Again she waved at someone, this time Steve. “Lieutenant Yardley was given permission to delay before reporting to the Academy, seeking out the killer of Miss Ruiz’s mother. He was successful, shuttled to Maunalua and boarded a yard bus to bring him to the Headquarters.
“You all know Lieutenant Yardley is a telepath, in fact, his range is longer than all but a few of the Union telepaths. He passed less than a kilometer from the prison where Commander Nishnamurti was housed. Lieutenant Yardley reported to Admiral Fletcher what he had observed.
“There is no pleasant way to say this. She was entertaining herself by imagining how much money she was going to get when she returned to Campbell’s. There, the Campbell’s patrol has been reconstituted under the direction of Richard Merriweather. She was a deep-cover agent assigned to assassinate Admiral Merriweather the first time Thebes went into battle.”
Steve noted that Admiral Merriweather had turned choleric red at the first mention of her father. The last few sentences changed that color to pale white and left her shaking with fury, the cords on her neck starkly outlined.
Steve spoke up, “Telepaths are your friends, Admiral.”
Admiral Cloud spoke smoothly, “No one thinks that you are in any way involved in this, Admiral.”
Admiral Merriweather took a second to drink some from her ice tea. She visibly composed herself. “What is the plan to hang the bastard?”
“It is assumed that Merriweather will have several layers of cutouts. As the Union reps told us that telepathic evidence is treated as hearsay, but sufficient for a warrant, we are proceeding cautiously. We will want all criminal charges to stick.
“We have Federation warrants to use wiretaps and other technical means to investigate this. The plan is to find Lieutenant Yardley a place where he can watch the comings and goings of the plotters and gather intelligence. Watch those comings and goings from a distance of a half to three-quarters of a kilometer.
“The plan is to gather the location of the records, the identities of the participants and then arrest them all at once. We’ve been given the Second Marine Division to accomplish this.
“We are going to go at this with maximum force. Thebes, of course, with a full two thousand fighters, a half dozen cruisers, and six assault transports.”
“How are you going to sneak that many ships into the system without raising red flags? My father is completely paranoid,” Donna Merriweather observed.
“The same tactics used on alien targets. Recently, Mad Hatter traveled hard docked to Tiger. They had no trouble with going to High Fan and, with her fans, dragging Tiger along. Mad Hatter has a number of unique engineering modifications. One of those is the ability to sync their fans with a ship in company in just a few seconds. We’ve been installing this in our own ships. The thing about synced fans is that only one fan source appears on instruments.
“The plan is to run both sets of fans up close to Campbell’s, then switch off one set -- in this case Thebes’ fans. They will drop into the outer system and remain under total emissions control. Other ships would be conveyed similarly. And when Lieutenant Yardley has done his work, then the ships will all converge on Campbell’s.
“California Base has been inventorying all traffic in the system, particularly close to Campbell’s. We have been analyzing the data back here in my shop. Closer to the final day, we’ll take another look at some of the suspicious objects. We think there are a half dozen Blue platforms covering California; we want to make sure they aren’t some civilians -- but in the final analysis, anything suspicious is going to be taken out by Blues.
“There are number of other details. I’m sorry, but they are methods and assets. I’ve said enough.”
“Excellent brief, Admiral Cloud,” Admiral Fletcher told the assembled officials.
“There is a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, young man,” President Drummlin told Steve.
“Mr. President, let me be the first to say it. I have every confidence in Lieutenant Yardley,” Admiral Merriweather said.
“Double that for me,” Admiral Fletcher said. “And when the lieutenant gets done with this, I’ve made Admiral Cloud promise that he comes to me for a time.”
Admiral Cloud chuckled. “And I made Ernie promise that after that, the lieutenant gets his choice of duty.”
The President of the Federation spoke to Admiral Merriweather. “I realize that this is a potential embarrassment to you, and that some will accuse you of acting in concert with your father. Poppycock!
“I wish we had another carrier we could send, but the five new ones at Fleet World left last week for Adobe. I want you, Admiral Merriweather, and you Lieutenant Yardley, to know that you will have the option to let this go, particularly if there is a risk of mass civilian casualties. Just pull back and leave things as they were, although we hope you can get back with the intelligence you gather.”
“Yes, sir,” Steve said with alacrity.
Donna Merriweather looked down at her hands before looking back at the president. “I can do that, Mr. President.” Her voice was softer than Steve had ever heard it before.
Not so long later, Steve was in Commander Booth’s office. “Ordinarily, I’d give you a purple rocket for not briefing me ahead of time. I want you to know that I understand, and Admiral Merriweather does as well.”
“She was informed earlier, Commander.”
“I assume you didn’t decide that on your own.”
“I requested her presence at the first briefing; Admiral Fletcher concurred.”
“I remember your first day, Steve. You have come right along.”
“No one asked me what my choices were, except when the choices were obvious.”
“Well, I at least would have listened. Now please, go into your office and buzz the yeoman for your first interview.”
“I have an office?” Steve asked.
“Yes; no windows, though.”
That was a hoary old joke; there were no windows on starships.
