Star Risk - 03 The Doublecross Program (11 page)

"If we decided to have you arrested, and bring you to trial on certainly capital charges," Suiyahr said, "wouldn't we have crippled the Khelat war effort considerably and saved ourselves a great deal of money? I rather imagine you are quite expensive."

"Quite," Friedrich said amiably. "But that would hardly be the wisest of decisions, since it would certainly anger our colleagues and make them more intent on your conquest.

"Not to mention that the presence of Star Risk, working for the Shaoki instead of the Khelat, with our strategies and advisors, could bring this war to an end.

"With a victory for the Shaoki!"

Riss was admiring von Baldur's logic in keeping them out of a deathcell, and was starting to relax when she noticed his fingers, under the table, were crossed and white.

"A final victory," Diaya said, and Riss saw a glitter in his eyes, just as she'd seen it from King Saleph. "Something our predecessors on the council were unable to realize!"

"Peace," Suiyahr agreed, sounding hungry, "and a final settlement with the Khelat!"

M'chel did relax then.

From here on out, it would be nothing but wrangling about the numbers.

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FOURTEEN � ^ � No," Technician Ells said to Riss, "we'll not be leaving with you."

"Why not?"

"We made a contract with the benighted Khelat before your arrival, and we'll stick by it."

"Will your men and women back you?"

"I'll not ask them," he said. "Not because I'm afraid of their vote, but because of consideration for you."

"Oh?"

"People talk," Ells said. "And I doubt our peerless princes and king would think kindly of being abandoned if they found out. But thank you for giving us the option."

Two of the mercenary units also determined to stay.

"They're thinking," Hore said, in some amusement, "that with you gone, somebody'll have to be the head mother, and it might as well be them."

"They think," Goodnight said, also finding it funny, "they can just tippie-toe in and get the same contract we did?"

"A better joke," Hore said, watching the last of his men file onto waiting transports, "is that we're talking about soldiers for hire and thinking in the same breath. Now that's funny."

The next dawn found a lot of emptiness around various worlds of the Khelat.

Star Risk was gone, with its clerks and specialists, as were Hore's command and Inchcape's destroyers and Vian's patrol ships.

Khelat had suffered only half a dozen casualties in Star Risk's leaving, all of them overly ambitious security people, none of them fatal.

King Saleph raged in vain to Princes Barab and Jer.

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FIFTEEN � ^ � There were almost six hundred members of the council. All but a handful were assembled in a grand hall, listening to Friedrich von Baldur, who wore a rather grandiose uniform of his own design. He was about three-quarters through his speech.

Over the hall patrolled not only Shaoki ships, but Inchcape's destroyers on the fringes of the atmosphere and, closer in, Vian's patrol ships.

The hall was too juicy a target to not cover thoroughly, even though no one in Star Risk was convinced the Khelat even knew they'd switched sides, let alone be able to mount an attack at short notice.

Still�

"We shall assist your cause on two fronts," von Baldur said. "The first is helping your officers and soldiers realize their full potential.

"The second, which I believe, in the long run, is the most important, is economic. Not only does Star Risk believe the Shaoki have been denied their place in the sun for far too long, but we also feel the Shaoki should dominate the riches of this cluster.

"With such domination, the systems and worlds which remain barren can be developed, and every man of the Shaoki be a prince!"

There were cheers. Von Baldur bowed.

"But we are men and women of action," he went on. "Not words. So when I next appear before you, I want to have concrete accomplishments to show you. Now is the time for work!"

Again, cheers, and again, a bow.

Von Baldur, smiling, left the stage, where the others of Star Risk waited.

"What's this two-front deal?" Goodnight asked. "What've you got in mind, besides beating the Khelat bum?"

"Later," von Baldur said. "I�or rather M'chel�shall explain, in a quieter place. Right now, as I said, let us put the boys to work."

"Awright," Goodnight said. "Grok's put the antibugs in place� So what's this second front we're supposed to open?"

