Blood and War

by Gordon R. Dickson

  "Right," said Sventur, then called out: "All officers, in my staging room. Right now. No Bunters." She glanced at the Mromrosi. "You're supposed to be there, aren't you."

  The Mromrosi was now a celery green. "Most certainly, Group Line Chief Sventur," he said, and bounded in the direction of the staging room.

  The rest were less eager to follow. Group Chief Meahama Godwendo who was in charge of all arms, armor and ammunition, requested permission to be excused so that one of them could remain on the bridge.

  "Not granted," said Sventur. "I need you with me. The Bunters can take care of the ship for a short while. They do most of the monitoring in any case. They can warn us if anything goes wrong."

  "But they might miss something," protested Group Chief Godwendo.

  "So might a human being," snapped Sventur.

  "We're in danger of attack," Godwendo persisted.

  "From more than one opponent," said Sventur. "And that's why I need you with me in the meeting. Understand?" She was already at the staging room at the rear of the bridge. "Hurry up, all officers."

  The staging room had three seals on it, and the recorder worked on circuits unconnected with the rest of the ship, making it virtually impossible to eavesdrop on what was said inside the room. As the officers arrived, they were inspected for weapons and other items, all of which were included in the locked record.

  "I don't like this," announced Parker Parkerman as he sat down on Sventur's immediate right. "Secrecy inevitably works against what we're trying to do. The mission requires communication."

  Jaan Duykster, the Executive Officer, did not agree. "We don't know why the murders are happening, or who's doing them. If there's a connection, we could make ourselves more vulnerable by maintaining contact."

  "I should think that's obvious: whoever is working for Line Commander Fayrborn is responsible," said Parkerman, his attitude growing harsh. "We know that Line Commander Fayrborn has gone over to help the Grands, so—"

  "That would mean three or four agents," the Protocol Officer, Zameda Lauy-Rei from Saint Fou, pointed out. "A conspiracy on that scale would probably be conducted in a different manner."

  "If it is a conspiracy," said Duykster.

  "And who are they working for? The Grands? The Bastan'gal? Who?" asked Beaumont. "We haven't enough information to strike back effectively. We're too pogging—"

  "We know the Bastan'gal have attacked Lontano, and that's a clear case of aggression," said Duykster. "We can start there and work the rest of it out later."

  "You pogging idiot," said Parkerman, looking frightened beneath his bravado. "All the Grands have to do is strand us here and let the Bastan'gal pick us off. They don't have to do anything more aggressive than that."

  "What makes you think they aren't doing that right now?" asked Lauy-Rei sweetly, her lean features creased with a sudden, false smile.

  Parkerman was prepared to launch into a tirade, but now Group Line Chief Sventur put a stop to it. "There is a killer on at least two of our Glavuses. There is a war on Lontano. And it seems that our Line Commander has joined the Grands in supporting the invaders. We have to prepare ourselves to deal with all these things. First, we must assume that we will receive no help from the Grands, and possibly no help from our own Petits. Second, we must assume that the Bastan'gal invaders are interested in more than raiding; that they are in the process of establishing an outpost—at the very least—on this planet. Third, we have to face the fact that there is a killer loose on two of our ships, possibly more. These three elements may all be related, or they may be coincidental." She slapped the arms of her chair. "All three troubles are real, all of them are immediately dangerous. Do any of you have any suggestions?"

  "I can't help but wonder about the Mromrosii," said Navigator Beaumont, the other Saint Founais aboard. "What is their part in this?"

  The Mromrosi bounced forward, his curls deepening to a rich raspberry shade. "We are all observers for the Emerging Planet Fairness Court. We do not take any actions unless they have been negotiated prior to the beginning of a mission. In this case, we are merely observing."

  "So you say," Duykster whispered.

  "Because it is true," declared the Mromrosi. "What reason would any of us have for increasing the danger of your predicament? We are as much a part of your mission as you are. We have as great an interest in its success as you do." He was now lighter and more vibrant, a vivid cerise that seemed too intense for the small staging room.

