Warren C Norwood - [Double Spiral War 03] Read online

  “Yes, sir.” As Rasha’kean turned and left his office, her smile settled into a subdued grin. Life had not offered her much humor in the past ten years, so she took it whenever it came her way. That Schopper had seen through her smile made the idea of working with him far more interesting than it otherwise might have been. That he had done it so quickly offered a challenge that took some of the edge off her disappointment.

  She threaded her way through the crowded hall with a look of determination replacing her grin. Rasha’kean had come to Nordeen with a single purpose in mind, and General Schopper had diverted her from it-at least temporarily. Furthermore, he had told her that she would have to use more than her natural beauty and a quick smile to make sure he kept his end of the bargain.

  Rasha’kean was glad. Sometimes she felt sure that the only reason she had risen so quickly through the ranks was because it was so easy to manipulate those male superiors who reacted positively to her good looks. Sometimes she hated them for making her feel that way and wished she were plain and unattractive. But if she had been unattractive, she might never have wangled this trip to Nordeen out of old General Milligan and thus never have had the chance to present her request to Schopper. If she had been unattractive, she might-

  Her thought was broken as someone bumped her against the wall, and she found herself staring directly into the face of an old Chief Warrant Officer who steadied her with a firm grip on her elbow.

  “Excuse me, Colonel,” he said, releasing her arm with a slight wince. “I’m afraid I wasn’t looking where I was going.” “The fault’s mine, Chief. I wa’not payin’ much attention, either. Did I hurt you?”

  “No, not at all. Shoulder’s just a little sore.” He was immediately struck by the clarity of her voice and the striking beauty of her pikean features, a beauty that was accented by blond hair worn in a much longer style than was commonly seen around Sondak’s Supreme Headquarters.

  She looked at his name tag and then at his insignia and immediately guessed who he was. “You’re the Teller who wrote all those great stories about Sutton in the Flag Report, ar’not you?

  “All compliments accepted,” he said with a quick, waving salute. Chief Henley Stanmorton at your service. And am I safe in assuming, Colonel Ingrivia, that you are related in some way to the late Admiral Ingrivia?”

  “Her daughter, Chief. But how did you know ...”

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. So this was Ingrivia’s daughter. The flood of memories that brought to him was not one he wanted to wade through now, so he dammed it up as efficiently as he could. “I didn’t mean to refresh your grief, but the Ingrivia name is rather famous around here. Would I be prying into military secrets to ask what the colonel is doing here on Nordeen?”

  Rasha’kean smiled. “Are you always so formal with your questions?

  Henley returned her smile. “No, ma’am. If I ask it again less formally, will you answer it?”

  “Only if you’ll show me how to get out of this maze--if you have time, that is.”

  ‘’I’d be delighted, Colonel. I was just leaving myself. Where would you like to go?”

  “First I need somethin’ to eat. Then you can point me t wards the Regular Officers Barracks.”

  “Easy enough,” Henley said. Her accent tickled more memories loose in the back of his mind, but he kept them under control. Yet he couldn’t resist making her an offer. “There is a fine restaurant between here and the ROB that advertises ‘food from every Planets’ and actually comes close to living up to that. Since I am fortunate enough to have a skimmer at my disposal, I’d be glad to take you there.”

  “Lead the way,” Rasha’kean said without hesitation. Stanmorton was about to save her from what might otherwise have been a dull evening.

  The trip to the restaurant was filled mostly by Henley’s trying to answer her questions about the sights along the way. It was only after they had received their drinks and ordered their dinner that he repeated the question he had asked after they bumped into each other.

  “Schopper,” she answered. “I’m the new addition to his staff.”

  “May I ask in what capacity?”

  “Logistics. But I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you for now. What about you? I thought from the tone of your stories that you liked bein’ where the action was.”

  “I do, but for the moment I’m sticking as close to General Schopper as he will let me. I have the feeling that he’s going to be in the center of whatever happens next. “He has a good reputation.”

  “He’s brilliant, Colonel. I was there on Sutton and got to see firsthand how he deployed his troops and coordinated with General Mari’s forces and…” The thought of Mari brought a quick end to his enthusiasm. Sometimes in his dreams he could still smell Mari dying beside him.

  “Wer’not you there – with Mari, I mean – when he died? Di’not I read that in the Flag Report?”

  “Yes, I was there. And it was such a waste.”

  “Why? What made it a waste?”

  “Are you serious?” He held the rest of his reply until their waiter set two small flower-petal salads in front of them and moved away. “Mari was just showing off for the troops, trying to raise their morale before the area was totally secure. He got me shot and he killed because of that.”

  “Your sore shoulder?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a tone in his voice that made her wonder which he was angrier about, his wound or Mari’s death. “You think he was stupid, d’not you?”

  Henley took a forkful of salad and chewed it thoughtfully before answering. “No, not stupid, just foolish. It didn’t have to happen.”

  “But at least we got victories at Sutton and Satterfield,” Rasha’kean said, shifting the subject slightly. She was fascinated by Stanmorton’s willingness to talk so freely. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was a Teller.

