by Chris Bunch
CHAPTER
19
A surprising number of the students made it through flight school: forty-seven total. As promised, the cadre had done everything they could to help. Also I Section — Personnel — had done a good job of trying to put square pegs in square holes.
Of the forty-seven, only a handful were chosen for aksai specialty training, which demanded the highest ability — and a fairly unimaginative character, since fighting ships were not high on any insurance actuary’s list.
Neither Garvin nor Njangu made the cut, especially since they already had important slots. Nor did they much want to fly aksai, even though that was the prestige assignment for pilots.
More students were picked for second seat on a velv or a destroyer for seasoning and quick promotion if they fulfilled their promise.
The lower third of the class was assigned to either Griersons or Zhukovs. Angara had decided the Force could take their chances with a lesser pilot at the controls of an ACV, but not of a spaceship. Highly rated aircraft ACV commanders, in spite of their frequent protests, had been scheduled for the next flight class, starting immediately.
After Angara had made a speech, Dill had stumbled through congratulations and gotten teary, wings had been pinned on by friends or family, the graduates stood around the parade ground, wondering what to do next. Somebody said they should start a tradition and throw their kepis in the air, an idea quickly vetoed when somebody mentioned what a new one cost.
“There’s always simply getting drunk,” Garvin said. “Highly regarded in some circles.”
“I could do that,” Jasith said, an arm around Garvin.
“If you’ve got the energy,” Njangu said, “have one on me. Maev and I are going to haul to the Shelburne, where she can watch me sleep around the clock. The other two days the Force so magnanimously gave us will be spent finding the loudest hard-nuts bar in Leggett City with a good band.”
“Oh come on,” Maev said. “We can have a drink before you crap out on me. You’re not that old yet.”
“You’re right,” Njangu said. “I hope. Garvin, whyn’t you grab a noncom and have them invite everybody to their club? Us elite ossifers aren’t permitted to invite lower ranks to our club, for fear the enlisted swine’ll realize what dull bastards we are, socially.
“What a bunch of yoinks we are, indeed,” Garvin said. “Hey! Tweg Renolds! C’mere a second! We’re gonna impinge on you!”
• • •
It wasn’t much of a party. The training had ground the students down pretty well, and after a drink or two, they filtered away, yawning, toward transport to Leggett City and on, or to their barracks.
Garvin ordered a final round for the half dozen people at his table, felt nature’s call, and went for the bathroom. He saw Darod Montagna sitting by herself at a table with a beer, stopped.
“Hey, Darod,” he said, and wondered why he felt a little awkward. “Congrats again on your promotion.”
“Thanks, boss,” she said.
“Are you sulking or just shy?”
“Neither,” Montagna said. “Waiting for a friend to get off, then he and I are having the pure joy of checking our teams’ Class IV equipment.”
“A noncom’s work is never done,” Garvin said in his best, most obviously sanctimonious tone. “Uh … I’ll see you later.”
He stopped at the bar, dropped a bill, and told the barkeep that was for Montagna’s tab, went to the ‘fresher, came back to his table.
“Who’s that?” Jasith asked, curiously.
“One of the people who was on Kura with me.”
“Why didn’t you ask her over to join us?”
“I dunno,” Garvin said. “We’re on our last shout, aren’t we? Didn’t think of it.”
“Mmmh,” Jasith said. “Pretty, isn’t she?”
“I hadn’t really noticed.”
“He isn’t permitted to notice,” Njangu explained “The life of a serving soldier is an unhappy one. We can’t lust after anybody with more rank than we’ve got, or less, and the odds are anybody with the same rank’s uglier’n death on a holiday.”
“Ah,” Jasith said, looked at Garvin a bit strangely, but she said no more.
• • •
The two aksai ungrappled from the velv, went to full drive toward the five dots on-screen. They were about three AUs off Larix.
“This is One,” Alikhan said. “Suggest we split, and hit the outer ships first.”
