Rhythm of the Imperium (8 page)

The bridge was “up” a deck on its own in the center of the command center. A mechanical lift ran up to it, but it was not operational, even to one with my credentials. I sprang up the coated metal stairs that spiraled around it.

That chamber, which usually held eight or so bridge officers and the captain, a celebrated officer named Melane Wold, was crowded with humans, Uctu and Wichu, in uniform. I excused and pardoned my way through them toward the center seat, but it was unoccupied. I glanced around. All the senior officers, including all of my crew from the
Rodrigo
, were absent. Parsons was nowhere in sight.

Lieutenant Hamesworth, a sturdy young woman with very short-clipped silver-and-blue hair, whose rank was second helmswoman, glanced up at me.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said. The Wichu navigator beside her gave me a curt nod.

“What is going on?” I asked. “My cousins and I were looking forward to going groundside.”

Hamesworth looked a little sheepish.

“I can’t say, my lord.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t,” Lieutenant Argelev, the Wichu, said. “They’re all in the captain’s ready room.” He nodded toward the side of the command center. Of the three doors set into that wall, one was surrounded by tiny red lights, indicating No Entry.

I began to be concerned for our well-being. I wondered if I should abandon my present course of action to go instruct my cousins and sister to hide in the diverse locations that had been made secure for their safety? What excuse would I give? Persuading them to play hide-and-seek was one thing. Dashing into the room and insisting on a game without further explanation when we were supposed to be preparing for a grand day out would be greeted with eye-rolls and derisive laughter.

No, I needed to know more.

“What event in the last six hours made them want to hold a conference?” I asked. I indicated the press of bodies around me. “Obviously, all of
you
know what has occurred, and you are awaiting some outcome. Won’t you please tell me what it is?”

Argelev snickered.

“You’re just going to have to wait to find out, sir, my lord.”

“I disagree most fervently with that assessment, lieutenant,” I said. “I seldom wait. I am always seeking.”

In the absence of Parsons, I realized I was going to have to do my own frowning and pondering. Therefore, I frowned and pondered. If the matter was a life-threatening one, the
Jaunter
would have removed itself from orbit and made for a safe location, leaving the naval support ships to provide safe escape for her. Therefore, it was not immediately life-threatening. It had not been known before, or some arrangement would have been made in advance to cope with it. Therefore, it had come as an unwelcome surprise. It was a potential threat that affected the entire ship, or the rest of the crew would not be occupying less than optimum space per being in the bridge, nor would the captain have allowed so many to have left their stations. Therefore, it could affect every department. I did not see Parsons. Therefore, he was in on the discussion, making it important across more departments than just the navy. No one had informed me or my cousins as to what that event was, so it was something that would inconvenience us and cause annoyance that would cause us to complain and demand a solution. Therefore, they wanted to confer before they approached us with a change of plans. I thought, under those circumstances, it was within my right to ask for details. I could at least forestall the last of the concerns by bringing accurate information back to my cousins and friends.

With many more excuses and pardons, I threaded my way through to the secure door. I knocked upon it.

“No admittance,” the door said. Its voice was similar but not identical to the wall near the lift. I presented my viewpad to the electric eye next to the frame. “I am sorry, Lord Thomas, but this conference is closed to those of noble rank.”

“Ah, but I am also an officer,” I said. “A senior officer, at that. I am the commander of the
Rodrigo
, a naval ship with armaments and offensive capabilities, in the hold of this very vessel. Look here.” I changed the setting to my naval credentials and turned the screen back toward the eye.

“Your pardon, sir,” the door said. It promptly slid aside. “Please enter at once.”

CHAPTER 8

“This isn’t funny,”
Whiskerchin
’s Captain Bedelev concluded, her face close to the video pickup. The officers clustered in the
Jaunter
’s ready room listened intently. “I’m stuck in my cabin. Most of us are! As soon as we went off shift, our doors stopped working! My people can’t get into their stations
or
out of them. They’re worried that the environmental systems are gonna shut down at any moment, and there’s not a flerking thing we can do about it! So am I! That snoff-faced Kail has got the whole ship under his control. We’re stuck! If you can see this message, get us out of here! Or if you can’t save us, nuke the ship from space. Harro knows who else those stone-assed giants will take over next.”

