Rich Man's War (24 page)

Booker adjusted the display. “If they haven’t done it yet, I don’t think they’re going to… and I think I’ve figured out why. Look.” He called up the computer’s analysis of the nearest contacts. One read as a destroyer, positioned tens of thousands of kilometers out and limping away. Another, nearer and perhaps once directly over the spaceport, drifted helplessly. “That’s a frigate.”

“Wow,” blinked Tanner. “You think
Joan of Arc
did that, XO?”

“
Joan
or
Argent
or a combination of the two. I don’t read anything that looks like either of them floating around out here, so that’s a good sign.”

“
I wasn’t sure a corvette could take down a frigate.”

“
It’s possible, but you have to get pretty lucky. Pretty lucky and pretty good.”

“The big question is still open, lieutenant,” said Vanessa. She turned to look at him expectantly.

Booker took a long breath. “We hit the lunar orbital line in another minute. We can keep going for a while before we jump to FTL, but we’re almost clear of the red zone. Obviously, I don’t think we can wait until we get all the way out to the legal FTL line, so… thoughts?”

“It’s your call, sir,”
replied Tanner.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want input
,” Booker assured him. “You saw what happened to some of the ships that dropped out of FTL close to the planet. We could end up like that. We’re further out than they were, but you know the risks,” he reminded, looking from Tanner to Vanessa.

“I’ve done some time as an
astrogator,” she told him. “I understand. Do it.”

Booker glanced up at Tanner, who in turn looked back toward the small living compartment aft of the cockpit. His fellow crewman lay on one of the two bunks. “You want me to try to get a vote out of Sanjay, sir?”

“I’d bet my entire salary I know how he’d vote,” said Booker.

Tanner took another look at the sensor bubble display. The invading ships held their positions. Most of the other contacts were identified as wrecked or destroyed spacecraft. The spacer’s ethics drilled into Tanner by Chief Everett in basic training demanded that they at least try to make some sort of search and rescue sweep, but that was plainly suicid
e. “I say let’s get out of here, sir.”

With that, Booker turned back to his controls and laid in a course perpendicular to
Scheherazade’s orbit around its star. “Giving it about a minute-long run to get us clear,” he explained, “then we’ll work up our best course back to Archangel.”

He waited with his hands over the controls as the packet ship floated steadily away from home and the numbers on his screens shifted. A dot representing the ship moved closer and closer to the line that denoted the orbital path of
Scheherazade’s moon, which offered a relatively reliable benchmark for minimum safety—at least, by civilian emergency standards. Military operations could cut things closer, but no one on the packet ship thought their vessel capable of such feats.

The ship crossed the line without incident
. Booker counted down from ten to give them a little more distance, then executed the FTL jump. The packet ship rumbled and lurched much as they expected, with the stars growing fuzzy and blurred as the ship’s speed exceeded that of the light around them.

Everything in the ship held together. No alarms blared. The rumble faded as quickly as it began.

“That’s that,” sighed Booker. He sank back in his chair, as did Vanessa. Tanner relaxed slightly as well, knowing the worst of the danger had passed. Now all they had to face was a long stretch of boredom and the common perils of space flight, but that was a far cry from being shot at.

“You should probably get off that leg for a little while, Tanner,” Booker suggested.

Tanner spoke mostly in a mumble. “Aye, aye, sir. I’ll go check on Sanjay.”

He limped back through the very short passageway into the “berthing” cabin between the cockpit and the similarly small and cramped storage and engineering space. Embedded in one bulkhead were bunk beds and small storage cabinets. The other bulkhead offered several humble appliances for cooking and cleaning. Sanitation facilities, which amounted to a small closet, were equally limited. A packet ship such as this sometimes had cargo modules attached, but unfortunately, this one had no such extra frills. Even an empty container
module would have at least offered a little more in the way of living space.

