Here We Stand, page 22




“They are indeed. Actually, I wanted to ask you about better security for the Caisin gate generator. If the Jattan navy or the Kugin manage to get past the orbital defences, all they have to do is blow the base to bits and take Curtis, complete with the gate technology, and then the whole galaxy has a problem. I think it might be a good idea to relocate it in a bunker that they won’t be able to penetrate or haul back to Dal Mantir.”
“Is that what you’re excavating at the moment?”
“An underground command centre, yes. And bomb shelters for residents around the site. Tad Bednarz foresaw a great deal, but not the fact that we might be under alien attack within months of arriving.”
Ingram was still looking up at the night sky. Hredt thought that sounded reasonable. Curtis was only a convenient container for the gate generator. She had her own drive.
“I think that would be sensible,” Hredt said.
Ingram nodded to herself. “How did you manage to get it in the ship without anyone knowing, by the way? You had to smuggle it out.”
“We built it in situ. We deal with many departments and manufacturers that only make one component of a ship, so none of them ever have the full picture. The Kugin think that’s best from a security perspective. From there, it’s possible to assemble quite a lot without scrutiny. The gate generator isn’t as big as you might think. It’s more of a refinement than a radically different device.”
“They must trust you a lot.”
“Not any more they don’t.”
Ingram laughed. She seemed to think Hredt was being witty.
“For what it’s worth, Fred, we’re not leaving. We’d have to be facing total annihilation before we’d abandon Opis. And we won’t abandon you, either. We’re just making sure we’re ready for anything. If we can’t hold our ground here, humans won’t ever be able to hold it anywhere.”
She was right. Things wouldn’t get any easier, because the rest of the galaxy showed evidence of being equally complicated and beset with rivalries and problems.
Hredt felt better than he had a couple of hours ago. Epliko was in good hands, there seemed to be a cure for the agitation that had affected the commune, and the humans of Nomad remained reliable allies.
A cure...
Dr Tomlinson had suggested the mineral or whatever it was might have occurred naturally on their homeworld, but not on Velet. What did that mean? If the Kugin added it to their food, then they knew what it was, so did they also know where teeriks had come from originally, but had decided to erase it from the records? Did a lack of this substance actually make teeriks ill? Being aggressive wasn’t the same as being unwell, but perhaps it was the early stages of a condition that got worse over time. The Kugin wanted to protect the health of valuable assets that gave them their military edge in the Mastan, and keep them happy. They hadn’t been entirely bad, then, considering they were barbarians.
Hredt still wondered why teeriks couldn’t recall their own history when they had such extraordinary memories. Someone, somewhere should have remembered places, fragments of language, even ancient customs, and spoken of them to their communes, and passed that knowledge down in stories as well. But there was nothing.
Perhaps it didn’t matter if they never knew where they came from as long as they knew who they were now. He’d let himself get too anxious about that.
It was time to do some work. That always made him happy.
* * *
Meeting of the Halu-Masset, Cabinet of the Government of Jatt in exile, with the chosen of Nir, Oru, Eb, Shus, Parni, and Van present, chaired by Nir-Tenbiku Dals, Primary: two days after receiving the emergency message from Gan-Pamas Iril.
“But where did they come from?”
The Controller of the Exchequer, Biltad Fas, seemed to be having trouble believing that a new species had arrived in the sector unnoticed. He leaned back in the seat and stared up at the star chart above him as if the answer was in there. But Nir-Tenbiku knew they weren’t dealing with newcomers from a neighbouring sector. Humans must have come from much further afield.
“I think the more pressing question is why they came here, Fas,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “I think we can assume they’re not allies of the Protectorate, or they wouldn’t have seized the ship.”
“Are we sure we’re being told everything?”
“Our informants take huge risks to gather intelligence for us. They’re hardly likely to withhold anything.”
“And you trust them.”
