“I have a request of you, Senior Pilot Officer,” Admiral Merriweather said.
“If we can, we will.”
“You have a number of Fleet Marines that you detained aboard your vessel. I would like you, as a gesture of good faith, to release them. If you agree, Lieutenant Yardley would pilot the shuttle.”
Steve perked up when he heard his name. Then the words impinged on his consciousness and he grimaced inwardly.
“The lieutenant would be given a list of the detainees and expected to return with them.”
“We wondered when you’d get around to them. Certainly. None of them have been injured. We only interrogated only one and just about your FTL communications protocols. He wasn’t even aware he was being interrogated, so should be held blameless.”
“That is no problem, Senior Pilot Officer Makaa. When could we pick up the detainees? Now is good for us,” Admiral Merriweather told them.
The woman laughed. “That is equally good for us. Marines are surprisingly hard on the consumables budget.”
“If you don’t mind, the lieutenant will wear a video and audio link,” Admiral Merriweather informed them.
Pilot Officer Makaa nodded. “We stipulate in advance our approval of your reasonable precautions.”
“Lieutenant Yardley, you have my confidence,” the admiral told Steve. “From this point forward, you may talk to the Union representatives as you will, whenever and wherever you will.”
Sure, Steve thought to himself. You send me into a den of telepaths and you say I’m free to talk. Is that before or after they wring my mind dry?
Soon, Steve wore a lanyard around his neck that represented his communication link along with an earpiece in his ear. Neither the admiral or Commander Booth came to see him off -- only Ensign Rosen and one of the techs.
Senior Pilot Officer Makaa joined him and they undocked from the boarding tube and set off. Pilot Officer Makaa sighed about the time they were a few hundred meters away from the pinnace.
She laughed abruptly. Steve turned to look at her but didn’t say anything. “No, we’re not ogres or monsters and your mind isn’t going to be ‘wrung dry.’ Faith, you might not believe it, but telepaths are honorable people and we don’t go poking around in places we don’t belong. Your mind, when it approaches a personal and private spot, makes it very clear -- a telepath shies away.”
Steve imagined the pilot officer without her clothes.
She laughed. “It doesn’t work when you have naughty thoughts about the telepath. Is your comm link working?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Steve replied.
“Is Colonel Grimes on the link?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Please get him.”
A voice in his head said, “Wait one.”
And then the voice said, “He can hear and speak to you.”
“Colonel Grimes, we asked you originally to withhold one bit of information from the Federation: our astrography. In the kerfuffle with the first ship we contacted, you agreed to withhold something else, as we thought that that information would be misconstrued. We, as in both parties. The astrography is to remain embargoed, but we need to get the second out in the open. I’ll show Lieutenant Yardley.”
She turned to Steve and at once an image formed in Steve’s mind of Senior Pilot Officer Makaa undressed.
“Not all of our telepaths can do this, but some of us can project images and thoughts to others.” The image vanished, and a view of a tree-lined street appeared in Steve’s mind. Trees with a myriad of fireflies.
“Tell them that you have had a demonstration. I leave it to your sense of honor what you report.”
What had he heard someplace? Everything is a test?
“Senior Pilot Officer Makaa demonstrated her projective telepathic powers,” Steve reported.
A new voice sounded in his ear; it was Commander Booth. “There are some obvious questions.”
Steve turned to the pilot officer but before he could say anything she grinned. “Why now? Why not now? I just caused my captain apoplexy. I’ll explain it, but I only want to do it once.”
The shuttle swept up to a landing bay and came to rest. Air was pumped in, and the two of them exited the shuttle. There was an irate captain waiting for them there.
“Not only do you go about rocking the boat, but the other telepaths tell me not to worry, all will be explained. Not, mind you, that they are explaining anything,” Captain Moore said, nearly spitting in anger.
“I told Lieutenant Yardley that I only want to explain once. Tell me, Lieutenant, are your seniors listening?”
“Ayfirm,” Admiral Merriweather’s voice came over the link.
“Captain Moore, the technical term for Lieutenant Yardley is ‘shill.’ The lieutenant enlisted in the Fleet less than a week ago, was immediately assigned to the effort to learn about us. He has the most minimal knowledge of the Fleet.
“Such a thing is only reasonable prudence. I wish you were a telepath, Captain, because Lieutenant Yardley is another kind of shill. His mind is different than any other we’ve met in the Federation to date. Different from the Marines we’ve detained and the refugees from Grayhome. I’m positive, in fact, that if he was given a shot of you-know-what, he’d be telepathic too.”
“And you tell this in front of representatives of the Federation, knowing they are in FTL contact with Earth?”
“Sir, there is a quote from Lieutenant Yardley’s heritage, one that our ancestors preserved. ‘We must all hang together or we will most assuredly hang separately.’ The only way this will work is if we bury centuries of mistrust.
“We check our young people for the right genes and supply you-know-what after puberty. Evidently we have been making a mistake, as Lieutenant Yardley’s IQ is off the chart and in the stratosphere someplace -- and he has the right genes.”
The Koopianer captain stared at Senior Pilot Officer Makaa for quite a while.