  “We can’t afford many more victories like the ones at Sutton and Satterfield – and certainly no more like the one at Matthews’s system.” The salad was good, and it’s slightly bitter flavor matched his mood. “We need to take the war to the Ukes as quickly as we can, not wait for them to come to us.”

  “And you think Schopper can do that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? The Joint Chiefs have decided to back Admiral Gilbert, even after the losses we took at Satterfield. And Gilbert called Schopper back here for intensive planning. Any spacer in the halls could see that-” He quickly cut off the rest of what he meant to say. “I’m sorry, Colonel. I meant no disrespect.”

  “None taken, Chief.” Rasha’kean had not touched her salad so she began to eat steadily, waiting for him to reopen the conversation. When he did, it was not what she expected.

  “You look like your mother,” he said.

  “You kenned her?”

  “Not really,” he lied, wondering why he had brought up her mother again. There was nothing to be gained from it. Did a story on her back in the last war and talked to her a few times after that. She was a very beautiful woman.”

  “And a damned fine officer,” Rasha’kean said, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. Why was beauty the thing he remembered about her mother instead of her achievements? “And a gorlet addict,” Henley added softly as he picked at his salad.

  Rasha’kean was startled even more. “You kenned that?”

  Suddenly Henley remembered those last few meetings with then Post-Commander Phondu Ingrivia – those personal meetings during which he had tried to counsel her. How could he tell this young colonel what he really knew about her mother? Or the even darker suspicions he had? He couldn’t. It would be cruel and pointless to share that with her.

  “Yes, I knew that. I tried to find help for her.”

  There was a long silence between them as their meal arrived and they began eating. Henley concentrated on the food, annoyed with himself for spoiling the evening but uncertain as to how to make amends.

  Rasha’kean felt uncomfortable i
n Stanmorton’s presence but at the same time she wanted to ken more about hi connection to her mother. Finally, she had to ask. “You tried to find her help to break her addiction?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  Henley looked up into the clear brown eyes and silently cursed his careless tongue for getting this whole thing started. “When you were a young girl. She had given up the gorlet while she was pregnant with you and then years later went back to it. I tried to make her see what it was doing to her, but she wouldn’t listen. I wanted to–“

  “Why? Why were you so concerned about my mother?”

  Rasha’kean needed to know what Stanmorton was holding back from her. Her mother had been the most important person in Rasha’kean’s life, and she never stopped hungering after new information about her.

  Henley couldn’t tell lngrivia the truth, but he was afraid to lie. Somehow he knew she would know if he lied now. “Because she asked for my advice,” he said, giving her a half-truth. “She saw me as a neutral, objective party.”

  Rasha’kean sensed his reluctance. “There’s a lot more to it than that, i’not there, Chief?”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “But you’d rather not be talkin’ about it?”

  He felt grateful and tried to smile. “That’s correct.”

  “Then I w’not be askin’ you anythin’ else for now. But I might be later.”

  “Maybe later I can tell you.” But I won’t, he thought. I can’t. I dare not tell her-

  “From the frown on your face, Chief, I ken it will be a struggle to get it out of you.”

  Henley sighed and looked at her half-empty plate. Well, now that I’ve ruined your meal, how else can I be of service?”

  “I think we ought to get quietly drunk,” she said, looking straight into his eyes.

  The genes will tell, Henley thought, then immediately caught himself. He had no right to make that judgment.

  “It’ll take me some alcohol to settle down tonight.” And get the rest of this out of you, she added to herself. “Do you ken someplace we can do that without attractin’ too much attention? Or shall we buy a liter and take it to my quarters?”

  Henley had no intention of drinking in her quarters. “I know a place,” he said, “if you have some civy clothes. They’re not much fond of the service there.”

  “Happen to have some in my duffel,” she said. “But what about you?”

  “We’ll check you into the ROB and change, then head for the Millius Tank where you can drink to your nerve’s delight”

  And where I’ll pump you for the rest of truth, she thought. “You’re still in the lead, Chief. Let’s do it now.”

  U.C.S. VICE-ADMIRAL FRYE CHARLTOS massaged his forehead with the tips of his long brown fingers.

  2

  Despite what he had told Bridgeforce, despite the victory at Satterfield, and despite the continuing reports of successful skirmishes against Sondak throughout the polar systems, he was no longer sure that the United Central Systems was winning this war it had started under his military leadership almost three long years before. He was not afraid of losing because he knew in his heart that the U.C.S. could never – would never – be defeated. But true to his early warnings to his staff and line officers Sondak had proved a difficult enemy.

  With a long sigh he pulled his hands away from his face and returned to the stream of information still pouring in on his microspooler. There was so much to do – and so little time to. Do it in – that he couldn’t afford any more minutes wasted in worry. So long as he did his job properly, he knew he could lead the U.C.S. to ultimate victory. That was all that mattered, and that was what he had to focus his attention on.

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Melliman’s voice said over his desk speaker, “but Meister Hadasaki just called to tell you he is on his way down to see you. Didn’t say what he wanted to talk about.

  “Thank you, AOCO. Bring him in as soon as he arrives.”

  “Will do, sir. Shall I prepare tea?”