“I do.” Nir-Tenbiku knew there was some critical piece of information missing, but it wouldn’t have been anything his spies could have uncovered or they’d have told him by now. “And I know we can trust Gan-Pamas’s observations. He assessed this outpost as a garrison. I know he can be rash, but he’s not a fool.”
“Not a fool, but likely to be dead.”
“Fas, he’s my friend. I ask you to show some respect. And if he’s been killed, it’s all the more reason for us not to waste intelligence that he gave his life to obtain.”
Fas looked surprised at the rebuke rather than penitent, and that bothered Nir-Tenbiku. Perhaps he’d lost his ministers’ respect after so long in the comfortable wilderness of Esmos.
“My apologies, Primary,” Fas said. “I meant no offence.”
“So we need to take a look at these newcomers,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “They’re a complication, at the very least. Gan-Pamas believed it was worth seeing if they could be useful allies, and if we don’t, someone else will. Neither the Protectorate nor Kugad want to open a war on another front, I’m sure of that, so they might step in first.”
“With respect, these humans have the ship and a commune of teeriks.” Lan Cudik spread his arms in his I-can’t-possibly-be-wrong gesture. “The Kugin can’t ignore that, no matter how much they’d rather avoid an expensive war. They’re searching for the ship and they want their teeriks back. We know that. They changed their encryption, as have the Protectorate, because they didn’t know what the teeriks would do with that data. The edge we have is that we do know. They’ll have shared it with these humans.”
Losing the teeriks had thrown Kugad into chaos, and Nir-Tenbiku had seen the evidence. His foreign relations minister, Shus-Wita Olis, had acquired transcripts of intercepted conversations between the Kugin and Protectorate defence ministries. Kugad had simply never had a commune escape before, let alone one responsible for a prototype, and the significance of the loss had sunk in.
It wasn’t just about Kugin dependence on these creatures for their skills. It was the treasure trove of intelligence stored in their prodigious memories for a smart enemy to exploit. The humans now appeared to be that enemy, and Nir-Tenbiku couldn’t see any way for Kugad to limit the damage of all that classified information outside their control. They could change encryption, but they couldn’t replace every single ship, system, and weapon that the teeriks knew in every detail, either for their own defence forces or their clients. In fact, it didn’t look like they’d notified any of their customers that there’d been a catastrophic security breach. They’d grown complacent and careless over the years. Now it had caught up with them.
Imagine, the mighty Kugin having to admit everything was compromised. Nir-Tenbiku quite enjoyed the thought of them storming around and banging tables, demanding to know whose fault this was. They thought all Jattans were hot-headed idiots, to be thrown a few scraps and treated like children. The Protectorate might have fitted that bill, but the lawful government of Jatt was going to give them all a rude awakening.
“This is still all conjecture,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “The only way we can make progress is to find and observe the humans and assess them before we risk making contact.”
“Who said anything about contact?” Cudik asked. “We don’t need the prenu to take back Jatt. Yes, it’s a psychological blow to the Protectorate, but it’s just an elaborate police vehicle that happens to be a pet project of the intelligence services. We could ignore it and carry on. The teeriks would be very useful, of course, because they could provide intelligence on every nation and agency that bought vessels from Kugad, but they’re not worth the distraction from the main task of removing the Protectorate. I say we postpone any attempt to approach the humans until we’re truly in a position of strength.”
“Cudik, when we overthrow the Protectorate, Kugad may well come to their allies’ aid, unless they can strike a quick and easy deal with us to maintain their supplies of ore and minerals, and if they do back the Protectorate, that will keep us very busy,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “I would rather we sounded out our potential allies before we end up fighting two armies.”
Nir-Tenbiku didn’t have to get his ministers to agree to his plan in order to take action, but life was easier when they did. The moment they’d worked towards for so long was near. They’d bided their time and amassed weapons and supporters, waiting for Kugad to overstretch itself just enough to weaken it. When Nir-Tenbiku finally launched the attack on the Protectorate, whether military or economic, it would also be a war with the Kugin. There had to be a way of stopping them from coming to the Protectorate’s aid until they realised their need for imports was best served by dumping the traitors and negotiating with the new government.