Finally Makaa was the one who broke the silence. “We, the Union telepaths, have taken a vote and they have authorized me to reveal another secret. The mesh you and others wear has never worked. The Federation scramblers do work.
“That means, Captain, that every last one of us is aware of your political bent, and I do mean that literally. You are here to make sure the order is passed to your party’s agents to terminate the left-behinds. We are aware that you intend to order the destruction of the habitat that houses more than three thousand of your fellow citizens.
“In a word, no -- we won’t have it.”
Steve saw six men appear and surround the captain.
Makaa curled her lip. “Yes, we’ve engaged in subterfuge. Telepaths have known the intentions of your party since it was first organized and have moved to block your plans which, I might add, including eliminating not only telepaths, but anyone who opposed you. You wanted slaves, Captain, not peers. The nice thing about being a telepath is you know exactly who you can trust.”
She turned to Steve. “In a minute your Marines will be here. You are quite capable of the return flight, Lieutenant. We will be back in just a bit, after we do a bit of reorganization.”
A group of thirty Marines were brought forth, and the senior, a second lieutenant, saluted Steve. “I am ever so glad to see someone in that color of shipsuit, sir.”
The Marines rapidly filed aboard the shuttle and Steve took the left-hand seat. He hadn’t had any contact with the Thebes pinnace and suspected he wouldn’t until they were aboard.
“You sure are a sight for sore eyes, Lieutenant.”
Steve laughed bitterly. “I am a shill, sir. A sacrificial goat that couldn’t reveal anything to the Koopianers. Please, until we board Thebes’ pinnace, the Koopianers can read our every thought.”
The man nodded, his eyes glittering. “I understand, Lieutenant.”
Steve was met by Admiral Merriweather and Commander Booth in the pax lock of the pinnace.
He reported to the admiral, a little unnerved by her s
ilent regard. With no warning, Admiral Merriweather slapped him so hard his ears rung.
“You are ignorant of the Fleet, Yardley. You were not there as a sacrificial goat. Yes, we knew they would read your mind. Officers of the Fleet, mister, do not lie. We do not send juniors anyplace, anyplace at all, where their seniors fear to tread. Yes, at the outset we thought that you were the ideal person to have your mind read. Can you blame us? The Union ship knew we have lasers that they can’t defend against aimed at them. They were told that if anything happened to you, their ship would be turned to very hot plasma fifteen milliseconds later.
“Makaa knew that, their captain knew that and we thought you understood that we don’t abandon our own.
“This is your one screw-up permitted in the Fleet. We didn’t tell you about our preparations against treachery for obvious reasons.”
The admiral turned to the Marine lieutenant. “I’m sorry, but you are all quarantined until further notice. Your men will have to hot bunk because of the limited cubic.” She gestured at a Marine sergeant. “Staff Sergeant Richards will show you where to bunk.”
She whirled and left.
Commander Booth was brisk. “Yardley, we’ve already sent a request to the Federation to go over your genome with a fine-tooth comb. Perhaps figuring out what genes are involved will lead to a clue about what ‘you-know-what’ is.”
Steve laughed. “Just before I docked on the return trip, Makaa sent a mental image of a billboard to me. It was very long billboard and it took me a few seconds to scan to the right. Five milligrams of a mixture of twenty-one parts acetylcholine and one part black widow venom administered weekly. The first two words, though, were three meters high and ten meters long and were ‘plausible deniability.’”
“Admiral Merriweather boxed your ears,” she waved around the now-empty pax lock. “You only appear dim. I can see how it looked from your perspective, Lieutenant.
“However, the news that you might be telepathic is now one of the highest security classifications in the Federation. Right now the people who are aware have at least four stars and Kevin Drummlin, the President of the Federation Council. Obviously, the matter is known to the Union representatives. Colonel Grimes was not present for all of your mission; there is no way to tell if the Union people will tell him.
“You may not tell anyone about this except in a meeting where Admiral Merriweather, myself, or someone with at least four stars authorizes it.
“On a personal note, and I regret having to tell you this, but I see no way you can avoid being a guinea pig. At least until we know for sure. At least you will be spared the search for ‘you-know-what.’
“One last thing. No doubt you think you’ve been ill-treated. If you are as smart as they say, you can think about what has happened. The truth, Lieutenant, is obvious to me. It should be readily apparent to you as well. Here’s a hint: think about you would have done in Admiral Merriweather’s place.
“You are dismissed, Lieutenant. I expect you to at least nap a bit. Stress is a very insidious ailment and sneaks up on you.”
Steve nodded and retraced his steps to his berth on the pinnace, the one he shared with Ensign Rosen.
She took one look at him and said seriously, “Who hit you?”
It had never dawned on Steve that Emily hadn’t known. “I found out what a purple rocket is,” he told her, touching his cheek lightly.
“It’s supposed to metaphorical,” she replied, still outraged. “What did you do?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it,” he told her.
For a second she looked at him, and then she let out a soft gasp. “Oh, Steve!”
“I can’t talk about it, Emily.”
His phone beeped and he answered it. He listened and then said, “Aye aye, sir.” He looked at Emily and shrugged, “They want us in the admiral’s office for a briefing. Forthwith, Commander Booth said.”
