Frontiers of the imperiu.., p.15
Frontiers of the Imperium, page 15
“Understood, ma’am,” said Valentine, unwillingly. Golna understood too; he would have also preferred to depart with Wabara.
“So, that is agreed. I would like to acquaint you with everything I know, but you are all certainly familiar with everything known to me. From here to the Tsiolkovsky System is a flight of eleven days. You, Captain, will travel eight days to Lundin, is that right? Keep in contact. I will inform you if I learn anything new. You will be our sole contact with Greene, if it is necessary.”
“Certainly, Madam.”
“Enjoy Lundin. If it turns out to be a false alarm, we can meet up in Taylor, or Paskin. So, let’s get to work, people.”
10
Albert Ferro sat in his cabin, and lightly drummed his fingers on the golden mask lying before him on a small table.
“The Sovereign has forwarded a report from our agents on Arion,” he said to the two people looking at him. Halmira Svorban was seated on his left, her face flawlessly made-up as always. The second person was present, not physically but via a hologram transmission, and looked as if he was seated on Ferro’s right. This was Commodore Nehring, who commanded the detachment of light cruisers that Wissien had attached to Ferro for his mission to Robinson and then Lundin.
“Task Group 35 has split up and gone in separate directions. A few cruisers are flying to scout the Robinson base and surroundings. This is Wissien’s responsibility. What is important for us is that the Hermes and a few other ships are continuing on to Lundin, and all the evidence suggests that they will arrive as planned in eight days’ time.”
He smiled. He hated waiting. For someone who had spent the last three years on a starship in interstellar space, this was perhaps surprising, but it was the case. He could not wait to invade the territory of the Central Imperium. He wanted to taste blood, and power. Therefore he was doing everything to encourage Wissien to make him his main troubleshooter.
“That is good news, my lord,” said Nehring. He also did not like waiting. His four vessels had been waiting on the edge of Lundin for several days now, where they could not even train which, for someone as obsessed with training as Nehring, could only be an irritation.
Ferro smiled. Nobody is perfect.
“Our people on Lundin are also prepared,” said Svorban. “We can launch the attack at any time.”
“I still think that it would be simplest to get Hankerson onto the surface and then just throw an asteroid at the city,” said Nehring. “Maybe it would be overkill, a bit, but that’s never bothered us before.”
“But that would attract a great deal of attention.”
“My lord, with the greatest of respect, everything we do attracts attention.”
Ferro gave a faint smile. He wondered if Nehring would dare to oppose him in this way if they were on the same ship. Ferro knew that his subordinates were terrified of him and thought he was a psychopath. He didn’t mind; he knew there was a grain of truth there. Nevertheless, Nehring argued that Ferro often used his flagship Endurance for ground operations, so it was logical that a commodore in charge of a detachment would command a space battle from the deck of another ship. Therefore Nehring had long ago moved to the Thunderer, so that with the Daring and the Venom they would cover the Endurance during everyday operations after she landed.
This was similar to what Ferro wanted to do on Lundin too, but the commodore was probably still against it.
“We have already talked about that, Commodore. Hankerson is still just small fry. He is not as important as our other targets and it would be better if our attack does not invite too much attention. As well as the orbital attack, we would have to fly past the Hermes and other ships, and this would create problems. Not to mention the city’s ground defenses. No, the Endurance will lead the ground attack, and the Thunderer, the Venom and the Daring will occupy the Imperial ships in orbit. Hankerson will be on the planet’s surface and I personally will crush his skull, if necessary.”
His smile reminded the commodore that flying on another ship was a really good idea.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Prepare the plan of attack on the Hermes and her escorts, Commodore. I leave it in your hands and I will send you all the information we have received. But we will execute the plan as I say.”
“Understood, my lord.”
“You may go.”
The holographic image disappeared and Ferro felt Svorban’s eyes burning into him.
“What is it?”
“What you want is to kill Hankerson yourself, isn’t it?”
