Flagship (16 page)

By the time they attacked the fourth world they were making galactic news, and the government, try as it would, couldn't keep it quiet. Experts were actually suggesting that the totally nonexistent death toll numbered in the tens of millions.

Cole decided that when Jacovic made his fourth appearance, he should not be standing alone and isolated. He selected a few crew members he'd picked up on the Inner Frontier, members who could not possibly be identified as being members of the
Teddy R'
s crew, put them in dress uniforms, and had them pretend to be going about their business in the background as Jacovic spoke.

The news transmissions went crazy. Were these humans turncoats working for the Teroni Federation? And it wasn't long before some of them spotted certain things in the bridge's structure that convinced them that it was a Navy ship, which immediately implied that some Navy ships had gone over to the enemy, and that made
every
Navy ship a potential turncoat, to be avoided, or lied to, or possibly even fired upon.

Cole knew what would come next, and recorded a message that was inserted into a probe and aimed at the Inner Frontier. Before it got there, someone had suggested that Jacovic was speaking from the bridge of the
Teddy R.
The probe then transmitted a holo of Cole, explaining that he
wished
his ship had been causing all the damage, but as Susan Garcia and others could testify, the ship was almost a century old, and it was now back in the Inner Frontier for reoutfitting. If they didn't believe it, all they had to do was trace the signal back to its source (which immediately self-destructed once the message was sent).

Within a week, Egan Wilkie's approval rating was in single digits, the lowest in the Republic's nineteen centuries of existence. He finally took to the galactic airwaves, admitted that serious damage had been done to a small handful of outlying planets, and laid the blame squarely at Admiral Garcia's feet. He demanded that she use all the resources at her command to find and capture or kill the saboteurs. (In one transmission, they were saboteurs; in another, insurrectionists; in a third, genocidal maniacs.) He explained that he had been elected to run the government; Susan Garcia was in charge of the Republic's physical safety, and it was her job to put an end to these attacks.

"Did you hear the latest?" asked Sharon as she burst into Cole's office.

"David's running a whist tournament?" suggested Cole.

"Be serious," she said. "I'm talking about the latest news."

"Probably not."

"I didn't think so, so I had Luthor capture it. Wait just a second." She gave Luthor Chadwick a brief order, then stepped back as Admiral Susan Garcia's face suddenly appeared above Cole's desk.

"We will do everything we can to apprehend these terrorists," she was saying, "but of course Secretary Wilkie misspoke when he said we would use the full force of the military to do so. He seems to have forgotten that we are in an all-out war against the Teroni Federation, and if I pulled every ship—or even a goodly number of them—back from that conflict to hunt for a small number of terrorists, the Republic would find itself overrun in a week. I would suggest that Secretary Wilkie stick to worrying about expenditures and taxation, and leave the security of the Republic to the Navy."

Susan Garcia's face vanished, and Sharon's sported a huge grin. "I think we've got them fighting with each other!"

"Stupid," said Cole. "She's the more competent of the two, but it's not a fight she can win. Eventually he'll call for her resignation. If she agrees to it, she's finished; and if she refuses, she's in open rebellion."

"If she
does
refuse, will the Navy side with him or her?" asked Sharon.

"I've been out of touch for four years," said Cole. "I just don't know."

"You've met her," said Sharon. "What was she like?"

"I disliked her personally," said Cole. "She was smug, self-centered, and abrasive—but she was a damned good admiral."

"Didn't she give you your last Medal of Courage—the one you won after you were transferred to the
Teddy R?"

"Very reluctantly," said Cole with a rueful smile. "I was grateful that medals are bonded to the uniforms these days. If we'd been back in the days when they were affixed with pins, I honestly believe she would have stuck the point into my chest."

"And of course you were the personification of sweet reason," said Sharon, returning his smile.

"We didn't get along very well," said Cole.

"Somehow I think that you won't get along any better with Egan Wilkie."