“A valid point,” Cudik said. “But neutralising Kugad is a much longer-term plan. We need to rebuild Jatt and re-arm for a hard war before then. That has always been our strategy. Appear to be doing business as usual when we take control, but we prepare for the second phase, neutralising Kugad for good. Nothing’s changed.”
“But something has changed,” Olis said. “Humans have arrived.”
“There are ways to bring down an empire without shots being fired,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “Attrition works. We continue fomenting rebellion in their colonies and occupied territories in the Mastan to keep them off balance and bleed their resources. They rely on light-touch annexation in exchange for taxes and exports, with the occasional brutal suppression to make the point. But if they ever have to put down resistance on every world and in every nation they’ve taken over, especially simultaneous uprisings, they’ll break.”
Why didn’t their colonies just do that anyway? Nir-Tenbiku never understood why Kugad’s unwilling subjects had waited for Jatt to suggest it. They had no idea of their own power. Jatt was doing them a favour by showing them.
“So what difference can the humans make?” Olis asked.
“They could join us and cause mayhem,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “I’m certain the Kugin don’t know they exist. Finding out that they do will come as a massive shock.”
“Or they could decide to replace Kugad as the dominant power and make our lives very miserable indeed,” Fas said.
“But the reality is always somewhere between those two extremes.”
So far, Parni-Kulat Mer, Controller of the Colonies, and the Minister for Justice, Van-Ibe Ress, had said nothing much at all. If they had misgivings about Nir-Tenbiku’s plan, they would find a way to chip at it until it crumbled.
“Ladies,” he said. “I would truly appreciate your input. This is a major policy decision and I want to know where you stand.”
“I think we should see if the humans are potential allies,” Mer said. “And as they have teeriks, let’s not forget they’ll already know a lot about us, but we start with knowing nothing about them.”
Ress reached out to put her hand in the stream of cool mist rolling from a humidifier shaped like an ancient Esmosi urn. Esmos was very good at making utilitarian objects luxurious. “That’s a good reason for leaving well alone,” she said. “But as it’s too late to hide from them, let’s keep talking for the moment.”
“Well, all that matters now is where they’ve established their garrison.” Nir-Tenbiku gestured to bring the star chart down to eye level and highlighted a single star, then zoomed in to show its planets. “Gan-Pamas provided coordinates for a point on this world. The system seems unexplored, but it does appear on some older charts. The humans must know a lot about this sector if they chose such an obscure place to gain a foothold.”
“Or they were just looking for conditions that matched their homeworld,” Ress said. “Quicker and cheaper.”
“How did they acquire teeriks?” Mer asked. “That astonishes me. Kugad isn’t quite the secure bastion it thinks it is if it’s lost teeriks twice now.”
“You’re counting Lirrel.”
“It’s two separate escapes, even if they thought Lirrel was dead. They must be getting sloppy. Like my father always said, show me his head to prove it.”
Nir-Tenbiku wondered how many more teeriks they’d misplaced without admitting it. “Unless it’s an extraordinary coincidence that they found each other, the question should be how did the humans make contact with the teeriks working on the prototype in the first place,” he said. “Did they target the prototype somehow, or did that just happen to be something those teeriks thought was sufficiently valuable to both Kugad and the Protectorate to be worth the risk of offering it to them? And that, of course, begs the question again of how they communicated with each other, because we heard absolutely nothing.”
“Human intelligence gathering must be quite impressive.”
“Indeed. They’ve somehow managed to arrive in the sector completely undetected, set up a garrison, make contact with teeriks, and acquire a ship that was under the tightest security in Kugad’s shipyards.” Nir-Tenbiku called up the message from Gan-Pamas with a flick of one finger. “And let’s not forget what our friend observed. They have mechanicals working alongside them and a number of quadruped species too. They found Gan-Pamas, and his ship, and he’s no amateur at covert landings. And Lirrel — in hindsight, it was a mistake to take him on the mission, even if he was needed as navigator, but the humans killed him, so they have no qualms about disposing of teeriks, no matter how valuable they are. Everything the message states indicates a strong, confident force with considerable technological skills. That also tends to mean one with equally considerable backup.”
