smuggling contraband. They'd sell their mothers for a buck. I think it's that simple. They see the upside, and we both know it's huge. With the Feds on the ropes, there's not much downside for them. We'll need to keep a lid on this, though. If the Feds find out before it's a done deal, they could still make things difficult.'
'I agree. We'll hold off briefing the rest of the council for the time being. What's the next step?'
'Well, we have agreement on the main principles, so now it's down to the details.'
'How long?'
'Hard to say, Chief Councillor. Agreeing on the time of day with the Pascanicians is like negotiating with a barrel of snakes, so it's not going to be easy, but I'd say year's end at the latest. I've agreed with Minister Felgate that we'll work toward a December meeting between you and the Pascanician president to tie up any loose ends. Provided we can, I think you'll be able to sign the treaty there and then.'
'That's doable?' Polk said, doubt creasing his forehead and narrowing his eyes. Solomatin did not do the Pascanicians justice; they were worse than a hundred barrels of snakes.
'Yes, it is,' Solomatin said, radiating an easy confidence. 'Most certainly it is. Believe me, Chief Councillor, those greedy sonsofbitches want this every bit as much as we do. We stand to gain what we want and more, but so do they.'
'Year's end,' Polk said. 'I think that would be most satisfactory. Of course the Feds will find out, but when they do, it will be far too late. Well done, Councillor, well done.'
'Thank you, Chief Councillor,' Solomatin said. Saturday, August 4, 2401, UD FWSS Redwood, in pinchspace en route to Nyleth-B
'How are you feeling, sir?' Ferreira said.
'Not so tired… you know…' Michael's voice trailed off into silence. He was lying, of course; he felt drained to the point of exhaustion.
Redwood's executive officer nodded. 'I know,' she said. 'I've been thinking about what you told me. I have some questions for you.'
'Okay.'
'First, is Anna that important to you?'
Michael sat bolt upright, anger flooding his face. 'What do you mean, is Anna important to me? Are you going to tell me I should just walk away, let Hartspring's goons-'
'Steady, sir,' Ferreira said, her voice calm, reasonable. 'I'm not the enemy here. I'm just trying to understand things, okay?'
'Ah, okay,' Michael said, slumping back in his chair, the anger gone. 'Sorry, Jayla.'
'No problem. So is she? That important, I mean.'
'Yes, she is. From the day I met her back at Space College, I've known that she's the one I want to spend my life with. In this whole screwed-up universe, she's the only one who means anything. So yes, she's important, more important than my life, my career, this ship, Fleet, everything.'
'Even the lives of your crew?'
Michael's eyes narrowed; he looked at Ferreira for a long time. 'No,' he said eventually. 'That is the one exception. No, Anna Cheung is not more important than the lives of my crew.' His face twisted into a bitter smile. 'I haven't lost the plot, Jayla.'
Ferreira smiled back. 'I never thought you had, sir.'
'Let me put it this way, Jayla. If it takes my life to save hers, then that's the way it'll be. I won't allow Colonel Hartspring to destroy Anna because of me. I can't. For some reason, this whole fucked-up war has become personal, who the hell knows why. The Hammers hate me so bad, they'll do whatever it takes to get their hands on me. For chrissakes, I'm just a damn lieutenant doing his job, so why me? Don't they have better things to do with their time? Anyway, who cares why? The plain fact is that Anna's got nothing to do with any that, and I won't let her pay with her life for whatever it is I've done to piss off the Hammers. Simple as that.'
'I guess that answers the question,' Ferreira said quietly. 'So why haven't you told the brass? If you came clean, maybe they'd let you turn yourself over… if that's what you want.'
'Hell, yes. It's exactly what I want, but there's no point even asking. My security clearance is way too high. I know too much. I'd never get approval.'
'Thought so,' Ferreira said with a frown. 'What about neurowiping?'