  "But we have only your word on that," said Duykster, more pugnaciously than before. "We have to accept members of the Emerging Planet Fairness Court aboard because you insist on it. For all we know, you aren't policing us, you're taking advantage of our isolation for the purposes of eliminating us."

  "We would do that any number of ways, and would not wait until you were at a planet to act. When we have been forced to contain aggressive species, we reach them when they are at superlight speeds, from which they never emerge in any recognizable form." He was now an interesting deep olive color, with a hint of lighter stripes.

  "Is that a warning?" asked Lauy-Rei, her temper flaring.

  "No, it is offered as useful information," said the Mromrosi, apparently taking no offence at her attitude. "So that you will not confuse our actions with the actions of your enemies."

  "Right you are," said Sventur. "So we will turn our attention elsewhere." She rubbed her forehead as if to draw out her thoughts. "I want each one of you to set your Bunters to guard you whenever you are off-duty. I do not want anyone on the ship to be without protection until we find out who the murderer is and why Petits are getting killed. And then I want to do something to save Lontano."

  "Makes sense to me," said the Navigator with a hint of a smirk.

  Sventur was not amused. "Not just because this is my home, but because we need these distant planets if we're going to work out any means for the Magnicate Alliance to use the J'zmallir Trade Routes. If we let these go—not just Lontano, but Lost Thule and End Zone and the rest of the isolated outposts—then we won't ever have the opportunity to get to the J'zmallir Trade Routes, and that will weaken the Alliance, eventually."

  "Most astute," approved the Mromrosi, his single green eye very bright. "It is unfortunate that the Bastan'gal should have decided to ignore the

  Emerging Planet Fairness Court restrictions at this time, but it appears you are prepared to deal with the trouble."

  "I hope we're able to," said Sventur. "So," she went on to her officers, "first things first. We have to do something about this planet. We have a ship down with a live crew, and they are going to need our help."

  "And there is the murderer," said Duykster.

  "We'll find out about that, later," said Sventur. "When we know where the trouble comes from."

  "From the Grands or the Bastan'gal?" asked Navigator Beaumont.

  "It depends on who shot us down," said Sventur coolly. "And that is something we all need to be aware of—we can trust only the officers on this mission. It could be that Fleet Commodore Grizmai will get our reports and act on our behalf, but I don't think we can count on it, you know?"

  "That's assuming Grizmai isn't setting us up for the Grands," said Parkerman morosely.

  "If he is, he's going about it very strangely," said Sventur. "Remember, your Bunters are to be on guard. We have to make sure that the only enemies we face for the time being are the ones outside." She sighed. "I don't know what to tell you about the other ships. I don't know who is supporting Line Commander Fayrborn."

  "You're assuming someone is," her Executive Officer said, an edge in his voice. "That isn't good."

  "No, it's not," agreed Sventur. "But we can't change it now, not while we're down here." She coded a signal. "I've set a special emergency circuit, for your use only. Circuit 17-D will carry Daichirucken signals for emergency purposes only. Even the Bunters won't have the code. Keep your com-paks with you at all times, and do not use open channels for emergencies, just this one.
Otherwise we could be turning ourselves into targets."

  "Sounds great," said Duykster. "Is that all?"

  "We better prepare to get out the crawlers and take to the hills. I don't think we can keep our skimmers safe much longer," said Sventur. "We can head back to where the Suidotal went down. Group Line Chief Hsuin is probably waiting for us. We'll make a stand there, or work out a plan of attack."

  "Unless he's been picked up, him and his crew," said Godwendo with a cynical laugh.

  "We can't find out hovering out here," said Sventur. "Ready for egress in one ES hour. Full evacuation and the ship programmed for camouflage."

  "And what about the Grands? What if we run into them?" Parkerman sounded truly upset at the prospect. "Do we surrender or what?"

  "We avoid them," said Sventur, although she hadn't any idea how they were to do it.

