Flagship (9 page)

Gromyko smelled of death. Most of the bodies hadn't been removed yet, and the odor wafted up to the roof where the
Kermit
had set down.

Cole turned to Val before opening the hatch. "No sudden moves. These guys figure to be more on edge than most."

"Got it," she replied with no show of concern.

"I mean it, Val. If your hip itches within four or five inches of your burner or your screecher, let it itch. You reach to scratch it, I can almost guarantee someone's going to take that as an excuse to shoot."

She frowned. "Then why the hell am I here anyway?"

"Not to face thirty or forty armed men," said Cole. "But once we get in the studio or whatever it's called, I want you to keep your eyes open."

"You don't really think the Republic's got a spy here?" she said dubiously.

"No, not after what happened," replied Cole. "But don't forget— there's still a twenty-million-credit price on my head. You don't have to favor either side to want to collect it."

She nodded. "Okay, it makes sense."

"I'm so glad you approve." He opened the hatch. "Let's go."

They emerged onto the roof, where they found themselves facing some fifty armed men and women dressed in street clothes—which was logical: no one would wear a Republic uniform on this planet, and they wouldn't have had time to organize and equip an independent force.

Augustus Lake stepped forward. "The notorious Captain Cole," he said by way of greeting. "Will your assistant relinquish her weapons?"

"No," said Cole before Val could refuse in even harsher terms. "She won't use them without cause, but I wouldn't want to be the guy who tries to take them away from her."

Lake looked up at Val, who towered a foot above him, and shrugged. "As you wish. We will have to trust one another." He headed off to an airlift. "Follow me, please."

Cole fell into step behind him. Val looked like she wanted someone to take a shot at him, but no one moved, and she joined them in the airlift as it descended a dozen levels.

"How bad was it?" asked Cole.

"Worse than I hope you can imagine," answered Lake. "Here we are."

They stepped off the airlift and entered a large room. There were perhaps thirty chairs, and each of them was filled. There were three holographic cameras, each of which turned to him and tracked him as he walked to the front of the room.

Cole waited until Lake seated himself. Val stood about ten feet to his left, her arms folded, scrutinizing each member of the audience in turn.

"I want to thank you for allowing me to address you," began Cole. "I know the propaganda you've been subjected to since the Navy and I parted ways. I'd like to begin by telling you the truth of what transpired. Every member of my crew who was with me at the time will vouch for it, and so, if she's being honest, will Admiral Susan Garcia."

"The
Theodore Roosevelt
, under the command of Captain Podok, a warrior-caste Polonoi, was charged with patrolling the Cassius Cluster, with myself as First Officer. Our orders were to protect large fuel depots on two worlds, Benidos and New Argentina, and not let that fuel fall into the hands of the enemy.

"One day the Fifth Teroni Fleet showed up in force, some two hundred ships strong, and headed for Benidos. There was no way our single ship could stand against them. Captain Podok interpreted our orders to mean that the fuel was to be kept from the Teronis at all costs."

Cole paused, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he remembered that fateful day. "She gave the order to destroy Benidos rather than allow the fuel to fall into Teroni hands. In the process, she killed three million Republic citizens.

"She then directed the
Theodore Roosevelt
to do the same thing to New Argentina, which was home to five million human colonists. I couldn't let her slaughter them, so I relieved her of command and made an accommodation with the Commander of the Fifth Teroni Fleet: if he would take the fuel and do no harm to the citizenry, we would not try to hinder him, nor would we do to New Argentina what Podok had done to Benidos. I might add that that same Teroni Commander eventually came to the conclusion that his Federation is no more worth his loyalty than the Republic is worth mine or yours, and he is currently the First Officer aboard the
Theodore
Roosevelt.

"I surrendered myself to the military authorities and was perfectly willing to defend myself at a court-martial. But while I was awaiting trial, Captain Podok went to the press and claimed that I had taken control of the ship solely because she was a Polonoi. It happens that most of the inhabitants of Benidos, though members of the Republic, were not Men. No one knew what she planned to do to Benidos until it was done, but the press broadcast the story that I only took the ship away from her when she threatened members of my own race on New Argentina.

