Элизабет Мун - Into the Fire

On the tenth day, Rafe contacted her with new information. “Rodney’s been following the shipping news at all major ports. A Quindlan freighter, Xonsulat, that had just loaded cargo at Makkavo dumped it back on the dock, then filed a new route to a Quindlan-owned facility—a private port, basically. No idea what they took on, but the ship then filed for Green Harbor—south coast here—and ultimately Port Major. We have it on satellite; it’ll be eight days to Green Harbor, minimum. Six to eight days more to Port Major, depending on how long they’re at Green Harbor. Xonsulor also diverted, and is due at Sunhome Bay on Cape Harmon in ten days.”

Ky tried to remember where Green Harbor and Sunhome Bay were, but Rafe went on talking. “Both those ports could be easily reached by troops from anywhere on the south coast. Kvannis could have started people moving in small groups—”

“Ship capacity?”

“We’re trying to find out, but I haven’t a clue how to convert gross tonnage and dimensions into passenger capacity.”

“Neither do I, but I know who does, roughly. Get Rodney to ask someone in Vatta’s sea freight division—”

“Got it. I’d have thought Kvannis would just use trucks, or fly them in—”

“It’s a possibility he’ll use all three. Ships can carry heavy equipment less obviously than trucks or trains.”

“So we don’t quit looking for more transports—”

“No. Any transport originating from any military facility—those can be cross-checked with orders from Joint Services Command HQ.”

Ky passed this information to General Molosay. Twelve to fourteen more days to prepare before the ships arrived—at least. Already the long park in the government complex had been dug up and reshaped by the combat engineer units, using their massive machines to create trenches, dugouts, and what the Port Major media insisted was a huge unnecessary mess. On the excuse that some of the necessary drills would involve live ammunition, government buildings across the streets that ringed the complex were told to evacuate rooms facing those streets, and the windows were covered with shields.

As the days passed, tension in the city oscillated between worry that a real attack might come, and annoyance that since nothing had happened, citizens endured traffic delays and detours for no reason. Ky kept the Academy running, insisting on classes being taught even if the schedule changed. Some faculty seemed to enjoy the challenge; others grumbled if asked to move a class a half hour, let alone from day to night. The second-year class, somewhat to Ky’s surprise, improved faster.

And day by day, the two Quindlan ships came nearer and nearer to Port Major. Each had spent two days in its intermediate port, and now they were in tandem, obviously intending to reach Port Major on the same day.

“I think it’s because they see the other classes also having hardships now,” Major Hemins told her one afternoon when she had stopped by to check on the second-years’ progress. “Also, the heavier schedule means their extra work isn’t punishment. The overall attitude has changed a lot since you chewed them out. Definitely class cohesion. I’m quite pleased with them now.”

“Good,” Ky said. “Because I have an assignment for them that they must not know yet, but you can.”

“Commandant?”

“The ships we think are bringing insurgent troops to Port Major are only four or five days away now, but this still remains a secret. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Commandant.”

“All right. Tonight, the President and her staff will leave the Palace and move to temporary quarters. Tomorrow, one-third of the legislature and their staffs will evacuate Government House, followed by another drill that explains the evacuation. Critical data have already been shifted to other servers; all the servers in the Palace and Government House will be wiped. The two senior classes, as in the plan, will engage the invasion force we expect, but the second class will be assigned to assist the honor guard in protection of the persons of the President, her second, her staff, and those seniors in the legislature whose positions might draw enough attention to attack their homes. I have looked at your assessments carefully; by tonight, I want your advice on choosing specific personnel for each assignment.” She handed him a data cube.

“You’re—you’re moving the President? Like Major Seagle said?”

“Yes, but it was important not to let potential traitors in the faculty know. You must not discuss it with anyone.”

Ky had just settled back in the chair at her desk when her skullphone pinged. Grace.

“Ky, I know you’re busy, but I wanted to warn you about what’s going on in the legislature.”

“The legislature?” The only thing she knew about the legislature was that they refused to leave the chambers “until the bombs are falling,” as one of them put it.

“It affects you slightly, but mostly me, for being Rector. The President and Council are planning to throw the situation with the Miksland personnel to the standing committee on military affairs. Did you know your survivors came from every continent but Miksland?”

“Yes,” Ky said.

“Well, it’s a mess. Continental legislatures are furious about what happened, as well they might be, but some of them are also divided. My neck is on the block, as far as some are concerned, and I can’t blame them.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Ky said.

“I should have known. I should never have taken this post. That’s tearing them apart, Ky.”

“It’s not all that’s coming apart. Nothing you did would spark something this big. Hiding the truth about Miksland began long before you were born.” Ky spoke harshly; Grace needed to get over her guilt trip and start thinking clearly about the present mess.

“You’re right about that,” Grace said. Ky could hear her sigh. “Right now what matters is spiking this incipient civil war, because that’s not going to help anyone, whoever wins it.”

“Good. Start with that. Admit that you didn’t know, it was a mistake and can be dealt with later, but right now—we’ve got the murders and the mistreatment of military personnel to cope with, and the conspiracy behind them. Start fast and keep going. Don’t let them talk over you.”

“You sound like me,” Grace said. Her voice was stronger now.

“No, you sound like you. They can cut you in pieces and fry you later, but right now they need to save the government and the security of the whole planet. Put that way, they’ll fall in line.”

“Unless they’re involved,” Grace said.

“And then you’ll know,” Ky said. “And so will everyone else.” She felt peculiar, giving advice to Grace, who had given so much advice to all the Vatta children.

“All right. I’ll do my best.”

“Do you want me to be there? As Commandant?”

“No, I don’t think so. The Commandant has always stayed away from the Grand Council unless invited. If you’re invited, though, I’d say come.”

Grace Vatta sat staring at the wall for a moment, thinking about Ky’s advice. Why hadn’t she thought of that herself? A tap on the door interrupted her.

“Rector, you have a visitor—in uniform—Commander Basil Orniakos.”

Grace just managed not to gasp. Orniakos, Region VII AirDefense, with whom she’d had that disastrous argument when the shuttle went down. Orniakos… she could not remember all the things she’d found out about him… why was he here? He was stationed on the far side of the planet.

“I’ll see him,” she said. She left the papers she’d been studying on top of the desk, and made sure her personal weapon was in reach.