He went out into the outer office, which now had several officers waiting. Steve looked at the yeoman who had never liked him and the other made a faint gesture to one of the two hatches that didn’t have the word “Exit” on them. He found himself in a tiny office with room for a desk, a file cabinet and another chair in front of the desk.
He picked up the phone and was connected at once to the yeoman. “Send in the first interview,” Steve said.
“Yes, sir!”
The man who came in was a lieutenant commander, who blinked when he saw Steve. “Have a seat, Lieutenant Commander.”
The man remained standing. “What is this? I am here to interview for the task of I-Branch executive officer.”
“And I’m your first interview, Commander. Would you be willing to be indefinitely quarantined in a mission to treat with people suspected of having bio-weapons?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“The kind of question that caused the relief of Commander Booth’s entire department except for its most junior lieutenant and an ensign. Yes or no, Commander?”
“You don’t have that kind of authority, Lieutenant!”
“I never said I did. I asked you if you would volunteer. Yes or no?”
“It would depend, then, on who asked.”
“Thank you for your time, Commander. You can return to your duties. You are excused.”
“I demand to see the department head!”
“Sir, that would be a major mistake. Commander Booth has been known to be... abrupt.”
The man got up, opened the door and stepped up to the yeoman’s desk. “I demand to see Commander Booth! I will not be dismissed by a lieutenant!”
The yeoman gave his best “looking down his nose” at the commander. “Sir, with all due respect, you should reconsider.”
“I demand to see Commander Booth!” His voice was overloud, and brought an immediate response from the inner office.
Commander Booth appeared and th
e lieutenant commander launched into his litany of complaints.
Commander Booth looked at the man coldly. “Lieutenant Yardley said you were dismissed?”
“He is a lieutenant!”
“In five seconds I’m going to render a kick to your current location that will, with no further impetus, deliver you to the shuttle deck!”
“I’ll speak to the admiral!”
Commander Booth wound up for the kick and the man hastily exited. She turned to the rest of those waiting. “Lieutenant Yardley has my full confidence. Admiral Merriweather has a bad case of gas this afternoon. She is liable to twist the head off someone who complains -- assuming I haven’t done it first. Next! Show some intelligence!”
Steve said levelly, “I have a bad taste in my mouth. Send in Cadet Maitland.”
Steve sat down and Cliff reported formally, and Steve waved him to the chair.
“The only question I have for you, Cliff, is this really want to do?”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” Cliff replied emphatically.
Steve grimaced. “Actually, I have another question. While I’m not all that familiar with Commander Booth’s operational habits, I know she believes in limiting personnel involvement. Which means you have a greater chance of being involved with this op. I’m not kidding, I don’t want to minimize the danger. It could get very dangerous.”
“I’m ready for anything, sir,” he replied.
Steve stood up. “Come,” he commanded. When he was in the outer office he said, “Cadet Maitland to see Commander Booth.”
The next officer was a lieutenant commander as well. He didn’t hesitate to volunteer. Steve asked a few more questions before the commander spoke something other than an answer.
“You don’t seem to have heard of me, Lieutenant. I assume that means you’re new.”
“I am new, yes.”
“My name is Simon Roeser; my older brother is Tin Tin Roeser.”
“I haven’t heard of him either, Commander.”
He chuckled. “You are new! My brother relieved his admiral for cowardice -- and got the admiral shot.”
“I haven’t heard the story, sorry.”
“My brother was coming home to Barrio when the war started. When I heard, I rushed out to enlist, and was detailed to the Gagarin School. Three weeks after I left, the aliens visited Barrio.
“My brother is the exec of a Hero-class scout ship these days, and happily married to someone who has scored nearly as many times as Willow Wolf. Like my brother, I think that if anything is going to win this war for us, it is intelligence.”
“Tell the yeoman that you are next for Commander Booth,” Steve told him.
“That’s it -- just a few questions?”
“Commander, you have a ninety-seven point five percent on your bridge certificate, the lowest of your other certificates was an eighty-seven in propulsion engineering. You want a list of the ships you’ve served on, starting with Breitenfeld?”
“I look at you and think I see a shill; then I look twice and have to doubt my first judgment.”
“It will not help your peace of mind to know that six months ago, I was a secondary student.”
“You’ve seen the elephant,” Commander Roeser averred.
“Nope, but hey, I’m credited with rescuing thirty Marines!”
“They must not have been Ozarks; anyone who grabs an Ozark is grabbing a handful of misery.”
“Go see Commander Booth, Commander Roeser.”
The day went relatively fast after that. Steve forwarded a half dozen officers to Commander Booth and two more cadets, besides Cliff Maitland.
After the duty day he met Yolanda for dinner in the mess and they talked of many things, although there was considerable discussion of the Swensons’ courses.
“What is your practicum topic going to be, Steve?” she asked at one point.
Steve cleared his throat. “The impact of Union bio-techniques on the Federation.”
She laughed. “You know I can do all sorts of math in my head.”
“I’ve seen it,” Steve replied.
