Angolin, p.28
Angolin, page 28
“Blasted basement conduits!”
He gazed around the tiny storeroom’s windowless walls. The view was of no help either. It was mid-Vatternaas, second autumn. The trees swaying in the entrance court and across Nieuw Holland Valley were near peak, and he couldn’t enjoy the sight from down here.
“Ahem!” Nüren stood in the doorway, white-haired and bent with age but sharp-eyed and with an air of rooted authority behind a disarmingly calm expression. He stepped in, allowed the door to slide shut at his back. The two saluted. “Admiral Gennet,” he greeted. “It’s good to see you again after all these years.”
“And you, General Tate. Excuse my surprise.”
“If you’ll excuse my dropping in unannounced. I know you’re busy.”
“I wish busy was my only problem. Until my office is reconstructed, this is my roost, I’m afraid.”
“Of course. The news spread through the GuardMesh like wildfires across the Southern Plains, even to us retired folks.” Nüren shook his head and grunted through tightened, wrinkled lips. “A general of the Guard taking his own life, and in the most dishonorable manner possible. Cowardly can’t begin to describe it. This would never have happened in my day.”
“Neither would the treason behind it. Frankly, General, I wish it were still your day.”
“You have new ones coming.” Nüren shifted tack and beamed. “Your next office may sit beside the bridge of a deep-space vessel before long.”
“Don’t count on that one just yet,” Gennet said stiffly. “I’ll accept the rank conversions, but I can do without change for its own sake. Unless HC orders otherwise, my place is here at Seventh. Forgive me, sir. To what do I owe this visit?”
“There’s no need to stand on that ceremony. We’re equals.”
“In rank only,” said Gennet. “And I spent most of my early career under your wing, so it’s hard not to still call you—”
“You know why I’m here, Vieron. I want to talk to you about my son.”
And we’re on. Gennet offered him the chair opposite his tiny desk. “What would you like to know about the lieutenant commander?”
“Whatever you can tell me. I don’t need such an exacted briefing as you gave Parliament; I’ll spare you a repeat of that. Just tell me about him, not as a Guardsman under your command but as a person.”
“What can I possibly say that you don’t already know?” Gennet said. “He’s intelligent, driven, honorable, takes nothing lying down, and tolerates no taroc crap. He’s easily riled, to put it no further, but I can manage that in him. Truth be told, I’m still getting to know your son, but you must see these things already, sir. You did raise him.”
“Call me Nüren, Vieron. Please.”
“I’ll try.”
Nüren sniffed. “His mother—may Lady Xoraen keep her—and I observed everything you describe in Dharmen his whole life. He was a bright kid and he excelled in school, when he got along with his teachers. And he was honest. He told the truth when we questioned him about a girl he snuck into the house as a teenager. Heh, and a boy he snuck in not long after. Any other kid would have fumbled lies, but not our Dharmen. He looked us both in the eye each time, admitted his mistake, and apologized just like that! Left us speechless. Later on, some boy twice his size tried to bully him over his sexuality, and Dharmen sent him to the infirmary with a broken nose. That was a trial, but the kid should’ve known better than to unleash the raging high flyer in my son. Even then, he wasn’t to be trifled with, but I digress.”
“Not at all,” said Gennet. “I have a son too, as you know, though my wife and I don’t have quite the same stories about him.” He sighed, parental pride evaporating. “The boy’s a cadet now. We’ll see how that goes.”
Nüren’s eyes widened, made evident in the poor light only by the lift of his unruly eyebrows. “I don’t have to tell you that Angolin has a major situation coming. Given what you’ve seen in Dharmen, how do you think he’ll handle the invasion?”
“You doubt him, General?”
“Certainly not! I have utmost faith in him as a soldier and as a man, but I’m only his father.” Nüren’s gaze had been on Gennet, but it seemed far away now. “Dharmen’s an adult, and he’s become one right before my eyes! He has his own life now that I don’t see half of. You’re his superior. I want your professional assessment, that’s all.”
