Triumphant (Genesis Fleet, The), Page 2

  “What about regeneration? Weren’t they looking at a regrow for you?” Carmen asked.

  “Still looking.” Dominic smiled. “I can wait. There are others who need stuff grown back worse than I do.”

  “As long as you’re okay,” Carmen said.

  “What have you actually been doing, Red?”

  She sighed. “Collecting intelligence.”

  “That covers a lot of different ground. You look pretty worn-out.”

  “I’m doing my part, Domi.”

  He stayed silent, unhappy, his eyes on her.

  “I’m going to be back in Lodz in a few days,” Carmen added, trying to change the subject. “What do you want to do?”

  Dominic shook his head, still gloomy. “Maybe have some more honeymoon.”

  “That’d be nice. Domi, I’m sorry. You know who I am. You knew what you were getting when you asked me to marry you. I’m a Red.”

  “You came from Mars. But you’re not like those gangsters fighting for the invaders.” Dominic looked away. “You are a fighter. I knew that, yeah. Maybe someday you’ll tell me everything you did on Mars. Everything you did to get off that hellhole of a planet.”

  “You don’t want to know, Domi.” Carmen forced another smile. “What matters is that I made it here and found you. Hey, estimates are that the invaders are down to a couple of thousand in the areas of Ani they still occupy and the land just outside the city. They’re short on everything, and they lost another senior leader tonight. They could crack at any time.”

  He nodded, not seeming happy at the news. “How’d you hear about them losing a leader?”

  Stupid. Why had she said that? “Uh . . .”

  “That’s what I thought. Red—”

  “Don’t. Or I’ll bring up the subject of you leaving your police job to become an officer in the militia.”

  Dominic eyed her, then smiled. “We’re two of a kind, huh? Well motivated. Not too smart.”

  “Maybe too smart for our own good,” Carmen admitted.

  “Somebody has to do it. Any estimates on when the next invasion force will show up?”

  “No. We have no idea what Scatha, Apulu, and Turan might have left.”

  “We know what we have left.” Dominic pointed outward. “One warship, Shark. And a planetary militia that’s low on supplies, weapons, and people.”

  Carmen nodded. “Lochan went for help, remember? And we’re formally allied with Glenlyon now. Kosatka’s not alone anymore.”

  “It still feels pretty alone,” Dominic said. He laughed, the sound more bitter than humorous. “I was told that if another invasion fleet jumps into the star system, I’ll be jumped up the priority list for a smart prosthetic so I’ll be combat capable again. Nice of them, huh?”

  “Yeah. Nice.” Carmen had to look away this time, remembering seeing Dominic wounded, his lower leg gone, awaiting evacuation. For a moment her sight of the empty room about her was overlaid by her memories of the dimly lit basement where she’d found Dominic during the battle for Lodz, the stench of blood in the air, tired medics doing all they could, Domi himself sedated, her guts churning with fear that he might not make it. It took a major effort to wrench her thoughts away from that, to compose herself enough to smile at him once more. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  After the call ended she sat on the floor, gazing out at the vacant room, wondering what would happen and how long she and Dominic might have left together. Please don’t let us down, Lochan.

  * * *

  • • •

  Lochan Nakamura, who’d already escaped a few attempts to ensure he never reached Eire Star System, tried not to look nervous as the group he was with approached the security and customs screening at Eire’s orbital facility. His attention on the people around them, Lochan twitched in nervous surprise when the security scanner chirped as Freya Morgan walked through it.

  “Hold on.” The security detail displayed a level of cautious wariness that had become normal in recent years. The days of casual security theater done as a matter of form had disappeared as threats multiplied on the frontiers of human expansion among the stars. One officer studied a display, frowning, as two others stood back, their weapons not drawn but their postures those of someone ready to react. “Freya Morgan?”

  “That’s the name,” Freya confirmed.

  “You’re traveling alone?”

  Lochan spoke before taking the time to think. “I’m with her. On business.”

