Эрик Флинт - The Service of the Sword

He broke off the angry, desperate thought. Cachat was addressing Chin again, still in that same calm, cold, controlled tone of voice.

"Yes, I am State Security. But tell me, Admiral, what is your grievance with me ?" Cachat glanced at the screens. "Or Commissioner Radamacher. Or Commissioner Justice."

That—finally!—seem to rattle Chin. "Well . . . you had my people beaten up!"

Cachat's eyebrows rose. " Your people? Admiral Chin, I cannot recall a single instance where I had corporal punishment of any kind inflicted on any member of either the Navy or the Marines." He glanced at Ned Pierce, who was also in line of sight of the display. "Well, I suppose you could argue that I punished the Sergeant's knuckles by having him pound a number of my people into a pulp. Or have you forgotten—again—that Radamacher and Justice are part of StateSec, not the military."

If Yuri had had any doubts whether he loved Sharon Justice, she resolved them right then and there. She grinned at Pierce and said: "Sergeant, if you'll forgive me your poor knuckles, I'll forgive you my poor face. How's that?"

Pierce grinned back. "That's a deal, Captain. Uh, Commissioner."

Sharon's head swiveled a little, to bring Chin's image into view. Yuri was getting a little dizzy with this three-way holographic discussion.

"Genevieve, cut it out," she said forcefully. "For six years now, you've rebuilt your career—and probably saved your life—by trusting StateSec people you thought you could trust. Why are you screwing around with it now? For years now, we've all managed to spare La Martine from the worst of what happened, by working together. I say we stick with it."

Genevieve's temper was fading, now, and her usual intelligence returning. Yuri could recognize the signs, and drew a deep breath.

"Okay, fine," Genevieve. "But that only applies to—you know, you. The fleet StateSec people."

Cachat's face was impassive, as usual. Vesey, the CO of the Tilden, on the other hand, was looking distinctly uneasy.

"I believe Commissioner Justice has had no complaints against Captain Vesey," Cachat stated curtly. "At least, all the reports I received from her throughout our mission were completely positive. Am I not correct, Commissioner Justice?"

From her moment's hesitation, Yuri suspected that Sharon's reports to Cachat had been somewhat edited. He doubted very much if she'd found working with the stolid SD captain all that positive an experience. But she piped up cheerfully: "Oh, sure. I've got no problem with Captain Vesey. Neither do you, Genevieve. You told me yourself you were happy with the captain's work—especially the way he participated when we nailed that Mantie battlecruiser in Daggan."

Yuri's eyes flicked to the image of Chin, and he had to fight down a laugh. Chin's hesitation lasted longer than a "moment." Yuri was quite sure that whatever praise Chin had heaped on Vesey, it had been grudging at best. However, Chin also did not argue the point.

"Yes, yes. Okay. I've got no bone to pick with the Tilden. " Genevieve was starting to think like an admiral again. "And since I see that Yuri's got the Hector under control—thanks for taking down the impellers and sidewalls, Yuri, that makes me a lot less nervous—"

Radamacher was startled. He hadn't ordered . . .

Then Kit Carson caught his eye and he really had to fight down a laugh. The Hector 's XO had his most ingratiating expression on. Ever attuned to the changing of the political winds, Carson had apparently ordered the SD to stand down while Yuri had been preoccupied with forestalling another disastrous explosion. It was one of the few times in his life where Radamacher was willing to sing hosannas to the virtues of lickspittles.

"—I guess we can all consider the military situation something of a stalemate," Genevieve continued. Frowning: "As long as everybody agrees to remain in stand down. And remain here, in La Martine orbit. Assuming the merchant ship's report that there's a truce on in the Mantie war is right also, we shouldn't need to run anti-raiding patrols for a while. And—ha!—after what we did in Laramie and New Calcutta, I doubt if any pirates are going to be stirring around here for a while either."

Yuri picked it up and took it from there. "I agree with Genevieve. Let's face it, everybody. The crews of all the Republic's warships here in La Martine are so thoroughly mixed up by now—"

Thanks to the fanatic. Ha! The Law of Unintended Consequences works its will again!

"—that as long as we all stay calm—as Genevieve says, stay together in one orbit and remain standing down—then nobody can purge anybody. And besides," he added, shrugging, "does anybody really have that much of a grudge left, anyway? Not for anybody here in La Martine, I don't think. So I see no reason why we can't just keep on maintaining this sector of the Republic in a state of peace and calm. Just wait, damnation, until we find out for sure what's happening in the capital."

The relaxation everywhere was almost palpable, on all three screens. Yuri took another deep breath. That was it, he thought. For now, at least.

Cachat's voice interrupted his pleasant thoughts.

"You're overlooking one final matter, Commissioner Radamacher."

"What's that?"

"Me, of course. More precisely, what I represent. I was sent here by personal appointment of Oscar Saint-Just, then head of state of the Republic. And leaving formalities aside, I think it's accurate to say that for some time now I have effectively ruled this sector by dictatorial methods."

Yuri stared at him. Then, snorted. "Yes, I'd say that's accurate. Especially the dictatorial part."

Cachat seemed oblivious to the sarcasm. His image in the display was still larger than life. The grim young fanatic face, especially, seemed to loom over everything else. On the bridge of the Hector, at least; but Yuri was quite sure the effect was the same on the Tilden —and probably even more so on the battleship where Cachat was standing in person. The man was just so forceful and intimidating that he had that effect.

"What's your point, Cachat?"

To his surprise, Sharon interjected herself sharply.

"Yuri, stop being an ass. Captain Cachat has been courteous to you, so there's no excuse for you to be rude to him."

Yuri stared at her. "He—the bastard beat you up!"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" she snapped. "You're behaving like a schoolboy. Instead of using your brains. And aren't you the man whose favorite little saying—one of them, anyway—is 'give credit where credit is due'?"

The image of her head swiveled, as she turned to the screen showing Cachat. "Are you really willing to do it, Captain? Nobody's asking it from you."

"Of course, I am. It's my simple duty, under the circumstances." Cachat made that little half-irritated twitch of the shoulders which seemed to be his version of a shrug. "I realize most of you—all of you, I imagine—consider me a fanatic. I neither accept the term, nor do I reject it. I am indifferent to your opinions, frankly. I swore an oath when I joined State Security to devote my life to the service of the Republic. I meant that oath when I gave it, and I have never once wavered in that conviction. Whatever I've done, to the best of my ability at the time and my gauge of the situation, was done in the interests of the people to whom I swore that oath. The people to whom I swore that oath, may I remind you. There is no mention of Oscar Saint-Just or any other individual in the StateSec oath of loyalty."

The square shoulders twitched again. "Oscar Saint-Just is dead, but the Republic remains. Certainly its people remain. So my oath still binds me, and under the current circumstances my duty seems clear to me."