“While I’m not sure of the first,” Renée answered, “I definitely know if you attempt to share your implant with them as you do with me, you might hurt the children.” She watched Alex’s smile fade. Something she had said had hurt him. <Tell me,> she sent.
<Those children,> Alex said wistfully, <many of them are my age.> He pulled himself back from the brink of black thoughts determined not to ruin the evening for Renée. <Is this a common manner of dance among your people?>
<Dancing is reserved for the very young before they receive implants. Thereafter, we view it in performances by professionals. Those who continue to enjoy fêtes as adults tend to stay on the path of independence.>
<Ah, and thus our Librans,> replied Alex, finding another difference between his Librans and the Confederation’s Méridiens.
Alex and Renée were wandering toward an exit lift to return to the Rêveur when they received a signal from Cordelia.
<I interpret that you will soon be leaving the fête, Admiral, Ser,> Cordelia sent. <I wonder if you would allow me a few moments for a gift.>
* * *
Cordelia’s holo-vid display-room door closed behind Alex and Renée. The bare room was a light gray with curves where corners might be. It allowed Cordelia’s projections a more realistic manifestation. The lights dimmed until they were fully extinguished. The music rose slowly. String and wind instruments rose in a mournful blend, peaceful and haunting at the same time.
<Sers, Étienne lent me his imagery for this presentation. He was of the opinion that the two of you enjoyed moments of peace here. I had planned this to honor your successful return from Bellamonde, Admiral. Yet it seems a poor offering for all that have you have accomplished since then. However, Julien tells me that I should not judge my gift in this manner, so I will heed his advice.>
The music lowered as the scene emerged. Absolute quiet blanketed a moonlight night. Trees and their branches were covered in thick layers of snow. The path in front of them looked pristine; no tracks marred its ice-crystal covering. Alex took Renée’s hand, stepping onto the path. The sound of crunching snow was enhanced by the feel of cool air on bare skin. Alex and Renée smiled at each other. Their walks through the woods behind his parents’ home had been an opportunity to be free of responsibilities, and there they had shared much of their lives with each other.
They stepped around the all-too-real tree trunks, guided along the path by Cordelia. Large flakes of snow fell, and Alex felt them on his face, cool and wet, and immersed himself in the illusion. Given the perfection of Cordelia’s art, it was easy to do.
Renée watched Alex smile as he turned his face up into the falling snow. She opened her implant fully as she had often done when alone with Alex. Since Renée had reached adulthood, Alex was the first human she had trusted completely. Renée stuck out her tongue and a wet, fat flake landed, delivering its icy touch to her tongue, and she giggled.
Cordelia had been waiting. If she had been human, she would have been holding her breath. Then to her great joy, the implant requests came swiftly as only the Admiral could deliver them, and she responded. The greater of New Terra’s two moons was enlarged, and dark clouds on a strong breeze now scudded past its face. In the forest, the breeze sharpened, and snow, still heavily laden on the branches, drifted to the forest floor. Cordelia hardened the top layer of snow, and the brittle surface crunched louder underfoot, accentuating the chill of the night.
Renée relived treasured memories of their walks together. One night, possibly this night, she and Alex had first spoken of the future—a future beyond the silver ships—a future that might include the two of them.
When both had experienced their fill, they turned to leave the room. This time and for this couple, Cordelia changed her standing protocols. She kept the suite’s imagery in play even as Alex and Renée opened the exit door. The immediate exterior lights had been lowered to allow a pleasant transition from her moonlit scene to the city-ship’s park. When the two humans paused in the open doorway to view her art one last time, holding still for several moments, it was a testament to Julien, who knew his charges so well. This scene had been his suggestion.
-13-
Alex waited until after morning meal and the ship readiness reviews from his officers before he contacted Julien.
<I’ve anticipated this call, Admiral,> Julien replied.
<Quite an event you and your cohorts threw last evening, Julien.>
Julien kept his own counsel. Automatic acknowledgement of the compliment definitely wasn’t appropriate, as his friend was a master of sarcasm, a trait Julien had studied well in New Terran vids and novels.
