Starhold (6 page)

The lean Deputy Governor moved to the sideboard to pour two glasses of wine. He found some private amusement in the way today’s events had lifted the Lord Governor’s usually sullen mood. Ordinarily, Sheel would be pouring only one drink, and not for himself.

Accepting his libation, Cheprin eyed his reflection in the wineglass and was very pleased by what he saw. “By the way, Sheel, there’s something I want you to do for me. I need you to attend a meeting with the nanotech managers this afternoon.”

5: Currents

Planet Rusalka

Hybrias system

“Welcome to Port Bannatyne” read the massive sign as they stepped off the shuttle. The salty smell of the sea air hit them, which was to be expected on Rusalka. Over ninety-five percent of the planet was covered by water, so anywhere you went on this world the chances were good you weren’t far from the ocean. Port Bannatyne was Rusalka’s capital and largest city. Etta Sanchez and Frank Carr had completed the first part of their journey, which had begun four days ago in the office of Director Tolbert. Sanchez was fatigued from the trip. Who knew how Carr felt? He wasn’t talking much.

Two days earlier, Sanchez and Carr had met in Sarissa orbit on the Arisugawa Starport as planned and then boarded a commercial starliner. The OMI had seen fit to send its two operatives off on one of the most important missions ever in economy class. The passenger ship was filled to capacity. Sanchez and Carr were seated in the middle of a row with people on either side of them. To Carr’s left was an obese man who sat down and fell asleep almost instantly. Carr commented on how lucky he was not to have to engage in conversation, but Sanchez took this as a hint aimed at her. Frank’s luck soon changed however when the man began to snore loudly. To the right of Sanchez was a jittery middle-aged woman named Heather who had never been in space before. The woman was alternatingly nervous, then excited, then ill, then back to nervous. Sanchez didn’t know whether to feel sorrier for Heather or herself.

Traveling the seventeen light-years to the Hybrias system would have taken nearly six weeks via hyperspace, but most passenger ships moved through the linked hypergate network. Gated travel between the stars was instantaneous. The starliner would pass into the gigantic man-made structure at Artemis and then a few seconds later they would exit from another hypergate located in the Sequoya system. Due to the extraordinary expense of constructing and maintaining even a single hypergate, the Artemis star system had only two: one connected to Sequoya and the other linked to the Zavijava system. In fact, there were only ten Gates in the entirety of Union space and no system had more than two. To travel long distances, one had to jump from system to system using the Gates or take the longer hyperspace voyage.

To travel to Rusalka, Sanchez and Carr gated from Artemis to Sequoya where they changed ships, then travelled from Sequoya to the Bonaventure system. The two stayed overnight at a hotel on the Tezrina Starport, then grabbed another starliner bound for Hybrias the next morning. Most of the travel time was spent waiting as ships queued up for their turn to pass through each Gate. Military ships had first priority and with the current heightened political tensions, there was a lot of military movement. A few superfrieghters were also in the queues, but only the richest multi-world corporations chose to pay the hefty Gate fees. Most merchant ships used their hyperdrives to plod among the stars.

They arrived at Rusalka Station on the second morning of their journey and secured seats on a planetside bound shuttle. Once on the surface, at the spaceport located outside the city of Port Bannatyne, the two purchased tickets for the tramway into town. Sanchez was less than enthused to find it would take another thirty minutes to reach the hotel, because that was thirty more minutes stuck in a vehicle with Frank Carr. He had hardly spoken during the entire trip, and when he did, his comments seemed mostly designed to stifle further conversation. He became particularly testy when she tried to ask personal questions, about family and such. The Quijanan wasn’t fond of passive-aggressive types in general, let alone getting that attitude from someone with whom she was going to spend the next several months.

Port Bannatyne was a metropolitan area of about a half-million residents located along the western coast of the planet’s only continent. As they rode along the shore heading toward downtown, Sanchez observed that the water had a distinctively greenish hue compared to the seas on Sarissa, or her native world Quijano. It was caused by the abundance of phytoplankton in Rusalka’s Great Ocean. Although the local business community liked to tout Rusalka as a tourist world—“Great Adventures on the Great Ocean!”—the planet struggled to attract mainstream vacationers. Maybe the green ocean had something to do with that.

