Tactical Error (18 page)

That was the problem that Velmeran faced, complicated by the fact that he
really did not have the time to spare on any complex plans. He needed to get
in, find Lenna, and get back out again in a hurry. He still had to stand the
Republic on its head and get a pack of petty tyrants out of power, before they
did something unforgivable to his people. He was fighting two wars now, and he
only hoped that Lenna did not have something to show him that would demand
precedence. Then his life was going to get impossibly complicated, and they
might have to start the revolution without him.

He stopped pacing and looked up to see that the entire bridge crew was watching
him expectantly. He knew what they were waiting for. It was time for Velmeran
to do something bold and unexpected, and save the day. He had a lot of days to
save in the time to come, but he had no magic schemes to suddenly make the
impossible happen. This time, he was going to have to do things the hard way.

He glanced up at Valthyrra’s camera pod. “I need for you to get
in touch with Bill. Tell that mechanical moron to keep quiet until the two of
them are someplace where they can talk without being overheard.”

“Right, Chief,” the ship agreed uncertainly.

“And use the achronic channels,” he reminded her.

“At this distance, I would anyway,” Valthyrra said, then
remembered that the Union had no way to intercept achronic transitions.
“Right away, Chief.”

“I was hesitant when you had Bill fitted with an achronic
transceiver,” Consherra said, stepping down from the middle bridge to
join him. “It has had its uses, I must admit, but I worry about the Union
getting their hands on it.”

“Do not tell Lenna, but Bill also has an automatic self-destruct
triggered to detonate if he is dismantled or tampered with past a certain level
by anyone he does not know,” Velmeran said quietly. “Besides, they
get their hands on our technology often enough. So far, they have never been
able to reproduce it.”

“Bill says that they are alone in their apartment,” Valthyrra
interrupted. “Lenna Makayen is standing by.”

“Their apartment? She says that this is the end of civilization as we
know it, and the two of them have set up housekeeping in the middle of a secret
Union installation,” Velmeran commented as he ascended the steps to the
commander’s station on the upper bridge, swinging himself into the seat
with the overhead supports. “Lenna? What are you doing?”

“Talking to you?” her voice returned through his private com.

Velmeran rolled his eyes. “Smartass. What have you found down there?
Are you ready to come up to the ship, or do we really need to come down?”

“I think that you really should come down, if you can at all manage
it.”

“Is that going to be easier said than done?”

Lenna had to think about that for a moment. “Commander, the bad news
is that this is a very, very large base. The good news is that the place is all
but deserted. Things have been hopping here, but that came to a sudden end
right before I arrived, and they are still in the process of shutting down
their operations. This place is going back to sleep, but there is still quite
enough for you to see. I think that you should see this for yourself. You might
see something more in it than I do.”

“Lenna, things are very bad out here,” Velmeran said. “We
now have a whole new war to fight.”

“You have just lost both wars, if you do not get down here.”

Velmeran sat back and saw Valthyrra looking down at him, her camera pod
moved well back into the upper bridge. He thought about it only briefly.
“Lenna, could you arrange a distraction?”

“I just love distractions. Can I make a really big one?”

“Do you have something in mind?” Velmeran asked.

“There is all manner of havoc down here, just waiting to
happen,” she replied. “I could find something to entertain myself
easily enough.”

“How soon? We need to get this done.”

“Get in your fighters in two hours and be ready to move as soon as
things begin to happen,” Lenna told him. “I will have Bill tell you
where to find me when you get here.”

Velmeran sat back, looking up at Valthyrra. “That girl worries me. She
reminds me of a bomb with a very eccentric detonator.”

“Well, yes,” Valthyrra agreed uncertainly, then glanced up
hopefully. “Of course, she is also very efficient.”

“What about that time two years ago? She stole a bulk freighter, then
scattered its entire cargo of magnesium canisters overboard in the path of the
Union fleet following her as if they were space mines. At a quarter light
speed.”

“Yes, there is that. Then again, it did work.”

“A major freight lane is useless because two-thirds of the things are
still floating around out there,” Velmeran reminded her as he pulled
himself out of his seat. “Have Baressa and my special tactics team ready
for flight, including accessory cannons on the fighters. Three fighters and a
transport should be quite enough. Any more than that and we will just be
getting in each other’s way. Have all the other packs standing by, also
with accessory cannons. Yourself as well. I will determine what I can about the
situation, and then we will simply blast that installation out of
existence.”

“You plan to go along?” Consherra asked, waiting for him as he
descended the steps from the upper bridge.

“I suppose that I have to,” he answered. “Lenna seems to
think that this is very important, and that I should see it for myself. This is
another dragon that I am going to have to face myself and look straight in the
teeth.”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. At that very moment the lift door
on the right side of the bridge opened, and Venn Keflyn loped in. Her
dragon’s form with a spider’s abundance of arms and legs was
encased in her own white armored suit, in most ways like the suits worn by the
Starwolves, her neck and tail encased in flexible sheaths of overlapping
plates. Although her primary duty on board the Methryn was instruction in the
psychic arts and ancient history, she was also an occasional member of
Velmeran’s special tactics team. She seemed an unlikely addition to that
group, but she was full of more tricks than Lenna Makayen.

“I think that I should go along,” she explained simply before
anyone could ask.

“So I see,” Velmeran commented, staring. “Could I ask
why?”

“Because I really think I should?” she suggested, running that
answer by a second time to see if it was good enough.

Velmeran closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Oh, sure. The more the merrier. I really thought I should go,
too.” He turned to Consherra. Do you think you should go?”

“Really?” she asked incredulously. “You never ask me out
any more.”

“Do you want to go?”

“No. I still remember the last time.”

“Good. I need you to watch the ship.”

“The ship is quite old enough to take care of herself,”
Valthyrra remarked tartly.