  “So am I,” Leigh Camagan said.

  The officer gazed at them, his eyes flicking to the display and back again to focus on Lochan and Leigh. “Lochan Nakamura. From Kosatka. And Alice Mary Norton from Glenlyon.”

  Leigh shook her head, tapping her personal pad. “That’s a false name to ensure I made it this far. Here’s my real identification. Leigh Camagan, minister of the government of Glenlyon.”

  “I see,” the officer replied in the tone of someone wishing that such a thing had happened on someone else’s shift. “I’ll have to ask you three to step aside,” the security officer added in a voice whose politeness now held steel under the surface.

  A fresh pair of security officers appeared to escort Lochan, Freya, and Leigh into a side room. The door locked behind them as the officers left them alone.

  “Do they really think we’re going to start talking freely just because we’re the only ones in this room?” Leigh Camagan asked, sounding annoyed. Small, sharp, and fiery, she was identified by her false travel documents as a librarian on her way to Earth. Her ultimate destination was indeed Earth, but once there she’d be shopping not for novels but for surplus warships.

  “You’d be surprised how stupid some folks can be,” Freya replied. She appeared relaxed and calm, which reassured Lochan a great deal. Supposedly a straightforward trade representative from the world of Catalan, Freya Morgan had the outward appearance of an unconcerned traveler. Only someone who looked closely would notice the way her eyes kept constant watch on everyone else, and the way her every step kept her balanced and ready to react. Lochan hadn’t learned everything that Freya was capable of, but she certainly knew a lot more about such things as improvised explosives and hacking into systems than the average trade representative.

  Lochan looked around, seeing two displays on one wall, probably placed to encourage careless conversation among those waiting here. One showed an outside view of Eire’s orbital station, including both the boxy shape of the freighter Bruce Monroe that Lochan and the others had arrived in, and farther off, the menacing barracuda-like shape of the destroyer Caladbolg. Like the other warships in the new colonies, Caladbolg had begun life in Earth Fleet, where she’d been the Emperor Menelik. But Earth, finally weary of war and tired of trying to police her unruly children on planets circling other stars, had been shutting down her legendary fleet and selling her former warships.

  There had been similar destroyers among the forces of those attacking Kosatka.

  “You’d think Earth would care who they were selling weapons to,” he muttered.

  “How can they tell?” Leigh asked. “From the distance of a few hundred light years and months of travel time, we all look the same.”

  Freya nodded. “All the authorities on Earth care about is whether buyers have enough cash or good credit.”

  Lochan shook his head, not sure what else to say, his eyes going to the other display, which showed a star chart of the local region. Humanity, exploding into this arm of the galaxy after the introduction of the jump drives that allowed travel between stars in a matter of weeks, had in the last few decades settled on Eire, as well as farther out on Kosatka, Glenlyon, and Catalan. Other stars, like Tantalus and Jatayu, lacked worlds suitable for humans, and remained simply waypoints to other places.

  His eyes settled on a cluster of other stars. Scatha, Turan, and Apulu. Most people com
ing out here were seeking freedom of one kind or another. But the rulers of those star systems had wanted most of all the freedom to impose their will on others. With Earth far distant and uninterested in what happened on the borders of humanity’s expansion, that freedom had meant war and other aggressions.

  Lochan Nakamura’s last sight of Kosatka had been of an invasion fleet closing in on a world with too few defenders. The end of Carmen Ochoa’s last message to him echoed in his mind. Get out of Kosatka. Go where you can find help for us. We’ll hold out until you get back.

  “We’ll bring back help,” Freya said in a low voice, as if reading his thoughts.

  “I haven’t exactly been a success in life up to this point,” Lochan said, trying to sound cynical rather than depressed. “I’ve failed at everything important.”

  “Not since you came out here, if half of what I’ve heard is true,” she reassured him.