'Not an option. Apart from my neuronics, everything of value to the Hammers is in long-term memory, so I'd need a full neurowipe, which nobody in the Federated Worlds will give me. The law's clear: Without a court order following a conviction for a criminal offense, full neurowiping is illegal.'
Michael paused to rub eyes gritty with accumulated stress. 'Chicken and egg. I need to get off the Worlds to find someone to neurowipe me so I'm no longer a security risk, but I can't get off the Worlds because I'm a security risk.' He laughed, a short, bitter sound devoid of any humor. 'Anyway, turning yourself over to the enemy in time of war is desertion. I don't think the admirals will be too keen to agree with that. No, I'm screwed, Jayla, and because of me, Anna's dead. The only woman I've ever loved, and she's going to die because of me.'
'Not sure that's true, sir,' Ferreira said. 'There may be another way.'
'Another way?' Hope flared in Michael's eyes for an instant, and just as quickly it died. 'No, Jayla, there's no other way. If I'm not at the Hammer embassy on Scobie's by October 1, Anna's dead. The problem is I cannot see how, and believe me when I say that not a minute goes by without me trying to find a way.'
'Rescue?'
'Fleet will never go for it even though we know where the Hammers are keeping Anna.'
'You know that?'
Michael nodded. 'I do. Anna's one smart woman. She encoded the information in her monthly vidmail. The survivors from Damishqui are in Camp J-5209, southeast of the Hammer capital, McNair, along with the crews of the rest of the task group destroyed in the Salvation operation. What's left of them, that is. Know how many made it to the lifepods, Jayla?'
'No, sir.'
'Bit over four hundred spacers and marines. That's all that's left from eleven front-line ships thrown away in a pointless operation.'
'That was a bad business,' Ferreira said. 'My sister's husband lost a cousin. He was an engineer on Unukalhai. Poor bastards never had a chance.'
'No, they didn't, Jayla, but that's the price we pay for not standing up to our politicians. Anyway, we digress. Knowing where Anna is doesn't help us much. Breaking her out of the camp is feasible, but getting her and the rescue force off-planet is not. It's impossible. Anyway, it's all academic. Fleet will never buy it, not with the pressure on them at the moment. They don't have the ships to spare. Even if they had, why would they? In the end, Anna's only another spacer. They wouldn't care what happened to her. To be fair, they can't.'
'Umm,' Ferreira said, eyes half-closed, finger to lips tapping out her concentration. 'Umm… let me see… yes, based on what you've told me, the only option is a one-way rescue mission.'
'One-way?' Michael demanded. 'What do you mean, one-way?'
'The rescuers don't try to get off-planet. You are dead right. A rescue operation might be able to get past the Hammers' orbital defenses; it would never get back into space. Never. So they break Anna and everyone else out of J-5209 and head for the hills. The latest intelligence summaries say the Hammers' disloyal opposition-the New Revolutionary Army and their political wing, the Nationalist Party-is beginning to have some success. I'm sure they'd be happy to look after the rescue force.'
'I'm sure they would, Jayla,' Michael said. 'They looked after me when I was on the run after Ishaq was destroyed. The NRA's not the problem. The problem is how long the rescue force has to stay dirtside. Who knows how long this damn war will drag on? We're stalemated, and that looks like how it's going to stay. Fleet's saying what, five more years? So who'd want to be trapped on Commitment with a bunch of raggedy-assed guerrillas for that long? Maybe even longer-who would know? I've been there once, and that was enough, I can tell you. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone.'
'Tell you what, sir. Leave it to me. There are things I need to do. Can we pick this up later?'
'We can, Jayla, we can. Anything I need to do?' Michael asked, all too aware that he had in effect dumped command of Redwood and the rest of the Nyleth squadron onto Ferreira's shoulders for the moment.
'No, sir,' she said with a broad grin. 'All under control. Redwood's sweet, the troops aren't bitching any more than usual, the Hammer guests are quiet, and the marines are happy doing whatever the hell it is marines do when
