Castle Vroman Page 9

  By mid-afternoon, the five agents were well rested and ready to begin their day. Splitting up into their usual two teams, they set off to learn every bit of information about Milori that was floating around this colony. They had discussed the mission at length during the month-long voyage and all knew their assignments and assigned territories.

  Vyx and Byers headed directly to the tavern that had more or less become their 'headquarters' when on Scruscotto. If anyone had pertinent information to sell, and heard that they were buying, they'd come looking for them there. The first shift at the mine had just gotten off work, so business at the tavern was starting to pick up. Their usual table was unoccupied, so they settled in and ordered a couple of ales. Over the next few hours, half a dozen acquaintances visited them and welcomed them back after their year and a half absence, but no one had any information about Milori operating in the area. Vyx and Byers knew it would take time for the word to spread that they were willing to pay for information about Milori sightings. If they were patient, the information might come to them.

  Remaining at the tavern through the supper hour, and even ordering a meal there instead of going to one of the restaurants that served better fare, Vyx and Byers were finally rewarded with a visit from the individual whom they'd most hoped to meet tonight. Before their greasy meal had even begun repeating on them, Ker Blasperra approached the table. Displaying the usual toothy grin of his species, the tall, gaunt, Hominidae-like Wolkerron with yellow skin and large black eyes said, "Trader, welcome back to Scruscotto. You also Mr. Byers. Might I sit down?"

  "Of course, Ker," Vyx said. "We've been waiting for you."

  "Naturally, Trader," he said, after sitting down. "As soon as I'd learned of your arrival, I notified my banker to process your payment. Here is your draft." He pushed an envelope across the table.

  Vyx opened the envelope and looked in. The sole content was a certified bank draft for five hundred thousand credits. "Thank you, Ker. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

  "Likewise, Trader. The client was most pleased with your delivery and the excellent health of the delivered mamots. I understand that he has already moved the entire consignment. Unfortunately, the government is making noises about legalizing the import of mamots, so interest in smuggling the furry little creatures has dropped off considerably. No one wants to get stuck with a large consignment of the animals if they become legal to import because the selling price would drop precipitously to a fraction of its current high."

  "I understand, Ker. I already have something else in the works anyway."

  "Anything that I might assist you with?"

  "Perhaps. I'm looking for Milori again."

  "Milori? I understood that Space Command ordered them back to their own empire."

  "They didn't go, at least not completely. I've learned that a number of ships have remained hidden in this sector and the surrounding sectors."

  "I admit that I have heard a few rumors, but I dismissed it as being bad information."

  "I would be willing to pay handsomely for information about their whereabouts that proves reliable."

  "Handsomely?" Ker Blasperra asked, suddenly becoming very interested. "How handsomely?"

  "If the information proves accurate, I'll pay a thousand credits for the first report about any location."

  "That is a very handsome sum for such a trivial bit of information. One might wonder why you'd be willing to pay so well for information such as that. One might think that you were in the employ of Space Command, especially after you hired so many freighters to participate in Admiral Carver's plan to deceive the Milori into withdrawing from the Frontier Zone a couple of years ago."

  "Space Command pays very well for information and assistance. Knowing what they want, and who will pay, is the trick to doing business with them or anyone else. I can verify that Space Command credits spend every bit as well as any that I've ever earned through smuggling, but I've never informed on a fellow smuggler."

  "If you do get a reputation as being a Space Command informant, life could become very precarious around here. The Raiders frequent many of these colonies."

  "I have no particular love for Space Command and I'm as careful with what I tell them, or do for them, as I am with all my other business dealings. But I have no regrets when it concerns keeping the Milori out of Galactic Alliance space. This is our backyard and I don't like the Empire thinking that we'll stand for their taking over. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how unhealthy it would suddenly become in our business if this was to become Milori territory. The Milori have no use for humans, or human-like species, to begin with and wouldn't hesitate to kill any of us in the blink of an eye."

  "Quite so, Trader, quite so."

