“What is it then?”
“Loyalty. I was born on Chadiver. I was raised on a dozen planets, all a part of the United Central Systems. I’m a Uke, Lucky,” she said looking him straight in the eyes.
“So? I guessed that a long time ago. What difference does that make?” As he looked at her, her gaze softened.
“Then…then you didn’t believe what I told you about –“
“Not for a minute. Too many giveaways.”
“And you took me on anyway?”
“That’s pretty obvious,” he said with a smile. “Why shouldn’t I have taken you on? I was falling in love with you so fast I thought I was going to go spaceblind.”
Marsha reached out and took his hand again. “I’m really sorry, Lucky.”
“For what?”
“For not telling you earlier.”
“So tell me the rest of it now.”
She stared at him for a long, still moment. “All right,” she said as she dropped her eyes. “But don’t get angry at me.”
“Promise,” Lucky said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. She kept her head lowered, and when she spoke, the emotional strain was clear in her voice.
“I made a promise, years ago, that if war ever broke out I would go home…”
“And?”
“And serve my father,” she whispered.
“Come on, Mars, spit it out.”
“In the military,” she finished.
Lucky’s stomach twisted and flopped. “You mean – “
“Yes. In the UCS military.” She looked up at him again. “I can’t expect you to understand that, but you’ve got to know that I love you.” Tears burned in the corners of her eyes.
“But what about us?” Even as he asked his question, Lucky knew the answer. Their partnership, private and professional was over. “And you don’t have a choice?”
Marsha got up from her chair and moved to his lap. Her tears ran freely down her face. “No, I promised.” She put her head on his shoulder. “Lucky, no one in the universe means more to me than you do. No one. Not even my father. But it’s a promise I can’t break. Please – “ A quiet sob choked her words off in her throat.
“It’s all right,” he said as he pulled her tight and stroked her hair. “It’s all right. So we go find your father. Maybe he’ll take me, too.”
She pulled back from him and snuffled. “You mean that?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” He pulled a facecloth from his pocket and handed it to her.
After she blew her nose and wiped the tears from her eyes, she said. “He might not take you.”
“Because I’m –“
“Yes. He hates Sondak.”
Lucky felt a sudden stirring of concern, but he refused to let it build to something more. “I’ll take my chances. What’s the worst they can do to me?”
“I don’t know. Father will protect you. But you might end up spending the duration of the war stuck on some planet.”
The stirring of regret broke free from his restraints. “Marsha? Do you understand what you’re saying to me? You’re telling me I have to take you home. But you’re also saying that might cost me my freedom.”
She started crying again. “I know. I know. But better that than to have you disappearing into the void.”
He held her close and let her cry it out. Yet all the time a voice was screaming defiance in his brain. Lose his freedom? Become a prisoner? Never! Never!
◊ ◊ ◊
Frye Charltos stood unmoving throughout Vinita’s cremation. Only one of the mourners had been inconsiderate enough to reach out and touch him, and he had glared at her with such ferocity that she shrank back.
Now as he watched the fire burn low on the other side of the thick crystal wall, he almost wished someone would touch him – would grab his arm and scream that it wasn’t true, that Vinita was still alive. The military part of his mind scorned his weakness. Nothing could make him like reality. But no amount of self-pity could keep him from accepting it.
A vorian began playing softly in the background, sending a solemn tune like damp mist through the mourners. Drye had heard the tune all too many times before – the Kothhymn of the Dead. The last flame died away with the last strains of the song. The crystal wall went dark.
There was one more duty he had to perform, and then it would be over. Frye turned, straightened his shoulders, and acknowledged the mourners one by one as they came to share their grief. Only days later while sitting in his office did he realize that he had not spoken to a single one of them.
“Melliman,” he said quietly into his lapelcom, “I want to see the latest reports.”
“Yes, sir,” her voice responded from his desk speaker.
Moments later his microspooler came to life. But before he had time to read half of the first report, Melliman’s voice came over the speaker again. “Admiral Tuuneo here to see you, sir.”
“Send him in,” Frye said quietly. The last person he wanted to see at the moment was Tuuneo, but there was absolutely no way protocol would allow him to turn away a senior officer. He also realized that having Tuuneo come to see him was an honor directly connected with Vinita’s death. He rose when the door opened. “Admiral,” he said quietly.
“Sit down, Commander. Sit down,” Tuuneo said as he crossed the room. “There is no need for formality with us.”
Frye remained standing. “I am honored by your presence.”
“Thank you, Commander. Now, please, sit down,” he said with a wave of his hand as if the office were his own.
Frye took his seat behind the desk and looked Tuuneo squarely in the face. “What can I do for you, Admiral?”
“The question is whether or not I can do anything for you, Commander.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, sir?” Frye thought he detected an odd tone in Tuuneo’s voice, but couldn’t classify it.
“Well, Commander, I understand how greatly you must feel the loss of your wife, but I certainly hope that has not blinded you to the, uh, shall we say, uh, political realities of the moment.”
Frye had some idea what Tuuneo was referring to, he waited for his senior to continue.
