Battlecruiser Alamo - 7 - Battlecruiser Alamo: Sacred Honor
Page 8
“Ah, we must be at another site,” Durman said. “I reckon there was a great civilization here once, long ago. There are relics of them everywhere. No-one’s ever taken a serious look, though. Not enough money, or people, I guess. When we’ve taken down the Confederation, there might be time for all of that.”
“It would be nice to think so,” she replied, pointing down at the dirt. “You see that?” It really was the oldest trick in the book, but this time it actually seemed to work as Durman dropped to his knees.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Right there,” she said, and as he peered over, she hit him on the back of the neck with an expert chop, sending him crashing to the ground. Racing over to the car, she snatched a coil of cable, evidently intended for securing trophies, and wrapped it around his wrists and ankles. It took an effort to get him back into the car, this time into the passenger seat, but she couldn’t leave him out there. No matter that it would be the sensible thing to do, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Sliding into the driving seat, she turned on the motor, and experimented with the throttle for a moment, heading in a straight line at first before experimenting with turns. Once satisfied that she could drive, at least after a fashion, she started to set up the on-board navigator, punching in the coordinates on the note as Durman groaned back to consciousness.
“What are you doing?” he said with surprising calmness.
“Sorry, but I warned you I needed to go out by myself.”
“If you’d made your argument that forcefully at the runway, I’d have listened. Who are you?”
She turned to him, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m Sub-Lieutenant Margaret Orlova, commanding the Triplanetary Battlecruiser Hercules. I’m afraid that we’ve had to be rather less than honest – and now that you know the truth, I’m going to have to take some...precautions.”
He rose an eyebrow, “Is this some type of loyalty test?”
“No test.”
“Then why tell me?”
“You might as well know why. The moment I hit you on the head I’d broken cover anyway.”
Gesturing back with his head, he said, “You should have left me in the desert.”
“If I’d done that, I might as well just switch sides myself. Now let me concentrate, I’ve never driven one of these things before.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said as they went over a bump, “but it shows.”
Chapter 9
Zebrova, Lane and Mulenga sat opposite Marshall, waiting with various degrees of patience for him to finish going over the report on Cooper’s interrogation. He was satisfied to see that the Corporal had said nothing of his secret meeting, or his reasons for seeking out Matsumoto, though it certainly didn’t help his case much. As soon as the saboteur was caught, Cooper could easily be exonerated – though a little voice in his mind still had some doubts, wondered whether perhaps Cooper had committed the murder.
“As you can see,” Lane said, “we have grounds to proceed to an immediate court-martial. A field court-martial with this evidence…”
“What’s your hurry, Lieutenant?” Zebrova said. “He’s in detention and safe; should he be found guilty…”
“Should? Have you seen the evidence?”
“Yes, and I have to admit it looks strong.”
“Too strong,” Mulenga said. “I know Cooper, sir, and I find it impossible to think that he would kill a fellow crewman in cold blood. He isn’t the type.” Looking across at Lane, he said, “In addition, I would hope that if he did, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use a bullet that literally had his name on it.”
“I caught him in the act, Lieutenant,” Lane replied. “Before he could cover his tracks. Presumably he had intended to retrieve the bullet.”
“There is no footage of him firing the weapon,” Zebrova said. “A court-martial at this point would be problematic at best, in any case.”
“There are two officers of sufficient seniority present.”
Marshall smiled, replying, “I can’t ever remember a court-martial where the two presiding officers were father and son. In any event, I am forced to agree with Lieutenant Zebrova. There is no need to hold a court-martial until we return to Triplanetary space.”
“And if we get captured?” Lane pressed. “He gets to go back to his masters, and justice fails.”
“The maximum sentence for any crime other than treason under Triplanetary law is life imprisonment, Lieutenant,” Marshall replied, furrows building on his forehead. “I certainly hope that you aren’t suggesting that we should change that arbitrarily.”
“As a commander in the field, at a time of war…”
“Not declared war,” Mulenga interrupted. “Legally, that’s important, and as far as I’m concerned, we are still bound by the Code of Military Justice.”
“You have options, Captain,” Lane said. “I don’t want to see him walk free.”
“Whether he is guilty or not, Lieutenant?” Mulenga asked. “You were very quick to discover him.”
Turning to face him, Lane said, “Are you implying something? Feel free to say whatever you want, my whereabouts are a matter of record, and I have witnesses that will testify that I was not involved.”
“A Petty Officer you are having an affair with?” Mulenga said, his face deepening. “That’s not testimony, Lieutenant, that’s an indictment.”
“That’s enough, both of you,” Marshall replied, raising his voice to break up the argument. “Lieutenant Lane, Corporal Cooper is innocent until proven guilty. Were I to sit on a court-martial for him based on this evidence, I would honestly struggle to convict. As far as I am concerned, the situation for the present is closed.”
Lane stood up, looking down at Marshall at his desk, “You are making a mistake, sir.”
“So are you, right now, Lieutenant. Sit down.”
