Captain Maynard Khanna and Admiral Lalwani were sitting in front of the First Admiral’s desk. Two more blue-steel chairs were distending up out of the circular pools of silver on the floor.
“What was all that about?” Kolhammer asked.
“We have a small legal problem with one of our guests,” Lalwani said dryly. “It’s just a question of procedures, that’s all.”
“Bloody lawyers,” Samual Aleksandrovich muttered. He gestured Kolhammer and the voidhawk captain to sit.
“Is it relevant to Thakrar’s information?” Kolhammer asked.
“No, fortunately.” Samual smiled a fast welcome at Syrinx. “My thanks to Oenone for such a swift flight.”
“I’m happy to be contributing, sir,” Syrinx said. “Our journey time from Ngeuni was eighteen hours.”
“That’s very good.”
“Good enough?” Kolhammer asked.
“We believe so,” Lalwani said. “According to our New California surveillance operation, Capone is only just starting to refuel and rearm his fleet again.”
“How up-to-date is that information?” Kolhammer asked.
“There’s a voidhawk flight each day from the Yosemite Consensus, so at the most we’re only thirty hours behind. According to the Consensus, it will be another week at the most before they’re ready to launch.”
“At Toi-Hoi, allegedly,” Kolhammer mused. “Sorry to play the heretic, but how reliable is this Captain Thakrar?”
Syrinx could only give an empty gesture. If only I had some way of imparting Erick’s intensity, his devotion, to them. “I have no doubt Captain Thakrar’s data is genuine, Admiral. Apart from his unfortunate collapse at the finish of his mission he’s proved an absolute credit to the CNIS. Capone does intend to invade Toi-Hoi next.”
“I accept the information as essentially accurate,” Lalwani affirmed. “We really are going to be able to intercept the Organization fleet.”
“Which is going to eliminate the Capone problem completely,” Maynard Khanna said. “With him gone, all we have to concern ourselves with is the quarantine.”
“And that damnfool Mortonridge Liberation which the Kingdom’s foisted on to us,” Kolhammer complained.
“Psychologically, the elimination of Capone’s fleet will be considerably more important,” Lalwani said. “Capone is interpreted as a far more active threat by Confederation citizens—”
“Yeah, thanks to the damn media,” Kolhammer said.
“—so when they see there is no further chance of his fleet appearing in their skies, and the navy has achieved that for them, we will have a great deal more leverage with the Assembly when it comes to implementing our policy.”
“Which is?” Samual Aleksandrovich asked sardonically. “Yes, yes, Lalwani. I know. I simply don’t welcome the notion of holding things together while we pray that Gilmore and all the others like him can find a solution for us; it smacks of inactivity.”
“The more we thwart them, the more we can expect them to cooperate in finding a solution,” she said.
“Very optimistic,” Kolhammer said.
Samual datavised a request into his desktop processor and the fat AV cylinder hanging from the middle of the ceiling began to sparkle. “This is our current strategic disposition,” he said as the chairs swivelled their occupants around to face the projection. They were looking down on the Confederation stars from galactic south, where tactical situation icons orbited around the suns of inhabited worlds like technicolour moons. At the centre, Earth’s forces were portrayed by enough symbols to form a ring of gas giant proportions. “You’re going to get your chance, Motela,” the First Admiral said quietly. “That 1st Fleet squadron you assembled to deal with Laton is the only possible force we can engage Capone with. We don’t have time to put anything else together.”
Kolhammer studied the projection. “What does the Yosemite Consensus estimate Capone’s fleet size to be this time?”
“Approximately seven hundred,” Lalwani said. “Numerically, that’s slightly down on last time. Arnstadt is tying up a lot of his mid-capacity ships. However, he has acquired a disturbing number of Arnstadt’s navy ships. Consensus believes the fleet will contain at least three hundred and twenty front-line warships. The rest are made up from combat-capable traders and civil craft modified to carry combat wasps.”