“It seems, Charltos, that several members of Bridgeforce are concerned about your performance.”
Frye was not surprised. “The messages?”
“Not just those, although Decie knows they are not very happy about the messages either. No, this time they seem to be concerned about your judgment – that is, they wonder if you can continue directing our forces in your current mental state.”
“Heller’s fleet, sir! What is that supposed to mean?” Frye heard more anger in his voice than he felt.
Tuuneo shiftedin his chair and looked squarely across the desk. “They are talking about a month’s grief leave for you.”
“Tell them to take their leave and…I’m sorry, sir. I have no right to speak to you like that.”
“’The wrath of bad news falls on the messenger.’”
Tuuneo’s quotation from the Concordance only mixed Frye’s emotions. But he sensed that something more important than Bridgeforce’s concern was involved here. A brief flash of insight told him what. “Who else is after me, Admiral?”
“Judoff.”
Frye laughed coldly. “I should have known. But surely, sir, the Bridgeforce wouldn’t put that political rumpsuck in a position as critical as this one?”
“No,” Tuuneo said with a faint smile as he smoothed the few silver hairs still left on his head, “not immediately, anyway. But Judoff knows that, too. She and her group have suggested that Commander Kuskuvyet could serve as acting commander until you, uh, recover.”
In a steady voice which betrayed none of the hatred he felt whenever that name was mentioned, Frye said, “Kuskuvyet is a well-trained officer with a commendable record, but –“
“But everyone on the command staff knows he is no more than a mediocre tactician – and a worse strategist.”
“
It would be unfair of me to comment on that, sir.”
“In Decie’s name, Charltos! What’s the matter with you? Don’t you understand how serious this is?”
“Only too well,” Frye said evenly.
“Then why – “
“Why am I not upset? Oh, but I am, Admiral. I am. But showing it isn’t going to do any good. Pardon my interruption, but I believe you came here to tell me something you haven’t gotten to yet. Until you tell me what that is, I would be well advised to control whatever emotions I feel.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself for a man who could be replaced at any time by an incompetent. If it weren’t for the fact that the command staff has been supporting you, you would be gone already.”
“So that’s it. You almost sound like you regret that support, Admiral.” Frye had a perspective on the problem which let him see it now with cold detachment. If Bridgeforce wanted to replace him with an idiot, that was their problem. For the moment he was indifferent to their political concerns. His duty was to finish this campaign.
“Charltos, I’m trying to tell you that you’re in trouble.”
“But you are also telling me that the command staff will not let that trouble get out of hand. Isn’t that right, sir?”
Tuuneo shook his head and pressed his lips together. “Yes,” he said finally, “we will control Judoff – and Kuskuvyet, too, if necessary. But we need your cooperation.”
Frye tensed slightly, then let the air escape slowly from his lungs. “I have the feeling you are about to get to the point of this whole visit, sir. I also have the feeling I’m not going to like it.”
“Command doesn’t give a finger in space whether you like it or not. We want you to put together a plan to capture and control the Matthews system.”
With a grim smile of relief Frye said, “I’ve already begun working on it.”
“You’ve what?”
“Begun working on it, sir. It seemed one of the next logical steps if our initial plans worked.” Frye couldn’t tell whether Admiral Tuuneo was angry or confused.
“Then why in Decie’s name haven’t you mentioned it to the command staff?”
“Because it was premature. It still is…unless, of course, it is politically expedient to…”
Silence hung between them for a long moment before Tuuneo looked carefully at Frye. “It is more than politically expedient, Commander. It is necessary if we want to continue leading and winning this war.”
Frye finally understood what had brought them to this point. He was not the only one who had doubts about their ability to win the war. Admiral Tuuneo and some of the UCS command staff must share at least some of those doubts about. Suddenly he felt much better. A man who knew he could lose would be much better prepared to win. “How much time do we have?” he asked quietly.
Tuuneo smiled. “To announce the plan to Bridgeforce?” A month, at best. After that, who knows?”
“Would you like to make the announcement, sir?” Frye knew he did not have to make that offer, but since they were dealing with politics…
“No, Charltos. You make it. As soon as you’re ready. That will be more effective against Judoff, I think.” Tuuneo stood.
Frye stood with him. “Very well, sir.”
The admiral narrowed his eyes, then spoke very quietly. “You keep me posted on this, Charltos. I’ll need at least a day’s notice before you make the announcement.”
“Will do, sir,” Frye said as he escorted Tuuneo to the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as my staff and I are ready.”
Once Tuuneo was gone, Frye returned to his desk and sat staring at his folded hands. He was making a mistake. Somewhere deep inside he had been harboring the motion that taking the Matthews system was the wrong thing to do. But he had no logical argument for that feeling.
The Matthews system was a sound military target, and once UCS controlled it, Sondak would have a far more difficult time mounting a counteroffensive. It was midway between the two galactic powers, a strategic base without equal. Yet it was also a higher-risk target, one which Sondak would even now be preparing to defend.
Frye shrugged wearily and turned on his microspooler. There were many things which had to be done before he could concentrate on the new plan – things which involved life and death for their forces right now. But even as he reviewed new reports which showed fewer than expected losses in the surprise attacks, his uncertainty about the Matthews plan nagged at the back of his mind.
