The Thirteenth Man (27 page)

“Charlie,” Roger said, completely forgetting himself for the moment. The tone of awe in his voice made them all turn his way.

Roger sat at one of the desks, the glare of an active screen reflected in his eyes. “You're looking at just one of four such warehouses, all of the same size. This manifest lists ten completed transition drives in inventory, all of cruiser class or better.”

Seth and Roacka both hurried to stand behind Roger and look over his shoulder. Charlie stayed at the plast windows and turned to survey the warehouse while listening. “If I'm reading this correctly there are over fifty large transition batteries, thirty transition launchers, and assorted sublight drives and power plants, all completely assembled, modularized, and ready to be installed in hulls. It looks like there's also enough stocks of smaller spare parts to keep a fleet of thirty or forty warships going for at least a year.”

“But no hulls?” Charlie asked.

“No, no hulls.”

There wouldn't be. Charlie had asked more as a matter of form. One didn't assemble hulls in a gravity well, not even one as insignificant as Luna's. For just an instant Charlie imagined he could see Cesare's reflection in the plast beside him. “You sneaky bastard, you,” he said, and didn't try to hide the smile that formed on his face. “Where are the hulls?”

A
t the entrance to the apartments Delilah and Carristan shared, Charlie said, “Computer, please inform Her Royal Highness that I wish to see her.”

Several seconds passed, then Carristan opened the door and greeted him very formally. “Your Grace,” she said, curtsying deeply. When she straightened she gave him a smug look.

Today Del wore a light summer dress that fell to just below her knees, just the tiniest bit transparent, with a few too many buttons undone in the front.
Well, actually,
he thought, stealing another glance at her,
maybe it isn't too many.

She took his arm as if they were a young ­couple enjoying a stroll on a clear spring day. “Let's walk in the garden,” she said.

She guided him into the indoor garden, with Carristan following several paces behind them. Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the older woman. She returned his look with a knowing smile.

Del said, “You know, she's not going to leave us alone.”

“Why?” Charlie asked.

Del shook her head sadly. “After the way you kissed me. Absolutely shameless! My mother would never approve.”

Charlie recalled that he hadn't really been the one in control of that kiss. Yes, he'd initiated it, but once begun Del had piloted the ship rather nicely. He considered saying something like,
You seemed to enjoy it,
but decided to keep that thought to himself.

“So,” Del said, “you're supporting the resistance?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You did when you were pretending to be Edwin Chevard.”

Winston, Roacka, and Charlie had discussed how much to tell Del. Charlie wanted to bring her into his inner circle, but Winston was reluctant to do so, while Roacka vehemently opposed the idea. If Del fell into the wrong hands, she or Carristan could be put under deep neural probe, and anything she knew, they would know. “Only need-­to-­know,” Roacka had reminded him.

Charlie didn't like it, but he'd capitulated.

“I do support the resistance,” he said, “though, does that really surprise anyone?”

“No,” she said, “it doesn't. So what exactly are you doing to support them?”

With more ships each day taking advantage of Andyne-­Borregga's facilities, its importance in the opposition to Goutain and Nadama was becoming less of a secret every day. So he figured he could at least share
that
bit of information with her.

Charlie said, “I'm trying to support a free port that FAR can use for supplies and repairs for its ships.”

Del stopped in the middle of the garden, forcing him to stop with her. She turned to face him. “That's wonderful. I'm well aware that ships can't operate without some sort of base.”

“But it's straining my meager resources to the limit.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling, “the penniless bastard thing again.”

He shrugged. “Still penniless, but no longer officially a bastard.”

“So what can I do to help the resistance?”

She caught him off guard with that question. “I'm not sure, but let me think on it.”

Long after he left her that day, that question remained at the forefront of his thoughts. He discussed it carefully with Winston and Roacka.

“Let's put her in front of the press,” Roacka said, “have her publicly denounce Nadama and Goutain's aggression.”

Winston said, “She can't do that because she'd be denouncing her father as well. And it wouldn't be fair to put her in that position.”