Rusalka was the most distant Union world from Sarissa and a sparsely populated planet as well. There simply wasn’t very much land for people to live on. Well over half the world’s people lived in the Port Bannatyne area. Even in this distant place, it was evident that nerves were frayed because of the attacks on Sarissan and Gerrhan outposts. Netscreens in the tramcars flashed news regarding the mysterious incidents. People on the tramway were talking about troop movements and rumors of the impending arrival of Sixth Fleet to reinforce Fifth Fleet, which was headquartered in this system. Carr actually broke his silence long enough to mutter, “There’s a new development,” toward Sanchez when he heard that piece of chatter.

Upon reaching the hotel, Sanchez grabbed a shower and put on her service blue space force uniform. Although they had traveled here in civvies, she and Carr were reporting to the local SUSF ground base after they grabbed a meal and she felt it was good form to observe protocol.

In the hotel restaurant, she was pleasantly surprised that the menu included some traditional Quijano dishes, no doubt because of the tourist trade. Hunger sneaking up on her, she ordered majao, while Carr got the broiled red thunni and a salad. Thunni was a type of native tuna-like fish, or so the server assured him. After an Old Oakfield and his salad, Carr seemed to be in a better mood.

“Food good, is it?” he asked, teasing Sanchez as she quickly devoured her lunch.

“Sorry for being a pig, but I was hungrier than I thought. To answer your question—yes, it is good. This isn’t real charque, I’m pretty sure it’s something soy, but still not bad. Besides Carr, after today we won’t be eating for over three standard weeks, so you’d better dig in.” They had come seventeen light-years from Sarissa, but there would be no hypergate transit from here to Earth. The next eleven light-years would take almost four weeks. During that time, they would go into hypersleep and let the ship’s computer pilot the vessel.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to eat when we get to Earth,” Carr remarked. “Drop me planetside and you can grab a nice big lunch onboard the ship while I scout around. I figure if you put me down about ten klicks outside the settlement that would be about right.”

Sanchez knew this argument was inevitable so she spoke up. “I’m coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Like hell you are. You’re the pilot.”

“And this ship will gather tons of intel without even setting down.”

Carr swallowed a bite of his fish. “I know, I’ve read the specs on the ship, but there’s no substitute for eyeballs on the ground.”

“So,” she countered, “two pairs of eyeballs will be better than one. We can put down, unload, and then set the ship on ground camo mode. It will stay hidden until we get back to it. No problem.”

Carr finished his fish and asked the server for the check. “Let me think about it.”

Sanchez sensed he was just putting her off, but even that was a minor victory, so she decided to take it and change the subject. “By the way, I wanted to ask you what you thought about all the talk on the tramway coming into town. You really think Sixth Fleet is headed this way?”

“Maybe. Gossip runs wild when people are edgy. Did you notice the
Vespera
docked at Rusalka Station when we pulled in? The task force is beginning to pull together. Let’s just hope none of this Earth stuff leaks out to the general public.”

Both of them sat quietly while waiting for the check. The enormity of what lay before them was unfolding in their minds as the minutes ticked closer to the mission. A trip to Earth and a possible first contact situation. The very real possibility of war, perhaps with more than one enemy. Four days ago, life seemed so much simpler.

The check came, but Sanchez postponed payment by deciding to have coffee and dessert.

“Sure you won’t join me?” she asked as she ordered a pinecherry tart. “After all, the Director’s paying.”

Carr decided to have some dessert after all—another Old Oakfield. As Sanchez dug into her pastry, she remembered something.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. After you left Bismarck’s the other day, I was confronted by an SSB inspector.”

“Let me guess,” Carr asked as he crunched down on some ice from his drink. “Little old lady, tad on the heavy side? Looked like a refugee from a knitting circle?”

“That’s the one, Inspector Humphrey. Tried to bribe me into telling her secrets. I reported it to Director Tolbert when I got back to Yancey House. She was very interested in you, Carr. I really think if you play your cards right, you could get lucky.”

Carr downed the rest of his drink in one strong gulp. “First, it’s Mumphrey, not Humphrey. Second, I didn’t think geeks like you had a sense of humor, Sanchez. Now, make me happy and tell me she didn’t get a glimpse of those briefing tablets.”

“The what?” Sanchez wavered for a tick, carefully thinking back on her encounter with the SSB matron. “No. No, I’m sure she didn’t. I grabbed them up as soon as she sat down.”

