Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

“He's got us out on a limb. A dangerous, unstable limb,” Jules said as he eyed Reba Childress. They'd agreed to meet in O'ray's, an upscale restaurant that catered to the ultra rich. One of its biggest selling points was that it had private rooms complete with antisurveillance technology to allow its patrons the best places to talk outside a Faraday cage, enwrapped clean room.

  “What's the matter, the winds of change making sway a bit too much for you, Jules?” Reba taunted.

  “No, I'm worried about the idiot sawing it off behind us actually,” Jules replied.

  “Idiot as in …,” Reba asked.

  “Multiple idiots I should have said. That damn commodore for one. And I'm sorry, to say, your son is another. It's like he wants to watch it all burn,” Jules said with a rueful shake of his head. He knew he was on dangerous ground, but he had to get it out there and test the waters with the mama shark to see just how far she was willing to go to back her darling boy.

  “The great thing about having children is that they are disposable if the need arises. It is a simple fact of nature we tend to overlook since we think we're oh so civilized,” Reba said thoughtfully. “And yes, even I can have another if I wish. All I need is uterine pod and a couple scrapings for the doctors to use,” she said.

  “You …,” Jules stared at her, aghast at her ruthlessness. “Your own son? You'd do that to him?”

  “As I said, he is disposable. The important thing is the family goes on. I made a mistake in not having another child. I probably should rectify that soon,” Reba said. She grinned at Jules. “Care to contribute?” she asked.

  “Um, I'm, uh … married,” he said desperately. He did his best to keep the horror of the situation from leaching into his expression or voice. He still wasn't certain if she was playing with him or not.

  “So?” Reba asked.

  “And I've heard about your conquests,” Jules said. He shook his head. “As … intriguing as it is, I'll have to pass. My wife would have my gonads if I did stray.”

  Reba's eyes flashed dangerously at the rejection. “Think of what I'll do with them if you do pass,” she said coldly.

  “I think perhaps we need to get back on topic,” Jules said, “and keep this from getting too personal.”

  Reba's eyes flickered, then she adjusted her bodice and ran a hand through her hair. “Suit yourself. You don't know what you're missing,” she said with a sniff.

  “I know a lot of us were hung up on the economic issues. The polls at the time said the public wouldn't support scrapping the existing fleet and then sending a majority of the new construction, plus our sons and daughters,” his eyes flicked to her for a moment, “off to die in a war far away that means little to us. Even if Irons is the one playing the pied piper,” he said.

  “And if we allowed it to happen, we would have been screwed. The fleet and fortresses are our bread and butters. They have been the driving force keeping our companies solvent for so long,” Reba agreed. “Old news Jules, you are slipping,” she said, adjusting her blouse, and then unbuttoning a button.

  Jule's eyes strayed briefly to her and then away hastily. “Right. The um, problem being that once we downsized, the domestic people would claim victory and stall any attempt to regain what we had lost. And just scrapping the fleet and starting over is seriously cost prohibitive. To the point where it could bankrupt the economy,” he warned.

  “With no sign of outside payment for the hardware and personnel we're supposed to export,” Reba agreed. A second button was unbuttoned.

  “Um, yes, um, ah …,” Jules gulped and began to sweat slightly. “They want the money to …,” he adjusted his collar, “to use for education and other things. Which would put us out of a job as well as hundreds of thousands of our employees.”

  “Give it a rest. We both know it is the bottom line that motivates you the most Fabian,” Reba purred, getting just a little closer then resting a hand on his thigh. It slowly drifted to the inside of his legs, which he instantly snapped shut. She paused and then the hand drifted up to his hips.

  He squirmed in his seat and willed someone to interrupt. “Um … ah, my point is, what the admiral said is valid. We can make income from exporting goods. If we play our cards right, quite a lot,” he said weakly as she fluttered her eyes at him.

  “I see,” she purred, lips parting. She ran the tip of her tongue over them suggestively as her hand got to the edge of his crotch.

