Yoon Lee - Ninefox Gambit

“But the third point is possible good news, sir.” Ko’s usual implacability was replaced by a certain restrained triumph. “Properly, this should be reported by Captain Damiod, but he, ah, felt he was close to a breakthrough and asked me to do so on his behalf.”

Cheris suppressed a smile. She could interpret Nirai for “I’m busy calculating, don’t waste my time with people” as well as anyone else. “Go on,” she said.

“Captain Damiod thinks there’s a potential exploit in the way they’re encrypting their messages.” Before Cheris could ask, Ko held up a hand. “The work is preliminary and may not bear fruit. But essentially, someone screwed up. 67 Snake’s seed parameters are driven by a combination of user input – the irregular time between keystrokes – and a synchronizer set to work with a high calendar clock. When the Fortress recalibrated its time servers to conform with the heretical calendar, they forgot to rewrite the synchronizer to work with the new setup.”

“I’m not a cryptosystems specialist,” Cheris said, “but I’m guessing this isn’t a fast crack.”

“No, sir.”

“As time permits,” Cheris said, “I would like you to continue work on a dummy cryptosystem with the parameters I sent you.” Something that looked formidable but could be cracked within a reasonable period of time by a diligent attacker. “We may need it in the near future.”

“Of course, sir.” That was all.

“Sir, do you have a response for Inaiga Zai?” It was Commander Hazan, who had been replaying the message with the sound off so he could scrutinize Zai’s expressions. Zai had good control of her face and hands.

“Unfortunately, there’s not a lot you can offer Zai,” Jedao said. “The heretics know the Vidona are coming for them, and even if you were authorized to make promises, they wouldn’t believe you. Their only choice is to fight.”

“Some indication from Kel Command would be useful right now,” Cheris said aloud. “Communications, top priority message to be relayed to Kel Command.”

“Are you certain, sir?” Hazan asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but it was a legitimate question. “We’ve heard nothing back from Kel Command,” she said, although she had reported regularly. “With this deadline, word might not reach them in time. If we send a relay message with the right tags, there’s a chance some local general will listen in and respond. Do you wish to log an objection, Commander?”

Nerevor would have, but Nerevor was gone. Cheris suspected that Hazan would be satisfied with the offer.

She was right. “That’s not necessary, sir,” Hazan said. “I concede your logic.”

Cheris updated Kel Command on the situation, asked for further details on Inaiga Zai, and requested the status of the nearby borders. “Does that cover everything?” she asked Jedao subvocally.

“The data dump ought to take care of any lingering questions,” he said. “Might as well send it on its way.”

Communications looked at her anxiously, but did as told.

The Fortress quieted. Every so often a Shuos reported in, and even more rarely Colonel Ragath contacted the command moth, but the situation had settled into a toothy status quo. Every so often Cheris checked the plot showing Kel positions, where the heretics were standing out of the way, and the corrosion gradient’s extent.

After a while, Cheris excused herself from the command center. Three servitors escorted her, unbidden. Two were deltaforms, differentiated by yellow and purple lights, and one was a snakeform. They accompanied her into her quarters. The rooms that had seemed so oversized before scarcely registered as worthy of notice. She stopped before the ashhawk emblem, trying to find some trace of herself in the fierce raptor’s beak, the black wings, the outstretched talons. Sheathed Wings: that was all she was.

The snakeform asked if Cheris was hungry. She demurred. She could tell Jedao disapproved, even if he wasn’t saying anything. “It must be convenient to run on power cores,” she said.

The snakeform made an equivocal noise. Clearly it agreed with Jedao.

“They’re very solicitous of you,” Jedao said.

“They like company,” Cheris said subvocally. “I should think you’d understand that.”

“True.”

The response to her message came in the middle of a drama episode about, as far as she or the servitors could tell, five Kel, an Andan duelist’s telescoping hairpins, and a dinner party gone horribly wrong. The purple deltaform paused the episode for her.

“Communications, sir,” the lieutenant’s voice said from the terminal. “It’s not Kel Command –”

So much for that.

“– but there’s a signature match for Brigadier General Kel Marish, bannering the Higher Higher Highest . The transmission request has urgent priority, for your eyes only.”

The servitors were already clearing out.

Kel Marish of the Eyespike emblem. She had once shouted down a court-martial charging her with overly creative interpretation of orders against the Haussen heretics, and won. Cheris was remembering that her luck this entire campaign was bad.

“Send it through,” Cheris said. Of all the generals to reach.

Kel Marish wore her uniform with a casual air, even though no single crease was out of place. She had the kind of face you’d expect a card shark to develop among challenging opponents, all ascetic angles and unreadable eyes in a blunt dark face. “Brevet General Kel Cheris,” she said, not insultingly but formally. “If Kel Command hasn’t seen fit to share this information with you, I oughtn’t either, but I feel you can’t adequately discharge your duty otherwise.”

“General Marish,” Cheris said, “I’m listening. Is it true that we have an enemy swarm incoming?”

“Oh, it’s not just incoming,” Marish said. Her sneer wasn’t directed at Cheris. “We have a full-scale Hafn invasion with messy calendrical business headed toward the Fortress of Spinshot Coins. General Cherkad has been given charge of the campaign, and I’ve been pulled off sentry to assist near the Jeweled Systems.”

“The Hafn have been quiescent for decades,” Cheris said. “Wasn’t there an Andan cultural exchange just two years ago?”

“The fact that the Hafn got along with the Andan should have tipped us off. Everyone thinks of the Shuos as the sneaky snailfuckers, but the Andan are so damn affable and charming and fun to be around up to the point where they stab you in the kidneys.

“Anyway, General Cheris, you should have been informed ages ago. The fact that Kel Command chose to keep you in the dark says they’re afraid you’ll turn coat. Word is there’s a Shuos in one of the subcommand composites. I shouldn’t wonder if that’s fouling up their judgment.”

“Hexarch Mikodez,” Jedao said, very softly.

“What do you expect me to do with this information?” Cheris asked, swallowing a “sir.”

“Terrible, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to talk to you, and with your brevet you outrank me. If you ask my advice , I’d say take the Fortress of Scattered Needles as fast as you can. The calendrical fingerprints will affect us in the contested sector, and the Hafn will want the nexus for themselves. If we fail, General, blow the thing to atoms. Deny it to the Hafn. – Can I have a word with General Jedao? Is he in there somewhere?”

Of course. Marish couldn’t currently see Cheris’s shadow. The angle was wrong, and people outside her swarm didn’t know how anchoring worked. Changing the lights only took a moment. Marish’s eyes flickered as she took the ninefox shadow in.

“I speak for General Shuos Jedao,” Cheris said, “and he can hear you fine.”