Charlie decided to get Arthur's advice on the subject, but that would have to wait until his next stop at Andyne-­Borregga.

 

CHAPTER 26

PLATFORM TWELVE

C
harlie and Winston met Paul, Roacka, the twins, and Pelletier in Starfall's security center. Charlie had grown to trust Pelletier as Cesare once had, especially since it was because of Pelletier that he'd gotten Arthur back. Like Cesare, he'd made Pelletier his chief of security, and Pelletier had adopted Starfall's security center as his command center, though it was, as yet, badly understaffed. Darmczek and Seth were absent, each captaining one of the hunter-­killers and making life miserable for the occupation forces in Aagerbanne. But with the exception of those two, he had his most trusted team together.

Nadama's occupation forces on Aagerbanne had captured a resistance cell, and among the prisoners taken were some Finalsan naval officers there to liaise with the resistance. Interrogation of the Finalsans provided solid proof that Finalsa was actively supporting the resistance. Nadama, Theode, Lucius, and Goutain used that as an excuse to declare war on Finalsa, which did not have the wherewithal to resist the combined forces of the Four Tyrants, a label that had stuck nicely.

Roacka laughed. “Bet old Karlok's pissing his pants that he's been overlooked and it ain't the Five Tyrants.”

All knew that the war with Finalsa would be short, resulting in the annexation of all Finalsan territories, unless they could help slow things down. The other independent states continued to support the Aagerbanni resistance behind the scenes, but were now also providing support to Finalsa, and were demanding support from those duchies that did not support the Four Tyrants.

Roacka summed it up nicely. “We're a night-­with-­a-­whore and a hungover afternoon away from open warfare throughout the independent states.”

Charlie tried to swallow the uneasy fear that had settled in his stomach. As a naval commander he knew they weren't ready. “We can't risk open war yet. The coalition is only just starting to come together, and we can't fight a war without it. We have tentative agreements, but until we shake the bugs out of working together as a combined naval force, we're just a bunch of independent ships on the same side. They'll eat us alive.”

“Maybe we should back the hunter-­killers off a bit,” Roger said. “Ever since we cut them loose with orders to torpedo as much of the Four Tyrants' shipping as possible, there's been absolute chaos in the shipping lanes through the independent states.”

Roacka shook his head. “I say we keep up the pressure. Even Darmczek admits he was wrong about the hunter-­killers.”

Charlie asked, “They're still a well-­kept secret, aren't they?”

Roger grimaced and admitted, “Ya, by and large. They're getting resupplied out of Andyne-­Borregga, and spacers get shore leave and head to the bars. And spacers talk, and brag, and other spacers listen and see the hunter-­killers in dock.”

“Arthur's been monitoring the situation,” Winston said. “He and Mrs. Toofat have established a network of agents working the bars on Andyne-­Borregga. He says the bragging and general talk from the hunter-­killer crews is being met by considerable skepticism, especially since the hunter-­killers obviously don't have the firepower of even a small destroyer. And the spacers to whom they're bragging are our allies anyway.”

“In any case,” Roacka added, “no one has adopted tactics to defend against hunter-­killer strategies.”

Charlie knew they couldn't keep the secret of the hunter-­killers forever. “At some point, someone's going to realize the losses don't add up, and then they're going to start looking for answers, and someone else is going to realize it's the hunter-­killers. And that's when we lose our element of surprise.”

“But knowing it's the hunter-­killers,” Roacka argued, “and figuring out their tactics are two different things. Few beyond this room understand their strategy of engagement. But Roger's question still remains, lad: do we back the hunter-­killers off? I say no.”

“There is another factor, Your Grace,” Winston said. Alone in this small, exclusive group, Charlie had gotten everyone but Winston to drop the formal address; Winston would never yield on that point. “Lord Arthur and Mrs. Toofat report that four or five of Duchess Telka's warships are operating out of Andyne-­Borregga as privateers. The crews do not wear de Vena livery, nor do these ships fly de Vena colors, but clearly she's entered into the fray, albeit surreptitiously. I think Edwin Chevard's meeting with her yielded excellent results. And I suspect the chaos created by the hunter-­killers helps her conceal her own involvement. Should we back off, she may feel less inclined to participate.”