“Two,” Dill said. “It’s a plan. On your move.”
Seconds later, the two ships orbited away from each other, closed on the Larissan ships “below.”
Dill armed his launchers, swung his sight to one dot, touched the ENGAGE sensor.
“Closing … closing … closing … son of a bitch!”
An alarm blatted in his ear, and a red bull’s-eye appeared on his canopy. He’d been targeted by something. He touched countermeasure sensors, changed orbit, and the bull’s-eye flashed again.
“That mother’s no goddamned merchantman,” he muttered, keyed his com.
“One, there’s enemy in that enemy.”
“Understood,” Alikhan’s voice came. “I, also, am the target of a hostile ship, and have fired a countermissile.”
Info flashed on Dill’s canopy.
“It’s one of their destroyers,” he reported.
“And another after me, also.”
“Shitaroo,” Dill complained, toggling launch buttons. “I’ve got three destroyers on-screen … guarding two lousy merchantmen!”
“Suggest a double-launch, self-targeting, and we flee.”
“Agree all the way,” Dill said. “We’re outgunned, outmanned and maybe out-thunk.”
He fired two Goddards in the general direction of the Larissans, dumped three Shadow antimissile missiles to guard his rear, went back as quickly as he’d come.
“This is Two,” he reported to the velv. “The bastards have discovered the convoy system. We gotta do some rethinking.”
• • •
The next encounter was between four aksai, mothered by a single velv, and a ten-ship group of Larissan ships. It was a disaster. Six of the ten Larissans were destroyers. Three aksai were destroyed and the last limped back to the velv, which barely escaped into hyperspace as the destroyers attacked.
The Larissan convoy system was becoming very efficient.
• • •
There were five in the command center on Chance Island, Dr. Danfin Froude, Alt Ho Kang, Garvin, Njangu, and Erik Penwyth. All were intent on their computers, except Penwyth, who appeared half-asleep.
Njangu muttered as his screen scrolled data.
“Goddammit, but this is elderly shit! Some of these files are reporting battles on water!”
“Anything interestin’ that the spear-and-arrow set did back then?” Penwyth drawled.
“Uh … not yet,” Njangu said.
“I got something,” Garvin said from the other computer terminal. “No I don’t.”
“Garvin,” Froude said gently, “why don’t you share it with us, and see if there isn’t something hidden in the dross?”
“ ‘Kay. But this just plain doesn’t pertain. The idea was to take a convoy apart with capital ships, like those cruisers we all hope Redruth isn’t building which we don’t have any of.”
“What about using a different kind of hammer?” Ho Kang said. “Just overpowering the convoy escorts with massive strength?”
“We still don’t have those kinds of numbers,” Froude said. “We can’t afford to put a dozen destroyers or even velv out at every wide place in the road, hoping we find a convoy here and there.”
“You’re right,” Kang said. “Bad thinking.”
“Whyn’t you, Cent Penwyth, quit sitting there looking aristocratic and help us?” Garvin said. “Angara wants a solution to this convoy idea yesterday. And I’ve gotta go out someday yesterday and make sure C-Cumbre and the Musth are all happy and feeling secure, again at our fearles
s leader’s request.”
“Yes, sir, Mil Jaansma. Sir,” Penwyth said. “Actually, I do have a suggestion. Whyn’t you, when you’re out playing footsie with our furry alien friends suggest that, just for excitement, they might want to provide us a war fleet or six? Even the odds a bit, give them a chance to murder some more humans, and so on and so forth.”
“Alikhan tried that one,” Froude said. “They said they would take the matter under advisement. I suspect the Musth are more than happy to see humans killing humans, and see no particular reason any of their ichor needs be shed.
“If Redruth or his admiral had any strategic brains, which I doubt, they’d try to blow up the mines on C-Cumbre, kill a bunch of Musth, and get them to sever relations with us.”
Garvin produced a mock shudder.