“And they’re armed with antimatter,” Kolhammer said. “My squadron has a maximum of two hundred ships. We both went to the same academy, Lalwani, you need a two to one advantage to guarantee success. And that’s just theoretically.”
“The Organization crews are not highly motivated or efficient,” she replied. “Nor do their ships function at a hundred per cent capacity with possessed on board screwing up the systems.”
“Neither of which will matter a damn to their damn forty-gee combat wasps once they’re launched. They function just fine.”
“I will assign you half of the 1st Fleet vessels here at Avon,” the First Admiral said. “That will bring your strength up to four hundred and thirty, including eighty voidhawks. In addition, Lalwani has suggested that we request support from every Edenist Consensus within a seventy-light-year radius of Toi-Hoi.”
“Even if they only release ten per cent of their voidhawks, that should give you nearly three hundred and fifty voidhawks,” she said.
“Seven hundred and eighty front-line warships,” Kolhammer said. “A force that big is very cumbersome.”
Lalwani turned from the projection to give him a reproachful stare. She found him grinning straight at her.
“But I think I can cope.”
“Our tactical staff want to use Tranquillity as the rendezvous point,” Khanna said. “It’s only eighteen light-years from Toi-Hoi; which means you can be there in five hours once you know the Organization fleet is on its way.”
“One ship takes five hours, yes, but we’re dealing with nearly eight hundred. I wasn’t joking about such a force being cumbersome. Why don’t the tactical staff want us to use Toi-Hoi itself?”
“Capone must have it under observation. If he sees that kind of task force arrive he’ll simply abort and choose another target. We’d be back at square one. Tranquillity is close, and it’s not an obvious military base. Once our observation operation confirms the Organization fleet is leaving for Toi-Hoi a voidhawk will fly directly to Tranquillity and alert you. You can be at Toi-Hoi before Capone’s ships arrive. You can destroy them as they jump in.”
“Perfect tactics,” Kolhammer said, almost to himself. “How long before the rest of the 1st Fleet ships can join the squadron?”
“I’ve already issued recall orders,” the First Admiral said. “The bulk will be at Trafalgar within fifteen hours. The remainder can fly directly to Tranquillity.”
Kolhammer consulted the AV projection again, then datavised a series of requests into the desktop processor. The scale changed, expanding while the viewpoint slipped around to put Toi-Hoi at the centre. “The critical factor here is that Tranquillity is secure. We need to prevent any ship from leaving, and also make sure it’s not under any kind of stealth observation before we arrive.”
“Suggestion?” Samual asked.
“It’ll be four and a half days before the task force gets to Tranquillity. But Meredith Saldana’s squadron is still at Cadiz, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Khanna said. “The ships were docked at a 7th Fleet supply base. The Cadiz government requested they remain and support local forces.”
“So, a voidhawk could reach Cadiz within . . .” He gave Syrinx an inquiring glance.
“From Trafalgar? Seven to eight hours.”
“And Meredith could get to Tranquillity in a further twenty hours. Which would give him almost three days to check local space for any kind of clandestine surveillance activity, as well as preventing any locals from leaving.”
“Get the orders drafted,” the First Admiral told Khanna. “Captain Syrinx, my compliments to the Oenone, I’d be obliged if you can co
nvey them to Cadiz for me.”
Now this is real flying, Oenone said excitedly.
Syrinx concealed her own delight at the voidhawk’s enthusiasm. “Of course, Admiral.”
Samual Aleksandrovich cancelled the AV projection. He felt the same kind of anxiety that had beset him the day he turned his back on his family and his world for a life in the navy. It came from standing up and taking responsibility. Big decisions were always made solo; and this was the biggest in his career. He couldn’t remember anyone sending close-on eight hundred starships on a single combat assignment before. It was a frightening number, the firepower to wreck several worlds. And by the look of him, Motela was beginning to acknowledge the same reality. They swapped a nervous grin.
Samual stood up and put out his hand. “We need this. Very badly.”
“I know,” Kolhammer said. “We won’t let you down.”
