by B. V. Larson
Engels gripped Straker’s biceps so her nails dug into them through the cloth of his tunic. “To our warships? Yes. But it’s not worth another city, a city full of innocent children. Like your sister Mara.”
“Ouch.” Straker licked his lips. “Pascal’s Wager in reverse,” he mouthed, too low for anyone but Carla to hear. “Little upside, horrendous downside.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the outrage drain out of him, leaving only a sense of helplessness.
Finally, he spoke. “You’re right, Carla. There’s no reason to push LaPierre. Put out orders: no contact with the Nawlins Defense Command. Absolute blackout. Choose a few ships for a patrol and blockading force. Tell them to search for and destroy any message drones they find, and to run if anything they can’t handle transits in. We’ll choose our next target and move on.”
Straker left the bridge and the details to Engels. He headed below decks for a meal, a shower, and some rack time.
***
“Where’ve you been?” Straker asked six hours later as Loco rounded the corner of the passageway. “I’ve been banging on your door.”
Loco swaggered up and put in his code, pushing the door open and sliding past Straker. “I’ve been doing some banging of my own. Might do you some good to follow my example. Maybe that stick will dislodge from your ass.”
Straker followed Loco in and shut the door behind him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it always means, Derek. The only difference is, I’m starting to get sick of going around in the same old orbits with you as the center of the universe.”
Straker sighed. “Look, Loco, whatever’s on your mind, let’s talk it over. I know I can be singleminded—”
“—you mean obsessed—”
“—okay, obsessed, every now and then. I am the way I am.”
“Oh, I know that, Derek. I’m just wondering why I put myself through it.”
“Through what?”
Loco waved at the bare cabin. “This Eternal Hero shit, living in metal boxes. When does it end? When do we get some R&R?”
“We’re on a roll, Loco. We’re going to overthrow the Mutuality. I can feel it!”
“Don’t you mean you’re going to liberate the galaxy? Or did you finally come to your senses on that one?”
Straker sighed and sat on a pull-down chair. “That’s an exaggeration, I know. The galaxy has millions of stars.”
“Billions, Derek. Billions. Our corner is just a tiny little drop, and given the density of aliens, there are probably millions of sentient species out there. And the human race has always been screwed up. You ain’t gonna fix it yourself. But I’m beginning to think you’ll kill yourself and all of us trying.”
“You’re losing faith in my mission?”
“Don’t you get it? I never had faith in any stupid mission. I only had faith in you.”
“But something’s changed.”
Loco shrugged and sighed, throwing himself onto his bunk. “No, nothing’s changed. I guess that’s the problem. Once we escaped and secured ourselves a nice secret base, I thought you and Carla would settled down on Freiheit and make some babies, and I’d partner with Campos…maybe a side girl or two, but hey, I’ll grow up eventually. Murdock gets our ’suits synched with our brainlinks, you and me could go raiding whenever we needed supplies or got sick of the old ball-and-chains…I could live that life. Fun, freedom, only as much responsibility as we wanted.”
“Damn, Loco, I never knew.”
“You never asked, Derek, because you never see things from anyone else’s point of view. I was willing to go along with you, but it’s not enough anymore. I want more for myself than to be your sidekick. Anyone’s sidekick.”
Straker caught a whiff of something then, a perfume… He sat bolt upright. “Tachina. You’re seeing her!”
“Seeing her, hanging with her, banging her every night and twice on Sunday. Yeah, Derek, I am—and I think I finally found a woman that’s enough for me, all by herself. She really gets me, and she takes care of me, has faith in me. I’ve been ‘seeing’ her ever since she came aboard, but you never noticed, never asked, never cared. Except you care now, and you’re mad, because why?”
“Because she’s trouble! She was Murdock’s woman. Now she’s jumped to you. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“It tells me Murdock’s a geek nerd that probably never left the missionary position, and I’m a lot hotter. I don’t blame her for leaving him.”
“He’ll be a wreck. We need to send her back to the Nebula.”