“I am going to put on my business armor and check the condition of my
fighter,” Velmeran said as he turned away, indicating to Venn Keflyn the
direction of the lift. “So, what do you think? What could cause the end
of civilization as we know it?”

“That depends upon how you define civilization,” the Aldessan
explained in a scholarly vein as they walked slowly together toward the lift.
“You define civilization as one thing, and your enemies as another. To
truly understand that question, you must first ask yourself what your enemy
believes that civilization means to you, and then how he would attempt to
destroy your concept of civilization.”

“I doubt very much that Donalt Trace entertains any thoughts of
defeating me with philosophy. He believes in things that go
bang.”

“Yes, there is that.”

Lenna Makayen had to think, and she had to think quickly. She had to find
some way to distract the Union base from repelling the unexpected arrival of a
pack of Starwolf fighters. Ideally, that distraction should be enough to keep
an entire base the size of a city from even being aware of the arrival of the
Starwolves. That made the answer seem simple enough. She had to arrange an
accident that would take out the installation’s surveillance coordination
system, particularly that part which correlated scanners and the defensive
systems.

That was a really good idea, but she had never found that particular section
of the base.

Unable to do the damage she wanted, Lenna had to consider other
distractions. The best solution seemed to be something that would frighten
Union Command, something that would threaten to be very nasty if it got out of
hand, something that would draw a lot of attention to itself and cause a fair
amount of concern and confusion. Considering the rather stripped and deserted
condition of the base, there were very few alternatives. She would have to do
something with the warehouses or adjacent underground hangar bays that were
still in use.

Once she determined that, matters became fairly simple. There was one little
supply and munitions freighter that had her name on it. Actually, it was named
the
Fireflower,
but that was close enough for her purposes. It seemed to
Lenna that a small explosion and fire quite close to that ship would make the
locals very nervous for some time. The explosion of the ship itself would take
out the entire freighter bay complex. She did not consider that very likely,
but she would not worry if things did get out of hand.

Accompanied by Bill, she took the trams through the installation to the
freighter bays. They had been in the heart of enemy territory for some time
now, and the complete lack of trouble they had encountered had bred a certain
lack of concern on her own part. This was an uninhabited world in a remote
system, a fact that had apparently led to a complete lack of suspicion among
the base personnel. According to simple logic, no one could possibly be here
who did not belong. She had taken advantage of Bill’s enhanced ability to
interface with the simpler Union computers to have herself established in the
roster as a technical support lieutenant and even assigned a very nice
apartment in officer’s territory. Her rank and area of specialty gave her
the run of the base, credentials that she could now prove beyond any doubt.

“What about it, Bill?” she asked as they took the tram to the
hangar bay. “Do you think that we should set a fire beside that
ship?”

“No,” Bill answered, simply and frankly. She glanced at him.

“Why not?”

“It is not safe.”

“Then what do you think we should do?” she asked.

“We should do that. It is safer than other things.”

Lenna sat back in her seat and sighed. “Why do I even talk to
you?”

Bill’s diligent little processors contemplated that very question for
several well-considered nanoseconds. “Because you have no choice.”

The tram transversed many unseen kilometers deep beneath the ice and rock,
through the maze of corridors that Lenna was beginning to know very well and to
detest with a passion. She had been wandering about in this warren of high
technology with a fairly high degree of impunity, having realized very early on
that security was almost non-existent on the inside. Once the Starwolves
started on their way down, things were going to become very different in a
hurry.

Lenna paused to look about. Fortunately all Union military installations
were perfectly alike in one respect; the instructions were written on the
walls. She sometimes wondered if they built these things from kits, with
everything labeled. She followed the arrows down the corridor for a few dozen
meters and entered a wide door on her left, finding herself on the observation
deck overlooking the hangar bay. The freighter filled the nearer half of the
bay, surrounded by shipping crates stacked together in small groups.

“Munitions?” she asked.

Bill stepped up close to the window, aiming the lenses of his cameras at the
scene below. He had the advantage of telescopic vision, with the ability to
computer-enhance a frozen image that was too far away for simple optics to
identify clearly. “Not many munitions. Those groups of long crates
nearest the ship’s middle bay doors are labeled as missiles. The
remainder are standard personal supplies and environmental stocks.”

“Like paper?” Lenna asked, in a tone of voice that indicated she
had something in mind.

“Paper supplies are stacked well to one side, presumably to reduce the
risk of fire,” the sentry explained. “One group is labeled as
personal paper supplies.”

“Personal?”

“Very personal,” Bill explained. He was a very discreet machine
indeed. Lenna wondered about that. He had been rebuilt and programmed by
Starwolves, who were not entirely discreet.

“That might be a very good place to start,” she commented to
herself, then turned to the sentry. “Shall we go and have a look, my good
automaton. Lead the way.”

Although there were crews on the deck, she saw no more than half a dozen or
so cargo handlers. Lenna elected that a bold assault was probably the best
course. She doubted that anyone would cast a suspicious thought at a technical
officer in the company of one of their own automated sentries. Sneaking about
was out of the question. One thing that Bill had never learned to do at all
well was to sneak successfully.

The shipping crates were stacked neatly near one wall, well away from the
front of the ship or any of the major corridors leading into the bay.
Everything looked very promising, so far. The crates themselves were of light
plastic, not the metal for heavier cargo, and their tops were locked down by
simple spring clips. Lenna checked the labels on the ends of the crates and
chose one that indicated the paper products that Bill had succinctly described,
releasing the clips to look inside.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” she commented, then glanced at Bill.
“I’ll be all right. You go over to freighter bay twelve and see
what you can do about opening the overhead doors. You’re to go ahead and
guide the Starwolves down when I send you the word, whether I can get there
before they land or not. We are going to have to move quickly when things
start.”