Charlie asked, “Is
Chaos
still running arms to Sobak and Thamaklus and their friends in Syndon?”

“Ya,” Roacka said, “and she's torpedoing shipping there as well. That, and our Syndonese allies, are making life real unpleasant for Goutain. Those arms are a good investment.”

They all looked to Charlie for the decision. He looked at Roger. “We're committed. We can't back off now.”

Charlie nodded, then looked to Pelletier. “What about defense here?”

Pelletier touched something on his console and one wall lit up with a large system map. “As you know, with each installation we have to activate it, test it, perform any needed repairs and maintenance, test fire it, calibrate its targeting, restock supplies where needed, then crew it, and in some cases provide training. That said, we now have six of the surface batteries fully active on Luna, those closest to this facility. And since their power plants are hidden beneath large, radioactive hot spots, they're undetectable unless one knows to look for them and so we're keeping them powered and combat ready.

“As to the weapons platforms, we have eight of them fully active, though at your recommendation we've throttled their power plants back to a trickle so they won't be easily visible to any ship entering the system. We can bring them up to full power in about twenty or thirty minutes.

“We've identified three surface batteries and two platforms that require too much repair to bring online quickly, so we've passed them over. We'll go back to them once we've tested all the rest.”

Pelletier looked up from his console and met their eyes one by one. “At this point, even though we're only about halfway there, we're ready to defend ourselves against anything but all-­out attack by a large force.”

“What about spies?” Roacka asked.

“We've identified a few, so we're feeding them misinformation where possible, isolating them where not. But I think it's best to assume we haven't identified them all. Our best strategy at this point is that, outside of this room, no one knows the full extent of our capability. With few exceptions, the hunter-­killer crews, shadow fleet crews, surface installations crews, and platform crews are not aware of each other. So any spy that we don't identify may get one or two pieces of the puzzle, but not all.”

“It's going to leak out,” Charlie said. “We can slow it down, but we can't stop it.” And with that thought, the main thing now was speed. At this moment, he had potent military might in the Lunan system, and a narrow window of time during which that fact would remain a secret and he'd have the element of surprise.

“So what's next?” Charlie asked.

“My job's pretty clearly defined here,” Pelletier said. “We'll keep going after the platforms and surface batteries one at a time and bring them online as quickly as possible.”

Roger added, “By the way, I noticed some discrepancies in platform twelve's schematics, so I'm going to take the team up there next, take it out of sequence. It shouldn't really affect our schedule, but I'm curious to see what's different about it.”

As the meeting broke up, Add and Ell pulled Charlie aside. Add said quietly, “We didn't want to speak of it in front of the others, but Sid'nah'sanAfan wishes you to know that Kinatha has quietly sent six warships to support opposition to the Four Tyrants.”

Charlie said, “Then we should quietly thank them.”

C
harlie's implants woke him from a sound sleep. Starfall's computer system said, “Major Pelletier requests your immediate attention, Your Grace. He says it's a matter of some urgency.”

“Connect me,” Charlie said.

“Your Grace,” Pelletier said breathlessly. “I'm in the security center. Come up here, please. Right away.”

Pelletier wasn't easily excitable. “I'll be right there.”

Charlie threw on a pair of pants, shoes, and a shirt, then sprinted up to the security center, wondering if they were under attack or something. As Charlie rushed into the room, Pelletier, seated at his command console, with Winston standing behind him, pointed at a screen in front of him and said, “Look at that.”

Charlie crossed the room, stopped behind Pelletier, and looked over his shoulder; the screen in front of him displayed an image of a large station somewhere in space. “What's that?”

“That, Your Grace, is platform twelve.”

“That's no platform.”

