“Good. I’ll go through the routine of making my number with the DockCorp people, WeapTech reps and so on. Keep up the charade for the moment. I’ll want Team Leaders in Q Base at 19:00 for a brief. The Vanguard programme is the centre of this operation for Fleet and for the other side. We can’t afford any slip-ups, and we can’t afford to let them win.”
“Understood. I’ve set up the meetings you wanted with the contractors.” Nick stepped aside to let Mr Brown board the transport, then followed. “This is one of ours, specially screened.” He grinned. “The backroom boys had some fun with it. Anyone trying to eavesdrop will hear an unrelenting screech in their ears. That ought to do the job!”
Mr Brown laughed. “Good one. To business then. Felicity Rowanberg is moving into place as the Project Admin, and she has support from a couple more of our aloft team. Piet Brandeis is taking care of the coordination. The Dysson woman—Director of Contractor Liaison—and her deputy are both working for the other side, both of them among their top agents.”
His companion nodded. “We have them tabbed, sir. Do you want us to pull their strings?”
“Not at present. Just make sure they don’t get any useful information. I have plans for them when I’m ready.”
“Chairman, the latest acquisitions report, sir.”
Ari Khamenei took the slim folder and opened it. He distrusted electronic communications and insisted all reports to his desk had to be printed. Once he’d read and memorised the content, he fed them into an atomiser unit built into the desk, a vast expansive workspace in an equally grand office. One entire wall was occupied by a full-size reproduction of Rembrandt’s famous Night Watch, though the figures in this version all wore modern clothes and had the faces of the members of the Consortium Board. Ari adored this painting, but everyone who saw it thought it hideous. The wall opposite held portraits of all the previous Chairmen stretching back a hundred years. By some strange coincidence the last five had held office for shorter terms than the usual tenures.
The organisation was, if one dug deep enough, like some mythical beast, not only having multiple heads but with myriad tentacles reaching into almost every realm of human activity. The sole reason for its existence was to enrich those who formed its innermost core and structures. This included politicians whose ideology divided the world into those with power and wealth, and everyone else. It controlled, by various means, bureaucrats in every nation, alliance and organisation who shared that political view, and, of course, it encompassed those who depended on the control of political favours, resources and access to wealth, and all the things that allowed the holder to control. It was a struggle and a tension as old as humanity itself in one sense, but Ari Khamenei hoped the time had finally come to end the ridiculous opposition to what he regarded as the natural order: the haves ruling the have-nots.
Governments, nations and resources would all be redundant in his world order, a society managed by the captains of commerce, industry and agriculture. He had worked hard to reach this pinnacle, and had ensured, by any means necessary, that his rivals saw the folly of challenging his right to the Chairmanship. If they failed to accept his offers of reward, they were removed.
He fed the latest report into the atomiser then touched the communication pad.
“Ashworth, some dictation, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
The secretary entered the room and walked to the desk.
“I am disappointed that Five Star Security has failed to secure a better deal for the Brixham Nanotech arm of Brixham Group. Instruct the CEO to prepare a full report of why. Do the same for the CEO—no, make that the Chairman of BankCor, for the simple reason that they have failed to gain control of ItalBank and BankNord.” He paused to consider his words. “Tell them that we are extremely disappointed and expect immediate improvement in performance.”
“Yes, sir.” The recipients would recognise the threat in those words. Failure to deliver would result in some changes of position at the very least.
“Have our garrisons on Pangaea and Seraphis increased. Those lizard creatures on Seraphis—Lacertians, they call them—must not become aware of the World Treaty Council or the Fleet. Instruct Dr Johnstone to confine his experiments to worlds we have complete control of.”
“Yes, sir.” Ashworth wondered whether the Chairman knew what the Johnstone researchers were doing with the Lacertians, or if he knew that some of the mining operators were using them as slaves.
He probably wouldn’t care regardless, he mused to himself inwardly.