  “And ships, don't, ahem, um, for … um, forget them,” he said trying to move a little further away but failing. Her hand was firm and pushed down on his lap. He felt her claws graze the outside of his trousers right over three things he treasured highly.

  “So, you are saying our greatest enemy is ourselves. We took a misstep in backing my son,” Reba said as what he said started to penetrate her amorous thoughts. “And now you want to go back. Dial back the clock. If that is even possible,” she said.

  “I think if we played it right, used some good marketing, we could sell people on the idea of exporting ships and parts as an overall sound economic strategy. Create an export economy,” he said.

  She frowned thoughtfully. “Resources?” she asked.

  “We've got plenty for the time being in Bek B. We will also have all those ships we'll need to scrap. And someone will have to pay for us to do that. The breakers alone will be a lucrative if limited market,” he said.

  “And we can recondition and sell them back some of the hardware,” Reba murmured thoughtfully. She nodded. “Interesting,” she purred. Her eyes went half lidded. “See why I'm interested in you and that fine mind of yours?” she asked huskily.

  “Um … don't um, forget the civilian, um, market,” Jules said, hands clutching at the seat he was in for all his life. He wished he'd have a stroke or heart attack, pass out, anything to get out of her clutches. It wouldn't look good, but it would save him from the mess he was going to be in shortly he knew.

  Nothing else short of a Xeno invasion would.

  “Ma'am,” a voice called quietly.

  “What, Leonard?” Mrs. Childress barked, turning her head to the intercom. “I said I didn't want to be disturbed,” she growled.

  “Yes, ma'am. You are running late for your five thirty, ma'am. And Mrs. Fabian has called twice to find out if her husband is on his way home. The jamming field protecting the restaurant is blocking her calls. She sounds upset,” he said.

  “We've got a dinner date and party to attend. She was most insistent,” Jules said as he rose hastily. He adjusted his clothing.

  “Well, fine then,” Reba said with a flounce as she got up. She was clearly pouting over being thwarted. Jules sent off a mental salute to Leonard and decided to send the man something nice as a thank you in the near future. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead.

  “I suppose we'll have to table this … discussion for a later time,” Mrs. Childress said with a moue. “I bid you ado, young man. Do get the check,” she said with a wave as she rose and left.

  Jules shook his head as a waiter came in. Horny old crone, he thought. He was smart enough not to say it out loud however.

  Chapter 51

  Doctor Windswept shook her head at the lack of progress, and the quagmire which was the political arena. The High Elf was not at all happy about how things were progressing, but she knew if they came out now it would just add to the mess things were.

  It was tempting though, for their revelation would be a kick but would be quickly overshadowed by other concerns. But she couldn't allow herself the luxury of getting off the hook so easily. It was tempting though, especially since two of their number had died recently.

  She closed her eyes in pain. She was starting to have some motor control and memory issues. But nothing affected her at the moment.

  “All wrong. All wrong,” she muttered.

  Her Neodog caretaker heard that and shook her head as she finished cleaning up what little lunch the elderly woman had eaten. She, like many in their civilization, w
ere distressed by her and the other sleepers’ failing health. But there was little they could do; all of the sleepers had flat-out refused to go back into the stasis pods. They were also only accepting moderate medical care.

  She passed on what the High Elf had said softly to some of the other staff. Eventually it worked its way into the forums and media. Some took it as the sleepers’ condemnation for all the recent changes in their society.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Admiral Draken shook his head as he read the latest report. There was a lot of butt covering going on lately, and he could understand it, but he didn't like it.

  If anyone had thought that with Ilmarinen's departure things would settle down, they'd found that they'd been sadly mistaken. Childress had turned vindictive when the commodore had left. He had finished all of his old scores. He was pretty certain Childress and many of the senior staff were creating new ones. Fortunately for them, at the moment no one was ready to sacrifice their career to act on them just yet, though some would gladly stick a knife in someone else's back in order to also score on Childress he judged.

