Raising Caine - eARC (56 page)
Read Raising Caine - eARC Online
Authors: Charles E. Gannon
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera, #Alien Contact, #General
Riordan nodded carefully. “Yes, but you are still giving your consent. Which means you are instructing me to carry out this mission. If anyone is displeased, they will be coming after your hide, Etienne, no matter how much you protest, rightly, that it was my idea.”
“I will claim derangement,” Gaspard waved airily, “brought on by the stress of our ordeals upon Disparity and so forth.” The ambassador smiled. Caine found that he was starting to like this man that he had originally dismissed as a nuisance and a popinjay. “Seriously, Captain, I have my reservations about what Yiithrii’ah’aash has requested. The same ones you have voiced, in fact. Since we were unable to detect the marking the Pavonians had impressed upon you, it only stands to reason that the Slaasriithi could deposit more subtle markers, or perhaps biochemical agents, upon any of us or in any of the planetary environments with which they come into contact.”
The ambassador sighed, leaned back in his chair. “But ironically, it is this very fact which decides me in favor of bypassing the appropriate quarantine and assessment protocols upon which our bureaucrats would insist. Not because they are unduly worried by such exposures: their concerns over surreptitious xenobiological intrusion could hardly be more justified than in this case. But by the time they arrive at an independent means of detecting the micro-organisms or diffuse organic traces in question, this political moment will be long past.”
“Which is why you showed only mild enthusiasm for Yiithrii’ah’aash’s offer of providing the technology for detecting their markings.”
“
Vraiment
. So the estimable Yiithrii’ah’aash provides us with the detection systems and biological guidelines he promised: what of it? How do we know that these are truly the only ones we require? Can we trust that he will not withhold those which are necessary to screen for agents and organics to which we have not yet been exposed, or have not yet detected? No, our quarantine administrators would rightly insist upon developing the machinery and protocols themselves. And that could require years, even decades.” Gaspard cut the air with a decisive hand. “
Non
; we must cement this alliance now. And what the quarantine administrators do not know—and which has no traction upon their science, only upon this political moment—is that if the Slaasriithi had wished to make us plague carriers of one form or another, they have had months of opportunity to do so. Which we knew at the outset. And the only mitigating factor that would protect the entirety of the legation from an extended, or even lifelong, quarantine was the measure of genuine good will and mutual enlightened benefit that the Slaasriithi’s own actions portended. This was the barometer we were forced to trust from the very beginning.”
“In short, if the Slaasriithi really need us, then they aren’t trying to poison us on the sly.”
“Exactly so. And perhaps Yiithrii’ah’aash anticipated these very reservations. Perhaps that was why he insisted that we see their biospheres, their way of life, and their biological imperatives: so that we might understand the full significance of this mission he sends you upon now. For it is clear that without this indagator added back into their polytaxon, they lack not only lack the skills to protect themselves adequately, they lack the instincts.”
Riordan nodded. “Those were my assessments, too.” He sighed, leaned back into a posture not too different from Gaspard’s own. “But even with your authority behind me, this mission is still going to be a tricky dance. I don’t actually
possess
your authority personally, and I’m likely to be trying to bluff and bluster my way past colonial and military authorities. Particularly at Delta Pavonis.”
Gaspard shook his head. “It may not be as difficult as you expect, Captain. I have official prerogatives of which you have not been made aware.” Etienne obviously enjoyed the surprised look that Riordan was unable to suppress. “Oh, yes, not even
you
know all the provisions and entitlements of my appointment as the ambassador plenipotentiary to the Slaasriithi. For instance, I am able to confer upon you a limited measure of that plenipotentiality: you have a measure of authority equal to my own if you are tasked to carry out initiatives that I authorize but for which I cannot be present. So, in instructing you to undertake this mission, you will enjoy my power and authority in matters directly pertaining to its execution.”
“I could see no small amount of debate arising over the question of whether any given action ‘directly pertains’ to the execution of my mission.”
