When he checked the results, he smiled—for a moment From what he could tell, all he had to do was replicate the twined signal, and there would be no alert signal to the main security system for the building.

  All? It took almost an hour before he had duplicated the signal on one of the “spare” datacards. He gave the commands to the office system to block off the signal from the portal and to substitute the one from the datacard. Then he held his breath—figuratively, monitoring everything. There was only the faintest flicker in the status signals, but no alarms went off.

  He turned his attention to the portal.

  The stunners flared a dozen times in the next fifteen minutes, before Van and the analyzer finally broke the codes. The portal had sent out alarm after alarm—but they’d gone nowhere, thanks to Van’s makeshift block.

  He stepped through the portal, checking the inner office beyond. Despite the coolness in the office. Van was sweating heavily under the uniform. So far as he could tell, there were no more alarms, but he still had to figure out how to get into the intelligence system.

  He and Eri had already figured out the likely structure of entry protocols and set up the analyzer to run through Van’s implant. Before Van tackled that problem, he wanted to check Vickry’s spaces and drawers for clues and for anything that might make the job easier.

  He didn’t find much of anything. The drawers in the left side of the antique desk held only personal items, and few of those—a marble stylus holder engraved to Commander Jon D. Vickry, several packages of mints, a small framed holo image of a young woman, several styli of various shapes, a laser pointer, two blank infocards, and a third infocard with the label schedule on it.

  Van shrugged and looked around the office.

  Then he took another deep breath, using his implant to unfreeze the point terminal in the inner office but leaving the connection beyond closed. Slowly, he let the analyzer probe the point terminal.

  Protocols retrieved.

  Van offered a tight smile. The RSF had been careful to keep the reports on the Scandyan “incident” out of the main databases, which meant that, if such reports existed, they had to be in the secure files. But those files had to be open to Vickry.

  After entering the secure system, using Vickry’s access, Van immediately ordered a search, entering his own name. Three files flashed up, holo-displayed before him. He didn’t try to read them, but transferred copies through the implant to one of the datacards with him. Then he searched for the Collyns and the Fergus. There were dozens of files, but Van only transferred those dated from three months before he’d been commanded to take the Fergus to Scandya.

  Then he left the system Either the files had what he wanted, or they didn’t, and if what he wanted was in a deeper or more secure system, he was out of luck, because he’d run to the limits of his implant and analyzer capabilities—and he was getting worried about time.

  He slipped back through the portal, restoring it to normal function after he did.

  Then he froze against the wall as the door of the outer office began to open. Quickly, he triggered the nanite bodyshield to full protection.

  “Lights are out...” hissed a voice.

  “Heat sensors said...” returned another voice.

  Heat sensors? Van hadn’t found them.

  “Probably just some officer working in the back.”

  Van decided to bluff it out—or try to—even as he moved closer to the Marine who entered the office.

  “You’re right,” he called out loudly. “I was just leaving. I’d turned out the lights and was headed out.”

  The first Marine turned and looked at Van, taking in the uniform.

  “I had a project for the sub-marshal.”

  The second Marine stopped in the doorway, shaking his head. “Wish someone would tell us sometime.”

  “I logged in with security,” Van replied.

  “That’s not your problem, ser.” The second Marine looked at the first. “You log it in. I’m headed back to give Gorel a word.”

  He vanished, but the door remained ajar—only for a moment before a second figure appeared, closing the door behind him.

  Sub-marshal Vickry stood there, smiling. “What sort of project, Commodore?”

  “Research,” Van replied, smiling easily, and gesturing toward the sealed portal into Vickry’s private office.

  “Now!” snapped the sub-marshal.

  Van was already moving. Despite the nanite bodyshield, the impact of the slug fired by the Marine spun him around, and his entire body felt as though he’d been struck from shoulder to knee. Rather than fight the impact, Van let it carry him around in a full circle that he forced right up to the young Marine.

  The Marine’s eyes widened, and he hesitated for just a moment.

  That moment was just enough for Van, and base of his palm connected with the other’s jaw. There was a dull snap, and the man dropped.

  Vickry had reached for a stunner, but Van was faster, and snapped it out of the older man’s hands, following up with a stiff jab to the vee of Vickry’s ribs. Vickry staggered back, gasping, and Van scooped up the stunner, triggering it at the sub-marshal’s legs.

  Vickry went down.

  Van could sense the alert pulse from Vickry’s implant, but since Van had disabled the receivers in the office, along with most systems, the signal went nowhere.

  Vickry grimaced as he levered himself against the wall, his lower body numb and inert.

  “I hadn’t expected you this late.” Van smiled, wondering what he could get out of Vickry. “You have rather elaborate security here.”

  “How long have you been a Coalition agent?” Vickry asked mildly, although behind his expression of mild curiosity Van could sense both worry and agitation.

  “I’m not, and I never have been,” Van replied. “How long did you and Marshal Connolly and Marshal Eamon have to work to set up your assassination plot and coup?”

  “Coup?” Vickry forced a laugh. “I don’t see any troopers on the streets, and there will be elections before long.”

  “It’s amazing how closely events here resembled what happened on Scandya,” Van added conversationally.