"Word reached my attorney that because of pressure from the media, the result of the trial was predetermined, that I and two so-called accomplices were to be found guilty to avoid a public relations disaster, and officers who objected to the verdict were quietly being replaced by those who didn't. My crew broke me out of the brig, and we have spent the past three years on the Inner Frontier."

He surveyed his audience, trying to determine if they believed him. No one had any questions, so he continued.

"I had intended to remain on the Inner Frontier for the rest of my life, but the abuses of the Republic don't end at the Republic's border. They have plundered colony planets, conscripted men and women, and otherwise exercised a power and authority that was never given to them, and they've been doing it for as long as they have existed. The tipping point came last year. They captured my First Officer and tortured him to death in an attempt to learn the
Theodore Roosevelt's,
whereabouts from him. Then, to punish the planet where they had found him, they came back in force and obliterated it and every living thing on it.

"I declared that the Inner Frontier was now off-limits to the Navy. I formed some unlikely alliances, and the thing came to a head a little more than a month ago, when the Republic sent a force of three hundred ships after us. We emerged victorious, but then they recently sent a larger force, and I realized that we could meet each force in battle until we were finally defeated, or we could go after the source of our problems, which was not the Navy, but the people who created the Republic's policy and gave orders to the Navy—and as you know, they're all on Deluros VIII."

"How many ships have you got?" asked a woman.

"About eight hundred."

"It's suicide," said a man. "Eight hundred ships against the Republic!"

A middle-aged man stood up. Val eyed him like a predator eyes its prey as he walked up to the stage and stood next to Cole. "Last week I had a wife and three children. Today I don't." He extended his hand to Cole. "Captain Cole, you've got eight hundred and one ships."

And suddenly half of the audience was on their feet, pledging their support.

"I assume this is what you came here for?" said Lake.

"Eventually we're going to need ships, equipment, money— everything that any navy needs," Cole confirmed. "But right now we need to organize, which means we need recruits and recruiters." He waited until all the pledges and promises died down and then addressed the room again. "Man needs a government, and in a frequently hostile universe we need a Navy as well. I don't want to upset the social order. I don't want to disband the Navy. I don't want anarchy. I simply want the Republic to do what it was empowered to do, and if that means getting rid of Secretary Wilkie and Admiral Garcia, then that's what I plan to do. The Republic is like a poorly trained pet or a misbehaving child. If you ignore its faults and don't correct them, eventually it assumes they are not faults but virtues, and suddenly you've got a monster on your hands. Men have been looking the other way for too long; we're faced with a monster, and we're going to have to do something about it. And we can. There are sixty thousand worlds in the Republic. They haven't all been abused in quite the same devastating way as New Lenin, but an awful lot of them bear major grudges, not against the concept of a Republic but against the abuses of
this
Republic. When the time comes, I'll ask you to join us in the battle, but right now you can be of much greater value to me if you'll go to other Republic worlds and recruit a goodly number of their citizens to our side."

"I'll join," said one man, "if you'll turn Egan Wilkie over to us when you finally get him."

Cole shook his head. "I can't promise that. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of worlds with an equal claim to him."

"So you just want cannon fodder, not justice," said the man angrily.

"If you believe that, don't join me," said Cole.

"You can't win without us, and a hell of a lot more like us!" persisted the man.

"Perhaps not," said Cole. "But I'm not going to make any promises or commitments that I can't keep."

They spoke for another twenty minutes, and when Cole and Val finally returned to the ship, he was convinced that he had won most of them over, and that they, in turn, would win thousands of citizens of New Lenin, and even more from other worlds, to his cause.

He was feeling exceptionally pleased with himself by the time the
Kermit
touched down in the shuttle bay and he set foot on the
Teddy
R.

Then Jacovic told him what had transpired while he was gone, and his euphoria vanished.

"When did it happen?" asked Cole as he reached the bridge.

"Hard to say," replied Jacovic. "Somewhere between two and ten hours ago."

"I
told
him he couldn't hold off two Class L ships," said Cole. "What about his other ships?"

"We don't know. They may be destroyed; they may have been captured."

"But he's definitely a prisoner?" continued Cole.

"Yes."

"Any idea where he's being held?"

"No," said Jacovic.

"Fucking grandstander!" muttered Cole. "He knew better! He cost maybe a hundred men their lives."