“Naturally; that is the nature of diplomacy and diplomats. We dwell in a world where there is no black, no white; we navigate among shades of gray. However, I have been conferred broad powers—and the latitude to employ them—in order to secure an alliance with the Slaasriithi by the end of this journey. Furthermore, I am fully within my rights to transfer that aegis of authority to you for this special mission. So you may exercise the same broad latitude of action, and expect the same congenial interpretations of your prerogatives and authority.”
Riordan smiled. “That’s nice to know. It will be even nicer having a document that spells it all out for anyone who might be less than fully cooperative.”
“With which I shall provide you, of course. I shall also provide you with a means of being on more equal footing with most of the civilian and military authorities that you are likely to encounter.
Monsieurs
Sukhinin and Downing solicited and received a special writ from Admiral Lord Halifax on the day of our departure. It was to be employed in the event that I was killed, incapacitated, or that I was compelled to have you pursue legation business on what they term ‘detached duty.’” Gaspard removed an envelope from the breast pocket within the liner of his duty suit, handed it to Riordan.
Who, frowning, opened it and discovered papers assigning him a brevet rank of commodore “for the duration of any detached duty to which he has been duly and officially assigned by Ambassador plenipotentiary Etienne Gaspard, Consul of the Consolidated Terran Republic, in the furtherance of the objectives of the first legation to the Slaasriithi.” Caine stared at the paper, the signatures, and seals for a very long time. “This is wrong.”
Gaspard glanced at him. “I beg your pardon? Everything is in order; I made certain of it.”
Riordan shook his head. “No, I’m not referring to the legality of the document. I mean I’ve been boosted up the ranks far too quickly. Even if this is just a diplomatic convenience to give me necessary authority, I don’t have the command experience or training to warrant this.”
Gaspard frowned, folded his hands, thought for several very long seconds. “I am not eager to share this with you,
Monsieur
Riordan—it is not my way—but I must be frank: I consider your concerns largely unfounded. Firstly, I have worked with many flag rank officers who have never seen combat at all—or worse yet, with others who have commanded contingents with dire results. You, on the other hand, have distinguished yourself on this mission, and earlier, in the battles for both Barnard’s Star and Earth itself. Have you commanded large warships? No, but neither have most of those so-called admirals.”
Gaspard’s frown deepened. “But that is merely the formal part of my argument. I must add my personal observation as well, and it is this: your innate abilities will more than compensate for the unevenness of your professional preparation. I do not pretend to be an expert on military matters, but as a diplomat, one of my most important skills is to be able to assess the character and capabilities of the individuals around me. Yours are beyond reproach; you are, as the American expression has it, the right person for this job, Captain—no:
Commodore
—Riordan.”
“Well, perhaps.” Riordan shook his head. “But I’ll never be much of a diplomat.”
Gaspard’s smile widened. “So you keep claiming, in blatant disregard of all the evidence to the contrary. What you mean to say is that you do not wish to be a diplomat and that you have never claimed that as your career. But it has apparently chosen you. With enviable clarity, it would seem to me.”
Riordan discovered that he was smiling slightly. “If I didn’t know better,” he commented, “I’d say that sounds like a compliment.”
“I suppose it does.” Gaspard almost smiled back. “Come; we must inform the others of what roles they will play when the legation is divided.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
The Third Silver Tower and Outer system; BD +02 4076 Two (“Disparity”)
After Gaspard left the room with the members of the legation who were continuing on to Beta Aquilae, Riordan sat in silence, letting the others absorb all that they’d been told. The entirety of the surviving security contingent—Bannor, Tygg, Peter Wu, and Miles O’Garran—had received the news with the disinterested detachment of professional soldiers. So much of their life had been defined by getting unceremoniously shipped from one strange place to another that it hardly made any impression on them now.
Karam Tsaami didn’t react much differently. He’d been piloting in different systems for almost ten years. Probably the only way in which this was a change from his accustomed routine was that he was going to keep seeing a lot of the same faces: in his line of work, that had been a rarity.