“For one thing, if Cooper is not guilty,” Zebrova said, “there is still a murderer on Alamo. He could strike again. With so few espatiers we can’t set up effective patrols. I would suggest that we issue sidearms to the crew.”
“Sidearms, Lieutenant?” Marshall said, eyes widening.
“I don’t make this suggestion lightly, sir,” she replied. “I am aware of the potential precedent it sets, but certainly the murderer, whoever he is,” she glanced at Lane, “is armed. It seems only fair to allow his potential victims the same advantage.”
Shaking his head, Mulenga replied, “There is a reason that sidearms are not generally issued on warships, Lieutenant. While everyone had been through basic training, for some of the crew that was a long time ago. Bullets and sensitive components are not good companions.”
“This is ridiculous,” Lane said. “If there is a murderer still on board, then she’s right. You need to give the crew the means to defend themselves against them.”
With a deep breath, Marshall nodded, saying, “I agree. See that all personnel are issued with firearms, but I want everyone to re-certify on the ship’s range at the earliest opportunity. Certainly within five days.”
“The crew are working around the clock as it is,” Zebrova said. “That’s going to be hard to schedule.”
“Think of it as an opportunity to work out some tension. They can shoot at pictures of me if they wish, but Mr. Mulenga is quite correct about the risks we’re running.”
Making a note on her datapad, Zebrova replied, “Very well, sir.”
“I think that’s everything. Dismissed.”
“May I have a word with you, sir?” Mulenga said. Looking up at the others, he continued, “Just you, sir.”
“Very well. And Lane, remember that this investigation is Lieutenant Bailey’s, not yours.”
Red-faced, she replied, “I thought the safety of the ship was everyone’s concern.”
“In your area, Lieutenant. I
caution you to remember where the boundaries of your responsibilities are.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied as she left the office, Zebrova trailing behind her. Mulenga, still sitting in his chair, tried to suppress a chuckle.
“She builds up quite a head of steam, sir,” he replied. “Though I think her heart is in the right place.”
“She’s a pain in the ass, but as long as she’s doing her job, I can live with that. Maybe we can tame her yet, given time.”
“Or transfer her off the ship at the first opportunity.” He leaned forward, “Cooper is not the murderer, sir. There is so much evidence of a circumstantial nature that it almost has to have been faked.”
“To the point that I think the idea was to make that clear. If someone wanted to frame Cooper for the murder of Matsumoto, they could do a far better job.”
“The saboteur has deprived us of our only remaining espatier NCO, as well as the highest-rated watch officer. Perhaps that was the idea all along.”
Marshall sat back in his chair, eyes widening, “Damn. I didn’t think of that.”
“You cannot order the release of Cooper without sufficient evidence of another’s guilt, of course. If only because of the outcry it would cause among the rest of the officers.”
“Mind if I bring another officer into this meeting?” Marshall tapped a button on his desk, “Lieutenant Bailey, report to my office on the double.”
“I’m surprised she wasn’t here earlier.”
“Regulations. Decisions of this type are made by the commanding officer in consultation with his three senior officers.”
“Normally, that would not have stopped you.”
With a shrug and a smile, Marshall replied, “To be honest, I didn’t actually think anything positive would be decided at this meeting. I had no intention of permitting a court-martial at this time, no matter what Lane and her cohorts are agitating for.”
The door opened, and the slight figure of Lieutenant Bailey sidled in. While she was one of the recent acquisitions from Hercules, she had always seemed rather separate from them, as though not part of the clique. With a nod at Mulenga, she sat down opposite Marshall, resting her hands on the desk.
“I presume this is about Corporal Cooper, sir.”
“A question, first, Lieutenant. Who killed Sub-Lieutenant Matsumoto, in your opinion as it stands at this moment?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea, Captain.”
“Not Cooper?”
“Too obvious, sir. I am acting on the assumption that there is still a murderer at large, and my investigation is proceeding along those lines. Thus far I have narrowed the list down to twenty-one suspects.”
“Twenty-one?” Marshall’s eyes widened. “Did she have that many enemies?”
“Oh, no, sir. Based on location and access to firearms. To be honest, this is a little beyond my experience. I’ve spent most of the last day cramming some courses on criminology. It’s actually really interesting.” She slid over a datapad, “If the position of Security Officer is intended to include this sort of activity in the future, I have some recommended additions to the training program.”
“And your immediate recommendations?”
“I understand that all personnel are to be equipped with firearms? That’s a sensible precaution.” She rubbed a hand across her chin, then continued, “How much disruption are you willing to tolerate, sir?”
“Nothing that gets in the way of ship repairs.”
“Then I fear that precludes precautions such as the buddy system, even in high-security areas. Nor the installation of a more extensive network of security monitoring. I’m afraid there isn’t actually much that we can do, though I would recommend that all personnel should also carry communicators at all times as well.”
“Good idea,” Mulenga said. “Probably more effective than High Noon on the hangar deck, anyway.”