* * *
Nobody in Koblat’s spaceport noticed the steady procession of kids slipping quietly down the airlock tube in bay WJR-99 where the Leonora Cephei was docked. Not the port officials, not the other crews (who would have taken a dim view of Captain Knox’s charter), and certainly not the company cops. For the first time in Jed’s life, the company’s policy meant that things were swinging his way.
The spaceport’s internal security surveillance systems were turned off, the CAB docking bay logs had been disabled, customs staff were on extended leave. No inconvenient memory file would ever exist of the starships that had come and gone since the start of the quarantine; nor would there be a tax record of the bonuses everyone was earning.
Even so, Jed was taking no chances. His small chosen tribe convened in the day club where he and Beth checked them over, making them take off their red handkerchiefs before dispatching them up to the spaceport at irregular intervals.
There were eighteen Deadnights he and Beth reckoned they could trust to keep quiet; and that was stretching the Leonora Cephei’s life-support capacity to its legal capacity. Counting himself and Beth, there were four left when Gari finally arrived. That part was pre-arranged; if both of them had been gone from the apartment for the whole day, their mother might have wondered what they were up to. What had definitely not been arranged was Gari having Navar in tow.
“I’m coming, too,” Navar said defiantly as she saw Jed’s face darken. “You can’t stop me.”
Her voice was that same priggish bark he had come to loathe over the last months, not just the tone but the way it always got what it wanted. “Gari!” he protested. “What are you doing, doll?”
His sister’s lips squeezed up as a prelude to crying. “She saw me packing. She said she’d tell Digger.”
“I will, I swear,” Navar said. “I’m not staying here, not when I can go and live in Valisk. I’m going, all right.”
“Okay.” Jed put his arm around Gari’s quivering shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”
“No she bloody didn’t,” Beth exclaimed. “There’s no room on board for anyone else.”
Gari started crying. Navar folded her arms, putting on her most stubborn expression.
“Thanks,” Jed said over his sister’s head.
“Don’t leave me here with Digger,” Gari wailed. “Please, Jed, don’t.”
“No one’s leaving you behind,” Jed promised.
“What then?” Beth asked.
“I don’t know. Knox is just going to have to find room for one more, I suppose.” He glared at Gari’s erstwhile antagonizer. How bloody typical that even now she was messing things up, right when he thought he was going to escape the curse of Digger forever. By rights he should deck her one and lock her up until they’d gone. But in the world Kiera promised them, all animosities would be forgiven and forgotten. Even a mobile pain-in-the-arse like Navar. It was an ideal he was desperate to achieve. Would dumping her here make him unworthy of Kiera?
Seeing his indecision, Beth stormed: “Christ, you’re so useless.” She rounded on Navar, the nervejam suddenly in her hand. Navar’s smirk faded as she found herself confronting someone who for once wasn’t going to be wheedled or threatened. “One word out of you, one complaint, one show of your usual malice, and I use this on your bum before I shove you out of the airlock. Got that?” The nerve-jam was pressed against the end of Navar’s nose for emphasis.
“Yes,” the girl squeaked. She looked as miserable and frightened as Gari. Jed couldn’t remember seeing her so disconcerted before.
“Good,” Beth said. The nervejam vanished into a pocket. She flashed Jed a puzzled frown. “I don’t know why you let her give you so much grief the whole time. She’s only a girly brat.”
Jed realized he must be blushing as red as Gari. Explanations now would be pointless, not to mention difficult.
He pulled his shoulder bag out from under the table. It was disappointingly light to be carrying everything he considered essential to his life.
* * *
Captain Knox was waiting for them in the lounge at the end of the airlock tube: a short man with the flat features of his Pacific-island ancestry, but the pale skin and ash-blond hair which one of those same ancestors had bought as he geneered his family for free-fall endurance. His light complexion made his anger highly conspicuous.
“I only agreed to fifteen,” he said as Beth and Jed drifted through the hatch. “You’ll have to send some back; three at least.”
