Extremis (30 page)

Naturally, their course did not take them past the island-sized orbital fortresses that guarded the warp point leading to Baldy-occupied Bellerophon. Not even Trevayne was about to expose them to the risk of an incursion that might, after all, happen at any moment. Besides, they wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the minefields, which were so thick around that warp point that the space there could no longer be accurately described as vacuum.

Now their shuttle settled down onto its landing struts on the hangar deck and extended its disembarkation ramp with a hum. Trevayne stepped forward as the sound system broke into the Rim Federation anthem—the kind of uninspired neoclassical farrago typical of such compositions—and the honor guard of Rim Marines in dress forest-green tunics and black trousers came to attention.

“Welcome to Astria, Mr. Prime Minister. I trust your journey went well.”

“Thank you, Admiral Trevayne,” said Khalid Mulvaney with a not-altogether-steady nod: military reviews were affairs for which his background as an economist had ill prepared him. “Yes, everything went on schedule, although of course the trip was a long one…and what we’ve seen here has been rather, ah, overwhelming.”

“You must be quite fatigued, sir,” Trevayne commiserated. “I’ll have you escorted to your quarters at once.”

“No, no, Admiral. I think we’re quite able to complete the introductions.” Mulvaney proceeded to introduce the members of his war cabinet who had accompanied him. “And in addition, we have with us the Chief Justice, with whom you have…er, ahem, worked closely in the past.…” He trailed to an awkward halt.

And he thinks
he
feels awkward
? Trevayne’s heart did not precisely overflow with sympathy. He gave the soft salute appropriate for a civilian lady, then smiled at the woman who could have been the great-grandmother of his current physical self. “Hello, Miriam.”

The Honorable Miriam Ortega gave the smile that Trevayne had first seen almost nine decades before on the face of a woman in her thirties. Nine decades, that is, as she had experienced time. Nine decades during which she had served five tenures as prime minister of the Rim Federation and borne two sons, both of whom were now older—in terms of elapsed consciousness—than Trevayne himself, for whom his first glimpse of that smile lay only a few years in the past.

She hadn’t been a conventional beauty even then, and now she looked a well-preserved near-seventy despite all that anagathics could do. But that smile had transfigured her face then, and it still did. And for a split second, it was as though he could glimpse the woman with whom he had fallen in love, such a short time ago to him and such a long time ago to the rest of the universe, including her.

“Hello, Ian.” It was still the same husky voice. But the moment passed. Trevayne doubted he’d cease to experience such moments, especially on seeing her after an extended absence. But they were growing less frequent, and now he slipped painlessly back into the new, different relationship they had established in his new life. They were both too sane to have done otherwise.

Mulvaney must have sensed something of the sort, for he cleared his throat again. “And finally, Admiral, we are honored to have with us Dr.—and retired admiral—Genji Yoshinaka, Senior Trevayne Fellow at Prescott Academy.” The prime minister’s lips quirked upward at the title of Yoshinaka’s chair at the Rim Federation Navy’s academy. “The cabinet has co-opted him as an advisor. He is, I understand, another old associate of yours.”

“Indeed he is—not to mention one of the few other natives of Old Terra still running around loose out here.” Trevayne grinned and extended a hand to his one-time chief of staff. “Genji, why the hell did you make them bring you along? You’ll kill yourself off before your time.”

Yoshinaka looked up—almost a foot up, to meet Trevayne’s eyes and smiled tremulously. He was coming to the end of the anagathic regimen’s capabilities, but his eyes still sparkled. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Admiral.”

Trevayne gave him a glare whose sternness neither convinced nor was intended to convince. “Well, it would serve you right if this jaunt finished you off, after the ‘quote’ you let the Rim Federation put on the pedestal of that bloody statue of me while I was getting freezer-burned and couldn’t stop them.
Terra expects that every man will do his duty,
indeed!”

“I
told
you I tried to convince them you’d never said that! But as you know, these colonials tend to get their historical figures confused. And besides…why don’t you just admit that you love it?”

Just outside the range of Trevayne’s vision, Miriam Ortega barely managed to smother a guffaw. That sound was probably what enabled Trevayne to keep a more or less straight face.
“Well,” he said
with a final bogus glare at the unintimidated Yoshinaka, “Mr. Prime Minister, permit me to introduce Fleet Admiral Waldeck, commanding Second Fleet.”

