Riss Series 3: The Riss Survival (15 page)

Pavao was first to speak, "Sir, I've known Captain Reese for almost two years. No one, including myself, would have treated the clans with the respect she has. And in my opinion, no one could have gotten the cooperation and results she has. They respect and trust her and have gone out of their way to earn her trust."

"Wattson, Stenberg?" Plimson looked towards them.

"Based on the Mnemosyne alone, I'd want the Riss as allies. And from what I've seen and heard, they have demonstrated their loyalty many times. Inherently, I wouldn't trust the clans, which supports what Pavao implied. But then, neither I nor anyone else would have gotten the results from them that Reese did. And I don't have a solution, but I can understand her desire to have her status clarified," Stenberg said.

"I agree with Stenberg, in general. And I like the idea of having a SAS detachment of Scorpions and Sharks on board the Riss ships. It reinforces the ally relationship. Oh, and I'm glad it's not my decision." Wattson said, smiling.

"Reese, I'm beginning to think you're my dybbuk. I had planned to return to Eden tomorrow, but I can't make these kinds of decisions on Eden. I'd like to tour Freeland, talk with the elders, and visit the facilities, including the area designated for the Riss. Arrange it. I assume everyone would like to come along?" He looked around the room and received nods from everyone. I stood when Plimson did. Pavao and Corbitt were smiling when I left for my shuttle.

In the shuttle, I collapsed in my seat and nodded to Terril as she entered.

"That was a ten-knot performance."

"The match isn't over yet."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Plimson visits Freeland

I arrived on Freeland, fifteen minutes before the shuttle from the Bateleur carrying the Admirals was due to arrive. As I exited, Ni'Shay was standing there with Pavao and Corbitt.

"Welcome, Captain Reese. The elders thank you for allowing them on the Mnemosyne. It's truly a ship of the space gods. And we, the clan, helped to build it."

"Yes, and I'm hoping you are going to build several more, and maybe ... who knows what may come of it."

"I'm sure you do, dybbuk. We elders are content to leave it in your hands." Ni'Shay gave a small bow. I turned to Pavao and Corbitt.

"I see you are early, too," I grinned.

"I try not to antagonize Admirals. They keep space doss lists, which are best to avoid," Pavao said. Corbitt nodded agreement. When I looked up, the Bateleur's shuttle was coming in for a landing. Admiral Plimson strode out first, followed by Stenberg and Wattson. Ni'Shay greeted them, and we were escorted into the clan's shuttle and flown to the administration building were the elders were waiting. After everyone was seated and served drinks, Plimson stood.

"I'd like to compliment you on the building of the Mnemosyne. It's truly the spacecraft of the future, although no one but the Riss can operate it. Admirals Stenberg and Wattson and I are interested in seeing Freeland, partly because Captain Reese has made some suggestions, which require me to make the kind of decisions anyone, in authority, hope never to have to make in our careers. I sometimes think she's my dybbuk." He paused and looked around the room to agreeing nods.

"We understand completely, Admiral. We believe she already knows the answer, but want us to think we thought of it," Ni'Shay said.

"I wouldn't doubt that. I'm hoping the tour will help me decide or, at least, give me time to think."

"Unless you have a specific place to start or go, I thought we would start at the assembly plant. The second Riss cruiser, the Eirene, is being assembled. After some small talk, everyone was directed to the awaiting ground vehicles. It was a short ten-minute ride in the long, luxury car-like vehicle.

Inside the plant, large, partly assemble parts, coated in a black material lay scattered around four large warehouses.

"What you see is the shell of the Eirene. We are getting ready to transport it to the repair station where it will be assembled," Da'Maass said. "Next we are going to visit our new Research and Development section, which we had to create to meet Captain Reese's vision."

Another ten-minute ride brought us to a long, concrete building. Inside they were shown a sample of the material and explained its composition and the reason it was so hard to detect with conventional sensors. Over the next several hours, we visited the panel, wiring, and environmental manufacturing plants.

The following day, the tour included the missile, engine, and computer manufacturing plants. And the day after, we were given a tour of the city, ate at local restaurants, and talked with a variety of the citizens. Although the average person's dress was colorful, much like I'd imagine the gypsies of old wore, the people were well educated and modern in every other way. The next day we visited the area the clans had set aside for the Riss.

"What do you think about having the Riss on Freeland, Ni'Shay?" Wattson asked, as we flew over the area, which was too wild to tour on foot or by car.

"We love the Riss. Many of us come out here and spend time getting to know them. They look terrifying, but they are a gentle people. Although Riss have been killed fighting the clan, they hold no ill feelings towards us or we towards them. They fought to defend themselves, not for revenge, and are happy we are at peace. We consider this area belongs to the Riss—forever if they want."

"Yes, perhaps in time we humans can come to think like they do," Plimson said quietly, as though talking to himself. "Ni'Shay, I thank you for the tour. It has been interesting and enjoyable. Reese, Pavao, and Corbitt, I'll expect you tomorrow at ten hundred hours."

The ride back to the shuttles was quiet. Each of us had plenty to think—or worry—about.

I had met Lt. Commander Bradshaw at Hephaestus and we had become lovers, but our careers precluded us from seeing each other except on rare occasions, when our duties found us in the same place. But Thalia was right. Thoughts of our time together were a pleasant diversion from what would happen tomorrow.

* * *

"Well, Reese, what do you think Admiral Plimson's decision will be?" Pavao asked the next morning as we sat in the Bateleur's conference room waiting for the Admirals. "He certainly got the grand tour and seemed to be interested and enjoyed himself. I've given it a lot of thought, and I'm not sure what I would decide. I've spent a lot of time with you and feel I know you well, and I've worked with the clans, although I doubt I understand them like you do. But you're asking some tough questions. I wouldn't want to be in Plimson's shoes. Of course, he gets paid the big bucks to put up with you." She snorted and Corbitt broke out in a laugh as Plimson and the others entered. We shot to attention.