"With any luck, he'll be history in a few more weeks."

"He must still be wondering what the hell's going on," she suggested.

"That's the purpose of the exercise," agreed Cole. "By the way, how's our newest crew member working out?"

"Gentry? There are no aliens for her to speak to—well, none that aren't programmed into our T-Packs—so I've got Bull Pampas teaching her the Gunnery section."

"She has no problem with that?" asked Cole.

"Should she?"

He shrugged. "It's easy to join a war when all you have to do is translate. It's a little different when you're expected to help shoot the enemy."

"She seems fine."

"Good," he said. "You know, I think there must be a few billion Gentrys out there—decent folks who would be repelled by some of the things the Navy does in the Republic's name,
their
names, and just want to get from one day to the next without hurting anyone or being hurt themselves." He paused and sighed. "That's a fair appraisal of human motivation. I wonder why it's such a faulty description of human history?"

"Sir," said Briggs's voice, "there's a Navy ship approaching. They're demanding we identify ourselves."

"We couldn't stay unseen forever," said Cole. "What class is the ship?"

"Class K, crew of twenty."

"Weaponry?"

"Checking . . . Unless it's been enhanced, this particular model carries two Level 4 burners and a Level 3 thumper."

"Okay," said Cole. "Give them a phony name and registration, and send Gentry to my office on the double."

"Yes, sir."

A moment later Gentry entered the office. "You sent for me, sir?" she asked.

"Yes," said Cole. "I need a face that's never been identified with the
Teddy R.
In a minute we're going to be contacted by a ship that's been trying to identify us. They'll think we might be the
Teddy
R,
but they won't know for sure. They'll give us some orders, maybe want us to hold our position for boarding. You'll identify yourself as the Captain of the ship, claim that Admiral Garcia has ordered you to hunt this sector for saboteurs, and if they want to hinder us by making us stand still for a boarding, you will accede to their demands but will report to Garcia that they were responsible for delaying you. Do you think you can do that?"

"Just tell me what our ship's name is," she said.

"Listen to Mr. Briggs's reply," he said, right before it was piped throughout the ship.
"The Brave Bull"
said Cole, making a face. "He could have used a little more imagination." Then, on a private channel, he said, "Remember, Mr. Briggs—neither Sharon nor I can be seen."

"I understand, sir," replied Briggs.

"Brave Bull,
I must speak to your senior officer," said a voice.

"I'll put you through, sir," said Briggs, and suddenly the image of a man wearing a Captain's insignia popped into view in the office.

"You are the Captain?" he said.

"That's correct," answered Gentry.

"You're not in uniform."

"When my ship is traveling incognito under express orders from General Garcia, I'll dress any way I please," she answered haughtily.

"We have no record of
The Brave Bull,
either by name or registration number."

Gentry smiled contemptuously. "What part of the word 'incognito' don't you understand?"

As she became more pompous and dismissive, the other captain became more and more defensive. Finally he conceded that she had the right to be in this sector, and he would now retreat and go about his business.

"Very nice," said Cole after the connection had broken. "Are you sure you haven't had any experience on the stage or in the holos?"

"None," said Gentry, suddenly collapsing on a chair. "I was
so
nervous!"

"You didn't show it," said Cole. "And you saved twenty lives."

"I did?" she said, surprised. "Whose?"

"The other ship. They had nothing that could breach our defenses. We have weapons that could have vaporized them."

"I know it sounds bloodthirsty," said Gentry, "but why
didn't
you fire on them? After all, they
are
the enemy."

"First, we don't know if they were in contact with any other ships, and we'd much prefer that the Navy think we're on the Inner Frontier."

"And second?" she asked.

"They could have fired, and didn't," said Cole. "They could have insisted on boarding us, and didn't. They're decent men and women who are just trying to protect other decent men and women. They're not the enemy, Gentry; they're working for the enemy."

"But you'd have destroyed them if you had to?"