“Admiral Waldeck.” Mulvaney returned Waldeck’s military salute with a formal inclination of his head, as was proper. Somebody must have briefed him. The briefing had doubtless included Waldeck’s background. But Trevayne decided to risk repetition, for it was worth underlining Second Fleet’s character as an allied force.

“As you know,” he explained, using the standard formulation for telling one’s political masters what they
ought
to know, “Admiral Waldeck belongs to the Pan-Sentient Union Navy but has been seconded to the Rim for some time. This background has been an incalculable advantage to him in commanding what is increasingly an allied fleet.”

“Yes, I’m sure. And we’ve just seen how amply the other members of the alliance have contributed to the buildup of forces here. I’m told that Second Fleet now has more total tonnage than most of the fleets of the Fourth Interstellar War.” Mulvaney’s voice held a note of awe. The armadas that had been assembled to extirpate the Arachnids a century and a half before had passed into legend.

“Actually, Mr. Prime Minister, that’s not the half of it,” said Waldeck, whose social background was such that he was unlikely to be overawed by political officeholders, however exalted. “Today’s technology can pack incomparably more destructive power into a given tonnage of warships. My staff has prepared a series of informational presentations for you on the subject.” Mulvaney looked slightly apprehensive, which Waldeck ignored. “But for now, we have prepared a reception in the wardroom, where you can meet the commanders of the allied contingents.”

This was a moment Trevayne had anticipated with a certain amount of concern. Not much concern, to be sure. Genji was an old hand at dealing with aliens, and Miriam had some experience at it. But the fact was that the Rim Federation was an essentially all-human polity. Most, if not all, of the cabinet ministers had probably never met a nonhuman.

Still, they handled Least Fang Zhaairnow’ailaaioun very well. By then, they had gotten drinks. Besides, being from the Pan-Sentient Union, Zhaairnow wasn’t just any ally: he was practically family. And the Orions’ felinoid appearance (a pure accident of evolution; a Terran oak tree was more closely related to a Terran cat) gave them a certain spurious familiarity; they looked deadly but not really weird.

The same, to a lesser extent, was true of the vaguely birdlike Ophiuchi. And the heavily-built, hexapedal Gorm at least had fairly similar faces. But then came the commander of Task Force 23, the only component of Second Fleet that was truly foreign in the sense that it represented a power not connected to the PSU’s network of associations and alliances: the Terran Republic. And that commander was, of course, human.

Yet it was with her that Mulvaney displayed his first real uneasiness. Which, Trevayne, reflected, was to be expected. Between him and Li Magda there was no gap of biology, but a yawning one of history.

“Ah…it is a pleasure to meet you, Admiral Li. Be assured that the peoples of the Rim Federation will never forget the help offered to us by the Terran Republic in our hour of need, in spite of…er, that is, even after…” Mulvaney trailed to a miserable halt.

“Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister,” Li Magda said with great solemnity. “And we are pleased to extend that assistance—now that it has been accepted.”

Trevayne, standing behind the flustered Mulvaney, gave Magda what he hoped was a quelling glare over the Prime Minister’s shoulder. This was hardly the time to rake up the earlier ill-advised attempts by the Rim Federation—with its traditional
more Terran than the Terrans
attitude—to avoid accepting help from the “rebels.” The fact that Li Magda was her mother’s daughter didn’t make it easier.

Miriam Ortega stepped forward, rescuing Mulvaney. “Perhaps you remember me, Admiral Li. We met at the reception on Xanadu, when you stopped in the Zephrain system on your way here.”

“Of course, Madam Chief Justice. I recall that reception vividly. It was where I met Admiral Trevayne.” For an instant, their eyes met.

For that same instant, Miriam Ortega noted just exactly how their eyes met.

“Well,” she said
after a barely perceptible pause, “I want to take this opportunity to offer you my somewhat belated congratulations on your promotion to vice admiral.”

“A very well-deserved promotion,” Trevayne said heartily. He turned to Mulvaney. “As you know, Mr. Prime Minister, Admiral Li’s heroic holding action in the Third Battle of Bellerophon not only enabled many Rim and PSUN units to extricate themselves from the Bellerophon system, it also strengthened the alliance by placing the Orions under a debt of honor to an officer of the Terran Republic—a very serious matter under their code of
theernowlus
.”

