Breach of Peace

by Daniel Gibbs

  "Madame Minister," Miri said and swallowed nervously.

  "Ms. Lupa. I cannot take an official statement from you until you are on Lusitanian soil and can be given a proper deposition by my security forces, but I would like to know, unofficially, what you know. What happened to the Kensington Star?"

  Henry gave Miri a glance. If she wanted to do her part to call out the League, here was her big chance. He listened as she spoke succinctly and without wavering. "She was attacked, ma'am. By the League of Sol."

  Caetano's eyes narrowed. "Truly?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Miri recognized skepticism, as did Henry, but she pressed on. "They disabled our drives and communications, I'm not sure how. I saw their Marines board and hid in my cabin until I could slip away."

  "How did you get away?"

  "I put on an EVA suit and spaced myself."

  Henry noted the intent look that came to Caetano's face. Her blue eyes glistened with interest aimed at Miri. "How did you know you would be rescued?"

  "I didn't."

  Skepticism returned. "So you spaced yourself without anticipation of rescue? Why?"

  "It was my only choice," Miri said. "I have a… history with the League, ma'am. They would have spaced me when they found out who I was."

  Henry watched with interest to see if Caetano believed her. He could see Miri had the same interest. "Well," Caetano said. "Quite the explanation. I look forward to your legal statement when you arrive on Lusitania. Rest assured, Ms. Lupa, that you will be protected while a guest of the State, and if the evidence makes your charges clear, I will happily arrange for your further protection from the League. Now, Captain, please hurry your repairs along. Things are proceeding swiftly here on Lusitania, and I desire Ms. Lupa's official testimony to be available."

  "We're already working on repairs," Henry assured her. "I'll keep you posted."

  "Yes, you will." She cut the line.

  "That woman is terrifying," Miri said. "I have seen her kind."

  "I bet you have." Henry sighed. "And Felix's brother is still at her mercy."

  Miri nodded. "I understand you wish to free him from her. But would you trade my life for this man? Because that’s what you might be doing. If she doesn't believe me…"

  Henry swallowed and glanced away. "I'd rather that not happen."

  "It might." Miri let out a sigh. "Well. At least she will more likely have me shot as a pirate if she doesn't believe me. Better to be shot than spaced."

  "Yeah, I hear you."

  28

  In the offices of the Lusitanian Defense Ministry, Cristina Caetano sat at her desk and directed her attention to the image of her counterpart from New Cornwall, Alistair Maurier. "Then you have heard nothing further yet?"

  "The Astra Mater is still in orbit over Harron," he replied. "They're awaiting further word from the investigators on Sektatsh. The ISU's hostel shows Lupa departed of her own free will and never returned."

  "While leaving behind her personal effects?"

  "She had little to leave behind." Maurier smirked, the expression coming across quite smug. "Given what we've been shown by Ms. Okon, the head of P&Y's security office, it's looking more and more like Lupa was a pirate herself. We're coming around to the view that she works with the Tokarevs. Their supposed rescue of hers is a little too convenient, if you ask me."

  "Not for Ms. Lupa, if she is sincere," Caetano opined.

  Maurier snorted. "Unlikely."

  Caetano didn't match his bemused look. "I've heard the League may be the suspect she indicated to P&Y?"

  "I can confirm it, and we're discounting it," Maurier said. "It makes little sense they'd provoke this while they were pursuing peace. Besides, it only strengthens the suspicion that the Tokarevs put her up to this. Their hatred and brutality toward the League is notorious. I wouldn't be surprised if they're behind all these disappearances. That entire colony of backward Russian fanatics has been trouble since they first founded Cyrilgrad."

  "They are one of many nuisances, yes," Caetano remarked carefully. "I trust you will keep me informed regardless of the outcome?"

  "Of that, you can be assured. The PM is quite keen on presenting a common front with Lusitania and other key worlds on this issue, and I have been given instructions to that effect."

  "I have similar instructions from my Prime Minister, and I will provide you the same. Good day, Defense Minister." With a tap of a key, Caetano ended the call. She smiled to herself and let her contempt for Maurier and the administration of New Cornwall stew. The truth was they were desperate to exonerate the League since otherwise they'd be forced to take a stand against it or be shamed before all the other worlds. Given their anemic fleet and even more anemic foreign policy, she suspected they would choose shame, and probably get war anyway.

