Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (74 page)

“That's good to know, sir,” Jeremy replied with a nod.

Horatio nodded back. “We've got two more, the Akizuki and John Hancock in the slips; they are coming up to speed now. Those two will be 40 to 45 percent complete by the time the convoy is scheduled to return. Once we hit our stride, we're going to have ships working up at all times here. At least two a month for the Corvettes and Frigates, and two tin cans every two months.”

There were some smiles of relief over that. He snorted. “It's not enough. I want a couple battle squadrons eventually, with escorts. But for now, we'll keep churning out what we've got.”

Jeremy whistled. “That's a lot of ships, sir,” he said.

“And manpower,” Decius said.

“Have you seen the mothballed sections lately? There are hundreds of hulls there waiting to be completed. We can't finish them all; the largest we don't have all the parts for.”

“Which is why we haven't finished Bismark,” Ensign Barry said. “And another reason why we need to focus on the smaller ships. Since we now have the industry to complete them. A cruiser in its slip takes three time the manpower and industry to complete over a destroyer. Platform redundancy.”

“Yes,” Horatio said with a nod. “Exactly.” He looked around the compartment. “As we get additional engineering personnel we'll activate each slip in turn. But I don't want to spread our people too thin. Besides,” he made a wry face. “I have a feeling Admiral Irons will soon be poaching our people to get the Yards in Antigua up and running.”

“If, sir. He still has to get there first,” Monty replied with a stern expression, holding a warning finger up. Horatio looked at him. “It's a long journey to there from where he started. A lot could happen along the way,” he warned.

Horatio nodded. “You're right, but you know what, I'm not going to worry about it. Admiral Irons has proven he can look after himself. Next thing on the agenda...”

---( | ) --- ( | )---

Jethro wondered about it all. If someone had guessed he had been responsible for the former speaker’s death and was trying to get revenge. No, most likely it was because he'd stuck his foot in his mouth.

The panther sighed. He felt Bast access his...their implants as she sent a signal out to the video screen and turned on the news. She flipped past the sports feeds to the daily news then growled softly when a report about Walker and Jethro came on.

Walker was scrambling to weasel his way out of the mess, but there was too much coming at him at once. He'd been arrested and removed from power, but he was already out on bail, attempting to wrestle control back.

The panther closed his eyes for a moment; then turned his head to open them. He looked over to the suit, staring at the black thing for a long time. Bast had expressed concern for him, wanting him in the suit for his recovery, but the medical officers had flatly rejected that. But the suit was with him, standing over his bed like an automaton or like the three security mechs, one outside the sliding glass door to his room and another two at each of the entrances to the ward.

He looked at his...their body. It was so hard to think of himself as being alone anymore. He had thought the encounter would have scarred him; it should have. The woman had cut him up badly; his kind scarred very easily, which damaged their cloak. But instead, his skin was pinkish and healing nicely. His fur was still missing in the areas that had been cut, but that was due to the medics trimming the hair back to keep the fur from getting into the cuts.

He examined his hand where the whip thing had wrapped around it, wondering what had happened. He frowned, flexing his hand and turning it this way and that. Finally, he felt Bast get exasperated. He looked at her briefly, then back to the hand. After a moment his vision swam. Alarm coursed through him, but then his eyes refocused and he could see clusters of ovals on his hands. He frowned, now curious to see the...insect things. His vision sharpened and then zoomed in to see clusters of tiny robotic insects. After a moment it zoomed in again until he realized he was looking at nanites.

“They...you are healing me?” he asked. Bast nodded on his HUD. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, and then let the hand drop as he rested his head. He closed his eyes again. “Thanks.”

“Heal,” a child-like voice whispered. He frowned, looking around but no one was there. He realized who it had to be, Bast! That got him to open his eyes in surprise. She looked at him mischievously for a moment, then faded until only her eyes remained on his HUD once more. One eye winked, but she didn't say anything else.

Jethro felt his inbox ping. Bast intercepted it, but then handed the e-mail to him. He was curious so he opened it and read it. After a moment he snorted softly. Apparently the personnel department was finally getting their act together. The e-mail informed him that he would be shipping out on the next available transport to Agnosta. He'd spend some time there training new recruits and then on to recruiting.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Valenko said, coming into the room. “Sorry, I was going to let you know in person, but the damn paper pushers actually had their act together for once. Who knew?”

Jethro snorted softly. “So, Agnosta?”

“Yup. I'm stuck here,” the bear said wryly. “I get to take over where you left off and get some sense of order into this place. Then I'll be along. Unless they send me orders for some other hot spot.”

“Lucky you. Am I going on to Antigua?”

“I doubt it, but most likely in that direction,” Valenko said. “Eventually. Maybe. You never know what the future brings. Hell, you could be tapped to come back here for all I know.”

“Some help you are, sir,” Jethro teased.

The bear snorted and spread his hands apart. “But, first you get to survive having 250 green wannabe Marines on the transport out. And you'll be the ranking noncom on board, so you get to wipe their noses and bottoms the whole two months.”

“Lucky me,” he grumbled.

“Get some rest. You look about done in,” the bear said, squeezing his big toe. “We'll talk later if I'm around.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jethro said as the bear withdrew. He thought of Bast, lurking in his mind. She mewed, then settled down into a purr. He let that feeling of contentment drift him off into a doze.

A few days later Jethro was released from the hospital. He was placed under Marine and mech guard at all times, and restricted to military facilities. But he did manage to attend the Matriarch's wake on Anvil. She had insisted her body be recycled. “Waste not, want not,” she'd always said.

