“They would not do such a thing. To betray the Emperor at the very start of the campaign? It would be an abomination!”
“The guard mentioned that we are being attacked by pirates. Could the same people who control the pirates have attacked you with the madness?”
Mindy howled in anger and fear. Flower called to her again, “Mindy, please be calm. The doctors are warning me that your new stomach is still just a thin film of tissue over a form and might be damaged by too much stress. If I ask you something too terrible, just say that you refuse to answer.”
We were interrupted by more maneuvers. There was a long acceleration and a weird slew sequence like nothing we had felt before. It ended in a bump that ran down the length of the ship and a long, gentle acceleration, as gentle as any freighter, but longer, much longer. It did not feel like any military maneuver I had ever felt in my admittedly brief experience on active warships. Yet we were still alive and the acceleration alarms cut off quickly. My fear faded and curiosity began to eat at me. I dearly hoped someone would give us a situation update before we had to transfer to the Columbia.
We waited silently until the gentle acceleration had continued long enough that it clearly was not an accident. Flower continued, as gently as I had ever heard her in any interrogation.
“Mindy, you do not need to answer this if you do not want to, but you said that your babies would be aborted. What did you mean by that?”
I thought that the question was too much. Mindy burst into tears and wept hopelessly for some time. I thought I understood. She was a grown woman in her prime, proud of her skills, a warrior who had successfully evaded station security and agents like myself for years. Yet here she was, the ruined hulk of her body clipped into a bed in a dungeon, helpless and surrounded by her enemies. My own vision of the Hellgate was not much different.
Eventually she wound down and started to talk. “At my Repository Party, I formally joined the Imperium and volunteered for the Forward Division. I do not expect to live through this war, but they promised if I served well my eggs would be used to raise a new generation of heroes. Last month I was told that I had greatly exceeded my own performance goals. As a reward, two of my eggs were being released as first prizes for the top students in the Martian Academy, an extra child each for the boy and girl who earned the highest honours. I was so proud.
“And now I am here, a failure and a collaborator, a disgrace to the Imperium. My babies will be aborted. I want to die with them.”
I could not stand it any longer. “Mindy, no one here wants you to die. Surely, they will not harm the babies until they know where you are, so our first goal will be to keep you hidden until you can redeem yourself in their eyes. I do not know how, but we will find a way. In the meantime, the few people who know you are here will keep the secret.”
“No, he will not. Oysterboy delivered me to this room. He works with the Elysium Weaver’s Guild. He told me how I am to redeem myself, how to save my babies. He gave me another bomb. I am supposed to entice all of you to come close so I can kill you. He will tell them as soon as you die. But I do not want to kill you, so now my babies will die.”
I called the number the guard gave us, 56123, and said “EMERGENCY BOMB DISPOSAL”.
The curt answer came back, “Sir!”
Sergei called, “Elysium Weaver’s Guild is one of the big factions, active for decades, has strong corporate connections and some of those companies are incorporated in the Belt.”
Marin called, “Get the guard in to hold me. I am unclipping to tend to Mindy, and I do not want to fly around the room if the ship starts to dance again.”
She unclipped and moved over to Mindy without even waiting for the guard, who stepped through the door saying, “One at a time please – Sir, you should not be up!”
Marin replied, “Get over here and hold me steady. I have a patient in distress who must receive attention now. Mindy, where is the bomb. You did not swallow it, I hope. Your stomach is too fragile to hold that much weight, without considering another explosion.”
Mindy shook her head. “It is in my mouth, stuck to the top. To detonate it, I am supposed to poke the two ends with my tongue.”
“Mindy, open up and let me see. I worked for a while as a battlefield surgeon and have removed quite a few explosives from inside my patients. Ahhh, I can see it. It looks like an older model detonator. I can remove it easily. But my girl, Oysterboy lied to you. The bomb would not have killed us, only taken the top of your head off. We would undoubtedly be blamed for your death, and that might be used as a pretext for further aggression. I would say that Oysterboy wants you dead, perhaps to cover his own failures.”