“Good. Now, DockCorp. Instruct the Chief Engineer that Directive 8455 is to be applied to all components supplied to the Fleet. And instruct MediaCorp to shift the focus of all their newscasts to the Fleet’s wasteful costs and deficiencies in productivity.”
“Richard, good to see you.” James Heron greeted his newly arrived Executive Commander. “Welcome to the shambles! At least the hull and life-support systems are now complete.”
The newcomer smiled, accepting the proffered handshake. “Thanks, sir. I must say she’s impressive even in this incomplete state. When will they allow us to take her out on trials?”
“No fixed date yet, but the estimate is around six months from now. Then we’ll have about eighteen months of trials and training before she’s ready to undertake any missions.”
“Well, plenty of time to get her absolutely right then. Who else have we got onboard? I’ve seen the Command Team list and I’m looking forward to working with them. I know Valerie, of course, as we were in the same year at College, though she, Nick Gray and Ben Curran were a term behind. Mary Allison as well—it’s an impressive list. Whose arms did you break in the Appointments Office?”
Captain Heron laughed. “It wasn’t that hard. Vanguard is the first of class and has lots of innovative features, not to mention a whole ship full of untried tech, so it made sense to pull in a team comprised mostly of people involved in her development.” He gestured toward a shelf with a collection of models, only one of which looked anything like the ship now under construction. “She is as much a technological leap forward as the first armoured dreadnought and the nuclear submarine. We will have quite a learning curve, especially with the AI network, which Fritz tells me is self-aware, though just how much no one actually knows.”
Richard Grenville’s eye rested for a moment on the exquisitely crafted model of the earliest Vanguard, a 74-gun ship of the line, once the flagship of the great Admiral Nelson. “I wonder what Nelson’s people would think if they could see our ships,” he mused with a smile. “Anyway, back to business. I’ve scheduled a meeting with all the Warrant Officers and Heads of Departments so that we can get to know each other. I’ve already seen the Chief Master Warrant and gone over his watch and station bills. He’s identified the key personnel we need to get at each stage of the rollout, and if the Drafting Office plays ball, we should have the full crew aboard and ready to begin training as soon as the final trials begin.”
“Excellent. Have you got the schedule for the training simulations to get used to the new Command displays? Good, I’ve done several runs on it, and I must say once you get used to standing at the centre of a globular display, it’s fantastic. You have a complete view in all directions. It is a bit distracting at first, but it’s probably the nearest thing we’ll ever have to actually being able to stand on a deck and see what is happening around us.”
“Yes.” Richard nodded. “I’ve done the introductory run in the training suite at Woomera Base. As you say, it’s quite an experience.”
“Better and better. As you know, we’re concerned about the intel from some of the colonies. Seems there is some sort of threat to the democratic societies we’ve worked so hard to build. The World Treaty Council and their bureaucrats are struggling to keep things stable. Fleet Intelligence suggests there is an organisation actively working to undermine our treaties and destabilise the elected governments.” He tapped his desk as he pondered this. “There is something very
strange happening in several governments. There seems to be a shift toward this new philosophy of government by corporate management. According to those who espouse this theory, government would be far more efficient if the civil services were replaced by private corporations who would contract out the work.”
Seeing the Captain’s expression, Commander Grenville hesitated. “I’ve seen something about that. We had a bit on it in my latest course. I must say it seemed a damned silly idea at the time, but on the way here, there was some expert on interstellar defence going on about how expensive it is to maintain a Fleet such as this, and how much more efficient and cost effective it would be to farm out our defence to specialist contractors.”
“That’s about the size of it,” said the Captain. “It’s tied into the IPC and their ships, which they claim are necessary for self-defence. Saw a bit of that report myself.” Hesitating, he said, “When you have a chance, read Security Briefing 8/812 and the assessment of the colonial situation as it pertains to conflicts of interest between the colonists, commercial developers and mineral claims.”
“I’ve seen the assessments.” The Commander frowned. “It’s worrying. Some colonies are on the verge of civil war over it.”
