Though Hell Should Bar the Way

by David Drake

  I guess my smile showed how I felt about that.

  “Oh, and Olfetrie?” Six called after me.

  I turned in sudden concern.

  “Good work, spacer,” he said, smiling as broadly as I just had.

  Chapter Forty

  The first thing I learned when I woke up in a guest room of the Foliot house was that the Cinnabar presence on Saguntum—including the RCN detachment—had moved into the west wing of the former Karst mission. Director Jimenez had become Cinnabar Resident on Saguntum by decision of Lady Adele Mundy, the Republic’s plenipotentiary.

  From my contact with Jimenez, a trade negotiator, he was only a little better suited for the position than Woetjans would have been. It was a tremendous jump in status for him, though, and he’d be thrilled at his new role.

  The next important change I didn’t learn until my formal briefing from Lady Mundy, still aboard the Sunray. I had been assigned as RCN Liaison to the Saguntine Department of Public Safety.

  “Ma’am?” I said, trying to get my head around the concept. “Does Colonel Foliot know about this?”

  “Colonel Foliot requested the appointment,” Mundy said. Her voice wasn’t what you’d call warm, but she didn’t flat out call me an idiot. “I gather he didn’t inform you of it when you ate dinner together last night. As a military man, he might be too punctilious to interfere in another unit’s chain of command.”

  Tovera grinned at me and said, “I’d have told you, but I just kill people.”

  Mundy looked at her servant. “You do rather more than that, Tovera,” she said. “But it’s a valid point. I too would have told Olfetrie.”

  * * *

  I drove from the Sunray to the new Cinnabar mission in a four-wheeled ground vehicle of Karst manufacture. Tovera said that Hogg had provided it to the Sunrays. I’d formed an opinion of Hogg during the time I’d known him. I didn’t worry that the police were going to pull me over for driving a stolen car, but it did cross my mind that a careful search of the interior might turn up traces of a former owner’s blood and brains.

  In her office as Adjutant, Lieutenant Enery debriefed me thoroughly on the Karst attack. Her only comment on my astrogation error was, “It’s the kind of mistake that seems to occur only at the worst times. And you recovered from it.”

  After that, Captain Leary explained my duties as liaison. I was to visit all the units and facilities under the Director of Public Safety and assess them for possible inclusion in the military forces of the Republic of Cinnabar.

  I was to have a local guide. I chose Lieutenant Smith for the purpose. Smith had sharply limited skills, but I trusted him within those limitations. And I asked that Woetjans accompany us. She was a spacer rather than a soldier and ground forces made up most of what we would deal with, but she could size up the quality of a unit at a glance.

  We—my new team—began by visiting the barracks of the Jacquerie Battalion, which provided troops for ceremonial duties. The guards at Colonel Foliot’s house the night it was attacked had come from that unit.

  The major in charge was drunk and sleeping with his face on the desk when we arrived, and the battalion staff could only account for sixty percent of the personnel supposedly on duty. I thought of the Admiral’s guards in Salaam and wondered how many of the troops really existed.

  Lieutenant Smith was embarrassed; Woetjans was openly disgusted. It was possible that when we visited units scattered at a greater distance from the capital, we’d find more to praise. I kept an open mind about the question, though I didn’t expect to be positively impressed by what we learned.

  As it turned out, we didn’t have a chance to continue our inspections because my world changed again. The 7th Destroyer Flotilla of the RCN arrived in Saguntum orbit, requesting permission to land.

  The flotilla had arrived to pick up its newly appointed commanding officer, Captain Daniel Leary.

  * * *

  Captain Leary boarded the Quilliam to receive his orders from Commander Sansom, now his second in command. He was accompanied by Lady, now Officer, Mundy and their servants. When they returned, they walked into the auditorium of the Navy Building where all RCN personnel had been summoned by radio.

  Captain Leary faced us and crossed his wrists behind his back. “Well, fellow spacers,” he said, “this may be a surprise to you, but I swear on my mother’s soul that it’s a bigger one to me. Still, it’s good news, right?”

