No. He didn’t need to know that. Neither did she. That was a long past chapter in both their lives when she had been too proud and he had been too honorable, and they both had been too stubborn to quit the military and too weak to grab each other and run for the stars.
Pajandcan laughed. What wonderful romantics they had been, he the homo sapien, bound and braced by traditions he didn’t even understand; she the homo electus, convinced that she was one of the chosen people, unwilling to break that myth for the love of a lesser man. But Josiah had been anything but lesser.
Too late she understood how much alike they truly were and how closely their feelings and philosophies paralleled one another. Too late she had come to her senses only to find herself separated from him by endless parsecs. When she had finally sent him a message of apology and invitation, he replied point-blank that it was too late – much too late.
Slowly Pajandcan unwound her feet from behind her neck and lowered them to the deck. She only hoped it wasn’t too late to set up some real defenses for the Matthews system. If this Dawson could do the job with the equipment she had available, more power to him.
But she suspected that whenever the Ukes were ready, they were going to come bounding out of space with lasers blazing and neutronics burning the skies. All they had to do was capture seven key space stations and Reckynop Command, and they would have effective control of Matthews system. With that accomplished, they could mop up the resistance on Reckynop and the minor bases at their leisure. The only thing Pajandcan didn’t understand was what the Ukes were waiting for.
7
FRYE READ THE MESSAGE WITH A SHARP mixture of elation and anger. Lisa Cay was safe, but she was being held at some place called Alexvieux pending confirmation of relief for a party of stranded scientists. It was bad enough that some Oinaise merchant was involved, but her message also asked for safe passage for a lightspeed freighter with Sondak registry. What in Decie’s name had she gotten herself involved in?
There was no time to worry about that. “Melliman!”
Moments later Melliman stood perfectly at attention before him “Sir?”
“Relax, Melliman. Take a seat, and tell me what you make of this message.”
“It appears authentic, sir,” Melliman said as she sat in her usual place beside his desk, “in spite of the fact that we haven’t used that code base for almost –“
“Ten years,” Frye said quietly. “Ten years.”
“The reference to Alexvieux Five is real enough, sir,” she continued. “Chadiver has had a series of scientific missions there over the past several decades.”
“I thought all those scientific missions had been ordered recalled?”
“Alexvieux Five was one of the exceptions, sir.”
“By whose order?”
“The record doesn’t indicate. However, I believe Marshall Judoff has an interest in Alexvieux.”
“And why do you believe that, AOCO?” Frye was suddenly curious about Melliman’s information.
“Because she believes Alexvieux has military potential, sir. She said as much in front of me one day when I was in her office picking up those Deo-D records for you.”
“She told you that?”
“No, sir. She was showing off that new holospan galactic map of hers to a subordinate and explaining how Alexvieux could one day prove of great strategic value to the UCS.”
“Do you think that’s true, AOCO?” He watched her as she thought carefully before answering.
“Any place can have strategic value, if for no other reason than because it appears not to have strategic value.”
“Very well. We’ll let that rest for the moment. What other information can you add to the contents of this message?”
“Exceedingly little, sir. The Oinaise ship satisfied all security checks before leaving Quadulbank and would have been within range of an emergency beacon from Alexvieux on its scheduled course. There is almost no information on Sondak ship except that it also has UCS trading registry.”
Frye cocked an eyebrow. “That means…?”
“That it is an officially recognized trading vessel.”
“Except in time of war,” Frye added with a smile. “Anything else, Melliman?” For an instant he was aware of how close he was to her and leaned back in his chair.
“Nothing that you don’t already know, sir. The message was sent by your daughter.”
“And how did you know that, Melliman?”
“Because she slipped and used the patfam form of address. Who else would address you as father?”
Frye smiled. Melliman would be shocked if he gave her the true answer to that. “Who else, indeed? Well done, Melliman. Now, what is being done by Chadiver to relieve or rescue those scientists?”
“I’m afraid nothing at the moment, sir. MILCOM Chadiver is responsible for defending a double expanse in that sector, and they do not have ships to spare.”
Frye’s smile quickly turned into a frown. “You mean MILCOM Chadiver was going to sacrifice a scientific expedition without so much as an attempt to rescue them?”
“I don’t think they had a choice, sir. They didn’t have ships of their own to effect a rescue, and there were none close enough to loan for such an effort.”
Melliman spoke matter-of-factly, but Frye could tell that her instincts were with his. They both hated the waste of human lives. “All right. Let’s send some messages. The first to my daughter telling her to remain there and render whatever assistance she can until relief arrives from Chadiver. The second to the Oinaise – the usual thanks, good wishes, and be gone. The third to MILCOM Chadiver. Tell them to pull a ship from the line and get those people off Alexvieux.”
“What about the safe passage request, sir?”
“Approved. No, make that tentatively approved pending final confirmation from this command. I want to think about that. But go ahead and add their registration info to the next update.”
Melliman stood up. “Anything else, sir?”
“Yes. We’re going to be working late again this evening. Durham’s bringing his staff in for briefing and evaluation, so if you’re going to eat, you’d better do it now.”
