Victory Conditions (32 page)

“No thanks, Sera Vozan. I’m just taking the shortcut today.”

“It’s all right for you, Ser Dunbarger, but I will not have those infants from Survey coming in here, pretending to look for charts, and then sneaking down the back lift to lunch an hour early…”

“And quite right,” Rafe said. “I trust you make them look at charts until noon?”

“I certainly do,” she said. “Or send them right back to their section.”

The lift was waiting when he reached it, with Gary inside. As it moved Gary shook his head. “You kicked a very large anthill, boyo. The Secretary is indeed dead, and they’re saying it looks like poison. They want your hide stretched on a hoop.”

“I didn’t poison him,” Rafe said. “Is Emil all right? And Penny—where’s Penny?”

“Both here, both doing their jobs. You know, your sister’s really come a long way. Quite a young woman.”

Rafe looked sharply at Gary, but the man seemed sincere, no edge to his voice.

“Emil did say to tell you the Premier’s office called; he wants to talk to you at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll bet he does,” Rafe said. The lift stopped. Gary exited first, then waved Rafe out.

“That other one—Malendy?—says you pulled a weapon on him, and threatened him, and he’s saying he should never have let you in to see the Secretary.”

“I should have just killed that little bastard last night when he interrupted Penny’s birthday dinner, and called it an affair of honor,” Rafe said. “What I threatened him with was exposure of his incompetent little financial fiddles.” He came in sight of his offices; Emil was out beside the receptionist’s desk. He waved at both of them.

“Ser—”

“I know,” Rafe said. “One of those interesting days I wished for when I was a bored little boy.” He smiled at his receptionist. “I would love to give you the rest of the day off, but I’m afraid that would result in your spending some hours being grilled by officials. Instead, could I offer you the comfort of one of the guest suites?”

“The children—” she said.

“Right. They’re nine and thirteen, aren’t they? In school, then an after-school program? Here’s what we’ll do, if you agree. We’ll avoid all the media and official attention and move them and you somewhere out of reach. It’s near the end of term.”

“I—well—yes, that would be nice.”

“We’ll need your authorization to have one of our people pick them up from school. We should do that before anyone makes the connection and tries to intercept them when school’s over.”

“I’ll make the travel arrangements,” Gary said. “Quiet house, suitable for children that age, a couple of security, just in case.”

“Emil, come fill me in.” Rafe led the way into his inner office.

The light blinking on his desk was the direct connection from the Palace to ISC—but he could not answer that until he knew how close to the cliff edge he stood.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Moray System

Ky Vatta’s message to her Aunt Grace was as terse as Grace’s had been, and even more cryptic. “Fruitcake contains one K, no filler. Only one fruitcake, positively no S in fruitcake. S does not belong in fruitcake.” From the generations-back family code stored in her father’s implant—surely Grace would know that one—she added “Tik harvest less than projected by fifteen percent, propagation of seedlings strongly discouraged.” Translated: “Do not propagate this message.” How could she tell Grace that Pitt was suspect. That maybe MacRobert was suspect? “Tik pitts—” A simple misspelling that she hoped would pass for a mistake to anyone else. “—may be infested with fungal disease from the source. Isolate any storage bins used by suspected lots. Source may be unreliable.” Did she really think MacRobert was unreliable? He had sent her the letter of marque and set up the delivery of those mines disguised as cleaning materials. If he had been the traitor who opened Slotter Key to the enemy, would he have done that? Would he be Grace’s—whatever he was to her? She could not believe it. She did not want to believe it, rather, any more than she wanted to believe Pitt was a traitor.

What she wanted to ask Grace was where Grace had heard of the battle and her supposed death. What she wanted to tell Grace was that Turek probably still had an agent or two on Slotter Key. But Grace would not thank her for that information. Grace would give her that Aunt Grace look, and would understand being kept out of the loop.

Pettygrew called in. “Pitt told the truth,” he said. “She requested use of the ansible right after you came aboard. My comtech assumed that it was a message you had asked her to send, so he let her have the board. It was another hour before you ordered the shutdown. You asked me if anyone had communicated outsystem, and I asked my comtech, but she didn’t tell me about Pitt, because she thought you already knew. A stupid mistake on my part; I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Ky said. “I’m relieved that Pitt wasn’t lying about that; it would cast doubt on Mackensee’s agenda.” Now what could she do about Pitt? The transmission might have been innocent in intent. The log showed that the only transmission had been to Slotter Key. But why hadn’t Grace told Ky that MacRobert and Pitt were communicating—if she knew.

