Ark Royal (52 page)

He sat back as the giant carrier turned back towards Earth, her starfighters flying past
Ark Royal
in welcome.  They’d made it.

They were home.

Chapter Forty

“You will not, I suspect, be pleased to learn that the media is besieging the Admiralty Building in London,” the First Space Lord said.  “Word of your exploits – and the capture of an alien ship – has leaked out and the world has gone crazy.”

Ted nodded, keeping his mouth firmly closed.  He would have bet good money, after meeting the PR staff assigned to the reporters, that the Admiralty had deliberately allowed the news to leak.  The human race needed good news and
Ark Royal’s
successful cruise through alien territory was the best they’d had in quite some time.  He had no doubt that the Admiralty would successfully minimise the simple fact that they'd come within bare millimetres of absolute disaster.

“The major interstellar powers have also contributed to a prize money fund,” the First Space Lord continued.  “I dare say your crew will be happy.”

Ted nodded, feeling an unfamiliar twinge of gratitude for British diplomacy.  Ten percent of the prize money went to him, ten percent went to the Marines and the remainder was shared out evenly among the crew.  With contributions flowing in from all over the human sphere, even the lowliest crewman could look forward to becoming an instant millionaire.  Taxes might have been raised to help fund the war effort – prize money wasn't tax-free, unfortunately – but they would still be quite wealthy.   Not a bad outcome, he knew, for a crew that had been scraped together from officers and men the Admiralty couldn't be bothered to discharge.

“Yes, sir,” he said.  “And the former prisoners?”

“Most of them came from Vera Cruz, as you summarised,” the First Space Lord said.  “The remainder came from the handful of smaller colonies the aliens hit and destroyed.  Their families have been informed, but they’ll be remaining in custody for the moment.”

Ted couldn't disagree, even though he knew it was cold.  The former alien POWs would require time to decompress, time to recover from their ordeal ... and most of them had yet to purge the alien drugs from their systems.  On Earth, they would receive proper medical care and, when they were ready to talk, sympathetic ears.  Being held captive was bad enough, Ted knew, even when the captors weren't alien monsters.

Or maybe humans would have been worse
, Ted thought. 
Apart from the drugs, the human captives were unhurt
.

He sighed.  The alien POWs had been moved to a secure facility on the moon, where a mixture of military and civilian researchers would attempt to unlock the secrets of their language – and their biology.  If they could talk to the aliens, they might figure out the truth behind this senseless war ... and determine if there was a way it could be ended without one side being completely crushed.  But Ted wasn't hopeful.  None of the doctor’s work on the aliens had managed to crack even part of their language.

“I will confess,” the First Space Lord said, “that I had my doubts about you.”

Ted kept his face expressionless, somehow.  Had Fitzwilliam told the Admiralty about Ted’s near collapse back into drunkenness?  Or had the First Space Lord merely had his doubts from the start, despite recognising that Ted was uniquely qualified to command
Ark Royal
?  It seemed quite likely.

“You were a drunk, put bluntly,” the First Space Lord continued.  “I fretted, even when it seemed that
Ark Royal
would be nothing more than an escort carrier or a backstop, before we learned the truth about the alien weapons.  And when you had to take the ship into battle ...”

He shook his head.  “You have proved yourself,” he admitted.  “When the chips were down, you made the Royal Navy proud.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ted said.  He knew it wasn't entirely true.  If Fitzwilliam hadn't caught him before he could drink himself into a stupor, the entire cruise would have ended very differently.  “I did my best.”

“You did,” the First Space Lord agreed.  He nodded over towards the display.  “But the war isn't over.”

Ted followed his gaze.  Two more star systems had joined New Russia in red, occupied by the aliens, while another three had been probed by alien forces.  The aliens might not have dared go straight for Earth, but they’d weakened humanity still further.  It was impossible to escape the feeling that the war was very far from over.

“It will take us at least a year to produce the new battleships and armoured carriers,” the First Space Lord said.  “We’re trying to rearm a number of older ships that were converted into colonist-carriers or heavy bulk freighters, but that’s an uphill chore too.  The aliens may still hold the whip hand.”

“So we go back on the offensive,” Ted said.

“Soon,” the First Space Lord said.  He looked down at his desk for a long moment, then up at Ted.  “When the time comes, it had been agreed” – he paused, significantly – “that you will command the offensive.”

Ted wondered, absently, just how many deals had been cut to make that possible so quickly.  Few of the interstellar powers liked the thought of having their starships serve under another power’s command, no matter how closely allied they were.  And Ted’s previous command had been shot to pieces, with
Ark Royal
the only survivor.  He was surprised that any other power had been willing to agree to let him take command.

“We’re short on heroes,” the First Space Lord said, when he asked.  “Blame the reporters, if you like.”

Ted rolled his eyes, inwardly.  He'd only caught a couple of newscasts between debriefing sessions, but most of them bore little relationship to reality.  One of the reporters – who hadn’t even been on
Ark Royal
– insisted that Ted had led the boarding party in person.  But if he had, the Royal Navy would have congratulated him and then removed him from command.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, finally.

“Don't thank me,” the First Space Lord said.  “Your life is about to become a great deal more complicated.”

“As long as I keep
Ark Royal
as a flagship, I don’t mind,” Ted said.

The First Space Lord smiled.  “Congratulations,
Admiral
Smith,” he said.

***

James couldn't help, but be mildly bothered by the summons to Nelson Base.  Between debriefings and supervising the repairs to
Ark Royal
, he simply didn't have the time to spare.  But the summons had left no room for objections, so he’d boarded the shuttle and made his way to the giant space station.  Inside, it was no surprise when he was escorted to a private briefing room.