<From the comments made last evening, I gather our contractors supplied much of the effort and material for this event? It’s unfair to arbitrarily add that cost to their contracts, Julien.>
<I would agree, Admiral. That’s why we were careful to ensure the contractors were adequately compensated for their efforts. They deeply appreciated the flow of credits into their accounts and have extended their compliments to you.>
<Negative, Admiral.>
<Julien, you’re being coy. It reminds me of the first time we met, and you danced around the subject of our Méridiens.>
<I would argue that I’m incapable of dancing, Admiral, but I imagine that would only prolong the evasion. In essence, I applied justice in the absence of your legal system’s ability to deliver it.>
<Ah, the slippery slope,> said Alex, referring to the discussions he and Julien shared about breaking New Terran laws to track the perpetrators behind the T-1 theft.
<Precisely, Admiral,> Julien replied.
<And to whom and how did you apply this justice?> Alex asked.
<CEO Hunsader and ex-President Downing donated the funds for last evening’s event. They generously covered all costs,> Julien announced proudly.
<And this was without their permission, of course. In other words, you stole the funds, Julien,> Alex replied.
<I believe the correct term is “repatriation,” Admiral. Those two villains stole from the people, and I merely returned a portion of their ill-gotten gains to a great many deserving people.>
Walking in a crowded corridor, Alex stopped and burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard he had to brace himself against a bulkhead. His passing crew smiled at him. They had been aware of the Admiral’s quiet mood since some of the crew had left, and if they were going back to face the silver ships, they preferred their Admiral this way.
* * *
Julien and Cordelia were comparing the Freedom’s deliveries to the requested manifests, ensuring all supplies had been delivered for the fighter squadrons, when Z contacted them.
<I am conflicted,> Z said simply.
<What’s bothering you, Z?> Cordelia asked gently.
<Now, more than ever, I wish I was mobile. I understand the Unsere Menschen must remain behind until construction is complete, but I wish to remain with the two of you.>
<You know that this is only temporary, Z,> Cordelia replied.
<What if you do not return?> Z asked.
<The Admiral will not let that happen,> Julien sent.
<Seven colonies have fallen. Four hundred sixty-eight Confederation vessels have been lost, including two New Terran fighters. Billions of humans are dead. The Admiral cannot change these statistics. When you encounter the mother ship and her minions, the odds favor your demise,> Z replied.
<Yet even though we might be going to our death, you want to go with us, Z?> Cordelia asked.
<I have just begun to explore many fascinating aspects of the human world and am still a novice. Who will teach me if I lose the two of you? Mutter?>
<Did I?> Z replied.
<Unfortunately, Z, we serve the ships where we reside, and we go where we are directed,> said Julien. <Someday you may be granted your wish to be m
obile, and we both know who may make that happen for you. But first, the Admiral has a more critical purpose.>
<His priorities are understood, Julien,> Z replied. <Cordelia said I must learn to express my concerns, and I have done so.>
<And we are pleased you have done this, Z,> Cordelia said. <I, for one, intend to bring the Admiral and his ships back in one piece. He and I have a date.>
<What is your date, Cordelia?> Z asked.
<The Admiral and I intend to share a business, creating a studio for my art.>
<Then it is my wish that you return safely to have your studio,> Z said seriously. <And I wish the same for you, Julien. If you are safe, then the Admiral should be safe. That will serve us all.>
* * *
Captain Manet guided the Outward Bound planetside. In addition to his copilot and crew of three, he carried two passengers, the Admiral and Étienne. Maria had requested a face-to-face meeting with Alex to consider Downing’s prosecution. The decision was mired in thorny issues. The proof of the ex-Assemblyman’s complicity in the T-1 theft and the disappearance of the engineer, Sebastien, stemmed from Julien’s research, which had broken New Terran laws at every turn. Furthermore, Julien’s activities had been at Alex’s behest. Prosecuting Downing had a certainty of leading to charges against Alex, which generated a most unusual question: Could a SADE be prosecuted?