  "At least Space Command demands definite proof of illegal activity before arresting you. And arrest doesn't mean automatic and immediate execution, as it does with the Milori."

  "I see your point, Trader. Forgive my earlier remarks; I would also very much dislike seeing this become Milori territory. I'll check with my contacts and see if I can learn anything about a Milori presence in these sectors."

  "Okay, Ker. Remember, the fee is only payable for the first report of any verifiable location, so timing is key."

  "I'll remember. Good evening, Trader. Mr. Byers."

  Vyx and his team remained at Weislik for a full week before moving on to one of the other major mining colonies on the planet. Vyx rented a shuttle and paid three more weeks pad rent at the Space Port instead of moving his small transport. They'd transmitted all reports of Milori sightings to Stewart within hours of receiving them, relying on Space Command to determine the veracity of the informants. Vyx paid out fifty credits for each report with the promise that the rest would be paid, but only when and if the information proved accurate. Most of the informants would have sold out their mother for a thousand credits, so selling information about Milori didn't create any misplaced twinges of conscience.

  * * *

  "We have eighteen different reports regarding hidden locations of Milori ships in our sectors," Jenetta said to the eighteen ship captains assembled around the table in the large conference room. Except for Jenetta and the captains, only her aide, Lt. Commander Lori Ashraf, and Captain Benjamin Lofgren, the head of Intelligence at Stewart, were present for the meeting. "Because of the sensitivity of this information, I've kept it a close secret until the nearest eighteen ships could arrive back here. We've known since the Milori attacked the Lisbon that they still have ships in Galactic Alliance space, but we haven't released that information except to certain high-ranking individuals. We've since learned that thirty of their newest and fastest ships broke away from the retreating fleet and traveled independently to places of concealment within our borders. We've had months to round up all the Raider spotters we could find and replace them with our own people, and we're now ready to take on the Milori ships that we can locate."

  "Who's provided these reports, Admiral?" Captain Cyndee Pasqua of the GSC Destroyer Chicago asked.

  "Our intelligence operatives have secured the leads from miners, traders, smugglers, and other assorted space–– travelers. We've purchased the information, so the reliability is questionable, but it's the best we have. If the Milori spot us while we're setting up this operation, I expect they'll attempt to notify the other ships, which will then immediately travel to alternate secret locations. This is both good and bad. Bad because we might miss them, but good because there's a chance the ones we don't know about will also attempt to move and they may be spotted by the people we've placed in the former Raider spotter ships. The Milori ships will be easy to identify because of their speed. Ships moving beyond Light-262 can only be ours, Raider ships, or Milori ships."

  "When will the attacks commence, Admiral?" Captain William Payton of the GSC Battleship Thor asked.

  "Just as soon as we can get everyone in place. I've sent the ships unable to get here in time for this meeting directly to rendezvous points witho
ut explanation. To avoid the slightest chance of having this information leak, I didn't include it in the orders to the ship's captains. You'll leave here today and travel to the RPs where you'll personally brief the other captains of your battle group. You should brief no one else, except your first officers, before then. The most senior captain in each group will lead the attack in a simultaneous operation with all other attack groups. Using space tugs, because of their small DeTect signature, we'll first place IDS jamming satellites at maximum distance around the perimeter to prevent the Milori from contacting other ships. We'll then position electronic barrier equipment in the hope that we can shut down their Light Drive engines if they try to escape. As soon as you activate the equipment, you'll move in, using coded RF communications for coordination. If the Milori ships are where we expect them to be, they'll probably attempt to build an envelope as soon as they detect your presence. If they haven't deactivated their ACS, it will shut down their FTL drive and cancel their envelope. They'll have to rebuild it again. That will give us at least four minutes to disable their temporal envelope generator. At the very least, we should have a window of at least two minutes from the point where they detect our presence. We have to move in fast and strike them hard. With at least three warships at each location, the odds should be on our side this time, if the Milori ships are alone."

