Engaging the Enemy

by Elizabeth Moon

  “Concerns?”

  “Yes. We understand that you are talking to ship captains about forming a fighting force.”

  Ky said nothing, but raised her brows.

  “These rumors about pirate fleets—I’m sure they’re exaggerated,” the stationmaster said.

  “You have contrary evidence?” Ky said.

  “Well…we’ve never seen a pirate force larger than two ships, maybe three. Our local patrol ships are more than a match for them. We haven’t had a successful pirate attack in decades.”

  “Do you think Princess Philomena’s captain is lying? He seems a very honest person to me,” Ky said.

  “Not lying,” the stationmaster said. “But he doesn’t have your background of military training. Whatever happened there, I’m sure he magnified it in his fear. Don’t you find that happens more often than not?”

  “Underestimating a threat causes as much trouble,” Ky said. “Have you looked at Captain Bisdin’s scan data?”

  “No. It’s only a civilian tradeship; the scan isn’t as detailed and accurate—”

  “I have,” Ky said. Silence. They looked at each other. “There were indeed fourteen ships involved in the attack. Five others were insystem at the time. Three of those innocent ships were destroyed while Bisdin was in scan range. Captain Bisdin made it here; he doesn’t know what happened to the fifth ship.” She looked around the table. They were all a shade paler.

  “But…but maybe that’s all they wanted, a secure base—” That was one of the men.

  The police officer turned on him. “All they wanted? Of course it’s not all they wanted. You can’t think they’ll stop—”

  “We can hope so,” the man said. “I mean, it’s too bad for Bissonet, but why would they need more than one system?”

  Ky and the police officer locked gazes a moment; Ky shook her head. “You could ask that about humans in general. But more specifically, if their goal is control of interstellar shipping—an enormously profitable business—then interdicting one system at a time, while communications are down, would be the way to go about it. With the resources from such trade, they could rule the known universe.”

  “But surely—” the man began. The stationmaster held up his hand, and the man subsided.

  “Captain Vatta, even if you’re correct and there is evidence for concerted pirate activity…these are criminals. They won’t hold together for long. There’s no need for civilians to take on unauthorized military functions—”

  “There’s every need,” Ky said. “Interstellar trade depends on secure ports of call, good communications, and minimal piracy in deep space. We are out of communication for days to weeks at a time in FTL flight, so that even when the ansible net is working, we need to know that the space we’re coming to is secure from piracy. You don’t know—none of us knows—where this pirate fleet will attack next. We don’t know how many agents they may have on various worlds, who might cooperate with them. If they pick off the busiest ports, gain control of those governments, interstellar trade will collapse—and if it does, pirates will control your supply lines. When they control your supply lines, they control you.”

  “That’s a scary scenario,” the stationmaster said. “I still think it’s unlikely. And I have concerns about civilians trying to take on military functions. It’s too dangerous, a lot of untrained civilians putting weapons on their ships and going out to hunt pirates. Stirring up trouble, it seems to me, and the perfect way to get a lot of innocent people killed. Speaking as chair of the council, I want it stopped.”

  Ky bit back the angry words she wanted to say and tried instead to gauge the reactions of the rest.

  “We have insystem patrol,” the police officer said slowly. “We haven’t had problems with pirates, and they’d find us a tough nut to crack. I admit a fleet of fourteen might stretch our resources, but I’m confident that we could handle it.”

  “If the system ansibles are still down, you’ll be limited to lightspeed ship-to-ship communications,” Ky said. “The pirates have shipboard ansibles.”

  “That’s another thing,” the stationmaster said. “You’ve told people this, but no one’s ever heard of such things. What makes you think they’re real?”

  “The ship I captured has one,” Ky said. “Complete with operating manual. Osman was a pirate, and in his data files I found evidence that he was working with—or for—a group headed by the same man Bisdin reported as the leader of the pirate fleet.”