  There was a roar of agreement. I pretended more enthusiasm than I felt. All I knew for certain was that I was in limbo again. I suppose I should’ve been used to that.

  “My flag will be aboard the Rotherham,” Leary said. “There would be places for all of you aboard her. The RCN is on a war footing again so of course the flotilla’s short crewed—but, I’ll be leaving five of you with an officer on Saguntum to support the civilian mission. Resident Jimenez insisted, and under the circumstances I had to agree with him.”

  He shrugged. “Now, some of you may have your own reasons to want to stay on Saguntum for what I expect to be a month or upward until Xenos gets the official staff sorted out,” he said. “I’ll take volunteers, but I tell you now that there’s going to be at least one motorman and at least three riggers. Think about it.”

  There was a general rustle of unease. “Now,” Leary said, “all the enlisted spacers are dismissed. Officers, come down here to me and I’ll explain a few things more. You too, Midshipman Olfetrie.”

  “Execute, spacers!” Woetjans roared.

  I waited until the way cleared of departing spacers before I headed down. I met Enery in the aisle. Her face, not just the reconstructed side, was stiff and white. She stood directly in front of Six and, before he could speak, said loudly—not quite shouted, “Sir! I respectfully request that I accompany you with the flotilla where I have a chance to see action. Sir!”

  Lieutenant Cory was standing to the side, looking at the floor and apparently pretending that he was on some other planet. Six, looking uncomfortable, said, “Well, Lieutenant, as the senior officer remaining—”

  “Sir!” Enery said. “I didn’t say anything when you put me in the Sunray when even Olfetrie here got a combat assignment. But you’re not going to leave me babysitting a bloody trade mission and losing the last chance I’ll likely ever have to make lieutenant commander!”

  “Lieutenant, what I will do is not the business of my subordinates—”

  “Permission to speak, sir!” I said without thinking about it. If I had thought, I’d still have said it—if I’d had the balls. I hope I’d have had the balls.

  Six closed his mouth. He looked at me and took a deep breath. From his expression, he was glad to have an excuse to cool things off. He said, “Permission granted, Olfetrie.”

  “Sir,” I said, “she’s right. She’ll be more use to the flotilla than I would, especially since she’s way senior to the first lieutenant of the Rapid, who’s been acting captain since Captain Weyman’s heart attack last week.”

  Leary’s face changed. “Do you want to stay on Saguntum, Olfetrie?” he said. “I can see why—”

  “No, sir, I very much want to go off where the action is,” I said, stepping on the rest of what the captain was going to say. “But Lieutenant Enery has earned the slot and I haven’t. Believe me, M-monica isn’t as important to me as a chance to serve with Captain Leary in a battle.”

  Leary nodded slightly. He said, “What’s this about the Rapid’s captain?”

  “What?” I said. “Ah, well, I checked the logs of the destroyers that just landed. And I saw the entry about Captain Weyman. Ah, I didn’t break into the ship’s systems, sir, it was openly logged to anyone with RCN clearance.”

  “Weyman drank like a fish, sir,” Enery said. “Even when we were in the Academy together.”

  Leary’s smile was very faint. “That’s been true of a number of us, Lieutenant,” he said, “but there’s no few whose hearts can’t stand it. I’ve been fortunate in my genes, I’m glad to say.”<
br />
  He looked at Enery. “Lieutenant,” he said. “I’m appointing you to command of the Rapid. After you’ve looked her over, you’ll report to me on your impressions. Ah—the formal orders may be an hour in coming, so you may want to …”

  Lieutenant Enery laughed. “Captain Leary,” she said, “I haven’t forgotten what happened when I boarded the Princess Cecile ahead of the official orders to take command. I have some things to gather up in my quarters, so I’ll repair there if you don’t mind.”

  “Dismissed, Enery,” Six said. “I’m glad to have you with me.”

  Enery headed for the exit. Cory faced around. He too looked more relaxed than he had at the beginning of the discussion.

