CHAPTER 5
Holm on Kronstadt
There were six spaces reserved for commanding officers in front of the Operations Annex, three ahead and three behind the space marked Admiral; four were empty. Hogg pulled into one, rode up the curb, and straightened out. The car was half into the admiral’s spot, but Daniel was pretty sure that Cox wouldn’t arrive in the next few minutes.
Hogg looked at him truculently and said, “We’re bloody leaving the planet in a couple hours, aren’t we?”
Daniel got out with a smile. “Quite right, Hogg,” he said. He walked toward the entrance carrying the small chip case. “I don’t expect to be long.”
A blue pennant with the single silver star of a captain dangled from the standard on the car’s right fender. Closely examined, one would see that Hogg had picked out the previous name Cossack and embroidered Princess Cecile in its place. He wasn’t the most polished servant an RCN officer might have, but even in matters of display he was more useful than an outsider might have guessed from his scruffy exterior.
The four guards at the front door were spacers, not Marines. They watched those entering the building, probably checking uniforms, but they didn’t bother looking at IDs. That would have been a major bottleneck given the crush of traffic caused by the deployment warning order, as well as being a pointless waste of time.
The Operations Annex was a converted warehouse whose wooden floor held the odors from the spices which had been stored here in former days. Daniel stepped out of the doorway but then paused to close his eyes and take in the mixture of scents. He understood his fellow humans well enough to know that the personnel working here must complain bitterly about the stinking conditions, but to Daniel it was trip back to his childhood and Uncle Stacy’s tales of wondrous worlds among the stars.
DEPARTURES in holographic red letters hung over two consoles in front of an enclosed office in the corner. The bar which framed them was also of coherent light. A lieutenant in utilities talked heatedly to the enlisted clerk at the console on the right, but the other clerk was shifting data with no outside interference.
Until now, Daniel thought. Wearing a pleasant smile, he strode to the left-hand console, waited a polite moment, and then said, “Excuse me, technician. I’d like to file my departure request—”
The technician—thirtyish and more fit than the normal run of desk jockeys—looked up with a sour expression.
“—and because we’re operating directly under Admiral Cox’s orders, I decided to deliver the information in chip form rather than transmitting it with the risk it might go into the wrong bin.”
Phrased that way, the statement wasn’t quite a threat. Despite Daniel’s smile, the clerk was certainly aware that it could become a threat in a heartbeat.
“Ah, all right, sir,” said the technician, reaching through his holographic display to take the case. He opened it, removed the chip, and inserted it into an access slot on his console. “This would be . . . ?”
“I’m Leary of the Princess Cecile,” Daniel said. “We’ll be lifting for Sunbright at 1700 hours, carrying out the regional commander’s directions.”
“Sunbright?” the clerk said. He stared at the data which the chip had just thrown onto his screen. It merely expanded on what Daniel had just told him, of course. “Sunbright? Ah . . .”
His index finger made quick gestures on a virtual touch-screen. He said, “Ah, Captain? If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a moment, I’d like to show this to the deputy head for his input. That is, your plan’s in order, but there are some—”
The door of the office behind him opened; a lieutenant commander wearing Grays stepped out. He was a short, slim man with a dark complexion and hair as black as cannel coal.
“Sir?” he said, his eyes fastening on Daniel. “Captain Leary? I’m El-Tee-See Shiniviki, the deputy operations officer. Might I see you in my office for a moment?”
Daniel walked into the office with no more than the faint, friendly smile he had been wearing since he arrived at the annex. It was a struggle not to laugh out loud, though.
Daniel had come here to convince everyone in the Macotta Squadron—and by extension, everyone to whom they talked—that the Princess Cecile was heading for Sunbright; and in addition, that her captain was a ninny. He was having greater success than he had even hoped.
“Please take a seat, Captain,” Shiniviki said, nodding to a chair as he sat down at his console. “I realize that you’re not under the squadron’s operational control, but I feel that I’d be derelict in my duty if I didn’t offer some advice.”
He cleared his throat, then added, “My advice is that you not go to Sunbright.”
