Loyalty to the Cause (TCOTU, Book 4) (This Corner of the Universe) (20 page)

“That’s
our lead, about ninety light-minutes,” Heskan confirmed.  “It will vary a
little, of course, depending on exactly when Brewer started after us.”

“How
much faster is Brewer’s ship?” Lombardi asked.

Heskan
looked at Lombardi dejectedly.  “The Emissary-class sloops, really a misnomer
considering their build, are capable of a sustained point two-five-C.  They’re specialized
ships commissioned only for governmental use.  Insanely expensive and
tunnel-capable.”

Vernay
spoke even more plainly.  “Komandor, in a straight line pursuit, Brewer would
overhaul us in fifteen hours.”  Vernay’s mouth curled slightly in a smile as
Lombardi’s eyes widened.  “And it gets worse,” she added.

Lombardi
grimly dipped her head.  “Yes, any warning they send regarding Hussy moves at
the speed of light and will reach us much faster.”

“Maybe even in this
system,” Heskan ventured.  “I fear the uncontested portion of our escape is
nearly over and that brings me to the topic at hand.  What do we do about it?”

*  *  *

Lieutenant
Truesworth was considering a search party for his missing captain when, two
hours after Heskan had vanished into the chartroom, he reappeared.

“Status?”
Heskan asked as he moved back to the captain’s console.

Truesworth
hopped out of the loudly creaking chair, causing him to look backward in
surprise before answering, “Everything’s been quiet, Captain.  None of the
system ships have so much as given us a second glance.  I’ve been keeping an
eye out for that Envoy sloop at the Lysithea and Titan tunnel points too.  So
far, nothing.”

“That’s
smart thinking, Jack,” Heskan complimented as he sat.  He docked his datapad to
the console.

“Of
course,” Truesworth added, “we’ll only be aware of them when we detect their
beacon since we don’t have an operating optical array to actually monitor the
tunnel points.”

Vernay
took her position at the auxiliary station before asking, “Diane, what’s the
queue at the New London tunnel point?”

“Not
bad, ma’am, about eleven minutes.”

Heskan stared at the
system plot and did the math. 
Hussy
was a little over halfway through
her transit across the Bree system.  They would be diving in about two hours. 
We
need to send our counter-warning about then.

*  *  *

Envoy-3’s
transition into normal space
occurred at 22:41 Bree local time.  Secretary Brewer felt the all too familiar
disorientation from the dive but refused to remain beholden to it.  He rose
from his well-padded dignitary’s chair, slightly off-balance, and commanded,
“Find them.”

Envoy-3’s
captain valiantly shook off the
nausea and ordered, “Start with sweeps from the Thalassa tunnel point first;
it’s the most likely route they’d take.”

Acknowledgments
rang through the sloop’s bridge.

“They
must be here, Captain Long,” Brewer stated.  “We missed Hussy by less than four
hours in Lysithea.”  The freighter’s unfortunate escape into the Bree system
had opened a Pandora’s box for him.  It would now be impossible to conceal from
Minister Fane the depth of treachery committed under Brewer’s nose, although the
beginnings of an escape plan were coming into shape.  It might require the
regrettable sacrifice of Assistant Secretary Neal but life preservers went first
to the most important when a ship was sinking.

Envoy-3’s
dedicated communications officer
asked from a side station, “Mr. Secretary, shall I send a comm request to
Capital Intelligence?”

“Not
yet,” Brewer dismissed with the wave of a hand.  “I want Hussy located first.” 
His eyes scoured the bridge’s system plot for the beacon that would reveal
Hussy’s
position.  Somewhere, in the vastness of Bree’s space, Garrett Heskan was
running desperately for his life.  His tension surged at the thought of Jacob Heskan’s
only son. 
After your father died, I guided your career and you threw it
away.  When no admiral would touch you, I gave you Anelace.  How could you turn
your back on your father’s legacy, Garrett?
  It was an unknowing betrayal,
Brewer understood.  Garrett had been merely a toddler when he sat on Brewer’s
bouncing knee and but an infant when his mother was killed. 
Still,
Brewer
wondered,
did your father ever tell you any stories about his service?
 
