The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy (27 page)

Saahren stood. “You go with Tyne, Allysha. I’ve arranged for accommodation.”

“You’re off to be the admiral, then?”

He let the note of derision slide off his shoulders. “I have to tread carefully. My body double is on this ship in my place. We need to swap without being noticed.”

“Oh.”

“So, I’ll see you a little later on. But before we leave here.” He stopped. She was going to hate him.

“Give me your techpack.”

Her head jerked up. “Why?”

“Please.”

She glowered, brows knitted. “What do you think I’ll do? Mess about with your weapons systems?”

“I don’t knowwhat you will do. But I know what youcan do. I can’t take a risk.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I do. But I don’t trust you not to play because you can. This is a warship.”

She gaped at him. “You want me to marry you, but you don’t trust me. Excuse me if I don’t get it.”

“I love you. But I have responsibilities, too. I cannot let my feelings overrule my judgment.”

The look on her face morphed from anger to contempt. It burned his heart but he set his feelings aside.

He had a job to do.

She took the techpack from her belt and handed it over. “When do I get it back?”

“When I feel I can trust you with it.”

“Oh, so I can’t buy it back? Maybe sleep with you?”

The words cut like a knife. He raised the shutters in his soul that had protected him all his life.

****

“This is your suite, ma’am.”

The door opened at a touch. Allysha entered a large and well-appointed sitting room. A three-seater

sofa and two chairs in dark blue leather were ranged around a central low table of dark colored wood. A large cabinet of the same wood stood against the wall. The room’s deep pile carpet was a few shades

lighter than the chairs. A couple of tasteful prints—scenes from worlds she didn’t recognize—hung on the walls. Through a door to the right she glimpsed a large double bed. On the other side, another doorway led to an office. It contained a desk with a HV unit, a swivel chair and no doubt all the access required for the IS.

A bath, a change of clothes and some food. She dropped into an armchair in the spacious living room

feeling drained, empty. Music. She needed music. She asked to hear Orrensaa’s third concerto. Its

plaintive strains echoed her mood.

She’d go home; home to Shernish, to her house on the hill. The pain would fade. Brad Stone’s face

would become a half-remembered sketch. She squirmed with embarrassment whenever she thought

about how gullible she’d been, how easily he’d duped her. And how little she really knew about him. Not that she cared; of course she didn’tcare . But there wasn’t anything wrong with a bit of curiosity, was there?

“What do you have on Admiral Saahren?” she asked the ship’s IS.

The IS gave her an illustrated run-down of the man’s military career, starting with him receiving an award for coming top of the course at the military academy. He looked very young, tall and gangly, yet to fill out the width of his own shoulders. But the eyes were the same. Maybe not quite so hard.

The documentary moved on, listing the ships he’d served on and in what capacity. He had collected two decorations for bravery. The first time as an ensign he led a party sent over to inspect a ship that turned out to be carrying contraband. The crew turned nasty when they realized they’d been caught. Although

he was wounded and one of the team was killed, Saahren had taken control of the ship. The second

time, he risked his own life to rescue crew trapped in a damaged compartment. He’d been a lieutenant, in his mid twenties. He had filled out, no longer a gangly kid and his face had acquired the stillness, that trade-mark authority that was so evident in him now.

Arcturus moved on to Saahren’s first command (a patrol ship) then a frigate, then a cruiser. Promoted to captain, then to admiral—

“I want to know abouthim ,” Allysha interrupted. “Where was he born? What’s his birthday? Where

does he live? Is he married? How many kids?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, all of those things are classified as private. I’m not permitted to divulge private information.” The regret in the IS’s modulated voice sounded genuine.

She gritted her teeth. She could go and find out anyway. Saahren hadn’t realized she didn’t need the

techpack if she had direct access to a data point. But if she did that and he found out? After a moment’s hesitation, she tossed her head. What if he did?

