Into the Light
Page 60
“But they outnumbered us by double!”
Juzhyr snapped both left thumbs dismissively. “The day the head of my Army, along with four handpicked troopers, can’t defend themselves from ten religious fanatics, is the day I need to find a new head of the Army.” Ou looked pointedly at Flythyr’s leg. “And I very nearly did.” Juzhyr shrugged. “Still, you served a purpose, and you did survive, so my confidence in you wasn’t misplaced.”
Ou turned back to Myrcal. “Now that that’s settled, let us speak of this death certificate that’s appeared. Does our agent on Bardyn’s staff know what was spoken about on the Earthians’ ship?”
Myrcal nodded in unhappy negation and beckoned for Hyrkyl to respond.
“He’s not on one of the teams Bardyn sent to Myrcos, Clan Ruler,” the herdsman consort said, “so he wasn’t able to learn much about their findings, beyond the discovery of the death certificate, although he doesn’t think they’ve found anything else significant. But thanks to him we at least know Bardyn made the trip, and I doubt he would have if he hadn’t planned on laying their current findings on the table.”
“This isn’t good.” Flythyr’s nasal flaps closed tightly. “In fact, this is very bad.”
“I’m afraid I must agree,” Myrcal said with manifest reluctance.
“Why?” Juzhyr asked. “Because one operative’s cover was blown?”
“Clan Lord,” Hyrkyl said diffidently, “that may be only the first stone of an avalanche.”
“Why?” Juzhyr repeated impatiently.
“First,” Hyrkyl replied, with what Flythyr thought was remarkable courage, “the Diantians—and the Earthians with them—are going to realize Trygau was a plant. Second,” he continued, counting on his fingers, “Sokyr is no longer around. It won’t be long until they start to ask questions about where ou went. It’s going to be obvious someone from outside the organization was planted there specifically to take it over, and, third, Bardyn is no fool. It won’t take him long to figure out that he can’t find Sokyr because ‘Trygau’ eliminated oum specifically to direct a series of attacks attributed to Sokyr, a Diantian religious hothead, as a way to make Dianto look bad.
“While we aren’t afraid to do something like that to ourselves and then blame Dianto,” Hyrkyl’s eyes dipped briefly to Flythyr’s wounds, “they would never have the fortitude to do so. And terrorist organizations don’t have the foresight, planning, or manning to get someone like Trygau into place so long before the operation actually occurred; only nations do. And if Dianto wasn’t responsible for the attacks, despite all of the equipment pointing the finger at the Republic—and the number of genuine Diantians committing them—then the next place Dianto and the Earthians will come looking is right here. Uncovering ‘Trygau’ won’t confirm our participation in the attacks, unless they manage to capture him and he talks, but it will certainly cause them to wonder about us.”
“This is your plan, Myrcal, and your blunder,” Juzhyr said. “Not only has your incompetence put us into a very dangerous position with this operation, you also appear to be driving the Earthians into the Diantians’ claws. Bardyn went up to the Earthians’ spaceship? Next it will be Prime Director Qwelth going up to the Earthians’ ship for long, moonlit dinners under the stars, then word of Dianto signing a treaty with the Earthians that doesn’t include us! How do you intend to fix this?”
Myrcal was unable to meet the clan lord’s eyes for a moment, then ous head came back up. “I will talk with the Earthians, and I will get the finger pointed back at the Diantians.”
“And how do you intend to do that?” Juzhyr asked. “Councilor Arthur is still at the Nonagon and even Abu and Fikriyah Batma are back aboard their ship up in space!”
“Representative Theodore is still here, though,” Myrcal said with a smile. He nodded towards Flythyr. “And, thanks to our somewhat unwilling head of the Army saving him, he owes us a favor.”
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR seeing me on such short notice,” Myrcal said. “I hope you’re doing well after your recent harrowing experience?”
“I am,” Theodore Berke replied, turning away from the balcony and the royal gardens he’d been looking over. Despite the results of his last meeting here, Myrcal had been told the Earthians found the gardens relaxing and hoped for a happier ending this time. “Although I’m sorry your troops had to give their lives for me.”