Von Baldur was still busy critically surveying the amenities of their quarters.

The Shaoki called it a mansion, but in their building scheme it was actually three floors in one of the ultrahigh-rises. Star Risk had specified a pair of elevators that went nowhere but to their lodgings, put in security on the floor above and below their three.

Jasmine had asked who'd been the previous occupant, was told it was a council member whose "performance had been lacking."

"Since it's my idea," Riss said, "I'll explain.

"Dov� the late General Lanchester� happened to mention that a corporation named Omni Foods has the whip hand on half a dozen members of the Alliance Parliament."

"So?" Goodnight snorted. "What's new about corporations buying politicos?"

"Nothing," M'chel said. "However, Omni Foods is the main buyer of the Khelat main, that spicy tea that I think should be used to wash toilets."

"I say again my last," Goodnight said. "So?"

"So we're going to hire ourselves a lobbyist back on Earth who can figure out who these six are. We'll contact them and inform them that there's a power struggle going on out in the Khelat-Shaoki cluster.

"I still don't get it."

"If we are winning," Friedrich put in, "we surely don't want a few battalions of Alliance Marines showing up on the Khelat side to even the odds."

"Oh," Goodnight said. "That has been known to happen."

"It has," Riss said. "I was on a couple of those expeditionary forces.

"The other benefit it has is for one or another of those six politicos to put the word back to Omni Foods that there may be a change in who controls the main. Omni Foods will get the word, and unquestionably want to be in on the ground floor if the Shaoki control things."

"Which means bribes, I would guess," Grok said.

"Channeled through us," Goodnight said. "Now I get it. So that'll keep the Alliance off our asses, put some money inbound, which'll make the Shaoki Council happy, and we get a rake-off. Not bad, Major."

"I thought it was downright sneaky."

I have never done this before, Jasmine thought, but didn't show any sign of her uncertainty.

She looked up and down the gigantic range, at the two hundred Shaoki soldiers in prone firing position behind their blasters, and nodded as arrogantly as she knew how to the Shaoki officer.

"You may order your troops to open fire, sir."

The Shaoki keyed a throat mike.

"Make ready� take aim� fire!"

The range erupted in explosions.

A hundred meters downrange, large targets, carefully made to be almost unmissable, swayed and shook as blaster bolts impacted.

The sound crescendoed, then died to a few hesitant cracks as either the sluggish or the most precise emptied their magazines.

Jasmine had her binocs up, sweeping the targets.

If the Khelat soldiery were about twice the size of Grok, she might have been impressed.

But she showed no sign of displeasure.

There were about fifty Shaoki officers in the small amphitheater-classroom, listening to Grok.

"Now," the monster said, "remember what we learned yesterday, that all intelligence taken in is to be evaluated carefully, not on whether or not it bears with your opinions, but on its raw dependability."

The officers, all assigned to intelligence staffs of various Shaoki divisions, hung on Grok's every word.

But he didn't think he was really communicating.

"One way to evaluate an intelligence report," he went on, "is considering how accurate is the source, from someone who's provided valuable data in the past to someone known to be a liar; then how accurate the datum itself is, from personally witnessed to an unreliable rumor."

He still didn't think he was getting through, but kept on hammering.

***

Colonel, now de facto General, Mik Hore considered his battalion.

It had changed considerably.

It had doubled in size, the additional men and women Shaoki. Supposedly, they were fully trained, and were attached to Hore for positional training.

Every mercenary ammo bearer had a Shaoki partner, as did every squad leader, every platoon leader, company commander.

Each Shaoki would hopefully learn what it was like to be part of a combat battalion, then, when the hurried training was finished, would train other battalions. Like oil on water, this initial knowledge would spread throughout the Shaoki army.

Which, Hore thought sourly, would be fine.

Until the first day of combat, when everything would fall apart.

As it always did.

Goodnight listened to his own breathing's echo in the suit recycler.