  He had become a bit scarred by the process. With Childress now in firm control of JAG, no one said anything or stepped out of line in the slightest. Even the senior staff were doing their best to toe the line and lie low.

  He privately labeled it as Childress's rule of tyranny. He closed his eyes. It couldn't last forever, even Childress hopefully, knew that. And the tighter he tried to grip the reins of control, the more people resented him. Resented him and those who supported him. That resentment meant those who supported Childress had to watch their own back … and tied them even deeper to Childress' coat strings.

  He shook his head. From the way things were running, they were screwed either way. And with the commodore in possession of orders relieving Childress of command, at least that was what the scuttlebutt said, things were going to get ugly soon.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  With news of Harmony's arrival came a leak about some of her cargo as well as the cargo of the other ship, Second Chance. That sparked a small feeding frenzy in the subcontractor, shipbuilder, and research company communities as they all vied to get their hands on a piece of what had once been near impossible to get technology.

  Some wanted the technology so bad they unleashed their lobbyists and even attempted to bribe personnel in LOGCOM. Admiral Childress was made aware of the bribery scandals when his pet JAG team alerted him. He had overlooked the potential for profit from the ships. Apparently, that hadn't occurred to those who wanted the hardware.

  It wasn't until Admiral Creator of Things patiently explained to him that the civilian ships were valuable since they didn't have the military self-destruct systems that he caught on.

  After a discussion with the senior staff, Admiral Childress had the navy put samples of the hardware up for an auction. The auction had intended to be rigged to his own supporters, but word got out to the media and it turned into a feeding frenzy. Bidding on some of the components spiraled to unheard of numbers. A few of Admiral Childress's supporters were outbid, and they were not happy about that.

  The auction wasn't without its critics however. Some in the public and private sector were not happy and made it known to the media that some of the parts were rare and in some cases irreplaceable. Petitions began to be circulated on the internet demanding that instead of selling the parts the navy instead used them to refit the old starships and reopen interstellar trade with Nuevo and B-102c.

  The merchant houses that ran shipping in Bek A and B also got involved. A few saw the hyperdrives as a boon to expand their markets, an economic windfall for them to move high value cargo in a short but highly efficient manner. Others saw it as a threat.

  When they started to get involved, Admiral Childress was called into a meeting by his civilian backers to discuss the situation. He wasn't happy about being called out onto the carpet about it. “I still don't have any more information about the other ship, so before you ask, I don't know. And no, I don't know if it will show up. And if it does …,” Admiral Childress shrugged. “You've all seen the media and how they are all over this. I can't slip you something from that load. They are watching us like hawks.”

  “Unacceptable,” Ch'k'n'll buzzed in annoyance.

  “It is what it is,” the admiral said with a shrug. “You'll get your chance. We'll keep you in the loop information-wise. We'll do what we can to stack any auction in your favor, but you have to understand, we can't be too overt about it,” he said.

  “We need starships, Omar. I trust you understand when I say that. And that I say we have … changed our stance on the subject,” Reba Childress said, eyeing her son.

  “We're doing what we can,” her son said with a scowl. He was smart enough not to glower at his mother.

  “We were promised this would happen. It hasn't. What is the holdup? More tech for us to figure out I assume?” Jules Fabian stated, eyeing the two Childress's. He decided to play dumb and play out the game they were in for the moment.

  “Actually, you were promised that we would stall or prevent this from happening,” Admiral Draken stated. All eyes turned to him. “Had we all followed Admiral Iron's plan, we would be there by now.”

  “But we wouldn't be in control,” Jules said. “So, we are now, we've seen the potential … I've got the merchant houses lining up and begging for parts! I know you are too,” he said, shooting Reba a look. She nodded once. “So, it can't be that hard, can it?”

  “We've only been trying off and on for what, six or so centuries?” Admiral Draken retorted.