Daniel sat carefully. The chairs were extruded metal, standard RCN issue; they were no different from those in the Sissie’s wardroom except that these were not bolted to the deck.
“But Commander,” Daniel said in apparent puzzlement, “Admiral Cox was very clear about what he expected me to do.”
Shiniviki stared at him, frowning in concentration. He’s trying to imagine how somebody so stupidly literal could have gotten the reputation and quick promotions that I have, Daniel thought. And he’s about to put that down to extremely good luck.
“Look, Captain,” the lieutenant commander said, “Admiral Cox needs to demonstrate that we, that the RCN, are making a proper effort to repatriate this rebel leader. But the admiral doesn’t care—that is, nobody really believes that you can succeed. That’s if the rebel even exists.”
He leaned back and spread his arms. The walls of the office were real wood, probably a local variety. They had been varnished instead of being painted; the crossing diagonals of the grain gave the impression that the smooth surface was faceted.
“Our intelligence section doesn’t believe there’s a rebel using the name Freedom at all,” Shiniviki said. “He’s just an excuse dreamed up by the Sunbright government to explain why they can’t put down the rebels after four years of fighting.”
“Well, I’m sure you have reasons for your belief, Commander,” Daniel said. He opened his eyelids still further to give the impression that he was a popeyed innocent. “But orders are orders, as our friends in the Alliance are fond of saying. I can but try.”
“Sir . . . ,” Shiniviki said, obviously struggling to find the right words—and not to use the wrong ones to an officer who was his superior in rank despite being several years younger. “Ah. We’re at peace with the Alliance, of course, but Sunbright itself is under blockade by the Funnel Squadron, and there’s quite a lot of action between Alliance patrols and blockade runners of all descriptions. Accidents can happen, and—”
He grimaced, looked at Daniel and looked away. “Look, sir,” he said. “There’s a lot of people in this region who believe that we’re behind the trouble on Sunbright. That Cinnabar is, I mean. Now, it’s not true, but you know how frustrated spacers can get on blockade duty. It wouldn’t do to have an incident between an Alliance patrol and an RCN warship, you see?”
That’s almost a plea, Daniel realized. Shiniviki knew the kind of trouble there’d be in the Macotta Region if an Alliance destroyer put a missile into a yacht in Cinnabar service—or worse, if the firebrand in command of the Cinnabar ship managed to gut an Alliance patrol vessel. Beyond that practical consideration, though, the lieutenant commander seemed really worried that a foolish outsider was getting into trouble more complicated than he could imagine.
“Commander,” Daniel said, rising to his feet. “I fully appreciate your concern. I will not act in a fashion that will complicate life for the personnel of the Macotta Region, and if somebody else isn’t as careful—”
He felt his grin harden. At this instant, he probably didn’t give the impression of a hapless dimwit as he’d been trying to do during the interview.
“—I’ll work very hard to avoid making the situation worse. But—”
His thawed his face back to harmlessly cheerful.
“—I’m not going to spend my time drinking with Funnel officials in their sector capital and moaning about what a terrible thing this business on Sunbright is. I’m going to do my job, to the best of my ability.”
Shiniviki shrugged. “Then I can only wish you the best of luck, Captain,” he said.
As Daniel left the office, he thought he heard the lieutenant commander add, “And that’s what I hope for the Macotta Region too.”
* * *
Adele browsed information about Sunbright at the communications console, feeling the Princess Cecile shudder as the pumps cycled reaction mass. There would be plenty of time to strap in when it was really time to lift off; and if she forgot, as sometimes happened, it was unlikely to make any difference.
“Testing H,” Pasternak warned over the command channel. The ship wallowed in a pillow of steam which roared from the slip beneath the sternmost starboard thruster. The unit was operating at low flow, with its nozzles irised fully open so that the plasma developed minimal thrust. Even so, the exhaust boiled cubic yards of water and raised a plume sparkling with ions which hadn’t yet been slaked by the atmosphere.
Some of the Sissie’s ports must still be open, because Adele felt the soggy warmth of steam and a moment later sneezed when ozone bit her nasal passages. Spacers tended to be blasé about conditions which would have most laymen screaming about health risks. Yes, of course there were health risks in shepherding a starship through the Matrix.
