A Matter of Honor: A Terran Empire novel
VIII
Medart's night was equally disturbed, though since Corina was youngerand had had a more peaceful life, his dreams were less troubling.
He saw/was Corina, about seven years old Standard, receiving hersoul-blade from an elderly Order initiate in a ritual as old as theOrder itself. He was impressing her mind pattern on the blade with aspecialized form of darlas, and her acceptance of it would signifytechnical adulthood, though she would stay with her parents for sometime yet. The dagger, ideally, should never leave her while she lived,and now he felt the reason as well as knowing it. The pattern-imprintingmade the blade literally a part of her.
Scattered memory-bits of school and family, nothing particularlysignificant until her discovery of her Talent, accidentally made whileshe was basking in the sun beside her favorite fountain. Althoughshe'd said it had been weeks before she'd learned to read thoughts notspecifically directed at her, Medart realized that she must have beensubconsciously blocking them, because that was how she'd made heraccidental discovery.
For details of Corina's discovery, see TALENT
Medart shifted his position in bed, her memory-feelings enough to pushhim out of that dream but not waken him. He soon slid into anotherone, rather patchy at first. Her first meeting with Thark, High Adeptof the White Order, who was impressed and pleased by a Talent shewasn't sure she was happy to have since it had cost her the future shedreamed of. There were later memories of them together; after she hadforced her regret into the background, they had developed a profoundregard and respect for each other, though much of it was hidden bytheir formal teacher-student relationship.
Then came their breakup, in full detail. Medart experienced it all,from the friendly greeting and Thark's comments on her ability, throughher discovery of the Crusade and her rejection of it, to theirdeclaration of mutual enmity. Outwardly quiet though that had been, ithad enough of an emotional charge to awaken the Ranger.
A glance at his chrono showed 0405. Too late, the way he felt, to goback to sleep, so he rose, showered, and dressed. Then he sent atentative inquiry. *You awake?*
*Yes.* Hopefully, *Would you care to join me?*
*You bet. I'll be right there.*
He was soon seated in one of the armchairs in her cabin, balancing asteaming cup of coffee on its arm. Corina still sat at the desk,sipping at her second glass of milk.
"That was quite an experience," Medart finally said. "Especially thatlast meeting with Thark."
"And your feelings when His Majesty pinned your badge on. It isstrange, is it not, how a small piece of metal can mean so much?"
She was skirting the subject, and both knew it, but Medart went along.Patience now, he felt, would pay off later.
"There's an ancient Terran proverb," he said, "that clothes make theman. It isn't literally true, of course, and the badge certainlydoesn't have any intrinsic power, but humans are very strongly affectedby symbols. This one," he tapped the badge on his chest, "can traceits history back to before the Empire, even back before atomic energy.It's meant official authority in one form or another since at least thesecond century pre-atomic, and for centuries before that--maybelonger--it was believed to be a particularly powerful magical symbol."
Corina nodded, appreciating his intent as well as his explanation. "Ithink I understand, though clothes are relatively new to us, andsymbols of that sort affect us far less strongly." She smoothed herkilt. "What you wear affects the way others act toward you, but doesit not also affect your own feelings?"
Medart nodded, but remained silent as he sensed her growingcomprehension.
"That, then, is why you and the others wish me to face Thark as aRanger. The added psychological advantage."
"Yes, partly," Medart said. "You do have the ability--compare yourselfto me when I was tapped, if you still have doubts--and the uniform andbadge will give you the extra edge of confidence you need to use thatability fully. The other part is the way seeing you as a Ranger willaffect Thark, since his main grievance--aside from our supposed lack ofTalent--is the real lack of high-ranking Irschschan Imperial officers."
"The second is certainly true. The first . . ." Corina fell silent,retracing her borrowed memories to Medart's first meeting with Perry.She ignored the surface this time through, digging for the deepermemories, and those confirmed Medart's words. Their specific abilitiesdiffered, but the general level was approximately the same. Anddespite mistakes he thought of as idiotic--she winced at the recurringthought of that Traiti deception--he had done well.
"None of us is perfect," he said mildly. "We're mortals, not gods, andwe've all made mistakes."
"Yes, I see that," she said at last. "Your memories are mostconvincing." She paused, took a deep breath, then nodded. "Very well,Ranger Medart. I accept the burden."