Tina Melah and Phil Friel sat close together and had actually smiled upon hearing the news; anything that kept them together was apparently fine by them. Melissa Sleeman’s exchange of glances with Tygg strongly suggested that, although their mutual attraction might be at an earlier stage of development, it was every bit as strong.
The only person who looked at all ill-at-ease was also the only person whom Caine had been surprised to be named to his team, and apparently at her express request: Pandora Veriden. Her arms crossed, she furtively looked at the others, her frown contrasting oddly with the surprised expression on her face. Riordan had the distinct impression that the source of her surprise was herself, or more specifically, that she had asked for this posting. She certainly could have elected to continue her lucrative contract as Etienne’s personal security expert, and Riordan suspected that if Downing were here, he would have been of the opinion that she should continue on in that role.
But she had chosen otherwise once Yiithrii’ah’aash had assured Gaspard and Caine, repeatedly and effusively, that the legation would not be exposed to further risk. A shift-carrier designed for war—
Unassailable Aerie
—had arrived to carry them to Beta Aquilae. And several security ROVs that seemed to be almost as autonomous as robots now followed the remaining legation personnel everywhere, their sensors alert, the crowns of their small pop-turrets just barely visible.
Karam was the first to speak. “Morgan’s not coming with us? He could be pretty handy if we run into any trouble—and if he can keep from shitting his shorts.”
Despite her hard-assed self, Dora giggled. Positively giggled.
Riordan smiled. “No: he can’t be spared. Part of the deal we worked out with Yiithrii’ah’aash is that Morgan gets to look at a variety of shipboard systems while traveling with them, and later on as well. Including their shift-drive.”
“Which seems to have better than a one light-year range advantage over the Arat Kur drive,” Bannor murmured with a satisfied nod.
“Exactly. With all the technical intelligence we got from the Arat Kur, and now the Slaasriithi, we’ll be a lot closer to achieving parity with the Ktor.”
Dora folded her arms again. “Exactly what is
our
end of this deal you worked out with the Slaasriithi? And why do I think it has to do with our heading to Delta Pavonis Three?”
Riordan shook his head. “I’d like to be able to answer that, Dora, but I can’t.”
Neither Dora’s face, nor her eyes, moved. “You can’t answer, or you
won’t
answer?”
Riordan just smiled.
Dora nodded. “Yeah. I thought so. Okay, no surprises. So how do we get there?”
“Yiithrii’ah’aash is taking us. We bring all our gear, the armored shuttle the Ktor left behind, all their gear, the clone for continued debriefing, and they repair
Puller
on the way. According to your specifications, Karam. Morgan’s going over the finer points of our engineering and our weapon systems with them right now, but I don’t expect any problems; our technology is embarrassingly basic compared to theirs.”
Tina’s face had contracted into a vinegary frown. “Why are we taking the clone equipment with us? Hardly seems to be worth the space.”
“Well, firstly, it’s all evidence. And we’re taking everything of forensic value back with us, including the bodies.”
And particularly the two mostly-intact Ktor. We didn’t get a chance to harvest any usable DNA from Shethkador, but now we’ve got sources that can’t invoke diplomatic privilege and immunity.
“But secondly, in a pinch, we might have want of their gear. Any gear, for that matter.”
“What, us? Hell, you’re a commodore now. Bannor’s a Major. We should be able to whistle up whatever we need, I figure!”
Phil smiled, slipped a hand in Tina’s. “And how are we going to do that? Just dock
Puller
wherever we please and draw from any installation’s stores? We won’t have business being in any system we pass through. They won’t have any record of
Puller
on any inbound carrier’s manifest. And if they did have any record of us, they’re not going to be rolling out the welcome mat; they’re going to hit the alarm button, because we’ll be about fifty light years away from our last reported position. And if they were to ask us how we got there—”
Her eyes opened wide. “God, yes: we won’t have arrived in a human shift carrier.”
Karam leaned back, scowling. “Hell, considering just how far under the radar this mission will have to run, our side won’t have any indication that any shift-carrier arrived in the system at all. Given what I’ve seen of Slaasriithi shift precision, they’re going to be coming in behind gas giants, run slow and silent while they take on fuel, and then begin preacceleration for the next shift.”