  “And I am glad to have Enery,” Captain Leary said softly. “But you know, Olfetrie, I could find better uses for you than what she rightly called babysitting a trade delegation. Be that as it is, you’ll remain on Saguntum to support the civilian mission as required. You are not under the control of Resident Jimenez, however.”

  That was a relief, though Jimenez wasn’t really a bad guy. He was full of himself, but he wasn’t one of the sort who went off looking for ways to make the folks around him feel miserable. I’d figured to keep out of his way. That would be even easier if he wasn’t in my chain of command.

  “I gather the RCN detachment is on Saguntum to get the mission out if things go belly up?” I said. “Do you want me to continue surveying local units?”

  “Sure, continue the survey,” Six said. “People in Xenos will want it done, though I don’t guess we’ll be incorporating locals into the Land Forces of the Republic any time soon.”

  He shrugged. Then he said, “Jimenez has to know that there’s a force on Saguntum ready to get him off. I’m not leaving you here to do that, I’m leaving you here to reassure the Resident that you can do that.”

  I nodded. “Yes sir,” I said. “Ah—has the Resident—that is, the Foreign Ministry delegation—been informed of the secret compact between us and the Alliance?”

  “Yes,” said Officer Mundy, seated at the small table that acted as a podium when required; Six had stood in front of it. “I thought it was necessary to explain so that Resident Jimenez wouldn’t worry. In the event”—she looked up from her data unit. I won’t say she was smiling, but her expression was as positive as I’d ever seen it—“I got the impression that he hadn’t understood that there might have been a problem.”

  “Oh, one more thing, Olfetrie?” Six said. “I won’t be leaving any of the warrant officers—and certainly not Woetjans.”

  “Understood, sir,” I said. “I suspect I’ll be able to assess most units here without expert help, though I may take the rest of the detachment along just to give them something to do.”

  “I’ve never noticed that spacers had trouble finding things to do in a city,” Six said, smiling again. “But it might be just as well to keep your people close if you’re going to be wandering here and there. At any rate, you’re dismissed until the meeting here at 1600 hours. I’ll make the final assignments then. And Olfetrie?”

  “Sir?”

  “Thanks for helping me out of the hole I was digging for myself with Enery.”

  “Sir,” I said. “I’m honored that you think of me as part of your team.”

  I saluted and went off. Mostly I was thinking of the opportunity I’d thrown away. But at the back of my mind, I knew that I’d be seeing Monica shortly.

  * * *

  I stood with my five spacers on the porch of the Naval Building, watching the destroyers of the 7th Flotilla rise to orbit one at a time. There’d never been more than six in the Military Harbor at the same time, but there were two more in powered orbit. There’d been an exchange every couple hours to top off reaction mass.

  “Where they off to first?” Mixon asked while the echoes of the Quail faded as she climbed.

  “Lauren,” I said. Mixon didn’t need to know any more than I had, but the flotilla would arrive before any Karst spy could get word there. “There’s usually a Karst naval presence in the system, a couple gunboats and maybe a destroyer. And a great deal of civilian traffic.”

  Wedell and Gamba were the only members of my crew whom I really knew, but Mixon, Gadient, and Tyler were able spacers whom any captain would want in his crew. None of them had volunteered to stay on Saguntum, but neither had they complained about the assignment. I had no intention of being the sort of superior who concealed information just because he could.

  “They going to capture the place?” Gamba asked.

  “Dunno,” I said. “I guess it depends on how the locals react. I don’t think the flotilla’s got any ground troops embarked, but if the Karst governor wants to roll on his back and kick his legs in the air—I’d guess Six would oblige him, wouldn’t you?”

  The Quail had been the last of the flotilla. I looked at my people and said, “Well, I don’t think they’re coming back down to ask our help, so lets get cracking. I think that”—I pointed to the long brick building at the westernmost cape of the harbor—“is the Naval Arsenal. I figure we can check it out before supper, right?”

  We set off along the harbor road without bothering with our vehicle.