Medart seemed to relax all over, though he hadn't seemed particularlytense. "As Arlene said, none of us asked for this job. Anyone who didwould be the sort we wouldn't want. And it does have compensations,you know, both social and financial; you'll learn about those as yougo. And remember we're not the only ones with a lot of confidence inyour ability; Thark knew you could handle being a member of the PrimeChapter, though he had his aims for you set too low. Okay, let's makeit official. Emperor Chang?"
"Yes, Ranger Medart?"
"Formal voiceprint confirmation for Empire Net ident and securityinput. This is Ranger James Kieran Medart, ident code RJT-6743-5197."
There was a brief pause, then the ship-comp said, "Voiceprintconfirmed. Awaiting input."
"Change ident code ISCCJ-1643-2048 to RCJ-1643-2048. Delete allsecurity restrictions from the individual identified by that code, andrelay to any peripherals that Corina Losinj of Irschcha has beenselected as a Ranger."
"Acknowledged. Request formal voiceprint from Ranger Losinj."
Medart nodded to Corina, smiling. "Go ahead, Rina."
Corina glanced at him, then decided she liked both the nickname and hisuse of it. "Thank you, Jim. Empire Net, this is Ranger Corina Losinj,ident code RCJ-1643-2048."
"Thank you, Rangers. Is there anything else?"
"No," Medart said, then looked at Corina, smiling. "Welcome toImperial service, Ranger Losinj. Now that the formalities are over,you might want to get into uniform; we should call His Majesty with thegood news, then have breakfast."
"That would seem proper," Corina agreed, "though I would prefersomething other than your style. A kilt is nice, with a cloak for badweather, and the sporran is useful--but I do not think I would becomfortable with fitted garments all over, such as yours."
"Good point," Medart said. "Since uniforms are supposed to be bothconvenient and a form of easy identification, there's no reason youshouldn't use a kilt the right shade of green; along with the badge, itshould serve the purpose. And once we have time, you might want torecommend similar uniform changes for the Irschchan members of otherImperial services."
"Should we survive, I will do so." Corina went into her sleeping areaand ordered a complete uniform, though with kilt instead of shirt andtrousers, from the fabricator.
"Thark? There's him, of course," Medart called. "But there's no pointin worrying about him right now. Make your preparations, geteverything as ready as you can--then worry; it might let you findsomething you've overlooked."
"I will try." Corina shook her head, but Jim was right; she did tendto concern herself with problems that never arose, and that did wastetime.
Medart heard the fabricator's delivery bell ping, then sounds ofrustling cloth as Corina changed. The pattern rapport had made a bigdifference in her manner, he thought, and for the better. She was muchmore relaxed around him, even a little less formal. And she seemedmore sure of herself, which would help.
Corina felt strange, changing out of her accustomed bright garb intothe functional, if in her opinion unnecessarily drab, forest green.The fabricator had included an ankle-length cloak with heavy silverembroidery and the Imperial Seal; she consid
ered that for a moment,settled it over her shoulders long enough to admire it in the mirror,and removed it. That was for formal ceremonies in which she used hermilitary rank and title, not for every day. There was a visored hat,as well, but she didn't try it on; such headgear did not take Irschchanear structure into account, so she planned to avoid wearing it. Andpossibly suggest another uniform change.
She stood holding the badge for a moment, still hesitating to take thefinal step and pin it on. It was only a small piece of platinum, astar in a circle, but it meant almost total independence and authority,subject only to the Sovereign, anywhere in Imperial space. It was odd,she thought, but this particular symbol affected her more than itshould. Either Irschchans were more symbol-conscious than she had beentaught, or this was a side effect of pattern rapport with a human.
She told herself to get on with it. She had accepted the job, why notits symbol? But it did not seem appropriate, after Jim's memories, topin it on herself--not the first time. She returned to the livingarea, held it out to Medart. "Would you mind?"
"Not at all. I'd be honored." Medart took the badge and pinned it tothe holder the fabricator had provided on her equipment belt.
To Corina's surprise--and Medart's satisfaction--her emotions when hedid so were a duplicate of his fifty-seven years earlier. Pride,determination--and the confidence that others' belief in you couldcreate.
