‘My career?’ Wyllym said, struggling to sit up. ‘You’re buying.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Augustus said. A medical officer rushed in and began switching off the machines. ‘You’ve been summoned by Admiral Hedricks.’
‘Unless he’s giving me a medal, I think I’ll pass – hey!’
The medic worked with reckless urgency, ripping out cords as though the flight deck was on fire.
Augustus had a grave look on his face.
‘Wyll,’ he said. ‘This is serious.’
‘Bugger serious,’ Wyllym protested. ‘I’m retired. My paperwork is in, I’m done.’
‘The Navy isn’t through with you yet,’ Augustus said, stepping aside as another technician hurried in and began wheeling machines out. ‘But I’m sure Hedricks will make a point of thanking you for your service at the briefing.’
‘Thank me, right,’ Wyllym grumbled, as the medic treated the punctures in his limbs and torso. ‘You mean the way these snotty cadets did?’
‘What did you expect?’ Augustus snapped, tossing Wyllym’s uniform at him. ‘They never want to see you again. Now get dressed.’
The medic left, closing the door behind him.
‘What’s your problem, Ty?’ Wyllym fumed.
‘It’s our problem, and it’s a big one,’ Augustus said. ‘There are two soldiers right outside that door with orders to physically haul your ass out if you’re not up in three minutes.’
Wyllym snapped.
‘What the fuck—?’
‘It’s not just us,’ Augustus muttered, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. ‘All of CENTCOM will be there.’
The effort of becoming angry was taxing. Wyllym wasn’t ready to go anywhere – the recovery therapy had barely been through its first cycle when the medic had switched the system off. Slowly, he managed to swing his legs over the side.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘You’ll find out at the briefing.’
‘Well, who’s giving it?’
‘Me. The security part anyway. You’d better be ready to answer some questions yourself, Wyll.’
With considerable effort, Wyllym put his hands up.
‘Alright, enough,’ he grumbled. ‘You tell me just what’s going on, or I’m not going anywhere.’
Augustus looked over his shoulder again.
‘Jake found something,’ he said.
‘I’m glad he’s still alive,’ Wyllym said. ‘What’d he find out?’
‘That I was right to put him in harm’s way,’ Augustus said. ‘On your feet, pilot. We’re going to the Archangel.’
No matter how many times Wyllym saw it, the Archangel always left him speechless. The mothership defied all the engineering precepts that shaped how a conventional starship should appear. The strange, gaping hole that the hull was built around was complete; the construction equipment was absent, and the inner walls were rotating slowly along the circumference.
On approach, the shuttle oriented itself with the one of the Archangel’s hangar bays ‘right side up’, just like at Corinth. But the moment the ship broke the hangar plane, Wyllym felt himself pulled toward the deck. There was no transit to the inner wall of a rotational, centrifugally oriented structure. Somehow, despite the lack of rotation, gravity was omnipresent on the Archangel.
Once they were inside, Wyllym refused a gurney. But he did need Augustus’s shoulder as he struggled to reach the briefing room. They drew stares and salutes from other crew as they marched through a labyrinth of hexagon-shaped hallways. They finally arrived at a dark, circular conference room with most of CENTCOM already present. Wyllym recognised some of the faces: Rear Admiral Jang Lao, the Hera OPCOM (Operations Commander); Rear Admiral Kenneth Dyson, the Zeus OPCOM; Vice Admiral Kristjan Larksson, the Belt OPCOM; and at least a dozen more Navy officials.
At the centre of them all was him.
For all his political and military influence, Admiral Vadim Hedricks was a larger-than-life figure who was surprisingly underwhelming in person.
The man was bone thin; his hands, criss-crossed with unsightly veins, seemed too large for the wrists that bore them. The skin was pulled tightly over his face, stretching over an oversized chin with nary a trace of beard. His lips were narrow and pursed. Thick black hair, combed precisely to one side, was cropped above ungainly ears pressed close to his scalp. His deep blue eyes always seemed to follow you, even when he looked elsewhere; or to stare through you, when you were the target of his gaze. And whether delivering humour or scorn, his expression rarely changed; impassive, though quietly judging, and always plotting.