“I have always wanted to show an Enhans that they have nothing on us, the Chosen. I will squeeze his brain from the inside by will alone!”
Svorban simpered. “If I don’t get there first.”
The Hermes had already decelerated to enter Lundin’s orbit when Alexander Golna arrived on the bridge.
He replaced Commander Linderholm, who had had the watch, sat down in the command chair and called up the latest information on the planet sent to him by Calvert and his Intelligence Section.
Not that there was any really new information. They had learned practically everything about Lundin before leaving Hub Central and had received the most recent information in an intelligence summary from Admiral Greene on the Madras station. But Calvert and his team had ferreted out some new tidbits during the three hours the Hermes had been in the system.
As predicted, orbital traffic was minimal. There was no unrest on the surface. The Intelligence Section had been working on message recordings from the planetary network for the last few hours. Recently, several ministers in the planetary government had resigned and there were disputes regarding taxes on some exported goods. None of this was news.
The report contained a detailed analysis of the outgoing ministers and their replacements, and Golna had to laugh when he recognized the fingerprints of one Lieutenant Hankerson. The boy liked to analyze absolutely everything. And usually he was bang on.
Hankerson also summed up the situation on Lundin as relatively stable, even though there were potentially long-term competition problems. Xerxes Combine had a monopoly on the local mining sites – including in the asteroid belt – and the export of exotic local flora and fauna, including the renowned Lundin mosses that were used to make any number of cosmetic products and provide legal highs. As a result, Lundin’s economy was booming, but the giant corporation was a threat to the existence of many small independent companies, so voices calling for change were being raised against this. However, Xerxes had assisted with the colonization of Lundin seventy years previously, and under the Foundation Charter, it had a monopoly for a century. But this was not good enough for some locals, and...
“Captain. Signal from the surface, from the Government Terrace, for you.”
Golna turned his attention to this. The Government Terrace was the Lundin shorthand for the government office, probably so called because most of the population lived on the mountain tops in giant terrace cities.
“Connect me here,” he ordered the communications officer, and shortly the face of a blond man with broad shoulders appeared on the screen by his chair. Golna did not recognize the man from any photos.
“Good afternoon...” the man began. “I am sorry. I was expecting a connection with Commodore Wabara. She commands Task Group 35, doesn’t she?”
“Yes. But she had to take a detachment of ships to resolve a situation elsewhere in Konstantin. I am Captain Alexander Golna, commanding officer of the Hermes and of detachment 35.1.”
“Oh yes! I have heard about you and your amazing ship. We are looking forward to meeting you and perhaps some of our citizens could have an onboard tour?”
That would be Bossev’s worst nightmare.
“That can certainly be arranged. In the absence of Commodore Wabara, I am currently the commanding officer of this detachment, so whatever you wished to discuss with her, you can also discuss with me.” He narrowed his eyes. “And I confess that my feelings are similar to yours. I was expecting a connection with Prime Minister Gulbis.”
“Yes, forgive me for not introducing myself. Unfortunately, Prime Minister Gulbis is indisposed. I am Deputy Prime Minister Uvis Freivalds, trade minister and currently acting prime minister.”
“I see. What happened to the prime minister?”
“Nothing serious. She got black moss poisoning during a family excursion in the jungle. This happens frequently here, but I thought that an experienced hiker like her would be careful. It isn’t life-threatening, but she will need a few weeks to recover.”
“I see. Please tell her that I wish her a speedy recovery on behalf of the entire Imperial Navy.”
“With pleasure. She was very much looking forward to your visit and I look forward to welcoming you in my – well, her – office. I would also like to invite the members of your crew to the Feast of Ferns, a holiday that will be celebrated the day after tomorrow.”
Golna quickly recalled the appropriate information. This was a holiday originating with the earliest colonists, after an accident had contaminated their food, and the locals found a fern consisting of almost pure protein. Thanks to this fern the colony had survived until the next ship arrived.
