The ethos effect, p.27
The Ethos Effect, page 27
“They are correct.” Sahid smiled, sadly. “We appreciate your willingness to transport our new systems to Behai. As you will discover, for some reason, the KMFS Aleysn was ... unsuccessful.”
Desoll nodded. “And you cannot afford any more delays? Or duplicate systems and missing ships?”
“No. For many reasons, which you also know. We also may require other services, to assure ourselves of its continued successful operation, with periodic updates.”
“I understand, Minister Sahid. You realize, of course, that such service on this short notice requires a great deal of readjustment in our schedules.”
“We understand that it will trigger the special services provision. Upon delivery confirmation, the special services bonus will be paid.”
“When will the equipment be ready?”
“It will take three days.”
Desoll nodded. “We will remain at orbit station for delivery. There is some other business that we can attend, and we will not charge for the waiting time.”
“You have always been most considerate in that fashion.” The minister extended a databloc. “The complementary bloc will be delivered with your cargo.”
“It will need to be packed most securely.”
“That is why it will take at least two days.” Sahid stood “I thank you, Director. Would that I could trust all as I do you. The Arm would be a better place.”
“We all do what we can.” Desoll stood, as did Van.
“Ah... but some do it so much better.” The minister flashed a smile. “I look forward to hearing of your success.”
Desoll and Van offered slight bows.
Neither spoke until they were walking along the river. Desoll thumbed his belt, and Van could sense the privacy field.
“Special services bonus?” Van asked.
“You know what lies in-Arm from Keshmara?”
Van called up his memory. “It’s all Revenant systems, most uninhabitable, but maybe a dozen being planoformed.”
“How likely is it that a Keshmaran transport courier would just vanish without a trace on a regular jumpshift to its own colony system?”
“The Revs took it out?”
“We’ll go on that assumption.”
“Why did they call on us? We’re not a private fleet.” Except, Van reflected, as he finished, the Elsin was the equivalent of a light cruiser, and with more speed and stronger shields.
“The Keshmarans don’t have that much of a space force, and they can’t afford to lose couriers, and they can’t be everywhere. There’s probably a Revcorvette out there with orders to blast down anything commercial. It’s a way of isolating a system. Since they agreed not to send any more troids—asteroid ships—and since they can’t send anything toward the Coalition, and since the Argentis are up-Arm, what does that leave?”
“Kush, Keshmara, and Jeavan, and a bunch of bootstrap systems, all out by themselves,” Van replied. “I hope this is worth it.”
“In credit terms for this transit alone, probably not. The special bonus is three hundred million Argenti creds, and the annual retainer is only one hundred fifty million.”
Van still had trouble with the figures. Only four hundred million, and not enough? Then, the Elsin was worth a billion creds, according to Desoll.
“Minister Sahid figures that if the Revs take on a Coalition ship, first, he doesn’t risk anything, and second, the Coalition might get more than a little upset. He can also claim that the Revs are breaking their nonaggression agreement, and this time, he has proof.”
“Will they be there and come after us?”
“Who knows?” The cold smile told Van that Desoll knew very well what was going to happen.
Van kept his frown to himself. “What are we going to do for the next several days?”
“As I told the minister, I do have some loose ends to tie up with the local IIS office here. I can start now, but it will take most of tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to be on board, just in case they deliver early or in case something comes up. If I get finished with everything tomorrow, then the day after I’ll sit the ship, and you can have that time to explore Keshmar. I’ll also open a credit line here on Cambrian Holdings for you, keyed to your payroll. If you want to transfer your personal account to another Eco-Tech banking institution when we get to Cambria, of course, you can, but that’s where your pay has been going for now.”
“When did I start getting paid?”
“The day the RSF retired you. I thought that was only fair. You’ve got two months pay. One month for a bonus.”
Van had to admit that Desoll had been very open about everything, if sometimes belatedly, from Farhkans to compensation—and the risks. He’d mentioned piracy from the start. Van just hadn’t expected that the Revs would be the pirates—or that IIS would be acting as a part-time interstellar mercenary or private fleet But from the compensation ... he should have.
Chapter 45
On fourday, Van arrived at the embassy of the Republic of Tara on the west side of the River Khorl at slightly before eleven hundred. He had no trouble entering the business section of the embassy, and immediately headed toward one of the Marine guards, hoping to head off a confrontation like the one that had occurred on Meroe.
“Yes, ser.” The ranker was polite, but not deferential.
“I’m Van Albert Commodore Van Albert.” Van fished out the retired officer’s datacard and presented it “I used to work with the second secretary, Cordelia Gregory. We were stationed on Scandya together. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell her I’m here.”
The guard took the card, verified it and handed it back.
Then he stepped away and touched the wall console. He waited some time before speaking. “Dr. Gregory. There’s a Commodore Albert here to see you. I checked his ID ... tall officer... Yes ... yes, ser. Right away.” He inclined his head to Van. “I’m to escort you up, ser.”
