The Stones of Silence_Cochrane's Company_Book One

by Peter Grant

  “With pleasure.” He turned to his aide. “Contact the building manager. Tell him to make sure a guest apartment is ready by the time we arrive.”

  “I’m on it, sir.” His aide was already reaching for his comm unit.

  She would not talk on the way down from orbit, casting a sideways glance at his aide and the pilot before shaking her head slightly. He got the message, and refrained from asking any questions until they were alone over supper at a good restaurant downtown. She watched, frowning slightly, as his security team discreetly but carefully checked out the private room he’d reserved, then disposed themselves in and around the facility to ensure their privacy and safety while they ate.

  “That’s new,” she said when they were seated at last. “You never used to have such heavy security. Is that because of…?”

  “Yes. Those Albanians had quite a long list of interests. Eufala and Hawkwood were on it, and so was I. What really got my security people going was the quality of their training. We got all three of those who attacked the nursing home – well, one who tried to penetrate it, and two that backed him up – but they were much, much better than we expected. They were so much better than our own people that we’ve hired a team of top instructors to completely overhaul our training. We’re going to expand our security force as well.”

  “Who did you hire?”

  “We went to Sicherheit Zuerst in the Bismarck Cluster. They employ a lot of former secret service and diplomatic security personnel, plus some former Grenzschutzgruppe operators – that’s the Cluster’s anti-terrorist outfit. Sicherheit’s very expensive, but they’re top quality at what they do. Their team is on Constanta now, training several groups of our people. Our security detail tonight is among the first to graduate from their basic course. They’ll go on to advanced training once we have more basic graduates to replace them. Sicherheit will also help us set up an offensive element, to deal proactively with enemy threats when we find them.”

  “I see. I’d like to know more about what they’re teaching your people.”

  “Would you like to come out to our training camp with me tomorrow, and see for yourself?”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  Over their meal, she told him more about what she’d been doing. “Your captured data plates from those Albanian bots caused quite a scurry. We compared them to serial numbers taken from other destroyed bots in other systems. If the numbers show sequential production, they indicate that over three thousand of those bots have been made by now.”

  “Three thousand? But that means…”

  “Yes, it means they must be active in many more systems than the few where we’ve detected them. We’re mounting a big effort to survey every rich asteroid mining field we know of, to see whether they’ve been clandestinely spread there. We’ve already identified three more where they have. It looks like the Albanians are deliberately choosing only the best and most productive asteroid fields, because that way they don’t have to do any preliminary surveying. They’re also using more sophisticated beacons in the better defended fields, remotely activated ones that use infrared lights rather than radio to identify themselves. Unless a patrol is close enough, and looking in the right direction to see the light, and using infrared sensors, they’ll miss it.”

  He thought for a moment, putting down his knife and fork. “That means they can’t have been doing this – at least, not on this scale – for very long. If they had, their bots would have been noticed a lot more often than they have.”

  “That’s what our people think. They reckon this is a recent expansion of their activity, probably after years of preparing for it, perfecting the bots and their algorithms, and training their spacers to sneak in and out of asteroid fields without being detected. That also fits what you discovered in Mycenae, of course. That ship you destroyed had been in several asteroid belts over the past three years. Prior to that, she had no record of visiting one at all – just normal commercial freight runs. It’s as if she only recently began asteroid work.”

  “Uh-huh. That might also explain why they responded to her destruction by sending a team here, and another to Skraill. They were trying to find out who was interfering, and why. I think they probably planned – are still planning, for that matter – to take direct action against us once they learn all they need to know. Fortunately, we interrupted them on both planets. They’ll have to regroup, which gives us time to improve our defenses.”

  “Yes. Thank you for forwarding reports on those actions. Our Intelligence Department found them very useful. In fact…” She hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I think our people are mounting some sort of intelligence operation against the Albanians. It’s not in my department, but… some people… asked me so many questions about what I’d seen and heard that it had to have been more than just curiosity. Forget I said that, all right?”

  “Said what?” They smiled at each other as he picked up his utensils again. “I have to ask, though: I’ve shared everything I’ve learned with you. Will your Fleet share anything it learns with me? If it’s not going to be a two-way street, I’m going to have to spend a lot more money trying to find out for myself what those bastards are up to.”

  “I don’t know. As I said, whatever they’re doing is outside my department. I’ll ask, if you like – in fact, I’ll officially recommend it – but I don’t know how they’ll respond.”

  “If it’ll help, put it as an official question from me, coming from someone who’s helped them in the past. You might also mention that the Dragon Tong is making billions out of me through processing asteroids. If I’m not going to get the intelligence I need from Qianjin, I may as well invest some of the money I’m making in buying my own refinery ship. That way, I’ll double what I get out of the asteroids, which will give me enough money to fund my own intelligence setup. Of course, if I don’t need that, because Qianjin is telling me all I could learn for myself anyway, then I may as well go on refining my asteroids through the Tong. Just between you and I, I’d prefer not to have to manage another department, not to mention tying up billions of francs and several hundred people in refining activities not related to our main purpose – but don’t tell that to your superiors.”

