Flagship (7 page)

"It's a hell of a way to fight a war," snorted Val.

"I know it's going to disappoint the hell out of you," said Cole, "but I have no interest in fighting a war." She stared at him curiously. "I'm only interested in winning the war, and if I can do it without firing a single shot, I'll be just as happy."

"We're growing a strange crop of heroes this year," said Val.

"Heroes fight bravely and die young," said Cole. "I'm just a guy who's playing the cards that were dealt to him."

"Besides," said Sharon's disembodied voice, "maybe Garcia and Wilkie will take the hint and resign."

"Yeah," said Val. "Right after the stars stop in their courses and I run off with David Copperfield."

"If I were a bookmaker," said Cole, "I'd call it six-to-five pick 'em."

Cole's messages had an immediate and deleterious effect. Not on the
Teddy R,
which was a third of a galaxy away from Deluros VIII, but on almost anything that moved and didn't bear the insignia of the Republic.

A convoy of eleven ships, carrying ore from the mining worlds of the Frontier to the shipbuilding world of Spica II, didn't identify itself quickly enough and was obliterated.

Two men—one high on whiskey, one high on drugs—got into a fight on Bishawn IV. Weapons were drawn, a single pulse blast was fired, it went wild and hit a bystander, more guns and shots were fired, the bartender sent out a distress signal that people were shooting at each other, the Navy picked it up, and a moment later the tavern and all seventy-one of its customers and employees were vaporized.

Every ship, whether business or pleasure, was inspected, released, then inspected again in the next system, and the system after that. Anyone who didn't give the Navy the answers they wanted, or who didn't give them fast enough, or clearly enough, or often enough, was incarcerated without appeal.

Loyal alien worlds, longtime members of the Republic, were suddenly viewed with suspicion. Terrified ambassadors—Cole's messages had passed through channels and had leaked within an hour—insisted on Navy escorts. Private ships became convinced that other private ships were in the employ of the notorious Wilson Cole, and began firing on each other.

"I should have thought of this a long time ago," remarked Cole as the most recent reports came in.

He was sitting in the mess hall, where he had been joined by Sharon, David Copperfield, and the Platinum Duke.

"You know, we may win this conflict without firing a shot," said David.

"That's the best way to win a war," replied Cole.

"I hear that the Seventh Fleet is being recalled to defend Deluros," said the Duke. He chuckled. "Against
us!"

"It all seems to be going smoothly now," said Sharon, "but pretty soon they're going to notice that we're not attacking them, on Deluros VIII or anywhere else."

"Sure we are," said Cole with a smile. "And they can prove it. After all, haven't they already destroyed two hundred of our ships, and pretty much decimated five planets that we've used as bases?"

Sharon shook her head in wonderment. "Who'd'a thunk it?" she said in bemused tones.

"My friend Steerforth," answered David promptly. "No one but an Englishman would be this subtle and this brilliant."

"David, give it a rest," said Cole. "I've never even been to Earth."

"Stop contradicting me!" demanded David irritably. "Of course you're British! If you weren't, you couldn't have thought of this."

"Why don't you just agree with him?" suggested the Duke. "That is, if you want to discuss another subject anytime in the next few weeks."

Jacovic's image flickered into existence. "It's official, sir. They've pulled back the Seventh Fleet, and there are rumors that they'll soon be recalling the Fourth to bolster their planetary defenses as well."

Cole frowned. "That doesn't make any sense," he said. "If they call back the Fourth, they're ceding the Matheson Sector to the Teronis."

"Evidently they're more afraid of you, sir," suggested Jacovic.

"They can't be that incompetent," said Cole. "We're not that lucky." He paused and considered the situation. "They've been pouring men, ships, money,
everything
into that sector for fifteen years. Now they're just going to walk away because of a threat from one ship?"

"They don't know how many ships we have, Wilson," said Sharon. "The only thing they
do
know is that they sent three hundred ships out to Singapore Station last month, and none of them returned." She paused. "They don't know that it was touch-and-go all the way, and that we lost close to two thousand ships."

Jacovic's image faded and vanished.

"It just goes to show you," said the Duke. "Never underestimate the power of fear."

"I know Admiral Garcia," replied Cole. "And if there's anything in the galaxy she's afraid of, I'm not aware of it, and neither are you."

"Then why do you suppose they're reacting like this?"

"I don't know Egan Wilkie," said Cole. "I suspect this is being done on his orders, not hers."

"You know," said Sharon, "this just might convince him to sign a truce with the Teroni Federation. If he decides he can't fight both the Teronis and the threat from within, he might choose to fight the latter."

"It's not going to happen," said Cole firmly.

"Why not?"