Carr gave her a long look and then a tight-lipped smile. “Good. Let’s go see about our ride.”

Sanchez swallowed the last of her dessert.
Gods, he thinks I’m an idiot.

* * * *

The SUSF base sent a groundcar around to collect them at the hotel. It was only late-afternoon local time, but with all the travel and the time changes, Carr felt like he could sleep for a week. It was one of those rare times when he was going to get his wish—times four. Frank had dressed in civilian clothes for the space force base visit. He had been in the OMI for more years than he’d been in the regular army and didn’t feel as comfortable wearing the uniform as he used to.

The base was actually a Marine training facility. Raw Marine recruits were brought here to learn the fine art of being the ‘muscle’ onboard space force ships. As the car drove through the base, Carr noticed that you couldn’t pick up a rock and throw it without hitting a drill instructor. Now he was
really
glad he hadn’t worn his army grays.

There were two
Kestrel
class stealth scouts in existence:
Kestrel
and
Kite
, and both had been delivered to this facility. Sanchez and Carr were to take
Kestrel,
while
Kite
would be delivered to Task Force 19. Both vessels were small by conventional spaceship standards. They were larger than a shuttlecraft, but not by much. On the outside, the scouts were covered with materials that made their detection by sensors almost impossible. On the inside, they were packed with sensors and fuel, as much fuel as they could carry. A crew of two could fit snugly, provided they didn’t mind bumping into each other every time they turned around. Ships like this usually couldn’t fly too far and the eleven light-years to Sol would be pushing the small craft. It was going to be a one-way mission unless Task Force 19 prevailed and was able to give them a lift home.

“Why did they fly them here and not to the orbital station?” Carr asked.

“Less of a chance of them being spotted for what they are,” grinned Sanchez. “These Marine jarheads will just see a ship. On the station, they’d have been seen by pilots. Those pilots would have figured out what the scouts really were.”

The groundcar dropped them outside a hangar where they were greeted by a space force commander. Sanchez gave a salute, but Carr opted for a handshake.

“Commander Simon Ojukwu,” the officer introduced himself. “Welcome to Camp Caspeta.” The three of them chitchatted for a while, with most of the chatting coming from Sanchez, not Carr. He noticed that Commander Ojukwu appeared uneasy and it almost seemed to Carr like the man was stalling.

“Commander,” interrupted Carr after several minutes, “we’ve travelled a long way to see you. Aren’t you going to invite us inside?”

Ojukwu fidgeted, rubbing his hands together. “Certainly, this way please, Captain Carr, Commander.” Passing several stern-faced Marine sentries, they entered the hangar to find a sleek black ship in the center of the building. Carr glanced sideways and noticed an expression of delight wash over Sanchez’s face.
Love at first sight
, he thought to himself.

Ojukwu beamed, as if he himself had conjured up the vehicle out of spare parts. “I present to you the high stealth scout,
Kite
. Isn’t she a beauty?”

The rapture on Sanchez’s face evaporated. “Where’s
Kestrel?
TF Nineteen was to get
Kite
and we were to fly
Kestrel
. Commander, it’s the wrong ship.”

“But, Commander Sanchez, they’re identical.”

“So where’s Kestrel?”
she pressed.

“
Kestrel
was requisitioned earlier today. Commander, they’re identical. I assure you everything’s in order.”

Sanchez paused to gather herself. After all, Ojukwu was a superior officer and she didn’t want to step too far over the line with him. “So,” she said in a calm voice, “I’m assuming someone from TF Nineteen came for
Kestrel
…”

Ojukwu hesitated, attempting unsuccessfully to change the subject. “Are you two with Task Force Nineteen? What’s going on anyway? Where are you guys headed? Commonwealth space I’d imagine, right?”

“Classified, Commander. Now, about
Kestrel
…”

Carr wandered over to converse with some of the mechanics while the Sanchez-Ojukwu debate was going on. He returned as Ojukwu was about to take them into the vessel and conduct a brief tour. Once inside, a little of the glow returned to Sanchez’s face. Arrangements were made to pick up the ship the next morning and lift off.

“Well,” Ojukwu said in a rushed voice, “if there’s nothing further, I’ll see you two tomorrow at zero eight-hundred hours. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” The Commander beat a hasty, almost comical retreat.

“Does the ship check out?” Carr asked.