Death's Bright Day

by David Drake

  Daniel then shook the hand of each and every spacer who signed on. The line of those waiting to reenlist hadn’t yet finished moving past the formalities to Daniel.

  “Did anybody decide to go home?” Adele asked. Her first impulse had been to check the feed from the terminal on which Vesey was enrolling spacers and compare the number to the original crew list, but that would be discourteous.

  I mustn’t disappoint my mother’s spirit, Adele thought wryly. She didn’t believe in an afterlife: all that remained of Esme Rolfe Mundy was in Adele’s memory. But Adele had a very good memory.

  “Several hung back at first,” Miranda said, “but they seemed to be joining as the line moved.”

  She leaned over Adele’s shoulder to peer at the flat-plate screen. “That’s Brausher on the end, isn’t it?” Miranda said, pointing. “She said she was going back because her daughter’s pregnant. But she’s in the line now.”

  Miranda straightened and moved back slightly. “It’s going to be like this always in our marriage, isn’t it?” she said. “Daniel shipping out and me staying behind.”

  “I suppose so,” Adele said. She almost added, “I hope so,” but she didn’t need to say that. It probably wouldn’t have surprised Miranda, though.

  “This week here on Jardin has been wonderful,” Miranda said with her face to the outer bulkhead. “Jardin really is a paradise, just as my father said.”

  Adele thought back on her week, spent mostly aboard the Princess Cecile. She had sifted Grozhinski’s data and interfiled it with the material she had brought from Cinnabar. At each stage she had considered what the new situation meant for Daniel’s existing plan, and what further information she should try to gather when they reached Peltry.

  “Yes,” Adele said. She smiled faintly. “It’s been a good week.”

  “Adele, I have a personal question,” Miranda said. “You don’t have to answer me.”

  “Yes,” said Adele. Of course she didn’t have to answer a question. Under most circumstances refusing to would be more revealing than an answer, however.

  The last figures on the harborfront had reached Vesey. Only Brausher remained to sign the crew list.

  “Adele, do you ever worry that I’m going to take Daniel away from you?” Miranda said. “From you, from the Princess Cecile; from the RCN?”

  “No,” said Adele. Her frown was almost as slight as her smile of moments before. “I don’t think about the future, to be honest, just the task in front of me. But even if I did think about the future, I wouldn’t—Miranda, I don’t worry about Cinnabar falling into the sun either.”

  Miranda laughed. “Yes, that is silly, isn’t it?” she said. “Daniel will never leave the RCN, so of course you wouldn’t worry about that. But I won’t try, Adele. I wouldn’t want to do that even if I could.”

  Daniel was addressing the newly enrolled crew again from the boarding ramp. Adele could listen if she chose to, but she knew the sort of inspiring talk Daniel gave his crews at times like these.

  “I would miss Daniel,” Adele said. “If he died, if he left for any reason. But I think I would miss the community even more.”

  Her lips smiled. Miranda flinched; she must have seen the sadness beneath Adele’s expression.

  “Daniel isn’t the family of the Princess Cecile,” Adele said. “But the community wouldn’t exist without him to hold it together. And I would miss that very much. I’d never had a real family until I met Daniel on Kostroma.”

  The crew began boarding in a jaunty column, talking and apparently singing as they trotted up the ramp.

  “But you grew up at your home until, until the conspiracy, didn’t you?” Miranda said.

  Until my parents and sister were executed on the orders of Speaker Leary, Adele added in her mind. Aloud she said, “My father cared very much about political power; my mother cared about the family name and prestige. I didn’t care about either of those things, and they didn’t care about me.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Miranda whispered.

  The words shocked Adele. She said, “Don’t be. I have everything a person could want. Well, a person like me.”

  To change the subject and because she had just remembered it, Adele opened the cabinet beneath her seat and brought out the metal-plated glove. “Can you tell me what this is, please?” she said. “I found it in the trousers Daniel was wearing in the cave, stuffed into his pocket on top of the goggles.”