"First, this can't last. They've got to figure out pretty soon that we haven't fired a shot yet. And second, the Teronis are no fools. If he's too eager and offers them too many concessions, they'll know he's doing it out of weakness. They've been at this for more than a quarter of a century; what's one more year if your enemy is in deep trouble?"

"Then what was the point of all this?" asked David Copperfield. "I mean, if they'll know in a week or a month or even three months, what real damage have we done them? All we've done is tell them that the
Theodore Roosevelt
is inside the Republic."

"They don't even know that," replied Cole. "All they know for sure is that we weren't at Singapore Station when their fleet of eight hundred ships arrived."

"Then I repeat: why have you gone to the trouble of doing all this?"

"I sent one message to two locations," replied Cole easily. "It wasn't any trouble at all."

"Damn it, Steerforth! You're toying with me!"

"Use your brain, David," said Cole.

The little alien frowned. "I'm thinking," he said. "Nothing's coming."

"Domak?" said Cole, raising his voice.

"Yes, sir?" said Domak's image, appearing over the table.

"Have you got the latest damage reports?"

"There's been no damage to the ship, sir."

"I mean inflicted by the Republic in the McAllister Sector."

"Yes, sir. I have it right here."

"Stick it on a holoscreen and transmit it down here, please."

A holographic screen with a three-dimensional map of the McAllister Sector and a long readout below the map suddenly replaced Domak's image. Cole scanned the readout intently for a few seconds, found what he was looking for, and leaned back.

"Thank you, Domak," he said.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Yeah. Tell Jacovic we're going to New Lenin, and have Pilot lay in a course to get us there. Tell him we don't want to arrive in less than three days. We wouldn't want to run into any Navy stragglers."

"I'll get right on it, sir," said Domak, ending the connection.

"What was that all about?" asked David.

"New Lenin is the banking and trading capital of the McAllister Sector," said Cole. "Or at least it was until two days ago."

"What happened?"

"The Navy decided we had a secret base there," answered Cole. "End result: there are an estimated sixty-three thousand dead, most of the major buildings in the capital city of Gromyko have been destroyed, and as far as I can tell the
Teddy R
remains unscathed."

"That's tragic, of course," said David, without much emotion. "But what does it have to do with what we were just discussing?"

"David," said Cole, "if we're going to defeat the Republic, we're not going to do it with eight hundred ships and four thousand men."

"I'm still not following you."

"New Lenin has a population of three million," answered Cole. "Their planet has just been attacked for no valid reason by the Republic." He paused and looked into the little alien's eyes. "Now, if you were going to recruit a few thousand motivated men and their ships to our cause, where would you look for them?"

"I see!" said David, his eyes widening.

"That's where we're heading now. And every time the Republic overreacts against another world, we'll be there signing them up."

"That might even make mean old Mr. Creakle proud of you, Steerforth!"

"Who the hell is Mr. Creakle?"

"Our headmaster," said David reproachfully. "How could you forget?"

"I must have lost my head," answered Cole as Val entered the mess hall. "Or maybe I confused him with Barkis."

"Ah!" said David happily. '"Barkis is willin'."'

"Good," said Val. "Let's recruit the son of a bitch."

During the flight to New Lenin, Cole had Christine locate alien colonies and enclaves along the way. He sent Braxite out in the
Archie
to recruit Molarians from the alien enclave on Kipling V. Domak was given the
Alice
and told to recruit Polonoi from the colony on Bednari III.

"We have two shuttles left," noted Sharon. "Who do we send out next?"

"We have one shuttle left." They were in Cole's office, and she looked at him questioningly. "The
Teddy R
can't land, so we'll need the
Kermit
to take us down to New Lenin's surface." He paused. "I'll probably turn the
Quentin
over to Jack-in-the-Box."

"His name's Jaxtaboxl."

"He doesn't mind," noted Cole. "No reason why anyone else should. Anyway, there's a fair-sized Mollutei population on Win-schlaager VI. I think we'll let him try his luck there."

"What about David?"

"He's the only member of his race any of us have ever seen, he insists that he comes from nineteenth-century London, and besides, if they're all like him, do you really want a bunch of them fighting on our side?"

She laughed. "You have a point." Then: "Who are you sending down to New Lenin?"

He simply stared at her silently.

"No!" she said adamantly. "The Captain doesn't leave his ship in enemy territory, damn it!"

"It hasn't been enemy territory for a few days," said Cole.
"We
didn't decimate it."

"They're a part of the Republic. You're the Republic's most wanted criminal."

"We're going there because we're betting that they don't consider themselves part of the Republic either," said Cole. "I want them to see me, hear me, question me, and convince themselves that contrary to what the Navy's been telling them for the last few years, I'm not the Antichrist."

"How about convincing
me
and following regulations?" demanded Sharon.

"Whose regulations?" he shot back. "The same Navy we're fighting against? We haven't been part of it for four years now."