“We will talk about this later,” Emily said darkly.
They started towards the bridge. “It was me who was wrong, Emily. Let it go.”
They arrived in the small conference room, with just Commander Booth and Colonel Grimes.
“Sit!” the commander said.
They sat.
“I am going to brief Colonel Grimes and Ensign Rosen about Lieutenant Yardley’s excursion a while ago. You, Colonel Grimes, were aware of a small detail.
“Admiral Merriweather has retired for the day, but she authorized me to speak for her in this matter. Lieutenant Yardley, you will receive an official letter of commendation signed by the admiral and myself for the manner in which you conducted yourself on the recent mission. You went into an unknowable situation and acquitted yourself well. You did more than your duty.”
“I thank the admiral, Commander,” Steve said, unsure of his voice.
“Yes, let me get on with the briefing. You are not to speak unless I say you can, Lieutenant, and then limit yourself to responding directly to a question.”
“And someplace in here is an explanation of why Senior Pilot Officer Makaa is ‘too busy’ to communicate?” Colonel Grimes asked.
“There were several incidents similar in nature during the opening days of the war. The crew has replaced their ship’s captain on a variety of malfeasance charges.”
“She seemed competent enough,” mused the colonel.
“Malfeasance, not misfeasance.
“Colonel Grimes, you were asked not to tell us that some of their telepaths were projective telepaths. This has caused a great deal of concern at the highest levels of the Federation and Fleet. The manner that the AIs controlled people was they used the person’s own ‘voice’ to talk to them, instead of a unique voice that it usually communicated with people.”
Colonel Grimes swallowed. “It seemed benign enough to me. I was shown pretty pictures. What did you see, Lieutenant?”
“Pretty pictures,” Steve gargled.
“Of what?” Emily asked.
A voice was yammering in Steve’s head, “Answer directly!” it clamored.
“Firefly trees,” Steve replied.
“Continuing on, we saw no evidence of directed behavior on the part of Lieutenant Yardley. Senior Pilot Officer Makaa did reveal that their politicians were misled -- the ‘tin foil hats’ never worked, and they have been able to read the minds of their politicos unhindered. Evidently they had cause: their former leadership planned on ‘terminating with extreme prejudice’ their existing agents-in-place inside the Federation. The telepaths objected.”
“Why did Admiral Merriweather give Lieutenant Yardley a purple rocket?” Emily asked.
Steve felt that a nice compromise as to a description of what happened.
“Admiral Merriweather was fatigued and suffering from stress. I offered to apologize for her if she would return to her quarters, take a nap and then get some milk and cookies when she got up.”
An admiral being told by a commander to take a time out? A nap? Milk and cookies?
“Milk and cookies, Commander?” Emily asked for everyone.
“David Zinder was the closest person to a friend I ever had. He recommended milk and cookies after a sim,” the commander told them. “The son of a bitch got himself killed at New Cairo and left me alone.” There was only bitterness in her voice.
Commander Booth shook her head. “Strike that last sentence from the record. Admiral Merriweather is resting in her stateroom.”
She nodded at Steve. “Admiral Merriweather’s order remains in effect. Lieutenant Yardley is free to talk to the Koopianers or their representatives as he wills. That means you, Colonel.”
“And the Marines are all safe?” the colonel asked.
“They are as safe as we are, and they are all present and accounted for,” Commander Booth reported. “Senior Pilot Officer Makaa will join us after their reorganization is complete.”
Colonel Grimes spoke up. “How was the detention of the captain accomplished? Was there any violence, Lieutenant?”
“Is there anything else?” Commander Booth asked.
There were headshakes and “No, sirs,” from the others.
“Ensign, you are dismissed. Colonel Grimes, give Lieutenant Yardley a moment, if you please.” The others left and Steve watched the commander intently.
“I told you that there was nothing I could do for you. There are two ‘specialists’ on their way -- they’ll be here in two days. I pity the woman who specializes in black widows -- she was involuntarily enlisted when she initially refused the request. There is a medical doctor who was more reasonable. They will start with Makaa’s formula.”
She hesitated, and then pressed on. “You understand that you will have to undergo a short fan transition. One particular spot in the Cold Dark is pretty much like another.”
“And what happens if what I was told is true?”
“You will be a guinea pig. At least you can be relied on to tell us if the methods we use interfere with telepathy.”
“You don’t trust me to tell the truth,” Steve said, stating the hidden text.
“At some point, we will learn the truth. You will be judged accordingly.”
“I think I deserve another hundred purple rockets. You aren’t filling me with confidence in your intentions.”
“Please, Lieutenant Yardley. Your most significant failing is not being able to imagine another point of view. It is a common trait among dirty-feet. You need to rid yourself of it at the earliest possible moment.”
Chapter 9 -- Impressed
Doctor Jan Kemp looked up as the door to the lab opened. She mentally braced for anything... but she wasn’t prepared for the trio that came through the door.
Two men in suits entered first, the assistant dean of the biology department holding the door for them. So, there were those that that sanctimonious pipsqueak couldn’t cow! In her nearly fifty years, she had met a lot of pipsqueaks!
The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7) Page 16
