Chief,” Clegg cut him off. “Unless you were given magic mind-reading powers, you can let Mr. Long figure out how to explain things on his own.”
The intercom pinged. “Captain?” Woodburn’s voice came. “We may have a situation here.”
“Oh, we definitely have a situation,” Clegg growled. Reaching over, she slapped the switch. “Clegg. What’s the problem?”
“We’re being hailed, Ma’am,” Woodburn said. “An Andermani freighter, Hamann. The commander—”
“An Andermani?” Clegg echoed in clear disbelief. “What would one of them want with us?”
“You can ask him yourself, Ma’am,” Woodburn said. “Their commander, Captain Charles Kane, would like to speak with you.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know, Ma’am,” Woodburn said. “All he would say was that he wished to speak to Casey’s captain.”
Clegg shot a look at Travis.
“Fine,” she said, waving Travis and Chomps to the door. “I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. And you might want to bring Commander Long with you.”
Clegg stopped in midstep. “Excuse me, XO?”
“I know, Captain,” Woodburn said hesitantly. “But there’s something about Kane that seems a little off. I’d like to get the TO’s assessment.”
“Fine,” Clegg said between clenched teeth. “We’ll both be right there.”
Three minutes later, they reached the bridge.
“Is he still there?” Clegg demanded as she pulled herself along the handholds.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Woodburn said, quickly unstrapping from the CO station. “They’re cutting across the system—doesn’t look like they were planning to stop here. They started their deceleration about an hour after they would have picked up our ID beacon.”
“Sounds like we’ve piqued their interest,” Clegg said. “Let’s find out why.”
She gestured toward the com station.
“Hot mic, Captain.”
“Captain Kane, this is Captain Trina Clegg,” Clegg called. “I understand you asked to speak with me. Are you having some kind of problem?”
“No problem, Captain,” a melodious, almost sing-song voice came. “I understand that the Star Kingdom of Manticore recently battled an invasion force led by a man who called himself Admiral Tamerlane. I also understand that your ship, HMS Casey, was instrumental in Tamerlane’s defeat. Am I correct on both counts?”
“You are,” Clegg said, shooting a frown at Woodburn. “And this is important to you why?”
“I have an interest in military matters,” Kane said. “A hobby of sorts, as it were.”
“A hobby,” Clegg said flatly.
“One that is shared by many in the Empire,” Kane said. “We also understand what it is to be attacked without provocation, and thus have high regard for those who successfully stand against such aggression.”
“We’re glad you approve,” Clegg said with just a hint of sarcasm. “Is there anything more we can do for you?”
�
�As a matter of fact, there is,” Kane said. “I was hoping you would have an hour or two to join me aboard Hamann for a meal.”
Travis eyed Clegg out of the corner of his eye. For possibly the first time since they’d met, the Captain seemed completely surprised. “That’s very generous of you,” she said. She shot a speculative look at Woodburn. “Is this invitation for myself alone?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Kane assured her. “Bring as many of your officers as you’d like. The more I can learn of your part in the Battle of Manticore, the better.”
“Our part was to take out one of Tamerlane’s battlecruisers,” Clegg said pointedly. “At close range, I might add.”
“So I’ve heard,” Kane said. “I admit that to be the aspect that most fascinates me.”
“Yes,” Clegg said. “A moment, please.” She gestured to the com officer, and the mute indicator came on.
“You’re not seriously considering going, are you, Captain?” Woodburn asked anxiously. “That’s a foreign vessel, from a star nation we know very little about.”
“But we do know that Emperor Gustav seems to have a code of honor,” Clegg pointed out.
“A mercenary’s code of honor.”
“But a code of honor just the same.” Clegg gestured to the display. “I also seem to remember reading that Andermani freighters were routinely armed. It might be instructive to see just how that armament is laid out.” She looked at Travis. “I’m thinking our TO might like to have that closer look, as well.”
Travis felt his stomach tighten. Absolutely her TO would like a closer look at that ship, both as Tactical Officer and as a Delphi agent.
But to walk into an unknown ship, with an unknown crew and unknown motives, was a scenario that sent a shiver up his back. As far as he knew, the Star Kingdom didn’t even have official diplomatic relations with the Andermani.
Accepting Kane’s invitation would be risky. The question was whether the potential benefits outweighed those risks.