"Damn it, Wilson!"

"I'll come back intact and unharmed, guaranteed."

"What is your guarantee worth?" she asked bitterly.

"Not
mine"
he corrected her. "Val's." She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "I'm taking her along as my bodyguard. Feel better now?"

"Okay, she'll protect you from them," said Sharon. "Who'll protect
them
from
her?"

"She'll be all right," said Cole. "I've used her in this capacity before."

"Will you at least signal ahead and make sure they won't shoot you before you open your mouth?"

"Of course."

"You promise?" she said suspiciously.

"My Chief of Security's opinion to the contrary, I'm not suicidal."

"Maybe not, but you seem to think you can only be killed by a silver bullet. You've been one hell of a lot luckier than you deserve to be."

"That helps too," acknowledged Cole.

"Sir?" said Christine urgently as her image popped into existence.

"What's up?"

"A lone Class H Navy ship is approaching under a white flag."

"How many men aboard it?"

"None, sir."

"A bomb?"

"No, sir. I didn't make myself clear. Mr. Briggs has scanned it. It has a crew of two, both Lodinites, not Men. There are no explosives on board."

"Have they sent a signal?"

"Not yet," said Christine. "Wait a minute. Yes, here it comes. They want to talk to you."

"Ship-to-ship or face-to-lace?" asked Cole.

"They don't care."

"Then make it ship-to-ship and patch it through to my office."

Instantly the images of two furry Lodinites appeared above Cole's desk.

"Which of you is Captain Cole?"

Cole was tempted to say "The ugly one," but realized that standards of beauty varied from race to race, and if they immediately began conversing with Sharon he might get a momentary chuckle out of it but it wouldn't keep him very warm when he went to bed alone for the next few nights, so instead he said, "What can I do for you?"

"We come under a flag of peace," said one of the Lodinites.

"I know," said Cole. "That's why we allowed you to come this close."

"We are members of the Navy."

"I know that too."

"There are more than a million Lodinites in the Navy. We fought at Man's side in the Sett War, and the Battle of the Brazi Cluster, and we have been fighting with Man against the Teroni Federation for twenty-nine years."

"Then what brings you to the Republic's most wanted criminal under a flag of truce?" asked Cole, hoping he knew the answer already.

"It was just serendipitous that we spotted the
Theodore Roosevelt.
We were on our way to the Inner Frontier."

"Why?"

"The Republic has put Lodin XI under martial law!" growled the one who had remained silent. "We are their most loyal ally, and they have the temerity to do that to us, just because some of our leaders spoke out against their overreaction to your threat against Secretary Wilkie."

"We want to join you!" chimed in the other one.

"I think that can be arranged," said Cole. "With a couple of stipulations."

"What are they? What pledge must we take?"

"No pledge, no oaths. You're here; that's proof enough that you don't want to be
there.
I want one of you to come aboard the
Teddy
R—"

"The what?" interrupted the first Lodinite.

"The
Theodore Roosevelt
," replied Cole. "One of you comes here, and one of our crewmen will transfer to your ship."

"May I ask why?"

"He'll know our codes and program them into your computer, and he'll be able to extract things from your ship's computer you didn't even know were there. And the one of you who's transferred here will learn our methods and our rules. It won't be permanent; the two of you can be together again in a few days—but probably not on that ship."

"Why not this ship?"

"It's a Navy ship. I'm going to want one of my best pilots to have it. If he can pick off the occasional Class H or Class J Navy ship, and let the survivors identify him, the Navy will start wondering how many of their ships we control. They might start seeing ghosts and shooting each other, just the way they're currently shooting up planets that we've never touched down on. Anyway, that's my plan, and that's my offer. You can accept it or you can retreat out of range of our weaponry before we call an end to the truce."

"Will we eventually join the crew of the
Theodore Roosevelt?"

"Yes, if you wish."

"Then we accept it."

"Good. We'll send a shuttle out with our man very shortly, and bring one of you back here."

He broke the connection, then contacted Christine.

"Yes, sir?" she said.

"Can we do without Briggs for a few days?"

"I suppose so, sir," she said. "But if so, then let's reschedule Lieutenant Domak so we're not both on duty at the same time."

He nodded his head. "Spread the expertise out. Makes sense. Put me on the ship's audio."

"Done."

"Mr. Briggs," said Cole as his voice echoed throughout the
Teddy R,
"pack a few days' worth of clothes and edibles, and get down to the shuttle bay."

He waited a moment, then directed Idena Mueller to pilot the
Kermit
to the Lodinites' ship, trade Briggs for one of the Lodinites, and then return to the
Teddy
R.

"Can you give me a few minutes, sir?" she asked, her voice fuzzy with sleep. "You just woke me."

