Yoon Lee - Ninefox Gambit

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Cheris said. “I’m not feeding the fucking heretics one of my officers.”

“Cheris, listen to me. We have to inject those infiltrators. We can’t shoot our way down there. The Fortress has too many guns, and I’m good, but not that good. If you can’t go through a problem, you have to go around it. The heretics haven’t fired because they’re uncertain, but they’re not stupid enough to let us land troops unless I convince them that I’m not, in fact, a Kel general with an unusual taste for dirty tactics. I have to convince them that I’m really Garach Jedao and that I offer them an advantage.”

“I’m still not –”

He kept talking. “The heretics are teetering right now because I took down the shields, yet there’s no way I could charm or bludgeon my way into a Kel swarm after escaping, let alone a swarm with two cindermoths. We’re going to leave the story to their imagination, because they’re right. I couldn’t do it. But they need to think I did. That’s why we have to send a commander to suggest the story to them. It’s something the Kel would never do, but I might. The Kel don’t fight like that.”

“Damn straight,” Cheris said. “Because we’re not doing it.”

“Very well then, fledge.” Jedao’s tone was formal, and a hot flush crept up the sides of Cheris’s neck. “What is your proposed alternative?”

That brought her up short. She didn’t have one. “Pull back and blow down the defenses with all the bombs we have,” she said.

“I’m happy to evaluate an alternative plan,” Jedao said, correctly ignoring what she had just said in desperation, “but there has to be something to evaluate.”

Cheris had an overwhelming desire to punch him. “Fine,” she said. “If you’re so fucking determined to send someone, send me.”

“Unacceptable,” Jedao said. “Now you’re reacting, not thinking, and when it comes to strategy, thought must trump reaction. If any records exist of you in the Fortress, they’ll have you down as an infantry captain. You’re too insignificant to be of any use as a hostage. At the same time, as my anchor and the current general, you’re too important. I can’t help the swarm if you’re drugged in a cell somewhere. Besides, your shadow and reflection will tell them what’s going on.”

“I can’t ask this of my officers!”

“Sir,” Nerevor said in a dead even voice. She had come out of her chair and was facing Cheris, eyes narrowed.

Cheris realized that she had been shouting.

Everyone had heard her half of the argument.

“Sir,” Nerevor said, more insistently. “What’s the dispute?”

Nerevor shouldn’t have asked, but it was entirely like her to do so. Besides, it was too late to pretend the dispute hadn’t taken place. Cheris said, “General Jedao believes that we need to send the heretics a hostage to persuade them not to fire on the hoppers. The hostage would have to be a high officer to be convincing.”

“Not something any Kel general would do, but something a crazy vengeful Shuos would do, am I right?” Nerevor said, nostrils flaring. “Because we can’t hide the fact that these are Kel moths, so we have to pretend that we were overwhelmed or blackmailed.” She didn’t sound like she thought that was far from the truth. The rest of the command center was very still.

“Yes,” Cheris said.

Nerevor lifted her chin. “Then I’ll go, sir. You won’t do better than a cindermoth commander.”

With winter clarity, Cheris realized she had been manipulated into losing her temper so this conversation would take place. “Hawkfucking prick,” she said to Jedao, remembering the subvocals this time. She studied Nerevor, resisting the urge to glare at the shadow.

Jedao didn’t deny the charge. “She’ll need to be wiped,” he said. “Get Medical to inject her with full-strength formation instinct and revert her to fledge-null. Fastest way to make sure they don’t get intelligence out of her.”

“You’d have to be wiped, Commander,” Cheris said. “Are you sure –”

“You’re wasting everyone’s time,” Jedao said.

“I understand that, sir,” Nerevor said steadfastly. “I am Kel. I will serve, even if this isn’t the service I anticipated when I was assigned to your swarm.”

“Report to Medical,” Cheris said.

“Sir,” Nerevor said, saluting sharply, then turning on her heel.

Cheris put the orders in to Medical. Her hands shook, and she felt coldly knotted inside. Going into a firefight would have been better than this pallid safety. Then she nodded at Nerevor’s executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel Hazan, who had been listening intently, mouth pursed. “You’re acting commander,” she said.

Hazan saluted her sharply, seemingly calm. But a tremor passed through the crew.

“Communications,” Cheris said, “send this message to the Fortress.” She passed it over.

“Hoppers still on standby, sir,” Navigation said, without quite looking at her.

“They’ll hold until Commander Nerevor is ready,” Cheris said. “Tactical One and Two, prepare covering fire but await my command. Scan, what is the Fortress’s current status?”

Scan said, “There’s a lot of –”

“Sir!” Communications said. “Outgoing message from the Anemone Ward, in the clear and in all directions.”

Cheris said to Scan, “You first, but make it fast.”

“There’s a fight by the communications post,” Scan said. “Not definitive, but signatures are consistent with Kel small arms and possibly civilian weapons. No major structural damage to the post. Physical breaches sealed with metalfoam. Toxics in the spectral lines indicate the explosives were class four, but I’m not seeing more of those.”

“They want it intact, too,” Jedao said. “Hardly surprising.”

“Inform Colonel Ragath and the infiltrators,” Cheris said. It was vague, but something was better than nothing. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the colors change around her, red to brighter red, red to fox-yellow. “Communications, give us the message.”

Thanks to the exchanges between Jedao and the heretics’ leader, Cheris had expected plain text. The video took her by surprise: something was wrong with the hologram, and even interpolation had left tracks of snow and cinders in the colors.

“Andan Nidario to Kel Command.” The man had a warm, rich voice, but the entire right side of his face was a mass of bruises and burns. The act of speech must have been painful. “Hell, to anyone who’s listening.” He canted his head to listen to someone off-camera. “Shuos Jedao is loose and has battered down the Fortress’s shields. Send someone to deal with him, will you? I mean, he might be on our side, but he’s opened negotiations with the heretics, so I find myself unoptimistic. I’m appending our observations, but we’re not going to be able to hold the communications post for long.”

More commentary from the side, then: “Andan Lia would like to add that we don’t have confirmation that it’s Jedao. Frankly, he blew down the shields in hours, that’s enough evidence for me.

“When you get here, shoot that tin general Znev Stoghan first. He’s been with the heretics since the beginning.” The rattle of gunfire. “Oh hells, somebody cover the door, will you? Excuse me, I’d better pick up a gun and make myself useful before the painkillers wear off. Just do something with the information, that’s all I ask. Nidario out.”

“Dump the whole thing to Captain Ko,” Cheris said.

Hazan said, all black humor, “I’m glad we’re not responsible for spin control, sir. The Andan are usually more discreet, but I suppose he was desperate.” He showed no sign of discomfort at being in Nerevor’s chair: the right approach, even if it nettled her.