Virtues of War (22 page)

“Does the admiral not appreciate honest reporting?”

“Of course, but he’s happiest when you agree with him.”

Thomas’s sigh turned into a laugh. “I obviously have a lot to learn.”

“And I know everything about everyone,” she said. “We’ll make a good team, Thomas.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Helena. I appreciate having you here with me.”

She rose. “I’m going to get some writing done before I check on Amanda again. That girl really needs constant kicks in her big butt.”

“Have fun.”

Jack watched Helena depart the wardroom. Thomas sat for a few moments longer, examining the reports on the table before him. When he looked up, his eyes met Jack’s, and the pilot suddenly realized that he’d drifted into view through the servery window.

“Hi, Jack,” Thomas said as he rose to his feet.

Jack quickly grabbed at his snacks.

“Oh, hi, sir,” he said. “Didn’t see you there. I was just grabbing some fuel for Amanda, to keep her going.”

Thomas wandered over and peered into the galley. “Good idea. Thanks for supporting her.”

“Subbies have to look out for each other.”

Thomas nodded, his expression one of easy confidence. Although Jack wasn’t sure if Helena meant her words, he certainly agreed that he was glad to see Thomas again. Although from what he’d just overheard, it sounded like their acting-XO had some bigger problems to worry about.

“The probes are mostly recoverable,” he said, suddenly feeling the need to defend his peer, “and Amanda is making great progress. She’s really smart.”

“She is,” Thomas agreed. “I like her.”

“I just know she gets ridden pretty hard sometimes, and I wanted you to know that any problems with the final reports and papers are because we’re so rushed, not because she’s messing up.”

Thomas’s smile returned, with a mysterious edge.

“I know, Jack. She’s the target this week, but last week
you
apparently couldn’t do anything right. The week before that it was Wong. You all get your turns being demonized by Helena. Don’t worry, I make my own judgements—but it’s nice to hear you defending Amanda.”

“Well, sure.” Jack didn’t quite understand the glint in his superior’s eye.

“We’re getting back to Earth at the end of the week,” Thomas said. “You two should get planetside for a couple of days and relax. Blow off some steam.”

“Yes, sir.”

Thomas laughed. “I’m not ordering you to, you twit. I’m suggesting it. I think you and Amanda would enjoy some quality time on your own.”

Jack finally clued in. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. We’re just buddies.”

“Good—that’s a great place to start.”

Jack shook his head. “Come on…”

“She’s totally into you, Jack. It’s that pilot charm I can never understand.”

“She’s
not
totally into me,” Jack protested.
Who would be, with a plastic face like this?

“I think she might surprise you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to lead her on.” Jack leaned in, glancing past Thomas to make certain the wardroom beyond was empty. “She’s not really my type.”

“Why not?”

He gave Thomas an expectant look, then finally voiced the obvious. “She’s a little chubby.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, a little: so? She’s got pretty eyes, she’s smart, sassy, and she’s totally into you.”

“Well, maybe I’m not into her.”

“Okay, whatever.” Somehow Thomas looked… disappointed. “I just know that guys your age are usually clueless to the subtle hints women throw their way. I know I was.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, sir.”

Thomas shook his head, becoming exasperated. “While you’re at it, keep this in mind, too—a good relationship is based on way more than just looks. Think of our good friend Breeze. Don’t get suckered in by a pretty face.”

Jack nodded and collected up his snacks. That was easy for Thomas to say, with his gorgeous wife. Remembering the amphetamines in his pocket, he decided that maybe he wouldn’t take one after all. He’d stay with Amanda long enough to help her clean off the probes, but she and the drugs could do the rest of the analysis themselves.

The last thing he wanted was to give her the wrong impression.

Kete’s heart skipped a beat as he processed Chuck’s words over the Baryon. His cab descended swiftly toward his destination, but suddenly all his attention was focused on the reporter’s grinning face on the screen.

“You got
what
?” Kete said.

Chuck was positively beaming. “I got access to the Astral Force science ship that’s doing Dark Bomb research. I’m heading there tomorrow, when she gets back into orbit.”

“How the hell did you get that?”

“It’s about who you know, baby.”