  An incoming message from one of her subordinates in the PdDN appeared on her link. Upon reading the text, she smiled. Everything is going according to plan.

  The smile faded when her secretary sent another message, text only, that Assemblywoman Ascaro had arrived to see her. Caetano signaled back to let the Basque democrat in and stood as the door opened.

  Ascaro came in, fired up as always. "This is the last straw, Caetano!" she shouted. "I am going to President Vargas with this!"

  "I beg your pardon?" Caetano raised her eyebrow. The invocation of Lusitania's Head of State, Emilio Vargas, was of interest, although of little threat since the Estado Novo's constitution had strictly limited his ability to restrain the government.

  "Your party thugs are vandalizing my offices again!" Ascaro shouted. Her commlink came up to show the chaotic scene of a political party office that looked like a miniature tornado had run through it. A tornado capable of writing the Portuguese language, at that, with "Death to Traitors!" being painted on the wall. The image depicted a young man with a face beaten into a particular shade of purple. "You’re supposed to maintain law and order in our country. You call this order?"

  "And yet your party is persistently hostile to the Estado Novo and the defense of Lusitania, including that same law and order," Caetano replied coolly. "You consistently oppose efforts to protect our people from threats. In these troubled times, you must be aware that such controversial stands will invite difficulties from the patriotic."

  "Patriotic? Patriotic! This isn't patriotism; it is fascism!" raged Ascaro. "You are deliberately undermining what's left of Lusitanian democracy!"

  "The same democracy that has been voting for my candidates more and more for over a decade," Caetano noted. "For all of your protests, you come into my office, surrounded by my party followers and subordinates. Are you not afraid I would have you assaulted, Assemblywoman?"

  "I wish you would so that I might show our world the threat you pose!"

  "Your family feels the same way?"

  To that, Ascaro's expression went stone cold, and fury burned in her dark eyes. "You would dare?"

  "I would never harm you, Assemblywoman, as you are a member of the Assembly and thus part of the State," Caetano said. "Your family are under the same umbrella. Should you be harmed, I would ensure your attackers were prosecuted to the full extent of Lusitanian law, even if they were the most patriotic members of my party. I am merely asking if you are that willing to put your family in the crosshairs of our political differences."

  While Caetano's words were spoken with reserve, they did not do anything to quell Ascaro's anger. "So you would sacrifice your own followers to strike at me. That is what I hear you saying!"

  "Then you have poor hearing," Caetano retorted. "You are the perfect example of why democracy is bad for our people in these times. You do not show judgment, you act on passion. You would drag our people into the war on those passions, or otherwise sign away our independence. That is why I oppose you. This is why I seek greater strength for the State."

  "You want the power for yourself," Ascaro shot back. "And I must stop you."

  "Now who is threatening whom, Assemblywoman?" Caetano asked.
>
  "I am not a fascist. I am a democrat. I will win the democratic way!" With that, Ascaro turned and stormed from the room.

  As she left, Caetano returned to her seat. "How interesting it would be if you were to succeed," she murmured to herself.

  Samina Khan was used to taking the lifts up to the docking arms of Trinidad Station. What she wasn't used to was carrying bags of personal belongings with her. Despite her protests that her living space on a ship would be limited, Uncle Ali and some of the neighborhood women collecting the Zakat in Quetta insisted on loading her with clothing and comfort items. Their pestering about a good first impression also led to her using her most colorful hijab, a gift from her mother that had bright reds and blues and greens in repeating, contrasting lines. From what Samina had seen, by the time she left Quetta, the entire district knew that she was off to join a ship crew.

  She almost stumbled given the weight of the bags slung on her back and over her arms. After adjusting to that weight, she found her footing and walked toward the dock Captain Henry specified. The dockworkers and spacers around her typically gave her some space but said nothing more.

  As she approached the double sliding doors leading into Repair Dock 3-G, a figure stepped up beside her. "Let me help with that." A metal hand picked up one of the bags on her left shoulder and lifted it.