*Yes,* Corina sent. *I have heard of such boosts, but had never quitebelieved in them. It is strange . . . I had always thought myselfunaffected by others' opinions, but it is clear I was wrong.*
*Sometimes it depends on who the others are,* Medart replied. *Someoneyou don't care about can't have more than a surface impact, pro or con;someone you do care about can have a disproportionate one. This is thewrong time for philosophy, though. Is that knife the only weapon youplan to carry? You might want to think about something with a littlemore range.*
"I think not," Corina said aloud. "I am not familiar with distanceweapons, since I am not a Sanctioner; my darlas should be adequate foranyone I cannot reach physically--after this mission, at least." Sheindicated the weapon at his belt. "Nor, I would say, am I the only oneto prefer unconventional weapons; that does not appear to be ablaster."
"It isn't," Medart said, drawing the weapon with a chuckle. "It's justas effective, though, maybe more so. It's a replica of a BrowningHi-Power 9mm automatic--a slugthrower. I had it made not long after Iwas tapped, and I have a standing order for fresh ammunition; it goes badafter a few years, even under shipboard conditions. It holds thirteenrounds in the clip--" which slid out as he pressed the release button,"and one in the chamber when I expect trouble. I can always carry moreclips if I expect a lot of trouble." He worked the action, then handedher the empty weapon.
Corina examined it carefully. It was too large for her hand, which sheexpected because it seemed to fit Jim's perfectly. She was impressedby the precise workmanship, too; it made the gun, deadly as it was, athing of great beauty.
"Why a slugthrower instead of a blaster?" she asked curiously.
"Personal preference," Medart replied. "For one thing, I happen tolike slugthrowers--and computers with keyboards, and paper books. Foranother, more practical reason, it has stopping power a blaster can'tmatch, and it's noisy. A snap shot, if I'm surprised, will give metime enough to get in a second, well-aimed round. That's saved my lifea couple of times."
Corina handed it back, watched him reload and holster it. "It seems tobe an excellent weapon, but I prefer to rely on my blade and darlas."
Medart shrugged. "No arguing preference. And it's about time we getto work, so--" He called the Comm Center, told them to set up ascrambler call to the Emperor either at the Palace or aboard theEmpress Lindner. "And have it put through to my quarters," he added.Then he turned to Corina. "We'll have to have your quarters rigged forpriority communications, but until the techs can get to it, you'll haveto use mine or go to Briefing Room One. And my quarters are right nextdoor. I'd also recommend a comm implant, but that can wait if youdon't want to spend a couple of hours in sick bay; a wrist-com will doeverything you need for now."
"A wrist-com, then, until we complete this mission."
* * * * *
The screen was flickering blue even as they entered the human Ranger'scabin, then it cleared to show a sleepy-looking Davis. "Morning, Jim.What's up?"
"Sorry to wake you, sir, but for a change it's good news. We haveanother Ranger."
Davis smiled. "Losinj? That's the kind of news I don't mind gettingout of bed for. How did you manage to convince her?"
"I didn't, sir, at least not in any conventional way. We had atraining accident." Medart briefly described the pattern rapport andmemory exchange, then went on, "I'm putting her in charge of thismission and going on backup."
"Right," the Emperor said. "That's what I'd do; Thark's her problemanyway. I'll pass on the good news to Rick and the others." He turnedhis attention to the young Irschchan. "I'm glad to have you with usall the way, Ranger Losinj."
"Thank you, sir." Corina hadn't expected to be put in complete charge,but she wasn't totally surprised; it was logical, given thecircumstances, and Jim's memories did indicate that Ranger training--what there was of it--had a tendency to be rather abrupt.
"Before we get to serious planning," the Emperor said, "have you givenany thought to the arms you want?"
"Arms? No, sir." It was traditional, Corina knew, for a new Ranger touse the arms of one who had died--but that tradition had not evenoccurred to her.
"May I make a suggestion, then?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"I think Steve Tarlac's would be appropriate. Hovan told me ClanCh'kara's Speaker for the Lords said our next Ranger would be hisspiritual heir--and now that we've found you, that seems reasonable."
Corina bowed. "I would be honored to bear the Peacelord's arms, sir,though I do not know if I can live up to his example."