“The last thing humanity needs now is a war, yet it looks as if the Eastern Powers, particularly the Sino-Asian Imperium, are looking to expand their territorial claims and take a bigger share of global and stellar resources. There is a lot of concern about it all, and the Grand Admiral has indicated that our successful working up of the Vanguard is expected to send a warning signal to some of the more ambitious ones.”
“I wondered,” said Commander Grenville. “I’ll make sure the team know what’s at stake and that everyone is on their toes. We can’t afford any sabotage, either, and I’ll make sure of that. You know how it is: there are always a few rogues tempted in that direction, whether for personal gain or notoriety.”
The Captain nodded. “I trust you to run a tight ship, Richard, and I’ll keep you updated on developments.” His comlink chirped. “It never stops, does it? Hang on one moment while I answer this before we finish up here.” He answered the link and listened to the request to attend a meeting in the Chief Constructor’s office immediately. He closed the link and said, “I wonder what disaster they plan to spring on me now. If you have nothing scheduled for the next hour, Richard, I’d appreciate your company. It’ll give you an introduction to the daily challenges of staying on track and making this ship ready on time.”
“Captain Heron?”
Looking up, James Heron took in the speaker, a stunning brunette. Her face reminded him of someone, and he felt he should know her.
He stood to greet her. “That’s me, Ms…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Felicity Rowanberg, Felicity to my friends. I’m appointed as Head Administrator to the Build Team for your ship. I was wondering if you could spare a few minutes to allow me to introduce myself.”
“Certainly, Ms Rowanberg.” A memory stirred of a younger version of this woman in a Fleet uniform, but with a different name. “Administrator?” He indicated a seat. “Please sit down. Something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Something else?”
Seating herself, the visitor repressed a smile at the Captain’s obvious curiosity, and repeated, “Head Administrator. I’d love a drink, please. Is it possible to get something fruity? Apple perhaps?”
“Certainly,” and to the android steward, he said, “two apple drinks please.” He turned to his visitor. “Ms Rowanberg, why do I have the feeling I’ve encountered you before, and not in relation to Admin?”
She smiled. “I was warned you were sharp, sir. You’re right, not Admin, though that is what I’ll be doing here. I’d appreciate you not mentioning it to anyone else, sir.” She passed across a data chip. “Put this into your network terminal. It’ll explain everything, and after you’ve read it, follow the prompts to destroy it. The chip will emit a hiss of smoke, almost like dry ice, and evaporate without harming you or your system.” She laughed at his raised eyebrows. “Yes, all very secure and a bit of fun to watch, I might add! Oh, and Commander Brandeis sends his regards. He said I was only to pass that on if you saw through my, er, appointment.”
“Piet Brandeis? Well, well. Right, I’ll take a look at this chip later. First, have you made your number with anyone else yet?”
“The Dock Admiral, of course, and the Dock Head of Admin.” Her expression betrayed nothing. “I got the feeling there were a few grievances toward the stand-by team among the Admin staff.”
Noting the almost deadpan expression, the Captain nodded. “I expect there are. The relationship has been a little strained at times.” He paused. “Sometimes their priorities have not quite matched our schedule. On others, important decisions have been delayed because requisitions and essential reports have mysteriously been misplaced, misdirected or lost.”
“I understand, Captain.” Her smile lit her eyes. “I shall have to make sure my team improve their efficiency. You can be sure of it.”
“That will be a big step in the right direction.” Pausing, he considered. “I hold a Heads of Department meeting every morning at 08:00 Station Time. I think you should be included in that.” He grinned. “You might hear a few home truths about the relationship between my Heads of Department and your people. Every bit helps.”
Yelendi Dysson indicated a seat as her deputy, Dylan Raddeck, entered. His build athletic, his suit impeccable, he presented the image of a top executive. It concealed the fact he was also a practitioner of martial arts and extremely skilled in matters of industrial espionage.
Yelendi smiled. “The Director is pleased with the work you’re doing, Dylan.”