“So, big daddy Derek has to tell everybody what to do, who to sleep with, how to think and act. That’s your perfect world, isn’t it? A military world where you’re the boss and everybody salutes smartly like good little drones, even your best friend and your woman.” Loco stood. “Well, Carla might put up with it, but I won’t.” He opened the door.
“Dammit… Commander Paloco, stand fast! That’s an order!”
Loco sneered. “See? Proved my point. You say we’re best friends, but the first thing you do when I get out of line is try to pull rank. Well, fuck you and everybody who looks like you, Liberator Straker. You like liberation when it’s far away, but not so much close by. You’re so big on freedom? I’m taking mine. Either brig me or leave me the hell alone.”
Straker stared in shock at the door as it slammed.
Tachina… that bitch. She was the problem. She’d been aboard for weeks, but Wolverine was big enough and she was smart enough to stay out of Straker’s way while she twisted Loco around her finger. She was ambitious, she wanted power, and if she couldn’t have the big boss, she’d take his best friend.
Carla was right. He should have listened to her, gotten rid of the concubine long ago… dropped her off somewhere, maybe sent her to Sachsen, where she’d have a whole system to sink or swim in.
He still could, but should he? Right now Loco was angry, but he’d get over it. He might not get over taking away his new entertainment. That’s all she was to him anyway, Straker was sure, a temporary obsession. He’d seen it before with Loco. He’d go gaga over some hottie for a while, and then lose interest. It just had to play itself out. At least he couldn’t really go anywhere beyond Wolverine… or the fleet, anyway.
Could he?
When Straker reached the bridge, he saw Engels slumped in her captain’s chair, dozing, and felt a sudden, irrational guilt. “Hey,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing them gently. “You going to go get some shuteye?”
Engels sat up straight and stretched, blinking at the myriad displays. “We’re almost to the transition point. I’ll sleep a solid ship-day once we’re in sidespace, I promise.”
“Where are we headed?”
“Briefing’s there on the holo-table.”
Straker went to look, and touched the lit key for start, initiating a short presentation. “Bendix system. No habitable planets, lots of habitats, moons, factory facilities, lightly defended… why there?”
“We need repairs, spare parts, fuel… There are also two big shipyards. Civilian grade, but we’re not going to find anything better that we can seize intact.”
“We can’t spare the time for repairs. We have to keep liberating systems for this to work.”
Engels stood to join him at the table. “We will, but Ermine and Delhi and two dozen smaller ships aren’t fit for another real fight. We’ll leave them at Bendix for refit and move on.”
“Hmm. I see what you mean, but I have a better idea.” He looked over at Sensors. “Bring me up a local star map centered on Nawlins, showing sidespace times between systems.”
When the hologram materialized, he examined it for a few moments. “Yes, we can do this.”
“Do what?”
“The ships in worst shape go to Bendix. As long as there’s no Mutuality fleet parked there, they can easily beat the defenders. The locals will probably surrender anyway. They make repairs and meet us at Ruxin for the
rendezvous with Indomitable.”
Engels nodded cautiously. “What about our ships still in good shape?”
“We’ve smashed the fleet the Mutuality sent against us. We’re pretty sure they stripped the local systems to assemble that fleet—which means the only opposition we face is fixed defenses. So, we split into four fast task forces, each centered around a battlecruiser. Hit four systems, then four more, taking advantage of their weakness. If a task force runs into anything they can’t handle, they move on to the next system. We’ll be like cavalry raiding behind enemy lines.”
“What about our auxiliaries and freighters?”
Straker moved around the holo-table, examining the star map from all sides. “We found out what a liability they can be. Let’s load all the fuel, supplies and good troops we can onto the warships, pack them to the gills, and disperse the non-warships. Send those to spread word of our victory, dropping off message drones in new systems or going home. Tell everyone to rendezvous at Ruxin the day after Indomitable’s due there.”
“Dividing our forces is dangerous,” said Engels. “It’s bad military doctrine. You rejected the idea yourself last time we discussed it. If we’d split to seize more worlds, we’d have lost the battle we just won.”