Myrcal shook his head slowly. “Yes, it is unfortunate; however, that’s what troops are supposed to do—to give their lives—so that their country can move on to bigger and better things.” He waved Berke to one of the two chairs on the veranda. “And that’s what I’d hoped to talk with you about today.”
“Certainly,” Berke replied, sitting. “I’m at your disposal. What is it you wish to discuss?”
“Well, I had hoped to have this meeting with Ambassador Abu, but he doesn’t appear to be coming back soon.…”
“No, with the injury to Secretary Dvorak, he’s working through a number of issues aboard ship. It may be some time before he’s able to return to the planet.”
“I see…” Myrcal looked out over the gardens then returned his gaze to the Earthian. “Perhaps I should communicate directly with Councilor Arthur, then?”
The Earthian’s eyes widened for a moment, then he shook his head.
“That won’t be necessary, Minister. I can pass on any message through our channels here faster than it could go through Lyzan.”
“Thank you. Would you please inform him that I would very much like to express my concern over the … impression, shall we say, presented by Bardyn ShoKymBar nor Garyth’s trip up to your spaceship?”
The Earthian twitched back slightly; Myrcal had surprised him. Good!
“Um … yes?” the Earthian said after a moment. “What impression concerns you, Minister?”
“I’m worried about the precedent this sets,” Myrcal replied, “and how our people will view it. It almost appears as if you Earthians are looking to reach secret deals with the Diantians, contrary to everything you’ve said previously. Taking a member of their government—and the head of their intelligence directorate, at that—up into space is a major event. Is there some reason we were excluded? Denied the same opportunity? Something we’ve done to deserve this slap in the face? Something we’ve failed to provide you with as we both try to deal with the attacks that have so recently plagued our country?” He cocked his head as he’d seen the Earthians do. “Do you believe we were behind these attacks?”
“No!” Berke exclaimed.
“And do you think Councilor Arthur agrees with you about that?” Myrcal tightened ous nasal flaps to show ous anxiety … and realized it wasn’t entirely acting as ou waited for the Earthian’s response.
“Art—I mean, Councilor McCabe—hasn’t spoken directly to me about that,” he said after a moment. His translating device’s tone sounded almost surprised, and Myrcal’s heart sank. If Councilor Arthur was keeping his views that carefully hidden.…
“But while there are many people, both from Sarth and Earth, looking into a number of possible causes,” Berke continued, “there’s no doubt in my mind that you weren’t behind them. Heavens! I saw the aftermath of the battle—how your people gave their lives, and how even the head of your army was prepared to sacrifice her life to save mine. I know you’re not behind it.”
“Then can you tell me why you’re taking Diantians to your Vanguard, but aren’t interested in any information we may have uncovered?”
“I’m sure we’re interested in what you’ve found, although I know there were some … irregularities the Diantians found that have people all astir up there. I’m not at liberty to talk about what they are, but I’m given to understand they’re potentially damning.”
“So what are we to do?”
“I’ll liaise with my superiors and find out,” Berke replied. “And I’ll also reiterate my feeling on the battle I was a part of. I’m sure they’ll contact you soon.”
As they got up to leave the veranda, Myrcal was aware of two things. First, although the Earthian in front of him believed the Empire wasn’t behind the attacks, the Earthians in general were now leaning towards the conclusion that it was. And, second, ou had to do something major to bring the Earthians back into Clan Qwern’s camp.
. XVIII .
PUNS VANGUARD,
SARTH ORBIT;
CITY OF KWYZO NAR QWERN, QWERNIAN EMPIRE;
AND CITY OF DIANZHYR, REPUBLIC OF DIANTO,
PLANET SARTH
“What the hell do you think put the bug up Myrcal’s ass?” Rob Wilson asked irritably.
“Oh, most probably the fact that ou sees Bardyn’s visit up here as the first step in cutting the Empire out in the Republic’s favor,” Abu Bakr replied dryly.