  “It’s absurd,” one of the men said. “Ansibles are huge—massive—there’s no way to fit one on a ship. The power supply alone—”

  “Nevertheless,” Ky said. “There’s one on my ship.”

  “I don’t care,” the stationmaster said, putting both hands flat on the table. “This disruptive behavior has to stop, Captain Vatta. Even if the pirate threat is real, your course of action is not the right way to meet it. You’re panicking people on this station; we’re swamped with complaints and demands. We can strengthen our local force; we can hire mercenaries. We do not need—and will not put up with—a bunch of rogue traders trying to pretend they’re a military force. If you persist in your attempt to persuade and organize the other captains, I will insist that you leave this system—or you will be arrested.”

  “I see,” Ky said.

  “No more meetings, no more clandestine visits to your ship—”

  “Clandestine?” Ky let her voice express surprise. “There was no secrecy because there was no rule against such visits—”

  “All right…but from now on they would be clandestine. Unless you are actively trading merchandise—nonmilitary merchandise—I want you off this station in forty-eight hours. And in that forty-eight hours I want no more of your rabble-rousing, is that clear?”

  “Quite clear,” Ky said. Anger roiled her stomach. How could they be so stupid? How could they not understand the traders’ point of view, when they depended so on trade?

  “You will be accompanied by a member of the station police, to ensure that you obey these strictures.” The stationmaster glanced at the police officer, who looked less happy than before but nodded.

  The meeting ended on that note; Ky managed to keep her temper in check until she was out the door.

  The police spy—as Ky thought of him—assigned to her was a stolid young man who said very little. He followed her closely on her way back to dockside. When she turned into the Captains’ Guild entrance, though, he put a hand on her arm.

  “You’re not supposed to talk to them.”

  “I have bills to pay in here, since we’re leaving,” Ky said. “Come with me and see.”

  “If you talk to the other captains—”

  “I’m not forbidden to talk to them,” Ky said, with waning patience. “Just to talk about certain things.”

  She stopped at the desk, checked her balance, and paid it. “Any other charges, I’ll authorize payment by my bank,” she said.

  “That’s fine,” the clerk said. “You have a stack of messages—” He rummaged in the pigeonholes and pulled out a mix of data cubes and hardcopy messages.

  “I’ll take those,” the policeman said, reaching out.

  “No, you won’t,” Ky said, keeping a firm grip on them. “The stationmaster said nothing about interdicting my mail.”

  “I’ll have to ask—”

  “Ask away.” Ky put the messages into her case and locked it. The policeman looked blank: accessing his skullphone, she assumed. She decided to make her own call, and reached the stationmaster’s office assistant. “I need to speak to the stationmaster.”

  “Who is this—oh. Captain Vatta. Is there a problem?”

  “My escort tried to take my mail. I don’t believe that’s appropriate or necessary.”

  The stationmaster’s voice replaced his assistant’s. “You’re not supposed to communicate with other captains—”

  “About the topic you named, yes. You didn’t say I couldn’t pick up my mail, something other p
eople sent me.”

  “About the conspiracy…”

  “It’s not a conspiracy, and I expect the mail has more to do with trade. I had deals pending with several onstation merchants.”

  “I’d like to be sure of that.”

  “Sir.” Ky squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I am trying to comply with your request that I leave this station. That means closing accounts, finalizing pending deals, and so on. I agreed not to continue organizing a useful resistance to the pirates, but I did not agree to not doing business with my customers. Let your man do his job but let me do mine.”

  “As long as it is just business…”

  “It’s just business.”

  A dramatic sigh. Then, “Very well, Captain Vatta. I will not insist on monitoring all your incoming messages, but this does not mean you are free to continue as you were—”

  “I understand,” Ky said.

  “Good. I’ll inform the police.”

  Very shortly, the policeman turned back to Ky. “All right. They say you can keep your mail.”

  “Thank you,” Ky said. Several captains she knew had come into the reception area in the meantime, but seeing the policeman they stayed at a distance. Ky made no effort to contact them. Instead she spoke to the clerk. “Post Fair Kaleen for departure in thirty-six to forty-eight hours, please.”