"It won't be easy, but then neither are any of our jobs." Davis grewsober. "Back to our present situation. So you can plan, Rick and Iare in space now, as you suggested, outside Sol System. Only theship's captain and navigator know our location. I've ordered thedefense satellites not to fire on any Irschchan ships. Since you'resure Thark will be leading the attack, we'll be using Jim's plan: Iwant Thark to land and take action against the Palace itself, and toprevent unnecessary damage, I'm making it as easy for him as I can. Asa ruling noble, he'll have no trouble getting through the Complex'sweather dome, and he'll find the Palace's security screen has somehowbeen left off. The Guards have orders not to fire until he takeshostile action."
"I understand, sir. I may not be able to take him alive for aTribunal, though. I may not be able to take him at all."
"It's not necessary to take him alive," Davis replied after a moment'sthought. "A Tribunal isn't essential, it's the evidence that is. Ifyou can't take him at all--" He was silent for a moment, then said,"All right. How long will it take if you can handle him?"
"Less than half an hour, certainly; probably no more than fifteenminutes."
"Considering the size of the Palace," Davis pointed out, "it could takeyou longer than that just to find him." He thought for a moment."Signal Defsat Five when you land. They'll have their orders, and ifthey don't receive a second signal from you within an hour, they'llblast the Palace and everything for ten kilometers around it. I don'twant that to happen--it'd mean losing four Rangers, as well as a coupleof hundred thousand people, and probably destroy the Complex--but eventhat is better than a rebellion that would cost millions or billions oflives throughout the Empire."
"I will do my best to avoid that, Your Majesty."
"I know you will," Davis said. "Still, for the first time, I'mgrateful that politics forced Chang to have the Palace built inAntarctica. A strike like that almost anywhere else would kill a hellof a lot more people."
"Yes, sir."
&nbs
p; "Don't hesitate to call me if you have to. But unless there's anythingelse, I'll sign off now and let you get back to work."
"I have nothing more, sir," Corina answered, and the screen went bluemomentarily before it shut off.
She was unfamiliar with Terran geography, but everyone knew about thefabulous Imperial Palace. Isolated in the heart of a frozen continent,it was the center of the Palace Complex, a hundred-kilometer-diametercircle of parklike city. She didn't understand the physics of themodified defense screen that allowed it to exist in spite ofAntarctica's climate, but the politics Davis had mentioned were clearenough.
The Solar Federation's capital had been in Ceres, but when Nannstein'sdiscovery of hyperdrive had triggered the necessary change fromFederation to Empire, that had been abandoned. The Empire needed acenter on Terra itself as a symbol of unity, yet squabbling about itslocation among the planetary powers had made that unity a mockery untilEmperor Chang stepped in.
It was his decision that, since the Empire was not concerned with localpolitics--it couldn't be and still govern the Empire as a wholeproperly--the Palace would not be located on any individual nation'sterritory. That made Antarctica the only possible place. Covered bymultinational treaties and with no permanent inhabitants, it had nonational identity.
And she would be going there, going to the Palace itself . . . as aRanger. What would her parents think? Corina hoped they would beproud--
Medart interrupted her musing. "How about breakfast? I don't knowabout you, but I'm hungry."
"So am I," Corina agreed. "And we have plans to make."
"Correction," Medart said. "You have plans to make. All I'm going todo is listen and critique."
They took an intraship shuttle to Mess One, intended for seniorofficers and at this hour quite empty, unlike the always-busy MessThree. They got their meals and ate silently while Corina decided onher plans.
"The first thing, I think," she finally said, "is to find anyone elseaboard with mind shields, to make a combat group. I have metsurprisingly many--four out of perhaps three hundred--yet five of uswill accomplish little against Thark and the Seniors of the PrimeChapter."
"Right," Medart agreed, "since unshielded ones wouldn't last long. Whoelse have you found?"
"Besides yourself, there is Colonel Greggson, as you know from theconference. Also Captain Hobison, and the small Marine from thedemonstration, Lieutenant DarLeras."
"That one somehow doesn't surprise me," Medart commented.
Corina purred briefly. "He is the first Sandeman warrior I have met,but from my reading and your memories of the warrior Gaelan, I am alsonot surprised. An enthusiastic fighter, of course, and even shielded,I sense great potential in him."
