Cheris quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m sure you Kel find Shuos infighting very amusing.”
Cheris composed the query, then saved it with a reminder to send it when their ruse was blown.
“Would rather be shooting, sir,” Nerevor said moodily. She was drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair.
“We can’t take out all their guns fast enough to clear a landing corridor for the hoppers,” Cheris said.
“I know,” Nerevor said, and sighed. “Wait for an opening in the situation and all that.”
Cheris rechecked the hopper logistics, on the grounds that she might as well do something. Her mouth felt more dry than ever. She bet she wasn’t the only one. Later, she told herself. In the meantime, she was getting better at blocking out some of the lower-priority alerts and reorganizing her displays so the most important status indicators were available at a glance. The grid was supposed to do this automatically, but its judgment was sometimes skewed.
Five hours and thirty-nine minutes later, it happened. Cheris had gone for a brief rest and felt better for it, to say nothing of the cool water she had drunk, and was now back in the command center.
In the infantry she had envied moth soldiers the controlled environment, the easy availability of baths and water, air that didn’t choke you with dust or scorched metal or cooked flesh. Now that she was in a cindermoth, she missed having to watch where she put her feet; she missed the light of swollen suns instead of the patchwork red-and-amber, she missed the wind cutting into her eyes.
“Sir!” It was Scan, who looked badly like she wanted her shift to end. “Explosion near the communications post in the Anemone Ward. Minor armor breach.”
“Tell the boxmoths all hoppers on standby,” Jedao said.
Cheris began giving orders. The boxmoths Autumn Flute and Six Sticks Standing contained the Shuos infiltrator teams. It was imperative that they get the infiltrators into the Fortress so they could start figuring out where the heresy came from and how to stop it.
“Prepare another transmission,” Jedao said once she had finished. “Garach Jedao Shkan. We’re going to hand you back that communications post, but you should learn to hold on to your toys. I’m sending you an extra gift as a token of my goodwill. Enjoy.”
Cheris entered the message more or less automatically, then stared at the bright columns of text. “What do you mean, ‘gift’?”
“A hostage,” Jedao said. “A high officer, a moth commander for preference. Someone they’ll recognize from public records.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Cheris said. “I’m not feeding the fucking heretics one of my officers.”
“Cheris, listen to me. We have to inject those infiltrators. We can’t shoot our way down there. The Fortress has too many guns, and I’m good, but not that good. If you can’t go through a problem, you have to go around it. The heretics haven’t fired because they’re uncertain, but they’re not stupid enough to let us land troops unless I convince them that I’m not, in fact, a Kel general with an unusual taste for dirty tactics. I have to convince them that I’m really Garach Jedao and that I offer them an advantage.”
“I’m still not—”
He kept talking. “The heretics are teetering right now because I took down the shields, yet there’s no way I could charm or bludgeon my way into a Kel swarm after escaping, let alone a swarm with two cindermoths. We’re going to leave the story to their imagination, because they’re right. I couldn’t do it. But they need to think I did. That’s why we have to send a commander to suggest the story to them. It’s something the Kel would never do, but I might. The Kel don’t fight like that.”
“Damn straight,” Cheris said. “Because we’re not doing it.”
“Very well then, fledge.” Jedao’s tone was formal, and a hot flush crept up the sides of Cheris’s neck. “What is your proposed alternative?”
That brought her up short. She didn’t have one. “Pull back and blow down the defenses with all the bombs we have,” she said.
“I’m happy to evaluate an alternative plan,” Jedao said, correctly ignoring what she had just said in desperation, “but there has to be something to evaluate.”
Cheris had an overwhelming desire to punch him. “Fine,” she said. “If you’re so fucking determined to send someone, send me.”
“Unacceptable,” Jedao said. “Now you’re reacting, not thinking, and when it comes to strategy, thought must trump reaction. If any records exist of you in the Fortress, they’ll have you down as an infantry captain. You’re too insignificant to be of any use as a hostage. At the same time, as my anchor and the current general, you’re too important. I can’t help the swarm if you’re drugged in a cell somewhere. Besides, your shadow and reflection will tell them what’s going on.”
“I can’t ask this of my officers!”
“Sir,” Nerevor said in a dead even voice. She had come out of her chair and was facing Cheris, eyes narrowed.
Cheris realized that she had been shouting.
Everyone had heard her half of the argument.
“Sir,” Nerevor said, more insistently. “What’s the dispute?”
Nerevor shouldn’t have asked, but it was entirely like her to do so. Besides, it was too late to pretend the dispute hadn’t taken place. Cheris said, “General Jedao believes that we need to send the heretics a hostage to persuade them not to fire on the hoppers. The hostage would have to be a high officer to be convincing.”
“Not something any Kel general would do, but something a crazy vengeful Shuos would do, am I right?” Nerevor said, nostrils flaring. “Because we can’t hide the fact that these are Kel moths, so we have to pretend that we were overwhelmed or blackmailed.” She didn’t sound like she thought that was far from the truth. The rest of the command center was very still.
“Yes,” Cheris said.
Nerevor lifted her chin. “Then I’ll go, sir. You won’t do better than a cindermoth commander.”
With winter clarity, Cheris realized she had been manipulated into losing her temper so this conversation would take place. “Hawkfucking prick,” she said to Jedao, remembering the subvocals this time. She studied Nerevor, resisting the urge to glare at the shadow.
Jedao didn’t deny the charge. “She’ll need to be wiped,” he said. “Get Medical to inject her with full-strength formation instinct and revert her to fledge-null. Fastest way to make sure they don’t get intelligence out of her.”
“You’d have to be wiped, Commander,” Cheris said. “Are you sure—”
“You’re wasting everyone’s time,” Jedao said.
“I understand that, sir,” Nerevor said steadfastly. “I am Kel. I will serve, even if this isn’t the service I anticipated when I was assigned to your swarm.”
“Report to Medical,” Cheris said.
“Sir,” Nerevor said, saluting sharply, then turning on her heel.
Cheris put the orders in to Medical. Her hands shook, and she felt coldly knotted inside. Going into a firefight would have been better than this pallid safety. Then she nodded at Nerevor’s executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel Hazan, who had been listening intently, mouth pursed. “You’re acting commander,” she said.
Hazan saluted her sharply, seemingly calm. But a tremor passed through the crew.
“Communications,” Cheris said, “send this message to the Fortress.” She passed it over.
“Hoppers still on standby, sir,” Navigation said, without quite looking at her.
“They’ll hold until Commander Nerevor is ready,” Cheris said. “Tactical One and Two, prepare covering fire but await my command. Scan, what is the Fortress’s current status?”
Scan said, “There’s a lot of—”