"If he'd succeeded, he'd have disrupted their economy for a few weeks," said Jacovic in defense of the Octopus.

"A
tiny
portion of it," growled Cole. "So he would have destroyed twenty tons of gold—big deal! There are sixty thousand goddamned worlds in the Republic. That's less that a pound of gold per world!" He paused. "I don't suppose Christine or Briggs put in some distress signal that only we can read?" Jacovic merely stared at him. "No, I didn't think so." He raised his voice. "Sharon, I assume you're eavesdropping again?"

"I am," she replied. "And I'm sorry about the Octopus."

"I'm a hell of a lot sorrier for his crew," said Cole. "The Republic is already making Men a little rarer than they were. He had no call to waste them like that." He tried unsuccessfully to force the tension from his body. "I'm going to grab a sandwich. Why don't you meet me there?"

"I've got some busywork to finish," she said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Fine." She broke the connection and he turned back to Jacovic and Domak. "Any other good news?" he said sarcastically.

"We heard from Lafferty ..." began Domak.

"And?"

"He still doesn't have an engine, but he says he thinks he has a lead to one."

"Well, compared to the Octopus, I suppose that's good news," said Cole. He walked over to Wxakgini. "Pilot, there's always a chance that the Navy will come back to admire their handiwork. Get us out of here."

"Where to?" asked Wxakgini.

"How far are we from the Pollux system?"

"Thirty-six light-years."

"How long to get there?"

"Using the Cormean Wormhole, nine hours," answered Wxakgini. "However, the wormhole has been unstable lately, so it could take considerably longer to traverse."

"Use it," said Cole, turning away from him and approaching Jacovic. "Pollux IV is the only inhabited world in the system, it's got a population of less than ten thousand, almost all of them farmers. No way the Navy is going to show up there, and we could use some fresh supplies for the galley. I can't be the only person who's sick to death of soya products."

Jacovic nodded his head. "I'll contact them after we emerge from the wormhole."

"Fine," said Cole. "See you later."

He walked to the airlift and took it down to the mess hall. He'd just finished ordering his sandwich when Sharon showed up.

"Val tells me you were a smashing success," she said.

"Really?" he said. "I thought she only considered a mission a success when she got to kill some guys on the other side."

"Are you going to let what happened to the Octopus color everything you say for the rest of the day?" she said. "There are five empty tables here. I could sit at one of them."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just hate waste, and he wasted seven ships and who knows how many lives." He reached across the table, took her hand, and squeezed it gently. "Okay, the subject is closed."

But it wasn't.

It was an hour after they emerged from the Cormean Wormhole when Christine's voice and image woke him from a nap he'd been taking in front of a mystery holo.

"Yeah?" he said, collecting his senses. "What is it?"

"We just had a communication from Mr. Sokolov, sir."

"And?"

"He has a prisoner."

"He's in a two-man ship," said Cole. "What the hell is he doing with a prisoner?"

"He went out of his way to capture this one, sir," she said.

"Do you enjoy stringing this out?" said Cole irritably. "Just tell me what's going on."

"I wanted to make sure you were totally awake."

"I am now."

"Thanks to the coded upgrades Mr. Briggs and I installed in Mr. Sokolov's computer, he was able to pick up a signal from another small ship, concerning the disposition of the Octopus."

"Well?" demanded Cole, suddenly alert.

"I gather they've got him and about eighty survivors. They intend to transfer him—well, probably all of them—in the next two days. They plan to hold a show trial that will be broadcast throughout the Republic, and when they find them guilty of treason, which of course they will, there will be a public execution."

"Where's the trial to be held?"

"I don't know."

"Doesn't matter anyway," said Cole. "Wherever it is, it'll be all but impregnable. Where's the Octopus now?"

"I don't know."

"Does Sokolov?"

"No."

"How far away is he?"

"Wxakgini says if Mr. Sokolov uses the Bellermaine Wormhole, he can be here in two hours."

"Tell Sokolov to get his ass in gear!" said Cole. "We just may be able to pull some Octopus fat out of the fire after all."

"Yes, sir."

She contacted him again less than three minutes later.

"Problems?" asked Cole.

"No, sir. Mr. Sokolov is on his way."

