Harald
Harald felt the vibration of the Ironfist's drive through his chair. It was not leaving orbit, merely repositioning to deliver Fleet's violent reply to the attack on Inigis's ship. Right now Fleet surface installations were being abandoned, and communications with the Brumallians being cut. Harald smiled coldly and returned his attention to the Lieutenant seated opposite him.
"A detailed and extensive report," he pronounced, then closed off the segment of eye-screen that had displayed it. "Now you must give me your conclusions."
"With respect, Tacom, it is not within my remit to come to conclusions," Lieutenant Alun replied.
Harald grimaced. "And those who stick too diligently to their remit are doomed to languish in the same rank in Fleet until they retire. Let me put it another way, I would be most interested in hearing your opinion on this matter."
"Which I should append to this report?"
"If you so wish."
Alun stabbed a finger down onto the deck between them. "The launcher was of wartime Brumallian construction; the dead were certainly Brumallians, and those available satellite pictures of the action seem to indicate they did fire the missile that struck Inigis's ship. This being so, to have remained undetected the launcher must have come up through BC32—the small underground city they call Vertical Vienna—which lies only twenty miles away."
"But?" suggested Harald.
"Some believe this was a preliminary strike preparatory to full conflict. I cannot see how this could be true, since we know they hardly possess the ability now to even get into space, and there has been no follow-up aggression from them. Had the attackers been Sudorians, we could have supposed them to be renegades, but Brumallian society acts in consensus, so there are no renegades there. I can only suppose that they felt the Consul Assessor himself to be a threat or…this was not an attack by the Brumallians."
Harald leant back. "Interesting theory. Who then?"
Alun kept his voice bland as he explained, "There are elements here in Fleet who considered the Consul Assessor much more of a threat than the Brumallians."
"That is a very serious accusation."
"Opinion merely," insisted Alun.
"Which you will append to the report?"
"I shall append an opinion," said Alun carefully. "It seems to me that elements as yet unidentified intended this action to be blamed on Fleet—suggesting that we used some Special Operations team to set it up, in our usual warmongering manner. The implicit sophistication of the action leads me to suppose that some powerful organisation has used one of its own Special Operations teams—meaning a Sudorian organisation…perhaps one even as powerful as Orbital Combine?"
Harald studied Alun. "I think you can neglect to mention Fleet Special Operations teams, but I would agree with the theory that some Sudorian organisation plotted with the Brumallians of BC32 on this. Evidence has since become available indicating a schism in Brumallian society, centring on that city, and that Sudorian agents of the aforementioned organisation are active there."
"Evidence?"
"Oh yes, plenty of incontrovertible evidence."
Alun just stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged.
Harald continued, "Both parties would benefit from smearing Fleet and thereby reducing its power. The Brumallians would benefit from our reduced vigilance, and others would be able to seize some of our prerogatives in controlling the defence of Sudoria."
"Yes, that seems reasonable," said the Lieutenant.
"Thank you, Alun. I look forward to the additions you will make to your report, and will watch with interest your advancing career." Harald gestured to the door.
Alun stood up, saluted with his closed fist over his side arm, and moved to depart. However, he halted at the door and turned back. "May I ask a very direct question, Commander?"
"You may. I think you have earned the right."
"It was one of our teams down there, wasn't it?"
Harald smiled. "I don't think Orbital Combine or any other organisation possess the professionalism—so of course it was our men."
"And we're going to bring down Orbital Combine?"
"Yes, Alun, we are going to bring them down—and hard."
Alun grinned fiercely and departed. Harald's smile evaporated as the door closed behind him.
The man was now on his way to make his other report, and on his way to a bitter destiny. Harald focused on his eye-screen again, and ran through a recording of this most recent meeting with Alun. There was plenty there he could use, plenty he could change, distort and edit together. Afterwards he checked the time, then speed-read another five reports. He moved on to check the programs he had made to track events. Franorl was now in position off from Corisanthe Main, and the party of Combine observers was aboard Desert Wind. And any moment now…Harald observed the com icon light in the corner of his screen, initiated it and read the expected text summons from Admiral Carnasus. He stared at it for a long moment, then abruptly gave his response before wiping the summons, and then opening a secure com channel. He observed a white and sickly face, framed by black hair, turning towards him.
"Are you still ready, Cheanil?" he asked.
"I am still ready," she replied.
"Stay ready. Your time comes within the hour."
Yishna—leaves Corisanthe Main
A vision arose in her mind of steel hearts beating in darkness, the spaces between them crammed with folded layer-upon-layer of reality, programs chewing through the folds like metallised bugs and long segmented worms, and the feeling of being smothered inside this mass…Yishna woke with panic heavy in her chest and lay motionless on her sweat-soaked mattress. Every clink or distant sound caused this panic to surge sickeningly. Slowly a feeling tingled in her legs, a restlessness. She had to move them but felt frightened to do so. She fought against it, slowly overcoming the paralysis. But moving her legs didn't seem to help. Carefully she reached out and put on the light, then lay there gasping, for even the bright sunny glow did not dispel the inner darkness, rather seemed thinly layered over it. Abruptly she sat up, swung her legs to one side of her sleeping mat and stood up.
The same nightmare had been recurring in every period of sleep for some time, so that she had now become afraid to close her eyes. Trying to stay awake did not help, since even then the nightmare eventually crawled into her conscious mind, or otherwise loomed at the periphery of her perception. Drugged sleep merely held it off for a little while, then it returned with redoubled force. Trying to remain rational, she analysed her condition, but the fear that she knew precisely its source caused her to veer away from making any conclusions.
Standing leadenly in her room within Corisanthe Main, it took Yishna some minutes to notice the flashing icon on her touch-screen. She keyed it and found a summons from Director Gneiss, but timed for an hour ago. Though dreading this summons, now that it had come she felt relieved. Still dressed in the clothes in which she had slept, she moved quickly out into the corridor and strode woodenly towards the Director's office. Seeing OCTs and researchers bustling about around her offered a welcome distraction from the shadows. Finally she came to stand before the curtain drawn across his office entrance, and there lost her impetus. After a moment Gneiss himself drew the curtain aside. She tried to tell herself that he must have been on his way out, but knew deep inside that he had somehow sensed her presence.