“We will be honored. We tried to arrive as soon as possible, so we wouldn’t miss it,” he lied.
“I am pleased to hear that. And I am particularly pleased to hear that you have a member of the Imperial family aboard.”
“You mean Lieutenant Daniel Hankerson? Yes, he is a member of my crew.”
“We will be delighted to welcome him. Would it be possible for him to lead your delegation to the Feast of Ferns in person? I know that the local people would take this as a clear symbol that they matter to the Emperor.”
“What do you think about this, XO?”
Commander Aleko Bossev sat on the couch in the captain’s cabin, nursing a cup of tea in his hands. It was the moss tea they had been given on the surface. It seemed that they made everything from moss on Lundin.
“About what, sir?” he asked the captain, as Golna took a sip.
“About everything.”
An hour ago they had returned from the planet’s surface and the first courtesy visit to Deputy Prime Minister Freivalds.
“Well, they’re nice, political machinations are everywhere, hatred of corporations is also everywhere, and they want young Hankerson to lead our delegation to the Feast of Ferns... well, why not? The boy can handle it, and it is clear to all of us that Freivalds is right. It will be greatly symbolic.”
Golna nodded. “I am fascinated rather by the desire that he should lead the delegation. He repeated this several times. But yes, it’s a good symbol.”
“But if he is to lead it, he will have to be the most senior officer there, and he’s only a lieutenant. And he was only promoted from junior lieutenant a few months ago.”
“I know, but he’s been moving in diplomatic circles all his life, and this is just a festivity. And I didn’t want to go to a reception anyway, so I’ll let him take care of it.”
“I’m not in a hurry to go either, sir.”
“However, I understand that some things are more suitable for a more senior officer, because of potential backstage negotiations and the like. Hmm...” Golna scratched his head. “Dmitrii Valentin was saying that he’s interested in Lundin. He can lead the delegation from the Astana and Hankerson the delegation from the Hermes. Problem solved.”
“And the El Guettar?”
“They have another program. Colonel Sarkar wants to take some of his people for exercises in the local jungles the day after, and Captain Tyson intends to observe so we don’t have to worry about including them at all. Even so, our delegation will be rather large. And for a change I don’t have to go anywhere!”
He looked at the third man sitting beside Bossev on the couch. “What do you think, Graham?”
Lieutenant Commander Graham Calvert shrugged. “I agree. If you like I will inform young Hankerson of his highly important task.”
“Please do. Have you discovered anything else about the planet?”
Calvert had gone with them and had spent two hours wandering around the capital city when Golna and Bossev had been visiting the Deputy Prime Minister.
“Nothing in particular. No great unease among the population. There are political machinations on a daily basis. I found a few samples of those mosses and gave them to Dr. Olgarmi, including the one that allegedly poisoned the prime minister.”
“Allegedly? Do you not believe anything?”
Calvert chuckled. “Of course not. That’s my job. Just as Hankerson’s job is to look imperial and dignified.” He chuckled again, and tapped the formal invitation card that lay on the table.
“By the way, did you know that local protocol requires him to take a plus one?”
This is a stupid idea.
Daniel Hankerson had repeated this simple truth to himself a thousand times since the captain had told him he would attend a gala reception in two days’ time. He knew about the Feast of Ferns, and he also knew the intelligence that local rules required everybody to take an escort.
This is a stupid idea.
He was standing at the door of an enlisted cabin on deck six. He rang the bell.
He had briefly considered inviting Trish Gabor, but she was already invited and had chosen Ray Keto as her escort.
In addition, he would have been deluding himself. Daniel did not make a habit of self-deception. He well knew who he wanted to invite and had never seriously contemplated inviting anyone else.
The cabin door opened and a relatively thickset woman with the epaulettes of a petty officer second class peered out. Goggle-eyed, she blinked at Daniel before snapping to attention.
“How can I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for Hila Eban. Is she here?”