  “Destination?”

  “Haven’t decided yet, but we’ve made all the profit we can here. I’ll let you know when I’ve decided.”

  “Any open cargo space?”

  “Yes, four cubic meters. Go on and post that. I’d like to travel full, if I can.”

  Back at the ship, Ky told the policeman to wait on the dockside.

  “But they said—”

  “They can monitor my communications with other ships,” Ky said. “I have no objection to that.” She did, but protesting would do no good, she knew. “My decks are foreign territory, however; you have no jurisdiction there.”

  “I’ll have to call.”

  “Go ahead.” Ky went on in, told her security detail to shut the inner hatch, and went straight to the bridge, where she placed calls to Argelos and others who had shown interest. “I’ve been asked to leave the system,” she said. “I cannot discuss it with you. I’m deciding where to go next; that will be posted at the Captains’ Guild. I do have four cubic meters of open cargo space, should anyone want to ship that amount to my destination.”

  Her implant pinged her, warning of an incoming priority call. It would be the stationmaster, she was sure. It was. “I told you—” he began.

  “I have told other captains that I’m leaving. I’m sure you monitored the transmissions—”

  “You said you were asked to leave.”

  “Yes, because I was. I told the truth.”

  “You’re trying to drum up sympathy—”

  “No, I’m not. They’d figure out that much on their own; they’re not stupid, Stationmaster. I was asked to leave; I’m leaving; I have some cargo space open if anyone has cargo going my way.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’ll decide that in the next twenty-four hours. Probably less. I’ll post it. Whatever you think, Stationmaster, I am not engaged in conspiracies.”

  “So you say,” he said, and closed the connection.

  “So…do I surmise that they’re annoyed with you for telling the truth?” Rafe asked.

  “Something like that,” Ky said. She was suddenly, ravenously hungry. “Lee, would you ask someone to bring me something from the galley?”

  “Sure, Captain.”

  “Which truth upset them?” Rafe asked.

  “They’d rather not believe the pirate fleet is a real threat. They started out wanting to believe that the Philomena’s captain just panicked and there weren’t that many pirates. I pointed out that his scan data showed pretty clearly how many there were. Then they shifted to the hope that the pirates would be satisfied with gobbling up one system. Or maybe the pirate alliance will fall apart because everybody knows pirates can’t cooperate. But it wasn’t even the reality of the pirate menace that had them so upset. It was the thought of mere civilian traders daring to work together—form an armed merchant fleet—to fight off the pirates.”

  “It is an untried theory,” Hugh said. Ky looked at him. “I’m not saying it won’t work,” he said. “Just that I can understand why it makes them nervous.”

  “Not just nervous. Hostile. I don’t see why they can’t understand that it’s more dangerous to just sit and wait around. Unless they’re all in league with the pirates—”

  “Probably not,” Rafe said. “Or the pirates would be here, and we’d be dead. I’d guess they’re just worried and don’t know what to do about it.”

  “So…how are we going to convince them?”

  Rafe shrugged. “We can’t. The pirates will, eventually.”

  “Too late, though,” Ky said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. At any rate we’ve done what we can here. At least some of the other captains are thinking about the possibility. If enough do, what the local governments think won’t matter. Of course, that’s probably what the pirates thought, too. It’s a copy of their strategy.”

  “Puts us behind, doesn’t that?”

  “Not really. Lead time is their one real advantage; they’re outnumbered—”

  “We think.” Unwillingly, Ky found herself repeating Rafe’s arguments back to him.

  “Almost certainly. I’m willing to bet that at least half their fleet—probably almost all of it—was there in Bissonet. There are hundreds of merchant ships, several dozen privateers we know about, and that’s not counting the mercenary forces.”

  “Which would be very expensive,” Rafe said. “Who could afford to hire them?”