“What about you, sir? Can I bring you something, something special perhaps?”
Frye immediately cut off his cold reaction to the warm tone of her voice. “Just the usual,” he said quietly without meeting her gaze.
As soon as she left, he cursed softly. Melliman might prove to be expendable after all. He rejected that thought as soon as it arose. She had done nothing, absolutely nothing wrong, and she was the best AOCO he was going to find any time soon. The fault, whatever it was, was in himself. For reasons he didn’t yet understand, Melliman had been setting off cold bursts of fury in him like bombs exploding in vacuum.
Yet it was his reaction that was at fault. He knew that. Not once had she acted in anything but the most professional military manner toward him. Not once had she given him cause to reprimand her. As an Aide-of-Commander, she was damned near perfect. It would be stupid to transfer her somewhere else because he failed to control his personal reactions.
But it would be more stupid to keep her around if her presence kept annoying him, for he certainly didn’t have time to waste trying to analyze his feelings. There were other AOCOs who would suffice if necessary.
◊ ◊ ◊
General Mari stared into the viewscreen and waited impatiently for the com-window to resolve itself. The independent systems of Cczwyck and Fernandez had both fallen to the Ukes, and now it looked like Matthews system might be their next target, but Mari refused to believe that they would really be so foolish.
Finally a voice broke through the static, but the picture on the viewscreen remained jumbled with harsh jagged lines.
“Post Admiral Pajandcan for you, sir,” the distorted voice said in his earpiece.
“We’ve got no picture,” he said to the technician working beside him.
“No picture here, either,” a new voice said in
his ear.
“That you, Pajandcan?”
“It was…went to sleep, General.”
“Yes, of course,” Mari said quickly. “Forgot to figure the time difference.”
“Say again, sir?”
“The time difference, Pajandcan. Oh, never mind. We need a report from our consultant.”
“Can’t scramble…channel…to through Dawson…by the measure of it…”
“Your transmission is breaking up. Repeat what –“ Mari cut himself off in midsentence. The static in his ear went flat and the screen went blank.
“Lost them, sir,” the technician beside him said. “We knew it would be a dirty com-window when we tried it.”
“So get them back.”
“We can’t sir. The window was closing when we started. It’s gone now.”
Mari flushed with anger. “When can we get her back?”
“On synchronous com?” the tech asked incredulously.
“Yes, on synchronous com,” Mari said in disgust.
“The next good window we’ll have, sir, will be in about one-hundred eighty hours. Until then we’ll have to use relays. Shall I call them back on the relay, sir?”
“No,” Mari snapped. “I don’t want to talk to them on relay. I want to talk to them directly. “ He stood up, stared at the technician, and swore to himself that the inferior races like these pikeans would be weeded out of the service as soon as this war was over. “Where’s Captain Gilbert?” he demanded.
“Uh, she transferred out, sir. To Cryptography, I think.”
“Then who’s running this section now?” In his anger Mari had forgotten all about Gilbert’s transfer. That was something else he didn’t approve of. Why should Rochmon have gotten her instead of him?”
“Captain Londron, sir, but he’s not here at the moment.”
“Dammit! Who’s here now?” Mari was fast losing control and didn’t like it.
“Group Leader Baret, sir,” the technician said hesitantly. “Shall I get him?”
“You’d better if you don’t want to be busted back down to fleety.”
The tech gave him a quick salute and immediately left the room. Mari stared at the communications equipment and tried to calm himself. It had been happening too damned fast, and for the first time in Mari’s career he felt unprepared to deal with the events which swirled around him.
First there had been the surprise attacks which negated all his arguments for the past three years. Then he had been forced to take totally unnecessary abuse from those incompetents from the TriCameral and the Combined Committees. All the while it had become more and more obvious that he was in the minority with the Joiont Cheifs. His frustration and anger had mounted accordingly without finding a good outlet.
“Captain Londron, sir,” a voice said from behind him.
Mari spun around and found himself face to face with another pikean inferior.
“I was told you wanted to see Group Leader Baret.”
“You’ll do just fine, Captain. If, that is, you can tell me why we can’t get through to the Matthews system.”
“It’s a matter of com-windows, sir,” Londron said with a shrug. “I don’t pretend to understand all the physics of it. I just know how to manipulate our communications to –“
“To do everything to frustrate the war effort!” Mari exploded. “I want to be notified the moment you have one of your precious windows to the Matthews system. Is that understood?”
“Yessir!”
“And I want you to notify me, Captain, not some tech or some group leader. You.”
“Will do, sir.”
“Excellent.” Mari left the room without returning Londron’s salute and made his way quickly out of the communications center. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t have directed his anger at the communications officer, but he didn’t care.
He was going to his quarters where Giselda would be waiting to service him. The thought of the gentle, witless pikean brought a thin smile to his lips. Giselda would take his anger and frustration and find her own pleasure in it while he got roaring drunk.