"Sorry," said Cole. "Yeah, take as much time as you need. The Republic's been around a couple of thousand years. I don't suppose another ten minutes makes much difference."

The trade was effected half an hour later, and Cole had Luthor Chadwick, Sharon's second-in-command in Security, locate Val for him. She was working out with Bull Pampas in the makeshift gym near the infirmary. He waited another half hour until they had finished, showered, and gotten back into their uniforms, then contacted Val and asked her to come to his office.

"I need a beer," she said. "Lifting weights is thirsty work. Why don't you meet me in the mess hall, or in that undersized closet that passes for the Officers' Lounge?"

"The mess hall is fine," said Cole. "Five minutes?"

"I'll be on my third beer by then."

He just shook his head in puzzlement. "I will never figure out how you can drink like a fish and stay so damned good-looking."

"Good genes," she replied with a smile. "And my workouts would kill you—or anyone else on the ship besides Bull."

He showed up in four minutes, and found she was just finishing her second beer.

"I hear some Navy ship just surrendered to us," she said by way of greeting.

"Not quite," Cole replied. "It was a little Class H job, and they've joined us."

"Can you trust them?"

"Can
they
trust
us?"
he replied. "I've got Briggs over there working on their computer right now."

"Okay, enough polite small talk," said the Valkyrie. "Who do you want me to lean on?"

"Hopefully no one," he said. "I'm going to take the shuttle down to New Lenin. I want you to ride shotgun and protect my back."

"You got it," she said.

"Don't look so damned eager. We're trying to recruit these people, not go to war with them."

"Do
they
know it?"

"They will, before we land."

"Men like you take all the fun out of war and carnage, you know that?"

"I'll try to live with the shame," replied Cole.

Val ordered another beer from the galley. "You want one? My treat."

"What do you mean, your treat? Nobody pays to eat on the ship."

"No one's paid me since the battle back at Singapore Station, so it's a wash. Now, do you want one or not?"

"Not," said Cole. "And go easy on that stuff after today. No one likes a drunken pirate queen."

She stared at him for a moment. "That's a pretty daring challenge."

"Forget I said it," said Cole. "Just be ready."

He got up and left the mess hall. He wasn't sleepy, and he felt a little claustrophobic in his office after they'd been in space for a week or more. He considered the exercise room, but he hadn't lifted weights or run on a treadmill in almost twenty years. He went down to Gunnery, ostensibly to inspect it, actually just to pass the time and talk a bit with Bull Pampas, but Pampas was off duty and he had nothing to say to the Mollute he found there. Mustapha Odom was always good for a chat, but when Cole went down to Engineering he found that Odom was on his sleep shift.

Some life!
he thought.
I
traverse the galaxy, I visit star clusters you can't even see from my home world, I have the universe at my fingertips—and I spend most of my adulthood feeling like a goddamned sardine in a can.

He looked in at the Officers' Lounge and found David Copperfield and the Platinum Duke playing cards.

"Hi, Steerforth," said David, looking up.

"I didn't realize you two were officers," said Cole wryly.

"We're gentlemen," replied David. "That's just as good."

"Still playing whist?"

"It's a proper game for gentlemen."

"And it's the only one I can win at," said the Duke. "If I can ever figure out the odds, I'm going to add a table when we get back to Singapore Station."

Cole merely stared at him.

"I know, I know," continued the Duke at last. "But if I didn't believe there was a chance, then what the hell am I doing on this ship?"

"There's a chance," said Cole gently.

He left them playing their game, and eventually wound up on the bridge. Christine was the Officer on Deck, speaking rapidly to the main computer in a language Cole was sure only the two of them understood. Idena Mueller and Bujandi, a native of far Peponi, were also on the bridge, tending to their various stations.

He walked over to Idena. "No problem with the transfer?"

"I thought we already reported to you that it was successfully accomplished, sir," she replied. "I believe Colonel Blacksmith is debriefing the Lodinite in Security right now."

"Fine," said Cole. He turned to Christine. "Everything going smoothly for Mr. Briggs?"

"He reports that he's familiar with the computer, and should be done coding it and downloading its public and private contents within twenty Standard hours."

"Tell him he'll be staying until we've thoroughly indoctrinated the Lodinite whose place he's taking."

"Meloctin, sir."

"Meloctin to you, too," he said, frowning in puzzlement.

"That's the Lodinite's name, sir—Meloctin."

"Fine."

He wanted to strike up a conversation, but all three crewmembers were busy performing necessary tasks. Suddenly he became irritated with himself.
What's
wrong
with
being bored in a war zone?
he asked himself. All right, no one was shooting at anyone and there were no enemy ships within a parsec, but even so the entire Republic was a war zone for anyone aboard the
Teddy
R,
and especially its Captain.