The roar of exhaust silenced momentarily. “Testing A,” Pasternak said. He was running up the thrusters one at a time. This time the bloom of steam and noise came from below the port bow.
When Adele first had lifted as signals officer of the Princess Cecile, she had turned her whole attention to data on her display; that way she didn’t have to think about what might happen to the ship. Now—
She grinned as broadly as she ever did, though a stranger wouldn’t have noticed the expression.
—she turned her whole attention to data on her display. because she didn’t worry about what might happen to the ship. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Pasternak shut down his thruster, then lit the next in sequence. The Power Room boards were echoed in miniature on Adele’s display, but the numbers and gauges meant nothing to her. She put them up simply from a desire for completeness.
“Adele?” said Daniel over a two-way link. “Do you perhaps have something that a half-pay lieutenant could do while the ship’s officers are preparing for liftoff?”
Adele expanded the little image of Daniel set into the top of her display along with those of the Sissie’s other officers. He was now in profile.
She smiled again, tightly: that meant he was looking at her, kitty-corner across the compartment. Even at so short a distance, the holographic image was sharper.
“I don’t have any duties at present, Daniel,” she said, continuing to use the intercom. Even without the roar of the thrusters, the bridge of a starship preparing for liftoff was too noisy a place to easily call from one console to another. “I’m just studying the situation on Sunbright. Ah—you’re really giving up command for the sake of your role as Lieutenant Kirby Pensett, then?”
A roar that was louder but more diffuse shook the corvette, rocking her from side to side and slapping water violently against her pontoons. A larger ship must be lifting from a berth nearby. Adele switched the top third of her display to an optical panorama to see what was going on.
“That’ll be the Blanche,” Daniel said. He hadn’t bothered to check anything but what memory and his ears provided. “Admiral Cox put the Blonde in orbit instead of the usual destroyer as soon as we sent down the orders to proceed to Tattersall. Now he’s sending her sister ship up to replace her while she lands, loads consumables for the voyage, and tops off her reaction mass.”
He cleared his throat and said, “I, ah, have a tendency to take charge, you know. If I happen to do that while I’m supposed to be a passenger on the, ah, House of Hrynko, the results might range from bad to very bad. I’m trying to avoid that. And besides . . . well, it’s a bad habit. Any of my officers can handle this mission without me looking over their shoulders.”
Adele sniffed. “My officers in that case, I believe, Lieutenant Pensett,” she said.
She checked to be sure that her automated systems were harvesting communications: between Macotta HQ and the ships of the squadron, and among the ships themselves. The systems were, of course, and she wouldn’t lose anything by waiting to review the data until they were in the Matrix.
She said, “All right, since we’re both superfluous to the vessel’s requirements at the moment, I propose to brief you on Sunbright.”
“I’m in your hands, Lady Hrynko,” Daniel said, then chuckled. “During the voyage, I’ll read the files you’ve compiled, but I’d appreciate an oral précis.”
This is my duty, Adele thought as she hesitated a moment to organize the data in her mind. Not to brief Daniel, but to entertain him when he’s feeling uncomfortable because he’s removed himself from his normal duties.
Pasternak had completed his individual thruster checks. He and Vesey—Captain Vesey—were discussing Unit E with a minuteness that irritated Adele despite the mere shadow of attention she gave it.
The ship’s officers were obviously just as uncomfortable performing in front of Daniel as he was in watching them do so. She hoped that Vesey and the others would shed that overcaution when they were on their own; even a signals officer/librarian could see that E’s three-percent-below-average output was insignificant in any real sense.
“The administrative capital, Saal, is the part of Sunbright which is really under Alliance control,” Adele said as strands of data settled into place. “Saal includes the starport and the logistics base—”
“The base whose construction set off the rebellion?” Daniel said.
“The causes of the revolt are more complex than that,” Adele said. “But the influx of construction workers and staff was certainly a factor.”
