Battlecruiser Alamo - 7 - Battlecruiser Alamo: Sacred Honor (9 page)

 The airlock opened, and a man’s head peered through it with a gleaming smile, wearing a khaki jumpsuit, “Looking for a Commander Forster?”

 “Right here,” Orlova said. “I’ll want a full report on the repair schedule when I get back,” she said to Carpenter. “Keep pushing Price.”

 “Have a good trip, ma’am,” Nelyubov said, managing a smile. “I’d like to get down there myself.”

 “Rank hath its privileges, Lieutenant, but we’ll see what we can do.” Stepping into the cramped shuttle, she said to the pilot, “Let’s get going, then.”

 With a nod, the pilot threw a series of switches, and the lock door began to close. He settled into his couch, activating control surfaces, and pointed towards the spare seat to his right.

 “Hope you don’t mind flying up front. We’ve got the aft section configured for cargo; the Boss is trying to get some supply dumps set up down there or something. I’m Vijay, by the way, the best damn pilot in the system.”

 “Every pilot thinks that.”

 “In my case it’s quite true.” With a loud crack, the shuttle dropped away from Hercules and began to head down towards the planet; Vijay was nursing the thrusters to a gentle, constant acceleration. “Say, you don’t need a spare pilot on Hercules, do you?”

 “If you’re that good, why aren’t you in the Fleet already?”

 Barking a laugh, he replied, “Failed the last stages of the reliability test. I couldn’t take any of those questions seriously; I’m just in this for the flying. Maybe I’ve done this approach once too often.”

 Yes, and maybe you are a plant sent here to try and get me to confess something, Orlova thought. She glanced across at the pilot; his hands danced around the controls with the careless concentration of the truly experienced, making minor adjustments as they began to broach the upper limits of the atmosphere.

 “There isn’t much I can do if you won’t take the screenings seriously, I’m afraid.”

 “I figured if there is a big battle coming up, you might want everyone you can get.”

 Shaking her head, she replied, “Even ship captains can’t override the top brass. You know that.”

 “How’d you get to be a captain, anyway? You don’t look any older than me.”

 Orlova barely managed to suppress a smile, managing to reply, “Flattery will get you everywhere. I always did look young for my age.”

 The planet below was coming fully into view now, a brown and red wasteland with scattered belts of green,
thin
slivers of blue cutting into the endless deserts, the view punctuated by the occasional white cloud. Vijay pulled the nose up, and flickering flames began to appear as the shuttle entered its re-entry cycle.

 “I just want to get away from here for a while. I know this is a good posting, and I’m like the Boss – I like to get a breath of real air sometimes, but there are some many stars out there to see.” He turned to her, flashing a grin, “I guess I’m just a born tourist. I’d probably be complaining if I had got onto one of the starships, stuck in hendecaspace for days at a time with nothing to do.”

 “What’s Sandveld like?”

 “Dry, mostly. Lots of fertile spots though, and it’s possible to grow crops. Not that anyone much bothers with that, though the ground station grows a few bits and pieces for luxury trading. I think we’re here to make sure no-one else is. Some ruins out in the wilds if you like that sort of thing, I heard a team came out a while ago to take a look. None of it means anything to me.”

 “Where?”

 “Hell, the guides will give you a better idea than I can. I’m just a taxi driver.”

 “Guides?”

 Vijay chuckled as he adjusted his flight path, sweeping the shuttle high over a mountain range with a flick of his control stick, “Some of the ground crew set themselves up. We do get the occasional visitor, usually someone who wants to collect a pelt. Got to be a bit of a fad a few years ago.” He pointed at a red dot on the horizon, “There we go. Crashlander Base.”

 “Crashlander?”

 “First one to land here – the Boss’s grandfather – messed up his approach and was stranded here for a month before a new shuttle could be sent. If he hadn’t found an inhabited world, they’d probably have just left him here. I’ve got to concentrate on my approach now, we’re getting a bit of a crosswind.”

 Orlova watched the pilot make his approach; the ground base didn’t look like much from the air, just a collection of prefabricated huts scattered around a long runway, a few fields and a couple of wrecked shuttles placed neatly by a hangar, evidently being scavenged for parts. A few figures were wandering around, and a large trunk was racing down the runway to meet the shuttle as it touched down, its wheels bouncing a couple of times on the surface before it slowly slid to a stop. Vijay reached over and popped the side hatch, dry, dusty air blasting into the cabin.

