Hunt the Heavens: Book Two of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy (12 page)

“What are these locations?”

“These are twelve battles fought during the war. I got them from the standard Federation history of the Al’ar war. We gave these battles their own names, which I assume could have different labels in Al’ar, so what you’re looking at are just the ana/kata coordinates.”

“Why were — are these battles special?”

“Because these were fought in the middle of nowhere, for no discernible reason. All of them are deep inside the Al’ar sectors. Generally a Federation Fleet or Fleets would be traversing a certain area and be met with a sudden attack that ended only with the complete defeat of one or another force.”

“What makes that extraordinary? There were many such fights.”

“True. But these catfights appear to have been by accident, and especially ferocious, when our forces stumbled into yours. The Al’ar ships were already in place, as if they were holding a specific defensive position.”

“Perhaps,” Taen said, “your security was inadequate. Perhaps our forces had advance knowledge of your Fleet movements and were able to prepare ambushes.”

“That was what the Federation Command worried about. I was consulted on two of the battles, which is why I remembered them. They’d assembled all data on the two events, but no one could find any congruence that might suggest a mole. They wanted to know if I could provide any interpretation of what happened. I failed. The explanation settled on was the imbecilic one of ‘aliens do alien things in an alien way.’ ”

“Do not be angry at them. My own Command On
High frequently used the same simplistic thinking,”
Taen said.

Wolfe returned to Al’ar.
“I would like you to examine these locations on a small-scale starchart and tell me what the computer tells you about them.”

“I do not understand what you are seeking, but I shall obey. Rest yourself. This shall take some time, even with a device as sophisticated as this.”

• • •

“I have some interesting data,”
Taen announced.
“First, I can confirm your hypothesis that these battles were anomalous, being fought far distant from any known Al’ar bases and not part of any known offensive plan. Look at these two. Nearly in the same location, yet fought seven years apart.

“What could have been so valuable about that sector of seemingly empty space that our forces would defend it so resolutely, as well as all the others?”

Wolfe’s eyes gleamed.
“I can conjecture a better place to begin thinking,”
he said.
“Take those two points and connect them. Project the line out.”

“I have done this.”

“Now take the other battles, and project a line from each of them to intersect with this line.”

“Shadow Warrior,”
Taen said, and Wolfe thought he detected impossible emotion in his voice,
“the intersection point is at the fringes of our sectors, but well within the area of Al’ar control.”

“Worthy of consideration,”
Wolfe said.
“Now, might you not wonder if our Fleets just happened to wander into these areas and were brought to battle because they were on the ‘approaches’ to something
very secret, something that perhaps even the forces assigned to defend them might not be informed of?”

“Such as the planet of the Guardians?”
the Al’ar said.
“You do not have enough data to make such an inference.”

“Here might be an additional piece of data. Can you find out what units were involved in any of these battles?”

“Perhaps.”
Taen’s fingers blurred once more. Time passed.

“Unusual,”
he said finally.
“I can find an order of battle for five of the earlier conflicts, but nothing on the later ones.”

“I find it significant,”
Wolfe said,
“that all records of units can be blanked from the files of a strategy computer. This is generally done only when a formation is involved in something most secret. Such as defending the Guardians.

“Try to find out anything about any of those units, what we call the unit history, which is kept from day to day.”

“Our military also had the custom. I shall try.”

Wolfe watched as Taen again manipulated the machine. Quite suddenly a diagonal bar slashed across the main screen, and Taen blanked away from his search.

“The same cutout for security reasons as when we inquired about the Guardians?”
Wolfe asked.

“Just so,”
Taen said.

“Will you allow that as a second, possibly confirmatory bit of data?”

“I shall.”

“Might it not be interesting to return to our ship
and make periodic jumps down that line, toward that point, to see what we might encounter?”

Taen turned from the “keyboard.” His hood was fully flared.
“You might have found the path, Joshua Wolfe. I hope your thinking bears fruit.”

“Me, too. But let’s look up something else, as long as we’re up to our elbows in Al’ar secrets.”

• • •

“I cannot believe your Command On High placed such a low secrecy value on this file.”

“Why should they have?”
Taen said.
“Now you are thinking like a Terran, not like an Al’ar.

“This information needed no higher a classification than to prevent the casual reader from seeing it. Otherwise, it offered what our leaders thought was a valuable insight into the dishonorable nature of the enemy, something any battle commander might find valuable.”

“I am sorry,”
Wolfe said.
“I stand corrected. But this is in an older form of your language. I have trouble reading it. Would you give me its merits briefly?”

“I shall. This is the summary of what occurred when a group of Terrans who called themselves Chitet secretly visited our civilization, about two hundred Earth-years ago.

“They felt that they were predestined to rule the Universe and wished to form an alliance with the Al’ar to share this power with them.”

“Did the Al’ar know the Chitet had attempted a coup against the Federation about a hundred years before that?”

“They were informed of this by the leader of the expedition. They spent much time discussing the situation with the Chitet and were somewhat bewildered at just what secret powers my race was supposed to possess beyond the obvious, the known.

“These Chitet were equally vague about just what they sought, but said that their projections of future history showed, once the unexpected appearance of the Al’ar was integrated, that nothing in their projection would be altered. Their role as Rulers-to-Be was still a given.”

“What,” Wolfe said in Terran, “was the response to that? Why didn’t your leaders accept their offer? They could always have double-crossed them later. The Al’ar,” he said dryly, “weren’t exactly bound by human standards of fair play.”