“No, it's not,” Pelletier said, a clear note of wonder in his voice. “It's a prime station, which, I assume, is meant to be Luna Prime.”

Charlie snagged a chair and dropped into it as Pelletier continued. “Roger spotted some unusual specifications in twelve's schematics, went up there to investigate. These are vids he took on approach.”

Pelletier touched a switch. “Roger, I've got Duke Charles with me. Are you still in the vacuum dock?”

The image shifted to that of four ­people in vac suits. One of them said in Roger's voice, “You ain't gonna believe this.”

The image switched to Roger's helmet cam, and as his head slowly panned the inside of the vacuum dock, Charlie saw two warships docked there. Roger's voice was colored with awe and disbelief as he said, “Looks like a heavy cruiser and a large destroyer. And that's just this dock. There are others that we haven't had a chance to check out yet.”

Charlie leaned forward. “What's the condition of the ships? Are they complete? Are they ser­viceable?”

“Don't know,” Roger said. “Don't know. Just got here, so haven't had a chance to do more than gawk and shit my pants.”

Charlie and Pelletier looked on as Roger and his team boarded the heavy cruiser. They floated weightless down corridors that were eerily silent and pristine. It took more than an hour, and even then they'd only completed a preliminary examination. It was enough to tell them the ship was complete, with all necessary systems including weapons and drives, though, like the platforms, they'd want to make sure the nonperishable supplies were still viable. That didn't tell them if she was ser­viceable, and they wouldn't know that until they went through a checkout procedure much like on the platforms.

But if they are. . .

The station itself was about a quarter the size of Andyne-­Borregga, its surface pocked with about thirty defensive weapons stations, and clearly meant to be the centerpiece of a system-­wide defensive network, as well as the principal transshipment point for all traffic in and out of the Lunan system. Pelletier immediately diverted three more of the platform teams to assist Roger on twelve, and it took them two days to do an inventory of the station. In total, docked on the station were four heavy cruisers, four medium cruisers, eight destroyers, and miscellaneous tenders and other support vessels. All appeared complete, though their ser­viceability was still unknown. Charlie assumed that, like the platforms and surface batteries, after twenty years of disuse, they would all require some maintenance before they could see active ser­vice. Their primary problems were time, manpower, and finances.
Especially
finances.

Cesare couldn't have anticipated the present situation, not twenty years before. Behind Charlie Winston seemed to mirror his thoughts. “As far back as I can remember we bought and sold ships, and commissioned new hulls. There was a constant turnover, but as the years progressed, I began to notice that the number of vessels in the de Maris registry didn't add up to what it should.”

Charlie turned away from the screen and looked at Winston. “But how did he get them here without anyone knowing?”

Winston continued to stare at the screen, and he seemed deep in thought. “Back then, Cesare's chief of naval operations was Admiral Tomas Jelliski, who died when you were about ten. They grew up like brothers, were very close. I must assume they worked together to accomplish this.”

“But why?” Charlie asked. “How could he have known?”

Winston finally looked away from the screen, and his eyes focused on Charlie. “I don't believe he did. He had me prepare at least a dozen contingencies, some of which included him still alive, most of which involved distribution of the de Lunis properties. As to why, when you and Arthur were quite young your father repeatedly expressed his concern about the future of our civilization. Lucius's instabilities, the growing in-­fighting among the Nine, and the deteriorating balance of power all contributed greatly to his fears. I think he just wanted an ace in the hole.”

Charlie turned back to the screen. “Let's focus on the big cruisers, see if we can get a ­couple of them up and running.”

They had enough manpower to fully staff all the weapons platforms and surface installations, but not the ships. Pelletier came up with the idea of cherry-­picking experienced spacers from among their crews, and Charlie decided to have Arthur spread the word on Andyne-­Borregga that any former experienced de Maris spacer could find work with House de Lunis. In that way, they could crew a ­couple of cruisers without understaffing the system's defenses.

Sixteen warships! Charlie closed his eyes and thought of Cesare.
Now I have the hulls, you sneaky bastard.