Here We Stand, page 70
Was she asking him if he’d commit forces to defend the base? He had to tread carefully now. The discussion had now exceeded his expectations and Ingram was probably working up to what she wanted from the arrangement.
“We would of course help you in any way we can if you came under attack,” Nir-Tenbiku said, hoping he’d guessed right.
There was another long pause. Ingram looked past him for a moment and he realised he’d forgotten about the emanation in the mechanical’s body still standing by the door like a guard. If some communication was taking place between Ingram and this Solomon, he couldn’t detect it.
“Primary, I’ll consider what to do with the ship,” she said. “As things stand, there’s every reason for me to say no and resume our isolation. I don’t disapprove of your cause, but the welfare of Nomad Base is my only concern.”
It was the best Nir-Tenbiku could have hoped for after ignoring Ingram’s warning not to visit Opis. It didn’t sound like an outright refusal, though, so it seemed open to further discussion. There were questions he wanted to ask, such as how humans gathered their intelligence on the Protectorate, but they would have to wait.
“I’m grateful for your forbearance, Captain,” he said. “Thank you for being open with me.”
“One last thing. If you’re ready to take Gan-Pamas home, we’ve prepared him for repatriation.”
Ingram had kept her word. Nir-Tenbiku couldn’t tell if it was her way of removing an excuse for him to come back, a tactic to soften him up, or simply that she’d meant what she said about treating the dead with respect. He opted for respect. If he’d misjudged her, he’d pay the price later, but he wanted to trust her, so he did.
“Thank you, Captain,” he said. “I’ll feel more at peace when he’s back with us.”
Ingram nodded. “I’ll have the coffin brought to your ship. All we’ve done is keep his remains preserved. We didn’t know what might be appropriate for Jattan funeral customs, so if we’ve done something wrong, it wasn’t out of carelessness or disrespect.”
“You seem unusually understanding, given what happened to your comrade.”
“Gan-Pamas didn’t kill Nina Curtis. The teerik did.”
“I will find an appropriate way to apologise properly for your loss.”
“Ensuring we never engage in conflict again will be enough.”
It was an awkward and sudden way to end a meeting of such importance, but Nir-Tenbiku didn’t know what human courtesies were on taking leave of someone. The discussion had been short and pointed, but not unfriendly, and he wanted to keep it that way. Ingram walked him outside with Solomon following and they stood on the steps to wait for Marc to bring the vehicle.
“Where are all your people?” Nir-Tenbiku asked, scanning the landscape. He shielded his eyes and tried to sense movement, but the echoes that came back to him showed deserted land.
“Sheltering.” Ingram looked up at the sky. The red avian creature Nir-Tenbiku had seen on the probe feed was circling overhead, looking down as if they were prey. It was probably another working animal just like the dogs, then. It looked very much like a teerik in many ways. “We didn’t know what to expect when we detected your ships, and we weren’t taking any chances.”
“I didn’t mean to cause alarm. Are you angry?”
“I was initially, but as you said, we’re neighbours now and it’s better that we find a way to get along. I’m sure we’ve both collected enough enemies already and we don’t need any more.”
Nir-Tenbiku still hadn’t asked why humans had come here. He didn’t know where their homeworld was, but they’d left it to build colonies for a reason that Ingram hadn’t volunteered, so perhaps the comment about enemies was a clue. Cudik would complain that he’d come back without essential intelligence, but someone of Ingram’s rank would resent being pressured, and Nir-Tenbiku still had more than a glimmer of hope that he might get his operating base here. He had no intention of jeopardising that.
“If you think of anything that your base might need,” he said, “my link remains open and I’m ready to talk at any time.”
Ingram still seemed perfectly relaxed. “Thank you, Primary.”
He decided he liked her, if only because she was unexpectedly easy to talk to, but that might have been due to the emanation improving its Jattan since they’d last spoken. He should have been wary of aliens who seemed so much like Jattans in their outlook, and considered that he’d misinterpreted the superficially familiar, but his instinct said otherwise.