  “How did you do it?” snapped Vickry.

  “Do what?” replied Van.

  “You’ve blocked off the office. It might buy you some time, but before long, someone will check on it. The building systems will report it as an exception, and they’ll send in a Marine team and there won’t be enough of you left to fill a datacard.”

  “You already tried that,” Van pointed out.

  “Sergeant Telford will be back shortly, with more men.”

  “Maybe,” Van conceded. “Why did the RSF have to take over the Republic?” He raised the stunner again.

  Vickry looked up. “You’re so smart, black man. You figure it out. If you have the brains and time.”

  Van thumbed the stunner up to lethal and pressed the trigger.

  Vickry didn’t even look surprised.

  Van shook his head, looking down not at Vickry, but at the young soldier’s body. Van had been the intruder, and he hadn’t wanted to kill the man, not until the Marine had tried to kill him.

  He had to hurry. Quickly, he pulled out the green couch, away from the wall, then straightened. His entire body had begun to throb. Ignoring the pain, he slowly dragged Vickry’s body behind the couch, then that of the dead Marine before straightening the furniture. While the couch wouldn’t conceal the bodies from a thorough search, it would hide them from a cursory look into the office.

  Then Van picked up the datacase, walked out, locking the door, and turning off the body-shield, because it would register on the security systems. He made his way along the deserted corridors—except that two doors in the public affairs office were still open, and a major and a captain were calling up holo images and working on something. Neither looked up as Van passed.

  He wanted to look around, to see if anyone happened to be following him, but knew that looking worried would alert anyone monitoring the system. So he continued to walk down the ramps, past security—which cleared him—then outside. He kept feeling as though someone would put a laser through his back, although not even his name was in the building security system.

  The sky had clouded up in the hours that Van had been in the RSF headquarters building, and a mistlike rain had begun to fall.

  He nodded to the guards. “I hope it doesn’t rain any harder.”

  “You and us, ser.”

  Van smiled and kept walking.

  At the end of the open plaza, he hailed a groundcar. Thankfully, this time the first one stopped.

  “Orbit station shuttle terminal.”

  “OST, it is, ser.”

  Van couldn’t sense any communications to or from the driver, and he added a solid tip to the fare when the woman dropped him off. By then, the rain had intensified, and Van was glad of the weather screens as he walked into the terminal.

  There he made his way into the public fresher, and in one of the stalls, after using the implant to blank the sensor, changed tunics. The severe black changed not only his overall appearance, strikingly, but even his mien. Van hoped it would be enough. He slipped the datacase into a corner with his tunic and uniform cap inside. While he would have preferred to keep the uniform tunic, he didn’t want to risk having it scanned when he departed Tara—if he could depart.

  After leaving the fresher, rather than seek a seat on the shuttle in person, Van eased his way to a pubcomm unit, and reserved his place—as S. V. Moorty. He had slightly less than three hours to kill.

  Empty-handed, he walked toward the small restaurant on the left side of the terminal, where he managed a seat that looked out onto the open concourse. While the time passed, slowly, he occasionally scanned the open space outside the restaurant, watching to see if any security or military forces appeared.

  As he ate slowly, he could discern neither, and finally he slipped from the small circular table and made his way to the departure consoles.

  “Ser Moorty, how was your stay on Tara?” asked the console officer.

  “Most productive, it was,” Van returned.

  “You have no luggage? No cases?”

  “I brought business materials. They remained.” Van shrugged. “It makes the return shuttle flight much lighter.”

  The woman waved Van through. He kept thinking that someone would try to stop him from boarding the up-shuttle, but no one did. The hardest part was walking without betraying the soreness and growing stiffness he felt. And the growing concerns he was getting for his family.

  Chapter 66

  Eri was standing just inside the lock to the Joyau when Van closed it behind him.

  “I’m sore, very sore,” he replied. “We need to delock as quickly as we can.” He moved toward the cockpit “Is someone chasing you?” Eri followed him into the cockpit.

  “They could be shortly, and I’d rather not wait and see,” Van replied as he settled into the command couch, awkwardly fastening his harness before he began to run through the checklist. He triggered the comm before he finished. Tara orbit control two, Hyndji commercial ship Daiphur, requesting delocking and departure corridor.

  Daiphur, stand by.

  Control two, Daiphur standing by this time. Van turned to Eri. “We’re going to nil gee.”

  She had already slipped into the other couch and quickly finished strapping in.

  Van brought the fusactors on line, ready to wrench the Daiphur/Joyau out of the lock dampers if necessary.

  More than a minute passed, an interval that felt far too long. Van could feel the sweat running down his back, and the air in the cockpit smelled metallic.

  Daiphur, sorry. Cleared to delock from charlie jive this time. Dampers released Maintain low-power departure until clear of the amber. Suggest corridor two.

  Control, Daiphur, will do. Delocking this time. Van eased the Joyau away from orbit control two, watching the station and the ships in orbit or nearing or departing planetary orbit. He brought up ship gravity to one gee.