"Without a second's hesitation," he replied.

"I believe you," she said, studying his face. She got to her feet. "I suppose I'd better get back to Gunnery."

When the door snapped shut behind her, he turned to Sharon. "She did a good job. Better than Moyer or one of the others we picked up on the Frontier would have done."

"I agree," said Sharon.

"Keep an eye on her," continued Cole. "She has qualities."

"I'm the one who told you she did."

"And I'm agreeing with you. I like her."

"Good," said Sharon. "And if you touch her, I'll cut your hand off."

"What do I care?" said Cole. "The Captain's not obligated to salute."

"I'm sure if I thought about it, I'd find other things to cut off," she replied.

"You old broads get so jealous."

"It's just to make you old geezers feel good."

"Let's go to my cabin," suggested Cole. "We can feel good a lot more comfortably down there."

It was six hours later that Val's voice woke them.

"I hope I'm interrupting you at an awkward moment," she said.

"No," said Cole. "You're waking us up before we indulge in another awkward moment."

"Perhaps you'd like to celebrate first," said Val, and now her face appeared with a huge grin.

"All right," said Cole. "I'm awake. Now what have you got to tell me?"

"You'll be interested to know that as of twenty minutes ago, Egan Wilkie demanded Susan Garcia's resignation."

"That
fast?" said Cole.

"I've got a bigger surprise for you," continued Val. "As of five minutes ago, she gave it to him."

"You're kidding!" said Sharon.

"It's working!" laughed Val. "The fucking Republic is falling apart!"

Suddenly the ship shuddered.

"Well, all but the part that just started shooting at us," she added.

"Who the hell is it?" asked Cole, getting to his feet.

"Who else? The Navy," answered Val.

"Not that little ship that wanted to stop and board us earlier today?"

"No, they know better than to go up against us. But your pal Gentry's answers must not have satisfied them, because now they've got a Class L ship firing on us."

"Are there any other ships with it?" asked Cole.

"Not so far," said Val. "But then, they've only been shooting at us for maybe half a minute."

"Have you fired back?"

"Of course I fired back!" she said irritably. "They're shooting at
my
ship!"

"Cut and run," said Cole.

"If we cut and run, they'll know we have no business being here," said Val.

"If you fired on them, they know it already," replied Cole. "Cut and run."

"Where to?"

"Away from them and away from Deluros," said Cole. "No sense drawing even more of a crowd."

"Are we
ever
going to engage with one of these damned ships?" demanded Val.

"When the time is right," said Cole. "Put me through to Pilot."

Wxakgini's face appeared, his eyes still closed, his brain still attached to the navigational computer.

"Pilot, how far to the nearest hydra-headed wormhole?" asked Cole.

"There are none in this vicinity," replied Wxakgini, "but we are very close to the Sondermeyer Wormhole, which will let us out six thousand light-years from here in the neighborhood of the Tiznow Wormhole."

"And that one's hydra-headed?"

"At one end," confirmed Wxakgini.

"Entrance or exit?"

"With this approach, the exit."

"How many heads has it got?"

"Six," answered the pilot. "But two are unstable."

"Take us there, as fast as we can go."

There was a momentary pause, and then a brief shudder. "We are now inside the Sondermeyer Wormhole," announced Wxakgini.

"Good," said Cole. "I assume the Navy ship that was firing on us will follow. Now, once we emerge in normal space and we enter the Tiznow hole, can you navigate inside it—which is to say, can you choose which of the six exits we emerge from?"

"No, I cannot," said Wxakgini. "The hole will choose which exit it wants us to use."

"It's not always the same?"

"It is not."

"So if the Navy ship enters in hot pursuit a minute or two later, it won't necessarily come out through the same exit?"

"That is correct."

"How far apart are these six exits?"

"On average, two thousand light-years," answered Wxakgini.

"That'll do," said Cole. "Val, I assume you were listening?"