  Leigh Camagan shook her head. “We’ve all come hundreds of light years from Earth or from the Old Colonies on stars near it, but our minds are still stuck there. All of us are still nursing grudges and fears born on the worlds of our ancestors instead of seeing clearly what’s out here. If we’re going to convince other star systems to help our worlds, we have to get their hearts and minds here and now, not mired in the past.”

  Lochan felt himself smiling, surprised that her words had gone home so well. “I’m going to steal that idea for my own speeches.”

  “You’re supposed to call it ‘research,’ not ‘stealing.’ Instead, consider it a gift freely given,” Leigh replied, smiling as well.

  The door opened again to reveal another security officer, one whose looks were so unthreatening she resembled a generic loving grandmother.

  But before the grandmother could begin lulling them into complacency and revealing statements, Freya spoke up. “About time you got here. Call Colonel Ryan. Tell him I’m here.”

  The grandmother blinked at Freya. “Colonel Ryan?”

  “Your boss. Patrick Ryan. Tell him I said he’s a gombeen and a bollix.”

  It took about ten minutes more of waiting before one of the display screens in the room changed to show an irritated but wary man in an Eire security uniform. “It is you, Freya,” he said in a far-from-welcoming tone of voice.

  Lochan was surprised to see Freya smile in response.

  “Even a top criminal like me can’t fool the likes of you, eh, Pat?”

  The colonel didn’t return the pleasantry. “Why are you trying to sneak into this star system?”

  “It’s nice seeing you again as well,” Freya said. “I’m sneaking, am I? Traveling under my own name? As for why, I’m on official business for the government of Catalan. My companions are also on official business for their governments.”

  Colonel Ryan’s gaze ran over Lochan and Leigh. “Two refugees from star systems at war.”

  “Diplomats,” Leigh Camagan corrected him. “Two representatives of the governments of their star systems who are seeking allies against unprovoked aggression that has already endangered our worlds and if unchecked will reach your star system as well.”

  “Two diplomats from star systems at war,” Colonel Ryan corrected himself. “One of them traveling under a false name.”

  “You know that Glenlyon is under blockade,” Freya said. “How else was a representative of their government supposed to get through that?”

  Ryan frowned, but nodded. “Fair enough. But what does Catalan have to do with Kosatka and Glenlyon?”

  “Catalan’s also under attack,” Freya said. “Not military action, yet. Economic. The choke hold is being applied.”

  Ryan eyed her. “Anyone trying a choke hold on Eire will regret it.”

  “You with your two destroyers? Kosatka and Glenlyon both had two as well.”

  Freya’s casual put-down of Eire’s small fleet hung in the air for a moment. Colonel Ryan gave her a flat gaze before apparently deciding to avoid directly challenging the statement. “You’re on a watch list, Freya.”

  She shook her head, apparently unfazed by the statement. “Official business. Government to government. Do you think I don’t know the rules here?”

  Ryan grimaced. “If you’re here on official business for Catalan, I can’t turn you back. But we’ve already received a warning regarding Nakamura.”

  “Anonymous, I’m guessing.”

  “That’s right. You know me, Freya. I don’t like anyone trying to pull my strings.”

  “I’m being open with you. Pat, this is something the government needs to deal with at a high level. There’s a time to choose sides, and that time is now.”

  Colonel Ryan nodded. “I’m not going to stop any of you. Hold on and I’ll have a couple of officers escort the three of you down.”

  “Make sure they’re ready for trouble, Pat. There’ve already been a few tries to keep us from reaching Eire and talking to the government. If not for Lochan there, one of those attempts would’ve succeeded.”

  Lochan tried not to appear uncomfortable as Ryan’s gaze bored into him once more. “So he’s a dangerous one, is he?”

  “Only to enemies of Kosatka,” Freya said. “I can swear to that.”

  “That’s good enough, then. I’ll get you all down to the planet safely and let the government figure out what to do with you. That means notifying your father, Freya.”

  “Then do it. Thanks, Pat.”

