Harry Heron Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  “Or I!” Harry retorted. “And I could not avoid his eye without being disrespectful to our Admirals or the Captain.”

  “I don’t think that rule applies anymore, Harry. And, even if it does, in these circumstances I think you’ll be forgiven.”

  “Harry.” Niamh finally managed to work her way to his side. “What a squeeze this is. I’ve been trying to work my way over here since we arrived. You look splendid — and we’re all so proud of you.” She waved a hand at the press of visitors and officers. “I’m so jealous of all these people who’ve had your attention until now.”

  Harry smiled. “Good evening, Aunt Niamh, I wanted to come over, but you were surrounded by such important people I decided to play safely away from where I could get into trouble.”

  “I noticed,” she retorted with mock anger. “And Ferghal too by the look of him. Look at him over there — he looks guilty.”

  Harry laughed. “He probably is. We are under strict orders to mingle and not monopolise a single guest — and we both know that Ferghal is yet ill at ease in this sort of company. Perhaps we should rescue him. That guest has held his company for a while now.”

  “I recognise the man,” Niamh replied. “He’ll stick to you too if you go near him. Leave this to me — I’ll rescue Ferghal.”

  Harry watched in admiration as Niamh sailed over to where Ferghal, his expression that of a trapped rabbit, was monopolised by a large and florid-faced man. Ferghal had several times attempted to excuse himself, thwarted on each occasion by his companion insisting on his explaining some new facet of his seemingly very important duties and activities.

  Niamh swept between them blithely declaring, “So glad you’ve met my brother’s ward, monsieur, but I must steal him away from you for a moment. I simply have to introduce him to our Cultural Secretary.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Niamh,” Ferghal breathed as she steered him firmly toward the opposite side of the space. “Is he always like that?”

  “Yes.” She laughed. “Crashing bore. Now,” she inserted herself into a smaller group and said, “Niall, I’d like to introduce you to my brother’s ward. He’s a fine musician, and you should see him dance. This is Ferghal O’Connor, everyone,” she said, and in a conspiratorial tone she added, “and I’ve just rescued him from the clutches of Monsieur Le Roux”

  The man guffawed and clapped Ferghal on the shoulder. “You’re well rescued from that one then. I’m delighted to meet you at last. What is your preferred instrument?”

  With Ferghal safely delivered, Niamh looked around for Harry and saw him engaging a smartly dressed woman in conversation, the wife of one of the senior ministers. With a glow of pride, she moved to join another party, as Harry was clearly adept at navigating these sorts of social occasions. His old-fashioned manners and courtesy served him well.

  The dinner passed without interruption or incident, a fact that could be put down to the rigid application of long tradition, old-fashioned courtesy and protocol. The President’s speech was broadcast live, as were various responses, as well as the C-in-C’s message to the Fleet, which in reality was a subtle message to the politicians listening to him.

  Later, in James Heron’s quarters, the Grand Admiral raised a glass of Irish whiskey with Theo, Niamh and his host. “Tomorrow we will see. The Artemis and her escort have been signalled and will arrive in lunar orbit at twelve hundred Earth Standard. Here’s to a satisfactory conclusion.”

  “I’ll drink to that!” The C-in-C drained his glass. “Time I hit the sack. All this diplomacy tries my patience no end. I take it everything is ready for the signing ceremonies tomorrow.”

  “It is. The signing will be staged in the hangar bay we’ve just dined in. I’ve also taken a few precautions. All ships, except this one, will be at action stations when the Artemis arrives — just in case. They will stand down as soon as the document is signed.”

  “I agree, no sense in not expecting the worst.” The C-in-C stood up. “I’ve arranged for the President to return to this ship an hour before they arrive. I want him aboard something that can fight back if there is any treachery.” He added, “He will arrive aboard an ordinary launch, and there should be a minimum of ceremony. The fewer that know he’s aboard the better.”

  “Mr. Heron, Commander Petrocova wants you in her office pronto,” said the Navigation Officer.

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Harry gathered his note pad and pens and stood up, wondering why the Executive Commander had not used her comlink to call him. He made his way to her office and met Ferghal hurrying in the same direction.

  “What brings you here?” he asked. “I cannot think of any sin we may have committed at dinner last night that would occasion our summons.”

  “Nor I, but I think we shall soon hear of it. You go first, and I shall hide behind you if she is cleared for action.”

  Harry grinned as he keyed the door signal and stepped in as it slid open. “You sent for us, ma’am?”

  The Commander waved them to seats. “I want you to shift to Dress Uniform and assist the President’s Staff in the signing ceremony. You’ll have authority to provide anything they want at a moment’s notice. I didn’t call you on your links since those can be intercepted, and we don’t want too many people to know that the President is coming aboard unannounced in an hour. You must be in the landing bay to meet him. The Admirals and the Captain will be there with a small guard. Make sure you are there in time.”

  Saluting, the pair hurried to their cabins and set about changing uniforms, arriving in the landing bay at the same time as the Captain and his party. A few minutes later, the Admirals joined them.