“It certainly is,” interjected Yoshinaka. “In fact, it may have helped reconcile them to being forced to sit here in the Astria system marking time, which comes even less naturally to them than it does to us.”

“I’ve been meaning to bring up that subject,” Mulvaney interjected, as though glad to be back in his element. “We’ve just seen the awesome—and very expensive—power of the Allied fleet here in Astria, Admiral Trevayne. But it doesn’t seem to be doing much of anything.”

Trevayne groaned inwardly. Hadn’t anyone told the man
anything
? “Surely you know—” He caught himself just in time and rephrased it. “As you know, Mr. Prime Minister, the grand strategy proposed by First Space Lord Li Han of the Terran Republic—and approved by every allied government, including that of the Rim Federation—calls for Second Fleet to hold position here in Astria, making only occasional probing raids into Bellerophon, while the fleet of devastators and the paired Kasugawa generators are prepared.”

“You do not understand the political difficulties, Admiral. The taxpayers of the Rim are being asked to bear a heavy burden and are not being shown any tangible return for their money. With this tremendous force, surely you could—”

“Launch another frontal attack like Second or Third Bellerophon?” asked Yoshinaka, breaking in as Trevayne could not. “You might recall the losses we suffered on those occasions, Mr. Prime Minister, while we’re on the subject of expense.”

“Perhaps, Mr. Prime Minister,” said Trevayne hastily, “an introductory strategic briefing, in general terms, would be in order at this time. Cyrus…?”

“Of course, Admiral. The full presentations can wait until our guests have had a night’s sleep, but my staff is prepared to review the big picture at any time.”

“Splendid. Let’s adjourn to the briefing room. Genji, you come, too. Miriam, would you like to—?”

“Goodness no, Ian. You
know
how hopelessly unmilitary I am.”

“Yes, I seem to recall hearing you mention it once or twice,” Trevayne deadpanned. “Well, Mr. Prime Minister, shall we go?” He, Waldeck, and Yoshinaka led the somewhat overwhelmed Mulvaney away.

Miriam Ortega watched Trevayne go. Then she turned her thoughtful gaze on Li Magda. “Admiral, I’d love to continue our conversation. Will you join me in my stateroom?”

“Certainly, Madam Chief Justice.”

“Miriam, please. Let’s snag a couple more drinks first.” She gave Trevayne’s retreating back one last glance before he vanished into a lift tube, then turned back to Li Magda. “I think we need a strategic briefing of our own, dear.”

11

Illumination, Yet Shadows Before

Coming events cast their shadows before.
—Campbell

Punt City, New Ardu/Bellerophon

When Ankaht came in, Jennifer knew the news was good, because she’d learned how to read the aliens’ body language.

That skill had been easier to acquire than Jen had anticipated. Since the Baldies—or “Arduans”—seldom used their bodies as a medium of expression, it made almost any variation in movement noticeable. The variations were simple and few enough that Jennifer had been able to memorize what each one signified.

In this case, Ankaht’s unhurried pace, the relaxed set of her eyelids, and the motionless lesser tentacles of both clusters collectively signaled “no anxiety” just as clearly as if she had sent that message by
selnarm
. Indeed, Jennifer was suddenly struck by how much her own perceptions of Arduan kinesiology had changed: originally, their stillness had seemed ominous. Now their minimal movements seemed anything but machinelike or unemotional. Their gait was—well, she decided,
serene
might be the best word. Because there seemed to be a greater range of motion and flexibility in their “elbows” and “knees,” Arduans seemed to glide as much as they walked. And once the strangeness of their appearance subsided—along with any fears of harmful intent—they were actually rather wonderful to watch: graceful and sinuous but without any overtones of being snakelike.

Ankaht sat, opened her
selnarm
slowly, expressed her (pleasure, gratitude) to find Jennifer’s mind ready to attempt to receive hers; it still took effort, and they spent as much time resting as they did conversing. But now, when she rested, Ankaht usually remained in Jennifer’s room, and they sat together in companionable silence, usually with Zander affixed to Mama’s breast. Interestingly, little Zander enjoyed feeling Ankaht’s smooth, pliant skin—once Jennifer decided to give in to his obvious curiosity. And, in her turn, Ankaht was not only delighted when Zander reached out to touch her, but radiated a luminous (hope, joy, bond) that made Jennifer almost believe that maybe, just maybe, they could stop this war. Because that was their joint project now.