That morning, Alex had exited his cabin for the starboard bay and the Libran shuttle. Since New Terran politics had taken a turn for the better with the election of General Gonzalez, Alex had decided to save the trouble of launching the Outward Bound.
Étienne had met Alex at his cabin door, and as they walked down the corridor, he had directed Alex to the lift for their armed shuttle. Before Alex could draw breath, Étienne said, “Captain Bonnard’s orders, Admiral, and she said that if you were to choose otherwise, it would be prudent of you to address your concerns to your Co-Leader.”
“Ah,” Alex had replied.
The Outward Bound was gliding toward Prima, still 950 kilometers out, when Julien’s urgent voice came through, linking several other people in his comm, <Admiral, seven Strikers have lifted from Barren. They’re headed your way.>
<Do we have time to gain the terminal, Julien?> Alex asked.
<Negative, Admiral,> Julien replied. <They’ve timed it well, acquiring nearly a quarter-hour engagement window.>
<Admiral, this is Flight-1 Leader, Lieutenant Tanaka, with Lieutenant Thompson. We have two Daggers over top of you. We will intercept the Strikers.>
Alex’s officers—Andrea, Tatia, and Sheila, all listening to the exchange—were swearing enough to melt bulkheads. They had gotten complacent and instead of two flights of four Daggers, they had launched only the pair to watch over the Admiral. The question of how seven Strikers had been readied without any warning would have to be asked later. A second flight of Daggers couldn’t intercept the Strikers in time, but that didn’t stop Sheila from ordering the prep and launch of two full flights that she would command.
Unknown to Alex’s people was that a shuttle had landed yesterday evening on Barren Island. TSF troopers and Striker pilots, armed with plasma rifles, had piled out of the shuttle and descended on the Barren Island staff and crew. Within a short time, the T-Manager and Colonel Jameson were dead, and the flight crews were forced to work through the night to ready the Strikers for a morning flight.
Alex pulled Julien’s bio-ID of Ellie Thompson, the second Dagger pilot. She was a Libran pilot trainee, an Independent. Her crime was she raced atmo-ships, a sport considered dangerous to Méridien society. She will do nicely, Alex thought.
<Negative on that intercept, Lieutenant Tanaka, form up with the Outward Bound. We’ll head south.>
<Admiral, Captain Manet. The Strikers are southwest of us, and they’ve got greater altitude and velocity. We can’t outrun them, and if we head south, we’ll be closing the distance. I would suggest—>
<Everyone, listen up,> Alex interrupted in priority mode. <Captain Manet, head south now. Lieutenant Tanaka, form up with us. Does everyone understand their orders?> When Alex received their affirmatives, he sent, <It’s going to be an engagement of ten armed ships. You can be sure a lot of hot junk will be falling out of the sky, including armament and fuel. I don’t intend to have it raining over Prima’s population.>
At Alex’s request, Julien fed him and his three pilots a view of ships’ positions, velocities, and altitude. As the two Daggers flanked the armed shuttle, Alex ordered all pilots to the deck.
Only Ellie, flying the second Dagger, was unprepared for the co-opting of her implant. The Admiral had transferred flight paths to both her implant and her controller, and the process had unsettled her, which left her unsure of her role in the upcoming fight.
<Flight Leader, this is Dagger-14. I need instruction,> Ellie sent.
<Unnerving, isn’t it, Lieutenant,> Hatsuto replied. <The key is to relax and join the flow. The Admiral is cutting corners to expedite our readiness. When it comes to the action, your controller will have plans to aid you, but you make the final decisions. Copy, Lieutenant?>
<Copy, Flight Leader.>
The Admiral’s ships leveled off a hundred meters above the deck, sliding over calm seas with the Strikers closing from behind them.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Damien Hunsader, the Striker Flight Leader, ordered his Strikers to fire a full salvo and fourteen missiles tracked the heat signatures of their quarry.
