Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3)

by Russell Redman

  He climbed in with an Imperial security agent, who examined our suits. “They are fully conscious. Why are they not presenting their own documents?”

  Sa’id replied, sounding exasperated, “Why should people on the brink of death have to? Just getting off the Moon is more strain than is reasonable. The endless demand for documents that do not yet exist is killing us, literally.

  “And why are the two of us arguing about it? We both know those documents will not be available until next week sometime, no matter what they say. Would you co-sign a formal complaint about these ridiculous regulations? I am getting so tired of useless disputes with people who are my co-workers when all that is really missing is the good sense not to require documents that do not exist.”

  The agent scowled and grumbled to herself but a few minutes later agreed, “Yes, I would sign that complaint. Maybe they will pay attention if it comes from two services. They ignored my last protest. I am not sure they realize we have no access. I will bet the documents do exist in the Directorate offices, just not for those of us who need them. We should recycle half the damn bureaucracy.”

  I think she would have spat if she did not have a helmet on. She climbed back out and we rolled on into the port. There were two more stops, briefer and less obviously contentious, but after the last one, Sa’id refused to speak to us.

  At last, we disembarked into a waiting room decorated with bland, medically green walls. The attendant laughed thinly, “So, our last passengers have finally arrived. I was beginning to think you had reconsidered. I would if I were you.

  “I don’t envy any of you going to the Earth right now and only hope you make it intact. I don’t trust Wolong’s amnesty, nor his promise to resume trade, nor much of anything else. Good luck and good shooting.”

  To Nuts/private, “Trade?”

  Nuts to Mindy, Me/private, “We are travelling with a party of TDF officers and contractors returning to the Earth, escorting the first convoy of freighters in over a month between the Moon and the Earth. There has been no public announcement, in the hope that pirates won’t notice the convoy before we are underway. Fat chance! It has assembled near Outer in full view of everyone. Mindy figured it out right after trade with L1 and L2 resumed. The only question was which convoy to take. We had really wanted to be on the second one, next week.

  “This convoy, being first, will be an obvious target to anyone who is looking. We will be well protected, but they might still fire from a distance. We will have very low average acceleration while escorting the freighters but may need harder bursts to fend off pirates, factions and demented crews. Our biggest concern, of course, is that the agreement to accept the convoy may be a ruse in some larger scheme to discredit Fenghuang. The crew do not know who they have as passengers, so there are a few fairly obvious activities you should avoid scrupulously until we reach the ground.”

  Yes, obvious activities like almost everything I had done since arriving on the Moon, especially talking to other people.

  Ten minutes later we got the all clear to commence boarding. Sa’id walked beside our wheelchairs, still flat as gurneys, out the gangway into the lighter. We were clipped and strapped firmly into position, while our fellow passengers found their assigned seating and relaxed back. We were spared the ten-minute safety lecture and relaxation therapy that was a mandatory part of civilian launch procedures; this was a TDF lighter leaving a TDF facility and we knew what to expect.

  Except for Mindy who was only imitating a TDF officer. I asked her by comm if she was comfortable and able to relax. The answer was a curt, “no,” so I recited the safety drill from memory, modified for the military gear available in an emergency. By the time I was finished, the lighter was riding the elevator to the surface and one of the other officers had started the tactical display overhead.

  There were a lot of ships in orbit, mostly in a large convoy off to the west that had gathered in a tight group around Outer. I recognized the ships that had dropped goods on the Moon and taken on new cargo. A few may have been outbound again to L1 and L2, several more to the factories in Leading and Trailing, but most were in the convoy headed for the Earth. I had imagined that trade would restart with a convoy of five or ten freighters escorted by two or three warships, but this convoy included forty-five freighters and was being escorted by a dozen TDF and forty Imperial warships.

  In the middle of them was the TDF battleship Mao. I blinked at that until I realized it could not be the rebuilt hulk of the old Mao. The new battleship that had been ready for operational trials must have been given the old name and I would guess most of the old crew.

  Nuts to Mindy, Me/private, “The new Mao is our noble steed. They sat just outside the Oaxaca Construction dock while they debugged the laser and rail gun control systems but never fired them. They doodled around nearby to test the engines but have never tried them at full power. It looks pretty, but we don’t know if anything really works. Right now, it is a big bus carrying passengers returning to the Earth. You will like the paint scheme when we get close enough to see it. And Mindy, please, no aggressive moves this time?”

  She tittered, but it was tight and short, a reaction to the tension rather than honest humour.

  The tactical display showed us in sequence for launch after lighters bound for Oaxaca Construction at Leading, the lunar L4 complex. We held below the surface as three other ships climbed away from the Moon and their cloud of launch debris settled back to the surface. The elevator lifted us to launch position, the clock ticked down, and the external monitors showed us lifting off. We barely made 2-G, the gentlest launch I had ever felt leaving the Moon on a TDF ship. Even so, Mindy groaned with pain.