  * * *

  It was late afternoon when we returned to the Residency after going over the arsenal. Twelve of the fourteen staff had actually been on duty, and I didn’t know that you’d do a lot better in a similar RCN facility.

  I hadn’t seen any sign of overbuying to please a brother-in-law or the like … “the like” in this case meaning a Saguntine Dean Olfetrie with a backhander. The most expensive items were munitions for the dart sloops; there were seven in store and the sloops hadn’t been reloaded since the Karst raid. The darts were manufactured on Pantellaria and probably couldn’t be replaced in under six months time.

  “I wonder if ground-launched antiship missiles can be adapted to the sloops,” I said to Gamba.

  “Are we going to need more?” he said, frowning. He looked back over his shoulder toward the building we’d just left.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “And it’s not our job at the moment. But what’s the difference besides the more energetic first-stage propellant?”

  “I guess we can check the dimensions of the sloop cradles,” Wedell said. “They eyeball about the same, and I’ll bet we could butcher something together that’d work if we could get the use of some tools.”

  We paused at the entrance to the building. The crew was watching me expectantly. I grinned and said, “All right, you’re all released until 0800 tomorrow.”

  “Sir, can we take the car?” Gadient said.

  My instant reaction was, “No,” but the word didn’t reach my lips. These weren’t young tearaways, and they weren’t old lags with long histories of punishment on every ship they’d served on. Aloud I said, “Who can drive?”

  “I can,” said Gadient. “And I think Gamba too.”

  “And me,” said Wedell.

  “All right,” I said. “But 0800, don’t forget. We’re going out to the training facility at Aures.”

  We went inside to shower and change. I was heading to the Foliot house for dinner, though I intended to return here to sleep, given the early start I wanted tomorrow. The civilian vehicle would be cramped with six of us, and I wondered if I could borrow something bigger from the Director of Public Safety.

  I had time, though. I took a deep breath and headed for the opposite wing of the building.

  * * *

  The Karst mission had three cells in the basement. I didn’t know what they’d been intended for but now the only occupied one held Maeve Grimaud. A desk in the small lobby at the base of the elevator acted as the guardroom. The special policeman sitting there at a desktop console couldn’t see the cells, which were around a corner.

  “Good evening,” I said. “I’m—”

  “I know who you are, sir,” the policeman said, smiling as he rose. His name tape read Bernotti. “I followed you and the colonel up the
stairs in Salaam. You were having a lot easier time with them than I was.”

  I reached over the desk and shook his hand. “I can’t say I remember much of that climb, Sergeant Bernotti,” I said, “because I was too bloody scared to think.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’m here to see the prisoner,” I said. “I’m the ranking RCN officer on Saguntum now.”

  That was edging the truth a little. I didn’t think that signing on to the Sunray put me technically in the RCN, but it was unlikely that anybody here would argue about it.

  “Sure,” Bernotti said, slinging the submachine gun which had leaned against the desk. He took a chip key from a desk drawer and led me to the angle in the hall. “You see how they built these? The guy at the desk can’t see what’s going on in the cells. If you like, I won’t hear nothing either till you’re ready to come out.”

  “I won’t be doing anything private,” I said, smiling pleasantly at him. In fact the suggestion—I don’t know whether he thought I was going to rape Maeve or torture her—made me queasy. Still, the offer was well meant.

  The cells had barred fronts. Maeve was in the middle, the only one occupied. She’d risen, apparently alerted by the sound of voices. When I came into sight, she smiled and said, “Roy? I certainly didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Do you want to go in?” Bernotti asked. “Or you can talk through the bars.”

  “I’ll go in,” I said. There was a bed, a chair—both steel stampings, much like those of a starship—and a closed chest with a padded top. There was no wardrobe.

  “Sergeant?” I said. Maeve was wearing the clothes she’d been captured in. “What happened to her luggage?”

  “There’s stuff in the storage room out by the desk,” Bernotti said. “She can have something if she wants it.”

  He made a face and said, “Look, sir, I guess it’s up to you. But I’d sure rather you not take that gun into the cell with you.”