Elizabeth Moon - Once a Hero

“Good enough. Have you seen these before?” She went on before Esmay could answer. “Wiggly, aren’t they?” She sounded pleased.

“More than I thought,” Esmay said honestly. Vidscan screens showed the entire route, from the exit port at the end of the SpecMatFab, up over T-1, the core, and down again between T-3 and T-4. “Why didn’t they put the repair bays on the same side of the ship as SpecMat? Wouldn’t it have been easier to transfer things like that?”

“Yes, but that turned out to be the least important design consideration. If it really interests you, when this crisis is over, you can look it up in the design archives . . . the whole argument is in there.” She punched up the view in one screen, and pointed to the bundles. “Now that’s a good set. After awhile, you’ll be recognizing good strands from bad by the oscillations alone. If we didn’t have this other crisis, I’d send you over to SpecMat to watch them during breakoff.”

Esmay was just as glad to miss that. She had heard from others about the more spectacular breakoffs, when the test sequences induced more oscillation than a faulty crystal could withstand, and shards flew with a noise that was said to shake reason.

“Let me see what you’ve got,” Pitak said. She looked at the data Esmay had found and frowned. “I don’t think this is it. The shearing force isn’t enough to unseat the AG generators, and you’re suggesting that it was AG instability which caused the drive failure, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How does it model?”

“They’ve bumped everyone below department heads off the big computer . . . the little one said it was possible. That’s why I brought it.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t like the modeling program on the little one for anything but pure structural layups. For this sort of thing we need the Mishnazi series . . . but I imagine they’re trying to maximize their data analysis. I don’t think this is likely enough to ask for the time ourselves.” She looked at Esmay. “You should log off and get some sleep while you can—at least a good meal. Have you kept track of who’s been to dinner?”

“No, sir, but I can do that as soon as I get back.”

“Do that, then, and thanks for this . . . I think it’s sabotage, myself, but D&M asked us to consider it.”

Esmay nodded and withdrew with her escort, a corporal she’d yanked out of the H&A clerical section when she needed to find Pitak. She hated feeling useless. Of course she should eat; of course she should be making sure that everyone in the section did. But . . . she wanted to do more.

She had just reached Pitak’s office and started checking on the whereabouts of all the personnel under her command when the comm beeped at her. It was Pitak.

“Right in the middle of a crisis and they have to short me. Suiza, what have you been doing to get the admirals interested in you?”

“Nothing that I know of,” said Esmay.

“Well, you’re to report to Admiral Dossignal’s office immediately, and the note to me says not to expect you back any time soon. It never fails. I get someone trained to the point where they can do me some good, and the brass taketh away.”

“Sorry, Major,” Esmay said, before remembering that she wasn’t supposed to apologize. She thought of Barin with a pang. Was he still alive? Was he . . . all right?

“Better get going,” Pitak said. “And if you have a chance, let me know what’s going on. There’s an odd feeling in the ship.”

“Yes, sir.”

In the admiral’s outer office, Commander Atarin was watching for her. “Ah—Lieutenant Suiza. Good. We’re going directly to a secure meeting room in T-1; our escort will meet us at the lift tube.”

“Sir, may I ask—”

“Not until we’re there. And don’t look alarmed; you aren’t in trouble and we don’t want to scare anyone.”

“Yes, sir.”

Two armed pivot-majors, with Security patches, waited by the lift tubes. “Commander, the captain says it would be better to avoid the tubes,” one of them said. Esmay saw the sheen of perspiration on his face.

“Something happened?”

“I can’t say, sir,” the man said. He was breathing a bit too fast.

“Let’s go, then.” Esmay and Commander Atarin followed as he led them around the core to the base of T-1. The wide passageway was busier than usual, as if others were avoiding the lift tubes and slideways. They had five decks of ladders to climb; when they emerged from the last, Esmay saw another pair of security guards, these with their weapons in hand, outside a secured hatch. A portable ID booth had been set up nearby, and Esmay noticed the heavy gray boxes and cables of a full-strength blanket system positioned along the bulkhead. Whatever this was about, it was being kept as secure as possible from intrusion.

She and Atarin both went through a complete ID check, retinal scans, palmprints, and blood test. Then the guards at the door checked them in.

Inside, the medium-sized conference room was edged with more scan-blanketing equipment; in the center, a cluster of officers leaned over a large table with a 3-D model of Koskiusko on it. Esmay already knew Admirals Dossignal and Livadhi by sight, as well as Captain Hakin, but she had not met the lean gray-haired full commander who was introduced as Wraith ’s captain, or his Exec, Lieutenant Commander Frees. Another lieutenant commander named Bowry, who wore no ship patch, but had a collar-pin indicating he was in the Senior Technical Schools for some course. What was this?

“Gentlemen.” That was Admiral Dossignal, now seating himself at one end of the table. Esmay saw that places had been prepared, with nametags . . . hers near the far end of the table. She sat just as the others did.

“As you know,” Dossignal said, even before the last chair slid back into place, “we are in a difficult situation here. In a few minutes, you’ll have a chance to review the details of that situation, but the first thing you need to know is that you are all immediately relieved of your former assignments. You are assigned, under my direct command, to a difficult and dangerous mission; this is the first of the meetings you will hold to plan the execution of this mission.” He paused, as if for comment, but no one was unwise enough to make any. “You also need to know that Captain Hakin is not in agreement with the aim of this mission, and plans to file a letter of protest. I respect his moral courage in so expressing his disagreement, and his loyalty, which has allowed him to cooperate even under protest.”

Esmay glanced at the captain, who went from beet-red to pale in the course of this.

“I take full responsibility,” Admiral Dossignal went on, “for what is done here, and its outcome. I have so informed Captain Hakin, and have so stipulated in the official log. Is that clear?”

He waited until everyone had nodded.

“Good. Now: our mission is to capture a Bloodhorde ship, and using that and Wraith , successfully defend this ship from capture. You are the officers who will command elements involved in this mission, so you are here to plan it.”

“But Wraith ’s crippled,” said someone—a lieutenant commander whose name Esmay had already forgotten.

“Correct. Wraith ’s drives are dismounted and she cannot maneuver. But she can be trolled out to the drive test cradle, where her weapons can come to bear on either the Bloodhorde ships or Koskiusko , as need requires.”

“ Koskiusko . . .” someone murmured too audibly.

“If capture appears inevitable, Koskiusko must be destroyed. Its capability must not fall into Bloodhorde hands—nor must its thousands of skilled technicians.”