“The offer was not accepted, according to this file, for two reasons. The first was that our leaders had not finally determined that war between our races was inevitable. Perhaps that was foolish of them. The second reason is that all traitors are always unreliable. A blade that slips once in the hand and cuts its wielder will most likely turn once more.”

“True. What happened then?”

“The head of the Chitet expedition evinced the Terran emotion called anger, and said if the Al’ar did not change their minds, when the Chitet returned to the Federation they would announce they had discovered secret battle plans for the obliteration of humanity. It is sad, but of course no such plans existed at that time.”

“Now that,” Wolfe said, “was one of the dumbest-assed things I’ve ever heard of. Sit in the middle of the enemy and try blackmail. So that was why all seven of the ships were destroyed and their crews slotted. And these clowns call themselves the most logical folks who ever lived.” He snorted amusement.

“Of course,”
the Al’ar said.
“I will make a side comment here. How can these Chitet be logical, if they, and I use your words, call themselves
most
logical?

“Logic is a condition, an absolute. Can a Terran be a little bit alive? A little bit dead?”

“You’ve never been to some of the bars I have on a Sunday night,” Wolfe said in Terran. He switched back to Al’ar.
“So all these years this must have been working at the Chitet. They valued the war, because they imagined that when it was won by the Terrans, they would be able to find this secret weapon, or whatever it was. And now they’re trying once more. What in the — what can they be seeking?”

“Perhaps we should seek them out and ask them.”

“Perhaps so.”
Wolfe looked thoughtful.
“But we’ve got a line to follow first.”

The
Grayle
banked into the street and hovered as her port slid open. Taen and Wolfe doubled from the shelter of the subway entrance to the ramp and went up it, and the ship climbed away.

“I was observed entering atmosphere,”
the ship reported.
“A robot craft was launched to investigate, according to my sensors.”

“Well, shame on you for getting sloppy. Will the bird, sorry, the craft come within observation range?”

“Negative.”

“Then don’t worry about it. Ship, when clear of atmosphere, assume the electronic characteristics of a
Sorge-
type vessel. I remember that as being in your repertoire. Let’s give the Federation patrollers some confusion if they pick us up.”

“Understood. Request name.”

“I guess it’d be subverting the purpose of a spyship to call yourself the
Philby.
Umm, you’re now the
Harnack.
I don’t think anyone will catch that.”

“Understood.”

“As soon as we’re able, blindjump us away from Sauros. You will be given the coordinates.”

“Understood.”

Wolfe stretched hugely. “Taen, I want a shower, about two pounds of near-raw animal tissue, a decent glass of fermented grape juice, and ten straight hours of sleep. And I’ll kill anyone who gets between me and them.”

The ship answered:
“My sensors report a ship within range. It has not yet detected us but will within seconds. I shall not be able to evade detection.”

“I made a promise,” Wolfe said. “I’ll keep it. Open all frequencies. Let’s see who I’m going to murder.”

Five minutes later the call came: “Unknown ship, unknown ship. Please cut your drive, and stand by for boarding and inspection.”

“Son of a bitch,” Wolfe swore. “The singer’s a little more polite, but I still don’t like the song.”

“The Chitet,”
Taen said.

“Yeah. I guess they’re running their own interdiction out here, as well as the Federation Navy. How many goddamned ships do they have, anyway? Ship, what are the characteristics of the craft?”

“I would identify the ship in question as being a light corvette, Federation-built
, Hamilton
class. It has superior armament, but its performance capabilities when new were inferior to mine.”

“Finally,” Wolfe said. “Something we can just run away from.”

“Perhaps,” Taen said, “that may not be the best idea?”

Wolfe looked skeptically at the Al’ar. “You will have to do some serious convincement to make me believe we should stand and fight a
Hamilton
-class corvette.”

“I think we can devise a strategy for that.”

“So what’s the purpose, besides general piss-off at being chased around so much?”

“In battle,”
Taen said carefully,
“sometimes a war leader can be distracted by the unexpected. Especially when it is aimed at himself and comes from nowhere.”

“Hmm.” Wolfe considered.

“The corvette is broadcasting once more, with the same message,” the
Grayle
said. “What should my reply be?”

“Stand by,” Wolfe said. “All right. Let’s start the ball rolling with your scheme. You can explain as we go.”

• • •

“Unknown ship, unknown ship, cut your drive immediately. We are armed, and will launch missiles unless you obey our command instantly. This is your last warning.”

“Now, this one I’m particularly proud of,” Wolfe said. “Built her all by myself. Watch the third screen.”

He touched sensors, swung a mike down, touched other sensors. One screen showed the computer simulation of the approaching Chitet spacecraft.

The screen Wolfe had told Taen to watch cleared, and the image of a rather handsome woman appeared, wearing a Federation Naval uniform.

“This is the Federation Monitor ship
Harnack
,” Wolfe said, and the onscreen lips moved. “Who is attempting to contact this unit?”

Static blared, then:

“This … this is the exploration ship
Occam
,” the voice said, now sounding unsure of itself. “We are conducting an authorized control of the space around the planet Sauros. We request we be permitted to board and inspect your vessel.”

Wolfe touched sensors, and the woman onscreen frowned in anger.

“I say again, this is the Federation naval vessel
Harnack.
How dare you order a Federation ship to do anything?”

“Please stand by,” the voice bleated. “I am summoning the captain.”

“Occam, eh? Another goddamned logician.” Wolfe grinned tightly, waited.

“This is Captain Millet of the
Occam.
My watch officer reports that you are a Federation naval vessel. Is that correct?”