David Weber - Shadow of Freedom

Mackenzie looked less than delighted, but Indiana nodded.

“He’s got a point, M—Magpie. He’s right about how hard it would be to find any kind of legitimate excuse for an independent freighter to drop in out here, anyway.” He grimaced. “That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? The fact that there’s nothing to attract anyone to do business with us?”

“Yes,” she admitted after a moment. Her expression firmed. “Yes, it is.”

“There’re going to be some other changes, as well,” Firebrand went on. “For one thing, the situation with the Sollies is heating up from our side, as well. To be honest, the distraction quotient you and the other people we’ve been talking to represent may be needed more badly—and sooner—than we’d been thinking.”

“I see,” Indiana said slowly while his thoughts raced.

Part of him was delighted by the prospect of accelerating the schedule. Another part of him was unhappily aware of how speeding things up might lead to mistakes, the kind of slip-ups that got people jailed…or killed. And although he’d never had any illusions about the philanthropic selflessness of his allies, Firebrand’s announcement had reminded him that he and the Seraphim Independence Movement were just that as far as Manticore was concerned: a distraction for their main enemy.

Well, it’s not like it was any kind of a surprise , he reminded himself. And it always comes down to self interest in the end, doesn’t it? I don’t doubt the Manties wish us well. Everything I’ve ever heard about them suggests they wouldn’t much care for what OFS has done to us here in Seraphim. But the real reason they made contact with us in the first place is that they’re up against the Solarian League. Against someone that big you need every distraction you can get, and it’d be unrealistic as hell to pretend that isn’t what Firebrand’s here to arrange .

I guess we’re just going to have to hope they don’t decide they’re in such deep shit that—however regretfully—they end up figuring they’ve got no choice but to use us as an expendable distraction .

“I know what you’re worrying about,” Firebrand said shrewdly. “Don’t blame you, either. But look at it this way, Talisman. Sooner or later the fact that we’ve been helping you—and quite a few other star systems, I might add—is going to leak, no matter how hard we try to keep it a secret. For that matter,” he shrugged, “there’s not going to be a whole lot of reason to try to keep it secret, once it’s a done deal. And when that happens, we’re not going to be able to afford a reputation as someone who uses, abuses, and betrays allies. That’s exactly what Frontier Security’s been doing for centuries, and the whole point of our support for you and the others is at least partly to prove we’re not Frontier Security. What I’m saying is that we’re not in such a deep crack that it’s going to make sense to us to throw you and the others to the hexapumas, because if we get a reputation for doing that kind of thing, no one’s going to trust us enough to work with us after the dust settles.”

Indiana nodded slowly, although it occurred to him that if Firebrand really was planning on “throwing them to the hexapumas” (whatever a “hexapuma” was), that would be exactly the argument he’d use to convince them he intended to do nothing of the sort. On the other hand, it did make sense…and if he and Mackenzie weren’t willing to take at least a few chances, he hadn’t had any business organizing the SIM in the first place.

“I have to admit I’m not as sublimely confident as I’d like to be,” he said.

“No reason you should be,” Firebrand agreed, then smiled at his expression. “Look, I’m a professional at this kind of thing. By definition, you guys are amateurs. I don’t mean to be casting any aspersions by that. I’m just saying that the nature of independence movements and revolutions is that the people in charge are generally getting on-the-job training, since it’s something most of them are only going to do once in their lives. And it’s not the kind of career that lets you sign up for training courses at most colleges ahead of time, either. Right?”

Indiana nodded, and Firebrand shrugged.

“All right, that means all of this is terra incognita for you, and we’re talking about your home star system. If it goes south, you and everyone you care about are going to be utterly screwed, Talisman—that’s just the way it is. I understand that. And I understand why you’re bound to be nervous. Having to rely on somebody else—somebody whose motives you know perfectly well aren’t the same as yours— ought to make you nervous. So don’t think anybody on our side’s going to get his tender sensibilities hurt if you exercise a little caution and…creative skepticism, let’s say.”

Indiana felt himself nodding again, and he was more than a little surprised by how relieved Firebrand’s attitude made him feel.

“We’ll get the weapons shipped in to you,” Firebrand went on. “If I can, I’ll try to arrange to get an instructor or two shipped in, as well, but I’ll be honest—the odds of my being able to pull that off aren’t real high. We’re way too strapped for manpower. On the other hand, we’ll get you all the tech manuals, and most of the launchers and other heavy weapons come with VR simulator programs.

“The key point, the critical timing, is still going to be up to your people, though. There’s no way we can predict from our end when the situation here in Seraphim is going to be right. That’s going to be a judgment call on your part, although we’d obviously like it to happen sometime fairly soon, let’s say.” He smiled crookedly. “We don’t expect you to commit suicide by moving too early, though. If for no other reason, because we’d sort of like you to succeed and go right on being a distraction for the Sollies, if you see what I mean.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Indiana acknowledged.

“To be honest, one of the things we’re still working on is the best way to coordinate your actions with ours. You’re obviously going to need some fleet support to keep Frontier Fleet from just securing the planetary orbitals and dropping gendarmes and kinetic weapons on your heads. We’re probably not talking about any really heavy units of our own—just something big enough to keep Frontier Fleet off your backs. But we’re either going to have to have a firm schedule for when you’re going to move, or else you’re going to have to have some way to communicate with us to tell us when you’re ready. And, frankly, providing a communications loop that’s both secure and reliable and covert is going to require some thought. The good news is we’ve got some time to think about it before the first big shipments start coming in. If anything inventive occurs to you folks, don’t be shy about sharing it. I said you’re amateurs, and you are, but sometimes amateurs think outside the box in ways that would never occur to us stodgy old professionals.”

“We’ll think about it,” Indiana promised him. “I don’t really expect we’ll come up with anything that won’t already’ve occurred to you ‘stodgy old professionals,’ but if we do we’ll certainly let you know.’”

“Good!” Firebrand cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowed for a moment, obviously running back over all they’d said. “I think that’s about everything, then,” he said finally. “For now, at least. I’ll be on-planet for a few more days, and I’ll use the channels Clambake set up to get back in contact with you before I leave. I’ll also be setting up a message account here in Seraphim—I’ll give you the access code so you can ‘hack’ the account rather than being an official addressee—and we’ll use that for me to get you the information on the shipment schedules. I’m assuming you still have that one-time pad Clambake gave you?”