  The crawlers were equipped with shelters and pre-packaged food as well as enough mid-grade armor to make a short term ground campaign possible. As the five of them rolled out of the bay of the Glavus, the Bunters went about the last stages of preparing the all-terrain vehicles. All the Bunters but the Senior Bunter would travel with their human counterparts in the crawlers: the Senior Bunter would remain with the Daichirucken. The Mromrosi announced that he would accompany Group Line Chief Sventur.

  "Remember, the Yamapunkt will have its crawlers out, too. We're to rendezvous at the Suidotal, tomorrow afternoon," said Sventur as she made a last inspection of her Glavus. "If there is any delay, we must inform the Reiwald; Acting Line Commander Goriz has to know where we are and when we're ready."

  "I don't like the idea that she's staying aloft. It's too risky for us, if she comes under fire." This was the same objection that Parkerman had been making for the last hour and no one paid much attention to him now.

  "We're more apt to come under fire," Sventur reminded him as well as the others. "We're the ones on the ground." She checked the two scatter-guns that hung from her belt. "Make sure you're carrying extra ammunition."

  "Right you are," said Godwendo, who was in charge of such things. "I've loaded spares into all the crawlers. We should be able to take on a medium-sized ground force."

  "Good." Sventur could not get rid of the sense that they were truly on their own, no longer part of anything but their own unit. She looked around at the Glavus and was satisfied that it could not be easily detected from the air, for the shielding screen disguised it from visual and instrumental probing.

  They had started the mission with two hundred seventy-seven Petit Harriers to do the job, and now this company stood at forty-three; Sventur did not like the odds, but she had to accept them.

  Just before she stepped into the lead crawler, she signaled Emmelien Goriz. "We're about to set off," she said.

  "Good," Goriz answered. "We're relying on you. The Sakibuckt is going to high orbit, to monitor as much as possible. He'll be using the over-ride emergency channel, if he has to reach any of us. We're going to screen it. Praechee has some tricks up his sleeve that might help us all."

  "Wish him luck," said Sventur, thinking of what Pahnahmah Praechee could encounter in orbit—Grands.

  "Luck to you, too," said Goriz.

  "I'll report in at first light. Don't worry about silence until then." She found it frightening to be out of contact for so long, but she knew it was the only sensible thing to do.

  "Carry on, then," said Goriz, and broke their communication.

  Sventur left her Glavus for the utilitarian interior of a crawler.

  All things considered, the crawlers made good time, heading through the hills, following the signal of the downed Suidotal. All night long they trundled along, the growl of their engines loud in the open countryside, which worried Sventur.

  "Don't worry. Unless they've set up monitors for sound, it won't make much difference," said Parkerman. "I'm more worried about the Grands in orbit tracking our engine heat. They can do that easily enough." He folded his arms as he stared at the console with its limited display. "I miss the surveills," he said.

  "You'll have them again soon enough," said Sventur, looking at the contour lines that appeared, indicating that the ground dropped off steeply not far ahead. "Can we handle that?"

  "Oh, yeah," said Parkerman. "We'll rock a little coming down, but it won't be any danger."

  "Good," she said, and permitted her Bunter to persuade her to get a few hours' sleep. "Signal me if anything goes wrong, Parkerman," she said as she prepared to go to her bunk. "I'll be back in four hours."

  "I'll trade places with you then," said Parkerman, and continued to study the displays. "The link to the other four crawlers is on the left-hand recorder, by the way," he added as she started back in the crawler.

  "I'll keep that in mind," she said, feeling very tired.

  Parkerman wished her a good sleep, never taking his eyes off the monitors.

  Two hours before local sunrise, Sventur was wakened out of her very sound sleep with word that the Executive Officer of the Sakibuckt had been found murdered not ten minutes ago.

  "Simmon Marillo was discovered with a Drought Central ceremonial dagger in his back, cutting up through the kidney, nicking the aorta and puncturing his right lung," said the Communications Leader, Falmi Brere.

  "Where did the ceremonial dagger come from?" asked Sventur, trying to drag herself awake.

  "It was Marillo's. He came from Drought Central." There was a short pause. "Whoever killed him was in his quarters last night."

  "How many suspects do you have?" she asked, feeling cold in spite of the close interior of the crawler.