“The exception proves the rule. The best time to split and press the advantage is just after any battle, what doctrine calls the pursuit phase, when the enemy is in disarray. This is the pursuit phase. The more we take, the more systems will revolt on their own as they see us winning, or surrender without a fight when we show up. Success breeds success. We’ve freed eight systems so far and I bet we can free another twelve to twenty more before we meet Indomitable—and who knows how many more will simply throw off their chains?”
Engels sighed. “So much for hitting the rack soon. That’s another half-day of work reorganizing before we all transit out of here. I’ll start issuing the orders.”
Straker leaned over to speak in her ear. “Put Loco in charge of one task force, with your best flag captain.” Straker grinned with a touch of malice. “And assign Wagner and those battlesuit-knights of his as Loco’s personal guard.”
“He piss you off somehow?”
“We had a disagreement. Besides, he needs responsibility or he gets sloppy.” Straker decided not to mention Tachina’s role.
Engels waggled her eyebrows. “Make a man out of him, eh?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Straker put his finger in the hologram, at a star that lay just outside the reach of marked human settlements. “What’s this system?”
With a few taps of her fingers, Engels zoomed in on it. “It’s nothing. A bare star with only a few asteroids. You really need to learn how to work this holo-table, Derek, instead of constantly asking overtasked officers to do it for you.”
“When did a Ruxin ever admit to being overtasked?”
“Good point, but it might happen. I’ll show you how to do it during our next sidespace transit. It’s no harder than manual HUD control for a mechsuit.”
“How would you know?”
Engels’ nose crinkled. “Oh, I took the Sledgehammer out for a walkabout a time or two back on Freiheit. Manny’s a soft touch, and I am an officer, and a woman, so…”
Straker snorted. “What else don’t I know?”
“A girl has to have her secrets.”
“Now you’re sounding like…” Straker bit his tongue.
“Like Tachina?”
“Yeah,” he said lamely.
“Thank the Cosmos she’s a long way away, huh?”
After a moment, he said, “Ah…”
“Yes?” Engels cocked her head and widened her eyes.
Suddenly, Straker realized she knew. And if she knew, she must be playing with him, or testing him. Best to come clean. “About that… I should have told you before, but it didn’t seem important. Loco brought her aboard a while back. She stowed away on Lockstep, and Gibson said she kept trying to sneak in to see the Lazarus, so I thought it prudent to separate them.”
“You could have put the Lazarus here and left Tachina on Lockstep.”
“Gibson said his contingent of troops were getting hard to handle with her there, and I was distracted, so I told Loco to bring her along.”
Engels regarded him soberly. “You can’t think of everything, Derek. Next time, though, keep me in the loop. What else am I here for if not to think of things you don’t?”
Straker raised his palms. “Okay, okay. I will. Now let’s go liberate some more systems.”
Chapter 22
Starfish Nebula, Freiheit
Zaxby gave up trying to reach Frank Murdock via comlink. His technicians claimed the man had hardly left his bungalow in the last weeks, showing up intermittently to work, unwashed and unkempt even by his lax standards. Fortunately—until now—the work of improving Freiheit had been routine.
But Zaxby needed Murdock now, much as he hated to admit it. Against the odds, Indomitable had arrived at the Starfish Nebula with all sixteen modules, though Doctor Nolan and Chief Quade had both predicted at least one failure. Now, every technical resource must be brought to bear on the battleship, and that meant the annoying human, Frank Murdock.
Zaxby commandeered a cart and quickly arrived at Murdock’s bungalow. Unlike the other neat, cheery dwellings nearby, his garden was untidy, his curtains drawn.
Neighbors greeted Zaxby with friendly waves. He briefly considered asking them about Murdock, but decided that would merely delay things. Whatever malady was afflicting the brainiac must be remedied as soon as possible. So, he curled up a tentacle and banged on the front door.
Over two minutes of intermittent racket apparently convinced Murdock to open it. He stood in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a pair of dirty briefs. “What the hell do you want, Zaxby?”