  Unlike the other ships, we were attacked three times as we crept into the sky, twice by small missiles that came streaking in from the side and were destroyed easily by lasers from the base. The third time was a laser attack from one of the Imperial ships in orbit. The hull-breach alarms sounded and airtight doors slammed shut throughout the ship but we passengers were in armour, unconcerned about air loss. The attacking ship was immediately struck by a laser from a TDF warship that disabled their laser. Other Imperial ships fired rail guns that destroyed their engine and dispatched transports to arrest the crew. The attacks were irrational and ineffective, like so many we had seen. I was not listening to the comm but some of our fellow passengers were. They loudly, contemptuously, denounced the worthless officers who could not control their own ships and wondered whether the offenders would be punished or rewarded.

  It took a real effort to keep quiet. I had been willing to believe that the attacks as we approached the Moon were due to the turbulence of the time, but the difference between our flight and the preceding three made that fantasy impossible. Someone knew this ship was special. Quite likely, that someone was far away from the ship that fired on us, safe from arrest while their emoji-demented puppets took the blame.

  As we drew closer, a window popped up showing the new Mao. A murmur ran through the room. I heard, “Where is it?” and felt much the same. On one side of the image I saw a grey rectangle that might have been the meteor shield but where the rest of the ship ought to have been I could only see stars. Then I saw a star wink out and a moment later another appeared. Watching the stars, I could trace a rectangular outline behind the meteor shield.

  Nuts/private, “How do you like the paint job? They smoothed the outer hull and sprayed aluminum vapour instead of regular paint, turning it into four enormous mirrors. There are a few sparkles from corner reflections and it still absorbs about one percent of the light, a few percent in the UV and radio, but the cross section at all wavelengths longer than X-rays is reduced to less than five percent of what a normal battleship would have. It will be even smaller when they finish the cones that will cover the meteor shield and engines. It is the first battleship where the energy budget includes significant heating to keep people warm inside. Any excess heat will have to be radiated with the exhaust through the cone on the st
ern. On a long coast, the ship will almost disappear. I expect Haliru intends something similar for the ANGEL and Lonely Watch but will have to apply the coatings in flight. New FAS and Boomerangs will be even better.”

  I had never seen close-up images of the ships in the stealth fleet nor of the silver-plated pirate ship but I expect they would have looked like this. I had to admire the beautiful sleekness but wondered how long it would last under micrometeor bombardment or the scorching of battle. Besides, aluminum sublimated in a vacuum. They would have to refinish the ship every few years. Not my job and someone smarter than me was undoubtedly working on it.

  Me/converse, “I thought there were supposed to be big, black patches painted on the sides, imitating a glue bug attack?”

  Sa’id/private, “Maybe later, or maybe Haliru persuaded them that it would be a dumb idea for fighting warships. I gather he had a lot to say that no one is willing to repeat. The ID is still painted on the port side that we cannot see right now. They must be discussing that since there are legal complications for ships that cannot be identified by sight. The transports are also going to be an issue because they have not been stealthed to match and have lots of square corners that will reflect radar very strongly. Until they are redesigned, they are going to be ugly, dark blisters on the side of a beautiful, shiny box. The first publicity photos were made without transports and have the Earth or Moon reflected off one side, remarkable images.”

  As we approached, the ID came into view and lights blinked on near the docking ports, which were exposed when two reflective panels swung out of the way.

  Across the room, I heard, “Damn, they got that one before their laser was properly deployed. One of the Imperials apparently knew what to look for and got their shot away just as the traitor was preparing to fire. Haaah, the Cap of the rebel ship is pleading for help – says the Wep tried to fire without authorization and some of the crew are in mutiny. Says they are under an emoji attack. It is one of Wolong’s, supposedly come to escort the convoy to the earth stations. The Cap is begging for the LE token. And, their comm just turned off. I think I heard about that trick somewhere before.”

  A round of snickers rolled through the room, but I feared for the Cap’s life if Wolong took the request for the LE token as mutiny.

  Sa’id/private, “He won’t get the LE token. The Admiralty is distributing its own version, with an emoji set tailored for each branch of the fleet. I doubt Wolong will tolerate Fenghuang’s version but the desperate Cap might. There are three transports on the way to arrest the offenders. Hopefully, they will take the token and perhaps a shaman or healer with some experience treating demented officers.

  “I believe that Officer Baintree is going to be working with the Directorate of Security to design a new emoji set that will meet the command requirements of the Imperium, while also being useful for calming distressed crew members. Even we might get the latter set. It would be easier than pinning down a demented officer while telling them to turn off their comm unit.”

  It was good to know, but Officer Baintree was behind me. The Moon was almost behind me. With luck, the ministers and Hope University people would soon be outbound to the Belt, behind me. I had done what I could for them, more than I should have. I could only hope they had the wit and strength of character to face the disaster that was still rushing towards them.

  For myself, it was time to look forward without those distractions. I could focus on my physical recovery and search for a way into the Hellgate. For that, I would have to stow the rest of the Banshees in a safe place where they could make indirect contact with the Terrestrial Council. I needed to keep them productively busy, especially Leilani. She, more than anyone else, threatened the Mission because the Cripple would not, could not, let go.