  “Trying to do war on the cheap is what got us into this mess,” Ky said. “Cost is why we don’t have the kind of interstellar force that could control, if not wipe out, piracy. But since our governments don’t see it that way, we’ll have to convert them.” She stretched. “But the first thing to do is pick a destination. I want to go back to Slotter Key and find out what is going on there.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Rafe and Hugh said together; Martin nodded. They looked at each other, then at her.

  “I need to know why I have this letter of marque,” Ky said. “And why the government cut off our family. Who was bribed?”

  “Jealousy?” Rafe asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Ky said. “We were rich and powerful, yes, but not a threat to the government.”

  “You are now,” Rafe said. “Seriously. They turned their backs on you; your family was nearly destroyed. Now you come back, and they see vengeance in your eyes.”

  “I don’t—” Ky stopped. “I suppose…I do want revenge for what they did. If they did anything themselves. Mostly I want answers. I want to know why.”

  “With all due respect, Captain,” Martin began. Ky nodded. “Fight your war first, then ask questions. If you go back and they arrest you—or even if they just rescind the letter of marque, which I think they would—who’s going to take the fight to the pirates?”

  Rafe nodded. Ky stared at the table a long moment. “You really think I can…”

  “I don’t think anyone else can,” Rafe said. “If ISC had the capacity, the ansibles would be back up by now. And we—they—have always ignored everything but ISC property. That was partly to gain political support for maintaining the monopoly, sure, but it kept our costs in bounds. You not only saw what was needed—which a lot of people have done—but you’ve taken steps to start it.”

  “Not very effectively, so far,” Ky said.

  “Effective enough to get thrown out of a system,” Rafe said. “That’s a start. Stay away from Slotter Key until you can go there in strength.”

  “Where, then?” Ky said. She put the Traders’ Directory in the cube reader and put it up on screen. “Where will the pirates go next and where should we go?” No one said anythin
g, and after a few moments she answered her own questions. “If they can take over the backbone systems, they can interdict seventy percent of the trade…so I’d bet they won’t leapfrog more than one of those systems…maybe just hit the next in line. Let’s see…the jump-point index…” A complex graphic appeared onscreen, the tangle of lines representing mapped routes. “We don’t have the resources to guard all the backbone systems—but they don’t have the resources to attack them all, either. If we just knew where they were going next…” An idea hit her; she looked at Rafe. “Rafe, can we trace the other shipboard ansibles with ours? When they make contact, can we find out where they are?”

  He pursed his lips. “We might…but not without letting them know where we are, and that we have the equipment.”

  “Oh. That won’t work, then.”

  “It might, if we can figure out a way to fake the back-connection. Though of course they may have figured that out, too. They must know by now that Osman’s dead and you have his ship. They’d know he had a shipboard ansible. They may or may not know about the others.”

  “Not a good idea, then,” Ky said.

  “Not unless I can figure out some way to protect our end. But I’ll think about that.”

  “Back to basics,” Ky said, staring at the graphic. “What will the enemy do next, and where, and what can we do to frustrate that?”

  “If he has the resources to take more than one system at a time, I think he’d go for the big crossroads first. Cascadar. Moscoe Confederation. Blunt. Allray. Parry’s World. All first-tier, all with multiple routes converging.”

  “Let’s be extravagant and assume he has a hundred ships,” Hugh said. “More than we think, but I’d rather overestimate him than underestimate him. Twenty ships per system…that’s five. He needs to keep some at Bissonet. He might hit four…”

  “What about ISC headquarters?” Ky said. “Nexus Two, isn’t it?”

  “They wouldn’t—oh.” Rafe looked blank for a moment. “I suppose they might try. Nexus Two is really our trade center, and we—they—do have a very good insystem defense capability.”

  “So did Bissonet,” Ky said. “And the prize is much bigger if they could get control of the ansible system at its source. They’ve already shown negative control—they can make it unusable—but if they can turn it back on, there’ll be those who think it doesn’t matter who controls it as long as they keep it working. ISC’s lost a lot of respect in these past few months.”