The Republic had been a different place those many decades ago; simpler in various
ways but untamed.  Brewer’s eyes focused on Bree’s planetary symbol on the
ship’s plot. 
It was for the best,
Brewer justified. 
The Republic
needed people willing to defend her.

“Found
it!” the sensorman cried out.  “It’s headed toward New London, five
light-minutes from the tunnel point.”

Brewer
bit down sourly and thought,
And now, I am forced to defend my Republic yet
again.
  A lifetime of sacrifices ran through his mind.  He thought about
his empty home on Bree. 
Oh, Garrett, you could have honored my legacy.
 
Instead, you slipped a dagger into my back.
  “Broadcast the alert.  Have
any military ship in range order them to heave to.  Contact those fortresses at
the New London tunnel point.”

The
communications officer nodded while rapidly inputting commands into her
console.

“It’s
not going to reach them in time,” the captain said reluctantly.  “I’m sorry,
Mr. Secretary, but they’ll dive before our message reaches the tunnel point.”

Brewer
sank petulantly into his chair at the news. 
Hussy
would dive out in
approximately thirty minutes while
Envoy-3
was 47
lm
from her.  He
looked crossly at the captain.  “Set your course to New London via Bree proper,
Captain.”  Brewer began to pull up New London’s stellar chart as he added determinedly,
“And embed that order into the standata.  I want that freighter already stopped
by the time we dive into New London.”  The secretary sat in silent deliberation
before dropping his fist onto the arm of his chair like a gavel.  After an indomitable
nod, he stood and announced, “I’ll be in my office, sending a report to the minister. 
Notify me immediately of any updates.”

Brewer
hardly perceived the chorus of acknowledgments from the bridge crew.  They were
under his thumb and of no concern to him.  He instead thought of the impending
conversation as he traveled to his office.

By design, engineers
had placed the dignitary’s office on Emissary-class vessels the shortest
possible distance from  the bridge.  The alloy door opened when it sensed Brewer’s
presence and he seated himself behind his magnificent oak desk before opening his
report concerning the entire Anthe situation.  Armed with more favorable
knowledge, he spent nearly an hour amending his report to reflect the
circumstances in the best possible light before encoding and sending it to the intelligence
building in Bree’s capital city.  His I.S. secretary code ensured priority delivery
status to Minister Fane.  With the report dispatched, he began to prepare for his
inescapable conversation with the minister once his ship approached Bree.

*  *  *

Selvaggio
used thrusters to maneuver
Hussy
toward the New London tunnel point.  “We’re
third in line, Captain, with MT Perseus directly ahead of us.  We’ll receive
dive clearance in about six minutes.”

Heskan
wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.  “Jack, embed the counter-warning and
synchronize our standata when the next ship dives.”

“That
will give them four minutes to stop us,” Lombardi muttered as she closed a hand
on the back of Heskan’s chair.  In their earlier meeting, she had lobbied hard
for Heskan to wait until the last moment to send their contradictory message
via standata.  However, Heskan had agreed with Vernay, measuring that the risk
of having the ship preceding
Hussy
dive out of Bree before receiving the
update was greater than having local authority question the contents.

“It’ll
be okay, Izzy.  Those tunnel fortresses don’t immediately read every standata
update they receive from each passing freighter.”  Heskan was not sure if he
was speaking more to console her or himself.

“But
this is a high priority update from an esteemed commander attached to Republic
Internal Security,” Lombardi disputed.  “They will read that,” she added with
real fear entering her voice.  “And I have seen firsthand what your tunnel defense
citadels can do to even armored warships.”

“Freighter
away,” Selvaggio proclaimed.

“Syncing
standata, Captain,” Truesworth echoed.

“In
Sponde,” Lombardi recounted with a haunted look on her face, “the first shots
from one of your citadels drilled straight through our shields and into
Engineering.  That opening salvo killed twelve sailors.”  Her voice grew
distant.  “They told me two were hit directly and just… vaporized.  Phoenix’s power
core was never the same after that hit.”