“Sir,” Bailey said, glancing across at Mulenga, “Can I speak freely?”
“Go ahead.”
“If Corporal Cooper was conducting an investigation into the saboteur, I really should have been informed. And if my previous position on Hercules precludes you trusting me, then I cannot operate as your Security Officer.”
Nodding, Mulenga said, “I knew it.”
“How the hell did you work that out, Bailey?”
“Proceeding from the presumption that Corporal Cooper was innocent, there had to be some good reason that he broke into Matsumoto’s cabin. She had been absent from the bridge, and appears to have been investigating sabotage herself, I suspect on her own initiative. Either Cooper and Matsumoto were working together, or her behavior had attracted Cooper’s suspicions.”
“Why wouldn’t Cooper be working on his own initiative?”
“Such an investigation is outside his normal field of expertise, or his established duties. I doubt he would have launched it by himself. If Matsumoto had been working on your order, Captain, you would have said so.”
Shaking his head, Marshall replied, “Bailey, you are competent enough to be dangerous. Once you’ve finished this meeting, go and discuss your suspicions with Lieutenant Caine. I suggest you have dinner with her.”
Arching an eyebrow, she said, “Dinner?”
“That’s an order, Lieutenant. You’ll understand why afterward.”
“Very well, sir.”
“You might as well head off now. Dismissed.”
She stood to attention, saluted, and replied, “Aye, sir.” As she reached the door, Marshall said.
“You have my full confidence, Lieutenant. If you didn’t before, you do now.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she replied as she left.
Mulenga, shaking his head, said, “Do I?”
“Only three other people knew about Cooper, and all of them are working on...something else I can’t talk about. I trust you, but this time…”
“I don’t need to know,” he replied with a smile. “I’m busy enough with all of these course plots, anyway. What are you going to do about Cooper?”
“For the present, there isn’t anything I can do. I’d like to just release him, but even if I did his investigation is at an end. Nor can I really assign anyone else to it.” He tapped his fist on the desk, continuing, “I feel like someone is playing with me.”
“Maybe they are. Whoever this person is, he’s trying to keep us all off-balance. We just lost more than a hundred man-hours on firearms training, not to mention focusing your attention on something other than the task at hand. We can’t let him get to us.”
“And if he keeps killing crewmen?”
Folding his fingers together, Mulenga replied, “To me it appears that his – or her, for that matter – goal is to throw us off-balance and prepare for a Cabal attack. Did it occur to you that the sabotage at the hangar deck could easily have included the elevator airlocks?”
“It did. And that if he wanted us all dead, he could do it without that much trouble. They want to capture this ship, and its crew, probably for the same reasons that we wanted to capture Hercules.”
“I presume that you won’t let that happen?”
“If worst comes to worst, the crew can abandon ship. I don’t intend to allow Alamo to suffer the same fate as Hercules. This ship isn’t serving under an enemy flag.”
Nodding, Mulenga replied, “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you.”
“Every night for weeks.”
“What are you going to do about the saboteur?”
“Bailey is quite right; there isn’t that much I can do, especially now. Cooper was spotted as soon as he started to investigate, and has been rather effectively neutralized. I don’t dare risk assigning someone else unless I know how he was caught.”
“I don’t like to say this, but…”
With a thin smile, Marshall said, “
You’re about to say that it is possible that one of the people I already told was the saboteur. Or even Cooper himself, his mission accomplished.”
“It would be a surprisingly safe place to hide. Have you considered that there might be two saboteurs on board?”
“I did, and I dismissed it. This person is working alone; it’s a lot safer for him that way, anyway, and none of the things he had done have required more than a single person. I suppose that it is possible that there are two people in league with each other, but that seems unnecessarily complicated to me. Not the Cabal’s style.”
“Are you proceeding with your plan?”
“Hitting transports is about the best thing we can do at the moment.”
“That task force will be looking for us.”
“True, but they won’t know where to look, and space is big and littered with hendecaspace points. I think we’re safe enough until we reach the next bottleneck.”
“And what happens then?”
Shaking his head, Marshall replied, “Then we’ll just have to see what happens then.”
Nodding, Mulenga rose from his chair. “I guess I’d better go off and plot some more escape courses. Tyler said he’d have some more information on course projections for me by now.”
“Let me know what you come up with.”
“Of course.” He turned, and left the room, leaving Marshall alone at his desk. He turned, looking out of the viewport at the unfamiliar stars, just catching a faint glimpse of the dying red sun. He almost laughed; when he’d dreamed of exploration, he’d hoped to actually see something new. This was an unwanted star system, probably surveyed by the Cabal a dozen times to see if there was anything left exploiting, and now visited only by the occasional passing starship. Humanity had been, and principally, gone.
Turning back to his desk, he looked at his logs, the record of the mission to date, scrolling through the highlights. Capturing the pirates at Kumar, rescuing his father, briefly retaking Hercules before losing it once again, and getting the data. A thought flashed in his mind, and he stabbed at the communicator.
“Lieutenant Bailey.”