  The captains around the table were silent as they digested the plan. Jenetta waited for a couple of minutes before saying, "I'll assume from your silence that no one objects or wishes to suggest an alternate plan, so let's cover the specifics."

  Over the next ten minutes, she gave each Captain the reported coordinates of the Milori ship that he or she would be attempting to capture or destroy. She specified where the group would wait until the space tugs placed the electronic barrier equipment, and the simple code phrase that would include the time the operation was set to begin. She wouldn't establish and transmit the attack time until all ships had arrived at their RPs and communicated that fact to Stewart. When she was done, she asked if there were any questions.

  "Just one," Captain Simon Pope of the Geneva said. "What happens if we're spotted by the enemy? Do we give chase?"

  "Yes. You probably won't be able to catch them, but you should try. I'm sure they'll expect you to give chase and we don't want to disappoint them just yet. Break off after you lose contact. Anything else?"

  Jenetta waited for ten seconds and then said, "Okay, let's send them to hell, if they won't surrender."

  All eighteen ships left Stewart SCB within two hours of the meeting conclusion. There had been a sense of eager anticipation and perhaps a little nervousness in the air as they left the conference room. Supply crewmen had given the ships requiring provisions top priority during the meeting and they were ready for departure by the time their captains returned. Jenetta stood at the SimWindow in her office and watched them move out of the port, all the time wishing that she were going with them. She hated sending people out to face danger while she remained safe back at the base. She knew that some of those aboard the fifty-eight ships participating in this effort might not be returning. She would have committed a larger part of the forces available to her, but the other ships had been too far away and the information too time sensitive, so the others were allowed to continue their regular patrol routes while the selected ships prepared to engage the enemy.

  There was little to do now except wait. Some of the ships wouldn't reach their RPs for up to twenty days and then it would take another day to reach the deployment point once Jenetta gave the order to proceed.

  * * *

  "I don't like it," Admiral Hubera said gruffly to the other members of the Admiralty Board. "I don't like it one bit. Pulling over fifty ships off patrol is the same sort of irresponsible behavior that she exhibited when she countermanded orders and sent the battleship Thor off looking for three missing agents, thereby putting the entire base in jeopardy when the Raiders attacked Stewart."

  "There was no way she could have foreseen that attack, and the lives of three brave individuals were in danger," Admiral Platt said. "Besides which, this is totally different, Donald. We can't just ignore thirty enemy warships secreted inside our inner border."

  "We have no proof that there are thirty ships. We're being asked to accept that a government, with whom we have no formal diplomatic relations, made such a claim in an alleged report from a source who will only communicate with Admiral Carver. For all we know, the individual sending the information is in the employ of the Milori. They may just want us out chasing fictitious ships so they can attack our bases while they're relatively unprotected."

  "Donald," Admiral Hillaire said, "we've seen the video log from the Lisbon. Those were definitely Milori warships attacking our destroyer, not fictitious ships."

  "We saw three ships, Arnold, only three. What if that's all there are in our space?"

  "And what if the reports are true?" Admiral Bradlee asked. "Can we afford to sit back and do nothing, allowing the enemy to take up positions in our territory?"

  "Admiral Carver is doing the right thing, in my opinion," Admiral Plimley said. "She's only allocated half her forces to this operation, while allowing the other half to continue their patrols. It's better to fight these enemy ships now, singly or in small groups, than after they've assembled for a full assault."

  "I've told Admiral Carver she has my full faith and confidence," Admiral Moore said. "I meant it when I said it and I see no reason to change. She's out there taking the fight to the enemy and doing a damn fine job of it under very trying conditions. She's proven herself to be a very competent and effective leader, and deserves our full support."

  "She should be out looking for Admiral Vroman and the crew of the Lisbon," Admiral Hubera said.

  "I'm sure every ship in her command has orders to watch for any sign of the Admiral and our missing crew," Admiral Burke said. "I'm also willing to bet that Admiral Carver is hoping to learn something from any Milora she might capture in this operation. What more can she be doing, Donald?"