Marc pulled up in the vehicle and aligned the passenger door with the step. Nir-Tenbiku bowed formally to Ingram before he got in, not knowing what else was appropriate. Ingram put her cap on and touched her hand to it in a way that looked like a formal courtesy.
“Safe journey, Primary,” she said.
Marc drove off. “Are you sure you can get back to your rendezvous point from here?”
“Yes, once I’ve linked to Steadfast. The course will be recalculated for me and sent to the ship for it to follow.”
“Steadfast. That’s the kind of ship’s name the Royal Navy would use. Captain Ingram would approve.”
“I didn’t mention it to her.”
“I’ll let her know.” Marc glanced in the small mirror mounted on the vehicle’s door. “The bearer party’s right behind us with your friend’s coffin. I’m sorry about the informality, but it’s the best we could do.”
Humans did seem to apologise a lot, even the ones with considerable status, but it looked more like the confidence of being dominant and able to make the gesture without loss of face. Nir-Tenbiku was learning. He wasn’t sure what Marc meant by a bearer party, but when they reached the ship it became clear.
Six uniformed troops got out of the vehicle that was following and carefully lifted a plain box the size of a human, three on each side. They carried it on their shoulders to the open cargo hatch. So the humans used solid shrouds, then, not woven ones, but they did cover the dead. The box was much too big for Gan-Pamas. It was probably what Marc meant by the best they could do, though, and that somehow made it rather touching.
Nir-Tenbiku followed, uncertain but taking the troops’ lead. The men walked at a synchronised pace completely unlike the other humans. These people had mechanicals for manual tasks, so carrying the box personally had to be part of a ritual, a theory that was confirmed when they lowered the box onto the deck and stepped back to make that same gesture that Ingram had, a straightened hand held briefly against their brows.
“Will you take him back to Dal Mantir eventually?”
Nir-Tenbiku didn’t realise Marc was behind him. “Yes. He’s got to return to his ancestors.” He’d done his best to keep his grief in check, but now he was close to wailing like a child. “Is that something humans do?”
“Sometimes,” Marc said. It was impossible to read the expression on his face this time, but his breathing was a little more rapid. “But sometimes we can’t.”
“Thank you for the courtesies, General,” he said. “This has meant a great deal to me.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t take sides, but I hope Jatt gets its independence. Good luck.”
Marc walked to the ship’s bow and stood waiting while Nir-Tenbiku boarded and the hatches were sealed. When the drive started up, he walked away.
“Steadfast, this is Primary Nir-Tenbiku. Please transmit a recovery course. I’m returning.”
The console lit up. Commander Nesh sounded relieved.
“We were worried about the lack of contact, Primary. We would have come to extract you if it had gone on much longer.”
“It’s as well that you didn’t, Commander,” Nir-Tenbiku said. He hadn’t been gone that long, but they weren’t used to him going anywhere without a security detail. “Captain Ingram and I are building trust. Our discussion went well. I’m returning with Gan-Pamas, so stand by to transfer his remains. The humans have been very gracious. Almost Jattan, in fact.”
He gestured to the console to lift off. The ship, no longer under his control, followed the trajectory set for it and the sky darkened from blue to black. When the ship acquired its course, Nir-Tenbiku muted the comms and made his way aft to the cargo bay. He could finally grieve for his friend. He stood over the box and put his hand on it.
“Iril, you did your duty. You completed the mission. But it was such a high price.” He’d make sure Gan-Pamas was commemorated with a statue when Jatt was liberated. “You’re going home, my friend. Now it’s up to me to deliver the victory.”
Nir-Tenbiku wondered if he was being too optimistic about human cooperation, but the hour he’d spent on Opis had given him enough hope to sustain him. The rightful government of Jatt was no longer completely alone, and Ingram had left many doors open to further talks.