And I thought I was being spared another briefing! “If you want my view as a gen—as an admiral, your son is more than capable of handling the Carmogen. I wouldn’t worry along those lines. As for my personal opinion of him, I’ve headed Seventh for over a decade now, and in that time, I’ve not seen a more determined, hardheaded, honorable officer here. Our lieutenant commander would give himself to the Netherlords before he’d submit to the enemy. I can count on him for that, if no one else.”
“Which is why you placed him beyond the Negaran front line?”
“I apologize for any grief that caused you or Mr. Hanne.”
“Don’t. You needed something done and found the right soldier for it. I would have done the same. My wife—may the goddess of the dead again protect her soul—once said I was as stubborn as an East Ranges saaryl in a drought.”
“In the lieutenant commander’s case, the seedling hasn’t crawled far from the tree.”
“My reputation doesn’t get my boy any extra leeway here, I take it?” The belowground room’s lifeless quiet amplified Gennet’s lack of reaction. Nüren’s lips parted to form a toothy smile. “Right! From what I’ve heard of you since you advanced from my command, I didn’t think so. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. It hasn’t crossed my mind once since Dharmen was transferred to this order.”
“But?” said Gennet.
“But I do have one little—well, big concern.”
“And it is?”
“As you said, you’ve seen his temperament.”
“Who hasn’t seen it? He overheats. Even at peace, he’s a boiling synth cauldron.”
“Exactly, and it worries me. Worries him too. He is what he is, but I don’t want it to get in his or the Guard’s way.” Nüren left his seat and went to the damaged but defiantly displayed suit of armor propped in a corner. “Dharmen is midlevel now. He’ll have far more boots under his command, and you and I both know the battlefield is no place for overemotion. The pressure on him will be fierce.”
“You think your son won’t be able to control his temper out there, General?”
“It’s not quite that. On the contrary, I hope you’ll help Dharmen see what an asset his particular talent can be if used wisely. And sparingly. I’m more worried about him getting hot at the wrong moment, than about him being . . . KIA.”
Not a lie, not exactly the truth either, Gennet understood. “Aye, General, remove that from your worry cart. I believe the lieutenant commander’s anger will bring results rather than cause problems. No one I know gets things done the way he does, especially when he’s pushed too far. I think you perceive that without ever having seen him here.”
Nüren nodded. “That, I do, Vieron.”
“You’re not really going to drink that, are you?” Dharmen said, watching the green, steeping liquid’s vapor swirl into infinity above Centrum Gardens’ outdoor café.
Brona took a tentative whiff. “It’s only kallam root tea. It won’t kill me. We have hard times ahead, and I need a soother.”
“Was it on the menu?”
“Course not.”
“That should tell you something. Father made me drink it once as a teenager. That crap’s worse than saaryl; it nearly turned my insides out!”
“Oh really? And just what did you do to bring on that kind of punishment?”
“It was for a fight I got into.”
“Is that so, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Hey, nobody calls me a girl among other things and gets away with it. The kid had it coming, and he got it, pure and simple.”
“Dharm, you and your tales. Let the woman be and mind your own . . . whatever that is,” Dori said from across the beverage- and confection-filled table. “You’ve seen the latest reports from Admiral Gennet on surveillance of Carmogen. We have to think defense prep. Who has time to dwell on other people’s drink choices?”
“We’ve been preparing plenty well for that ourselves,” Yos said with a squeeze to Brona’s shoulders. They sat close enough to nearly form one person.
“In what way have you two been preparing?” Theus snidely asked.
“Brona and I have discussed bits of our plans with Dharmen,” Yos returned.
Dharmen ignored Theus’s and Dori’s stares and remained silent, stuffing a small tart into his mouth and watching the vapor of his Yngvi Springs decaf briefly coalesce into a gelatinous ball before settling back into his cup.
“Look, we know they’ll come over here with the weapons they lifted from us,” said Brona, “and only the Heavenly Pantheon knows how many since the Carmogen have learned to duplicate what they stole.”