  She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “It’ll be our secret. I know you understand the Fleet isn’t linked to the Tong in any way, at least officially; but I’m sure that at higher levels, there’s a certain amount of liaison. If you say that to your contacts on Barjah, they’ll tell their bosses how much money they’re going to lose if we don’t cooperate. If I also mention it to my Fleet superiors, someone, somewhere is bound to connect the dots and take notice.”

  “All right. We’ll try both avenues, and see what happens.”

  Next morning, an instructor showed them the shooting ranges and ‘fun house’, the classrooms, driving course, and other aspects of the training camp. Hui’s eyes flickered everywhere, noticing everything, watching in awe as the instructors showed the trainees how a house-clearing problem should be tackled.

  At one point she asked their instructor escort, “How many rounds do you people shoot every year, to keep your standards this high?”

  “Our goal is five thousand rounds every month, ma’am, through all of our weapons. We don’t often achieve it, because it takes a while to shoot that many – shoot them purposefully, I mean, not just spray the landscape – and we have many other demands on our time. Still, we average three thousand rounds a month. Captain Cochrane has told us to get his people up to our level, and that means they’ll have to shoot that much themselves.”

  Cochrane sighed. “I can see I’m going to have to triple or quadruple the ammo budget.”

  “Yes, sir, you are, but that’s what you hired us for.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not complaining!”

  “When are you coming out for your next session, sir?”

  “I’m leaving for Mycenae in a few days, but I’ll try to free up a week when I get ba
ck.”

  The instructor tut-tutted in disapproval. “You need to spend more time here, sir. Your guards can do a lot, but if you’re caught by surprise when they aren’t around, you have to be able to defend yourself until they can reach you.”

  “You’re right. I’ll do my best.”

  As they drove back to town, she asked him, “How much training have you already had with them?”

  “Only one week so far. I fired about two thousand rounds, and got a lot better with a carbine and a pulser than I had been, but they reckon I’ve only just begun.”

  “And you’re going to keep that up?”

  “The instructor was right. If I’m caught without my guards, or we’re pinned down somewhere, I’m going to have to fight too. The better I’m trained, the more likely I am to survive if that happens. I’m going to have all our Headquarters personnel go through at least basic personal defense and firearms training. It’s not a normal Spacer activity, but we’re not exactly normal Spacers, are we? We won’t reach the level of professionals, or be as good as our security people, but we’ll be a lot better than average by the time the instructors finish with us.”

  “How did you get permission to set up such an elaborate training camp, and get weapons permits for all your security people and yourself?”

  He laughed. “Simple. We offered the same training, free of charge, to a select team from Constanta’s Presidential Security Corps. They look after cabinet ministers, too. Given that incentive, the Defense Minister couldn’t sign the paperwork fast enough!”

  She joined him in his apartment that evening for a private supper. He surprised her by preparing a simple but flavorful meal of pasta, sauce and salad, accompanied by a bottle of red wine.

  “I didn’t know you could cook,” she said half-accusingly as she sipped from her glass.

  “I’m not very good at it, but I have a few favorite recipes. This is one of them. My mother used to make it.”

  “It’s very tasty. Savory.”

  “Yes. She liked to use herbs and spices. I used to have her spice set, until my former wife took everything in the divorce. She was First Families, you see, and I wasn’t, so the court was bound to rule in her favor.” His face grew distant for a moment. “She took great pleasure in telling me she’d donated everything I valued to a local thrift store as soon as I went off-planet. By the time I got back, it had all been sold.”

  Hui put her hand across his and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I.” He heaved a sigh. “Oh, well. That’s in the past now. Let’s leave it there.”

  They took their wine glasses out onto the sixth-floor balcony of his two-bedroom apartment, looking out over the city. They did not bother to turn on the light, preferring the darkness of the evening, and the silence, and the intimacy of being close to each other.

  He said softly, “Hui… I promised I’d keep my distance, but… I really want to kiss you.”

  She trembled. “Andrew… I… I do, too.”

  She put down her glass as she turned to him. He took her gently into his arms, and she leaned into him as she turned up her face. Their lips met in a long, indescribably tender melting moment.

  “Andrew… I…”

  “Shhh.” His hand crept up to gently caress her breast. She shivered, gasping, but did not pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, pressing tightly against him, molding herself to his body.

  He drew her gently inside, and closed the balcony door behind them.

  She woke next morning to find him beside her, his body wonderfully, intimately warm against hers. He was already awake, looking at her with smiling, loving eyes. She stretched, luxuriating in the sensation of lying next to him, very aware of his eyes as the sheet fell away to expose her breasts. She laughed deep in her throat as he pulled her to him, and came willingly.

  “Should I apologize?” he asked her later, teasingly, as he made coffee in the apartment’s small but well-equipped kitchen.

  “You should. You shamefully took advantage of me.”

  “Huh! Seems to me I recall a certain amount of cooperation going on.”