Zaxby pushed his way into the bungalow and shut the door. It appeared untidy even by human standards, and it smelled stale. “In the name of Commodore Straker, I require you to work.”
Murdock blinked through his stringy hair. “Why’re you here? I thought you were out saving the galaxy or something.”
“Your words are imprecise and hyperbolic. Commodore Straker and I were liberating star systems, not ‘saving the galaxy.’ After all, a galaxy can hardly be saved by a few thousand people, even if they are as expert as I am.” Zaxby thrust a tentacle at Murdock’s nose. “In fact, we have need of every half-competent technical specialist we can muster, so that means you.”
“Go away. I ain’t interested.”
“Are you ill?”
“Yeah…” Murdock said. “I’m sick.”
“Have you seen a physician?”
Murdock snickered. “Sure. I have a doctor’s note to stay home, okay?”
“Show me this note.”
“Oh, piss off, will you? Just leave me alone. I’m going back to bed.” He turned to leave the room.
Zaxby grasped Murdock’s elbow. “I queried your fellows. They say your illness is not of the body, but of the mind. They say you are lovesick for the concubine Tachina.”
“She’s not a concubine, all right? She’s my fiancée!”
“You expected to formalize your relationship? I have bad news for you. She has already taken up with… someone else.” Only at the last moment did it occur to Zaxby that naming Loco as Tachina’s new paramour might be unwise.
“Liar!” Murdock jerked his arm free.
“Although I have lied upon occasion, this is not one of them, I assure you. Now, you must clean up and come with me. We have work to do.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Zaxby drew himself up to his full height, putting all four eyes nearly at Murdock’s chin level. “You are coming with me in ten minutes, even if I have to wash and dress you myself.”
Murdock raised his fists. “You’ll have to fight me.”
“I will prevail. I have eight limbs, and you are no warrior.”
Murdock deflated. “All right, all right. I’l
l come. Got nothing else to do, I guess.”
By the time the two arrived at the BCC, Doctor Nolan had Indomitable’s schematics on every holoscreen and visiplate. At Zaxby’s direction, the whole technical crew had assembled within the center’s control room, human and Ruxin alike, and Nolan began to brief.
Four hours later Zaxby called for a meal break, but the group of geeks hardly paid him attention. Obsession with a technical challenge had apparently seized them, and all four factions—Murdock’s humans, the Ruxins, Doctor Nolan’s scientists and Chief Quade’s more prosaic team of hands-on mechanics—seemed energized with a sense of purpose.
But the difficulties described by the pessimistic Doctor Nolan and the more phlegmatic Chief Quade were immense. Every simple, inexpensive solution to Indomitable’s problems—its complexity, its lack of spare parts for proper maintenance, the ambitiousness of its fragile technology—had been tried over the years, with little success.
The infusion of new blood and the possibility of being given the resources to finally realize their dreams galvanized the former Mutualists, and after they refueled with food from the cafeteria, they began to plan how to do it.
At the end of twelve more hours, the four leaders—Zaxby, Nolan, Quade and Murdock—agreed on a rough finding. It would take over eighty million creature-days to make Indomitable shipshape, assuming all the raw materials and manufactured parts became available.
Unfortunately, even if Premier Vuxana approved half a million skilled Ruxin neuters to work, completion of all tasks would take more than three hundred days, assuming everyone worked more than they slept. And Zaxby had fewer than forty days before the battleship must be in sidespace, on its way to Ruxin for the rendezvous.
When this finding was briefed, the combined technical group all stared in dismay at Zaxby, as if to ask what could be done. He realized that by now everyone considered him to be in charge, which was only natural and right, so he resolved to rise to their expectations.
“We have no choice but to prioritize,” he said. “Every hour is precious, and we have already used sixteen of them. You’ve identified all the tasks. You must decide what can be done in the time allotted in order to make Indomitable fit to travel in sidespace, to maneuver, and to reliably fire its primary weaponry. Those items must take precedence. All else is secondary.”