Riordan nodded. “That’s the expectation. The Slaasriithi are also loaning us some of their technology and technical specialists to help make our job a little easier, but we won’t get a chance to look
inside
their machinery. Their technical specialists are also duennas for their high-tech toys.”
“What kind of toys?” Sleeman asked eagerly.
“We’ll have a few of those high speed drone-fighters we saw in orbit: ‘cannonballs,’ according to the apt Ktoran slang. And a few of the autonomous munitions platforms like the one we used at the river battle, but larger.”
Dora leaned far back in her chair. “All weaponry. Why do I not like the sound of that and what it implies about our mission for Yiithrii’ah’aash?”
Riordan shrugged. “With any luck at all, we’ll have no reason to use it as anything other than insurance or leverage. But if we do, then we let the Slaasriithi ROVs both dish out and take the heat instead of us.”
O’Garran nodded. “I like the sound of
that
.”
Karam scratched his left ear. “There’s something I
don’t
like the sound of: the length of the trip.”
Caine nodded. “Yeah, it’s long.”
“How long?” Dora asked quickly.
“Six shifts to get back into human space at 70 Ophiuchi. Another three shifts to our, uh, final destination.”
Veriden rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like I don’t know it’s Delta Pavonis.”
Caine smiled but ignored her. “All told, we’ll be lucky to get there by the second week of February.”
“That’s another four god-damned months!” Tina Melah cried.
“It is,” Caine agreed. “And you’ll be spending them in cold-sleep, just like you did on the way out here.”
Melissa’s eyes were wide with interest. “Can the Slaasriithi cold cells be adjusted to handle us?”
Caine shrugged. “They seem to think so, but we’re not going to find out. Since our best medical tests and scanners haven’t been able to detect their organics in our bloodstreams, we’re not about to take the risk of giving them our whole body to infuse. So we’ll rig the long-duration escape pods on
Puller
for the job.”
Dora folded her arms again. “They’re quad pods. That leaves two of us without a berth.”
“There’s a medical cold-cell in sick bay; that will provide for a ninth person.”
“There are ten of us,” Dora persisted.
Riordan smiled. “So we’ll draw straws. In the meantime, I’ll brief you on what I know of our mission during the preacceleration toward our first shift. That way, when everyone is awakened, we’ll be ready for an update and can hit the ground running. And once we’re done, we should be able to get back home to Earth a lot faster than before.”
Tygg frowned. “How?”
“Just before we left Sigma Draconis, I heard talk about the Republic setting up an express service out to the Big Green Main using one or two of the captured Arat Kur shift carriers. With their greater range and reduced turn-around time, travel back to Earth should be reduced from six shifts to four, and only twelve weeks, total.”
“That’s still a long time,” Dora complained, “even from
Delta Pavonis
.”
Riordan just nodded: every day was a long time when you hadn’t seen your soul-mate in nine months and hadn’t seen your son in—well, forever. “It will be good to get home,” he sighed. “We’ve been away too long.” He hung his head and laughed. “As I count it, I now owe my son Connor fourteen birthday presents. And his mother a proper proposal.”
Noticing the sudden silence, Caine looked up, discovered an oddly changed scene. Bannor, Tygg, Peter, Miles, and Karam were staring at the floor, faces wooden; the rest were staring at them, baffled.
“What is it with you guys?” Dora leaned forward. “Did someone die?”
Rulaine looked up, quick and hard. “Shut up.”
Dora blinked, frowned, opened her mouth.
“Just shut up, Dora.” He turned to Caine—who, seeing Bannor’s eyes, had the sudden sense that he might vomit: he’d seen eyes like that before. At funeral homes and intensive care wards.
“What is it?” Riordan asked. “What haven’t I been told?”