“I appreciate that, Corporal.” He followed the Marine through the screened gate to the side of the business lobby. As Van passed through the screens, he almost paused. His new implant picked up the codes and protocols, and he had the feeling that he could have actually twisted them enough to gain entry himself. What had the Farhkan doctor done? Or was that another Coalition ability that added to the mystique? But with such abilities, why were they avoiding any direct conflicts with the Revs? Desoll had said they were, but Van hadn’t been that satisfied with the answer. Because of a war over two hundred years before?
At the top of the ramp, the corporal turned left.
Cordelia Gregory was actually standing outside her door, waiting. “Thank you, Corporal.”
“My pleasure, Doctor.” The Marine slipped away.
“Commander... I mean, Commodore... to what do I owe...?”
Van could tell that, behind the formality, Cordelia Gregory was flustered, bewildered, and even slightly pleased. “I was here on Keshmara, and I had some free time. Since you’d been transferred here before I recovered, I thought I only ought to stop by.”
“I’m so glad you did. Please come into the office. It’s a little disarrayed.”
Van followed her in, closing the door and sitting down in front of the desk console.
After a moment, she seated herself. “I wrote you...”
“I know, and I very much appreciated the words and the thoughts.”
“How long ... you were severely injured.”
“Six months in the medcrib, and two months rehab.” Van gestured to the documents scattered on the flat surface beside the console. “You look ... quite involved ... What...?” He let his words trail off.
“Mostly economic analysis—until last week. Then we had to deal with the Sulyn problems. You’re from there, as I recall.”
“I heard that the RSF had sent in a domestic peacekeeping team. From what I’d heard, and from what I know, it seemed... excessive. Sulyn has always been an independent place, but one where the protests were always civil.”
“That’s been a real problem in explaining it to the Keshmaran government,” Gregory admitted. “We did send back a communiqué suggesting that reaction here was less than favorable.” She shook her head. “And then yesterday ... well... it’s already all over the mediacasts.”
Van waited, puzzled.
“The Keshmaran government announced this morning that they had discovered the identity of a Dartigan Dumas.”
“That name is familiar...” Van tried to recall why he knew the name.
“According to the Scandyans, he was the one who put together that front—”
“Oh... that Scandyan Biologics place?”
“Valborg Biologics,” Gregory corrected him. “But Dumas never existed. It was a Revenant front. They funneled the credits into a blind account here, and then to Scandya. The Keshmaran government is furious—not at us—but they expelled the Revenant ambassador and the first secretary, and demanded a formal apology and indemnification. The Scandyans are also demanding indemnification and an apology. That’s all the Scandyans can ask for. I wouldn’t be surprised if this almost destroys the Liberal Commons Party on Scandya....” She shook her head. “Anyway ... that’s what I’ve been up to...”
“How did this come to light? It’s been months...”
She shrugged, turning her hands up. “The Keshmarans aren’t saying, except that they have documentary records, and the incontrovertible evidence that it was orchestrated by the first secretary of the Revenant embassy here. It happened practically overnight.”
“Overnight?”
“The Keshmar First party is demanding the confiscation of all Revenant assets.”
“That seems...”
“That’s because they’re a religious party, offshoots of the original Mahmetists, the ones who didn’t become Revenants. They feel the Revenants lost the Word of God and are totally depraved.”
“Don’t all true believers feel that way about those who don’t embrace their view?”
“Most of them,” Gregory admitted. “Now ... what are you doing? And why are you here?”
Van ignored the abrupt change of subject, understanding that she had said all she wanted to. “I’ve landed a piloting position with an Eco-Tech outfit, and I’m effectively in training until my ship is ready.”
“An Eco-Tech multilateral?” Gregory’s eyebrows rose.
“I interviewed with all the Republic multis, and they all said I was either overqualified or too senior. I don’t know much beyond piloting, as you know. I was offered this job, and I took it.” Van smiled.
“Good for you!” Gregory actually sounded pleased for him. “How do you like it so far?”
“It’s very different. The outfit is a combination of high-end information and analysis, organizational consulting, high-priced delivery service, and specialized troubleshooting.” Van felt the description wasn’t shading the truth too much, at least as he saw IIS. “So far, I haven’t seen the troubleshooting part, and I’m learning about the others.”
“What sort of information analysis?”
“They have planetary offices on something like a hundred planets, and they collect all sorts of data, then analyze it for trends and seek out clients or serve existing clients. As a pilot, I’m supposed to be more in the line of delivering the results. They’re too complex for cost-effective standing wave transmission, not to mention too proprietary.”
“The clients are mostly multis?”
“They also have some governments, smaller systems, as clients.”
“They have an office here?” She shook her head. “They must, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“They do, and I met one of the clients yesterday. It’s proving a different kind of education.” That was certainly true enough.
She smiled. “Is it so hush-hush that you can’t tell me?”
“IIS—Integrated Information Systems.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of them. Very sophisticated and old operation. Very low profile. Privately held, so that there’s not much of a public record. Has a good reputation for serving its clients.”
