"How long have you known?" Blair demanded.
Paladin didn't answer right away. "Since. . . since before Concordia was lost," he admitted.
Blair felt the anger surging within, his fists clenching with the sudden desire to strike out at the man. "You bastard," he said. "When I asked, you stood there and lied to me."
"Laddie, I had to do it. I was under orders myself. . . ."
"All the missions we flew together — they didn't mean a damn thing, did they?" Blair demanded. "You out there on my wing, protecting me . . ."
"Don't you see that's what I was doing by not telling you?" Paladin said. "Look, ladie . . . look what ye almost did out there, when ye learned of it all. I was protecting you again . . . from yourself."
Blair looked away, at the holo projector sitting beside his bed. He hadn't played the message again since learning she was dead, but he heard it in his dreams all too often. "You know what she meant to me."
"Aye, lad, I do indeed." Taggart paused. "But we're fighting a war, son. We've all lost someone close to us. It doesna make you special."
"Yeah, right," Blair said. "I've heard the whole routine before. It doesn't get better with repetition."
Paladin shrugged. "I suppose not. But the fact is, lad, that we couldna tell anyone about Angel. Not until now. Not without ruining the work she did before she died."
He didn't answer, but he met Taggart's eyes.
"Her last mission was a part of my project, laddie. Not sae grand, perhaps, as Auld Geoff and his Behemoth, But a way tae end this war, once and for all. And satis up tae you, Chris Blair, tae finish what Angel started."
* * *
Captain's Ready Room, TCS Victory.
Blackmane System
Like his arrival, the briefing Paladin gave the next morning was a low-key affair. Instead of an audience of aides and ship's officers, the general limited the briefing to Blair and Eisen. He wasted no time on useless preliminaries or self-congratulation.
"We've got a lot to cover, and damned little time to do it in." Blair always noticed that Paladin's accent faded as he focused on important matters, and today was no exception. "Covert Ops lost out to Admiral Tolwyn when it came time for HQ to decide on a response to the Kilrathi biological threat, but like him we've had an operation in train for several years. Its a long shot, I'll grant you, but it can work. It has to."
Blair noticed a look of distaste on Eisen's face. After Behemoth, another long shot was the last thing any of them wanted.
"You hae already been briefed on the seismic instability of Kilrah," Paladin went on. "It was central to the whole Behemoth project, the notion that even if the weapon wasn't able to bust a planet cold, it could at least shake the place apart when applied against the right target. Our project tackled the same concept from anither angle, one more in keeping with the philosophy of Covert Ops."
He punched a code into the keypad in front of him and the map table came to life, projecting an image of a torpedo-shaped device into the air between the three men. "This is the Temblor Bomb," he said quietly. "It was developed by Doctor Philip Severin, one of the top research men in the Confederation. It's been undergoing tests for some time now . . . nearly a decade, in fact."
The view changed to schematics. It brought back unpleasant thoughts of Tolwyn's Behemoth lecture, and Blair shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Eisen's face was a study in bland neutrality as he regarded the holographic image
"The bomb operates on the principle of seismic resonance," Taggart continued. "Detonated in the right place, at the proper juncture of tectonic fault lines, it will set up a series of quakes which will increase in intensity until Kilrah is quite literally shaken apart." Paladin spread his hands. "Unfortunately, the weapon doesna lend itself to pretty demonstrations on backwater worlds. There's only a handful of planets we know of where the Temblor Bomb could do its work, and Kilrah is at the top of the list. The High Command wanted something they could escalate up to gradually, so they threw their weight behind Admiral Tolwyn and the Behemoth."
Blair frowned. "I've said all along that I'm against —"
"Laddie," Taggart said sternly. "I'd like nothing better than to find a solution that didn't involve civilian casualties, but the simple fact is we do not have one at hand." He paused. "Right now we have to stop the Empire cold. Not just a defeat, but a final defeat. The Imperial hierarchy is so centralized, so built around the idea of Kilrah as the core of their entire culture, that the destruction of the planet will bring the rest of the Empire to a halt. Even if there are a few warlords who want to fight, the other Kilrathi worlds will come apart as clans and factions and splinter groups start fighting for a new equilibrium. And that's our only hope of bringing the war to a quick end."
