"Yes, a shame."
Harald continued, "However, I rather suspect that David McCrooger is not the Polity's only envoy here within our system, and for my purposes I would rather there were none here at all."
"Your purposes?"
"Yishna, much as it's pleasant to chat to you, perhaps we can take this up later?"
"What are your purposes, Harald?"
"I am not at liberty to discuss Fleet matters with someone so high up in Orbital Combine, sister."
"Would that I could believe 'your purposes' concern only Fleet." Yishna put aside her cup and stood. "We should discuss this further."
"Yes, perhaps later."
Yishna glanced at his coms helmet and glove, then turned and departed.
Harald sat for a long moment with the polished wheels of his mind turning. Some input in the recent conversation had changed his attitude to McCrooger, but that did not alter his overall plan, and his feeling that the Consul Assessor was best out of the way, permanently. He stood and went to retrieve his helmet and glove, donning them almost with relief. Opening a com channel he waited. After a moment a woman's face peered at him from his eye-screen—cropped grey hair and bitter mouth, and a thin face deeply grooved with lines and a permanent look of disapproval. He rather suspected her sour mien was due to years of fighting her way up through a patriarchal organisation.
"Jeon," he acknowledged. "Update?"
She glanced at something to one side then said, "I am still analysing the data. The trace separated on the surface—one part of it remaining inland, and the other travelling fast over land and sea to the escape-pod, then back again."
"So there is either one conjoined object or two separate objects that have remained together until now?"
She nodded. "So it would seem. It also strikes me as likely that, whatever it is, it rescued the Consul Assessor."
Harald sat back. "I will ask Special Operations on Brumal to…solve that problem. They will enjoy the challenge. But that is irrelevant for my purposes right now. If the Polity is interventionist, it seems this unknown object is the greatest danger to us. You have detected nothing else?"
"Nothing so far, but that's not to say there's nothing more here. It was pure luck that we picked up on this thing—luck and the application of some recent research results from Corisanthe Main."
"I must work on the assumption that there is only this one…maybe two." Harald grimaced—he did not like making assumptions. "You're still tracking?"
"The trace is sitting five hundred miles above the ReconYork, holding station there."
"Very well, Jeon. I want you to prepare a five-megaton warhead—fully shielded and EM hardened—for simple contact detonation, and allowing coded detonation from here." Jeon frowned her puzzlement, and he explained, "There will be a retaliatory strike made against the Brumallians for their attack on Inigis's ship. We will then see if the Polity is prepared to intervene, and perhaps we can remove their ability to do so."
"I see."
"Let me know when you're ready. The missile is to go into Silo Fourteen."
Harald cut their communication and opened another channel. After a moment, a man gazed out at him.
"Captain Franorl, you will shortly be receiving instructions, through the usual channels, to replace Dravenik on Corisanthe Watch," said Harald.
"To whom do I owe this honour?"
"To me, as always."
"I see."
"As per the agreement between Orbital Combine and Fleet, Combine observers will be sent over to your ship while you are on station watching Corisanthe Main. You are to know where they are at all times, because at a certain time they will attempt to sabotage the Desert Wind."
"If we've evidence of this, why can't I just throw them in the brig?"
"You misapprehend me. They will all be killed while making this sabotage attempt, and therefore no evidence will be required. Suspecting attack from Combine, you will then move your ship out of range of Corisanthe Main's armament."
Franorl smiled. "At last."
"Out." Harald cut that connection and quickly made a new one. After a short delay a different male face gazed at him from the screen. "Captain Dravenik, you will shortly be replaced on Corisanthe Watch by Captain Franorl on Desert Wind."
"This is from the Admiral?" Dravenik asked suspiciously.
"It is. You will also be receiving orders to position yourself just out from Planetary Defence Platform One. It seems we may be having a little bit of a problem with Combine."
"The nature of this problem?"
"It would appear there may be some connection between the Brumallian missile strike on Inigis's vessel and certain factions operating in Orbital Combine. We have yet to obtain clear proof of this, however."
"Combine and Brumallians collaborating?" said the Captain disbelievingly.
"Unlikely, I agree," said Harald. "It seems more likely to me that these factions in Combine deliberately tried to implicate the Brumallians so we would be distracted."
"Why would Combine want to take down the ship transporting the Consul Assessor?"
"Factions within Combine, Dravenik."
"This is all very well," said Dravenik, "but I'd get all that through the usual channels. Why are you contacting me privately like this?"
"I have a favour to ask of you."
"Oh really."
"Attempting to keep the peace, the Admiral will order you to hold station there, but to keep your weapons systems offline. I am not entirely sure if he understands the seriousness of the situation. I am not entirely sure if I do either, so I want you to keep your weapons systems online."
"Provocative."
"Yes, but not sufficiently so to cause an incident, unless an incident is what Combine wants. Should such circumstances arise I would rather you were ready."
Dravenik paused for a moment, before replying, "I'll consider your request." His image blinked out.
Harald sat back. Dravenik, whose dislike of Harald never wavered, would now assume Harald was trying to undermine his position as the senior candidate to replace Carnasus. The Admiral would never order him to take his weapons systems offline, though that was standard peacetime practice, but would leave that decision to Dravenik. The Captain, however, would most certainly keep those weapons offline now simply because Harald asked him not to. Dravenik would still be able to respond to an attack, but only belatedly. Fleet needed substantial motivation to turn on Orbital Combine, and Dravenik would soon be providing it.
Orduval—in the Desert
The moment Orduval woke he felt reduced—honed down to a smaller point in existence. With his body comfortable and warm, he dared not move for fear of stirring pain. Gradually he became aware that his head rested gently on padded fabric, and daring to turn it he eventually focused his blurred vision on a large water chiller standing beside him—precisely the sort found inside municipal buildings. Then, inspecting his close surroundings, he realised his head was resting on the pillow of an inflatable mattress and that he was lying naked in a sleeping bag. Still he dared not move excessively, knowing that, no matter what drugs his rescuer had pumped inside him, the compound fracture of his leg was going to hurt.
"You're safe now, Orduval," said a voice nearby.
Immediately analysing that voice, he found it scared him badly. He detected a dearth of humanity behind it, like something heard from a voice synthesiser. Slowly now, he drew one hand up out of the sleeping bag and inspected it. It was bruised but hurt surprisingly little. His rescuer had relocated his fingers, so perhaps had also set his leg?
As he slowly pulled himself upright, more of the interior of the cave became visible to him. On a canvas sheet laid on the ground nearby rested an assortment of packaged foods, a solar-power store and cooker, some medical supplies and a stack of clothing. With his vision clearing properly, it seemed to Orduval as if all these objects became more real to him, more substantial than anything he had ever seen before. With a sudden panic he recognised the clothing as some of his own he had left behind in the hospital.