 “All safe and sound, Commander,” he said. “I’ll be down here overnight getting all of the stuff in the back unloaded, so I’ll take you back up tomorrow. Scheduled takeoff at 0700.”

 “Thanks,” she said, sliding out of the shuttle onto the ground. The air was good, crisp and clean, if a little hot; no matter how good the life support systems were, they still couldn’t match real air, even if this was on a world dozens of light-years from Earth. A man wearing a white uniform walked over to her, dust splattering the bottoms of his trouser legs.

 “Commander?” he said with an unusual twang. “I was told to expect you. I’m Durman, I run this place.”

 “A pleasure to meet you,” she replied. “Thanks for having me.”

 “Always good to meet new people,” he said. “I understand you want to take a trip into the outback?”

 She hefted her carryall, and said, “That’s the idea. Not sure about the hunting, but heading out into the wilderness sounds like it might be fun.”

 “It might sound like fun, but it isn’t. It’s not a controlled environment out here; there are plenty of wild animals that haven’t learned that humans don’t taste good yet.” Gesturing to a series of mounds at the end of the runway, he continued, “A few people have found that out the hard way.”

 “I’d still like to take a look for myself. Can I take a vehicle?”

 “We’ve got some ground cars fitted for the job, but I can’t let you head out on your own. I thought I’d take you myself.”

 Frowning, she replied, “I’d far rather go on my own, thank you. This isn’t the first planet I’ve been on.”

 Shaking his head, he said, “You are my responsibility, and you might be God himself up on that ship of yours, but I’m in charge down here, and what I say goes. Or you don’t. Is that understood?”

 “Very well. If you insist. I accept this under protest, Mr. Durman, and I must make that perfectly clear.”

 Rolling his eyes, Durman gestured her towards one of the cars, parked by the side of a nearby building. “The cars are over there, I’ve had Number Four serviced for the trip. There are refreshments inside, I presume you wish to get started right away.”

 “I do indeed,” she replied, the note feeling as if it was burning a hole in her pocket. “Shall we go?”

 “As soon as I’ve certified this shipment.” He shook his head, “Two already today, and three more tomorrow. I don’t know where the hell Price thinks I’m going to store it all. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

 “Right.” Orlova walked over to the cars, looking them over, and climbed into the cab of the selected vehicle. The controls were strange, unfamiliar; briefly she contemplated trying to hot-wire it and take it out by herself, but the resultant hue and cry would be impossible to reconcile with her cover story. The unfortunate Mr. Durman was likely to find himself walking home, as soon as she could work out how to drive the machine.

 After what seemed like hours, Durman walked over to the car. Reaching under her seat, Orlova found a box that was cool to the touch; evidently she had managed to find the drinks, and she reached her hand in to grab a bottle of some sort of blue liquid, a chemical concoction that tasted of nothing at all but was at least cool.

 “Sorry about the wait,” Durman said, “but we’re ready to go now. Any particular direction in mind? There are some herds of green runners heading out on the hills to the north, if that suits. Fairly easy prey, and the head looks good on a wall, so I’m told.”

 “You hunt yourself?”

 “We can’t eat the meat, and I’ve got nowhere to put trophies. I’ve shot at a few of the creatures on occasion, but not for myself.” He chuckled, “We once got in a Carrier Admiral, and he couldn’t shoot worth a damn. Swore me to secrecy, and got me to take down half a dozen beasts for him. Then presumably spent the next few months bragging about it to everyone who would listen.”

 “When was that?”

 “About four, five years ago. Hell, I got a raise out of it. Which my ex-wife promptly spent.”

 Orlova chuckled. Against her better instincts, she was beginning to like Du
rm
an. The car bounced over dunes, then settled into a flatter area, the ground rolling away towards the hills as it wove through scrub-land.

 “Why isn’t this
planet
settled? A colony could be planted here. Over time, they could terraform the place.”

