Uubiid was afraid of this. He had twenty various ships under construction on his erection floor but that number did not seem to interest the commander. Not in the least. He wanted to see the doppelganger ship. The one based on the ship the humans had called the Mobile Bay, named after some obscure saltwater inlet on some unknown human continent. The specifications for this vessel were removed from the actual ship when the Malguurian freedom fighters had liberated the warship from human hands and set its course against an unsuspecting Colonial Navy Second Fleet.
Those archived recordings had been spirited off the ship along with several human hostages. Prisoners of war, he thought the proper term was. As far as the Intelligence Directorate knew, the humans had no idea those plans were compromised.
“As you wish, your eminence. First I must make sure the secret facility is notified of your arrival.”
Phatie looked down at his officer. “No. I purposefully left this one item off my itinerary. I do not want your workers to know of my presence. I wish to observe the work without the typical dog-and-pony show.”
Uubiid turned his head from one side to the other. “That expression eludes me, sir. Is it human in origin?”
“Colonel Inskaap was correct in his assessment yesterday. We have to learn how these creatures talk and think. We must become familiar with all of the nuances of their guttural language. The phrase means boorii tuu giiduub — unnecessary pomp and ceremony — meaning I want to see what is actually going on behind those doors, admiral, not some canned walk-through designed to hide any operational flaws. Do you understand me now?”
Uubiid shook his head in assent. “Right this way, your eminence.” It pained him to have to act like a junior officer, especially in front of his own junior officers; humiliation was stock in trade treatment from the Piru Torgud.
Phatie and his entourage walked briskly toward a huge sectional roll-up door and went through three levels of security before they entered the secret erection facility. The room was almost two renaade long and half as high. At the top of the space several huge rolling cranes slowly trundled on overhead tracks swinging equipment and construction gear in brightly colored containers. Huge arc welders worked their magic on the port side of the vessel while finishers scurried along the right flank. A steady drone of mechanized hammering and wheezing sounds filled the space. All of the construction workers wore helmets and ear covers.
“What is the completion cycle looking like, admiral. Are your men still on schedule?”
The admiral produced a reader and read off the figures. He waited for a response from Bale Phatie but none was forthcoming. The supreme commander clasped his hands behind his back and took a few tentative steps toward the ship’s left flank. Sitting on a huge raised pavillion was the power plant awaiting final installation. “Will that engine actually move a ship of this size through warped space?” he asked over his shoulder.
One of Uubiid’s staff officers spoke next. “Oh, yes,” he said seriously, “with the improvements we’ve made to the basic human design, this is going to be the fastest ship in both fleets. What we did —”
Phatie cut him off. “I am not really interested in the technical details, captain. What I wanted to know was if this engine has been thoroughly tested. If it has, why have I not seen the performance curves in my weekly reports from this facility?”
“Because we did not want to risk the information being compromised, sir,” Admiral Uubiid said. “Colonel Inskaap thought a bit of secrecy would be wise as he is always worried about human spies infiltrating this facility, our shipyard.”
“So, it has or has not been tested? Anybody care to answer without all the stupid superlatives?”
No one spoke quickly enough for Phatie. He turned on his heels and walked up to a group of technicians milling around the drive engine. He tore the headset off one of the men and shouted at him. “What is your name, and what do you do here?”
The worker was startled and looked at the contingent of big brass converging on his position. His co-workers suddenly found other interesting things to do and slowly sidled away from Phatie and the approaching throng.
“I, umm, my name is Fouuris, Chief Engineer Naale Fouuris.” He let his eyes drift to the tall stranger’s face and then lower to his sash. The gleaming sunburst decorations almost made him loose his water. Whew. He had started to say, “And who the geluur wants to know?”
“Well tell me, chief engineer, what is your assigned duty here?”
The chief took a deep breath. He was looking at the breastplate of the Piru Torgud. “I am in charge of drive installation. I was going over some operational guidelines with my technicians.” He paused before adding, “Your eminence.”