The transmission blacked out, to be replaced by the Imperium seal. The six humans and two Uctu at the oval table in the small chamber sat back in their molded seats, troubled expressions mirrored on all their faces. The two captains of the naval escort ships, Captain Colwege and Captain Lopez were present, courtesy of the tri-dee projectors in the ceiling, making it look as if they sat at the table, too. Ormalus, the Uctu communications officer, switched off the system. The mechanism lowered itself into the surface of the table.

Captain Melane Wold looked up from the screen. A slightly built human of average height with large eyes and hollow cheeks accentuating the shapely bones of xir face, xir delicate features belied the resilience and toughness reflected in xir service record. Xe wore a grim expression.

“And that’s the ship that came into orbit around Counterweight at the same time we did,” xe said, turning a slim hand upward. Xe glanced at Parsons, who occupied the seat at xir right hand. “I’ve taken evasive maneuvers to ensure that we’re not in a common vector with it. The helm is ready to blast us out of here immediately if we have to.”

Parsons nodded. “Your precautions are admirable, Captain.”

The rest of the officers, Lieutenant Plet included, nodded and murmured agreement.

“Carrying too many of the Imperium’s precious eggs in one basket,” Wold said, wrinkling xir nose. “The crew’s been running scenarios from the moment we heard this trip was in the offing. There was no chance I’d put the Emperor’s cousins in jeopardy.”

“We’re keeping fighters ready to launch in case the Wichu ship makes a move,” Lopez said. She was a tall woman with patrician features and warm brown complexion. Colwege, a white-haired, snub-nosed man with black, button-like eyes, nodded agreement.

“His Highness will appreciate your vigilance.” Parsons said, gravely.

“But now what do we do? How did the Kail take over the
Whiskerchin
?” Wold asked. “They don’t seem to care whether their captives communicate with the outside world. Do they think that they’re unassailable?”

“Aren’t they afraid we’ll open fire on them?” asked Commander Atwell, the Jaunter’s ordnance officer. He smacked a fist down on the tabletop. “That’s an act of piracy! We’d be within our rights to take them down.”

“No one wants to see a loss of life,” Parsons replied, his voice a soothing lull. “The Wichu is carrying a number of civilians. Has anyone asked the Kail what they want?”

“Of course we did!” Wold said, spots of hectic color appearing on xir cheeks. “They don’t want to talk to us. They’re demanding to speak to Proton Zang. I’ve told them that it hasn’t arrived yet. They insist that it has, but they don’t know where. They want us to bring it to them.”

“Have they said how they are aware of the Zang’s presence?” Parsons inquired. Wold shook xir head and opened xir mouth to speak.

At that moment, the door slid open, and a head popped in. The appearance of the newcomer provoked a fragment of amusement in Parsons, but he kept his face from revealing it.

“Lord Thomas,” he said in a level voice.

“What ho, Parsons?” the young man said, cheerfully. His face was flush with triumph, as though he had achieved some minor victory. He turned and offered a handsome salute to the senior officer. “Good morning, captain. Captains.” He extended his greeting to the two holograms.

“Lord Thomas,” Wold said, narrowing xir eyes slightly. “How did you get in here? Every system is on emergency lockdown!”

“The door didn’t stop me.” The young noble held up his viewpad. His military identification showed on the small screen. “I showed it my credentials, and it let me in.”

“I’ll have a word with it! You shouldn’t have been able to pass!”

“His duties, captain,” Parsons said. He checked his chronometer. Lord Thomas was a few seconds ahead of the time Parsons had estimated he might arrive. “As I told you, Lord Thomas requires access to the scout ship.”

As evidenced by the strands of silver peeking through the captain’s thick hair, xe had not been born within the last forty-eight hours. Xe gave Parsons a searching look, asking for further explanation. Thomas did not miss the expression. He saluted again.