“That’s good news at least,” Dylan replied, taking a seat. “I’m a bit worried about some of the things one or two of our agents are doing. Some of it is downright amateur. Riddle, in particular, is getting far too creative.”
“Yes, we need to tighten up. The objective is to cause delays and cost overruns, not a total failure of the project. Put the word out that no one, and I mean no one, is to deviate from the directives from Solaris.”
“I’m on it. Riddle is being difficult, but I’ve put him on notice, and Fuchs in Admin will alert me to anything untoward.” Dylan paused. “The construction and installation teams know what they’re doing, and I think we can count on them to make sure it isn’t easily traced, but the Fleet Command Team of this ship are very alert, and so are the people they’ve brought with them.”
Yelendi nodded. “We’ll have to be cautious. I warned the Director that some of what the Board ordered was too ambitious. Have we got our man on the Weapons team yet?”
“Yes, he’s embedded. No suspicion of his loyalty that we’re aware of.”
“Good. Tell him the Fleet is installing something we want more details on, and we’re depending on him to get that information.”
“I’ll make sure he gets the message.” Dylan hesitated. “I hear things are going badly on Pangaea. There are rumours of open rebellion and some sort of atrocity on the part of our defender forces.”
Shifting in her seat, Yelendi frowned. “Yes, but so far our people have kept a lid on it and made sure the media present it as industrial unrest. The Director has sent reinforcements and wants that operation nailed down. Not our problem, but it isn’t going well. There’s a lot of resistance, and if it gets back to the North European Confederation—the sponsors of the colony—it could blow up badly for the Consortium.”
“Yeah, not good, and if the rumours are anything to go by, word is already leaking.” Dylan kept his feelings on this to himself. He wasn’t an ideologue, and his loyalty to the Consortium was based on several factors, not least that it had offered him a chance to achieve fulfilment in a role and a status open to very few of his contemporaries and background. But it had limits, and the situation on Pangaea was pushing those, as was the growing unease at some of the political manoeuvring happening in certain governments on
Earth. He knew that Yelendi shared some of his misgivings, though they’d never discussed it.
“As I said, not our problem. Our task is to make sure this build is delayed as much as possible and to get our hands on all the systems Fleet install that are not on our contracts. I plan to recruit the new Chief Admin Officer, the Rowanberg woman, to give us a contact close to Captain Heron.”
“Good thinking.” Raddeck hesitated. “One of my contacts thinks the Captain may be a Fleet Security operative, but I can’t get any confirmation on that, and I’ve tried. He’s certainly been on their list of people they wanted, but….” He lifted his hands in a gesture that left the thought hanging.
“We’d better work on the assumption that he is. His record is impressive, but it gives no hint of any such link. His last command was the task group that exposed the operations on New Helles and the extinction of the so-called Merpeople.” She gazed at the viewscreen. “I do know one thing about James Heron. He’s damned good at seeing what you don’t want him to, and hearing what is not being said within what is. His record also says he was top of his class in strategic planning, and he’s been assigned to several posts where there were potential problems. Now he’s here and taking command of their biggest project, just when we had it where we could steer it the way the Board wanted it to go.”
“Sounds like we’ve a challenge then.” Dylan grinned. “I like that.”
“Don’t be too sure, Dylan. We’ll play it carefully—but warn our people to stick to the plan. No creativity.”
Chapter 5
Changes of Governance
The planet Pangaea lay like a blue gem in the viewscreens of Commodore Leandra Enescu’s flagship as it approached its destination. Roughly four percent bigger than Earth, Pangaea was a relatively young planet, its plants and animals still in the very early stages of development, equivalent to Earth in its Devonian phase. The human population was just over five million and scattered across two very large continental masses and a scattering of islands. For environmental reasons as well as for protection from some of the larger herbivores, the human population tended to live in biodomes built to prevent the contamination of crops and to protect the biodiversity of the planet.
Captain James Heron: First into the Fray: Prequel to Harry Heron: Into the Unknown of the Harry Heron Series Page 6