Just as I suspected, Phatie thought. Inskaap had been correct. These officers were not up to the task. In the years of planning and scheming, these men had secretly hidden their cowardice and actually had no desire to re-engage the humans. Uubiid was a disgrace. Just months before the final assault, he wanted to play games with the future of the Malguur Domain.
“Has this engine been tested? Any static run-ups, any anchored bench testing?”
Fouuris tried to look past Phatie to the solemn face of Uubiid. Phatie shifted his body slightly to prevent the technician from making eye contact with the admiral. “No, your eminence, it has not been tested. Our computers tell us that the mechanism is sound, the design is functional, the improvements we’ve made have increased the overall efficiency by at least seventy percent. The drive engine cannot be tested in atmosphere. The superstructure is due to be towed to orbit very soon and the drive will be installed at that time, sir.”
Finally, a straight answer. “What is that worker doing there, Chief Fouuris”
The engineer looked behind him. “He’s welding the outer hull engine access ports, sir. The lifting crane footings will sit in those wells when the drive engine is installed. In orbit.”
“Call that man over here, chief. Have him bring his portable welder.”
What was this? Uubiid shifted his weight from leg to leg. He didn’t recall the Piru Torgud having machinist or welding credentials in his background. Was this to be some kind of impromptu welding demonstration?
The junior officers in the entourage began to step away from the admiral.
When the welder arrived, rolling the portable generator with him, Phatie reached out and took the business end of the powerful electric arc welder wand from the worker’s unsteady grip.
“You see, admiral, there is some wisdom in the human expression that goes something like this: If you want something done correctly you must do it yourself.”
“Admiral Uubiid, sir, should I —”
A raised hand by Phatie stopped the chief engineer from completing his thought.
“It seems this job is too hot for you, Uubiid,” he said with a sneer. His hand hit the stud on the side of the wand and a blue white spark jumped from the end. He pushed the wand right into Uubiid’s neck and tapped the controls a second time. The admiral’s head burst into flames and his demise was so swift that his arms only moved a fraction as he tried to grab for the wand. The smell of burning hair and flesh was locked in the expanding cloud of smoke at first but after several seconds, the odor drifted to each of the assembled men. Phatie held the wand in place for what seemed like forever, Uubiid dancing a flapping dance like a hooked Malguurian eel. Finally he released the wand and it clattered to the stone floor along with the very dead admiral.
“Which one of you captains expounded on the merits of this engine?” Phatie said to the retreating crowd. His voice boomed out from the smoke and it took several seconds before one of the officers responded.
“It was me, your eminence, Captain Koraath,” the tall officer said, extending his left arm and then smashing his chest with his left fist.
“Lieutenant Suurthi,” he began, then paused before saying, “Sergeant Suurthi, make a note to the log. Admiral Uubiid met with an unfortunate industrial accident. Captain Kora
ath is now promoted to admiral, lower half, and is assigned the duty of overseeing completion of the fleet preparations. Don’t disappoint me, Koraath,” he said, turning to the officer. “I do not accept apologies of any kind. Your first duty is to clean up this mess. I will give you one hour to get back on schedule. In three Earthling weeks I expect this ship to be fully operational. I will tolerate no more delays. Get this hydrogen bottle installed and notify me when the space trials are set to begin. And, admiral, you report only to me. Is that understood?”
“Your instructions are very clear, my commander,” Koraath said. He turned and started barking orders. At first, the entourage was hesitant but every head turned to the dissipating cloud of smoke surrounding the former admiral.
All of a sudden, ten bodies sprung into action. There was a schedule to keep.
Phatie smiled and walked back to the roll-up door.