  “The launch is leaving the yacht now,” the C-in-C announced. “It will be here in a few minutes.” He looked around. “We’ll take him straight to the Battle Command Centre. He can watch the arrival of the Artemis from there.”

  Chapter 36 — The Provider Speaks

  The flurry of activity as the launch arrived and the VIP passengers disembarked kept Harry and Ferghal busy with the sometimes conflicting demands of the President’s staff and their lack of familiarity with the ways of the Fleet and its structures.

  “This is impossible,” a petulant aide complained. “There are too few workstations for our needs.”

  “What is it you require, sir,” Ferghal asked politely. He kept to himself the thought that if there were enough workstations for his Admiral to command a fleet from here, there were enough for this self-important popinjay.

  “I need to have at least three workstations so that I can keep the news media briefed and ensure the presidential hotlines are open to Brussels, Strasbourg and the other Confederate capitals! And must we have this display on all the time?”

  Ferghal checked his temper and said, “Step this way, sir. This console has four hundred comfeeds. If you would be so good as to inform ComOp Hodges what channels are essential to your needs, she will supply them for you.”

  Harry found himself fielding a barrage of similar complaints, most of them from an aggressive young woman.

  “Haven’t you people any consideration?” she demanded, launching into yet another tirade. “This display might make the President uncomfortable.”

  “I beg pardon.” Harry’s patience was wearing very thin. “How might it do that?”

  “This sensation of being suspended in space,” she snapped. “It’s terribly uncomfortable — anyone who suffers from vertigo would be sent into a panic attack. Why can’t it be turned off?”

  “Does the President suffer from vertigo?” Harry asked politely. “If so, I’m sure we could make other arrangements, but then he will not be able to see everything or to communicate as readily as he can from here. If it were shut down, he would not be able to see the arrival, nor would the Admirals.”

  “Of course he doesn’t.” She hesitated, changing her approach. “But there aren’t any seats near him, which means I can’t sit down where I can be on hand if he wants me to advise him
on something.”

  Harry saw the light. This young woman obviously felt overawed by the Command Centre and had to make her status clear. “I shall have a seat brought in for you immediately. Will you require anything else?”

  A deep voice interrupted them. “Mr. Heron?”

  Harry turned to face the President, surprised yet glad of the distraction.

  “I believe you have a constant link with the AI that runs this ship. Is that how you sabotaged the Consortium’s project on Lycania?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.” Harry kept his face neutral, not sure as to the motive behind the question.

  “You’re the man that broke the Alien-Human Relations Protocol?” the aide interrupted.

  “I beg your pardon?” Harry frowned. “What protocol is this?”

  She bristled visibly and opened her mouth to reply when the President cut her off. “That will do, Anita. Your concern for the Protocol does you credit, but, as I have told you before, it is an unrealistic ambition. Perhaps if you and your sponsors had some real experience of trying to survive in a hostile and alien environment, you would rethink some of your ideals.” To Harry he said, “Is it possible for you to use your ability to show us some of what you learned of Planet Lycania?”

  Harry thought for a moment. “Yes, sir, I can do that. Perhaps I can also, if it please you, prove to Mistress Anita that far from being a primitive society that we have corrupted, the Canids and their Provider are a highly intelligent and advanced race who taught us much more than we taught them.”

  “Give us the information on the activities you sabotaged,” the President replied. “Once we have that, anything you can give us on these Canids will be welcome.”

  “If you will permit me a moment with my Admiral, sir, I shall seek access to the information you require.” Harry bowed in acknowledgement of the President’s assent and moved to where James Heron was watching the scan displays. “Sir, I need your consent to comply with a request from the President.”

  The Rear Admiral studied Harry quizzically, “My consent to obey an order from the President? Why?”

  “Sir, to comply I will need to speak to the Canid’s AI known as the Provider, and I will need to use the hyperlinks to do so. That will give the Provider access to this ship’s AI. I do not believe it will compromise our safety or the ship’s security, but I believe I must seek your consent before doing so.”

  “You’re absolutely correct on that!” The Admiral frowned. “How do you know this alien won’t corrupt our systems or disable them? What if it has changed sides and is working for the Consortium now?”

  “I don’t know that, sir, but I am certain we may trust the Provider, and based on my experience with the Canids, I doubt they will ever ally themselves with the Consortium. I cannot explain the significance at this time, but it has something to do with the Siddhiche. I do not fully understand how they’re involved, but it seems they caused the Provider and the Canids to develop as they have, and they had some hand in what happened to Ferghal and me. The Provider told me more than once that we were bound by their connection with the Siddhiche, a link, as it were.”

  The Admiral thought for a moment. “Very well, do what you need to do — but make sure you can shut down the hyperlink emitters if you have to.”

  “Thank you, sir. I shall need to use the ship status display screen to show the President the information he requests. There will be no other disruption.”

  “Do what you must,” said the Admiral.

  Harry linked to the ship’s AI. “Vanguard, open a hypercom link to the Provider on Lycania, if you please.”

  There was a brief pause. “Link established. What do you want from there, Harry?”

  “Let me speak directly to the Provider, please.”

  “You have sought us, Harry,” said the Provider.