“Lieutenant-Captain Lord Thomas Kinago at your service. My sister told me that no shuttles are going down to the surface. We’re all panting to begin our touristing. Is there some way I may be of assistance? Perhaps my ship the
Rodrigo
could be pressed into service if the shuttles are otherwise occupied?”

“You’re attached to the
Rodrigo
?” Wold asked, with an air of disbelief.

Thomas lowered his eyes modestly. “It is, in fact, attached to me. It’s my ship. I am its senior officer.”

“Lieutenant Plet is the commanding officer of record,” Wold replied, with a nod toward the severe-looking blonde woman sitting on one side of the table.

Thomas smiled in a supercilious fashion. “Yes, that’s the way the official record reads, but I hold superior rank to her. And to you. No offense, of course.”

“With all due respect, your lordship, that has nothing to
do
with …”

Parsons thought it best to intervene.

“If I may, captain? I need to impart a piece of confidential information that must not be known outside this room … ?”

Wold collected nods from xir assemblage of officers. The Uctu communications officer palmed a control that threw an additional barrier of interference in the case of eavesdroppers. Wold returned his gaze to Parsons. “Well?”

Parsons tented his fingers. “It is this: Lord Thomas has been of use, now and again, in service to the Imperium, on covert missions. In a quiet way, of course.”

“A noble?” Wold asked, disbelievingly. “Useful?”

“I take umbrage with that tone, with all due respect, captain,” Thomas said, looking hurt. “I’m brighter than I appear.”

“If you really want to be of use, my lord, please go back to your day room,” Captain Wold said, setting xir jaw. “It would help if you would keep your relatives busy while we deal with this crisis. That would be the most helpful thing you could accomplish.”

Thomas’s eyebrows flew up. So did his hands, which curved gracefully over his head. Parsons recognized the motion as second position. He raised his own eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter. Thomas dropped his arms at once to his sides.

“So there is a crisis. I thought so. What is in the offing? I’m sure I can help. Anything to clear the logjam. My cousins are eager to get to the surface of Counterweight as soon as we can. We all have activities planned.”

“No,” Wold said, lowering xir brows. “We’re not landing personnel there, and certainly none of you … aristocrats … until the alert is cleared.”

Lopez cleared her throat. “We advise against it, my lord,” she added.

“We don’t need fuel or supplies at this time,” put in Commander Tamber, the first officer, a stocky, older man with a nearly bald head. “Should we program in the coordinates of the next way station, captain? We can leave orbit with the bulk of the planet between us.”

“No, please don’t!” Thomas pleaded, his sea-blue eyes pools of abject appeal. “I’d sooner spend the rest of the journey in a cage with wild animals than my sister if she is thwarted of her elephant safari.”

“Her
what
?” Atwell asked. Lord Thomas spread his hands, a helpless look on his face.

“A sightseeing journey on animal-back. Antique mode of transportation, and uncomfortable, I would guess, but Nell finds satisfaction in reliving the modes of yesteryear. She might even try to take a pair or so of the elephants home with her, if she finds them to her liking. I wonder if you could find a secure pen in which to hold them on our return journey, captain?”

“That matter is of little importance at this time, my lord,” Parsons said, with a quelling glance. His lordship was not of a mood to be quelled, but he was able to distinguish between the present and the future. He turned an open and helpful countenance toward the commanding officer.

“Then what is? Believe it or not, captain, I can keep a secret. You won’t believe what our brother has in mind for Mother’s next birthday present! It’s quite amazing … but I’m not allowed to tell. It could so easily get back to her.” He leaned forward, confidentially. “The walls have ears, you know, in spite of your gadgets and devices.”

Whether the reference to the First Space Lord was inadvertent or craftily deliberate, it made the officers surrounding the oval table, including those present by holography, sit up straight. Wold looked torn between two equally unpalatable decisions. It was not lost upon them that Lord Thomas Kinago was the son of Admiral Tariana Kinago Loche. Parsons felt matters begin to move in the direction that he felt would accomplish the greatest good. A plan had formulated itself in his mind, one that might lead to a bloodless solution. He would not have to lend even a modicum of persuasion to get the captain to allow Lord Thomas to be involved.