"Having a good time, Captains? Obviously you don't have enough to do," Plimson said as he sat. "Well, maybe I can help."

"Reese, is Ni'Shay right? He claims you're their dybbuk and know what's in their minds before they do. Are you my dybbuk? Do you already know my decision?"

"No, sir. My considerations concern this station, the Riss, and Freeland. You have responsibility for the security of the SAS, for the impact to the navy, and the pressures of the SAS elected officials. Each decision you make has consequences that potentially impact one or more of those responsibilities. No, sir. I can't imagine the complexities of the decisions relating to the problems I've asked you to address." That was the truth. I knew where I thought the Riss and the clan should go, but that was easy. The present was a little harder. But the impact on the SAS was beyond me.

"You've given me another one of those career making or ending decisions. This time though some of them are beyond my ability to make. For example, I can't amend the Treaty with Freeland. Even to suggest an amendment would take years to enact. There's too much politics involved." He paused to take a few sips of his kaffa. "I have discussed your issues with Admirals Stenberg and Wattson. They've given me the benefit of their years of service, but in the end, I have to be responsible for the decision—fool or genius—depending upon how it works out. It would be forty-five for and fifty-five against if it weren't for the fact that you have always come through for me. Therefore, here is what I can and will do:

One: I will sign a Treaty with the Riss Nation to provide mutual support and cooperation, to include military defense and technology. This will include the money to build a total of four Riss cruisers in exchange for any and all hardware and software technology they develop.

Two: The Riss and the SAS will share responsibility for managing the Freeland Treaty. Because of the duel responsibility and your relationship to the Riss, you will remain the station commander and are authorized to use the Mnemosyne as your command ship.

Three: I will authorize a squadron of ten Sharks and detachment of fifty Scorpions to serve on Riss cruisers as part of our Mutual Defense Agreement. They are detached to support our mutual interests, but they do not report directly to you.

Unofficially, and not part of this agreement, I will authorize refitting the Bobcat and Merlin with the enhancement Captain Pavao has suggested. If that is successful, we will use Freeland, at least in the short term, to begin upgrading the SAS cruisers. Captain Pavao is in charge of those upgrades." Plimson sat back and smiled. "You know, Nadya … Admirals do not like to be disappointed."

I gave him a weak smile. Ironically, it was Plimson's decision, and he was responsible; however, the issue was far larger—the fate of three nations rested on the outcome. Before I could say anything, Stenberg interrupted.

"Reese, I was impressed by the Mnemosyne and Freeland. I fully support the agreement with the Riss and you as the station commander based upon what you've accomplished. But Freeland makes me nervous. Failure to keep them in check could undo everything, including your career." He stared hard at me, as if to emphasize the potential for disaster.

Plimson spoke before I could reply. "I understand you need to certify the Shark and Scorpion personnel. The gods know it won't take but one or two bad apples to cause a disaster. So the Bateleur will remain on station while you certify enough personnel to crew the Mnemosyne and the … ?"

"Eirene, sir," I said. "The Goddess of Peace. Sounds ironic, but the Riss are a peace-loving nation and will only participate in war to stop violence—never out of hate or revenge."

"As new cruisers and personnel arrive on station you can continue to certify additional members as Riss certified for detachment on Riss cruisers. Before I leave I will decide who will command the
Lynx
."

I had gotten everything I could have hoped for, but now that I had, I wondered if I could live with what I got. I left that evening, ecstatic and terrified.

* * *

The next day I asked Colonel Seng and Commander Byer to join me in my conference room. I included Iglis, Varisko, and the Riss-humans, Alena, Jaelle, and Elissa. I was standing in the room with a drink when they began arriving, to avoid the formal call to
Attention
when I arrived. As each entered, I waved them to the sideboard Pillon had prepared. I'd doubted I'd ever get used to having my own private valet. After everyone had settled down, I began.

"Good morning. The scuttlebutt has probably suggested the reason for this meeting, but just in case you were in Regen and didn't hear, I thought I'd bring you up to date." I paused for a sip of kaffa.

"The rumors go anywhere from you're being removed to you're being promoted to admiral," Byer said with a grin but his eyes showed some concern as did everyone in the room.

"Interesting. With a stretch, both would be true—" Multiple questions interrupted me before I could continue. I raised my hand and the room quieted. "Sorry, that was thoughtless. The Admirals were pleased with the Mnemosyne after they got over how ugly it looks." That produced smiles and snorts. "They have authorized Captain Pavao to begin modifying the Bobcat and the Merlin to accommodate the applicable Mnemosyne technology. I remain the station officer in charge at my current rank—so I haven't been fired or promoted." As I looked around the room there appeared to be a collective sigh of relief, which made me feel good about the changes I would be announcing.

"Admiral Plimson has signed a Mutual Support Agreement, MSA, with the Riss, recognizing the Riss Nation as a military ally. That means the Riss will share its technology, which they have always freely done, and the SAS and the Riss agree to mutual military support. As part of the MSA, he has authorized a Intelligence unit, a detachment of ten Sharks, and fifty Scorpions on each Riss cruiser."

The room exploded into conversations, which I let run their course. Soon embarrassed faces looked back at me.

"Admiral Plimson has agreed to stay five extra days so that we can interview interested personnel for certification as qualified to serve on Riss cruisers. I would like to view certification as belonging to a unique group, like Scorpions serving on Hunter cruiser versus Wasps serving on other cruisers. We want people who view the Riss as allies."