“Oh, bullshit!” Wilson shook his head, expression irate. “Myrcal spends all ous time looking for things to be upset about. And if ou’s feeling left out in the cold, exactly whose fault is that?” The brigadier turned away to glare out at the blue-and-white marble of Sarth through the observation deck’s armorplast dome. “If the miserable son-of-a-bitch hadn’t been playing political games and refusing to talk to you, Dave wouldn’t have been in Dianzhyr that day in the first place! I care exactly squat about ous hurt feelings just this minute.”
Abu Bakr looked at the other man’s back with a faint, sympathetically sad smile. Wilson had come to the observation dome straight from having dinner with Morgana Dvorak, and Morgana was a doctor herself. She wasn’t a neurosurgeon, but she did have a basic medical degree as part of her psychology training, and she’d been looking at the scans of her father’s brain.
They were getting better, but.…
“I can’t say I disagree with you, Rob,” Abu Bakr said after a moment. “And remember, I’m the one who’s had the indescribable pleasure of working with oum on a regular basis. And just between you, me, and the observation dome, I wouldn’t trust oum as far as I could throw oum. The reason ou worries about us cutting deals with the Republic to freeze oum out is that ou was totally sincere when ou offered to make the Qwernians our sepoys to take over the entire frigging planet for us if we’d only cut everyone else out of any deals. And I’m pretty damned sure ou was already thinking forward to ous own version of the Sepoy Mutiny, too. But ou does have a point about appearances, if it should become publicly known that Bardyn came to call on us. Which, by the way, is one of the more interesting aspects of Berke’s conversation with oum, actually.”
Wilson turned back to raise one eyebrow above an angry blue eye, and Abu Bakr shrugged.
“We didn’t tell anyone he’d been up to orbit, and the Republic didn’t tell anyone that, but Myrcal knew about it anyway. How do you suppose that happened?”
“Obviously they’ve got someone inside the Diantian government.” It was Wilson’s turn to shrug. “There was some reason you thought they wouldn’t have spies in the Republic?”
“No, I just find it interesting that Myrcal effectively confirmed it for us.”
“Bastard probably figured it was so self-evident they’d be spying on the Republic—and vice versa, I’m sure—that there was no point pretending otherwise.”
“Probably. But I think ou confirmed something else for us, too.”
“And that would be … what, exactly?”
“That ou’s worried—badly worried—about what Bardyn may have had to say to us.”
“What? All ou complained about was what our own more despicable politicians refer to as the ‘optics,’” Wilson pointed out. “Ou didn’t say a word about any conversation we might’ve had with Bardyn once he was up here. Ou just complained about the fact that he was aboard ship to have it … and Myrcal wasn’t.”
“And as Sherlock Holmes once pointed out, the remarkable thing about the dog is that it didn’t bark during the night.”
Wilson blinked at him, then his eyes narrowed, some of the anger leaching out of them as his brain engaged fully.
“You’re right,” he said slowly. “Ou didn’t ask about what Bardyn might have had to say, either, did ou?”
“No, and I’ve listened to ous conversation with Berke several times now,” Abu Bakr said, and Wilson nodded. Berke’s phone had recorded the entire discussion with Myrcal.
“I won’t pretend I understand Sarthian psychology,” Abu Bakr continued. “I expect Myrcal’s is probably twistier than most, even if I did, too. But it’s evident that ou took it as a given that whatever Bardyn said had pointed a finger at the Empire. That was the thrust of ous entire exchange with Berke, and the software’s emotional overlays say ou was really worried about it, not just striking a pose to score diplomatic bargaining chips. Ou tried to hide it, but ou’s genuinely concerned we think the Empire somehow orchestrated the entire thing. Which is pretty strange, when all the known attackers have been Diantians, the communique claiming responsibility was issued by a Diantian religious nut, and ou didn’t even ask if Bardyn had offered any evidence that the Empire was pulling strings to make it all happen.”
“Ou may just automatically assume that if Bardyn’s pointing fingers at anyone, it would have to be the Empire,” Wilson pointed out in his best devil’s advocate voice, then chuckled harshly. “Probably a simple exercise in mirror-imaging. It’s sure as hell what ou’d be doing in Bardyn’s place!”