“May he be seated?” Parsons inquired, with a casual turn of his hand. “At this point it would be less harmful to inform him fully than to send him back without being apprised of the entire gravity of the situation.”

“Oh, very well!” Wold waved Lord Thomas to an empty chair beside Plet. The young noble took the steps in short leaps, and twirled once before sitting down. Plet rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Exec?”

Without rerunning the message from the
Whiskerchin’
s captain, First Officer Tamber gave an admirably quick precis of what had already been detailed to the rest of the officers.

“They want to speak to the Zang in advance?” Lord Thomas asked, at the conclusion.

“That appears to be their aim,” Parsons said. Lord Thomas’s eyes went wide.

“Why now? They could have a word with it when we all get to the platform. Why take over the ship that was carrying them in the very direction they wanted to go, to bring them to the very beings they wish to speak with?”

“We do not know. It is not easy to speculate upon the Kail’s motives. Once we all reach the viewing platform, the ambassador and his staff will take up much of the Kail’s time. The Zang will, I presume, be absorbed in preparing for their spectacle. They may not remain long after it has been concluded. If the Kail wish to have a private conference, it would be wise to do it ahead of time.”

“Why now?” Thomas repeated. “They could have made a request to speak to a Zang any time, couldn’t they?”

“Isn’t it difficult to encounter one?” Captain Wold asked. “The diplomats said we only know where this one is because it asked to observe us.”

“Sounds like the Kail know how to find them if they managed to determine that Proton Zang was coming here,” Thomas said, toying with the controls for the display console. It started to rise. Plet reached over and clapped her hand on the “down” switch. The mechanism subsided. Lord Thomas grinned at her. “It’s a useful talent, Zang-detection. We ought to ask how they do it. We might have Zang zinging all over the place in the Imperium and never know it.”

“But Lord Thomas is right, Commander,” Plet put in. “If they can contact the Zang, why didn’t they do it before leaving Kail space?”

“It may be that the Zang don’t like visiting Kail space,” Thomas said heartily. “I hear it’s desolate. Lots of planets, precious little life except for the ugly creatures themselves. No greenery at all.”

“We have no confirmation that the Zang prefer planets with plant life,” Parsons reminded him. Thomas looked abashed.

“Quite right, Parsons. I’m afraid, despite my eager anticipation of the spectacle ahead, I have not devoted much time to the study of our host species, only of their past demonstrations of planet-pruning.”

“If you don’t mind, my lord … ?” Captain Wold said, pointedly. Thomas settled back easily in his chair.

“Of course, captain. I was being inconsiderate. Your room, your rules. Pray carry on.”

A low whooping noise erupted. Lieutenant Ormalus flipped open the screen at her table station and ran a disklike fingertip down the scope.

“Sir, program intrusion in progress! From the Wichu ship.”

“What kind?” Wold demanded.

“Attempted breach of computer systems. Database.” The Uctu made passes that caused moving graphics to rise from the screen. She scanned them with narrowed eyes.

“Has it broken our defenses?” Wold asked.

“No.” The coral-skinned female switched her narrow mandible from side to side, emitting a worried clicking noise. She drew one of the charts upward and expanded it. Within the framework, bar codes rose up and down. One near the side of the frame quivered near the top. “Curious.
Navigational
database probe.”

“Well, what do they need that for?” Wold asked. “Navigational charts are in wide usage across the galaxy. They’re posted on the Infogrid, for pity’s sake! What’s wrong with the map system on the Wichu ships?”

“It could be looking for something the Wichu don’t have in their atlas,” Thomas said.

“A star chart isn’t a secret,” Wold said. “The probe isn’t targeting population numbers or defense installations.”

“Then, what?” Tamber asked.

An alarm erupted from Ormalus’s scope. “Penetration!” She pinched the bar in the chart. It shrank at once to the bottom of the frame. “Auto-overrides also operational.”

“Can you tell what it read?” Parsons asked.

“Running diagnostics,” Ormalus said. “Still nav charts. Only nav charts. Peculiar.”