Tanner slumped down into one of the two chairs at the compartment’s small table. On the table lay a pile of foil-wrapped packets of food Tanner appropriate
d from a vending machine near the packet ship’s hangar berth before launch. He’d grabbed other emergency supply bags and even raided a break room refrigerator before they left as well. The results of his hurried scavenging littered the deck of the small living space.

It would be a long trip—considerably longer than the voyage would take
Joan of Arc
or
Argent
. The packet ship’s short-range practicalities meant that it would have to travel at a slow clip in order to stretch out its fuel supply.

Tanner frowned, trying to make sense of his thoughts. He felt the ship lurch as it dropped back out of FTL, but
that was expected. Rather than return to the cockpit, Tanner gathered the foil packets of food, sorting and counting them out. Before long, the ship shuddered as it jumped to FTL once again.

“Hey,” croaked Sanjay. “Guess we made it out, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tanner said, forcing a little bit of a smile. “We’re out of the shooting, at least.”

“That’s good. Getting shot sucks,” the injured crewman sighed. With his shoulder now sealed in a gel pack, the biggest concern was blood loss. Still, Sanjay had made it this far and remained stable.

“You’re awake?” asked Booker as he and Vanessa stepped out of the cockpit.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Sanjay mumbled.

“I think he’s gonna be okay, sir,” said Tanner. “If we keep him warm and off his feet and make sure he drinks plenty, he should recover from the blood loss.”

“They teach you a lot of emergency medicine in basic these days?” asked Vanessa.

“Yeah,” Sanjay managed, “and he’s got a half-dozen medical textbooks on that holocom of his.”

“It’s true,” Tanner confessed.

“Nobody’s complaining,” said Booker. “Well, the FTL drives on this thing aren’t bad at all. We’re looking at eight days before we’re back in our own territory—probably get there a couple days behind
Joan
and
Argent
. I’d take us to the nearest safe port if that were practical, but there’s nothing closer than other Hashemite territory. Given the shifting politics out here, I’d say it isn’t worth the risk. So we’re looking at a long and boring ride home.”

“Air and water look like they’ll hold up fine,” said Tanner. “This thing’s old, but they kept up on all the maintenance. Ship’s food stores were only
set up to support two people for one week, though. It’s all emergency survival stuff.” He paused, glancing at Vanessa. “Agent Rios picked us a good one.”

“It pays to plan ahead,” she
replied.

“And the extras you picked up?” asked Booker, gesturing to his pile of foil packages on the table.

“Meals might be skimpy and a lot of this is snacks rather than substantial food, but doing the math in my head, I think we’ll be okay.”

“You know, I admit I thought you were going a bit overboard,” Booker grinned at the assortment of boxes and bags on the deck, “but I guess it comes from experience, huh?”

“‘Abandon ship’ kind of leaves an impression once you’ve done it for real, sir.”

“We did
good out there today,” said Booker, looking to each of the three people in the cabin with him. “I don’t think we could’ve pulled this off if any one of you hadn’t been there. Agent Rios, I’m glad you decided to join us. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, lieutenant.”

“XO,” spoke up Tanner, “you did good, too, sir. You held us together, kept us on the right track. Hell, if
Argent
hadn’t panicked and opened up on us along with those tanks…” The thought threw him off, making Tanner lose track of whatever he meant to say. Eventually, he shrugged. “I’m glad you were all there, too.”

* * *

Tanner awoke in the dark living space of the packet ship, forced to consciousness by the buzz of his holocom against his wrist. He rubbed his face, stretched his arms out and yawned, reflecting that he must have slept more deeply than he’d expected. Climbing out of the top bunk, he found that his knee hurt somewhat less than before, that Sanjay’s medical monitors all gave steady readings, and that Booker, laying on a makeshift bed of emergency blankets on the deck, snored louder than any officer should.