“And who do you know?”

“The husband of one of my friends is Astral Force. He’s recently been posted to the ship as their XO, or something. Thomas Kane—that guy who had the garden party.”

And Emmes’s former CO, Kete recalled. Even more reason to get on board. He kept his face neutral, fighting down the excitement churning in his gut. “And I suppose you want a cameraman to come with you?”

Chuck shrugged. “I wish I could, but Thomas tells me it was hard enough just to get clearance for one person. I doubt he could pull off another miracle that quickly.”

The cab glided to a halt on a beautiful, tree-lined street. Kete stepped out onto the shade-dappled sidewalk, Baryon in hand.

“Sorry to hear that,” he said, “but let me see what I can do.”

“You just going to charm your way through the airlock?”

“Something like that.” Facing the front door of the luxury apartment building, Kete glanced up at the third floor. “What time are you cleared to board?”

“As soon as she docks—one o’clock.”

“I’ll get back to you.” Signing off, Kete strolled up to the front door, allowing the security system to read his Terran ID. As an authorized guest he was allowed to enter, and an automatic message was sent up to the third floor to announce his arrival. Very quickly he was up the elevator, and walking down the increasingly familiar, bright hallway to the second door on the left. He knocked.

Breeze stood across the entrance as it slid open, one hand resting against the doorframe and allowing her loose-fitting dress to slip all the way past her shoulder. The garment draped casually to just above her knees, revealing enough of her shapely legs to titillate any other man. Kete noted her appearance coolly, focusing mostly on the genuinely happy smile that lit up her face as she leaned in to plant a full, sensual kiss on his lips. He pulled her closer and returned the kiss, judging his timing to indicate interest, but not to invite an escalation of passion.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, gorgeous.”

She released him only enough to take his arm and walk him into her apartment. It was impeccably decorated, with a pseudo-Centauri style that he actually quite liked. It amazed him how the Terrans could profess to love Centauri fashions and philosophy, and yet so utterly defy both in their daily lives.

The rock fountain built into the corner of her dining room would have been well-suited to the cool highlands north of Kete’s home on Abeona, but it was a shocking waste of resources here in northern Australia. The amount of water pumped through its dappling descent each hour was probably equal to the annual natural rainfall for the entire Longreach region.

But he wasn’t here to philosophize. He was here to play a role and accomplish a mission. He patted Breeze’s buttock as he flopped down on the couch.

“How was your day, Breezy?” he asked. “Did you get any smarter?”

She sat down beside him, curling her legs up and leaning against her hand to gaze at him. “I can’t get any smarter—I
am
Intelligence, but I think I might be even more beautiful.” She batted her eyes playfully.

He grinned. “I don’t think that’s possible either. We have to get you on the network one of these days.”

“I’d love to.” Real interest flashed behind her sparkling blues. “But it would have to be something good.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame you’re a spook, and not a weapons engineer—I might have had something.”

She leaned in, doing well to hide her curiosity behind tracing a playful finger across his chest.

“Really? What was that?”

“You remember my friend Chuck Merriman? He has a gig on one of your ships tomorrow. Apparently it’s been doing work on that Dark Bomb everyone’s been talking about.”

“Oh?” The finger stopped cold. Breeze shifted slightly on the cushion. “How did he arrange that?”

“The husband of one of his friends is on the ship, and got approval. I think the husband—what’s his name? That guy who had the garden party… something Kane—is going to be leading the tour. I’d have loved to have gone along.”

Breeze stared at him intently, all playfulness gone.

“Thomas Kane is being interviewed by Chuck Merriman aboard
Neil Armstrong
tomorrow?”

“Thomas Kane, yeah, that’s it. Who’s Neil?”

Breeze looked away, oblivious to his joke. He watched her carefully, wondering how quickly she’d take the bait. He didn’t know all the details, but he’d deduced that something had happened between her and Kane. Infantile emotions, maybe, but anything could be useful when he was manipulating people of influence. Large egos were often the easiest targets.

She rose from the couch and crossed the room to access a discreet terminal. He pretended to gaze out the window while he tuned in to her terminal interface. He couldn’t always access the military system, but he could always monitor what she was doing.