He and thirty Shaoki were crouched in the dust of one of Shaoki IV's moons. They were atop a low rise. Ahead of them was a low concrete building.

He extended a com lead to the Shaoki officer beside him, who touched it to a contact.

"Now, Major," Goodnight said. "From here, we do what, having spotted that possible enemy position down there?"

"I would send a section down that draw, to verify that it is hostile."

"Not quite," Chas said. "First, you send a com section back down the hill, and, with a directional mike, report your discovery to your ship in its orbit. You can make the probable assumption that it's unfriendly, since you're reconning a Khelat world, remember?"

"Ah. Yes. I just forgot. But after I send the report, then I put forward a team, right?"

Goodnight shook his head.

Sometimes it was like pounding sand.

"Not unless you're in a hurry," he said. "It's better if you put the position under observation for a while first. Meantime, spread out your force so that you've got a complete field of fire, as well. If you then observe movement, engage the target."

"But suppose the target is civilian?"

"If you feel humanitarian," he said patiently, "send out a sacrificial lamb or two to take prisoners. But don't expect them to be grateful for your kindness."

Pounding sand�

"Now, here you are," Riss told the battery commander.

There were four multiple rocket launchers positioned in the draw between hills.

"Enemy forces advance toward you, up the draw."

Robot tracks swung into view.

The officer issued brisk orders, and rockets crashed out, screamed toward the robots, impacted around them. The officer was about to issue orders for another firing when Riss interrupted.

"To your surprise," she said, "a second force comes over the hilltop here."

She pointed, and the artilleryman saw another group of small robots wheel into sight.

"Fire mission!" the officer shouted. "As previous, advancing enemy tracks�"

"What about this new enemy?" Riss asked. "They're closer, and a bigger threat."

"We were ordered to stop an attack up the draw," the officer said stubbornly. "One mission at a time."

There were a dozen ranking staff officers in the domed chamber, sitting around von Baldur.

In front of them hung a sun and four planets and their moons.

Von Baldur touched a sensor, and the scene shifted to a close shot of two of the moons, the planet just on the edge of the picture.

"The situation is quite simple," he said. "Your unit has been using this moon as a mask to close on the world. As you are coming out�"

Small red dots that were ships sprang to life.

"�getting ready for your attack on the main world, which were your orders, you're ambushed."

Other dots, these blue, moved from behind the other moon.

"You are outnumbered," von Baldur continued. "Admiral Fregnard, what is your response?"

"We break from our attack formation, swing until we are facing the new enemy," the officer said briskly. "Then we attack."

"I remind you, you are outnumbered."

"That does not matter! No unit I lead will ever retreat!"

Von Baldur sighed.

It was late. Jasmine made silent rounds before shutting down for the night.

All was quiet, all was still.

Friedrich von Baldur sat in one of the living rooms, glooming at a decanter and an untouched snifter.

He looked up as Jasmine entered, forced a smile.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said. "Everything."

"Such as?"

"Perhaps we took on too great a task in this system. The Khelat are worthless, and the Shaoki are worse. We could be training them for the next century, and I do not think they would still make candidates for the rear rank."

"That's one sort of job security," Jasmine suggested, sitting down, sliding the snifter over, and sipping.

"That is not what I wanted with Star Risk," von Baldur said. "Not what any of us wanted."

"True."

"I always considered the probability of being killed, but it would be a damned crime to be killed working for these morons," Friedrich said.

"I was thinking about that lobbyist we are going to hire. He probably makes twice what we do, without any danger. I could have been him, could have done that."

"Freddie," Jasmine put in, her voice a little sharp, "you're chasing your own tail."

Von Baldur grunted, got to his feet.

"You are right, of course. I shall stop brooding."

"Damned well better," Jasmine said.

Von Baldur left, and Jasmine nursed the rest of his brandy. At last, she decided it was time to consult with M'chel.

"I think," Riss said, the next evening before dinner, when the team assembled for its customary drink, "it's time that we do something drastic."