"Then what is it?"

"I was wondering: should I contact any of our allies? I mean, if we're going to try to rescue the Octopus ..."

"Not yet," said Cole. "First we have to find out where he's being held. There's no sense telling any of our ships to rendezvous here if we're a thousand light-years from where we need to be."

"I hadn't thought of that," she replied. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Not a problem," said Cole.

"Val would have thought of it instantly," continued Christine.

"Probably," agreed Cole. "But Val couldn't have rigged Sokolov's computer to pick up that conversation."

She finally smiled. "I hadn't considered that. Thank you, sir."

Cole got to his feet, left his cabin, and went to Security.

"Hello, sir," said Luthor Chadwick, standing and saluting as he entered. "I assume you wish to speak to Colonel Blacksmith?" He began walking toward the door.

"Stay here," said Cole. "I want to talk to both of you."

Chadwick looked surprised, but remained standing at his desk.

"Sharon," Cole said, facing her private office, "come out here."

She emerged a moment later. "I hear we're about to get a prisoner."

"That's what we have to talk about," said Cole.

"All right," she said. "Talk."

"The Octopus is still alive," began Cole. "So are most of his men. We don't know where they are, but it figures to be near the dust cloud where he made his attack. The problem is that there are at least thirty habitable planets in the general area. They're moving him and the others in two days, maybe sooner, and we have to assume they're moving him closer to the center of the Republic where it'll be impossible to rescue him. I don't think we can pull it off while they're in transit; it's too hard to get to the ship without one side or the other destroying it." He paused and stared at each in turn. "That means we've got to get that information from our prisoner
fast,
in time to attempt a rescue before they're moved."

"How much time would you say we had, sir?" asked Chadwick.

"The prisoner will be here in maybe two hours. Figure you'll have six hours to break him."

"That fast?"

"We could need ten, fifteen hours to get to where they're holding the Octopus. Or one hour. We won't know until you get that information. And of course we'll have to come up with some kind of plan, which we can't do until we know where they're incarcerated. We can't just blast our way in; we'd probably kill the prisoners as well as the jailers."

"Six hours," said Chadwick dully.

"Tops. Three would be better."

"Well, we can try some bliathol," said Sharon thoughtfully.

"What's bliathol?" asked Cole.

"One of the newer truth drugs," she replied.

"Have you ever used it before?"

"When's the last time we grilled a prisoner?" she said.

"Not since I've been on the
Teddy R,"
he admitted. "What if it doesn't work?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "We don't have a sensory deprivation tank."

"Too bad we don't have any telepaths in the crew," said Chadwick.

"There are only two known telepathic species in the galaxy, and neither has any use for the Republic," said Cole.

"Why don't you leave us to discuss it?" said Sharon.

"All right," said Cole. "I'll check back with you later."

"We'll be here," she replied.

He went back up to the bridge.

"Christine, patch me through to Mr. Sokolov, coded and scrambled."

Vladimir Sokolov's face appeared above Christine's computer.

"Good work, Vladimir," said Cole.

"Thank you, sir."

"I've been getting this secondhand. What, exactly, did you hear that led you to capture your prisoner?"

"The voice at the other end of the transmission—I couldn't trace its location—was saying that they'd just captured close to eighty prisoners," said Sokolov. "When he described the leader, I knew it was the Octopus. Anyway, he told my prisoner that they'd transfer the Octopus and the others to a much safer location in the next two Standard days. They were expecting a Class N dreadnought, but just in case it didn't show or was late, they wanted all the firepower they could muster, including my prisoner's ship. When I heard that I homed in on his signal and disabled his ship before he knew I was there. I killed his antenna, his transmitter, and his Level 2 thumper, and then started blowing bits and pieces of his ship away until he surrendered."

"Surrendering bespeaks a certain interest in reaching an accommodation with his captors," said Cole hopefully.

"He's given me his name, his rank, his serial number, his home planet, everything I could possibly want," said Sokolov. "Except the location where they're holding the Octopus."

"Sharon and Luthor will try their best to help him remember," said Cole. "See you soon."

He cut the connection.

"What will we do if he doesn't talk?" asked Christine.

"That's not an option," answered Cole grimly. "If he doesn't talk, eighty good men and women will die."