Charles Gannon - Raising Caine

Furthermore, none of the bridge crew appeared to be over thirty-five, forty at the outside, and none of them were women.

Another surprise was the absence of robots. Although consumer and industrial ’bots were rare on Terran ships, most military hulls had a sizeable complement of zero-gee floaters: ROVs that fetched, maintained systems, and carried gear about the ship. No ’bots of any kind, or their ubiquitous charging stations and ready racks, were in evidence on Ferocious Monolith .

From what Caine could tell, the Ktoran computers had sophisticated interfaces, but there was a great deal of hard-wire control redundancy. Old-style keyboards, trackballs, and intercom handsets were tucked away in emergency access slots. Clearly, the Ktor preferred hard-wired systems. And come to think of it—

Caine shifted his attention back to the crew, focusing on the officers this time. Sure enough, none of them had collarcoms or their analogs. Instead, they all wore some kind of multipurpose device clipped on their belt, equipped with a spooled cable. But almost no one was using them. In the time he’d been on the bridge, Riordan had seen two autarchons communicating with another part of the ship, and both times, they used one of the numerous — and seemingly anachronistic — hardwired handsets.

While studying the belts of the officers, Riordan also discovered that everyone over the rank of autarchon was armed. All had daggers of some sort, and almost as many had handguns, several of which looked outlandish. But the weapons were not standardized; the greater the apparent importance of any given individual — which Caine inferred to be roughly proportional to their accumulation of medals, insignias, and other official gewgaws — the more profoundly eclectic their gear and attire appeared to be. In fact, the most senior of the bridge crew were all wearing different uniforms. The only common adornment was a small, square, gray shoulder patch.

Peripherally, Caine saw Olsirkos lean in slightly closer. The Ktor muttered, “I request that you return our Srin with all possible speed.”

Caine did not hurry to bring his eyes around to meet with the Ktor’s. “We are pleased to comply. I will contact the pinnace and have Tlerek Srin Shethkador transferred to your custody.”

“Do so.”

Riordan tapped a three-tone code into his collarcom. The security detachment would commence unloading the Srin immediately upon receiving it. Making sure that O’Garran was close behind him, he made briskly for the exit.

Riordan hadn’t finished strapping back into his seat aboard the armored pinnace when Downing sealed the hatch to the bridge, snapped off the intercom, activated a white noise generator, and turned toward him urgently. Caine raised his hands: “Richard, calm down. I didn’t learn that much about the Ktor. I’m sure the debrief—”

“Sod the debrief,” Downing said flatly. “It will happen when and if it happens. We’ve got more pressing matters. We just got a communiqué from the Slaasriithi. They want to go now .”

“Go where? Home? Well, why’s that a problem? They’re not needed for the negotiations with the Arat Kur.”

“No, Caine. They want to carry human envoys, you and a few others, to their homeworld. And they want to leave in the next twelve hours.”

“Richard, that’s — that’s nuts. They can’t just expect us to—”

“They can and they do expect us to accede to their — well, not demand, but very strongly worded exhortation. The arrival of the Ktor seems to worry them. Profoundly. When I pressed them for a slight extension, just a day or two to prepare, they rejected that idea. And how often have you seen the Slaasriithi reject an idea outright?”

“Never.”

“Not me, either. Maybe Alnduul will be able to shed a little more light on the matter: I’ve put in a call to him. But some of the phrasing in the Slaasriithi message—‘compromised security’ and ‘possible infiltration’—leads me to wonder if they already know that the Ktor are actually humans.”

Caine saw it. “Damn, of course. If they know that, then they’ll realize that the Ktor infiltrated corporations and government agencies on Earth. And each of those infiltrators probably recruited more than a hundred human collaborators. So the longer we stay here, with a Ktor spymaster-assassin now repatriated to one of his own ships, the better the chance they have to activate some sleeper cells that might be in the fleet.”

“Exactly. They are probably conjecturing what we already know: that the Ktor can create and control suicidal saboteurs, penetrate many of our data and intelligence networks, and exchange information between their operations cells faster than should be physically possible. Given a few days, they could pull some strings, change some files, and seed any diplomatic team we assemble with one or more of their own operatives. Which, depending upon how and where those operatives struck, could leave the Slaasriithi uncertain of how safe it is to deal with us at all.”

The intercom status panel flashed red. Downing jabbed the virtual button. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Downing, but I have Senior Mentor Alnduul on secure three.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Patch him through.”

The compartment’s comm screen brightened, revealing the Dornaani’s back-sloping teardrop head and large eyes. Underneath his single nostril, his lamprey mouth was clenched tightly before he began to shape human words. “I have responded as soon as I was able, Richard Downing. I have already been apprised of the situation. The Slaasriithi ambassador, Yiithrii’ah’aash, contacted us as soon as Ferocious Monolith revealed its identity. They were unaware that any Ktoran ships were expected in the area, and were alarmed to learn that this one arrived so early. Frankly, I cannot fault the Slaasriithi’s reaction. But I also suspect they were more sanguine about inviting a human delegation after meeting with you, Caine Riordan.”

“That sounds promising,” Downing observed.

“I agree. The Slaasriithi make decisions and act upon them at a much more leisurely pace than the other races of the Accord. For them to tender an invitation regardless of the current pressures says much about the impression Commander Riordan has made upon their leaders. But their acceleration of this diplomatic mission also signifies they fear the Ktor could undermine it. If you refuse to leave promptly, I believe they will withdraw their invitation. They no doubt wish to ensure that envoys from your species would be drawn from a pool of persons unlikely to have been subject to Ktoran influence.”

Caine leaned toward the Dornaani’s image. “That’s an interesting speculation, Alnduul. I don’t see how you could arrive at it unless you also presumed that the Slaasriithi have a strong suspicion — or know —that the Ktor are another branch of humanity and that therefore they could have infiltrated us earlier.”

Alnduul’s nictating eyelids cycled even more slowly this time. “I cannot comment on your conjecture, Caine Riordan. But the fundamental logic is inarguable.”

Huh. Typical Dornaani. They manage to tell you you’re right without coming straight out and telling you that you’re right . “Alnduul, am I correct in assuming that you believe it would be in our best interests to comply with the Slaasriithi request?” Which is to say, go completely unprepared?

One of Alnduul’s hands rose into view: his long fingers trailed like streamers in a sad, slow wind. “As a Custodian, I am unable to share my personal counsel on this matter. However, I have approached the on-site representative of the Dornaani Collective with a request that my ship, the Olsloov , be allowed to provide you with transport on your journey.” The end of his statement was abrupt, clipped. Among Dornaani, that was the equivalent of a pregnant pause.