Jed tried to push his shoes onto a stikpad. He didn’t like free fall, which made his stomach wobble, his face swell, and clogged his sinuses. Nor was he much good at manoeuvring himself by hanging on to a grab hoop and using his wrists to angle his body. Inertia fought every move, making his tendons burn. When he did manage to touch his sole to the pad there was little adhesion. Like everything else in the inter-orbit ship, it was worn down and out-of-date.
“Nobody is going back,” he said. Gari was clinging to his side, the mass of her floating body trying hard to twist him away from the stikpad. He didn’t let go of the grab hoop.
“Then we don’t leave,” Knox said simply.
Jed saw Gerald Skibbow at the back of the lounge; as usual he was in switch-off, staring at the bulkhead with glazed eyes. Jed was beginning to wonder if he had a serious habit. “Gerald.” He waved urgently. “Gerald!”
Knox muttered under his breath as Gerald came awake in slow stages, his body twitching.
“How many passengers are you licensed for?” Beth asked.
Knox ignored her.
“What is it?” Gerald asked. He was blinking as if the light were too bright.
“Too many people,” Knox said. “You’ve gotta chuck some off.”
“I have to go,” Gerald said quietly.
“No one is saying you don’t, Gerald,” Beth said. “It’s your money.”
“But my ship,” Knox said. “And I’m not carrying this many.”
“Fine,” Beth said. “We’ll just ask the CAB office how many people you’re licensed to carry.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“If you won’t carry us, then return the fee and we’ll find another ship.”
Knox gave Gerald a desperate glance, but he looked equally bewildered.
“Just three, did you say?” Beth asked.
Sensing things were finally flowing in his favour, Knox smiled. “Yes, just three. I’ll be happy to fly a second charter for your friends later.”
Which was rubbish, Beth knew. He was only worried about his own precious skin. A ship operating this close to the margin really would be hard put to sustain nineteen Deadnights plus the crew. It was the first time Knox had shown the slightest concern about the flight. The only interest he’d shown in them before was their ability to pay. Which Gerald had done, and well over the odds, too. They didn’t deserve to be pushed around like this.
But Gerald was totally out of the argument, back in one of his semi-comatose depressions again. And Jed . . . Jed these days was focused on one thing only. Beth still hadn’t made up he
r mind if she was annoyed about that or not.
“Put three of us in the lifeboat, then,” she said.
“What?” Knox asked.
“You do have a lifeboat?”
“Of course.”
Which is where he and his precious family would shelter if anything did go wrong, she knew. “We’ll put the three youngest in there. They’d be the first in anyway, wouldn’t they?”
Knox glared at her. Ultimately, though, money won the argument. Skibbow had paid double the price of an ordinary charter, even at the inflated rates flights to and from Koblat were currently worth.
“Very well,” Knox said gracelessly. He datavised the flight computer to close the airlock hatch. Koblat’s flight control was already signalling him to leave the docking bay. His filed flight plan gave a departure time of five minutes ago, and another ship was waiting.
“Give him the coordinate,” Beth told Jed. She took Gerald by the arm and gently began to tug him to his couch.
Jed handed the flek over to Knox, wondering how come Beth was suddenly in charge.
The Leonora Cephei rose quickly out of the docking bay; a standard drum-shaped life-support capsule separated from her fusion drive by a thirty-metre spine. Four thermo dump panels unfolded from her rear equipment bay, looking like the cruciform fins of some atmospheric plane. Ion thrusters flared around her base and nose. Without any cargo to carry, manoeuvring was a lot faster and easier than normal. She rotated through ninety degrees, then the secondary drive came on, pushing her out past the rim of the spaceport.
Before Leonora Cephei had travelled five kilometres, the Villeneuve’s Revenge settled onto the waiting cradle of bay WJR-99. Captain Duchamp datavised a request to the spaceport service company for a full load of deuterium and He3. His fuel levels were down to twenty per cent, he said, and he had a long voyage ahead.
The Night's Dawn Trilogy Page 222