Eisen looked at him. "The brass must have thought a negotiated settlement was possible," he commented. "They wanted Tolwyn to demonstrate Behemoth and make the Kilrathi come to the peace table."
"Aye, that was the hope," Paladin admitted slowly. "Though you must know that the admiral had no plans tae stop with Loki. He knew, just as I do, that Thrakhath and his Emperor willna stop fighting as long as they see a hope of winning. And a balance of power, their bioweapons against our Behemoth, would have meant the advantage of numbers and strategic position was still with the Empire."
"It sounds to me like there was never any choice at all," Blair said quietly.
"Laddie, there wasn't." Paladin looked grim. "Fact is, even if Auld Geoff had decided tae hold off, I was ready to launch a Temblor Bomb attack on Kilrah on my ain authority."
"What?" Eisen looked shocked. "You'd have been court-martialed six ways from Sunday!"
"Aye, true enough," Paladin said. "But my career doesna mean much set against the end of this damned war. Our hope was that the cats would hear about Behemoth's attack on Loki and assemble the bulk of their reserve fleet tae intercept it. I persuaded Captain Chalfonte tae take Eagle into Imperial territory tae launch the Temblor Bomb strike on Kilrah while the cats were chasing Behemoth. But they were a step ahead of us, it seems. Thrakhath had a strike force ready at Loki, and never touched the reserves. Eagle ran into trouble before we got anywhere near Kilrah. We had tae break off and retreat with heavy damage."
"So it's over, then," Blair said bitterly.
"Not yet, it isn't," Taggart said. "That's why I'm here. Now that Behemoth has failed, Sector HQ has authorized the Temblor strike. This time, when we go in, we'll be supported by a fleet. If we can penetrate the defenses that turned Eagle back, and get a few fighters through, we can still drop the bomb and destroy the planet."
"That doesn't sound like a long shot," Blair said. "It sounds like no shot at all. A fleet couldn't penetrate all the way to Kilrah, and anything less than a fleet would be carved up before you could say here, kitty, kitty!
"Dinna be sae sure, laddie," Paladin said with a wolfish grin. "Covert Ops didna gae into this thing blind. Fact is, a squadron of fighters can do what a fleet cannot hope to . . . thanks to Jeannette Devereaux."
"Angel? Where does she come into all this?" Blair was still frowning.
"Her last mission was to Kilrah, laddie, aboard a captured Kilrathi freighter we rigged up with a nice little cargo of goodies." Despite his almost bantering tone, his eyes were dead serious. "You see, we kenned just fine that we couldna bull our way through to Kilrah. So instead we've arranged for a . . . more stealthy approach." He manipulated his keyboard, and a new schematic appeared. Blair recognized it. He had seen Rachel pouring over these same plans once.
"An Excalibur?" he said, raising his eyebrows.
"Aye. Eagle carries a squadron of them, the first operational squadron. They have a limited jump capability, and a cloaking device — which means they can penetrate the Kilrah System in secret, carry out the mission, and hopefully get clear again when it's over." Taggart raised his hand to ward off the protests that sprang to Blair lips. "Hear me out, laddie. You'll be wanting to say yon fighter doesna have the range tae make a jump and proceed al
l the way in to Kilrah. That's true enough. But Angels mission was to survey a jump point that we didna previously know about, and tae make some stops along the way in to Kilrah." A map appeared over the table, showing the Kilrah System. "Here . . . here . . . and again, here. Asteroids . . . the last of them Kilrah's outer moon, which barely merits the label. And on each one, a hidden supply cache hollowed out by Angel and her crew. Big enough to take in a squadron of ships, but well camouflaged. Each equipped with fuel, missile reloads, the works. And this one —" He indicated Kilrah's tiny second moon. "In this cache, a pair of Temblor Bombs, all set and ready to load."
"You mean they're already out there?" Blair demanded. "But Angel's people were caught. Interrogated. The Kilrathi could have found them all by now. . . ."