"He's got that, all right," Medart agreed. "First in last summer'sgraduating class at the Academy in the Complex, and if he'd fit thepsych profile better, he would've been approached about the Rangers.But he can't help thinking of combat as a preferred option rather thana last resort." Medart paused. "It might interest you, and supportsyour theory, that Captain Hobison was asked. He refused, but thatdoesn't change his abilities."
"Four out of the first five either Rangers or Ranger-level," Corinasaid thoughtfully. "Colonel Greggson is not?"
"What do you think? No--too inflexible, not enough regard for others,too narrow an orientation. He's at the top of his field or he wouldn'tbe on an IBC, but he's definitely not Ranger material. Go on."
"Once we have found any shielded people, we must develop your Talent,in particular your shield and darlas. You do have the ability, but itwill be of little use without better control than you have yetachieved. And greater power, as well. Admittedly, you did knock meout yesterday; that, however, was in part because I had partiallylowered my own shield, trying to feel any trace of your darlas. Thatis one mistake I do not plan to repeat."
"I should hope not!" Medart said emphatically. "You gave me quite ascare, and I'd rather not `be' any more people than I have to."
"It is imperative that we find out about the aspect of your Talent Ihave, for lack of a better term, called reverse darlas. A thing notunderstood may be a help or a hindrance. We must discover which thisis, and if it is a help, how best to use it."
"Yeah, and if it's a hindrance, how not to use it. What about timing?"
"I am concerned about that," Corina admitted. "I hope to have the weekto ten days you need for even minimal training, but I must plan onless. I am almost positive of another four days, though, which willhelp."
"So what are you going to do with the ship in the meantime? Our TerraETA is 0330 tomorrow. Chang's too big to land, and we'd be prettyconspicuous in orbit."
"Urrr." Corina hadn't thought about that. "Does that system not havea band of debris? Between the fourth and fifth planets, I believe."
Medart nodded. "The asteroid belt."
"Then instead of going into orbit, we stay there. I will give thedefense satellites instructions to call us when Thark lands. The delaybetween our getting that message and our arrival in orbit, plus thetime to land, should take perhaps twenty minutes, from the theory Iremember. That will allow him to attack the Palace and provide theevidence His Majesty wishes."
"You're assuming Chang's navigator can plot that short a hyperspaceflight with a lot of precision."
"Yes. I believe it a valid assumption, or he would not be conning aRanger's chosen ship."
"Logical reasoning, and very true. All three of our navigators areevery bit that exact. It sounds good; now we just hope it works. Oneof our ancient poets wrote, `The best laid plans of mice and men gangaft a-gley,' and he was right."
"That was Robert Burns," Corina said. "One of your early scientistsput the same idea another way: `Anything that can go wrong will gowrong.'" She felt Medart's surprise at the identification and quote."I was not probing; Terran poetry interests me, particularly Burns,Service, and Kipling. Except for ancient war chants, Irschcha haslittle that can be called poetry."
"Nice to know you have interests that don't show up on your records,"Medart said.
"What do you mean?"
"As I said earlier, it's not so much what you know as how your mindworks that counts, as long as you have the basics. You can always findout any facts you need. But being interested in a variety of things isessential; you never know what's going to come in handy. Poetrydoesn't seem particularly promising, but on the other hand, as I said,you never know."
The mess was starting to fill as the senior officers trickled in forbreakfast. By the time the two Rangers finished eating, all butCaptain Hobison and Commander Jensen were there.
Until they stood to leave, nobody paid any particular attention toCorina; it wasn't surprising that Medart's special assistant shouldjoin him at a meal. When they did stand, however, Commander Pappasgave an exclamation of surprise, and the room grew silent. That didn'tlast long; the murmur of conversation resumed, but now, from whatCorina could hear, with herself as the subject. The tone was more awedthan surprised after that first exclamation, and Corina assumed thatword of the previous day's war council was no longer restricted to theCommand Crew.
Jim must have picked that up, she thought, or possibly he was justanticipating her reaction. "It's impossible to keep rumors fromcirculating aboard ship," he said, "especially about something as rareas a potential Ranger. The word was probably all over Chang withinfifteen minutes after His Majesty dismissed the Command Crew. There'sno harm in it."
They entered a shuttle, and Medart ordered it to the Bridge. "We'llmeet Captain Hobison there, so he'll get the news directly, notsecond-hand. He normally has breakfast in his cabin, and goes straightto the Bridge."