“My official weblog states that I am in a meeting with a design team leader,” the First Space Lord said, as soon as the hatch had hissed closed and locked itself.  “We don’t have much time.”

“Yes, sir,” James said.

“Admiral Smith,” the First Space Lord said, taking a seat.  “Is he suited for independent command?”

“Yes,” James said, without hesitation.

The First Space Lord looked up.  “Are you sure?”

James kept his expression as blank as possible, even though the First Space Lord was probably used to reading people more inclined to deception than James.

“Yes, sir,” he said, finally.  The Captain had come alarmingly close to a relapse, but disaster had been averted ... and he’d managed to get his ship and crew home.  And he’d captured an alien starship in the process.  “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

The First Space Lord nodded, impatiently.

“Captain Smith is responsible for the destruction of a number of alien carriers, along with smaller ships, the recovery of over two hundred former captives, the capture of thirty-two alien POWs and, last but not least, the capture of an intact alien starship,” James said.  “By any standards,
Ark Royal’s
cruise through enemy-held territory was the most successful naval operation since Trafalgar.  We successfully gave the enemy a bloody nose.”

He paused.  “We might not have succeeded in liberating New Russia,” he added, “but that wasn't part of our mission orders.”

The First Space Lord sighed.  “Blame the media,” he said.  “They expect perfection – or nothing.”

James nodded, silently grateful that the reporters were off the ship and tormenting someone else.  They’d certainly helped promote the Captain – but they’d also raised the uncomfortable question of why New Russia hadn't been liberated.  At least the Russian government had been smart enough to understand that the planet couldn't have been liberated, at least not without an unacceptable level of risk. 
They
weren't fuelling the flames.

The First Space Lord looked up at him.  “I believe that Captain – sorry,
Admiral
– Smith has proved himself,” he added.  “But I will still require you to keep an eye on him.”

“Sir,” James said, carefully, “can I ask why?”

“Two reasons,” the First Space Lord said.  “First, he will be placed in command of a multinational fleet ... and he was not the most capable officer at building connections to the foreign starships.  This time, the other commanders will not be from minor powers.”

James nodded in reluctant understanding.

“Second, because fame and fortune may well go to his head,” the First Space Lord added.  “As his Flag Captain, you will be in position to advise him – and to report any problems before they become public.”

“I don't like it, sir,” James said, twisting uncomfortably.  “With all due respect, sir, you’re asking me to act like a spy.”

“You
have
been acting like a spy,” the First Space Lord pointed out, coldly.

“Yes, sir,” James said.  “And I didn't like it.”

“You don't have a choice,” the First Space Lord told him.  “The war isn't over – and the deciding moment may come to rest on Admiral Smith.  When it does, I want you to ensure that he’s ready to handle it.”

James hesitated, but knew there was no real choice.

“Yes, sir,” he said. 

***

Kurt couldn’t help a thrill of excitement as the taxi made its way back to his home, even though he was nervous about seeing his wife once again.  He'd rung ahead and asked the children to stay home from school, despite the probable anger of their teachers.  He just couldn't wait to see them again.

The house was dark and cold when he opened the door, until he stepped into the kitchen.  Inside, Molly, Penny and Percy greeted him, the two teenagers throwing their arms around him and hugging him tightly.  Molly – and a young girl he assumed was the home help – seemed a little more standoffish, but he hugged her anyway.  A pang of guilt, as sharp as a knife, echoed through him as he remembered everything he'd done with Rose.

“Welcome home, dad,” Penny said.  She pushed him towards a chair, then produced a sheet of paper.  “I did very well on my exams.”

“Well done,” Kurt said, grinning like a madman.  His kids were fine, his wife ... well, she wasn't entirely fine, but at least she wasn't shouting and throwing things at him.  “And you, Percy?”

“I’m going to apply to the Academy next year,” Percy said.  “I can go, with your permission ...”

Kurt swallowed.  “Later, son,” he said.  He knew it wouldn't be easy to convince Molly to agree – and he wasn't going to write any permission slip without her consent.  “Later.”

The home help stuck out a diffident hand.  “I’m Gayle,” she said.  She was tall and muscular, reminding him of a handful of female servicewomen he knew.  “I’ve been looking after your kids for the last two months.”

Kurt frowned.  Hadn't there been another girl? 

“She's practically been living here,” Penny said, crossly.  “I can't get away from her.”

“Good,” Kurt said, unsympathetically.  He ignored the whining about how Gayle put a crimp in Penny’s social life.  Constant supervision was probably good for her, even if she wasn't going out and having fun with her friends.  “You have to get high marks in your exams or your social life will take a disastrous fall.”

Penny looked sulky, but cheered up when Molly brought out the cake.

Afterwards, when the teenagers were in bed, he spoke to Molly.  “What happened to their schooling?”

“The school said that it wasn't going to expel children from military families,” Molly said.  “But I don't know how we’re going to keep them there.”

She shook her head.  “Penny acted quite badly for months,” she explained.  “I had to practically thrash her bottom red to stop her driving the teachers mad – and that was with supervision.  I don't know what I would have done if she’d been expelled.  As it is, we don't even have the money to keep them there past the end of the year.”

Kurt smiled.  “Prize money,” he said, and produced the cheque from his pocket.  “We can keep them there for a few years, if necessary.”

Molly stared at the cheque, then shook her head in disbelief.  “Where are you going now?”

“Luna Academy for several months,” Kurt said. 
Ark Royal’s
fighter wings would have to be rebuilt from the ground up, so the Admiralty had decided his experience would be better used in teaching new trainees how to fight the aliens.  He couldn't fault them – and besides, getting leave to visit Earth would be much simpler from the moon.  “It’s not as ... sexy a job as CAG, but it will keep me nearby for a few months.”