“Look,” started Bannor, hands opening into an appeal. “I didn’t know—none of us did—that you didn’t know about it. Not at first, and then—”
“That I didn’t know about
what
, god damn it?” Riordan held his voice level, wasn’t sure if he’d be able to manage that measure of self-control again.
“Caine, if you go back to Earth, you won’t find her—Elena—there.”
Riordan’s thoughts spun off on their own, uncertain, inchoate. “Not on Earth? Why?”
Bannor opened his mouth, then looked away. Peter Wu took up the tale. “Commodore, back in Jakarta, after we took the Arat Kur headquarters, how much do you recall right after Shethkador shot you in the back with his environmental suit’s manipulator arm?”
Riordan frowned. “I—I don’t remember much. I remember falling. I remember most of you were there. I remember Elena screaming, her brother Trevor trying to call in a med-team. I remember feeling that arm sticking out of my back…”
The arm that was no longer attached to Shethkador’s faux environmental suit when Caine had confronted him again at Sigma Draconis, where the Ktor was still masquerading as a cold-planet entity calling itself Apt-Counsel-of-Lenses, and where—
—Apt-Counsel rolled closer to the platform. Caine watched for the angle of the manipulator arm, saw that it had not been replaced. And saw that the other arm was missing as well: a prudent precaution…
But what if the other arm
hadn’t
been removed as a prudent precaution? What if—?
“Shethkador shot Elena with the other arm a moment after you fell in Jakarta.” It was Rulaine’s voice again: bitter, tight, hating every word. “She was turning when he shot her. It hit her in the spleen, and a piece of the arm lodged in her spine. The two of you were assessed; our docs thought they might be able to save you, tried, had to ice you so that the Dornaani could work their medical magic later on.
“But they didn’t spend one second wondering if they could save Elena; she would have been dead within the hour. The Dornaani offered to mend her if they could, and the docs turned her over. They put her in one of their own ICU cold cells and took her away. At first, we thought Downing must have told you when they woke you up. We never guessed—”
“No, the son of a bitch never told me. Of course, he never tells me anything, never commits to anything.” Riordan didn’t remember getting to his feet. “But that’s going to change next time I meet him. Or he won’t walk away from that meeting.”
Riordan wasn’t paying attention to his tone of voice, wasn’t even bothering to choose his words. When he looked around the room again, he had paced halfway across the ring of chairs. The other nine were sitting up very straight; O’Garran had grown pale, Dora looked like she was ready to run, Tina’s eyes were wide.
Tygg’s voice rose behind him. “Caine, I was with Trevor when they took Elena away. Downing was right to do it. There wasn’t any other choice.”
“Maybe not. But he could have left me on Earth to be with her, to take care of Connor. And he sure as shit had the choice to tell me about it when they yanked me out of my cold cell.”
Rulaine’s voice dragged like a lame dog, moving in a direction it had to go, but wanted very badly not to. “I’m not sure Downing really had a choice then, either, Caine.”
“Why? Was he under some kind of gag order?”
“He didn’t have to be under any order, Caine. He simply had to read the strategic tea leaves.”
Riordan turned. “What sort of bullshit are you talking, Bannor?”
“No bullshit; straight, hard facts, Caine. Come on, think it through. First of all, they needed you at Sigma Draconis. Downing knew that, and he was right. If it hadn’t been for you, would we have found out that the Ktor were human? More to the point, would we have learned it in time to keep that bastard Shethkador from tricking us into bombing the Arat Kur out of existence? You were the linchpin that day, Caine; your presence was the indispensable variable.”
“Bullshit.”
“You can say bullshit all you want, and wear that combination of real and false modesty all day long, but you know I’m telling the truth. You smelled the lie that Shethkador was peddling; you pieced it together. That was the moment we stepped back from xenocide, Caine—and not a moment before. And you’re going to tell me Downing wasn’t right to have you there? But he had to have you in that room undistracted by the knowledge that your lover was frozen on death’s doorstep light years away, and your son was a veritable orphan.” Bannor, seeing Riordan paralyzed by the terrible truth of his words, stopped abruptly, hung his head to stare at his tightly clasped hands.