“Where exactly do you two fit into that?” Theus prodded. “What plans are you talking about that Dharm here has kept secret up to now?”
“Oh, we’ve thrown together a couple of things,” said Yos. “One is the personal antiparticler that he tested for us, which I’m glad was recovered. Our engineering team won’t have time to make it available for general use with the Carmogen moving so quickly, but the other item we can utilize right now.”
“Do continue!” said Dori.
Brona cleared her throat of the horribly bitter concoction that passed for tea and leaned across the small table. “Particle weapons emit radiation within a specific spectral range. This type of energy signature can be tracked. We’ve discovered how to distinguish and isolate particles in hostile fire only, and we’ve worked with our people in devising an energy emission detection system that can disable its source. Once the enemy fires any of our weapons, we can lock onto their signatures and send suppression commands to deactivate them permanently. They’d be rendered useless from then on; the Carmogen will have nothing more than elaborate toys in their hands.”
“All right, sounds well-conceived. But how will you keep the command signals from being discovered and jammed?” asked Theus.
“By using airborne microscopic soldiers small enough to escape detection, and positioned much closer to their targets,” replied Yos. “The Guard cannot perfect and construct enough nanites in time for combat, and the same goes for full-sized synths—you’ll still need human fighters for that. But we can at least use what’s available against the enemy’s equipment like we currently do for the Cloak.”
“They won’t win the fight for us,” said Brona, “but they’ll give our side the advantage it badly needs, even if only slight.”
“Gallin overheard some of this up at Kleve Park, remember?” Dharmen said. “I hope you’ve accounted for that.”
“We have, and we’ve refined and added some safeguards to our work since,” Yos said. “Regardless of anything he’s relayed to the other side, we’re ready. Trials are complete for the most part. We can deploy the micro-AI program once combat begins.”
Dharmen cocked his head. “For the most part? We can’t afford mistakes from undertested research, you two. No backfires—this’ll have to work for us, not for the Carmis. The last thing we need is your little micro minions disabling our weapons.”
“Lieutenant Commander Tate, do we look like the sort of scientists who skimp on research?” Yos joked. “Brona and I will have you know that all our backfires are top-notch and each one implemented to its finest half measure!”
Not even the slightest smile answered that.
“Trust us, Dharmen. It’ll work.” Brona grunted at her tea’s sinus (and brain cell) clearing fetor. “We have a few tweaks to make to particle targeting systems to prevent just what you’re afraid of. We’ve run dozens of simulations, and I can set up more trials to be sure, but Yos is right. The system’s ready.”
Dharmen nearly choked on his own reliquefied drink. “Simulations? It hasn’t been tested on actual weapons?” He stopped short—laughed, actually, in a depreciative chortle.
“Sorry to underwhelm you, Dharm,” said Yos.
“The Guard will want to run its own analysis before granting approval,” Dori said, “and our Science and Engineering Division spends months testing new and revisited technologies. You can count on Carmogen arrival before there’s any time for that.”
“Then we’ll need to step it up,” said Dharmen. “Beginning with Admiral Gennet so these two can be given some real guns to work with soon. Now, frankly.”
“Dharm, you know that’s not in our purview,” Dori said. “And do you really think the Guard would incorporate this technology so quickly, even if the admiral does throw his weight behind it?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Yos, “which is why we’re already working with Admiral Gennet. He’s the most uncompromising man I’ve ever met—Dharm here notwithstanding—but we’re fairly confident we have his support.”
The table went silent. Dharmen hid his own amazement. He was learning not to underestimate Yos and Brona’s determination when they got going on a project. “Admiral Gennet knows what’s at stake. If he thinks the system is viable, he’ll endorse its use.”
“Fine enough, but there’ll be tens of thousands more Carmis than us,” Theus said. “Never mind who has what weapons advantage. How will we go up against them? We don’t have the equipment or the manpower, human or AI. And even if we maintain superior firepower with this new particle isolation system, there just aren’t enough personnel or heavy gunships to support a major defensive.”