Taggart shook his head. "Nae, laddie. These were Covert Ops people, dinna forget. Conditioned not tae remember anything of the mission, once they were caught. Not even Thrakhath's torturers could hae pried anything out of them."
"So the caches are still there," Blair said slowly. "Just . . . waiting."
"Aye. Waiting," Paladin said. "Angel did her job well. Those bombs are aye big, laddie, so big ye couldna carry any other missiles once you mounted one. Planting them here was the best solution. You go into the system fully armed, so you can deal with any patrols you run into along the way. But when you make the bomb run, it'll be from close range. There's less chance of disaster this way. Even if you lose ships going in, the ones that are left can still pick up the bombs and carry out the mission."
"If they're hidden, how do we locate them?" Blair asked. "Transponders?"
Paladin nodded. "Aye. They'll respond on a very high band, and only when you fire a query at them. Believe me, laddie, we've done everything we can tae make this work."
"You're sure Colonel Devereaux got all the way and set up all three depots?" Eisen asked.
"She did," Paladin said quietly. "She managed tae send out a coded signal, before the cats took her ship. A scout ship posted in the Oort Cloud monitored it and brought word tae us." He paused. "It was frae them we learned of the capture. . . and the execution, as well. Then the cats put it out on their propaganda broadcasts. . . ."
"And you really think this plan can work?" Blair said quietly, changing the subject. He didn t want to think about Angel's death, not now. "Aye, laddie, it will work. Because it has to."
* * *
Officer's Quarters, TCS Victory.
Blackmane System
"Because it has to." The image on the screen was too small to pick up details, but the voices had been clear enough. It had been a good idea, placing cameras where they might pick up important meetings.
The spy shut off the monitor as the briefing dispersed. It seemed that the threat to Kilrah was not over yet, even with the destruction of Behemoth. Thrakhath's instructions didn't cover this eventuality, and there would be no ships lurking nearby to pick up another broadcast.
If the spy was to alert the Prince of this new danger it would require careful preparation indeed. But it had to be done. . . .
For the glory of Kilrah!
CHAPTER XXVII
Flight Control, TCS Victory.
Blackmane System
"That's the last of them, Colonel. Eight Excaliburs, all ready for action."
Blair stared at the flight deck through the transparent wall of Flight Control, studying the lines of the last of the new fighters as it rolled slowly to a halt inside the hangar area. On Paladin's orders, the Excaliburs came from Eagle in exchange for Gold Squadron's Thunderbolts. They certainly looked impressive enough. Blair hoped a few days of patrols would give the pilots a chance to get used to them before they went into action in Paladin's crazy scheme to attack Kilrah. "I hope they're all they're cracked up to be," he said quietly.
"Believe me, skipper, they're the hottest birds that ever hauled jets off a carrier deck," Rachel Coriolis said. She wore an expression of sheer joy as she contemplated the new craft. "These beauties are a mechanic's dream. At long last, I get to really show what I can do."
"Oh, I don't know, Chief," Blair said, glancing at her enraptured face and giving her a smile. "I've been pretty impressed right from the start."
"Yeah, but you haven't seen everything, not by a long shot," she said, flashing an answering grin. She moved a little closer to him and lowered her voice. "It might not be proper protocol to make the first move with an officer and all . . . but how about we get together later on and I'll show you the rest? Sooner or later, you and me, we've got to let go of the ghosts. Figure out if the parts'll fit somewhere else . . . if you know what I mean?"
Blair hesitated, looking into her dark eyes. He couldn't now deny being attracted to Rachel, her quiet strength and her irreverent humor. Always before it seemed too much like a betrayal of Angel. . . .
But Angel was gone, and she would have been the first one to want him to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. Rachel had already helped him over the first, most difficult adjustment. It seemed right, somehow, that they travel further down the road she helped him find that led out of the darkness.
"You think our parts might mesh, Chief?" he asked her, his smile broadening.
"You never know until you take a test run," she said. "Tonight, maybe?"
"Tonight," he agreed quietly.
He was almost surprised at the intensity of the emotion behind that one simple word.
* * *
Flight Wing Rec Room, TCS Victory.