“And one that’s going to be unreceptive to us at the very least, because Lirrel killed one of their females,” Cudik said. “Not the best start for healthy diplomatic relations.”
Nir-Tenbiku suspected every species had its price for overlooking unfortunate incidents. “True. But Gan-Pamas was right — their presence alone will be disruptive, and if they now begin to arrive in numbers, the balance of power shifts.”
“We could at least use them as a wedge to drive Kugad and the Protectorate apart. What would we be able to offer them in an alliance, though?”
“That’s what we shall find out, all being well,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “We have natural resources and a good spy network, for a start. We can trade rare commodities and secrets.”
“Very well, I’m convinced of the need to at least get better intelligence on them,” Ress said. “An assay probe, though. No landing, not yet.”
“Assay probe it is, then.” Nir-Tenbiku was satisfied. He’d never been one for exploiting his pedigree and pulling rank on his ministers. It was much easier to handle them when they felt they’d given him their advice. “Cudik, do you want to arrange this, or shall I? It’s your ministry.”
“I’ll take care of it, Primary.”
“They have Gan-Pamas’s ship, you know.”
“They’d never be able to trace it back to here.”
“No, but they have teeriks who can almost certainly show them how to use it, and if I were them, I would do exactly that.”
“What are you saying?”
“Keep an eye open for it,” Nir-Tenbiku said. “If it shows up, it’ll tell us a little about their true intentions. We won’t necessarily hear those from them even if we exchange loyal gifts and sit down to talk.”
Sometimes Nir-Tenbiku wondered what his grandfather would have done in this situation, but he feared he’d have had nothing to teach him. He’d put his faith in a system where the government and opposition obeyed the same rules, and factions could only be put in power or removed from it by the will of the electorate. He was noble but naive. He’d never imagined that any element in Jatt would debase itself like some backward feudal dirt-patch and depose him, or that the citizens wouldn’t revolt because it seemed impossible that it had happened.
But that was the art of the coup: to do it so subtly and so silently, one deceitful step at a time, until all the stages were complete and it was hard to see that it had even taken place.
Nir-Tenbiku had learned a lot from that. He’d return the favour and savour every moment. But this time, there would be blood to show that power had been reclaimed by those who were lawfully entitled to it.
06
I’m not sure if this is good news or not, Captain. The positive part is that the compound is definitely working on the teeriks. Epliko says he’s feeling like his old self. I think we can safely give it to all of them now, but we’ll monitor them carefully. The odd part is that I’ve run molecular modelling on Jattan brain tissue as well as the teerik specimens which still suggests this is a manufactured tranquilliser. The Kugin seem to keep them permanently stoned without their knowledge, probably by adding it to food if they don’t recall receiving medication. I don’t know if the aggression is part of withdrawal or if they’re reverting to their normal personalities, but we need to watch this carefully.
Dr Karl Tomlinson, Ainatio biochemist, updating Bridget Ingram on the unidentified substance.
Home of Jared and Marsha Talbot, Third Street, Kill Line: October 12, OC.
“Don’t say it, Chris. Don’t.”
“I’ve got to.”
“No, fight it, buddy. Don’t let it win.”
“I don’t think I can hold out. So why — ”
“You’re better than this — ”
“ — why the hell does he go into a building looking for a guy he knows is going to blow his head off, walk past two closed doors, which he doesn’t even check, and then turn around with his back to the damn staircase?” Chris could feel a dumb giggle busting to get out. Yeah, he was drunk. But he still had his professional standards. “How does this guy get to be a detective? Jeez, I wouldn’t work with the asshole. I’d frag him before he got me killed. I’d put arsenic in his fancy hundred-buck Sumatra-blend Americano the first chance I got.”