Allysha sat down in the chair behind the too-large desk in the suite’s office and concentrated on the data point in the bulkhead, linking her implant to the data highways. She swayed as the sheer size and

complexity filled her mind with colored lines, interfaces, logic gates. Wow. The security was impressive; nothing like she’d ever seen before. Just as well she had the tricks she’d learnt from the InfoDroid on Tisyphor. A challenge. How to get in without anybody knowing. First things first; what security layers were there, and who could do what?

Saahren dealt with the necessities first. He had his implant reset and took back command of the fleet from Admiral Valperez. He gave his senior staff a brief explanation of the events on Tisyphor and what had happened subsequently. That included Allysha’s presence, of course, and while he described her

remarkable talents with information systems and all things ptorix, the private part of their relationship he kept to himself. He had an uncomfortable feeling that one or two of them deduced a little more than he told them. But they were guessing. He fielded a few questions, then raised a hand.

“That will do for now, gentlemen. I wish to see if our guests are comfortable.” He returned the salute automatically, choosing to ignore a few barely-swallowed smirks.

Tyne and Grallaz would be fine and his body double had been moved and confined to quarters for the

trip to Malmos. Allysha. He hesitated at the door of her stateroom. He hadn’t expected such vehemence from her over the techpack. But he’d done the right thing. Of course he had.

Arcturus announced him and he stepped inside. She sat on the sofa dressed in the grey pants and shirt ordinary crew members wore, bare feet propped on the coffee table. He longed to settle down beside

her, take her in his arms. But her eyes raked over him, her lips set in an unwelcoming line.

“Are you comfortable? Is there anything you need?”

She shot him an almost contemptuous glance and looked around the room. “Yes, I’m comfortable. It’s

just like a hotel suite. How couldn’t I be comfortable? Is your swanky apartment in Malmos like this or is it better?”

Her words slammed into his mind. “How do you know I have an apartment in Malmos?”

She shrugged, pretending defiance but her eyes flickered. “You must have mentioned it.”

“No. It means nothing to me. I rarely use it.” She’d seen the data; she must have. But how?

“Well, it’s a reasonable guess.”

She’s lying. She’s lying to me.A tendril of anger rose from his gut. “No, no, Allysha. You’re not

guessing. How do you know?”

“I must have seen it somewhere.” She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.

He stepped closer. “Did you see it on the IS?”

She tossed her head. “Maybe. I don’t remember.”

“If you saw it on the IS, you must have seen it on my personnel file. That’s restricted. Maybe two or three people on this ship can see my record.”

She swallowed and the skin around her eyes tightened a little.

He put facts together in his head, that feeling he had when she concentrated that she wasn’t physically there, the way she sometimes seemed to know things before she pulled the techpack off her belt. “You

haven’t been completely honest with me, have you?”

He waited but she didn’t say anything. His lips tightened. She’d fooled him. Him. Idiot. He’d let her get past his defenses. Love is blind, they say.

“No? Well, let’s see if I can work it out. You need the techpack in places where there is no data point.

Perhaps a non-technical person like me could call it a pocket InfoDroid. You can connect directly with an IS through a data point but you keep that secret, pretending to use the techpack. Am I right?”

Allysha folded herself up in the chair and pressed her fist to her mouth.

Rage exploded in his chest. He strode two steps across the room and stood over her. “Answer me.”

She jerked as though he’d struck her. “Yes.”

The anger evaporated like mist. Stupid, stupid. He sank down into a chair and rested his chin on his fist.

He was being unreasonable. He had no right to bully her, she had only protected herself. And what to

make of this—it was unexpected. If he’d been concerned about the safety of the systems on his flagship if she had the techpack, what now? And she’d proved she could get into anything she wanted. He could

bet her incursion wouldn’t show up in the logs.

“It’s easier with the techpack. It has functions I can use, tools. But I can do without it if I have to.”

She’d unwrapped herself a little but her tone was hesitant. “I was curious. I just wanted to find out about you.”

He leaned back and put his arms on the armrests. And now he’d bullied her. How could he repair that?