 Shaking his head, Du
rm
an replied, “I talked to a planetologist about that once. The place is doomed, near the end of its biocycle. Not enough moisture, atmosphere leaking away. Forty, fifty thousand years, it’ll be uninhabitable. I guess they don’t think it’s worth the effort.”

 “Forty thousand years isn’t worth it?” she said. “Sounds strange.”

 “The
Court
works in mysterious ways. I reckon they just wanted an excuse not to settle here.”

 While he talked, Orlova studied the controls. They looked simple enough – throttle for the engine, control lever for the course, a few navigational systems built in. Handling it seemed easy. Which was just as well, as they’d already traveled quite a few miles. If she was going to make that rendezvous, now was the time to act.

 “Mind if we stop here? I want to stretch my legs for a minute.”

 Du
rm
an shrugged, and brought the vehicle to a halt. “Take all the time you want, but we’re way short of the nearest herd yet.”

 Orlova stepped out onto the soil, walking into the shade of a low, scrubby tree. It didn’t seem real that in just a few thousand years, all of this would be gone. Kneeling into the dust, she saw a piece of shaped stone in the ground; snatching it with her hand, she held it up, spotting a regular pattern of dots and lines.

 “Ah, we must be at another site,” Du
rm
an said. “I reckon there was a great civilization here once, long ago. There are relics of them everywhere. No-one’s ever taken a serious look, though. Not enough money, or people, I guess. When we’ve taken down the Confederation, there might be time for all of that.”

 “It would be nice to think so,” she replied, pointing down at the dirt. “You see that?” It really was the oldest trick in the book, but this time it actually seemed to work as Du
rm
an dropped to his knees. 

 “I don’t see anything.”

 “Right there,” she said, and as he peered over, she hit him on the back of the neck with an expert chop, sending him crashing to the ground. Racing over to the car, she snatched a coil of cable, evidently intended for securing trophies, and wrapped it around his wrists and ankles. It took an effort to get him back into the car, this time into the passenger seat, but she couldn’t leave him out there. No matter that it would be the sensible thing to do, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

 Sliding into the driving seat, she turned on the motor, and experimented with the throttle for a moment, heading in a straight line at first before experimenting with turns. Once satisfied that she could drive, at least after a fashion, she started to set up the on-board navigator, punching in the coordinates on the note as Du
rm
an groaned back to consciousness.

 “What are you doing?” he said with surprising calmness.

 “Sorry, but I warned you I needed to go out by myself.”

 “If you’d made your argument that forcefully at the runway, I’d have listened. Who are you?”

 She turned to him, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m Sub-Lieutenant Margaret Orlova, commanding the Triplanetary Battlecruiser Hercules. I’m afraid that we’ve had to be rather less than honest – and now that you know the truth, I’m going to have to take some...precautions.”

 He rose an eyebrow, “Is this some type of loyalty test?”

 “No test.”

 “Then why tell me?”

 “You might as well know why. The moment I hit you on the head I’d broken cover anyway.”

 Gesturing back with his head, he said, “You should have left me in the desert.”

 “If I’d done that, I might as well just switch sides myself. Now let me concentrate, I’ve never driven one of these things before.” 

 “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said as they went over a bump, “but it shows.”

Chapter 9

 Zebrova, Lane and Mulenga sat opposite Marshall, waiting with various degrees of patience for him to finish going over the report on Cooper’s interrogation. He was satisfied to see that the Corporal had said nothing of his secret meeting, or his reasons for seeking out Matsumoto, though it certainly didn’t help his case much. As soon as the saboteur was caught, Cooper could easily be exonerated – though a little voice in his mind still had some doubts, wondered whether perhaps Cooper had committed the murder.

 “As you can see,” Lane said, “we have grounds to proceed to an immediate court-martial. A field court-martial with this evidence…”

 “What’s your hurry, Lieutenant?” Zebrova said. “He’s in detention and safe; should he be found guilty…”

 “Should? Have you seen the evidence?”

 “Yes, and I have to admit it looks strong.”

 “Too strong,” Mulenga said. “I know Cooper, sir, and I find it impossible to think that he would kill a fellow crewman in cold blood. He isn’t the type.” Looking across at Lane, he said, “In addition, I would hope that if he did, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use a bullet that literally had his name on it.”