Breeze quickly checked her calendar, then she sent a few rapid-fire messages to the security commander of Astral Base One and the captain of
Armstrong
. He had to admire her decisiveness, and, he allowed himself a moment of contentment.

He wasn’t bad at quick thinking himself.

“What are you doing tomorrow after lunch?” she asked.

* * *

Kete glanced at his watch, noting that it was precisely twelve-fifty when the dim, charcoal form of the Astral explorer ship
Neil Armstrong
emerged from behind the bulk of the giant Astral Base, on final approach to her exterior dock.

She was more elegant than a typical Terran warship, much like a fattened arrowhead with clusters of sensors protruding from her top and bottom tips, and a cylindrical spine reaching back to a bulb of engines. Even so, her shadowy color and clunky components gave her a brutish beauty at best, with none of the smooth lines and silvery grace of a Centauri vessel.

Already filming, Kete didn’t move his gaze, but he did reach out to place a subtle hand on the small of Breeze’s back.

“Beautiful ship.”

Breeze was at her charming best, looking every bit the confident Astral officer in her undress blues, single campaign ribbon and silver qualification badge popping from the dark tunic beneath three silver bars on each shoulder. She’d chatted and flirted with Chuck during the entire ride up the space elevator, maneuvering aggressively to ensure that she was the focus of the story, and not Thomas.

Chuck, to his credit, wasn’t so easily swayed by a pretty face, but Kete was pretty sure Breeze had won herself at least a cameo. He didn’t care one bit, to be honest. His focus was entirely on the prize before him.

Armstrong
approached the dock with the usual grace of a powerful starship, drifting to rest fifty meters or more off her berth, then gliding sideways into the waiting arms of the various docking clamps that took hold of her hull and bound her fast to Astral Base One. Airlock extensions immediately began reaching out from the dock to mate with their counterparts in the hull, and within minutes the airlock doors lit green and opened.

Chuck smiled and indicated for Breeze to lead the way. As she passed, he let his eyes roam her figure once, then he tossed Kete an admiring nod. Kete patted him in the shoulder and leaned in quietly.

“Like you said, it’s all about who you know.”

He dropped back into Chuck’s wake, playing his usual role as the invisible cameraman. Up ahead, the charcoal-colored hatch of the ship hissed open and the brightly lit airlock beckoned. Kete kept all his senses on standby, just in case there was some sort of security screen, then stepped over the lip into his first Terran warship.

They were met in the wide passageway by a small welcoming party in the same undress blues as Breeze. Kete recognized them from the Kane garden party, but it was interesting to see them all in their natural, military setting. The four silver bars immediately identified the captain of
Armstrong
, Lincoln’s nervous smile lighting up his features. Beside him was a taller man with two bars and a star, Thomas Kane. It was interesting to note the easy confidence of the junior officer, compared to his captain. Kane had twice as many ribbons and qualification badges as Captain Lincoln, as well.

This was a mismatched pair.

Beside Kane stood the science officer, Helena Grey, with a white lab coat over her dark-blue coveralls.

Chuck attempted to explain his intentions, but Kete watched in idle amusement as Breeze, Lincoln, Kane, and Grey all vied for his ear with their specific ideas of how the feature should be conducted. The reporter listened diplomatically, subtly but firmly favoring Kane’s vision while conceding small victories to each of the other officers.

Eventually it was decided that they would first film Captain Lincoln in his quarters, then head to the main laboratory. By the time Chuck had negotiated a consensus, Kete had hacked into the ship’s integrated engineering network and downloaded a goldmine of data about the Terran propulsion system. The concept of accretion drives was taught in Centauri high schools, but to see the inner workings of an actual Terran system—in operation—was a once-in-a-career score.

He duly followed Lincoln, Chuck, and Breeze to the captain’s cabin. There Lincoln chose to be filmed standing in front of his desk, the Science Institute of the Year award from his previous ship displayed behind him. Lincoln’s words tumbled out of his mouth as they set up the shot, but as soon as Kete started filming the man went as wooden as a tree trunk, stumbling over his words and staring blankly at the bulkhead instead of engaging Chuck’s eyes.