3
“THERES AN ALTERNATIVE,” MARSHA SAID QUIETLY. “We could go to Alexvieux and –“
“That backspace system?” They don’t even have a real starport. You ever try landing a ship as big as Graycloud without even the crudest of beacons? Besides, why would you want to go to Alexvieux?”
Marsha curled tighter against him, comforted by the feel of his skin and the hardness of his body. “Chadiver has a scientific mission on Alexvieux Five. From there I could get home.”
“What’s the advantage?” he asked softly as she shifted one leg over his.
“You wouldn’t have to face…”
“Your father? The Ukes? But I’d be stranding you there. Anyway, it’s probably too late to change course.” As Lucky said that, he realized the double meaning of his words, but he didn’t care. A deep sense of melancholia had taken hold on him.
“I’m sorry,” Marsha whispered. “I never meant for you to get caught up in this. I thought if it ever happened – the war, I mean – well, I thought I would have some warning. Then…” She let the implications hand, unhappy that there was no better way to express what she meant. “I really am sorry, Lucky,” she repeated.
“I know, Mars. I know. Me, too.”
“Are you worried?”
“More than that. I’m scared. Being locked up and tied down isn’t my idea of a very happy life.”
“But I told you, my father –“
“Don’t. Don’t make promises for your father. He might not be able to keep them.” Suddenly Lucky tensed. “Wait a minute. You said there was a scientific mission on Alexvieux Five, right?”
“What’s the matter?”
Lucky pulled away from her and climbed out of the bed. “Maybe it’s not too late to change course,” he said as he put on a baggy exercise suit. “Come on, Mars. You’ve gotta help.”
By the time she entered the flight cabin a few minutes later, Lucky was tapping away at the navigation console. “Can we make the change?”
“We’ll know pretty soon,” he said as a series of red numbers started flashing across the green screen.
“Why did you change your mind?” she asked as she sat down beside him.
“Didn’t, Mars,” he said, giving her hand a quick pat before responding to a query on the screen. “Just figured another angle.” He leaned back and looked at her when the numbers started flashing again. “If we go to Alexvieux, then we can communicate with your father from there – make a deal for me to take you wherever he wants you to go – and at the same time get him to guarantee that I can leave afterward.”
Marsha smiled slightly. “You don’t know my father.” With a pause she thought of how little she knew him, and how mixed her emotions about him were. “He doesn’t like deals very much – unless they’re his own.”
“Then maybe we’ll have to go with your idea. But at least this way we have a chance for something else.”
The console buzzed. “There’s your answer,” Marsha said.
“Two short warps with course corrections in between,” Lucky said as he checked the data, “then a long shot to Alexvieux.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
He looked at her and an odd twitch tensed his chest muscles. “I don’t know. Your approval, I guess.”
She reached out and took his hand. For a long moment she cradled it in her own. Abruptly she raised it to her lips and gave it a quick kiss. “Any way you want to do it is more than fine with me.”
“Thanks, Mars,”
he said softly, as he caressed her cheek. “I really mean that.” Then he turned back to the console and started tapping in instructions. He felt better now than he had since before Roberg.
As she watched him, Marsha wondered, not for the first time, how she had been fortunate enough to become his partner. Her answer before had always been Fate, but now she wasn’t so sure. Fate was too remote, too nebulous a concept to account for the intimacy of their relationship. It had to be something greater than that, something more personal – like God.
That idea surprised her. She had not had any strong religious feeling since childhood. Yet at this very moment she felt a sense of presence, a conviction that some loving power was watching over her and Lucky. A warm rush of assurance made her want to tell him what she felt, but she dared not. She knew his agnostic cynicism wouldn’t accept it.
“There,” he said happily as he turned away from the console. “You want to make this warp in bed?”
“Yes!”
The warm eagerness in her response and the glow on her face puzzled him a little, but only for a moment. Before he could get up, she was in his lap, her arms locked around his neck, her mouth feeding on his with hungry, searching kisses. Lucky didn’t need any encouragement to return the heat of her passion.
When they finally paused for a brief moment, he freed an arm, reached out, and switched off the artificial gravity. With a gentle push from his feet, they floated up out of the chair.
“You devil,” Marsha said with a grin as he guided them toward the companionway.
“Angel, you mean,” he responded as they floated toward their cabin, holding each other with well-practiced grips.
“Both.”
As they drifted through the cabin door they released each other with simultaneous giggles. Lucky did a slow tumble, and when he came out of it, he floated naked toward the bed and his empty athletic suit floated in the opposite direction in a comic parody of his actions. While Marsha finished getting her own suit off, Lucky released the zero-g net and pulled it down over the bed like a billowing tent. By the time he fastened it to the safety rail, she had wrapped her legs around his waist.
With a vigorous twist he set them spinning. Their bodies sought contact at impossible angles that only zero-g allowed them. Even under the best of circumstances they were awkward lovers, but they always found a special joy in each other when they made love without gravity.
Double Spiral War Trilogy Page 3