  "About twenty-eight," he answered. "All those not accounted for on duty are considered suspects, that's what Praechee says. We're running checks with the Bunters, to find out if anyone was noticed—"

  "What about Marillo's Bunter?" asked Sventur.

  "Disabled. Half its circuits are fried, and don't ask me how that happened. We're assuming the killer disabled the Bunter in order to reach Marillo." He cleared his throat. '"We're having real trouble with morale."

  "I'm not surprised," said Sventur. "It isn't going to cheer everyone up here, either."

  "If we knew where to strike first, we'd be okay. You'd better get something going, for the sake of the whole mission." There was a pause. "I think it's the Grands. I don't think we've got a traitor among us: the Grands have done something."

  "It's what the Grands would do," Sventur agreed. "Look how they've led Fayrborn around by the nose."

  "Yeah. Well. I'll get back to you. I have to signal the Yamapunkt yet."

  "Right you are," said Sventur, aware that she would not be able to get back to sleep. She sat up in her bunk, stretching against the stiffness of the morning.

  Zameda Lauy-Rei, in the bunk beside Sventur's, opened one eye and regarded her critically. "Not another one."

  "On the Sakibuckt this time," said Sventur. "Killed with a knife. The Executive Officer, in fact."

  Lauy-Rei propped herself on her arm. "Marillo? He's nobody's fool. It's got to be the Grands. Who else could get away with something like this?" She scowled. "Well?"

  "It could be, but how are they doing it?" Sventur got out of the bunk and grabbed her wrap. "Fayrborn said he had an ally."

  "And you think that's who's doing it?" asked Lauy-Rei.

  "I think maybe Fayrborn's figured out a way to make us think so," said Sventur, and headed off for a shower.

  By the time she finished, news of Marillo's murder had spread through all the crawlers, and comments were coming back from the others that revealed how much distress the Harriers were feeling.

  "I say we get out of here, go find a Semper and get one of them back here. I say we stop pogging around and bring in the heavies." Estienne Beaumont was emphatic. He shouted when he spoke and he was not in the mood for an argument. In the crawler immediately behind Sventur's, he took advantage of his position.

  "We can turn back. I could order this crawler to turn around, and you wouldn't fire on
us to stop us, would you?"

  "We've got a job to do first," said Sventur, refusing to get dragged into his posturing. "The Suidotal is waiting for us. Group Line Chief Hsuin is waiting for us to get him and his crew out."

  "And we rescue them while something's picking off the rest of us?" Beaumont demanded. "What's the sense in that?"

  Sventur had no answer for him, but she pointed out that they were on orders from The Hub. "Like it or not, we accepted the assignment, and we'd better do everything we can."

  The Mromrosi, who had been listening attentively, now hopped from one of his eight feet to the next, to the next, and the next. "There is a reason you have been sent here," he said, his curls a glistening silver. "This is not merely a question of invaders, or the actions of the Grands. There is another issue."

  "It looks that way," said Sventur, who was beginning to wonder if they were being manipulated by Commodore Grizmai. It made sense, she had to admit.

  "What are you up to?" growled Executive Officer Duykster as he fumbled his way out of his bunk, his image on the monitor making him look like an undersized brown bear. "What's this about murder?"

  "Another one," said Sventur, and filled in as much as she knew. "We need to find out who's doing it."

  "Togging right," said Duykster. "How many Petits will be picked off before we find out who's responsible?"

  "I don't know," said Sventur tightly. "As few as possible." She looked over at the Servo-tech working at the Bunter control. "Stepherin, I want you to check all the Bunters, make sure they're running properly, and put them on full alert. They have to stand guard."

  "But Marillo's Bunter was fried," said Stepherin reasonably. "I can't keep that from happening to these machines."

  "Maybe you can't," Sventur said, "but we can make it a lot harder for someone to break through." She acknowledged the Servo-tech's halfhearted salute. "We're going to have to pick up speed. We've got to reach the Suidotal by sundown."

  "Your orders indicated that tomorrow morning was—" protested Parkerman only to be cut short.