  Miranda took the object. The iron plating on the upper side was a quarter of an inch thick, so it was quite heavy.

  “I don’t…” Miranda started. Then, “Oh, yes—in the grotto. We’d found what must have been the body of one of the early explorers. Just then Timothy pulled up the ladder and I forgot all about it. Daniel must have stuck this glove in his pocket.”

  “I see,” said Adele. “Do you remember anything about the body?”

  Miranda made a moue. “Not really. There was no light except the glowworms, remember, and we didn’t have long. I think it was just the clothing left that the glowworms had deposited iron on.”

  Adele turned the object over. The bare underside was made of some tightly-woven synthetic.

  “The reason I wondered,” Adele said, “is that there are only three fingers. It doesn’t seem to have been a human glove.”

  “I don’t understand,” Miranda said.

  “It’s a big universe,” Adele said as she returned the glove to the drawer. “And a very old one.”

  Tovera tapped on the hatch and opened it enough to look in. “Six would like to see his wife before we lift,” she announced. “Which is going to be soon.”

  Adele got up. “I’ll walk with you to the bridge,” she said as she gestured Miranda to the hatch.

  Next stop, Peltry in the Tarbell Stars.

  CHAPTER 10

  Above Peltry

  Adele found freefall very uncomfortable when she was aware of it, but she easily slipped into an existence outside her physical body when confronted with a fresh mass of data to be processed. There was a smile—or at least contentment—at the back of her mind as she began linking Peltry’s communications networks to the Princess Cecile.

  “Cinnabar registry ship Princess Cecile to Newtown Harbor Control,” Vesey called. Newtown was Peltry’s capital and main starport. Vesey didn’t have a particular flair for communications as Cory did, but she would be polite, correct, and if necessary extremely patient with the local personnel.

  It was usually necessary to be patient with ground control once one got outside the core planets of the Cinnabar and Alliance blocs. Adele had the skill and equipment to take over most port control computers. She could give the Princess Cecile authorization to land and could block other ships from landing or lifting off.

  That would often have been easier than dealing with a numbskull on the ground—or waiting for someone to finally wake up in the control booth. It would also tell everyone with a modicum of awareness how great the Sissie’s capabilities were and how dangerous the ship was to anyone with something to hide.

  The most Adele had ever done was to set off the tornado warning sirens in the port of Sisleen on Brookshire, a sleepy Friend of Cinnabar. The sirens continued to wind until someone in Port Control responded to the alert signal on the console—which was the Sissie’s request for landing authorization. Adele felt that this would be explained as unconnected computer glitch…but since then, unless there was a specific reason for her to perform as a normal signals officer, she thought it best to leave the task others.

  Besides taking over Peltry’s networks, Adele was collecting the contents of official databases—those of the Newtown and Peltry administrations, as well as what passed for the government of the Tarbell Stars. The last was a mare’s nest—or rather, half a dozen mare’s nests which communicated badly or not at all with one another—but Adele was used to that.

  The Department of War was a well-organized exception. There was even an attempt at security. Adele’s software had be
en designed to penetrate Alliance systems. The 5th Bureau data from Grozhinski had specific keys to the Department of War files, but Cory hadn’t required them. A computer capable of guiding a starship through the Matrix could, with the right software, defeat almost any form of encryption.

  Cory was sucking in data from the Tarbell Navy. There were at least a dozen ships in the naval harbor separated by moles from the general harbor. The largest vessel was a heavy cruiser, but it appeared to be out of service.

  Adele gave the naval material only a passing glance. Cory was fully competent with the process, and his Academy background gave him advantages. She would go over his gleanings at leisure, but she didn’t expect to find anything Cory had missed.

  “Princess Cecile, this is Newtown Control,” a female voice announced. “I’ll be able to clear you to land in about five minutes. There’s a freighter scheduled to lift ahead of you, over.”

  Cazelet was searching Port Control and the logs of the sixty-odd ships in the general harbor. He had worked all his youth in his family shipping business until his parents fell foul of Guarantor Porra. Cazelet had fled to his grandmother, who had in turn sent him on to Adele Mundy on Cinnabar.