  As the doors to 3-G opened, Samina looked over and slightly up to face Chief Khánh. The Hestian woman smiled at her. "Ready for a new life, fetcher?"

  At the nickname given to the most appreciated fetch techs—in comparison to the more childish "fetchie" the others merited—Samina beamed with pride and nodded. "Thank you so much, Chief. I… I don't know how I can repay you."

  "Samina, you're a regular prodigy, and you've done good work on my teams these past few years," Linh answered. "This is me repaying you." She made a face. "Mostly."

  "Oh?"

  She sighed. "The woman who saved my life in the Revolution is Captain Henry's second-in-command. He’s done a lot for her. He took her in when she needed an ally, well, an ally who wasn't a cripple." Linh gestured to her hand. "So when they need help to get repairs done without becoming paupers, well, I couldn't say no to that."

  Samina swallowed. "So… this isn't just finding me a good ship and crew. You're looking out for them too."

  Linh nodded. "I am." She gave Samina a sly look. "So yeah, it's a bit of pressure on your shoulders, fetcher, but I think you've got what it takes. I'm trusting them to look out for you just as much. Let's go introduce you and hope they've got room for all of this." She held up the bag. "Did your uncle demand you take your whole wardrobe?"

  Samina blushed. "Only most. For when I go to other worlds and must protect my modesty."

  "Well, Tia will help you there. If men bother you, just let her know. The girls on the Shadow Wolf will back you up."

  As they approached, Samina noted the damage to the Shadow Wolf. It was not the worst she'd seen. The worst she'd seen was what was left of her Uncle Ali's ship when the salvagers got it back to Trinidad Station, with only her and Ali still alive among the crew. By that standard, the Shadow Wolf wasn't so badly off. "You fit the fusion drive assembly in the aft holds?' she asked Linh.

  "Best place for 'em without having to cut out the entire stern," Linh replied. "They keep the aft holds in vacuum to fool customs inspectors. Independent traders typically get by on shoestring budgets, so inspectors usually don't think twice."

  "That's clever," Samina said, still surveying the damage. The ship was spaceworthy but would require days of repair work. "They couldn't afford a full crew with the material costs?"

  "Not with the recent price hike. You're their best shot at getting this thing moving in a reasonable amount of time."

  Metal stairs brought them up to the walkway for the middle gantry. They led to the ship's port airlock, set between the front and middle holds. Nearby a repaired hull breach was being resurfaced by a man with darker skin than Samina's, with hair arranged in rows on his head. It was a style Samina was not familiar with. She watched the head turn so the man could face her with a pair of light brown eyes. "Sister," he said, with an accent she couldn't place. "Peace ta ya."

  "Um, to you too. Are you one of the Faithful?" Samina asked, given his chin had a beard as well.

  To that, he laughed. "All of us are Faithful, in one way or another. I’m a Bahá'í myself, an' we see the followers of Abraham, Christ, an' Muhammad as siblings, all seekin' the truth of God just as we."

  "I see." She bowed her head to him. "Well, it is good to meet you. I am Samina Khan."

  "Vidiadhar Andrews. From New Antilla, if you're wonderin'."

  "I was born on Jinnah."

  "Ah." His eyes fell. "Ya lost a lot ta the League then, sister?"

  "My family's home. Pirates killed my parents and cousins." Samina's voice caught a little from emotion. Jinnah was becoming more of a dream than memory, but the wound from her parents' death, the hollow in her soul could still ache from that when she least expected it.

  "God doesn't always ease the pain," he said to her. "Can't without takin' something away from us. But ya don't worry, y'all see them again."

  "Do you know where Tia is?" Linh asked him, interrupting the conversation. Samina could see Linh wanted her to get to know her new shipmates, but Linh also had work to do.

  Even as she spoke, the door was sliding open. Samina watched a woman emerge who had Linh's complexion, if lighter and closer to the brown tone of Samina's own skin. She had a similar facial structure to Linh as well but with stormy gray eyes. "I'm here," she said to Linh. Her eyes turned to Samina. "So this is our new Engineer's Mate?" A small grin crossed her face. "You know this isn't a pleasure ride, right, kid?"