It would be a great pity if the renewed Jatt nation couldn’t count humans among their allies one day. These aliens understood the importance of doing things properly.
* * *
Main building, Nomad base: ten minutes later.
The all-clear siren sounded and Nomad came to life again.
First the civilian vehicles reappeared on the road out of Kill Line, resuming whatever tasks had been interrupted. Then the real-time map showed people on the move around the base again. Ingram had that wrung-out, restless feeling she associated with the end of a battle, when she was still crackling with adrenaline but had nobody left to fight.
She leaned on the rail outside the entrance, watching the icon activity on her screen more for its calming aquarium effect than to see who was where. She hadn’t made any progress by talking to Nir-Tenbiku, just rearranged the furniture, and Nomad was now almost as handcuffed to the Jattan opposition as it was to the bloody teeriks. Nir-Tenbiku knew about the base, and if Ingram handed him Curtis, the Protectorate would find the ship a lot sooner because they were already keeping an eye on the rebels. Would Nir-Tenbiku keep his mouth shut about Nomad if the worst happened?
Ingram doubted it. There was no reason for him to give a damn what happened to humans, certainly not enough of a damn to put himself at risk for them. But even if she kept the ship, the vulnerability was there already. She thought about Chris’s warning. If Nir-Tenbiku’s security was lax, he’d effectively drawn a map of where to find Opis, the ship, and the teeriks. A militantly neutral place like Esmos was probably an espionage hub. Just because foreigners didn’t dare assassinate their enemies on Esmosi turf, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t take advantage of having them within easy spying distance.
And for a proud Jattan aristocrat — if that was what he meant by the old families of Jatt — Nir-Tenbiku seemed too deferential. He’d been unusually understanding for someone whose friend had been killed by humans. Perhaps he really was a nice chap who believed in forgiveness, but it was equally possible that he was keeping his powder dry to avenge Gan-Pamas later, having done his recce to see how well-defended Nomad was.
Ingram felt no better for getting Gan-Pamas’s body off her hands. There was no proof yet that the Jattans in exile were the good guys. Bissey could well turn out to be right, but hindsight was a luxury she hadn’t had at the time and things could easily have gone badly wrong if she’d just kicked Gan-Pamas out with everything he’d discovered. There was no point in dwelling on it. She’d find out now whether Solomon had managed to slip spyware into the Jattans’ systems with the navigation data he’d sent them.
“When are you planning to hold the after-action review, Captain?” Solomon appeared at her side. “Everyone’s had time to digest the recording.”
“You’re nagging me, Sol.”
“Yes, I am. I can assemble everyone in a meeting room, or you can discuss it on the secure net.”
The definition of everyone changed according to the subject to be discussed, but for now it was the Gang of Three, Searle, and Alex. They’d been patched into the feed for the meeting and could have prompted Ingram via her earpiece if they’d disagreed with her line of questioning, but inevitably more questions crossed minds after the event. Ingram was now having a military kind of esprit de l’escalier moment. There were questions she wished she’d asked and points she should have made, if only to see Nir-Tenbiku’s reaction.
“Okay, radio,” she said. “Searle’s still shadowing the corvette, is he?”
“He is, Captain. He says he’s waiting to see Steadfast spacefold out of the region in case someone decides to launch a missile on the way out.”
“We’re such trusting souls. How’s your spyware doing?”
“I believe it’s managed to transfer itself to Steadfast now.”
“We’re going to hell, aren’t we? Nir-Tenbiku seems such a nice chap, but I hope his people don’t accept navigation data from everyone they meet.”
“I’m amazed he fell for it, to be honest.”
“Still, a species that names a warship Steadfast must have a touch of the Andrew about it.”
“Yes, I thought you’d approve of its Royal Navy flavour.”
“Let’s crack on, then. I’ll take the meeting up top.” She checked herself. “Bugger. Cosqui’s still with Searle, isn’t she?”