“That’s the impression I’ve been getting, but I’ve only been on board for a few weeks.”
“You didn’t take much time for retirement.”
“I had plenty of time to think during rehab. Also, this was one of those opportunities that I had to take.” Not for the normal reasons, but Van didn’t have to explain why.
“No. I imagine there aren’t that many openings for experienced pilots.”
“There aren’t, but I hadn’t realized that until I started looking.”
“The multis all want two-tour military pilots who are good drivers and little more. You’re doubtless a good driver, but there’s more there.”
“I’d like to think so,” Van admitted.
“There is.” Cordelia Gregory smiled, then stiffened, listening to the netsystem.
Van made an effort with his own implant, seemingly slowly sifting through the protocols, recognizing a certain similarity, then being able to catch the last of the link he was not supposed to be able to receive—and would not have been able to receive even had he codes as the embassy’s current military attaché.
... soon as you can... ambassador was insistent about you briefing him on the economic implications of the Revenant mess... you know, what they’re likely to do. Could they pull out of the multis they’ve invested in here, and what would that do?...
Van tried to keep his face politely blank.
I have someone here... I’ll be there as soon as I can.
No more than five minutes.
I’ll be there, Dr. O’Hara.
Gregory offered a resigned expression to Van.
“Trouble?” Van asked.
“This Revenant thing. Now the ambassador wants an economic briefing.”
“Economics? You mean ... if the Revevants could pull out economically? I wouldn’t think they provide any financial aid, do they? Keshmara seems independent that way.”
“The Revenants have the third largest financial institution here—the Bank of Orum. If they closed it...”
“But that would hurt them as much as anyone.”
“You don’t think they’d take a loss to hurt someone else worse?” asked Gregory. “When it turns out that they apparently didn’t have any problems shooting you and a bunch of other innocents?” She rose. “I’m sorry, but the first secretary was very insistent.”
Van was glad she finally viewed him, if not totally accurately, as an innocent. He stood as well. “It does seem that the Revenants don’t care too much for those that don’t embrace their view of the Galaxy.” He smiled, ruefully and self-deprecatingly. “But then, I’ve always had to straggle with that problem.”
She returned the smile as she opened the door. “You and most civilized people realize they have that problem. We straggle with it. They don’t even recognize it.” With a last smile, she said, “It was wonderful to see you, but I must go. Will you be around long enough to have a lunch or something?”
Van shook his head. “We leave tomorrow, and I have to get back to the ship.”
“Do stop the next time you’re here.”
Van nodded. As he hurried down the ramp, with Cordelia Gregory watching, he wondered what had happened to make her so much more friendly. Or was it that he had not been so defensive? Or both? Or had she learned something about the Revs that he should know? Or did she feel sorry for him because of the Sulyn situation. That nagged at Van. He just hoped that reaction throughout the Arm would pressure the Taran government and the RSF to back off. All he could do was hope.
Chapter 46
Van returned to the Elsin on the late afternoon shuttle up from Keshmar.
Desoll met him just inside the lock. “I’m glad you’re back early. The minister must have pushed. They finished loading in the systems less than an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s been a while since I’ve brought on anyone, and I just forgot that we need to link you into the local IIS net. That way, you can check in periodically.”
That made perfect sense, but Van wouldn’t have thought of it, either.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m not tired.”
“You can take a nap for the out-system travel.”
Van had an idea that wasn’t exactly a suggestion. “I’ll try it.”
To his own surprise, he actually slept, to be awakened by a shipnet pulse. Commander Albert... Commander Desoll would appreciate you in the cockpit in a few minutes.
Eri?
Who else?
Van laughed to himself. I’ll be there. Because he was groggier than he’d realized, he took a quick shower.
Eri handed him a mug of café as he passed the galley door. “You can take a moment to have it. I asked.” Van took the cup gratefully, wondering why he’d been so tired. Was it that he was having a harder time than he’d realized readjusting to shipboard life? When he finished the café—more quickly than he would have liked, but he hadn’t wanted to keep Desoll waiting—he washed the cup and racked it, then hurried forward and into the second seat.
“We’re fifteen minutes out from the jump point,” Desoll said. “And you’re about to get another lesson in IIS ships.”
“Which lesson is this?” Van bantered back.
“The drive lesson. Our drives are tuned to Coalition military standard. That’s no patriotism, but efficiency. But we’ll sacrifice a percent or two for camouflage. We can retune automatically to any standard in the Arm. The farther we go from our baseline, of course, the greater the power loss, but the retuning is fairly quick. It takes only about three minutes. Coming into Behai, we’ll tune to Coalition commercial.”
“I assume that’s because—commercial standard—is the same as the Keshmaran standards. And the lower baseline tuning is easier on the accumulators and drives?”
“Right. Keshmaran ships tune to Coalition commercial. Even their military does. If anyone’s watching, they’ll think we’re Keshmaran, because the Coalition doesn’t send commercial traffic here, and we won’t match a military profile.”
