Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Light

“The logic is inescapable,” Sasha said, once the door was closed and Charlie had run a sweep for bugs. They hadn’t found one since they’d moved into the small hotel complex, but some of the places they’d stayed had been virtual auditoriums. It was quite common for landlords to watch their patrons carefully, just in case of recording blackmail material, or just out of simple voyeuristic interest. “Admiral Wilhelm has the support, according to Andy there, of three other sectors. That is not good.”

As understatement, Charlie thought, it took the limit. “Yes,” he said, flatly. He knew more about starships and space warfare techniques, at least in theory, than the others, but he was far from an expert. “If he has the combined sector fleets, he out-masses Admiral Garland by at least three-to-one. The result will not be pretty.”

“The 2 ndfleet includes a lot of the new technology,” Sandra pointed out. The exact details might have been classified, but they knew the basics, everyone did. Admiral Wilhelm would certainly have sensor records from the Battle of Earth. “Won’t that even the odds?”

Charlie shook his head. “Against three times her strength with absolutely no warning of what she’s facing?”

“True,” Sasha said. She glanced down at her timepiece. “That leaves us with an interesting problem. Admiral Garland will have already departed her base and we have no idea where she intends to use as her final waypoint. If we intend to warn her, we must do so here, which will almost certainly reveal our own presence.”

“I hate to be cold-blooded about this,” Sandra said, “but there are three of us and over thirty thousand men and women on her ships. Our lives are nothing compared to that — or, for that matter, starships that cannot be replaced quickly.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. A woman who could casually seduce someone, drug him for interrogation and then walk around almost naked was always cold-blooded. He wouldn’t have slept with Sandra, despite her beauty and extensive array of sexual skills, even if he were offered all the wealth in the Empire. She used her beauty as she used everything else — as a weapon.

“I know,” Sasha said. “If we warn the Admiral directly, we will reveal our presence, so we don’t want to do that. Remaining here may offer us a chance to take a shot at Admiral Wilhelm directly.”

Sandra scowled. “Assassination is not within our orders,” she said, firmly, crossing her arms under her breasts. “If we go beyond the scope…”

“What choice do we have?” Sasha asked, reasonably. “If Admiral Wilhelm is far more powerful than he seems, then he will tear hell out of the Empire, even if he loses in the end. We should take up a position within his power structure and take the first shot at him we get. This is our duty.”

“I am not disputing that,” Charlie said, holding up a hand. “However, that still leaves us with the problem of warning the fleet. That was covered directly in our orders.”

He ran through the possibilities. A direct radio transmission would betray their presence. A laser communications beam was undetectable, but using it would require knowing where the fleet was going to emerge and remaining in orbit for a long period, neither of which they had. The Neddy Seagoon might be able to leave the system, but she wouldn’t be allowed to float in orbit, not when she could land. Even trying to remain in orbit would set off all kinds of signals at System Command.

Sasha stroked her chin. “Sandra, could you slip a post-hypnotic suggestion into your lover?”

Sandra frowned. “Maybe,” she said, reluctantly. “You want him to organise an emergency signal to the fleet?” Sasha nodded. “I can try, but I don’t know if it will take.”

Charlie nodded. The public view of Imperial Intelligence was that it could condition someone to do anything, from going into sexual slavery to acting as an unwitting spy among their former friends and allies. It was even true, to some degree, but it required a long period of conditioning and access to drugs and technology that they didn’t possess… and, under the right sort of analysis, it was instantly noticeable. A post-hypnotic command, given to a man under the influence of various drugs, might work… or it might simply be dismissed as another mad influence.

“Unless someone comes up with an alternative, we have no choice,” Sasha said. Charlie scowled. The best alternate plan he could think of was to insert a command into the orbital communications network, but they didn’t have a webhead with them and anything lesser would probably be noticed. “You can implant the command and then bring him out of his trance slowly. The rest of us will start looking for a way into Admiral Wilhelm’s stronghold.”

Andy Gillingham struggled back to awareness, surfacing from a bed of pleasure and joy reluctantly, not wanting to wake up. He felt wonderfully refreshed and relaxed, as if he had been sleeping for a week, and reached out with a hand. It touched what was indisputably a female breast and his eyes snapped open. There was a girl in bed with him!

Memories returned; they’d met back at the bar, they’d gone up to her room… and they’d slept together. He was sure of it. Somehow, he’d picked up a wonderful girl and fucked her senseless! Her eyes opened and met his… and he felt himself falling into her dark ovals. She smiled at him, kissed his lips again, and climbed on top of him, pushing down and impaling herself on his penis. As she started to ride him, all of Gillingham’s questions faded away, replaced only with the certainty of her presence. He didn’t want to — he couldn’t — question here.

Afterwards, they lay in bed, nibbling from a tray of food that room service had forwarded to them. The poor assistant had seen everything when Sandra opened the door, but she’d merely taken the food from him, placed a small kiss on his cheek while his eyes still hadn’t reached her face, and closed the door firmly behind him.

“What’s the time?” He asked, finally. He hadn’t even wanted to look at his watch and he had a nasty suspicion that he’d overstayed his welcome. “How long have we been…?”

“Oh, enough to make me really sore and happy, lover,” Sandra said, calmly. She passed him his watch and smiled. “You really have the stamina of a horse.”

Somehow, that didn’t seem strange to him. He checked his watch and swore. He wasn’t overdue at the shipyard, but he would have to run. He leapt out of bed and ran into the shower. A moment later, Sandra joined him.

“Hey,” he protested, as she started to wash his hair. No one had washed his hair since he’d been a child. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you,” Sandra said, practically. Her bare breasts pushed against his back as one hand reached down to stroke his penis. “Will I see you again later?”

They exchanged communications codes before parting. He couldn’t remember being as happy in his life. Somehow, she made him feel complete…

And he missed the look of contempt she shot his back completely.

The destroyer flickered into existence just outside the gravity shadow, already racing towards the planet fast enough to be dangerous. Targeting sensors locked onto the ship at once, sending orders through the network to prepare to engage when — if — it came within range, while communication beams demanded identification and explanations. The crew of the destroyer sent back a single signal, addressed to Admiral Wilhelm personally, and the targeting sensors snapped off. Having delivered its message, the destroyer slowed and settled down into a proper orbit. It had been a long flight.

Admiral Wilhelm was having breakfast when the message arrived on his terminal. He’d been expecting it long enough to abandon a half-eaten plate of bacon and eggs on the table and open the message instead, skimming it quickly. Admiral Garland — her name had been picked up from intercepted transmissions in the system — was finally on her way. The picketing destroyer had even managed to sneak close enough to get a fairly comprehensive list of ship types and names, although most of them were of unfamiliar design.