Authors: Elizabeth Moon
“You’re doing the job; as far as my shares are concerned,
you
are.” There: now how would she take it?
“Me?” Stella’s voice squeaked, then steadied. “You can’t be serious. I’m too young; I don’t have the experience—”
“You’re getting the experience. How many ships are reporting to you now?”
“Uh…four. No, five.
Galloway
came in yesterday.”
“And you’ve reestablished contact with insurers?”
“Yes. The rates have gone up, but I’ve insisted ours be no higher than others. However, two big companies have ceased operations.”
“That’s understandable. The ships are carrying cargo?”
“Yes. Overall, trade is down, but we’re finding routes that work.”
“How many employees do you have?”
“Besides security, just two in the office right now—the budget’s still really tight.”
Grace grinned to herself. Stella, for all her glamour, had always been a tightwad.
“Part of that’s the need to help Ky…I never realized how much even one missile cost. And she has more crew on one ship than three tradeships—”
Then again, Stella had definitely learned about the right priorities, if she was funding Ky’s war. She was going to be a good CEO. “You remember that meeting right afterward? Just before Gerry died? No one was making sense—”
“You were. And we were all in shock—”
“And too many of them still are. I hadn’t realized the extent to which the Vattas with initiative and brains went off in ships, while the ones who stayed here—not the ones who went and came back, but the others—were timid and fog-headed.”
“Not Mother!” Stella said, sounding shocked.
“Helen’s completely engaged in taking care of Jo’s children; she’s told me she wants nothing to do with the business. No, that’s not being timid or fog-headed, but it’s also no help. What I’m getting at is that nobody here has taken over—”
“But you,” Stella said. “You have. And you’re older. You should be CEO, at least for the transition.”
“I have other work now,” Grace said. “And I don’t mean my work for Vatta. I’m in the government.” She almost hoped someone would intercept that message. Let the bad guys ponder the fact that a Vatta was not only alive and thriving, but had power. “You’re doing a good job, Stella. I don’t know anyone who could have done as well, let alone better. Count on me to back your decisions, if anyone has the gall to criticize.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Adelaide Group
“I’d be honored to assist, Captain Vatta,” Ransome said when Ky asked him. “I told you, we admire you excessively, and anything we can do to help, we are eager to do. You have only to ask.”
“It seems very crass, Captain Ransome, to mention so soon after meeting you, but—we are short of missiles, and I’ve discovered that Adelaide has a supply of outdated missiles and the components to upgrade them. Unfortunately, our recent activities depleted my reserves.”
“Your generous aid to desperate refugees,” he said, nodding. “I’ve heard how you ransomed them and asked for no return. It is entirely in keeping with your noble character. Please, allow us to help. My funds are at your disposal.”
“Here—” Ky showed him the figures.
“Oh, that’s no problem; ’tis a paltry sum.” Ky just managed not to gape at that. She had grown up in a wealthy family, but the cost of twelve hundred missiles didn’t seem at all paltry to her. “Will you need assistance upgrading the missiles? I’m sure your crew is fully capable, but the task might go quicker with more help.”
She could just imagine what her weapons officer and battery crews would say to strangers doing the upgrades. “I appreciate your generosity,” Ky said. “But no, I have yet another favor to ask. Adelaide Group has given us permission to do some training in this system. Training exercises can make us vulnerable to…to anything that might show up unexpectedly. What I’d particularly like you to do is keep a close eye on longscan, and assign one of your ships to observe our maneuvers, and at the end of each session give us your observations. I realize that’s a boring assignment for you, but as you said, your ships are not suited to mass engagements—”
“That would be delightful,” Ransome said. “It will suit our abilities. I’ll tell the others. We’ll start immediately; you will want us well out into the system, I’m sure. Oh, but wait—I need to transfer those funds. To Captain Vatta, or—”
“Kylara Vatta,” Ky said. “My account’s at Adelaide Central.”
“I’ll do it immediately,” Ransome said. “Then we’re off, flags flying and all that. Don’t mind if we move about a bit. The lads get bored just hanging about in one spot. When do you think you’ll depart?”
“We’ll have to get those missiles loaded,” Ky said. “I’m not sure. I’ll give you a call.”
“I can’t tell you how wonderful it is that we’re going to be working together,” Ransome said. “Thank you!” He bent over her hand and then was away, his cape flaring behind him.