  "Sorry." Samina sighed, suitably embarrassed. "It's my uncle, he insisted. And the ladies from our district charity joined him."

  Tia let out a small chuckle. "I heard your uncle was a spacer. Certainly, he should know better. Well, good news for you is that we're shorthanded enough that we don't double-bunk. As things stand, you'll get a room to yourself."

  "I'll leave her to you, Tia," Linh said, setting the bag down she'd carried for Samina. "I've got a guild meeting in half an hour. See you tomorrow for the repair overview?"

  "I'll be there."

  Satisfied, Linh walked off.

  "Looking good, Vidia," Tia said to the man, who nodded back before returning to work on the resurfacing. She glanced Samina's way again and, after a moment, reached down and took the same bag Linh carried for Samina. "This way, Miss Khan."

  Samina dutifully followed the First Mate of her new ship into the hall inside the airlock. "This is a Holden-Nagata, right?" Samina asked. "Mark VI?"

  "Mark VII, actually."

  "Ah. Yeah, that makes more sense. But what about the bulge between the holds? Below the lower deck? That's not standard."

  "Nor is our fusion drive," Tia pointed out. "We'll explain, once you're settled."

  Together they went through the upper deck to the living quarters. Inside was an unfurnished room save for a mattress on a plastic bedframe. It was a little less space than Samina lived in with her uncle, which said more about that confined space than anything about the room on this model of ship. Samina set her things down and noticed a weird smell. "What is that?"

  Tia sighed and shook her head. "We've never quite gotten the smell out. Several months ago, we tried out a Tal'mayan hand for a couple of trips. He couldn't lay off the sweet smoke. It permeates the walls now."

  Samina's nose curled. "I still don't get why it's called sweet smoke."

  "Because to them, it tastes sweet. Or something. Put some air fresheners in the room, and you can fight off the smell. Until then, let me give you the tour."

  Tia showed Samina the rec-room and the galley next, then a trip to the infirmary. Captain Henry's office and the bridge came next. Finally, they journeyed to the back of the ship for the engineering spaces. Three medium-weight fusion cores powered most of the ship's syst
ems and were arranged in a triangle in the rear section of engineering. Coolant and electrical cabling abounded, as did the framework toward the bow for the Lawrence drive. She knew from the ship model layout that the drive was accessible from both the upper and lower decks and noted it'd been opened up from the upper deck. A light-skinned man leaned over it, working something inside. Before Tia or Samina could say anything, he pulled himself from it and looked their way with a pair of blue eyes. His sandy blond hair was slick from oils. "Ah, there you are," he spoke with an accent Samina hadn’t heard before.

  "Samina, this is Pieter Hartzog, your new boss," Tia said. "Pieter, this is Samina Khan."

  "So you're the nice fetch tech the lady boss's friend recommended, eh?" The way he drawled out the "oo" sounds was strange to Samina's ears, and she struggled to think of the accent. He grinned at her. "You think I talk funny, do you?"

  "No, sir," she said politely. "I just… I'm not familiar with it. Where are you from?"

  "New Oranje, girl. Ah, that's right. I'm a nasty ol' Boer, gonna hate and abuse you 'cause your skin isn't white as pearl." Pieter gave her a sardonic look.

  Tia rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him. Whatever idiocy they practice on his homeworld, he doesn't follow it."

  "Yeah. I'm harmless. Unless you f— unless you foul up my engine. Then, yeah, I get mean. But Chief Khánh says good things about you, and she's got good judgment. Ready to show what you can do?"

  Samina nodded. She could put up her things later. Getting right to work sounded right to her. She pulled the hijab from her head and said, "I am."

  "Well, don't want to get your pretty dress ruined." Pieter motioned to a locker. "Get a spare jumpsuit and get over here. We've got a Lawrence drive to overhaul."

  "Yes, sir!" Samina responded, not hiding enthusiasm. She knew Lawrence drives, and had worked on them even before she and Uncle Ali were stranded on Trinidad. She could do this! She breathed a silent prayer of thanks as she rushed to the jumpsuit locker.