“Yes, that might limit his contribution to the discussion,” Solomon said. “Unless he listens on a headset and he’s careful what he says in her presence.”
“Send him a message, Sol. Tell him to take the call in the heads or something.”
“That’s one solution I hadn’t considered.”
“Low-tech ways are the best.”
Ingram detoured by way of the admin office kitchen to grab a mug of tea, keeping an eye on her screen. One by one the inset images popped up as people logged in. Marc looked like he was still at the temporary landing site, sitting in the rover. Ingram could see the scrubby bushes in the background. It wasn’t like him to hang around doing nothing.
“Ah, General Marc,” she said.
“It’s Brigadier Gallagher to you, Boadicea. I knew you’d take the piss about that.”
“I told him you were our most experienced soldier. It must be a translation issue.”
“Well, he’s on his way home now, and he was grateful for how we handled Gan-Pamas. At least he seems to like us more than Tim Pham does. Or he will until he finds out Sol added spyware to the navigation data. You could have told me in advance.”
“It was a last-minute decision. I’m sorry.” She could see he was annoyed. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Damn, she was slow on the uptake today. Of course he wasn’t fine. He’d just had to watch a repatriation flight. Why couldn’t she think these things through beforehand?
“We can open one of my special bottles tonight.” It was the first concession she could think of while negotiating the stairs with a full mug in one hand and her screen in the other. “The proper gin.”
“What are we celebrating?”
“I don’t know. Being alive. Kill Line election results. Making it as far as Tuesday.”
But Chris and Trinder came online, then Alex, and the conversation had to wait. Searle was the last to connect. His background showed he was in a cramped compartment that was more like a locker and he didn’t appear to be sitting down.
“Brad, are you in the heads?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Searle kept his voice down. “And this is why I always left the ship to relieve myself when I was working. No seat and no toilet bowl. I have no idea what Jattans do in here and I don’t want to know.”
“Hang in there, Commander.” Ingram sat down at her desk. “So, gentlemen, how did that go and what have we learned?”
“We’re buggered,” Marc said. “Another bunch of aliens know where we live and that’s another weak link. Even if we give them Curtis and tell them to sling their hook.”
Ingram wished Marc was a telepath. Then she’d have thought he’d just read her thoughts and agreed with them to back her up. But he wasn’t. He was just stating the obvious, and it was depressing to have it confirmed.
“Could have been worse,” Trinder said. “Nobody shot anybody and Nir-Tenbiku went away with something he wanted. And he seems big on duty. All the little military touches made him feel at home. Not exactly fitting in with our new-bastards-on-the-block policy, though.”
“Yes, thank you for scrambling the bearer party, Dan. Class act.” Ingram tried to turn the problem into an advantage the way Marc insisted you always could. “What do we think of our outcast president-not-elect, then?”
“He didn’t ask many questions,” Chris said. “I’d have been trying to find out our numbers and what hardware we had. And he didn’t actually ask for Curtis. He kind of hinted. Maybe Jattans are even more oblique than you Brits and we didn’t pick up on it.”
“Or the translation didn’t get the tone of it,” Ingram said. “But he wants it. It cost him his friend.”
“If they have Curtis, they get the blame for the hijacking and look hard-core, but that doesn’t help us much. If the opposition gets busted, there’s a whole warship-load of Jattans who know where we are and that we’re a potential threat to the Protectorate. They’ll rat us out the moment they have to. It doesn’t make much difference if we keep the ship or not.”
“Unless Nir-Tenbiku’s going to be a long-term distraction for the Protectorate and Kugad,” Searle said. “His guys are going to end up fighting on Dal Mantir. The ship’s designed for covert Jattan on Jattan assaults and police actions, and she could be a real pain in everyone’s ass if she’s used properly. What we need here is directed energy weapons to stop an enemy landing and a few more conventional aircraft to give air support for ground combat if we can’t. So we don’t need Curtis, but we might need Nir-Tenbiku to have her so he can keep the others off our back.”