The funds transfer cleared within the hour; Ky put a hold on the missiles and components, and went back to the ship.
“You look smug,” Hugh said when she reached the bridge.
“Do you want to send crew to pick up our missiles, or do you want them delivered?”
“You got them all?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m thinking two hundred each to Argelos and Pettygrew—that will bring them up to ninety percent—and the rest for us.”
“I’d rather we had them all,” Hugh said. “You gave them more at Gretna, and now our percentage is a lot lower than theirs.”
“I could be convinced,” Ky said. “But I need to keep our fellow captains happy.”
“An undersupplied flagship won’t keep them happy.
Vanguard
’s the most powerful ship; missile tubes aren’t worth diddly if you don’t have missiles to put in them,” Dannon said.
“All right,” Ky said. “We’ll be selfish and keep ’em all. How long will it take to reconfigure them, do you think?”
“Won’t know until we do one. Somewhere between a half hour and three hours each.”
Ky grimaced. “I hope it’s nearer a half. Ransome offered help with that, but I thought we shouldn’t have unknown hands tinkering with our ordnance. I gave him another task—watching for bogeys while we practice maneuvers, and critiquing us.”
“I like the first idea, but not the second. What do any of that bunch know about warship maneuvers?”
“If I told them to sit still and watch, so they could learn, do you think they’d be willing?” Ky asked. “But if they think they’re being asked to critique us…they’ll pay attention.”
“Oh.” Hugh looked thoughtful. “You’re right. That might work.”
The rest of that shift and the next, crew and hired cargo haulers moved the missiles into
Vanguard
’s docking bays. One by one, the missiles were upgraded…an average of forty-five minutes per missile per tech. Six crew had the skills, but there was room for only four to work at one time. Ky let Hugh determine the most efficient use of their time and space; she needed to convince her other captains of the value of Ransome’s Raiders.
“I know why you’re keeping all those missiles,” Argelos said as they sat down to lunch in the Captains’ Guild dining area. “I agree—you need them more, and we need you to be fully supplied. But this fellow Ransome and his schoolboy chums—”
“I think they’ll be useful,” Ky said, dipping a spoon in her soup. “I’ve told them to go out and keep watch while we do some training, and one of them will be watching us, supposedly to critique, but actually to learn something about multiship maneuvers.”
“I suppose that can’t hurt,” Pettygrew said.
“We’re understrength and vulnerable,” Ky said. “You know that. Even with the supply ship Adelaide and the refugees gave us, we have only three warships, less than half what we had before. Ransome’s three gives us at least three more sets of ears and eyes.”
“I just don’t see him—or those friends of his—being much use in a real fight.”
“I’m not counting on them for that. They might surprise us, but even if they don’t, the enemy may waste some time on them. It’s an advantage, even if a tiny one. And they paid for the missiles.”
Argelos’ eyebrows went up. “All of them?”
“Yes. All of them. The one thing we know they have is money, and they’re willing to spend it on us. I don’t want to overdo it, but right now we are short, as you know. What we really need is system governments to chip in, but until that happens—”
“If it ever does,” Pettygrew said.
“It will, though possibly not before we’re random space dust. However, in the meantime, we need to make use of every economic opportunity, and it strikes me that this is an economic opportunity. They want to play, and they’re willing to pay.”
“I see your point,” Argelos said. “It’s fine with me, then. We still don’t have enough munitions to waste any on target practice, though—not until we’re somewhere we can resupply.”
“I know. But we can work on calibrating our navigation systems, our scans—and using our communications devices. And I don’t know about your ships, but my crew can use more drills on everything from inboard emergencies to boarding situations.”
“We worked on that on the way here,” Pettygrew said. “But yes. What about EVA drills?”
“Certainly,” Ky said. “I made a preliminary schedule—preliminary because we’re still upgrading and loading missiles, and also because I wanted your input.” She handed over the hardcopies.
“This looks good,” Argelos said after a moment. “My military adviser wanted to be sure there was practice in precision microjumps…you’ve got that…and scan calibration…you’ve got that…”
“We’re going to look like idiots at some of this,” Pettygrew said. “But I notice you don’t have any close-formation practice.”