  “But now that we've got the blueprints …” Jules said. “We can do it, right?”

  “Yes and no. We've got problems creating some of the tech. A lot of it relies on that damn nanotech that we don't want,” she said. A few people around the table shivered. “Our R&D teams are working on ways around it,” Mrs. Childress stated mildly. “For the moment, the samples we have from Caroline and from the recent arrivals are all we have. Those that the navy kept or we bought at any rate,” she said with a shake of her head. “I still think you should have turned the samples over to the R&D companies instead of selling them on the open market. You know some of those idiots are really trying to use them, right? Plug them into their sublight ships?” she shook her head. “Idiots.”

  “Agreed. But we can't take them back now. As for the samples …,” Admiral Draken grimaced.

  “What Sherman is alluding to is that we used a lot of those samples in Ilmarinen,” Admiral Childress said sourly, shooting a moderate glower to Admiral Draken. The red Chimera shrugged the look off.

  “I don't see what the big deal is. Like we want to send our people and hardware to somewhere else. What sort of compensation are we going to get out of that?” Ch'k'n'll demanded acidly. “Bubkis, that's what!” he said, throwing a disgusted truehand up into the air before he let it fall. “Mark my words; this is a fool's goal, plain and simple. We'll get burned.”

  “You mean the tax-payers will get burned since they are paying for it. So what do we care if it doesn't work out long term?” Jules said with a shake of his head.

  “You just like it because you can produce gear here and sell it to me at three times the price it costs to make it,” the Veraxin accused.

  “Guilty,” Jules replied with a grin. “And you'll turn around and charge the military three times that price. So you are just as guilty as I am,” he reminded the bug.

  “With hyperdrives we can send ships back and forth to Bek B in next to no time,” Mrs. Childress explained patiently.

  Jules turned to her, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the matriarch. “I've heard sales pitches before. Okay, I'll bite. And next to no time means …?”

  “Sorry,” Reba said with an airy wave of her hand. “I thought you could do the math. Apparently, I was wrong,” she said. Jules stiffened at the slight. “I mean within a day. A day transit one way, just like Ilmarinen did last year. I don't have the numbers in fron
t of me. The biggest problem is we don't have the trained personnel to manage such short hops. We'd probably have to do a zig zag course out and then back to be able to handle it, at least initially. Once we get the right people trained, we might be able to handle short hops.”

  “And who knows, we get our people good enough we can get them to try the rapids,” Ch'k'n'll mused. “The real markets are out there, beyond the rapids. Nuevo is a dead end.”

  Jules looked at him in alarm. “You're not serious!”

  “I am. They won't be able to handle the high bands of course, at least not right away. I've never bought into the whole dependency on water dwellers,” the Veraxin said scathingly. “I think if you take it slow enough, in the low octaves of alpha band, we can do it.”

  “Sir, the derelicts in B-102c are proof that plenty of people tried and failed,” Admiral Draken pointed out carefully.

  Ch'k'n'll waved a dismissive truehand. “That was then. With the right equipment, I am certain we can manage something.”

  “Um …”

  Admiral Childress glared at his subordinate. “It doesn't hurt to try,” he said with an edge of anger and warning in his tone of voice.

  Admiral Draken bit back a retort. “Yes, sir.” He didn't add that yes it would hurt those involved if they failed. And the loss of the ship and crew would be a financial drain, not to mention a black eye to the administration, both those in the political arena and those in the military one. But obviously this was a point where he had to shut up and be a good sailor. They wouldn't be on the damn ship he thought.

  “Fine then. Moving on to the next point on our agenda …,” Reba said, adjusting the hem of her skirt.

  Her son took the hint immediately and nodded. “Yes ma'am …”

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Admiral Childress initially wanted to let the hoopla die down before he made a decision about the ship. He was still in something of a state of shock that they'd pulled it off. The news that the Harbor Station was ready for use bothered him.