Wyllym was always repulsed by the sight of him.
Admiral Hedricks registered their presence.
‘Let us begin,’ he announced, his high-pitched voice quieting the room. ‘Commander Tyrell, the floor is yours.’
Augustus helped Wyllym into a seat, then strolled to the centre of the room.
‘Gentlemen, we’ve received word that Vladric Mors is about to launch a direct assault on the Archangel,’ he announced, as the display changed to an overview of Ceti military strength. ‘This intel coalesces numerous observations of Ceti activity reported by sources at lower infiltration tiers. All current indicators have reached the maximum confidence level. This is going to happen. The Ceti fleet has undergone a massive refitting effort to incorporate new technology, the precise nature of which is unknown. Admiral Larksson?’
Instead of rising, the elder officer spoke from his seat.
‘Ceti runs three hundred corvettes, give or take,’ he said. Wyllym thought he was trying to suppress a yawn. ‘They own two frigates, both scrapworthy by Navy standards, and one cruiser in dry dock, which is incapable of flight. Their crews are competent at striking lightly defended targets but utterly incapable of prosecuting full-scale assaults against fortified assets. And yet Vladric Mors is planning exactly that. His objective is to take the Archangel intact.’
‘You must be joking,’ remarked Admiral Dyson.
‘He’s mobilised his mechanised infantry, which isn’t even divisional strength,’ Augustus commented. ‘Has them drilling breach ’n raids around the clock.’
‘Let’s play devil’s advocate,’ Admiral Jao said. ‘What about Brotherhood? He pulled that off with fewer assets.’
‘He also had the element of surprise,’ Admiral Larksson responded. ‘And in terms of defences, this is no comparison.’
‘People in his own camp are calling it suicide,’ Augustus told them. ‘There is rampant dissent among his fleet captains. He’s made examples of the more vocal ones to keep everyone else in line.’
‘What’s his motive?’ Admiral Lao asked. ‘Is there one, besides insanity?’
‘He considers the Archangel a mortal threat to “freedom” in the Outer Rim,’ Augustus said. ‘He wants to pre-empt us before we can bring the fight to him. Should he fail to capture the ship, he plans to destroy it.’
‘If the bastard wants to die in a blaze of glory,’ snorted Admiral Lao, ‘I’d love to oblige him.’
Admiral Hedricks remained as impassive as ever.
‘Any idea when they sail?’ asked Admiral Dyson.
‘Their scouts have already left, with the main fleet deploying in a week’s time,’ Admiral Larksson replied. ‘Unless they plan on seizing our fuel outposts, their journey is a one-way trip needing the better part of a month to complete. If they bring tankers, it will take even longer. Now, we all know Ceti corvettes are stealthy, so the possibility they’ll evade our sensor nets is real. But eventually they’ll have to insert themselves into orbit and burn down to attack speed, which means we’ll almost certainly detect them as they emerge from the Belt.’
‘“Almost” certainly?’ asked Admiral Lao.
‘The odds of missing a heat signature that large are minuscule,’ Admiral Larksson said. ‘I like our chances.’
‘And this new technology?’ Admiral Dyson asked. ‘Do we know anyt
hing specific?’
‘Nothing that we can verify,’ Augustus said. ‘We know their ships have been augmented by an auxiliary power source, either by giving up cargo space or adding an entire section to the hull. We suspect – and this is only theory – that it might be new shield technology.’
‘What other parts of this briefing are theory?’ Admiral Dyson asked. ‘You sound like you don’t trust your sources.’
Wyllym tensed up. Dyson and Augustus never got along.
‘When multiple sources corroborate data, it’s considered verified,’ Augustus growled.
‘Do your sources include this traitorous agent I’ve heard so much about?’ Admiral Dyson asked, pressing the issue. ‘We must give the man a medal before executing him.’
Admiral Hedricks came out of his thoughtful introspection.
‘How we acquired this information is of no concern or consequence,’ he said, turning his cold gaze on Wyllym. ‘We have a crisis to manage. Don’t we, Captain?’
Wyllym knew they could all see his discomfort.
‘Yes, sir,’ he managed.
‘And what does our Gifted Gryphon instructor have to say about that?’