“Yeah, certainly, sir.” The petty officer turned towards the interior. “Hila? Can the lieutenant come in?”
“Of course. Come in!” said a voice from the inside. Daniel realized that Eban had not even asked which lieutenant.
As Daniel passed the petty officer, she made way for him, then went out. “I think... I will go to the mess for something and leave you both... here.” She departed and Daniel could only imagine the face she was pulling. But he was already standing in the cabin.
Enlisted cabins were not very large, despite the relative size of the Hermes; the communications station took up most of the volume and there was not much space left over. There were six bunk beds in the cabin, and a small table in the middle of the room. Hila Eban was not sitting at the table, but had a chair by a lower bunk that she was using as a table while sitting on her bed. For a short while she continued to type and did not even raise her head. Daniel briefly wondered if she was just pretending to write something, just to keep him dangling. There was nothing to stop her. It didn’t actually matter.
He smiled, and cleared his throat a little theatrically.
Finally, Hila raised her head. “I thought it was you.” She deployed her famous cautious smile. “What brings you to our beautiful barracks?”
The curtain of one of the upper bunks was closed and snoring could be heard from inside. Hila waved her hand.
“Pay no attention. Petty Officer Theron is on night shift. Her snoring is almost a channel for my work now. But at least I’ve been able to grill her for my notes on the Hermes’ journey.” She indicated her computer. “Would you believe that her father is a lumberjack from Oregon, on Earth? Seriously. Even today there are simple guys who go into the woods with a chainsaw and an ax. I had no idea that that still existed.”
Another smile. She got up from the bunk and took a step closer.
“But you didn’t come to talk about my reporting. At least, that’s what I’m guessing. So how can I help you?”
“Well... I wanted to invite you to the Feast of Ferns. A local celebration that takes place on Lundin in two days’ time.”
“Invite me?”
“Yes... they want me to represent the Imperial family there, and I need to bring a plus-one. I would like to take you.”
The snoring from behind the curtain intensified.
“So, are you inviting me as some sort of decorative trophy to hang on your arm while you play the successful Enner?”
“Feel free to take it like that, if it makes you feel better. Will you come?”
“I don’t know. I have nothing to wear.”
“Kelvin is a good dressmaker. He’ll make something for you.”
“Oh, I forgot how clever your robot slave is.”
Daniel laughed. “Ms. Eban, how many more digs are you going to make at me before you decide?”
“Not many. Well, okay then, I won’t make you suffer. I’ll come. But if we’re going together, I have one condition. Well, two, actually.”
“Yes?”
“Firstly, no more ‘Ms. Eban’. I’m Hila. Hi.”
“Fine. Hila, I’m Daniel. Practically nobody calls me Dan, but I think I’d survive it.”
“Sure.” She held out her hand. This seemed almost surreal to Daniel. People usually shake hands for the first time before agreeing to a date.
If this could be considered a date.
“And the second condition?”
“Wear the Navy’s mess dress uniform. I’ve always thought that it gives every man wearing it at least ten extra charisma points. So I’m curious as to what it will do to you.”
The Imperial Navy’s mess dress uniform might look sexy, but it certainly was not comfortable, and Daniel once again wondered if, maybe, he could just leave it at home. Unfortunately this would also have meant leaving Hila at home, and he did not want that.
So now, when getting out of the luxury limousine that had collected them at the cosmoport, he felt as if his throat would pop. Unlike ordinary service uniforms, the Navy’s mess dress uniforms were black; like the working uniforms they had pale blue bordering – a woman would probably call it “turquoise” – with epaulettes and classic gold rank insignia on the sleeves. Rank was indicated only on the collar of traditional uniforms, but this uniform did not escape even that, because the hard, starched collar was hell and was the main reason for the uniform’s unpopularity. Protocol designated it the equivalent of a tailcoat, meaning it was actually slightly more formal than this celebration required. However, it was not inappropriate and Daniel had promised it, so he squeezed himself into his dress uniform.