“Well, my first approximation of the results is that they are unknowable. They range from hardly a ripple to tearing the Federation apart. The Union isn’t a representative sample. They weren’t large enough and there was considerable social pressure to adapt.”
“Still, it’s an interesting question,” Steve said.
Yolanda reached over and patted his hand. “You are more concerned about the more exotic talents, Steve.”
Steve shrugged. “I’ll manage.”
*** ** ***
Steve motioned Cliff Maitland to a chair at the main conference room. Admiral Merriweather and Commander Booth sat across from the cadet along one of the long sides of the table. At first Cliff didn’t understand why Steve Yardley sat at the head of the table.
Steve spoke first. “I invited Admiral Merriweather here to insure that you understand I’m not rising above my place.”
Admiral Merriweather smiled. “Cadet Maitland, if you ever achieve flag rank you will learn that it’s not the bed of roses you thought it was.
“Lieutenant Yardley has my complete confidence, and the confidence of others even more senior. Does your knowledge of I-Branch procedures extend at this point to knowing what an Action Officer is?”
“Yes, Admiral. The I-Branch officer in charge of a particular activity or mission.”
“Do you understand that if I’m assigned to such a mission, I am subordinate to the Action Officer? Regardless of that officer’s ‘official’ rank?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The reason why we are going where we are going and doing what we will be doing is such a mission, assigned at the highest levels of the Federation. Lieutenant Yardley has been assigned as the Action Officer of this undertaking.
“The first part of the mission is moderately dangerous. You will be permitted to withdraw if you don’t feel up to it. You would not be professionally affected by that withdrawal.”
“I can’t imagine withdrawing from an assignment merely because it is dangerous.”
“Even if the danger is that of an extended period in the Cold Dark? Outfitted in a P-Suit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know how you were selected for this mission?” Donna Merriweather asked.
“No, sir.”
“You were the most junior officer available that had a Cold Dark certificate.”
“I have a basic certificate, Admiral.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to the tender mercies of these other officers. You don’t ever have to stand when I leave a compartment, Cadet Maitland.”
She stood and left.
Steve spoke quietly for the first minute.
“I can’t tell you how long the time we’ll spend in the Cold Dark, Cliff. More than an hour. The reason we want a junior officer is that you will be little more than a secretary, taking dictation for hours on end.”
“Lieutenant, I will do whatever I have to do.”
“Did I mention that you won’t know what we are doing until it’s over? That you may never know the resources and methods that produce the final result?”
“Fifty billion people have died in this war. I will do whatever I have to do to save even one.”
“You will be briefed at the last moment, Cliff, about what is expected of you. Needless to say, you can’t talk about this with anyone.”
“No problem, sir.”
“You are dismissed, Cliff.”
Cliff stood and saluted, first Steve and then Commander Booth, who had been silent.
Steve nodded. “Cliff, never salute an Action Officer.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Chapter 16 -- Intelligence Op
Steve Yardley saluted Emily Rosen. “Permission to depart the shuttle, Lieutenant.”
“And what would you do if I said ‘Permission denied?’” Emily replied.
Steve looked at her without comment and Emily laughed.
“Any mission that doesn’t entail fan transitions, I’m your gal! Y’all be careful out there!”
“No sweat, Lieutenant,” Cliff answered.
Steve and Cliff went out the airlock of the shuttle. Steve took bearings on five separate guide stars, then launched the two of them off into the vastness of the black void. They were far enough away from the star that Campbell’s World circled that it was the third brightest visible.
Everything was fine for the first forty minutes of the ninety minute flight, but then Steve started to sense the changes in Cliff. In theory, they were still short of halfway -- but Emily Rosen’s shuttle had turned for Thebes at once when her passengers had disembarked. Their destination was closer in real time.
Steve broke the communications protocol fifteen minutes out. “Susan, contact California Base and declare an emergency. Cliff has had a bad reaction to the Cold Dark. Tell them that you have two unmanifested passengers, one of whom has gone into shock and he reports a tender lower right quadrant of the abdomen -- you suspect appendicitis.
“Plot the hottest orbit possible once you pick us up in about fifteen minutes. I’ll take care of the rest.”
The message was sent via latch-frame, using a code unique to Susan -- and one that was considered the most secure in the Federation.
*** ** ***
Admiral Jimmu Timmu, commander of California Base, was in his weekly staff meeting when the deputy head of the communications department popped the door open and walked directly to him. The officer leaned down and whispered into his ear. “Admiral, you have a Firebird.”
The admiral was out of his seat at once and trotted to the communications room, followed by the full commander. He settled down into the seat and the commander flipped three switches and hustled from the compartment.
The screen lit, showing Thor Swenson. “Howdy, Jim.”
“Thor, it’s been a while.”
“There’s not much time, Jim. Trudy and I are on sort of busman’s holiday. Just now, in a short time, a shuttle is going to squawk an emergency. The pilot will report a case of appendicitis -- it’s really a case of Cold Dark Psychosis. That’s one of my cadets, Jim. He’s a good lad, treat him right -- but list him as recovering from appendicitis.
The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7) Page 32