As far as Wyllym was concerned, there was no reason to mince words. Retirement was retirement.
‘I think it’s tragic,’ he said.
Admiral Hedricks raised an eyebrow.
‘For Ceti?’
‘For those who want no part in this conflict,’ he said. ‘That includes Navy personnel, Orionis citizens, privateers, and everyone outside this room with the exception of Vladric Mors.’
Wyllym was surprised with himself. But these men surrounding him knew nothing of combat. They were politicians, not warriors.
‘You think there’s a serious threat, then?’ Admiral Dyson said.
‘Vladric is dangerous,’ Wyllym said. ‘Not because of his fleet, but for what he represents.’
Augustus cleared his throat.
‘Then what do you propose, Captain?’ Admiral Hedricks asked politely.
‘Petition them for peace,’ Wyllym said.
A few laughs broke out. Even Admiral Hedricks seemed amused.
‘A murderer points a gun at you, and your first response is to ask for peace?’ he said.
‘It’s not too late.’
‘For whom?’
Wyllym winced as he tried leaning forward.
‘If it’s true he can only field three hundred ships, this won’t even be a contest,’ Wyllym said. ‘No matter what technology they have.’
‘And this upsets you because …?’
‘I don’t know what annihilating them accomplishes, beyond convincing the privateers that Ceti was right to strike first,’ Wyllym said. ‘We’re conquerors to them, not liberators.’
‘Fascinating,’ Admiral Hedricks remarked, raising a hand to his chin. ‘Please, continue.’
Augustus moved his head just slightly, using his eyes to warn Wyllym not to venture further.
Wyllym understood.
‘I’ve said my piece.’
‘No, you haven’t,’ Admiral Hedricks said. ‘Please elaborate, Captain.’
The damage was done. So Wyllym spoke from the heart.
‘If you massacre their fleet, you galvanise their cause,’ he said. ‘Our government is despised in the Outer Rim. And many people depend on Ceti for their livelihoods. There are far more of them than firstborns in Orionis. If you martyr Vladric Mors, someone else will take his place.’
Admiral Hedricks actually cracked a smile.
‘We’re not afraid of ghosts, are we, gentlemen?’
‘His opinion is easily explained,’ Admiral Dyson remarked. He’s in so much pain it’s clouding his thinking.’
‘Look at him,’ Admiral Hedricks said. ‘Hmm, pass on a chance to eliminate Ceti…that’s difficult to accept. But I can see the prospect troubles you.’
‘It makes no difference to me,’ Wyllym said.
‘No?’
‘I’m retired, sir.’
‘I saw your application,’ Admiral Hedricks said. ‘And I regret to inform you that it is denied.’
Wyllym tried to look unmoved. But the disappointment was bitter.
‘The Navy cannot be without the most able pilot of its most effective weapon during the greatest threat of modern times,’ Admiral Hedricks said, turning to address the rest of the group. ‘However, I concur with the Captain’s assessment on the political consequences of dealing with Ceti too decisively. Much as I would love to fly the Archangel straight to Brotherhood, we will let them come to us, and crush them in plain sight of the entire Inner Rim. Captain Lyons will lead the Gryphons in their first operational mission, and what better cause than in defence of Orionis?’
Admiral Larksson appeared concerned.
‘Where is the intercept?’ he asked.
‘Let them in as close as the orbit of Eris,’ Admiral Hedricks. ‘No closer. Now let me be perfectly clear with all of you: Chancellor Jade is not to be informed. I will take full responsibility for the alleged breach in our sensor nets. But once Ceti ships are within striking distance, Captain Lyons and his Gryphons will make quick work of their fleet, leaving a few for some of the Archangel’s own weapons.’
Wyllym couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘Don’t look so distraught, Captain,’ Admiral Hedricks said, rising from his seat. The meeting was over. ‘There will be plenty of time to enjoy retirement. I know you’ll perform admirably. The rest of you, mission planning begins in one hour. Dismissed.’
The Navy elite began leaving the room. Augustus was cornered by Admiral Dyson and Admiral Lao; Wyllym remained seated, staring at the table.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Admiral Larksson.