  Admiral Hubera simply leaned back in his chair and muttered something unintelligible under his breath before saying clearly, "You all have too much confidence in this child. You mark my words; her reckless behavior in spreading her forces all over our Frontier sectors will be responsible for the greatest loss of life Space Command has ever experienced."

  * * *

  Despite the fact that they had seen no dinosaurs since the one attack, the crewmembers of the Lisbon couldn't seem to stop looking over their shoulders. The hunters had found numerous recent tracks outside the pass leading into the valley, but it was impossible to tell if they were from the Alioramus that had found its way in, or from others.

  They had built huge, palisade barricades with double rows of sharpened logs positioned upwards for defense. The first row rose forty-five degrees from horizontal, with the second row set to about seventy degrees. Placed where the pass emptied into the valley, they would hopefully prevent any creature larger than a gelk from passing. Any Alioramus trying to get through would impale itself, as happened with the first creature, but the thickness of the shafts of the logs guaranteed that they would never break with any creature weighing less than five tons. Guards patrolled each pass into the valley around the clock and crude horns had been fashioned for use as a warning system.

  The meat of the first dinosaur had proven far too oily to eat, but an engineer discovered he could extract the oil if he ground up the flesh and pressed it. The extract burned cleanly, with just the slightest hint of a smell. When a cook added a ground-up, aromatic herb he'd found in the nearby forest, the smell became pleasantly fragrant and made the oil ideal to fuel lamps. Gelk bladders full of the oil were stored for later use, and the bones made good weapons and tools, once the remaining flesh had been stripped clean. The hide was extremely tough, so it became outer protective clothing for the hunters whose clothes had taken a real beating as they passed through the heavy brush and undergrowth in the
forest.

  Efforts to domesticate the gelks had shown some progress and the animals now remained calm when the handlers entered the corral, even accepting food directly, but it might be a long time before they would be tame enough for training to pull a plow. Based on the progress to date, Admiral Vroman decided they should begin breeding the animals, so the hunters set out to capture more alive. One of the crewmen responsible for working with the gelks suggested they train them to provide transportation, just as horses and camels had once been used on Earth. A saddle and bridle was fashioned, and, in an adjoining corral, the bronco busting commenced in earnest.

  Few of the Lisbon crew had ever ridden a horse, but several had grown up in the western portions of North America or the central plains areas of South America where recreational horseback riding was still a part of normal life. It took fifteen minutes to get a bridle on the gelk and another hour to get it saddled, but it was finally ready for the experiment. Within seconds, the gelk ejected the first hardy souls who attempted a ride. But then Chief Petty Officer Josh Cody of Oklahoma got an opportunity to try. Chief Cody had once bragged he was a direct descendant of the famous buffalo hunter and showman, William 'Buffalo Bill' Cody, but the claim had met with some skepticism by crewmates. The female gelk, named Crusher because she had almost crushed a crewman to death against the side of the corral soon after her capture, eyed Cody warily as handlers held her steady in the center of the corral so he could mount. When released, Crusher started to spin and buck immediately. The three handlers ran for the corral walls, climbing to the top rail to get well out of the way.

  The gelk twisted, turned, and bucked with all her strength, but Cody hung on as if glued to the saddle. Slowly, as the animal tired, the jerking movements became less violent and then just stopped, the gelk remaining perfectly still in the center of the corral except for its heaving chest. A cheer went up among the crewmen watching the historic event, but the gelk hadn't given up just yet and it suddenly exploded in a new round of twisting and bucking. It attempted to dislodge the rider for several more minutes, but finally realized the futility of the action and surrendered it's free will to that of the rider. Cody tugged gently on the bridle while lightly kicking the animal in its haunches until the gelk got the idea and started moving around the corral. Rather than dismounting immediately, Cody stayed in the saddle until the animal understood what he wanted, and by the end of ten minutes, the gelk was loping around the corral with Cody grinning proudly at the amazed spectators.