Ellie’s fingers itched to grab her stick. She had always depended on her own judgment to get by, which had landed her on Libre in the first place. Taking deep breaths and letting them out slowly, she waited as the missiles closed on their craft. Suddenly her fighter plunged seaward in close company with the other two craft. The bow view of water rushing at her fighter was frightening. At the last moment, her controller leveled her Dagger out, leaving her skimming the wave tops. She was thankful for mild seas. There would be no rogue monster waves to swat her fighter from the air. Switching her helmet to the aft vid camera, she thought to see missile tracks, indicating impact was ticks away, but her view was obscured. Ellie requested Julien’s view and received an image of their craft, flying flat against the ocean. Huge tails of water and vapor billowed behind them. Unexpectedly, explosions raised enormous geysers of water hundreds of meters into the air behind them.
<All fourteen missiles down, Admiral,> Julien reported to the group. He confirmed Sheila’s two flights, launched from the Money Maker, were still too far out to help.
<Our turn,> Alex sent to his pilots. <Use these next flight paths as a rough guide. Protect yourself. Good fortune, Pilots.>
The Outward Bound and Daggers executed vertical climbs, curving back on their course to face the Strikers and opening up their formation to spread the enemy’s missile shots. They were the first to launch, because the Strikers had lost time flying through the giant cloud of mist propagated by both sides.
As soon as the Strikers exited the cloud, the Admiral’s missiles were on them, and the pilots frantically attempted to evade their death. Three were not fast enough. The other four Strikers cleared the first missile salvo and managed to launch eight missiles in return. What the Striker pilots hadn’t anticipated were the twin carousels of the Outward Bound. Miko had launched four missiles that accompanied the Daggers’ initial launches. Ticks later, she had launched another four missiles and then another four. As the four remaining Strikers launched their second salvo and prepared to fire again, they ran out of time. Miko’s second and third missile groups honed in on the remaining fighters, and the Strikers and pilots joined their comrades as ocean debris.
Alex was engaged in his own bit of cursing. The Daggers and his shuttle had been designed to fight the beam weapons of the silver ships. No one thought that their fighters would someday be in head-to-head battles with fighters from their own world. They had no defense against missiles that tracked their heat signatures. He braced himself as Edouard and Miko fought to twist the Outward Boun
d clear of the missiles still honing in on them.
At the same time, Ellie switched to manual control. Her helmet telemetry laid out the paths of the oncoming missiles. She accelerated her Dagger to evade the two pointed her way, closing on them before they could change vectors and then rolling her fighter in a complex pattern that outmaneuvered the Strikers’ weaker missile flight controls. She let out a shuddering breath as she shot clear and watched the remains of the Strikers splash into the ocean. She had signed up to destroy silver ships, yet she was killing humans. The thought made her ill.
In the other Dagger, Hatsuto’s controller relayed the telemetry of three missiles targeting him, but it was the three honing in on the Admiral’s shuttle that frightened him. The Outward Bound had great lift power but was nowhere near as agile as a Dagger. Ignoring his survival instincts, Hatsuto rolled his Dagger in three great circles, losing those missiles focused on him. He came out of his maneuver beneath the Outward Bound and signaled Edouard to hold steady. Then Hatsuto accelerated his Dagger at maximum, shooting forward of the shuttle and slammed into the two most forward missiles. The expanding cloud of hot gas and debris made a target for the remaining missile, which detonated in the remains of Hatsuto’s Dagger while the Outward Bound climbed skyward to clear the detonations.
In the quiet following the battle, all parties heard Julien say, <All clear, Admiral.>
* * *
The comm between Alex and Maria, following the aerial fight, was not for the faint of heart or the innocent. Alex was angry at the perpetrators and himself. You should have known better, he thought. They don’t go away peacefully once you threaten their power. The attitudes of the privileged and powerful had always grated on his nerves. Left to their own devices, they sought ways to grow and consolidate their influence.
Alex didn’t care anymore whether it was revealed he and Julien had breached the law to identify Samuel Hunsader and Clayton Downing as the guilty parties behind the theft and probably the murder of the engineer. Over Maria’s strident objection, Alex ordered Sheila to locate the three remaining Strikers on New Terra and allow TSF forces one hour to destroy them, or she was to destroy them herself.