◊ ◊ ◊
Quarter Admiral Ingrivia had been addicted to gorlet for more than ten years – addicted to its subtle tranquilizing effects. But it was an addiction she understood and controlled with a self-discipline as rigid as a code of honor. Admitting her addiction to her superiors yet refusing to give up the gorlet had halted the progress of her military career – that, and the anti-pikean sentiments at the higher levels of command. Unable to force her out of service because of her previous record, her superiors had given her the isolated command of Ca-Ryn.
Once the Ukes ran over Fernandez and Cczwyck, Admiral Ingrivia made the supreme sacrifice for Sondak. Through three days of vomiting, diarrhea, and hot and cold sweats she had purged her system of the residue of gorlet.
Now the Ukes were approaching Ca-Ryn, and despite her discipline, she longed for one rich, sweet bite of the Oinaise candy and the tranquility that came with it. Instead she chewed cafpicks, drank liters of herbal tea, and worked for days without sleep to prepare the defenses for Ca-Ryn and Umboolu.
Her efforts paid off. The defense fleet off Umboolu caught the Ukes from behind and severely crippled them. Umboolu eventually fell, but the time gained had helped her shore up Ca-Ryn’s defenses. However, nothing she could have done prepared her for the first sighting of the Uke fleet coming around Ca-Ryn’s sun.
“Two launchships and twenty cruisers, Admiral.”
“Reinforcements,” she said softly. “But from where?”
She had no time to wait for an answer. The first Uke missile tore off the bow of her command ship. Shaken and angry, she immediately started giving rapid-fire orders that sent her own missiles and ships in reply.
With the Flight Corps in the lead of two-hundred well-trained, armed civilian pilots, Ca-Ryn’s defenders gave the Ukes a fierce and terrible battle.
At the end of the first day, one Uke launchship and seven of its cruisers were out of action.
At the end of the third day, Admiral Ingrivia had withdrawn her forces into a tight defense of Ca-Ryn itself and was sending planetside one-by-one for the final defense.
At the end of ten days, she was commanding the ground troops and had managed to contain every Uke force that landed.
She smiled grimly at the small group of her officers outside her hillside headquarters. “The Ukes may control our space,” she said with a half-wave at the sky, “and they may cut us off from the rest of the galaxy, but they’ll never control Ca-Ryn itself. Not as long as I am in command. Whatever else we do –“
A thunderous explosion rocked the hillside, and only one officer lived to remember her words.
◊ ◊ ◊
Leri buried the second gulping with the same resignation as she had buried the first. Her only serious disappointment had been that the one she suspected of carrying the ambassador’s soul still lived. But it was not for her to question the ways of the Elett.
Ranas curled by her side, unspeaking as the rituals demanded, but with a strong attitude of censure that he transferred to her through the scent of his skin. Leri knew how Ranas was disturbed by her actions, and she knew that sooner or later she would have to face the problems she had created by killing the four ambassadors.
Yet Leri was consumed by a vision which had pushed everything else aside for her. After the birth of her guplings, she had dreamed of a path through the mists, a way to lead her race free from the humans and Sondak. Since then the dream kept recurring, each time a little clearer and more compelling.
“It is done,” she said quietly as she sealed the narrow grave with the mucus from her body. “So be it.”
“So be it,” Ranas echoed.
“You are still angry. I can smell it on you.”
“You smell your own discontent, my mate.”
“I smell your anger and disapproval,” Leri snapped as she slid away from him and flashed her lean body back toward h
er nest and her remaining guplings.
“I will listen when you are ready to talk,” he called after her, “and soon you must talk.”
“Go away,” she hissed quietly, knowing he could not hear her and hoping that he would follow. She did need to talk. She needed to tell someone about the vision, if not Ranas, then perhaps one of the Confidantes. If the vision became much stronger, there was danger that she would succumb to it and be led away from her duties as proctor. Some way had to be found to combine the vision with the duty and make them both –
The roar of an approaching human craft broke her thoughts and made her hurry the last few meters to the nest. They were returning much sooner than she expected, much sooner than she was ready for them.
She had barely settled around her daughters when Ranas slid in and announced the arrival of the new ambassador.
“Send him away. I am not prepared.”
“You cannot dismiss this one so easily,” Ranas said with a heavy tone of amusement.
“What do you mean? I can dismiss them all.”
“This one is not human. It is Castorian.”
Leri shuddered. “Are you sure? How can you be sure?”
“It told me,” Ranas said. “And it warned me not to try and kill it.”
“They are soulless,” Leri protested.
“We are not,” a crablike creature from behind Ranas said in a piercing voice. “We are no more soulless than you are.”
Leri shuddered again. This was not part of her vision. “Why have you come here?”
“To breathe your sweet methane, Proctor,” the crab said with a rapid clack, “and to intercede for Sondak.”
“Do all your people sell themselves in such a way, Ambassador?” Leri coiled tighter around her guplings, suddenly frightened for them and for herself.
“When necessary,” the crab answered. “However, I am not an ambassador. I am a scientist and a scholar.”
“One of those who evaluated our atmosphere,” Leri said.
“Yes, I have done that. I have also been studying your race. From a distance, of course. Most interesting.”
“Do you have a name, Castorian?”
“None which translates well. The humans call me Exeter. That will do as well as anything else.”
Double Spiral War Trilogy Page 8