“You could have asked. You have only to ask.”

“I wanted to know if you’d lied to me. Besides, aren’t I allowed to know where you live?” Some of the defiance was back.

He shook his head wearily. “I’ll take you there. You can live there.”

She frowned and rubbed one arm with her hand, up and down, up and down. “No. No, you won’t. I

just want to go home. I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish it would all end, or that I’ll wake up and find out it was all a horrible nightmare.” Her lip trembled and her eyes were brilliant. “What are you going to do with me now? Put me in a cell? Yes, I can get into any of your warship’s systems. I won’t. I found out what I wanted to know.”

“That’s my choice, isn’t it?” he said softly. “Either I trust you or I lock you away.”

He could have the IS in this suite physically disabled but if he did that, she would have no access to entertainments, news, communication. He might as well put her in a cell. And if he did that, what chance that she would co-operate with him, let alone anything else? He’d been a fool, a pompous idiot driven by the need to appear unbiased, even to himself.

“All right,” he said at last. He took the techpack from his pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry. Of course I trust you.” He grunted. “I’m even a little disappointed that you didn’t tell me about this

astounding talent before.”

He saw the look on her face, the lifted eyebrow, the slightly curled lip. “Well, not me; Brad Stone. I thought you rather liked him, trusted him.”

“He never existed. He was a dream. And I trusted him as much as you trusted me.” Her eyes glistened

and she turned her head away.

He took a deep breath. “If you want to talk about dreams, think about nightmares, think about your Tor friends who died on Brjyl, or think about what van Tongeren wants from you, or the rioting and

bloodshed between Tors and humans. Please, put any perceived animosity behind you. Let’s get this

crisis ended.”

She caught him with her brilliant green laser stare. “Did my data help?”

He smiled. “Oh, yes. It certainly did. It proved the argument quite conclusively. Here; let me show you.”

He sat down on the sofa next to her and asked the IS to load the evidence.

Arcturus’sIS woke Allysha from forgotten dreams. “It’s nearly time to go, Allysha.”

She sat up and stretched cramped muscles. “Go? Where?”

“You’re to join Admiral Saahren on the trip down to Malmos in half an hour.”

“Malmos? Are we in Melchior orbit?”

“We are. You have time to shower and change.”

“Flip. Guess I’d better.”

She headed for the shower, shedding clothes as she went. The hot water revived her and she squirted some shampoo into her hand.

“Do I have time to pack?” she said as she lathered.

“Your belongings will be packed for you. Would you like some food before you leave?”

Allysha rinsed her hair. “If there’s time. Just a sandwich and some kaff.”

She switched on the drier and turned her body to catch the warm air. Half an hour, wasn’t that typical of men? “Fancy leaving me with only half an hour to get ready.”

“Admiral Saahren thought it best to let you sleep for as long as possible.”

She snorted. “Huh. Just shows what he knows about women.”

She was ready when Saahren came, but only just. “You could have given me some warning.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I gave you half an hour.”

She sniffed. “You’re lucky I made it.”

He led her to the transit, down to the battle cruiser’s hangar bay and into an airlock where another officer waited beside a shuttle.

“This is Senior Commander Butcher, my adjutant,” Saahren said. “Butcher, Miss Marten.”

Allysha nodded and smiled at a man about Saahren’s age, not so tall, pale skinned, with a chunky build and brown eyes. She wasn’t sure what an adjutant was but this man had a lot less gold on his shoulder boards. She followed Saahren up the ramp into a carpeted passenger compartment. Ten comfortable seats stretched down either side of a central passage. Saahren directed her to sit across the aisle from him in the front row, with Butcher behind him. She sat quietly as the cabin went into the familiar routine for take-off. Who’d have thought a few months ago that space travel would become second nature to her?

The shuttle dropped down into the atmosphere and toward the cloud-shrouded city. The upper floors of the taller towers looked like the stacks off the coast near the cliffs at Shernish, vapor surging around the buildings in the same way that waves crashed around the rocks.