Marin rubbed her hands up and down Mindy’s arms, who fell into a deep sleep within moments. Marin had clearly applied a strong soporific.
There was a clatter as the door opened again and a three-person bomb disposal unit stepped in, all wearing heavy armour. The back of my head wondered who was left in control of the ship, but Marin started snapping orders.
“I and this woman need to get to a surgery with an autodoc. She has a detonator attached to the top of her mouth. Kick out anyone who is already there unless ze has something worse than a bomb in zer head. Let me get my own armour on but get her moving now.”
Two members of the bomb disposal unit clapped a casing around Mindy’s head, picked up her bed and medical equipment, then swung out into the hall. The third member lingered to help Marin don her armour before picking her up and raced after the others.
Evgenia sent, “I have just called General Molongo. I told him Mindy was here but has gone to surgery to have a bomb removed from her head. This is about to become a diplomatic issue that we need to discuss ASAP.”
I replied, “We never did ask whether she wanted to apply for – what did they call it? asylum? – Yes, I think that was it. But if she is concerned about her babies, she will not want to stay with us. A different post within the Imperium would be more appropriate.”
We spent a tense period waiting to hear what was happening in the surgery and how Molongo would react. Twenty minutes after they left, the guard outside our door asked permission to enter. Morris and Singh were carried in, leaving a small group of unconscious people clipped into their own beds in the hall. The mixed group of sailors and marines carrying the beds looked exhausted, having probably been on high alert for the whole trip and missing a lot of sleep over the previous few days.
Morris and Singh were both awake, but still doped on painkillers. At least the dose was lower and they were almost rational. After a brief period watching the scenes on the walls, Morris burst out, “I was supposed to have written a speech. I have been sleeping too long. I need to get started.”
Singh chided him, “Mahatma, relax. We will be lucky to be awake when the ceremony happens. Dapeng will have to write his own speeches. Marcus will help him. The world does not rest on our shoulders, you know. Not anymore.”
I asked, “Would that be Admiral Wang’s inaugural speech? I wish I could be there, but it seems we have other assignments at the time.”
Singh laughed, “Not just his, but almost everyone’s. There are no competent senior authorities left in the Admiralty, so there are a few incompetent ones who will be kept under tight leash reading prepared speeches. We do not want to reveal just how badly we were hit during the emoji attacks, but we do want full acceptance of his authority within the TDF by the Imperium. Poor Dapeng and Marcus are writing speeches for everyone. Mahatma and I were supposed to help.
“The real surprise, which Marcus just told us when we woke up, will be the guests from the Imperial fleet who will be attending. Dapeng and Marcus seem to have reached a good working relation with their Marshal, the head of Forward Command. Who would have guessed? So, we are having the Marshal of Forward Command and five of his senior Captains at the ceremony. That makes the speeches much more delicate to compose, and it seems we still do not have a coherent statement out of the Council to guide us.
“We were going forward to help them when the assassin struck. They did catch him, didn’t they?”
“Oh, yes,” I assured her. “It is hard to hide on a ship, even one as big as this.”
“Changing the subject,” Morris interrupted, “What was Virginia doing down there? She chased everyone out of the surgery and had a big row with one of the ship’s surgeons over who got to do the surgery on a strange woman, who was definitely not one of the crew and not one of our delegates either.”
Doctor Tran saved me from a very awkward question. “I am sorry, Sir, but that would be gossiping about a patient she has been treating and is strictly forbidden.”
Just then, Molongo appeared at the door. “This has been the most bizarre day, and it seems to be getting worse. Where is Doctor Marin? Agent Ashura sent me a totally confused message about a bomb in the terrorist’s mouth and a new diplomatic crisis. As though we do not have one already. Tell me that she has not gone to the surgery!”
Oh boy.
“Yes, Sir, she insisted on going to remove the bomb, which is actually just a detonator, from Mindy’s mouth. She took her armour for the surgery. And Minister Morris says she had sharp words with the surgeon about doing it herself. I am afraid I do not know how things are going beyond that.”