“Don’t even think things like that, Doctor. Remember when the ‘Raum did just that, and all of a sudden we were in a whole new war?”
“Hang on,” Njangu said. “I think I just might have a way to go. Transferring data.”
The room was very quiet as Njangu’s discovery was considered.
“Mmmh,” Froude said thoughtfully. “Of course. The only problem is modifying the ships and training the operators, which takes time.”
“Unless somebody comes up with something better,” Garvin said, “I’m going to take this to the Old Man and suggest we try it.”
• • •
Angara did approve, and ordered three Kellys currently on the ways to be modified, losing half their armament for massive electronics suites.
Then the search began for the operators.
“Which should be most simple,” Penwyth said. “All we need is someone capable of juggling four rather sharp objects at the same time, while duckin’ a feller throwin’ knives at them.”
• • •
“Do you know something,” Maev Stiofan said. “I’m of a majority, I’m free, thanks to you, I’ll be able to vote in another year, once I get Cumbrian citizenship, if I don’t want to remain a Confederation citizen, and I don’t have the foggiest idea on what the hell I want to do next.
“Oh yeh,” she added. “And I’m broke.”
They were lying on the beach on the far side of the Shelburne. Njangu’d managed a few hours off, because Caud Angara was having a dinner conference at the hotel, didn’t need him to be anywhere but nearby, and they had seized the moment to go anywhere that wasn’t military-looking.
Njangu was grateful Maev had brought the subject up. There were problems. He’d had enough in savings to rent a small apartment in Leggett City under her name, but even with flight pay, combat pay, and proficiency pay, he was barely breaking even at the end of each pay period.
He supposed there wouldn’t be any problem tapping Garvin, since he had access to the Mellusin billions, but didn’t want to do that. That’d make him dependent on Jaansma … or Jasith. Not to mention the fact that Maev was currently dependent on him. He hadn’t had time, back on Larix Prime, to think about what would happen after he and Maev got out alive, since that option didn’t seem likely at the time.
“You could always go back to school,” he suggested.
“I could,” Maev said. “Once I decided what’s worth studying.”
She dug toes in the sand.
“What a goddamned trap,” she said. “I’m born on that stupid hydroponics world and grow up going out of my mind with boredom. So I enlist. I get highjacked, end up in some goon’s army, where I’m either scared shitless or angry for almost five years.
“Then … free like a goddamned bird. At least birds have some idea on what they want to do next.
“The way things are going,” she said morosely, “I might as well join the goddamned Force.”
“You could do that,” Njangu said. “Apply for a commissioned entry, so we could still screw. Assuming you still wanted to.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I dunno,” Njangu said uncomfortably. “It’s just that you didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter, back when I was playing Leiter.”
“Njangu, if I hadn’t wanted to stay on with you,” Maev said, “you wouldn’t have seen anything except dust trails.
“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “the real question is, do you still want to see me when you wake up in the morning?”
“Well … I …” Njangu’s voice trailed off. The realization came. “Yeh. Hell, yeh. I do.”
“ ‘Kay,” Maev said, trying to keep relief out of her voice, “that’s one part of the puzzle solved.”
“Let’s go back to this idea you’ve got of enlisting,” Njangu said. “I sure wouldn’t like it if anything happened to you.”
“Staying a civilian’s likely to keep me out of harm’s way?” Maev snorted. “Redruth’s still out there, and I haven’t heard of him distinguishing a whole lot between soldiers and civvies. Especially after that one nuclear try.
“And let’s not forget I’d be worrying about you, wouldn’t I? Things are getting hotter, and I don’t want to be just sitting when you go out, worrying my ears off.”
“Enlisting,” Njangu said thoughtfully. “Now, if we got you some nice, safe job out of the line of fire, but where you could be part of things, and not in my chain of command … hmm.”
“Safe?” Maev said. “I thought you said one of the virtues of the Force is everybody fights.”
“Well, yeh,” Njangu said. “But there’s degrees of getting shot at.”