“Add to that the time it takes Parliament to decide on anything,” Dharmen said, “plus the logistics needed to get battalions and materiel into place when they finally do. Bemin is already put to it constructing new, bigger gunships, but regardless, the Kraal hasn’t even begun the slightest mobilization effort, no thanks to the Conservatives and even some HCers. If the enemy came right this minute, all we could do is spit at them.”
Dori sighed. “Bleak picture taken, you two.”
“Bleak but real, Commander,” said Theus. “Despite every advantage, Yos and Brona’s included, we won’t be prepared when the time comes.” He lowered his voice as heads turned from other tables. “If the Kraal even steps up.”
“This is our home, Thee. We’ll be prepared. We’ll have to be,” said Dharmen. “If you and Yos don’t want to see a Carmi slave market up close, Will and me tortured and killed for who we are, and Dori and Brona . . .” He shelved that horribly unpleasant thought immediately. “Each one of us better damned well be ready to fight when the time comes, period.”
Rem-E’s incoming message prompt filled his earplant. He activated an upright and scanned the information. Dori and Theus did likewise.
“What is it?” Yos asked.
“News from our admiral,” Dharmen replied. “Parliament is debating the Angolin Defense Act. I was wrong. Looks like we’re about to get prepared.”
“Are you that certain it’ll pass?” Brona asked.
“No, but Gennet is if he’s sending general comm on it.”
Brona grasped her teacup and took a huge swig. She coughed and swore in a way that amazed even Dharmen before returning the cup to the table.
“This was fast, remarkably fast!” said Dori. “Recon reports enemy chatter about ‘hidden aliens across the Abyss in need of remediation’ and more intel on forces massing all over Carmogen. They’ll be headed this way very soon. I’m guessing the act’s about to pass, and Admiral Gennet will confirm such. He’s called an AOM two hours from now.”
Theus snorted hard enough to blow the hair on Dharmen’s temples. Dharmen gave him a sharp shoulder pat to calm him. “Brona, whatever those final tweaks are, you two may want to get on them.”
“Say no more. We’re on it!” Brona took Yos by the hand and pulled him away from the table. He threw a hasty goodbye behind him as they left.
Dori watched them disappear into the Gardens. “Pains me to say it, but I think they’ll make a fine couple.”
I hope they get that chance, Dharmen thought. He looked to Brona’s half-full teacup and decided on a small, precombat bit of courage. He reached for it, sniffed it, and carefully took a sip . . .
The foulness filled his mouth and nostrils and made his eyes water. He spat the putrid green liquid down his front and slammed the cup on the table. The whole patio stopped in midconversation at his cursing as Dori tossed napkins at him.
Lothnë and Rior sat above the rim of Centrum Gardens’ rolling landscape when Yos and Brona reached the North End. Brona had wanted to get to work right away. Yos had insisted on a short stroll first, just the two of them. It turned out to be a long one. The day couldn’t have been more perfect for it: cloudless purple skies pierced by the silver-white towers lining the great urban park above second autumn’s enflamed foliage. Nearby, workers desynthing outdoor market stands clopped around in time-honored wooden shoes. The aromas of packed-away produce still lingered. Yos soaked it all in, determined to keep his mind at ease and off the coming threat. But at Brona’s behest, they talked about the coming threat.
“The tea didn’t help much, did it?”
“I’m not that upset, Yos, really.”
“We’ve known each other for years, Bron. You think I can’t tell?” He stopped their stroll, looked into her eyes. “And especially now?”
Brona sighed. “What do you really think will happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, Yos. Stop being so glacial all the time. Invasion is coming, within days from the sound of things, and we might not be able to stand up to it.”
“Ahh, but you and I have a plan,” Yos said radiantly. “The great and beautiful Brona Devries has joined forces with Yos the Magnificent to come to the Hidden Realm’s rescue.”