Argelos reported that Stella had accepted his and Ransome’s financial data without asking for a direct contact with Ky. “She said she supposed you were busy, and she was sorry to bother you but the auditors were coming.”

Auditors. Of course the survival of Vatta Transport was important, but why couldn’t Stella understand that Ky had more important things on her mind?

Slotter Key

Grace Vatta looked at the printout she’d been given. Straight data, no voice, no visual. It had come from a shipboard ansible, one of two mounted on Ky’s ship, but had it come from Ky? Could the enemy have figured out how to intercept such messages and then use the originating code on a different unit? And “fruitcake.” Too many people knew about the fruitcakes now. As long as she’d been seen as the dotty old lady who handed out inedible fruitcakes, fruitcakes as code were safe, but now some people—some of Ky’s crew, for instance—knew that the fruitcakes might have more than fruit and nuts in them.

Fruitcake contains one K. That might be Ky. Or something else. No S. Not Stella. But if the message was from Ky, why would she say Stella wasn’t with her? Of course Stella wasn’t with her. Ky knew that Grace knew Stella was on Cascadia. And the last part, the old outdated Vatta code for “deep secret, do not share.”

“What’s that?” MacRobert asked as he appeared with her afternoon tea.

“Either confirmation from Ky that she’s alive, or a clever fake,” Grace said. “It’s almost—I can imagine her doing something like this, but—does she think communication through her onboard ansible is compromised? And what else is she trying to tell me?”

MacRobert looked at the printout. “Ah. Don’t tell Stella. Definitely from Ky, and—oh, my.”

Grace looked up at him. “What? You understand this nonsense about tik seeds?”

MacRobert looked amused. “Yes. At least, I think I do. Ky’s found out that I’ve been in contact with the Mackensee liaison, Master Sergeant Pitt. And she’s trying to warn you. She’s wondering if I’m reliable.”

“You!” Grace shook her head. “Of course you’re reliable; what was she thinking?”

“Girl’s learning,” MacRobert said. The corner of his mouth twitched. “What would you think if I hadn’t told you about Pitt?”

Grace shrugged. “All right. I see what you mean. But she knows you—”

“She knew me years ago, when she was younger and naïve,” MacRobert said. “She’s been through a lot. She’s not the same Ky, Grace.”

“I know that,” Grace said. “That’s why I wanted to talk to her on Cascadia.”

“You’re still miffed about that, aren’t you?” MacRobert rubbed her shoulders. “You know, if you’d been Ky, you wouldn’t have waited, either. She had to go; she heard trouble coming…”

“But—”

“She’s a good—I can’t call her a kid anymore—commander, I’d have to say now. Remarkable, in fact.”

Grace glowered at him. “You’re glowing.”

“I’m not. Well…maybe. Look at it like this: I’m the closest thing she has now to a father.”

“If my arm weren’t the size of a child’s I’d hit you with it.”

“All right. I won’t push it. But I am proud of her. It was obvious from the first term that she’d be right at the top—and she was, and not just academically. She had the right kind of mind. We get brilliant cadets who don’t, and we try to shunt them into positions where their brilliance can be used without destroying them or their mates. I had high hopes for her as a commander…and she’s fulfilled those hopes, though not in our Spaceforce.”

“You kicked her out of your Spaceforce,” Grace said.

“Not me. I had nothing to do with that decision and you know it. And anyway, it’s your Spaceforce now. You know the political pressures on it.”

“Fewer,” Grace said. “But yes.”

“And if she hadn’t resigned, if she’d been the most junior officer in a cruiser in our home fleet…which is where the good ones are assigned…she wouldn’t have been available to do what she’s done. Which may very well be to save us all.”

“It doesn’t hurt that she doesn’t fully trust you now?”

“Hurt? No. It would bother me if
you
didn’t.”

“Very well then. I will inform the President that she is alive, and ready to take command of Slotter Key forces when they arrive.”

“We still have to figure out where the rumor came from,” MacRobert said.

“Tonight?”

“No…I suppose it can wait until morning.”

“Good…because my therapists are annoyed with me about the arm…horizontal exercises, they prescribe. They insist I must do them.”

“Horizontal exercises…I think we can manage that.”

Moray System, Aboard Vanguard II

Ky called Pitt into her office. As always, Pitt looked perfectly professional as she came to attention in front of Ky’s desk.