Blackmane System
"Got a minute, Colonel? Before I have to go on watch?"
Blair looked up at Lieutenant Rollins and gave him a curt nod. "Sure. Pull up a chair." He hesitated, studying the young communications officer's worried expression. "What's on your mind, Lieutenant?"
Rollins sat down, looking uncomfortable. "I think I've finally turned up something solid, Colonel. In that . . . matter Cobra and I've been looking into."
"And that is?"
"I figured out where I'd seen that harmonic pattern before," Rollins told him. "It's been used a time or two in psychiatric work. Personality overlays . . ." Rollins hesitated. "Sometimes, with a subject, you want to be able to switch from a substitute personality to the original, or back again. They use it in therapy, overlaying a well-adjusted behavior pattern over a personality that's got problems, but the doctors want to be able to retrieve the original identity, locate the root of the problem."
"Yeah, I've heard about it. You think it applies here?"
"If I'm right, the Kilrathi might have used that message from Thrakhath as a carrier for a personality trigger. When it was played, it brought up a different personality in a Kilrathi agent on board." Rollins hesitated. "If Cobra's right, it would have brought back an original personality in Hobbes, something overlaid by the one we've known all along. Or . . ."
"Or what?" Blair demanded.
"I . . . was thinking about what you said. About Cobra. She admitted there was something familiar about the signal, but she didn't say what. But it set me to thinking. What if the signal was supposed to bring up an implanted personality in her . . . something programmed by the Kilrathi to make her work as a spy. Hell, she might not even be aware of it any more, if the work was sophisticated enough."
Blair looked down at his drink. "Once again, there's no real proof," he said slowly. "We can hatch theories until the sun goes nova, but without real evidence . . .
"I know, sir," Rollins said, biting his lower lip and looking worried. "But . . . hell, I don't know what to think any more or who to trust. I think I've identified another part of Thrakhath's transmission that carries a low-frequency side message, but it seems like it's a pretty old code. It was discontinued a while back, and is no longer in our current files. I'm still trying to reconstruct it. Maybe we'll know more then. But meantime, what do I do? Tell Cobra? If she's the spy . . .
"Keep it to yourself, Lieutenant," Blair said. His wrist implant chimed a reminder. "Damn. I've got a meeting with Paladin and the Capt
ain." He stood up. "You keep working on that signal, Lieutenant. Crack it fast because we have to find out if there really is a leak — before we start General Taggart's new mission.
* * *
Flight Deck, TCS Victory.
Blackmane System
Lieutenant Laurel Buckley studied the sleek lines of the Excalibur and gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Man, oh man, that is a thing of beauty," she said softly. Cobra was looking forward to trying the new craft out, even if it was only a routine patrol.
"I'll say," Chief Coriolis said, looking up from where she was kneeling, checking the locking mechanism on the forward landing gear "This is one nice piece of machinery."
"Where's Ski, Chief?" Cobra asked. Technician First Class Glazowski was her usual plane captain, but he was nowhere in sight.
"Had to put all the Gold Squadron plane captains through a crash course on how to care and feed these beauties," Rachel told her. "I'm the only one who's up on the specs at the moment. Don't worry, he'll be done by the time your patrol gets back." She looked around. "Who's going out with you?"
"Vaquero," Cobra said. "Except he's late, as usual." She moved over to the cockpit ladder. "I swear he'll be late to his own cantina opening."
"I'll have Flight Control put out a call for him," Rachel said. "You need any help strapping on this baby?"
"Nah. Looks like you're overworked as it is."
"I'll say. I'm supposed to have five techs on every bird. Today I've only got three to get both you guys up and flying." The tech looked disgusted. "My watch roster looks thinner every day, seems like."
"Well, I can run through my checklist just fine by myself. Just don't forget to send somebody out here to give me my clearance when it's time to launch!"
Rachel chuckled and turned away. Buckley paused at the bottom of the ladder and cocked her head to one side. Something . . . someone was moving around on the other side of the Excalibur.
She set her helmet and gauntlets down on the wing and ducked under the fuselage to investigate. From what Rachel just said there shouldn't have been any technicians working in that corner of the bay. . . .
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