Molongo was not ready to let the issue go. “But, how could that happen? The terrorist was supposed to be in the flotation tank. Cap Wang told the marine who was guarding her to summons one of the surgeons to care for her.”
“Yes, I gather that was the intent but she was delivered to our room instead. The marine who delivered her apparently placed the detonator in her mouth, telling her that blowing us up was her one chance to redeem her reputation with the Imperium. She surely would not have believed him without the cocktail of cooperative meds she is being fed, nor did she recognize that the detonator would only explode her own head. In any case, she refused to trigger it and instead told us. She called the marine Oysterboy. Does that mean anything to you?”
Molongo had grown steadily angrier as I spoke. “Yes, it does. Osterburger calls himself the Pearly King, and his sidekick Maori chose Oysterboy as his code name. I just checked the duty roster; Osterburger was the marine guarding her. Osterburger and Maori have both completed their service as orderlies, so they would have had no trouble removing her from the tank and attaching her medical equipment to a gurney. While Maori delivered Mindy here, Osterburger must have been grabbing their weapons. Then, the two of them tried to assassinate the ministers. They are going to wake up in a world of pain when we arrive at the Admiralty.”
Morris interrupted again, “How is the speech writing going? Are you still getting along with our Imperial honour guard? We were just starting to discuss how to make a speech that would flatter the Emperor without offending the whole Terrestrial Council.”
Singh laughed again, still loopy from the painkillers, but no longer morose. “Stop glaring, Marcus. They cannot punish us. We are already dead and cannot be ministers anymore.”
Molongo looked completely nonplussed, then grim. He looked at our surprised faces and said, “What you have just heard is an Ultra-Secret, like almost everything about this case. I was supposed to tell you hours ago that everyone here except Agents Douglas and Pinter are now officially dead. They were only spared another death because their former personae died before they came aboard the Mao. You will be issued new ID when we reach the Moon, but I am afraid your previous careers are over and cannot be resumed. Nor would I recommend contacting your friends or families, who will be informed of your deaths on Council duty within the next hour or so, ostensibly during the iron rain. Any such contact would risk drawing the attention of whatever passes for Martian Intelligence and could be lethal. I hope Agent Douglas has discussed your disposition when we reach the Moon. We will have to discuss your future careers when we get there.
“I have been so busy writing speeches, I have barely had time to take a leak. I have not even been able to check with the surgeon who was supposed to be taking care of the terrorist.
“Damn and double damn. I have been ignoring messages not marked as extremely urgent but I see that I have one from the surgeon asking why the terrorist was not in her tank. There is another one from Doctor Tran asking why she was delivered here. They were only marked as urgent. If I had paid attention to either, we might have intercepted Osterburger and Maori before they tried to assassinate the Ministers. Mahatma, Anastasia, I am so very sorry. And I also see that Agent Ashura called me three times, jumping the urgency each time.
“If you are wondering, I am dead as well. I had really expected that death would be more peaceful, but they say that there will be no rest for the wicked.”
He thought a moment. “Lest I leave the impression that we are surrounded by disaster, the fact is that we currently have extremely cordial relations with the officers in Forward Command. I suspect this is partly because they have, without knowing it, received the token that strips out emojis. Regardless of the reason, they have detached five ships to accompany us to the Moon to attend Admiral Wang’s inauguration, which Mahatma has dubbed our Imperial honour guard.
“It has been tremendously useful to have them along because we have been attacked already by pirates. The Marshal handled negotiations with the pirates, most of whom fled at the approach of Imperial ships. When a particularly belligerent pirate launched a volley of missiles, he gave us permission to destroy them with our lasers. When they brought out a second missile rack, he gave permission for us to disable it with our rail gun. The Mao, damaged as we know it to be, still appears to them as a formidably powerful vessel, and the appropriate transport for an Admiral.