“Ma’am.”

“The log bears out your story, Master Sergeant. But I can’t say I’m happy about the fact that you were in contact with Slotter Key behind my back for…years, it must be.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that. If the admiral will permit—”

“Go ahead,” Ky said. She was well aware that Pitt was using formality to maneuver her.

“Until Major Douglas died, the admiral will understand that there was no conflict of interest: I was, as I am, a member of Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation, and my loyalty belonged to that organization.” Pitt paused, head slightly tilted, and Ky nodded her understanding. “So,” Pitt went on, “it would have been inappropriate for me to discuss with you any of my contacts, anywhere.”

Ky thought that over. She had never been drawn to the shady side of military work; intel was something she wanted, but did not want to obtain herself. “I see,” she said, her tone neutral.

“If the admiral thought the contact was inappropriate, it was a matter between the Slotter Key government and my high command.”

“But I didn’t know,” Ky said.

“No, ma’am. I understand that, but…” Pitt sighed. “Ma’am, it’s been a very odd situation between you and me from the start, like I’ve said before. We’re not in the same chain of command. We’re not enemies. We’re allies of a sort, but normally you would interact only with officers of your own and related ranks. Yet—” The faintest color came to her cheeks. “You could, in age, be one of my children.”

Ky just managed not to blurt out
You have children?
in a tone that would have been insulting.

“But you aren’t, and you outrank me, anyway. I do not know exactly what Major Douglas’ orders were, as Mac’s liaison. Of course I never saw them, and my orders were to assist him as required. But from what he did say, I gathered that he was to assist you, without giving up any of Mac’s secrets. Though we were not, then, officially in alliance with you—and I don’t yet know the terms of our alliance, because they were in the files that were destroyed with
Vanguard
—I considered it my duty to be of assistance as well. Especially after he died. I did overstep my authority, ma’am, both by contacting Master Sergeant MacRobert and by urging you into treatment, but…I did so thinking it was in the best interests of my command.”

“What you aren’t saying,” Ky said, “but I’m hearing, is that I can’t really expect you to be loyal to me, and neither is, or was, MacRobert.”

Pitt looked thoughtful, not worried. “It’s not exactly that, ma’am. As I understand my duties, my loyalty to Mackensee—which is of course primary—requires that I assist you, and your endeavors here, in any way I can. That is what I have tried to do. As a matter of fact, not that it should make any difference, I happen to like and respect you personally. But if you were a sothead idiot, I would still have the same duty to assist you. And though I like and respect you personally, I cannot allow that to affect my duty.”

“And your understanding of MacRobert?”

“He has his duty, to Slotter Key, as I have mine to Mackensee,” Pitt said. “He will do what he thinks is best for Slotter Key, despite what he feels for you…though, like me, he respects your ability and character.”

“Do you know if he has told Grace Vatta about his contact with you?”

“Oh, yes,” Pitt said. “He told me that he told her, and that she had been amused. She is quite a woman, he says.”

“She is indeed,” Ky said. “And she also doesn’t give much away. But my question now is, how much can I trust you?”

Pitt frowned. “Ma’am, I will not lie to you. I will not divulge anything I think might be harmful to Mackensee, now or in the future, without specific authorization from my own command structure. When we can, I would like you to contact them, in my presence, and I need clarification of my orders. However, I know from Major Douglas, and the articles of alliance you showed me, that my orders will, at the least, be to assist you—and that means being straight with you. If you ask my advice, it will be the best I can give—though I’m only a master sergeant.”

Ky snorted, humor having overtaken indignation. “You are not ‘only a master sergeant,’ and if you’re not going to lie to me, let’s start there.” Pitt gave a short nod but said nothing. “Well, then. I suppose my lesson learned is that all intelligence personnel are tricky at best. Including MacRobert and my very unsainted Aunt Grace. You have my permission to continue your contact with MacRobert—since I suspect you’d find a way to do it anyway—but please keep in mind the advantages to secrecy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re no longer confined to quarters; you’ve already been all over the ship, so there’s no reason to cause us both inconvenience that way. I’ll want you at the staff conference at 1330 hours. If we can arrange a secure link to Mackensee before that, I’ll contact you so that you can speak to your command.”

The Mackensee officer who appeared on the screen introduced herself as Colonel Watkins. Pitt saluted, assumed parade rest, and gave a succinct report of events since her last official report, without mentioning that Ky was alive.