Heskan
was surprised at her rambling but understood it was merely nerves.  There was a
very real race between the controllers of the New London tunnel point granting
clearance for
Hussy
to dive and the standata update that every ship and
orbital around the tunnel point had just received. 
Isabella is righ
t,
Heskan thought
.  The people on those citadels will read my warning and
wonder why the person who transmitted that message is riding on the very vessel
the warning covers.  There are too many inconsistencies in the message.  Republic
officials hate inconsistency.

“Can
I move Hussy up yet, Jack?” Selvaggio pestered.

“Patience,
my navigatrix,” Truesworth replied coolly.

Vernay,
absentmindedly tugging at her braid, stated, “Diane, you know you’re to jump no
matter what they say, right?”

Selvaggio
was about to reply when Truesworth blurted, “We have clearance.”

“Go,
Diane!’ Heskan and Vernay exclaimed.

For
once, the nausea from diving was a sweet relief.

“We’ve
shifted into tunnel space, Captain,” Selvaggio announced gratefully.

“Ready
to sail?” Heskan asked.

Selvaggio
gave a quick nod and looked down at her controls.  “Aye, sir.  Conventional
drive is zeroed out; thrusters are inactive.”  She used her index and middle
finger to slowly push two levers forward.  “Deploying our main masts.”

Lateral
spurs angled outward from
Hussy’s
hull, anchoring into a ninety-degree
position.  Small restraining disks spun lines of energy from each mast to their
companion disks attached to
Hussy’s
sides.  Once locked, containment
field generators inside each mast shaped energy to extend the mast virtually,
several hundred kilometers long.

“Stays
are secure.  Backstays, shrouds are secure.  The masts are secure,” Selvaggio
noted.  “Extending the mainyards.”  She shot a sheepish look at her captain
before saying, “I’m just going to use the mainsails in the beginning.”

“Just
move us forward, Diane,” Heskan replied.

“Mainyards
deployed.”  She leaned to one side to scrutinize a console display.  “Standing
rig is holding.”  Satisfied that the virtual connections fastening the ship’s
masts and booms were functioning correctly, her hands moved to a second set of
controls while she uttered, “Energizing the smartlines.”

Heskan
watched the fluid motions of Selvaggio’s skilled hands as she manipulated the
console.  The smartline controls looked incredibly complicated.  Each of the
virtual lines was independently controlled and even a minor adjustment to a
single line could reshape the entire virtual sail.  Similar to wet sailing ships,
an improperly adjusted sail could have disastrous influence over the entire vessel.

“Running
rig is operative.”  Selvaggio took a deep breath.  “Here we go.  Raising the
mainsails.”

Heskan
could not help but notice the wide grin on his navigator’s face.  The nostalgia
was not lost on him. 
Hussy
rocked to port and her bow began to dip unnervingly
forward.  Around the bridge, Heskan saw white knuckles universally clutching at
whatever was available to act as braces.  He resisted the compulsion to harass
Selvaggio for more information.

“Sorry,”
she muttered while quickly working the smartline controls.

The
ship gradually smoothed out although Heskan could still feel a slight sway to
the old girl.

“I
did it,” Selvaggio quietly congratulated herself.  She appraised her status
display.  “We’re moving, Captain.  Point oh-six-C and I think I can trim the
sails for even more speed after a few minutes.”  Selvaggio’s grin was wider
than ever.

“Fantastic
work, Diane,” Heskan offered.  To his left, he heard Vernay issue her own
compliments while Lombardi remarked about a job well done.  After the
acclamations were awarded, Heskan asked, “Will adding the topsails push us to
point one-C?”

Selvaggio
nodded eagerly.  “Definitely, and we won’t even need the topgallants.  I bet
this ship could make nearly point one-five-C in normal space with all six sails.” 
The topgallants were the third sails on each lateral mast, positioned farthest from
the freighter.  Although smaller than the mainsails and topsails, their position
on the extreme edges of the masts added control difficulty given the
inconsistent and compressed solar pressure encountered in tunnel space. 
Hussy’s
ability to travel at the maximum speed of .1
c
in tunnel space without
resorting to the spirited outermost sails was a considerable relief to all.