Dark Running (Fourth Fleet Irregulars Book 4) (18 page)

‘Well, it’s important,’ he pointed out. ‘If we sold goods under such misleading packaging, we’d be sued. I don’t see that standards should be any lower in public office than they are in industry – if this is a raw data-pack, fine, but if it’s laying claim to being a full professional briefing, they’re in breach of Trade Description.’

Alex chuckled again. ‘All right,’ he said, taking a lumo-pen from his pocket, ‘if it will make you happy...’ he crossed out the words
Exodiplomacy Briefing
from the front cover of the file, wrote
XD Data-pack
instead and gave Davie a teasing look, ‘Okay?’

‘Thank you,’ Davie said, with an air of satisfaction. ‘I’ll give you my analysis of it whenever you like, though that will amount to ‘Ignore everything the Dippies say, stand strong, talk straight.’’

Alex nodded. That tallied with his own instincts, though he’d hardly had time, yet, to consider the mission in any depth.

‘All right,’ he said, in a tone that made it clear that he was bringing the briefing to a close. ‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen – we’ll meet again in a few days, when we’re all up to speed on the files.’

He got up from the table himself as the meeting broke up, heading straight down to the lab. There, he spent several minutes calming things down. That took some doing – Angas Paytel had, by then, broken it to them that their space trip was going to be a good deal longer than anticipated. They’d be aboard the Heron for the eight weeks it would take them to reach the border, then transferred to the Stepeasy. The super-yacht would not, however, be bringing them back to Therik, or taking them anywhere else. It would remain in a holding orbit within the Ranges, waiting for the Heron to return.

‘Twenty five
weeks
?’ Jate was flushed with indignation. ‘We’re just going to be stuck there for five
months
?’

Alex had learned enough about dealing with civilians not to point out that they had signed aboard under terms and conditions which meant that they could be required to stay with the Fourth for anything up to a year. That was routine for any passengers embarking on Fleet ships, in fact, allowing for even the most extreme operational requirements.

‘I’m sorry, there’s just no way around it.’ He said. ‘The Stepeasy will make you very comfortable, and you’ll be provided with working facilities too, but we just can’t take the smallest risk of any suspicion arising that we’ve crossed the border into Marfikian space. Please don’t take that personally, it is not meant as any reflection on either your trustworthiness or your patriotism. We know that none of you would leak anything intentionally, but accidents do happen, and most security leaks are accidental. It would put lives at great risk if the Marfikians discovered that we had sent a warship into their territory – our own lives, of course, obviously, but also through the risk of reprisal raids against our own shipping. Security in the Cherque sector is already as high as it can be – ships either travel in warship-guarded convoy or take the risk of running dark, themselves, avoiding known space lanes. We’re in a non-combative phase at the moment, but even so, we’ve lost four ships to Marfikian raids over the last ten years, and historically, when they’re really pushing at our defences, they may have anything up to a hundred of their ships raiding in that sector. None of us wants to take the smallest risk of triggering something like that, do we?’

They conceded that, reluctantly.

‘I just wish we’d been
told
,’ said Jate, and then realised herself that that was stupid, given that the whole point was to keep it secret. ‘Oh, I know, I know,’ she said, with a glance at Angas Paytel which made it clear they’d already been having this conversation before Alex arrived, ‘We
were
told, at least, all that stuff on the paperwork about Fourth’s operations, that it might be anything, drug patrols, classified stuff, combat, even alien encounters, but it just didn’t seem, you know,
real
. This is different, it’s really heavy stuff, you know? I mean, like,
really
heavy. We should never have been brought aboard with this going on, it just isn’t fair.’

‘It’s part of the cover, for sure,’ said Misha Tregennis. ‘And an important part, too – it would have been very suspicious if the Fourth
hadn’t
set off with the usual complement of research teams, after all. And it would get about very fast if we were dropped onto liners or taken somewhere else, too. People have to believe that we’re at Dortmell, or failing that, on our way to Quarus. And I don’t mind that, myself, not at all – I’m happy to do whatever I can to help. Obviously,
obviously
, this is far more important in the scheme of things than
my
convenience. And there are worse fates than to have to spend a few months cruising on a luxury yacht, after all.’

Alex gave her a quick grin, as grateful for her calm, common sense manner as for the words of support.

‘Well, yes, I suppose,’ Jate admitted, even more reluctantly. ‘But what about the Ignite test, then? Is that even for real?’

‘Yes, absolutely,’ said Alex. ‘In fact, it is an integral part of our mission. The thinking is, clearly, that if we
are
able to establish contact with Samart then we have to be in a position to offer them as equal an exchange as we can, if we’re to stand any chance of persuading them to give us any of their edge technology. The supplies we’ll be picking up are mostly for goodwill, cultural exchange. The Ignite will be our real offer, our most advanced and powerful weapon.’

‘You’re going to
give
it to them?’ That was a cry of incredulous dismay from Mack McLaver. He brought himself under control very quickly as the skipper looked at him, but was clearly struggling with strong emotion. ‘The Ignite is our hottest weapons tech, the most advanced piece of ordnance ever developed in the whole of human history,’ Mack pointed out. ‘The idea of giving it away is just...’ he shook his head, ‘gut-wrenching. I’m trying not to howl, here,’ he admitted, ‘or swear at you. But you have to understand, skipper – that missile has been our all-consuming passion for the last six years of its development, it is our pride and joy, the most powerful missile ever developed, and you are proposing to hand it over to a foreign power like a freebie rocket on Constitution Day. You can understand, I hope, how we feel.’