Her wake was cheap and had intended to be quiet. Every Neo and alien in the system had attended though; their attendance had sparked interest in the media. Her wake was moved at the last minute to the auditorium of the Anvil College.

Robots and students served drinks and food as they talked. It was an informal affair, exactly what she wanted—a celebration of her life and accomplishments. A large portrait of her with her grand cubs was placed near the podium with flowers donated from greenhouses all over the station.

He'd missed Hrriss's funeral by a day, trapped in the blasted bed in the hospital. He nodded in approval when someone put an image of Hrriss slightly behind and off to one side of his grandmother. Another image was added, this with the two of them together.

Jethro closed his eyes and then moved away. He was still stiff and knew he wasn't fully 100 percent. But he was on his feet; he vowed to see this through. Bast he knew would help him out. He looked at her image on the HUD. She now had a disembodied head, one that had aged a bit, looking more Neo cat now than kitten. She still had the long ears, but there was something there, an echo of the matriarch in her form he thought. Of course, it could be all in his imagination.

Jethro wasn't happy about the media vultures watching them, nor were some of the others, but they put up with it. At least they did it from outside the auditorium though. Knox himself was in attendance, but as a guest not a reporter. Hurranna, Sergei, Valenko, Deja, and the other Neos still in the system had all received emergency leave to attend the ceremony. Despite the informal request Jethro like the others had come in full formal uniform. It seemed fitting somehow, their way to honor her. Each took their time next to her portrait.

“She'd be proud of you,” Hurranna said, saluting him with a long stem glass.

“Of all of us. She kept us on the straight and narrow as much as possible. She made it possible for us to survive and thrive,” Sergei said, saluting her portrait with his glass.

“To her honor,” Jethro echoed, voice still rough.

Most of the Anvil staff was also on hand. Jethro felt touched; she had apparently touched a lot of lives and had made a lot of friends.

He found out she had used the money from the Neos who had selflessly given her part of their pay to set up not only tickets out of the system, but also businesses, donations to repeal the neo tax, food and medical care for the poor, and scholarships for worthy students. He vowed to do something to continue her projects, but he wasn't sure quite how to go about it. He'd have to talk to the others later; now was not the time or place.

The Valdez family, Kincaids, Thornby, Captain Logan, Matilda, Smithy, and others Jethro barely recognized had put in an appearance. Many had lingered, catching up, or paying their respects. Jethro noted with approval that security was tight, not just on him and the other military personnel, but also on the whole proceedings. He didn't like the idea of what a poison gas or bomb could do in here.

Stories of her life circulated among her friends, and how she'd wanted a quick death. There was some debate about that, but someone played back a recording, how she had been a proud lioness, wanting, no demanding a quick dignified end, not a slow death of old age. She hadn't gone out on her terms, but close enough. Jethro overheard a few talk that she had asked about suicide at one point, but there was always something else to do, someone else to help.

Her death had however kicked things into action; it had done many things to further her causes along. Things many hadn't expected.

Her fight against the bigoted tax and the link the assassin Miss Persephone had to Governor Walker made her a martyr. Persephone's confession to Jethro had closed the case since she was dead but opened others. An hour before her wake the legislature had finished a repeal, named after her. It had passed with a two-thirds majority and automatically repealed the law. They had finished that after doing one other important piece of legislation. In a shocking move they had not only investigated, but rammed through an impeachment of Governor Walker the night before.

It would normally go to the Governor's office, but that was a mess. Governor Walker was out; he'd tried to fight the mess but the impeachment hearings had slammed him. He'd screamed bloody murder about being railroaded, but no one cared. His wife had filed for divorce. The justice department came down on him about several suspicious deaths, including his prior aide Nancy. His campaign finance issues, double dealings, mismanagement of public funds, actions against the military, and other things all came to light once more.

Nancy's body had been recovered secretly some months ago. An autopsy confirmed the parentage of her unborn child, as well as her murder. Her replacement Tracy turned state's evidence, as did the governor's chief aide Nelson and his personal physician doctor Oro; all three were in protective custody, some said in San Diego. All three witnesses plus what the AIs had turned up had been more than enough on Walker to kick the investigation over to the grand jury despite the attempts by the system prosecutor to slow the process down. When he'd been threatened with an investigation into his stone walling he'd thrown up his hands and let it go. One of his ADA's and a pair of NCIS agents sat on him until the arrest warrant was signed. They didn't want the old boy's network to get wind of the arrest and start the spin control.

Governor Walker had been arrested on the steps to the governor's mansion, in full view of the media as he went to work the day after the attempt on Jethro's life. He ranted about it being a set up and not having any warning. His impeachment investigation had hit an hour later.

When Walker had been taken out of power Lieutenant Governor Ralkin had taken his place promising a full and swift investigation. He railed on so much about how Walker would pay for his crimes that Walker in a fit of rage released his insurance policy, a series of files with damaging material on all his supporters and even some of his critics. Apparently he'd kept track of every dirty deed and had decided to go nuclear, taking them down with him in an exchange of mutual destruction. Ralkin was now out, implicated in the Vesta debacle that had chased Admiral Irons out of the system, along with a ton of other charges. The executive branch was in utter chaos so there was no telling when the repeal would be signed.

“He had nothing left and decided to take the whole system down with him,” a woman said shaking her head and tisk tisking. “I'm betting some will die or turn state's evidence to save their own sorry necks.”

“Or they'll come out smelling like a rose. You know Walker, he was known as the Teflon governor because no one could make anything stick. Hell, the people re-elected him!”

“Yeah well, apparently he thought it would be business as usual after the election. But there were some changes in the legislature, and he thought wrong,” Thornby said with a smile of approval. She nodded to Jethro. “I think everyone was about fed up with him.”