  Colonel Ryan ended the call, leaving Lochan feeling embarrassed at being mistaken for “a dangerous one.” “What was that about your father?”

  Freya shrugged. “He’s in the government.”

  Leigh Camagan’s gaze on Freya sharpened. “In the government? And your father’s last name is also Morgan?”

  Lochan stared at Freya. “Your father is the prime minister of Eire?”

  Another shrug. “His proper title is Taoiseach. But don’t go thinking that means we’ve got an inside deal with Eire. I was disowned even before my brother. Mind you, my brother deserved it.”

  The two women who showed up to escort them down to the surface were both polite. But Lochan thought they acted more like guards for prisoners than escorts for guests as the small group headed for the shuttle loading area. Each shuttle dock had its own air lock, but the room facing the docks was long and fairly wide to accommodate both crowds and cargo. Lochan guessed there were about forty other people waiting there singly and in small groups as the guards escorted him, Leigh, and Freya into the room. Like most such waiting areas, it had only a few pieces of furniture near the walls, which featured large displays revealing either external views of space or status updates on shuttle flights.

  The guards did such a smooth and expert job of herding Lochan and the others through those already in the room that Lochan half wondered if they’d been trained by watching corgis at work.

  They were near the air lock for their intended shuttle when one of the guards jerked and fell against him. Lochan grabbed as she slumped, holding her up without thinking, ducking a little to catch her. The instinctive action saved his life as a second shot aimed at him also hit the woman, who was serving as an inadvertent shield.

  A moment later, Lochan’s feet were swept out from under him by Freya’s leg as she dropped to the floor, Freya’s hands also pulling down Leigh Camagan so all three fell to momentary safety out of the line of fire. Lochan kept his grip on the wounded guard, hearing her gasp with pain as they dropped. His thoughts and feelings were frozen, even fear not yet present as he tried to shake off the shock of the sudden attack. If not for Freya knocking him down, he’d still be standing there, paralyzed.

  Some “dangerous one” he was.

  The shots hadn’t made any noise. Everyone else in the area either hadn’t noticed the furor or were staring at Lochan’s group, trying to understand why they were acting so oddly. He stared back at anyone facing them,
trying to figure out who had fired those shots. Blood was spreading over part of the guard’s abdomen, so Lochan pressed his hand hard on that spot to control the bleeding.

  “Shooter!” the unhurt guard shouted, her voice cutting through the low buzz of conversation. “Everyone down!” Silence fell, people staring at the guard. “EVERYONE DOWN!” the guard repeated loudly enough for the command to echo.

  The others in the room dropped to the floor in a flurry of movement.

  “It’s probably a rail pistol, completely silent,” Freya snapped at the unhurt guard, who was crouching beside them and using her body to screen the others while she used one hand to call for help. The other hand held a weapon that swung back and forth in a futile hunt for a target. “Where’s the shooter?”

  “No idea,” the guard said. “I’ve got nothing showing. All surveillance systems in here blanked. Looks like a worm in the network. Help’s coming!”

  A dozen guards ran into the room, their weapons out. With every exit sealed, they began searching everyone. Emergency medical personnel also arrived, kneeling beside the fallen guard, Lochan relinquishing his attempts to control her bleeding. He stood up, staring at the blood on his palm for a moment before a med tech used a wipe to swab it clean and disinfect his skin. “Is any of this yours?” the tech asked.

  It took Lochan a moment to realize that the med tech meant the blood. “No.”

  The tech ran a scanner over Lochan, searching for any more blood on him or his clothing, before kneeling to clean up a few spots of blood on the floor.

  “Whoever did it probably left right after their second shot,” Freya was saying to the head of the guard force. “If any of your sensors can identify anyone who left here, that’s probably our would-be assassin.”

  “The entire section went down,” the supervisor muttered angrily, his eyes sweeping the room. “This was an inside job. The shooter must work up here.” That hard gaze settled on Lochan. “Both shots were aimed at you. You’re from Kosatka?”