“Mmmph. All right. Here’s my résumé. I’m good at what? Ordering people around. Spit and polish, which the Force doesn’t have a lot of. Fine shot. Quick on weapons assimilation. Fair with a knife. Good at hand-to-hand. Field maneuvers. Small-unit leadership.
“Hey, that’s an idea,” Maev said. “I could go I&R.”
“Like hell you could,” Njangu said, outraged. “That’d be ruination city, and thoroughly screw — ”
He broke off, seeing that Maev was laughing at him.
“We better think about this one,” he muttered.
“Congratulations, sir,” Hedley said. “It flew like a flipping bird through PlanGov on the second vote, and I swear neither Penwyth nor I did any real blackmailing. Two percent emergency tax — some of the Council members gargled at that one — to pay for the manpower increase. Just like that.
“Sameo-sameo with your second proposition. The draft’ll be set up as soon as possible, but volunteers are preferred, and you’re now in charge of 20K flipping crunchies-to-be. Two brigades instead of just one.
“I forget, sir. What’s a Regimental commander called?”
“I shall be dipped and then drowned,” Caud Angara said slowly. “I never thought the pols would go for it without Redruth personally invading the planet and raping and maiming their next of kin. Maybe these bastards aren’t as self-centered as I thought.”
“Sir,” Hedley said, “please don’t get maudlin. I’d worry. They’re just piss-scared. In a couple of weeks, they’ll be whining like a turbine and wondering what strange hypnotics you used on them.”
“Twenty thousand goddamned men,” Angara said again. “Now, if I could only figure a way to double that again on them …”
“That’s what I like about you, sir,” Hedley said. “You never take yes for enough of a flipping answer.”
“Don’t be insubordinate,” Angara said. “And shouldn’t you be figuring out who’s going to cadre for Second Brigade?”
“Well, me for Caud, and I’d love to take either Fitzgerald or Rees with me. You can bring up Ken Fong as your new XO. I’d suggest Jaansma, since he’s quicker than Fong, but still needs some seasoning. I’ve got a little list here of some other people.”
“You did some fast planning on the way over here.”
“Sir,” Hedley said. “I’ve been organizing my own brigade since the day I got commissioned, all the way back on Centrum.”
“I should have known. Beware the skinny bastards, for they have a lean and hungry look, or however that goes.�
��
• • •
“Congratulations again, sir,” Hedley said, becoming serious.
“It’s a start,” Angara said. “A definite start.”
“Hey, Garvin,” Njangu said. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Ha. I laugh,” Njangu said, and Garvin finally noticed his friend’s slightly worried look.
“Sorry. Listening.”
“How do you know what love is?”
“Uh-oh,” Garvin said. “Two uh-ohs, in fact.”
“I mean, I wasn’t ever shy about things with women or anything,” Njangu said. “My clique wasn’t celibate, and there were girls I liked beyond going to bed with. And I guess Jo Poynton and I got along fine. But it didn’t matter that much when we split up, either time, other’n being maybe a little lonely for a while.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with being lonely,” Njangu said. Suddenly introspective, he said, softly, “Hell, maybe I been lonely all my goddamned life, and not known it.”
Garvin shifted, a bit uncomfortably. Their friendship was firmly founded on not talking seriously about the important things.
“Sorry,” Njangu said, seeing Garvin’s expression.
“So you think you’re in love with Maev?”
“Shit, I dunno what I’m feeling about her,” Njangu said. “I like seeing her, being around her, and she’s always got good ideas.
“But love? I don’t know what love is, I think I realized. Which is why I thought I’d ask you.”
“Of course I’m a grand expert,” Garvin said. “And just so you don’t take anything I come up with seriously, I was thinking about asking you the same question.”
Njangu stared at Garvin.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“That’s what I said, a couple seconds ago.”
“So what’s the matter with you and Jasith?”
“I … I dunno,” Garvin said. “Maybe nothing.”