  Just as Mistress Boileau had fostered Adele on Bryce, so Adele took responsibility for Cazelet by placing him in the crew of the Princess Cecile. It had been a good bargain for the RCN, and a very good one for Adele herself. Cazelet’s different training meshed well with what Cory had received from the RCN, and the two young men even got along well.

  I’ve created a uniquely skilled staff for myself, Adele thought. Without in the least intending to. And they both feel that I’ve saved them, which is true enough but wasn’t part of a plan either.

  You could accomplish quite a lot—and do quite a lot of good—without goals. Focusing on a task and doing it well was as much as could be expected of anyone. Adele assumed that must be more difficult than it seemed to be to her.

  Adele noticed three small civilian craft—the largest was under two thousand tons—clustered around a hulk. They were in the orbit of Peltry’s outermost moon, about a million miles above the planet’s surface.

  From their electronic signatures the ships were barely functional. Adele turned the Sissie’s excellent optical sensors to the largest of the three. The imagery showed it just as decrepit as the electronics implied: one of the ship’s four antennas was a stump, and a yard was missing on two of those remaining. A rocket basket had been welded to the hull beside the stub antenna where it would have the broadest field of fire.

  She highlighted the image and checked Daniel’s display on the command console, intending to pin an icon there for him to call up when she alerted him. Daniel was already observing the strange ships, but he had focused on the hulk.

  A shaded triangle on his display alerted him that she was echoing his screen. He grinned and said, “Adele, I’m looking at pirates.”

  Adele had set the system so that her name cued a two-way link. She said, “I thought that’s what they were. But what’s the hulk?”

  When we first met, Daniel wouldn’t have noticed that I was echoing his display, she thought with mild pride. And I wouldn’t have recognized pirates.

  “They’re using a junked freighter as a water buffalo,” he said. “They probably towed it through the Matrix from wherever their base is so that they can keep a way on while they’re waiting for a target.”

  “Are we going to do something?” Adele said. It wasn’t idle curiosity—she would have a part in any action. Though I don’t suppose I would have to apologize for being curious.

  “I’d like to,” Daniel said. “But—”

  “Princess Cecile, this is Newtown Control,” said the voice. “You are cleared to land in the outer harbor. A tug will bring you to your berth. Over.”

  “But there isn’t time,” Daniel continued, “and it’s not really our business. Not yet at least. Still—can you get me a tight beam to the biggest pirate?”

  “Yes,” said Adele, “but I’d be amazed if they had functioning laser or microwave receivers. I certainly don’t see any sign of antennas on them.”

  “Then short wave will do,” Daniel said.

  Adele adjusted the hailing antenna toward the largest vessel and said, “Go ahead.”

  “Unidentified ships,” said Daniel, “this is RCS Princess Cecile. Stand by to be boarded. If you offer resistance, you will be immediately destroyed, over.”

  Daniel hadn’t alerted the Sissie’s crew to what he was doing, but the ship trembled as both gun turrets slewed to bear on the pirates. Sun had been monitoring radio traffic. In a moment he would lower the turrets and lock them for landing, but now the plasma cannon were ready to fire.

  Lights winked in a corner of Adele’s display. She knew if she checked she would learn that Chief Missileer Chazanoff was arming his weapons too. None of the pirates looked worth a missile, but Chazanoff wasn’t going to miss any chance that was offered.

  The pirates had been cruising at low thrust, just enough to maintain a semblance of gravity. There was no reply by radio, but two and then the third vessel came up to what was probably full power. As Adele watched, one vessel entered the Matrix. The other pirates followed a moment later.

  “I don’t blame the locals for not chasing them off,” Daniel said, back on the two-way link. “But they ought to be able to smash the water buffalo. Still, it’s not our business.”

  Adele was sure that Daniel did blame the Peltry forces. She understood that it was considered polite to be charitable to incompetents, but she had never been able to fathom why.