Chapter 6
Colonel Zuure Inskaap sat alone at a table in the back of the restaurant. His back was against the wall and from that position he could survey all who entered the not-quite-five-star eatery. Malguurian food was a combination of raw meat from the ooduuwe — Elber translation: cow — and soft noodles made from hardy grain and bird’s eggs. The spices made the gruel palatable after cooking but Inskaap was having none of it. He sipped from a ceramic mug that contained the local version of coffee — voojhie — a bitter-root beverage served only at room temperature to minimize the euphoric effects from the inhaled vapors.
He looked at his chronometer. Lieutenant Colonel Yagguud was late. Nothing got under his skin more than tardy subordinates. Yaggud better have a reasonable explanation for his tardiness or else there would be hell to pay.
There could not have been more than ten or twelve cars out on the roads this morning, Inskaap mused, so traffic was not going to be an acceptable excuse. Most of the citizens of the city had already fled inland to avoid the coast’s harsh winter season which was fast approaching. The lack of traffic also served another purpose for the intelligence officer. It gave him a perfect understanding of the mind of the Piru Torgud and his feeble attempts to tail him. He had managed to spot the tailing ground-car minutes into his trip. The driver had been clumsy and quite obvious; maybe that was part of the plan?
He took another sip from his mug.
What could that plan be? If Phatie was having him followed that meant he was possibly onto one of his counter-schemes. On Cannure careers in both politics and military service were made by cunning and deception. Akin to the game of hynoopt where the opposing players would feint and deceive with random moves and inconsequential sacrificial offerings while hiding their true assault on the opposing number. Like the human game of chess, he thought. Only more violent.
The inner front door banged open and Inskaap quickly put away his gaming thoughts. It was Yaguud.
Huuer Yaguud was one of his operatives. The young Malguur intelligence officer wore basic winter-wear clothing and nothing more to identify him as an MDF soldier. His long black leather great coat had no sashes, no chains, no medals. Even though entitled to wear one, he judiciously elected not to brandish a ceremonial sword. This was what the humans called going “incognito” Inskaap surmised. Those human words held fascination for Inskaap. It seemed to him that the entirety of the human language was an abomination of thrown-together syllables and phrases having no root in logical etymology. A vast bastardization of silly dialects and coined words. But he had patiently learned the language and now considered himself somewhat of an authority on the guttural Elberese.
He watched as Yaguud ordered a carafe of voojhie and sat at a table near the serving counter. They were the only patrons in the little dinette.
Perfect. Yaguud practicing his tradecraft with precision. A rookie operative would have walked directly to Inskaap’s table and began an innocuous conversation without having first scouted out the environment. Maybe his tardiness could be overlooked this morning. Inskaap leaned back and waited.
After minutes of inactivity Yaguud finally made eye contact with his superior. A simple nod of the head from Inskaap indicated that “the coast was clear” to borrow yet another stupid and meaningless Elber phrase. They were nowhere near the coastline at this location and to prevent himself from going off on another language tangent, he raised his hand and waved his operative over.
“Ahh, my friend, why don’t you join me,” Inskaap said aloud, carefully omitting Yaguud’s name.
Yaguud looked at him and faked a smile. “That would be a pleasure. I have not seen you for a great while,” he said trying to effect a wistful tone to his voice.
“Bring your drink and have a seat, we can catch up on past times,” the colonel said with a twirling motion of his left hand.
Yaguud gathered his carafe and his towels and moved to the back of the dinette. After a few minutes of innocuous conversation Inskaap decided it was time to move the meeting directly to its intended purpose.
“So, Yaguud, running a bit late are we?” Inskaap said quietly.
His junior officer looked around sheepishly. “I had a tail on me, sir. Dark green ground-car with two of Bale Phatie’s men driving. I had to lose them first.”
So. His suspicions had been correct. The Piru Torgud suspected something. “The next time you must leave earlier, Yaguud. You must plan for unforeseen contingencies. Did you get it?”
Yaguud reached into one of his inner pockets and produced a small plastic square. He looked behind him and slowly put the object on the table beside his ceramic mug. “It took some doing, but I got it,” he said.