  He still needed to route funds and messages to his family. From what he’d seen, Sulyn wasn’t going to be safe for them much longer, if it even was now. He looked across at Eri. “Would you set up a comm link to the IIS office in New Oisin, secure?”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Van checked the systemwide EDI screen. There were only four RSF ships in the entire system. One of the heavy cruisers was off Burke, the largest satellite of Synge, the gas-giant seventh planet. The other was at the other side of the system. Each of the other corvettes was a quarter of the system from the cruisers, so that each ship covered one quadrant—but there were only four ships—the fewest Van had ever seen.

  Departure corridor two ran almost directly toward the cruiser off Burke.

  For the moment, Van continued piloting the Joyau toward corridor two.

  “I have a secure link, ser. But it’s secure only to the office. Beyond that... when they retransmit...”

  “I understand.” Van pulsed in the codes to send the message to his fathers, then added his own personal billing information.

  I’m sorry this will be quick, he messaged, but I’ve little time. You may recall my last messages. I would urge you, as well as Arturo and Sappho, to follow through on Sappho’s earlier inclination. Material which could expedite that will also be following, through VCA ... VCA was the account Van had set up years earlier in order to transfer funds home for investment. Now, the funds transfers would be for a different form of investment, Van hoped. I’m not likely to be easily reached for a time, but consider my recommendation as one that failure to follow could result in a final curtain call for the opera company and its director and his associates.

  Van was being oblique, to say the least. He doubted that one message among thousands would be pulled out, but there was always the chance that someone in the IIS office might break in and relay the contents—if they thought they were unduly suspicious. In any case, it was the best he could do on short notice, and it wasn’t as though he hadn’t recommended that his family leave Sulyn before.

  He followed the message with the instructions for the funds transfers from his personal accounts. Those would work, because they went through Cambrian Holdings, and the RSF wasn’t about to interfere with a major Coalition financial institution. Not yet, anyway.

  Those items completed, Van concentrated on the EDI screen once more, where the RSF cruiser remained on station—not that the scale of the screen would have showed movement, although the relative overlay would have.

  Van almost nodded to himself. While the cruiser was not moving toward the departure corridor he’d been assigned, he didn’t like the idea of departing the system in a way that would bring him closer to a ship with that much power. For the time being, he left the Joyau on course until the ship was clear of the amber protective area off Tara. Then he began to incline the departure course of the Joyau “down” from the system ecliptic, but gradually. He didn’t want to alert the RSF—not yet.

  Then Van unstrapped and walked back to his stateroom, closing the door behind him but still remaining linked to the ship system.

  He stripped off the thin black tunic and undershirt, studying his frame in the mirror.

  At first glance, his entire torso looked bruised, but a closer scrutiny revealed that only about a third was purplish. That third was enough to make every movement tentative, and probably would come to hurt more before it hurt less. The nanite bodyshield had kept him from getting killed, but it had exacted a price. He changed into a shipsuit, trying not to wince at every movement Next, he fed the datacard with the tiles he had copied from Vickry’s office into the reader in his stateroom, creating an isolated directory on the system for it He hurried back to the cockpit He could read through those files from the command couch, but he didn’t want to leave the cockpit for that long, not in the Tara system.

  From the galley, Eri looked out as he left his stateroom. “You will need something to eat.”

  “Thank you.” Van settled back into the command couch and, using his implant and access through the shipnet, began to search through the files he’d lifted.

  The first two were routine.

  The third was not.

  ... the commanding officer of the RSFS Collyns was informed that a hostile cruiser disguised as the RSFS Fergus would be entering the Scandyan system and that the purpose of that entry would be to break the capital space vessel limitation agreement with the Scandyans, thus forcing the RSF into a position where it would be forced either to withdraw from the Scandyan system or to engage in armed conflict with the Scandyan system. Since such conflict was clearly not in the interests of the RSF, the Collyns was tasked with destroying the imposter vessel... including using drive detuning for an element of surprise...

  Later information, after the destruction of the Collyns by the real Fergus, a deplorable occurrence, revealed that intelligence dispatches to RSF headquarters had been falsified by sources believed to have been either Keltyric or Argenti. The marshal determined that revealing this information would have been highly detrimental to Republic security, and the official position remains that the Collyns is presumed lost on secret maneuvers ... With the drowning death of the RSF military attaché to Scandya, further disclosures are unlikely, although it was considered prudent to remove certain qualifications of the attaché from records open to public scrutiny...

  Van took a long slow breath. He’d been attacked by the RSF and destroyed officers and techs he’d known. And, despite the denials in the file, it was clear enough to Van that Vickry and Marshal Connolly had actually set up the Fergus—the real Fergus—to be destroyed by the Collyns. Worse, there was a clear implication that Cruachan had been murdered because he’d known too much. But why? There had to be more.

  He continued to read.

  ... Taran public had consistently failed to realize the danger posed by greater Revenant or Argenti influence in the Scandyan system ... and the lack of newer and more advanced vessels ... Council recommends that the RSF high command proceed in developing a plan that will make the electorate more fully aware of the critical situation developing... to prepare public opinion for alliances of necessity, and to develop a contingency plan for more direct action, should it prove necessary ... contingency should also include operations to reduce areas of dissent within the Republic. Public opinion will support such an option [see Report XX-1 A]...

 

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