  “Princess Cecile, this is Newtown Control,” the radio voice said unexpectedly. “Is Captain Leary aboard, over?”

  Without hesitation, Vesey sent an alert to Adele’s console, passing the call to her. Adele, feeling her voice harden further with each word, said, “Ground, this is Princess Cecile. Captain Leary is aboard. What is your reason for asking, over?”

  “Princess Cecile,” said Newtown Control, “the Tarbell Stars have directed that Captain Leary and his staff report as soon as they arrive to Christopher Robin, the Minister of War. The Ministry will send an aircar to pick them up, over.”

  “Message received,” Adele said without discussing the matter with Daniel. “Princess Cecile out.”

  Instead of turning her head toward Daniel, Adele expanded his face on her display. Over the two-way link she said, “Well, it gives you plenty of time to change.”

  Daniel stretched at his console. “It would,” he said, “but I think I’ll wear these utilities, like the civilian captain I am. I’ll wear a saucer hat, though.”

  He frowned slightly and added, “You know, I think it might be just as well if you weren’t with me. Though if you want to come, of course…?”

  “I can check with the local representative of our principal during the time,” Adele said calmly. She knew that Daniel liked to keep a distance from her intelligence activities, but there was more going on here. “Is there any particular reason that you’d like me to be absent?”

  Daniel laughed; the question seemed to have restored his normal good humor. “Not really,” he said. “Well, the same reason you didn’t give a real answer to the demand. We knew we’ll be working with the Minister of War, but…”

  He frowned again and said, “There are a lot of people who can give me orders. They all wear RCN uniforms. More to the point, none of them are jumped-up quartermasters like Christopher Robin, sitting behind desks in the back of beyond.”

  Adele smiled. Lady Mundy understood Captain Leary’s reaction very clearly. Another person would have laughed out loud.

  Newtown on Peltry

  “Captain Leary?” said the man waiting on the pier in a white uniform without rank insignia. “I’m Captain Walters. I’m to escort you and your staff to the Minister of War.”

  Daniel eyed the aircar behind Walters. It would seat twelve in the benches running along the sides of the passenger compartment; there was a cab in front
for the driver.

  “Is that Army?” Hogg said, frowning. “It sure looks like it.”

  “It doesn’t have armor,” Daniel said. “Police, maybe. A paddy wagon, I shouldn’t wonder.”

  Walters was young and had a fluffy blond beard which contrasted with the flush of his skin. “His Excellency wasn’t sure how many personnel you would be bringing. I thought it best to borrow a vehicle from the Quick Response Force of the National Police. It is not a prison van.”

  “I’ve ridden paddy wagons before,” Daniel said mildly. “We can leave whenever you’re ready, Master Walters.”

  Walters looked past Hogg and Daniel and frowned. “I’m to bring your staff with you, Captain Leary,” he said.

  “That’s me,” said Hogg, sauntering past Walters toward the aircar. The female driver watched him silently. She had shut down her fans.

  “I distinctly remember His Excellency telling me there would be a woman!” Walters said.

  “Then he’s going to be disappointed,” Daniel said, walking around the aide’s other side. He had told Hogg about the summons from Minister Robin, but he probably wouldn’t have needed to. Hogg automatically got a chip on his shoulder when he had to deal with what he considered uppity foreigners—who were basically anybody who wasn’t a Cinnabar citizen.

  “Say, but if you find one,” Hogg said, “see if she’s got a friend. I don’t know anybody yet on this pisspot world.”

  “Drive to the Ministry!” Walters called to the driver as he got in behind them. He banged the door shut. The back had a cage of heavy wire. It could be covered with a tarpaulin, but at present the mesh was open to the sky.

  The driver balanced her six motors and lifted. The two beneath the stern squealed loudly at idle. Probably why she’d shut down while she waited, Daniel thought, but the sound muted once the oil was at full pressure.

  “I was expecting to call on the President as soon as I’d changed,” Daniel said truthfully to Walters. He raised his voice only slightly.