Inskaap reached out and took the wafer-thin plastic square. “If I thought for a minute that you couldn’t get this recording, Yaguud, I would not have assigned you this important task.” Inskaap looked at the tiny sight glass on one side of the plastic square. The orange glow assured him that the recording was intact and that the wafer had not been compromised by security radiation scans.
“We are playing a very dangerous game. Bale Phatie has men everywhere. He rules the MDF with an iron fist, as I am aware you must certainly recognize. If he finds out that you are plotting against him, you not only forfeit your own life, but you compromise mine as well. And the lives of my family — my wife, my young, my friends, the friends of my friends —”
“Are you trying to tell me my job, Lieutenant Colonel Yaguud? I have no taste for timorous operatives. You know what is at stake. If we do nothing, this madman will propel us into another conflict with the humans that will defy all logic and morality. Where will your family be then, Yaguud? Where will you take them, where will you go to escape the atomic fire from the human bombs? They have destroyed three worlds already and I don’t think they will even pause a second when it comes to destroying Canuure. Once unleashed, it would be impossible to get the firestorm back into the bottle.”
Yaguud slumped in his seat. He had heard this spiel before. In the back of his mind he could not decide if Inskaap was really trying to prevent genocide or just trying for a power grab to feed his own appetite for ultimate control. His leader was like an empty carafe, one whose former contents could not be ascertained from the dregs left behind in the bottom of the vessel. Was Inskaap out to save a planet or out to destroy a Piru Torgud?
The two officers stared at each other for several minutes. Finally Inskaap pocketed the wafer and stood. “Wait five minutes before you leave. Take a circuitous route back to the directorate. I will join you later.”
Yaguud nodded his assent but said nothing. He turned and watched Inskaap march out of the restaurant. He finished his voojhie, paid and left. Before returning to work he needed something stronger than aromatic root-water. He needed a drink.
* * *
Inskaap watched his lieutenant colonel leave the restaurant and get into his ground-car. He waited for him to pull away from the low building and after a minute or two he followed, keeping well back and out of sight. From Yaguud’s initial heading Inskaap determined he was definitely following instructions
: taking the long way around, backtracking, making sudden lane changes. But he was easy enough to follow, especially using the miniature tracking device he had placed under the officer’s car. Inskaap had his suspicions about the man’s resolve and the sooner he found out the truth, the better his own resolve would be. Deposing a Piru Torgud was a risky enterprise. One false step, one less than stellar move, one inappropriate word delivered at the wrong time, would mean certain death. Bale Phatie was as ruthless as a military leader could be. He had intimidated an entire sitting Orduud council, threatening the members’ lives, abducting their spouses and their young, “disappearing” dissenting opposition voices and generally wreaking havoc on the ruling body of Canuure.
He patted his coat pocket. The recording of Phatie’s proposed speech to the Orduud council, scheduled for later in the current cycle, in two days Elber time, would make interesting listening. Yaguud had done well. A few bribes here, a little arm twisting there, he had delivered as promised. One of the Piru Torgud’s secretaries had been promised a promotion and given two hundred credits for the wafer. Things she would never receive. And she would be left without anyone to complain to, no one to complain about.
Intelligence work was so damn easy, Inskaap thought.
He followed Yaguud for almost an hour. Before breaking off the surveillance he saw his lieutenant colonel park his car on a side street and walk to a tavern called Miintyy’s Place. A place known for various things: illegal intoxicating spirits, illegal mind-altering drugs, illegal selling of sexual congress with women both above and below the age of consent, illegal selling of banned firearms. Usual business framework considering its closeness to the big governmental and military complex at the ocean’s edge. So, there it is. Inskaap wondered which one of the illegal vices attracted Colonel Yaguud. What thing could he use to keep the junior officer in line? The man that was just an hour before so worried about his shitty family, his fucking children, his pussy-whipped friends.
The Belt Loop_Book Two_Revenge of the Varson Page 3