  “Yes, I have need of your help to retrieve the record of what our enemy, the Consortium, was doing on your planet. As you know, the AI concerned was not linked to the hypercom emitter after our interference, but now I need to speak to it.”

  “I can provide that link.” There was a pause. “You work through a new and interesting mind in orbit above a beautiful planet. Is this your home world?”

  “It is, but now I have my commanders and our President waiting for this information. Can we provide it? Then perhaps you can speak to them directly. There are those who think I have shown you things you should not have been shown.”

  “It is done. Show me where you want it.” There was the briefest pause. “I wish to address myself to the leader of your people. Tell me how this may be done.”

  “Vanguard, show our friend how to display this information in BCC on Display ID Niner-niner-four-zero-four.” Aloud he said to the President, “The information is now on the display to your left, sir. I am accessing all the data retrieved so that it may be recorded here. When you have finished, sir, the alien intelligence that provided us with all we needed during our campaign wishes to address you. He is simply referred to as the Provider.”

  The President and his staff clustered round the screen, astonishment, anger and then excitement evident in their expressions and exclamations. Eventually, the President withdrew slightly leaving his specialists to continue their study.

  “You said this Provider wishes to address me?”

  “It does, sir,” Harry told him. “Do you wish to have it do so publicly? I am not sure what medium it may use to do this — with me it is always a voice that I hear in my thoughts.” He smiled. “It is rather disconcerting at first, but efficient. I do not know if that may be possible for others such as yourself.”

  “Well.” The President looked thoughtful. “Shall we see what it wants?”

  “President.” The deep voice of the Provider came from the ship’s communications system, and Harry was aware of a frantic flurry of activity in the systems to isolate all but those in the Battle Command Centre. “Your people, the human race, have come to our world, some to take what they did not own and others to do your bidding. The Canid race is not as yours is, nor are you as we are. We did not travel among the stars because we did not need to. Now we have learned from our teachers, the Siddhiche, that we must do so, and we must seek your help in this. In return we will provide some of the knowledge you seek, and we ask only that we are respected as equals.”

  “I will need to consult my Ministers before we can expand on the agreement we have made.” The President showed a remarkable degree of calm. “But I can assure you we are very willing to engage with you as allies in the future.” He glanced at Harry. “Can you tell us why you assisted Mr. Heron and his people, yet you avoided revealing yourself to the Consortium and their representatives?”

  “It is the command of the Siddhiche that we help all those whom they have touched. The one known as Harry and the other called Ferghal both have the touch of the Siddhiche. Therefore, we assisted them.”

  “Did Mr. Heron and Mr. O’Connor — Harry and Ferghal — introduce you to things you had not previously known, such as how to build weapons?”

  By now the whole BCC was silent, everyone listening. “No. We had knowledge of these things, but no need to use them. We have studied your race since you first ventured near enough for us to hear you, and we have been part of the AI networks that the people you call the Consortium built on our planet.”

  “So Mr. Heron and Mr. O’Connor did show you things you didn’t know, specifically how to use those weapons,” the President’s aide interjected, glaring at Harry.

  “That is true. They also gave us the ability to speak to you and to see everything your people have done and everywhere you have been.” The Provider paused. “This contact has been to our advantage, not our detriment. Likewise, we have much to offer, just as you do, and much to gain, but this must be through mutual respect.”

  For a moment no one spoke. “So you have monitored our newscasts,” said the President. “Very well, we have other matters to settle am
ong our own people now, but we will return to this discussion at our earliest convenience.”

  “Sir.” The Scan Officer broke the stillness that followed. “The Artemis and her escort are approaching dropout.”

  “Thank you.”

  To the ship’s communication system, the President said, “How may we contact you again, Provider?”

  “I will know when you seek me.”

  The President, his staff and the Admirals watched for the Artemis and her escort to appear. Harry could sense the Provider watching and studying everything. Ferghal nodded to Harry and used his private link to say, “Here they come, and the Provider is watching too. I think we now have a new companion in everything.”

  “Aye, my friend, I have pondered this for many months now.”

  When the first bright singularity appeared, Harry announced, “Envoy ship and escort in sight, sir, bearing fine on the starboard bow.” He thought to correct himself when he realised that his audience did not grasp his directions. “I beg pardon, to your right looking ahead and about fifteen degrees above the horizontal, sir.”

  The starliner made an impressive sight as she dropped into normal space, flares showing as her braking thrusters fired. Leading her was a large starship, which Harry had no difficulty identifying as the Consortium flagship, her damage and repairs visible on the close-range scans. Behind the Artemis, another starship with eight heavy cruisers and a flock of smaller ships fanned out into a defensive screen.

  All the ships had their beacons and identification lights active as they took up their agreed positions facing the Fleet ships clustered round the Presidential yacht. Involuntarily Harry checked the deployment of their own ships and saw with satisfaction that the six starships and their cruiser groups were exactly in formation around the flagship and in optimum positions should any treachery be planned.

  “Artemis is hailing the President,” the Coms Officer’s voice broke the silence.

  Harry caught the President’s nod.