She coughed and went on. “In any case, Saal is more extensive than even its population, some twenty percent of the planet’s total, implies. There’s a fence and bunker line, so though rebels certainly get in and out of the city, they’re unlikely to attempt a head-on attack.”
She had almost said, “They wouldn’t attempt a head-on attack.” That was the sort of thing that people said when they didn’t think, since even a little reflection would remind them that people often did equally wild things—and that sometimes the attempts succeeded, because their enemy had been caught completely off guard.
It irritated Adele to—almost—speak thoughtlessly. Irritation was almost the only constant in her life, however, so perhaps she should probably be thankful for the near blunder.
With her lips forming the shadow of a smile, Adele continued. “There are Alliance administrators for all the communities, and often they actually live in these communities.”
“Often they do?” Daniel said.
“Yes, though of course some administrators prefer to remain in Saal and carry out their duties electronically,” she explained. “But ordinarily they won’t have any problems with the rebels if they keep out of the way during the hours of darkness and more generally avoid rocking the boat. So to speak.”
Daniel’s image was frowning. “So basically,” he said, “the government, the administration imposed from Pleasaunce, controls the Fleet base. Which is really the only thing which is really important to the Alliance.”
“Yes,” said Adele, pleased again by her friend’s quick understanding. “The Alliance problem is that the population outside Saal is large enough and—thanks to Freedom—hostile enough to require a very expensive garrison for that base.”
Two thrusters, balanced bow and stern, lighted again. This was the start of liftoff procedure.
Adele shrugged. “I suspect that Guarantor Porra and his advisors would willingly give up all revenue from Sunbright rice—pink rice, it’s known in the trade—if they could get rid of the rebellion. But at this point a significant element of the population would continue to attack Alliance facilities even if the government withdrew from everywhere but Saal itself. And anyway—”
Adele checked the list of Alliance officials on Sunbright to make sure of the name.
“—Governor Blaskett appears to be too hard-line to consider backing down. I would say that he has at least as much to do with the rebellion as Freedom does.”
“Rice smuggling funds the rebels?” Daniel said.
Adele wondered if he particularly wanted to learn that information or if he were simply “showing interest.” Probably the former, since the Princess Cecile was not proceeding directly to Sunbright as they had worked to convince everyone on Kronstadt that they were. Getting into the rebel structure through their suppliers would be a good method, if it were possible.
All eight of thrusters were running now, but their nozzles were flared to waste their energy into the water of the harbor. The roar was nonetheless visceral, and enveloping steam shook the corvette.
“I can’t find any other source of funds,” Adele said. Her tone was neutral, but the fact galled her. “Obviously the available records on smuggling are partial. Available to me, but I think to anyone; there’s no centralized control, and even when I get the Sunbright records—”
She had no doubt that she would have those records eventually.
“—they’ll only give a further portion of the whole.”
She pressed her lips together sourly, then went on. “I think rice smuggling and raids on stockpiles on Sunbright itself probably equip the rebels’ current operations. They don’t explain the initial investment, the start-up funds, which must have been considerable. There were mobile anti-ship missiles around the export warehouse at Tidy when the first group of interloping traders landed to pick up the rice. A missile destroyed the gunboat Panther when it approached to capture the smugglers.”
Daniel’s face went perfectly blank. “I see,” he said. “Yes, that does imply a considerable initial outlay.”
Then he said, “Adele, is it possible that Cinnabar is behind this rebellion? Because to be perfectly honest, I don’t see anywhere that the funds could have come from without government involvement.”
“Yes, that’s possible,” Adele said; bluntly honest, because she was bluntly honest. On a matter of such importance, there was no option anyway. “I find no evidence that rogue elements in the Macotta bureaucracy are involved, but I’ll continue to look.”
“Yes,” said Daniel. “And if you find that is the case, we’ll deal with it ourselves. Since we won’t be able to trust the local authorities.”
He laughed. “You know?” he added. “I’m rather glad that Admiral Cox handed us this mission. It sounds as though it may be more interesting than anything that our friends in the Macotta Squadron are going to find on Tattersall.”
“Liftoff!” said Captain Vesey. The thruster petals closed; the Princess Cecile shuddered, starting to rise again to the stars.