Corina nodded. "And I must tell him my plans, as well. But what aboutthose rumors? What if I had continued to refuse?"
"You're starting to sound like Sunbeam," Medart laughed. "The rumorswould have tapered off eventually, after giving the crew something abit different to talk about for awhile."
T
he shuttle slowed to a stop, its door sliding open. The Bridge, asthe ship's nerve center, was of course always fully crewed; ChiefEngineer Jensen, on duty as Senior Officer of the Watch, was seated inthe Command chair. He swung the chair around to face them as theyentered, saying, "You're early, Cap-- Huh?" He stood and saluted, hisexclamation attracting the attention of the rest of the Bridge crew.They also started to stand.
"As you were," Medart said, returning Jensen's salute. The Bridgereturned to near-normal, though with more than the usual amount ofnon-duty conversation.
Corina saw Jensen's hand move toward the chair's comm controls, andspoke. "No, Commander. There is no need to disturb Captain Hobison; Iunderstand he will be here shortly."
"Uh, yes, sir."
They waited in silence, both Rangers moving to stand at the left of theCommand chair. The shuttle door finally slid open again and Hobisonemerged. He raised one eyebrow in surprise at the sight of Corina'sbadge, but went through the routine of relieving Jensen before he saidanything. Change of watch completed, he seated himself in the Commandchair and turned to face the pair. "He talked you into it, did he,Ranger Losinj?" The words were neutral, but the tone was warm."Knowing Rangers, I suppose he's put you in charge of this mission."
"Yes, Captain, to both. I would like to tell you my plans as soon asyou have the time."
"I've got it now, Ranger. Here or in the briefing room?"
"It might as well be here. The whole crew will need to know." Corinabraced herself mentally. This was real; she was giving orders to theCaptain of an Imperial Battle Cruiser, certain they would be obeyed."When we arrive in the Terran system, take station in the asteroidbelt. Then call Defense Satellite Five and have them inform us of anyIrschschan ship landing near the Palace. When you receive that word,start for Terra and call me. As soon as you have Chang in orbit,Ranger Medart and I, along with any crew members who have mind shieldsand are willing to volunteer, will take a lander down and attempt totake Thark in the act of invading the Palace."
"After your demonstration," Hobison said, "I can understand why youwant people with mind shields, but everyone aboard this ship is alreadya volunteer. You don't need to ask them again."
"I realize that, Captain, but in this case I would prefer to. DefsatFive has orders to blast the Palace and its immediate surroundingsunless I can defeat Thark within an hour of our landing. As I toldRanger Medart, the assault team will have at best a twenty percentchance of survival."
Hobison nodded. "Right. Am I shielded?"
"Yes."
"Then you have one volunteer. Anyone else in the Command Creweligible?"
"There is Colonel Greggson. Only one of the others I have scanned sofar has a usable shield, and I plan to speak to him shortly. That iswhy the whole crew must be informed of those facts. Ranger Medart andI will have to check everyone. Be sure to emphasize, please, that wewill be checking only for shields; their private lives will remaintheir own."
"Jim?" Hobison looked startled. "What's this all about? You meanyou've got Talent like hers?"
"Uh-huh." Medart was purposely informal, trying to ease Hobison'sobvious shock. "You'd already left when I told His Majesty. There'sno sense in trying to keep it a secret; she's trained me to be as gooda telepath as she is, and she's teaching me darlas. I'll needvolunteers, too, to practice on. They'll be in no danger, since she'llbe monitoring everything I do until she's satisfied with my control."
"I'll make the announcement," Hobison said after a few moments'silence. "But I was definitely right--captaining a Ranger's ship isanything but boring."
"The same goes for being a Ranger," Medart said, smiling.
"I've noticed. I'll get on it right away. Where do you want tostart?"
"Sherwood Forest," Corina decided, "then work our way south. I cansense the presence of shields with a shipwide scan, but not the precisestrength, location, or most important, who is shielded." Then shecorrected herself. "No, that is not precisely correct. If I alreadyknow the person, I can tell identity from the shield pattern, but eventhen, not the location. The `finding' aspect of my Talent,unfortunately, is limited to inanimate objects."
She turned to Medart. "We had best start now. Our time is limited."