“It will probably be of interest to you to know that Cap Thieu and her crew are also in good shape. The Hammerhead, unfortunately, is not. It is taking a much slower than usual passage to the Moon because the power couplers to the ion drive were damaged by acid bugs. It is a subtle problem and may require a redesign for the couplers. In any case, the Hammerhead was under attack by the pirates as we approached and was damaged by one of their rail guns. The Marshal gave explicit instructions permitting us to destroy the criminals, so we launched a salvo of missiles, one for each of the pirate ships, then as a demonstration of goodwill used our lasers to destroy all our own missiles except the one targeting the vessel that had struck the Hammerhead. The laser shot for that vessel destroyed its laser turret as it tried to defend itself. As a gesture of contempt, the final missile was never armed but struck the pirates on their engine, which has left the ship helpless and awaiting Lunar Recovery. The remaining pirates fled from both our justice and the Imperium’s.
“It will be interesting to see if the crew of the damaged ship requests to be released from Lunar Recovery to Imperial custody, to the Moon, or even handed over to the TDF. We almost never capture pirate crews alive, and LR will have to be careful they do not all commit suicide before they can be rescued. I do not think there has ever been a case like this.”
I looked at Evgenia, but she was already riveted by the news.
Molongo hardly noticed, continuing, “So, with all the damage it has taken, the Hammerhead is now a defenceless minnow, down to a tenth of its normal drive power and two functioning lasers. We want them safely inside the defensive perimeter of the lunar stations when we arrive. We do not want to rely on Lunar Recovery in front of the Martians, nor ask them for help with a ship so badly incapacitated by the bugs. For that matter, we do not want to infest their ships with bugs at this delicate stage.
“All that odd maneuvering you felt was the Mao swinging around to face the Hammerhead with their two meteor shields bumping together. When their power couplers fried, they were already going faster than we had intended, so we were playing catch-up when the pirates started to close in. Just as well, it turns out. The Mao’s engine is braking both ships. When we get close to the Moon, we will separate to allow the Hammerhead to arrive under its own power. That maneuver has never been done before.
Douglas, I think our discussions of conventional and unconventional warfare got Dapeng’s creative juices going.
“If you want to say anything to Cap Thieu before the next mission starts, now would be a good time, because we are close enough that the transmissions would not be detected by any of the Martian ships. However, Agent San Diego, Acting Admiral Wang says you are explicitly forbidden to speak with her directly. Pass any messages you have through Agent Douglas. Do you hear?”
He looked around shaking his head. “This is a day for the history books, and I fear the balladeers will be busy for months. Tell Doctor Marin when she gets back that I want to speak with her. If we have time. Our schedule is thoroughly out of whack. I will have to check with Dapeng where we are right now.”
He turned and left, and I guessed he was going back to more speech writing.
I wondered if Begum still wanted to become a Banshee. If so, I could pass her the new encrypted channel I had created. I was about to call the MI office, when it occurred to me that it was probably not called the MI office anymore, having been transferred to ACC. My first message was therefore a polite inquiry to the operator about what the office was called these days. The operator replied that it was now the ACC office, as I surmised, but pronounced ack-oh, as though you had something stuck at the back of your throat. I told the operator that was good to know, and asked zim to forward a request to Cap Thieu on the Hammerhead to call me when she had five minutes free in her duties.
She responded within a few minutes, saying that she was almost frantic keeping the ship intact with everyone in armour the whole trip, but now was less frantic than the previous few hours. I explained about the new channel. She agreed to open the new channel but warned me that she might not be allowed to join the Banshees. It was something she would discuss with me when she got back from her next mission. I wished her well on that mission, but on a whim asked her if she would like some reading material so she would make a more informed decision about whether to join us or not. She hesitated, and I was not sure whether it was indecision or competing demands on her attention. I passed her the original documentation for the Fairy Dust Investigation, which included our pocket biographies, the new report we had just finished, and a selection of my early reports as an agent on Mars. Then she told me she had to break off because there were shuddering vibrations coming from the hull in the weapons bays. Spaceships were designed to be pushed from the stern, not from the bow, and some of the structural elements in the weapons bays had been badly corroded by acid bugs.
Lord Banshee- Fugitive Page 20