He needed only a moment in the ship’s tiny head to freshen up. Careful not to wake his shipmates, Tanner stepped back out of the head and then into the cockpit, closing the door behind him. He found the internal lights relatively dim. Light from the stars quickly streaked past the canopy, blinking in and out as the ship moved faster than any photon could naturally travel.

Tanner found Vanessa in the pilot’s seat with her feet up on the control panel. A pair of holocom screens floated in front of her. He noticed sharp differences in style and format between the two screens, although both showed mostly alphanumeric code and little in the way of user-friendly icons.

“Have a seat
.” Vanessa tilted her head to the co-pilot’s chair. “Hope you don’t mind if I hang around up here for a while longer.”

“Not a problem.” Tanner settled into the chair and gave the control panel a quick look. Nothing was out of the ordinary. FTL travel continued on, as it would for days to come. As long as the ship held steady, there would be little to do. Military piloting standards mandated that a constant watch be kept regardless—and it gave a very bored crew at least a little bit of structure and activity. “What are you up to?”

Vanessa’s eyes slid over to meet his. Tanner frowned, nodded, then held up one hand. “Never mind. I know the joke. Don’t tell me so you won’t have to kill me.”

“
That joke is ancient.” Vanessa held up the holocom that sat in her lap, causing the two screens to ripple as the device compensated for movement. “Trying to crack the holocom you swiped from inside that tank.”

“Getting anywhere?”

“No, and I don’t expect to,” she sighed. “It would be a miracle if my little piece was enough to beat the encryption on this thing. Cryptology isn’t one of my stronger skills, but I have nothing better to do. How’d you sleep?”

“Fine
.” He noted the change of subject and decided not to press the issue. Someone like Vanessa probably had to exercise great care in casual conversations like this. “I imagine the longer we’re stuck on this ship, the harder it’ll be to sleep. Not much physical activity.”

“I imagine there wasn’t much physical activity working in
Ascension Hall, either. That why you signed up for more shipboard duty?”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me,” he said, hoping to sound playful rather than sour.

“Hard not to. Your girlfriend made a point of everyone knowing.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“I’m shocked,” she chuckled.

Tanner gave up trying to mask his irritation. “You’ve been taking shots since we met. What’s your problem with me?”

Vanessa bit back her immediate response. She stared at her holo screens for a moment longer, then swept the screens aside to float beside her, away from the conversation. “Envy,” she admitted with another sigh. “It’s envy and a lot of self-criticism and doubt, and it’s a problem with me, not you. But you’re right here and it’s hard not to kick. Sorry.”

“What have I got to envy?
”. Vanessa huffed in response, half laughing, and he added, “If you wanted to be famous, I imagine you wouldn’t be a spy.”

“It’s not the fame. It’s the success.”

“How so?”

“You did what I couldn’t do. Or what I thought I couldn’t do, but then I saw you pull it off.”

Tanner fell silent, watching her and waiting. Vanessa frowned. “How high is your security rating?”

“Only Delta,” he shrugged. “They do the background check at the palace to clear you all the way to Epsilon, but they don’t actually give the rating. It’s just in case you see or hear something by accident.”

“Right,” she nodded. “I didn’t know if they’d gone further with you because you’re… well, you.”

“Nobody made any special exceptions for me,” Tanner shook his head. Vanessa snorted. It only got him irritated again. “I’m here because—!” He stopped, looked away and sighed. “Okay, that’s stupid. I’m here because Admiral Yeoh decided she wanted me here.”

“Uh-huh. Listen, I’m a top intelligence agent, and I don’t have anyone like Admiral Yeoh calling me out by name.”

“She stuck me on
Joan of Arc
because my qualification time underway didn’t add up to a year yet,” he grumbled. “That’s what I mean. So, yeah, people know who I am. But nobody’s bending any rules for me. Lots of ratings require a full year of time on an underway billet as a non-rate, so here I am. I got onto the honor guard, yeah, but so do a lot of other non-rates, okay? I have Delta clearance. Seems pretty high to me as it is.”