  The new Mao was now huge on the screen, which reminded me of whales below the surface of the ocean and of elephants (in the room). In the room? What room? Checking back through all my personae, only the Student remembered that there had been an old English expression about the elephant in the room that no one would discuss. Since there were very few elephants left on the Earth, the expression was often used in the negative, an elephant that was not in the room but should have been and no one would talk about its absence. But what was I missing that was so big it should have been obvious? Or was a huge absence, too delicate to mention?

  When it hit me, it was so obvious I nearly laughed out loud and suppressed it so hard I choked.

  Sa’id/private, “What happened? Everything alarmed, then cleared.”

  To Nuts, Mindy/private, “Answering a Nutty question, nothing is wrong and that is what just made me choke.”

  Mindy/converse, “You are being enigmatic again. Can you strain hard enough to be a little more explicit?”

  Me/converse, “It is a question of elephants that are and are not present in the room, elephants that no one wants to mention. Mindy, elephants are huge animals. Look them up when we get to the Earth.

  “We are in the middle of a convoy of freighters ready to restart trade with the Earth, guarded by ships from every fleet near the Moon. It takes a long time to organize so many ships, especially the ones that came from L1 and L2. Those ships began to arrive almost immediately after the Directorate of Commerce was announced and I see that most of those ships are part of this convoy. Warships can make that passage in a day, but loaded freighters normally take weeks. They required a military escort to get here through the pirates, yet no one mentioned they were on the way while Wolong’s blockade was still in force. Somebody knew the convoy was going to happen almost as soon as Forward Command arrived. This convoy is the elephant in the room and how it got here is what no one wants to discuss.

  “The elephant that is not in the room is the battle that should be in progress but is not. Wolong’s warships are helping to guard a convoy that should not exist. Our escort must have been organized weeks ago as well. These ships are not the ones Wolong was intending to use in his attack on the Moon, which were in completely different orbits. What is happening?”

  Nuts/converse, “Governments are big and know more than their leaders about what needs to be done. There is also a lot more comm traffic between the Earth and the Moon than either Viceroy is ever told about, including some truly scurrilous gossip. The Ministries of Commerce on both planets have been working with Forward Command to prepare this convoy ever since pirates defecting from the Viceregal fleets shut down trade. On the Earth, everyone except Wolong knows that trade must resume, if only so everyone can earn enough to eat again.

  “You will find, if you check, that aside from yahoos and pirates, the TDF and Imperial fleets have not shot at each other in earnest since the Imperium arrived. The Columbia was a bit of a special case. The offending ships were not under control of the central commands if we take their statements at face value. Not to excuse what they did, but we were also less than honest about what was happening. It is terrifying to think of how different things might have been if we had fought Forward Command as it approached the earth stations.

  “A scurrilous rumour that I don’t believe illustrates the disconnect within the Imperial Government. It claims that Wolong is served every meal on plastic plates by naked women, who stay to play with him as he eats. That is the limit of his understanding of where food comes from and what is required to prepare it. By contrast, Fenghuang was so fascinated by the takeout restaurant that she has been touring farms, processing plants, and transportation facilities in every city she visits. She insists on sampling meals from randomly chosen restaurants en route. I invite you to consider which Viceroy has scandalized zer staff more completely.”

  Mindy/converse, “Plastic plates? Has anyone told him they are the cheapest things available and are recycled after every use?”

  Nuts/converse, “I remind you that I don’t believe any rumour that purports to come from inside his harem walls, but no, and no one would want to. The plastic plates might even be true. His family surely used gold, silver and titani
um, while less exalted families used stainless steel. Plastics might delight him as exotic. I gather they change the pattern in the plastic every day and pretend the plates are one-off specials in his honour.

  “The second scurrilous rumour is that right now Wolong is distracted by a cold. His directors are taking the opportunity to propose critical actions that he approves without reading. The poor fool has never been sick for a day in his life and thinks he is dying. He is so suspicious of poison that he has refused the meds his doctors offered. What should have been two days of sniffles is progressing through a full two-week course of sore throat, runny nose, coughing and bed rest.

  “The same rumour says that is why the convoy is moving now. He approved the plan without reading it and may have approved his Directorate of Commerce to handle all future trade relations. If no one ever mentions it, he will probably never notice. I hope the rumour is true because it would be a major step forward.

  “Unfortunately, a different director took the opportunity to authorize a raid on the Moon using their existing agents, searching for the Sultan Mustafa. They seem sure he is the same as the Ghost. Oldman is one of their kill-on-capture suspects. A TDF detention centre is as good a place for Ghost hunting as any.”

  Mindy/converse, “Him? Impossible. He knows self-defence, but I have never met a gentler, more considerate, more forgiving man. However willing I was, I believe the Sultan Mustafa provoked my attack on the Mao. Oldman certainly did not do that. It makes no sense at all.”

  I could think of no reply, so I remained silent, watching our final approach to the new Mao with our lighter mirrored by its surface. It was true that the single greatest threat I faced was confusion between the Sultan Mustafa and the Ghost. The Ghost was to be arrested for public execution. The arresting officers might kill me to claim the glory but would be defying orders if they did. They would assassinate the Sultan Mustafa immediately as an existential threat. I had to avoid a premature assassination at any cost to myself and my team. Any cost except Leilani.