“With so few of us, we can’t risk it,” Ky said. “You’ll find I’ve suggested close approaches—slowly—for the EVA work. But we can’t fight in close formation, where a hull breach of one ship could take out the next. What we need to know is how to position ourselves in open formation to cover one another.”
“Makes sense,” Pettygrew said.
“And I have a surprise,” Ky said.
“What’s that?” Argelos asked.
“Remember we’d planned to get ship patches for the new organization at Gretna? And some kind of official-looking seal for the gangways and such? I used some of the money Ransome gave me for that.” She signaled a waiter. “Here’s the tag for my bag in the cloakroom,” she told him. “Please bring it.”
When he returned and set the bag beside her chair, Ky opened it and pulled out two patches, handing one to each of the others. “You already have ship patches on your personnel…these can be sewn above them.”
“That was Bellinger’s design, wasn’t it?” Pettygrew asked, eyes alight.
“Yes. All I did was add the lettering for Space Defense Force, Third Fleet. You like them?”
“Impressive,” Argelos said, fingering the one she had handed him. “My crew will like it, too.”
“There are plaques for the ships, as well,” Ky said. “Three for each ship, at this time. One should go at the gangway, one on the bridge, and one wherever you think best.”
“Same design?”
“Not exactly. They were too big to bring with me; they’re being delivered to your ships. I did tell Ransome about this, by the way.”
Over the next few days, as the missile conversion went slowly forward, Ky noticed the new patches on the crews of all three ships as they went about the station. To her eye, they moved more confidently, more purposefully.
“Captain! There’s something on the onboard ansible!”
Ky rolled out of bed, her eyes sticky with fatigue. They had finally finished the missile conversions, but she had stayed up to supervise. The other captains knew that; no one should be calling her now.
“It’s supposed to be first-shift where you are,” Stella said when Ky made it to the console; she looked as beautiful as ever, perfectly groomed, and wide awake. “I checked. And this is a secure connection, by the way.”
“I’ve been up two days,” Ky said. “You couldn’t have known.” Trust Stella to use the onboard ansible to chat, just because Ky had given her the new channel codes. She yawned.
“Trouble?” Stella frowned.
“No. Just some urgent business. You have news?”
“Slotter Key’s ansible is back up. Have you noticed?”
“No…when did that happen?”
“Just a couple of days ago. Aunt Grace called me. She’s in the government somehow. Defense Department.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Ky said. “What did she do, kill off all the traitors?”
Stella looked shocked. “She didn’t say that…and if she had, surely she’d be in jail.”
Ky snorted. “Not our Aunt Gracie. She could’ve just fed them fruitcake with rocks in it or something. What else?”
“They’ve laid the cornerstone for the new Vatta headquarters. She says it won’t be ready for occupancy for a standard year or more, and I should just stay where I am. And Ky—she thinks I should be CEO. Permanently.”
“So do I,” Ky said.
“But I told her I was too young.”
“And she said don’t be ridiculous, didn’t she? I can just hear her saying that.”
“Something like that yes. She thinks I’m doing well so far.”
“You’re doing far better running the company than I am fighting a war,” Ky said. “And much better than I’d do with the company. Are other ansibles coming up? Did ISC say anything?”
“ISC didn’t do the repairs on Slotter Key’s ansible, Aunt Grace said. Slotter Key Spaceforce did. So far ISC hasn’t said anything at all.”
“They will,” Ky said. She rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand, trying to wake all the way up. “Especially if there’s something seriously wrong in ISC. Speaking of that, have you had any messages from Rafe on Nexus? He was going to ask his father what was wrong.”
“Not a word,” Stella said. “I haven’t tried to contact him myself, either. He was going incognito; I didn’t want to arouse any interest.”
“Oh…that’s right. But ISC must have something dire going on internally. I’m glad we’re not dependent on them anymore. If they’ve really lost control of their people—and Rafe thought they had, at least of some of them—”
“Which brings me to Toby’s latest fit of genius,” Stella said, looking smug. “He’s managed to create an interface between his version of the shipboard ansibles and system ansibles. And as near as he can tell, it’s not detected by the system ansibles.”
“What? That’s…that’s impossible.”
“I’m beginning to think that with Toby, nothing technical is impossible,” Stella said. “I know his talents were supposed to lie in space drives, but seeing what he’s done with ansible technology, I wonder if that doesn’t mean he’s going to invent an instantaneous space drive, like, two days ago or something.”