"Yes."

"Don't fire a shot until we come out of the Tiznow hole," continued Cole. "If they come out the same exit, we're all through running and we'll take them on."

"You mean it?" said Val excitedly.

"If we can't elude them, I don't see that we have any choice but to stand our ground and fight."

"We will emerge from the Sondermeyer Wormhole in less than four minutes," said Wxakgini.

"Good," said Cole. "One of these days we've really got to program the locations of all these damned wormholes into the computer."

"They are already in the computer," said Wxakgini.

"Oh?" said Cole, surprised. "I never saw them there.

"That is because I am in the computer, and I have encrypted them against detection."

"We're not the enemy, Pilot."

"I never thought you were," answered Wxakgini. "It is just a precaution."

"What if
you
die during combat?" demanded Cole.

"Then the
Theodore Roosevelt
will be without direction, and will be destroyed within seconds."

"He doesn't value himself too highly, does he?" said Val sarcastically.

"He's right, Val," admitted Cole.

The ship shuddered again as they returned to normal space.

"That was fast, even for a wormhole," remarked Sharon.

"They don't travel through normal space," said Cole. "If we could find the right one, we could conceivably reach the Andromeda galaxy in twenty minutes instead of two hundred years."

"One hundred eighty-seven," Wxakgini corrected him.

"Who cares about Andromeda?" said Meloctin, who was working one of the computers. "There are some really outre galaxies out there."

Cole turned to Sharon. "Do you get the feeling that my bedroom isn't as private as it was ten minutes ago?"

"Go be a hero," she said. "I'm off to Security."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Cole. "I've told Wxakgini where to take us, and if anyone starts shooting, Val's better able to defend the ship than I am."

"You're not going back to sleep while we're being chased through a wormhole by a Class L Navy ship?" she said incredulously.

"No," he said. "I'm awake now. But I think I'll take a shower and grab some breakfast—maybe some coffee and a couple of those awful Danishes."

"While we're under attack?"

"We're
not
under attack," he corrected her. "We're under pursuit. And the odds are that when it's over, we're going to be a few thousand light-years away from our pursuer."

"What if they sight us between the wormholes and start shooting while you're in the shower?"

"That's why I have competent subordinates," Cole replied. "The days of a captain standing on the bridge for two or three days at a time, tying himself to the wheel, are long gone."

"You just better hope the days of hanging captured captains from the mainmast are just as long gone."

"They got rid of all the mainmasts last year," he said with a smile.

"Damn it, Wilson—I'm being serious!"

"Leaving aside the fact that you love me and Val probably isn't your type, be honest now: which of us would you rather have protecting your ass when the chips are down?"

"You," said Sharon without hesitation.

"I asked for an honest answer, not an argumentative one," said Cole.

"That was an honest answer. She may be better in combat, but she'll never look for alternatives to killing or being killed, and you will."

"I'll consider that a compliment to my intellect rather than my lack of courage."

"Your lack of bloodthirstiness," she corrected him.

"Whatever," he said, walking toward the washroom. "You going to scrub my back?"

"I really don't think this is the time for it," she said. "I'll be in Security."

The ship shuddered again as he was showering, and he realized they had entered the Tiznow Wormhole. He was out, dried, shaved, dressed, and sitting in the mess hall when the ship shuddered one last time.

"We're out," Val informed him as he finished ordering his breakfast.

"Any sign of the Navy ship?"

"No, but it was a minute or two behind us."

"Keep me informed," said Cole. "And while I'm thinking of it, have Pilot find out just where the hell we are."

A moment later her face appeared again.

"Who did you kill?" asked Cole.

"No one," she said, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because you had such a happy smile on your face." He paused. "So do we know where we are, and has the Navy ship shown up?"

The smile returned. "Not yet, but I sure as hell hope it does."

"Oh?" said Cole. "Why?"

"Because this head of the wormhole spit us out on the Inner Frontier."