“Agreed. But first ou confirmed to Berke—which means to me—that they knew Bardyn had come aboard Vanguard. Ou didn’t have to do that, and if ou was going to, there are a lot of things Bardyn could have been doing besides casting suspicions on the Empire—or on anyone else, for that matter. It’s a matter of public record that Bardyn’s directorate’s in charge of investigating the Chelthist attacks, so he could very well have come up here to report a breakthrough on the domestic side of the investigation. We haven’t said a word to suggest that we think this was anything except an assault by Diantian religious fanatics. We’ve been very careful to label it as the criminal action of private Diantian citizens without assigning any responsibility to the Republic’s government, but we certainly haven’t suggested that any non-Diantian might have been behind it. For that matter, we’ve never said a word to suggest we think any government’s behind it. Yet Myrcal leapt immediately to asking Berke if we thought the Empire was responsible for it without even asking what Bardyn had said first. It’s entirely possible that it was a simple passive-aggressive response to being excluded from any ‘invitation’ to visit Vanguard, but listening to oum, watching the software overlays of ous emotions, ou’s obviously afraid we do think the Empire put this all together. And why would ou think we might have some reason to think anything of the sort?”
“If ous source in the Republic’s high enough to know about the Trygau death certificate, that might explain it,” Wilson said. “Ou may be figuring—and it wouldn’t really be all that unreasonable of oum—that if we think it was a state actor outside the Republic, then the Empire and the Qwernian Alliance are the only logical suspects.”
“Agreed,” Abu Bakr said again. “But Myrcal’s played the diplomacy game for a long time, Rob. Ou should damned well realize that the way questions get asked can compromise intelligence sources. Or, conversely, that how they’re asked can shape the way an adversary interprets those sources. What ou ought to have done was to ask what Bardyn had actually said. If Berke had told oum about the death certificate and the forensic evidence the autopsies have turned up, ou could have presented counter arguments or a defense against them—even suggested that perhaps the Diantians were manufacturing evidence to get themselves off the hook—without giving away anything about what their source had told them. Obviously, Berke might not have told him that, exactly the way that Berke didn’t tell him what has us ‘astir,’ but ou didn’t even probe. Ou just went straight to ‘how could you think that of us?’ mode. Now, I know I’m probably more suspicious than most, especiall
y after Naya Islamabad, but it seems to me that the fact ou didn’t ask about what Bardyn had to say confirms that ous source is high enough ou already knew about it. That’s a pretty high trump card to show us this early, especially if ou thinks there’s a chance we may hand that information to Bardyn, but that’s not the worst part of it. Potentially, at least.”
“It’s not?”
“No.” Abu Bakr shook his head, his expression unhappy. “Whatever else I think of Myrcal, ou’s been doing this long enough to know how the game is played. I don’t think it’s a good sign if ou’s so nervous about what we suspect that ou’s making that kind of careless, newbie mistake. It brings up that verse about the wicked fleeing when no one’s chasing them and makes me wonder—it makes me wonder a lot, Rob—if there’s some reason ou knows about that death certificate … and that it’s only the tip of a really messy iceberg. One ou’s afraid we and the Diantians might be about to dig up.”
“Wonderful.” Wilson’s expression was at least as unhappy as Abu Bakr’s. “I’ll admit there’s a part of me that would really like an excuse to kick Myrcal’s ass up between ous ears, but I don’t like where you’re going with this one at all.”
“I’m not too enthused about it myself. And I may be completely wrong, but once I got myself into ‘suspicious as hell’ mode, I realized there’s another aspect of that entire conversation that strikes me as odd.”
“What else?” Wilson eyed him with a certain trepidation.
“There’s something … off about the way ou asked about McCabe.”
“McCabe?” Wilson’s surprise was evident.
“McCabe,” Abu Bakr confirmed, and shrugged irritably. “I wish ou’d been talking to Fikriyah, not Berke. I wish I’d left her in Kwyzo nar Qwern instead of hauling her up here for that conference. She’s sat in on enough of my conversations with oum to have a better feel for ous mannerisms and tone, and I think Berke missed something she might have picked up on and tried to clarify.”