‘Absolutely,’ Alex said, and with genuine sympathy, too. ‘But I do think you are seeing this from a rather narrow point of view – understandably, it is as you say your pride and joy, your baby, and the words ‘give it away’ are quite naturally making you hyperventilate. If you could take a few deep breaths, though, and hear me out... for a start, you have my absolute assurance that I will not, of course, obviously, even consider giving the Samartians access to the Ignite or any other tech unless we
are
able to establish a relationship of trust, in which I am fully satisfied, bluntly, that they will not use those weapons against
us
. Secondly, I will not offer them the Ignite anyway unless we can offer it with data from a successful test, as a ‘very nearly’ working missile wouldn’t do us any credit. And third, most importantly, you have to understand that if we
are
able to establish a trust relationship with Samart and
if
the missile is working properly and
if
it is of value to them – which we don’t know, after all, they may already have more advanced weaponry than that, themselves – but if it
is
of value and we are able to trade it for whatever tech they have that is obviously so effective against the Marfikians, you will, with that, be doing an
enormous
service to the League, making our worlds safer, which is of course what it is all about. And we ourselves, of course, will still
have
the Ignite, we’re offering to share it, that’s all.’

‘Well, I suppose,’ said Mack, uneasily. ‘And you really do think we
can
fix it, in the time we have?’

Alex smiled. Micky Efalto had said that he could fix the missile in a couple of days. Micky operated in his own personal time stream, though, in which ‘I’ll have it done in ten minutes’ was generally understood to mean ‘come back in a couple of hours’.

‘Yes, I think so,’ he said. ‘It only needs an exchange of gyros, and there’s no shortage of systems we can use in the Ranges for testing.’

‘Yes, but…’ Jate protested, then adopted a more professional manner, ‘I’m sorry, skipper, but I really don’t think that it can be anything that
simple
. We already use the diamond standard gyro for missiles and I don’t see that the one you propose using has any functional advantage at all. And the calculations which identify the gyro as the cause of the misfire are so speculative and unsubstantiated that they’re no more than a guess. If you’re expecting this new gyro to be an instant fix, I’m sorry, but you’re going to be disappointed. It just isn’t
possible
to figure out what’s wrong and solve it in under eight weeks!’

‘I have every confidence that our solution will work,’ Alex assured her. ‘And perhaps it may help, in that, if I tell you that Mr Efalto had, as he put it, help with his sums from Kate Naos, so I wouldn’t describe those calculations as speculative, myself.’

Mack McLaver looked impressed. He had seen Kate Naos at work. Jate, however, had not. She had only heard of her as ‘The Maths Kid’, a mathematical genius best known for having found the solution to the Petrasky Curve at the age of nine. A journalist filming an interview with her at the time had upped the cuteness level by asking her to hold a stuffed panda. That coverage had been revived recently, after news broke that the Maths Kid was travelling with the Fourth. It would be hard for Jate to see beyond the image of the teddy-cuddling kid to understand just how brilliant a wave-space mathematician Kate Naos had become.

‘Well, we’ll do our best to help you with it,’ Mack said, resolutely. It might be tearing at his gut to think of handing over the Ignite to a foreign power, but he recognised his duty. At the same time, though, Sam Maylard was holding up a hand, evidently feeling that enough time had been given to discussion of the Ignite.

‘Of course, we’ll all do everything we can to help,’ he said, as Alex looked at him. ‘But please, skipper – is there any chance that we could come along?’ He caught the look of horror on more than one face, and amended, quickly, ‘Those of us who want to, at least? Me? I think I could be helpful, and I wouldn’t be any trouble.’

Alex grinned.

‘I do have some discretion over whether I allow civilians to come along with us,’ he admitted. ‘But if you are serious about that, Sam, you’ll have to convince me over the next eight weeks that there is real operational benefit to keeping you aboard. We’ll discuss that nearer the time, if any of you
do
want to stay with us once you understand what will actually be involved.’

‘Thank you, skipper,’ Misha said. ‘And I for one want to go on record as saying thanks, too, for letting us in on this as much as you can, giving us the same information as your own crew. You would have been within your rights to blank out the lab during briefings and refuse to tell us anything at all, just leave us on the Stepeasy with no idea what’s going on.’

She might have been a different woman from the one who’d tried to flirt with him at dinner. She was all business, now. He could see that she had said those things not for his benefit, but to remind her colleagues that they were only guests aboard this ship.

‘I would never do that,’ Alex assured them. ‘I don’t doubt that you will handle this just as well as my own crew – we’re all a bit knocked sideways by it at the moment, obviously, it will take a day or two to get our heads around it all. But you’re coping very well. We’ve had to peel people off the deck for stuff this high impact, or treat them for panic attacks. You’re keeping it together very well – very impressive.’

He left them feeling proud of themselves, which was generally all it needed for people to overcome their fears, in Alex’s experience.

A walk around the ship, though, confirmed that he did not have to employ any such morale-boosting tactics with his crew. They were eager to see him, knowing that he
would
do a walk round the ship after posting major mission orders, giving them all an opportunity to talk to him and ask questions of their own if they wanted. All they wanted to do this evening was to tell him that they were up for this, a hundred per cent, thrilled and honoured, delighted,
wow
. Banno Triesse did express some slight regret that they were not after all going to Quarus, but was cried down by his mates.

‘Are you
nuts
?’ one of them asked. ‘This is
waaaaay
more important!’

‘
Big
stuff!’ another told him.

‘We can go to Quarus anytime,’ said a third, as if that was no more than a trip to the seaside.

Alex saw the recruit laugh and capitulate to the peer pressure, there, and smiled as he went on his way. In-group socialisation was working very well, there, he noted. Peer bonding, absorption, normalising, all within beneficial parameters. Or, to put it rather less academically, the rookie was fitting in just fine.