  “Good idea, AOCO,” Frye replied, and realized again how grateful he was for Melliman’s presence not only in his office but in his whole life.

  Moments later Melliman entered the office and went directly to the tiny kitcove to make the tea. Frye watched her openly, admiring the suggestions of her figure that showed through the neat tucks of her uniform, thinking of the joy she had brought into his life.

  He blinked and for a brief instant saw not Melliman standing with her back to him, but Vinita – a young, beautiful, healthy Vinita, a Vinita before – With a quick shake of his head and another blink he shook off that image.

  Vinita was dead. He had killed her three years ago—killed her to keep her from dying in pain-and it was time to forget, time to scatter those images on the same winds that had scattered her ashes over the slopes of her beloved Irkbie mountains. But he couldn’t forget. He would never forget. No matter what happened, Vinita would always be a daily part of his life.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  Frye was startled for an instant to see Melliman standing so close to him. “Yes, Clarest. I was just thinking about Vinita,” he said, glad that he could tell her that.

  “As you always should,” she said softly. She reached and straightened the memo-box on the corner of his desk, brushing his hand in the process. “The tea will be ready when Meister Hadasaki arrives, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

  He heard the undertone of affection in her voice and was all too aware of her hand brushing his, yet he was pleased beyond measure by the proper military way she conducted herself when they were on duty. “I’m fine, AOCO, for now. Perhaps later, however, we should discuss this.”

  “As you wish, sir,” she said as she left the office. A few Minutes later she was back, ushering in Meister Hadasaki.

  “Sit, Admiral, sit,” Hadasaki said with a wave of his hand as he crossed the office in his long strides. “And you, Captain,” he said to Melliman, “serve us some of that tea this office is famous for, and then leave us alone.”

  Frye was shocked and amused by Hadasaki’s blunt manner but was willing to wait until after Melliman had served the tea and left before saying anything. “You’re in a rude mood today, sir.”

  “Forgive me, then. But don’t waste time worrying about it, Charltos. I have several very important things to discuss with you-not the least of which concerns that renegade daughter of yours.”

  “Which one?” Frye asked. “I have so many.” The look on Hadaski’s face made Frye regret his attempted humor. Hadasaki was obviously not in the mood for virility jokes. Especially that one, Frye thought. Yet Hadasaki was the only person who could laugh with him about that. No one else knew.

  “You know damn well,” Hadasaki said after sipping his tea. “After she deserted on Yakusan, I thought the U.C.S. Was done with her. But now Judoff has discovered that your daughter is in league with the Oinaise on some deal concerning a new weapon.”

  “The Oinaise? A new weapon? Where’s Judoff getting all this information? And what does it have to do with us?”

  Hadasaki laughed curtly. “Who knows where Marshall Judoff gets anything except the young officers who service her? We know where they come from. But don’t ask how I know what Judoff knows. Just tell me what you know.”

  Frye hadn’t heard from Marsha since sending her away to find her Sondak trader, and sadly, he was resigned to the fact that he might never hear from her again. “Nothing you don’t, sir. We weren’t on the best of terms, you know. She apparently left Yakusan with an Oinaise broker on a lightspeed freighter with neutral Patros registration. After that, who knows?”

  “Judoff thinks she knows, so you’d better find out if you can, Charltos, because if her information is correct, she’ll use it against you with Bridgeforce, you can bet on that.”

  Frye nodded, agreeing that Judoff would use anything she could against him but not that he was going to try to find Marsha himself. He had released her f
rom her promise to serve with him and sent her as close to her Captain Teeman as he dared. He had no idea how she had escaped, but he did have one about where she wanted to go – Oina. That was where she had sent the message to Teeman. “You said there was something else you wanted to discuss, sir?”

  “Several other things, Charltos, like when will the plans be completed for the next major offensive and when are you going to present them to Bridgeforce? Surely you can see that we’re losing time if we don’t mount this next attack as quickly as possible – and losing supporters, too.”

  Frye allowed himself a small smile. “I thought you and almost everyone else on Bridgeforce wanted the first two bombships finished before then?”

  “The bombships are damned! They may never be finished.”

  “Forgive me, Meister,” Frye said with a quick wave of his hand. “I meant no disrespect. The plans should be ready within ten days.”

  “Good. It’s about time. Now the important question is – the one Bridgeforce will demand an answer to – how deeply can we strike without the bombships?”

  “It’s a three-phase operation, sir, fairly close to the preliminary proposal Bridgeforce approved. If the first two phases are successful, the third phase will be the attack on Nordeen itself.”

  Hadasaki whistled softly. “Can’t get any deeper into Sondak than that, Charltos. But do you really believe we can do it – without the bombships, I mean?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.” Frye sounded more confident than he felt, but as overall offensive commander of the U.C.S. Forces, he had no choice. He had to believe that his plans would lead to the final victory.

  * * *

  Delightful Childe stroked his long, wrinkled proboscis with a seven-fingered hand and pulled his lips tight over his blunt, yellowed teeth. Humankind was an exasperating species, and individual humans always seemed worse than the norm. Yet despite his feelings of reserve about Marsha, he liked these two humans, and he wanted to be fair to them. By his faith in the Gods, he had to be fair to them.