‘Old soldiers ought to know the perils of speaking our mind,’ the officer said. Nearly two hundred years of age, he remained a kind man, with none of the arrogance of his peers.
‘I guess the years have made me stubborn,’ Wyllym said. ‘Sir.’
‘You could have walked away long ago,’ the Admiral said. ‘No one would have blamed you. But I don’t believe for a moment you’d turn your back on this.’
The admiral patted him on the back, lowering his voice.
‘Orionis needs men like you more than it will ever need a Grand Admiral,’ he said. ‘And he knows it. Be careful, son.’
Augustus didn’t speak to Wyllym until they reached Corinth. The recovery ward was empty now, as the celebration had moved elsewhere. Beyond the few drones making their way through the halls, the place was deserted. It was there that Augustus finally exploded.
‘You really are a dumb bastard sometimes,’ he growled, pushing Wyllym’s gurney through the hall so fast he thought he might fall off. ‘What the hell was that back there?’
‘Ty, I don’t want to argue,’ Wyllym muttered.
‘You told CENTCOM you’re a Ceti sympathiser!’ Augustus fumed. ‘Unbelievable!’
‘You said Mors has dissent in his ranks,’ Wyllym said. ‘If Hedricks was smart, he’d appeal to them directly. I bet half of them would defect.’
‘Wyll, you do not pass on a chance to kill the Butcher of Brotherhood,’ Augustus growled, rounding a corner so fast he nearly ran over a medic. ‘We can end years of bloodshed right now.’
‘The bloodshed is our own choice,’ Wyllym croaked. ‘Instead of rising above Vladric Mors, we’re playing right into his hands.’
‘Please, Wyll, you’re not that naïve. You can’t be.’
‘Ceti is bigger than one man. It’s a verdict on how this government failed, and it will live on after Mors is dead. We can have real peace, without killing anyone. We’re just too proud to negotiate it.’
Augustus spun the gurney around and heaved it into Wyllym’s private ward. It struck the wall lightly, but with enough force to make Wyllym see stars.
‘You know how personal this is for me,’ Augustus growled.
Wyllym sighed. ‘This is bigger than your problems too,
’ Wyllym retorted. ‘Orionis made Vladric Mors. He’s more dangerous to it dead than alive. Even Hedricks understands that.’
Augustus took a deep breath, searching for calm.
‘This is the reason Jake tortured those agents,’ Augustus said. ‘Wyll, these bastards killed my daughter!’
‘I know,’ Wyllym said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Then why are you defending them?’ Augustus demanded.
‘How many more people need to die to bring you peace?’ Wyllym asked quietly.
Augustus looked incredulous.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘You trained Jake,’ Wyllym said. ‘He knew that killing those officers would cost him his freedom, if not his life. He sacrificed himself to bring us this news. But no one is above the law. Not even him. And the awful truth is you won’t hold yourself to the same standard.’
‘Oh, give me a fucking break, Wyll – ’
‘Danna’s killers were never found,’ Wyllym continued. ‘But you’d take the head off Vladric Mors, without ever knowing if he gave the order, instead of making him face justice. You’d start a war for your personal vengeance. I’m sorry, Ty. That is selfish.’
Augustus took a menacing step towards him.
‘Fuck. You.’
Wyllym shook his head.
‘If you want to honour her, Jake’s sacrifice, and the men who died, then learn to see Orionis through the eyes of someone who wasn’t born in the Inner Rim.’
‘I do see it from …’ Augustus roared, then cut himself short, furious. ‘I think you’re so fed up with being treated like a second-rate citizen around here that you finally snapped.’
‘I’ve been trained to fight an alien species,’ Wyllym said, closing his eyes. ‘There are no ghosts in my world, Ty. Only humans, and everything else.’
Augustus regarded him for a moment, then stepped back and waved in a medic.
‘CENTCOM wants you in a sim with the new grads for practice runs against a Ceti fleet,’ he said, as the medic began reattaching the machines that would help Wyllym heal.
‘That isn’t necessary.’
‘No, not for someone who’s clairvoyant,’ Augustus said. ‘But they haven’t made the connection.’
The two friends exchanged a weary smile.
The Tabit Genesis Page 19
