Alarm of War

to the waste bin, which was half full of discarded paper towels. He reached into it, groped around and then withdrew a paper towel wrapped around a hard object. He hurriedly unwrapped it, fearful someone else might enter. He withdrew a pair of black glasses with thick lens, identical to the ones he was wearing. He removed his glasses, wrapped them in the paper towel and replaced it at the bottom of the bin. Putting on the new glasses, he returned to his table.

The relief he felt was almost palpable. He had done it. His mission was over. He sipped his beer unconcernedly, not bothering to look around. They were there or they weren’t. God has a plan for us all. Then, knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself, he spread his hands out toward the candle flame and swept them back towards his face. “There are many paths to the Light,” he murmured softly. “And each must find his own.” A deep feeling or serenity and peace flooded through him. He had done all that had been asked of him.

Now let them come.

Chapter 14

P.D. 952

Intelligence Briefing

On Space Station Atlas in Victorian Space

Lieutenant Hiram Brill took a deep breath, stood and walked to the podium. “Good morning,” he said. No matter that he had given briefings twenty times before, he could still hear the tremor in his voice. His audience, the ten senior admirals of the Victorian Fleet Council, stared at him stone-faced. The senior admirals for the Home, Second and Third fleets were there. Home Fleet was permanently stationed in Victorian space; Second, the largest of the three, was assigned to patrol the border with DUC; and Third on a constant series of “courtesy visits” to the other inhabited sectors, a not-so-subtle reminder to everyone that Victoria was the biggest, badest military power in the known universe.

In addition to the Fleet admirals, there were the commanders for Logistics and Personnel, Operations, and Intelligence. The meeting was chaired by Admiral Giunta, the First Sea Lord. Ten admirals all together, staring at one lowly lieutenant.

“Today’s briefing concerns recent developments between the Tilleke Empire and the Arcadian sector,” Brill continued. “As you know, five months ago Emperor Chalabi declared that unless Arcadia sold Tilleke ziridium at heavily discounted rates, he would deny Arcadian freighters transit rights to pass through Tilleke space. Although this is in violation of the Darwin Accords, the Emperor…”

“We are well aware of the history! Tell us something we don’t know, Lieutenant,” snapped Admiral Skiffington, head of Second Fleet.

Brill’s face flushed. He darted a quick glance at Rear Admiral Teehan, head of the Victorian Intelligence Bureau and his ultimate boss. Teehan placidly returned his gaze.

“Of course, Admiral,” Brill said more calmly than he felt. “Under protest from the League, the Emperor has not closed the shipping lanes to Arcadia, but within the last four weeks three Arcadian freighters have disappeared.”

“Yes, yes, we know that, Lieutenant,” Skiffington growled. “Do you have anything new to add, or is this briefing a waste of our time?” He swiveled in his seat to look at Admiral Teehan. “Really, Jeffrey, it’s bad enough that you’ve sent a lieutenant to brief us, but this is old news.”

“Give the boy a chance, Admiral,’ Teehan replied evenly. “There’s more.”

“And the Lieutenant is here at my express order, Admiral.” Admiral Giunta stared coldly at Skiffington. There was a spark of tension in the room. There was little love lost between the two men. Everyone knew that Admiral Skiffington wanted Admiral Giunta’s job as First Sea Lord, and had been actively lobbying with members of the Legislature to get it. Giunta nodded at Brill. “Continue.”

“What has not yet been made public is that tomorrow the Arcadian ambassador will formally protest to the League and petition the League to impose civil and military sanctions against the Tilleke Empire for piracy.”

“Well,” said Vice Admiral Alyce Douthat, Home Fleet, in a mischievous tone, “that should get a reaction from the good Emperor.

“This is obviously a job for Second Fleet,” Admiral Skiffington declared. “After all, Second Fleet has more combat experience than any other Victorian unit.”

The Home and Third Fleet admirals bristled at that remark, but before they could say anything, Brill spoke again. “Forgive me, Admiral, but there is something more. When the Arcadian ambassador makes his request, he will also announce that Arcadia and the Dominion of Unified Citizenry have entered into a mutual assistance pact. Starting immediately, all Arcadian freighters crossing Tilleke space will be escorted by DUC military vessels.”

“Well, well,” muttered Vice Admiral Katherine Penn, Third Fleet. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“That is preposterous,” Skiffington fumed. “Why would Arcadia look to the Ducks, for Christ’s sake! Why wouldn’t they come to Victoria? We’ve got the best fleet and we’re closer.” Left unspoken was that the Dominion had only been involved in one military confrontation in the past few years and had lost to Admiral Skiffington himself.

“Maybe it’s because the Arcadians don’t like us very much,” suggested Vice Admiral Penn. Arcadian freighters had to pass through Victorian space in order to reach at least six of its markets. The Darwin Trade Accords prohibited any tax or tariff on goods being shipped through any Sector, but it did allow for customs inspections. The Victorian Legislature promptly passed a law requiring that all shipments passing through Victorian space be inspected for contraband, hazardous materials and prohibited goods. Victoria had a limited number of customs inspectors, however, and inspection delays could tie up a valuable freighter for four or five weeks. To avoid that, shippers usually offloaded their goods at special customs warehouses, owned either directly by the Victorian government itself or specially licensed private businesses. The slow inspection process meant that a shipper was forced to keep a lot of his goods in Victorian warehouses for weeks, sometimes months. And the warehouse fees were steep. Very steep. The Arcadians had complained for years of the high storage fees, to no avail. Victoria was the central shipping nexus, and it shamelessly exploited it.

“No, I don’t suppose they do,” Admiral Giunta remarked dryly. “But this development means that we will have Duck war ships passing through Victorian space on a routine basis.” He paused, absently toying with his pen. “Kathy, I want you move Third Fleet to Windsor and replace the Second Fleet there.” He shifted to look at Admiral Skiffington. “I want Second Fleet brought back to Victoria and placed in deep orbit around Cornwall. If we need to take action, Second Fleet will be our primary strike force.”

Vice Admiral Skiffington nodded in agreement, smiling broadly.

“Admiral!” the Third Fleet commander protested, “there’s no reason why Third Fleet can’t handle this. From what we know of the Tilleke navy, we-”

Admiral Giunta held up a hand to forestall her. “That’s the problem, Kathy. We just don’t know.” He turned to the head of Intelligence. “Jeffrey, how current is our information on Tilleke technology?”

Rear Admiral Teehan frowned. “It’s not current at all, Admiral. Our latest information on their military technology is at least seven years old. Every time we’ve sent agents in to spy on them, they disappear. No reports, no information. And we have not been able to observe any tests or weapons trials. We know they have a huge development program based on the materials they’ve bought from others, but we just do not know what they have done with it.”

Admiral Giunta turned back to Vice Admiral Penn. “That’s the problem, Kathy: we don’t know what we are up against. Second Fleet is bigger, with newer ships. If there is a shooting war, I want Second Fleet there first.”

Penn frowned, but said nothing. Beside her, Admiral Skiffington looked thoughtful. “If I may, Admiral,” he said pensively. “I know I can come on a little strong about Second Fleet’s abilities sometimes-”

“And all the time I thought you were shy and introverted,” Alyce Douthat said in mock astonishment. A dry chuckle sounded around the table.