  “Nonsense! That was all a figment of your imagination.”

  “So that’s what they call this on Qianjin. May I have another figment soon, please?”

  She giggled. “Silly! No, Andrew. You don’t need to apologize. I’ve fought this for months, but I think I always knew it was a losing battle. I still don’t know how we’re going to work this out, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I didn’t just want you – I needed you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her gently. “That makes two of us. I needed you very badly.”

  They spent the morning relaxing in each other’s company, oblivious to the world outside. As they cooked lunch together, he said, “I daresay my staff are sending all sorts of worried looks in this direction by now. I sent a message that I wouldn’t be in today.”

  She blushed. “They probably think I’ve stolen you away.”

  “In a very real sense, you have, you wicked thing, you.”

  She laughed, then sobered. “How long do we have? You mentioned you had to leave for Mycenae soon.”

  “Yes. I want to see for myself how that surveillance satellite constellation is performing, and speak with Dave Cousins about our plans to shift operations to Mycenae Secundus Two orbit, once NOE takes over our depot ship and patrol craft.”

  “What will you use in their place?”

  “Our first proper depot ship will be ready in three months, along with the next two corvettes. We’ll send them straight to Mycenae to work up there, rather than do that in the Constanta system. Dave will be in local command, and he’ll put them through their paces. Until they’re operational, the first corvette and our armed freighter will handle patrols, along with NOE’s patrol craft. They’ll share our old depot ship until our new one is ready.”

  “I’m glad the handover seems to be going smoothly. You’ll move the surveillance satellites to your new location, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m not leaving a billion-franc present behind for NOE! Would you like to come with me? It would give us a couple more weeks together. If you travel aboard my ship, your communications frigate can stay here and give her crew liberty planetside.”

  She nodded, almost shyly. “I’d like that very much. I can use the excuse of wanting to see the surveillance satellite. We have a full-system surveillance network, much bigger and more capable than yours – it can reach out four or five light-days from Qianjin – but nothing this small and compact. I think my superiors will be interested to hear a first-hand report of how it helps secure Mycenae.”

  “It’s a deal. We’ll leave in two days.”

  21

  Confrontation

  MYCENAE SYSTEM

  “Any sign of enemy movement?” the destroyer’s captain demanded.

  “No, sir,” the Plot operator replied. “There’s just the patrol craft over near Secundus’ asteroid belt, two billion kilometers from their depot ship, and another about three hundred million kilometers beyond the target group, almost on our course, sir.”

  “We’ll take care of that one on our way out of the system,” the captain grunted in satisfaction. “Weapons, make sure you reserve ten missiles for her, but don’t worry about a firing solution yet. We’ll develop one after we’ve dealt with the main group.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” came from the Weapons console. “What about the one over at Mycenae Secundus?”

  “We’ll leave her. We want her to be able to tell others what happens when they challenge us.”

  The captain gazed in satisfaction at the Plot. An enlarged section in one corner showed icons representing the gravitic drive signatures of six ships in the target group. He presumed they were the other two patrol craft he’d been warned to expect, their depot ship, and three others – probably mining vessels, visiting freighters, or couriers. At such extreme range his systems couldn’t classify them with any accuracy, or pinpoint th
eir positions except to recognize that they were orbiting Mycenae Primus Four. Every ship would be targeted by ten missiles from each destroyer. They were still blissfully unaware of the death and destruction streaking toward them.

  The captain turned to the old man, sitting in a wheelchair beside the Command console. “We’re on course, on speed and on time, Patriarch. They’re only three billion kilometers ahead. We’ll begin braking now, very slowly, at low drive power, to reduce speed before our firing pass.”

  “Why reduce speed, captain?” came the labored reply. The old man was clearly not in the best of health. “Why not go at them full speed ahead?”

  “It’s our sensors, Patriarch. They aren’t the most up-to-date. At one-quarter of light speed, the distortion is so great that they can’t direct our missiles as well as we’d like. If we slow to one-tenth of light speed, they’ll be much more accurate.”

  “I understand. I shall mention this to the Brotherhood Council. We must see about getting you better sensors.”

  “Thank you, Patriarch.” He turned to the Helm console. “Drive to braking mode, power five percent.”

  Almost imperceptibly, the destroyer began to slow her headlong rush. To one side and a little behind, only ten thousand kilometers away, her sister ship detected her diminutive drive signature, and matched her actions.

  Cochrane ran into the depot ship’s Operating Center still buttoning his shirt, its brand-new epaulettes, bearing the single thick gold stripe of Commodore’s rank, bouncing heavily on his shoulders. His fly gaped open, and his feet were thrust into half-fastened shoes. “What is it?”

  “The surveillance satellite has just detected two high-speed bogeys, three billion kilometers out, sir, plus-or-minus two percent,” the Officer of the Deck replied crisply. “They started up their drives at very low power – or, rather, they started them two-point-seven-eight hours ago, sir. That’s the estimated light speed delay between the plotted position and our own. They’re headed for us, in close formation.”