Counter-Measures

  Wilm is right. Too many of those and you won't have the judgment necessary to wipe your nose.

  She was licking the last of the crumbs off her fingers when Lacy leaned in the door, his agitation clear. "Magister? You'd better come quickly. We've got trouble on Phillipia. This Hanks fellow has just declared independence from the empire. The Regan loyalists are gathering now outside of the Administrator's residence. It could get ugly."

  Kaylla took a deep breath. "I'll be right there. Let me stop at the toilet. It might be a long session in the chair." "Right." Lacy vanished.

  Kaylla picked up her cup of stassa, aware for the first time that the surface rippled. She watched it in confusion until she realized her hands were shaking.

  Makarta loomed in Sinklar's dreams. The giant mountain rose black against the night sky while a chill wind moaned in the brooding pines that dotted the slopes. The slumbering fortress of cold basalt waited and watched.

  Sinklar stood before it, lonely and vulnerable, the cries of the dead echoing hollowly in the fastness before him.

  " Sinklar?

  The soft voice brought him awake. Sink blinked, oddly reassured by the white walls and the gentle hum. Before him, the three-dimensional depiction of the mountain's warrens gleamed in soft lime green.

  The holo had none of the threatening power of the actual mountain, yet here he would have to face his past-and his first defeat.

  ' Yes?" Sinklar glanced up at Mhitshul's worried face. His aide had adopted what Sinklar fondly called "that mother look. "

  ' 'The Lord Commander requests that you meet him in his quarters. "

  Sinklar nodded, pausing a moment to stare at the mountain. There, too, Staffa had been waiting. There, amidst those hidden tunnels and chambers, they'd fought.

  " All right. I'm on the way."

  Sinklar stood and worked the kinks out. As they neared the end of the jump, Makarta's presence grew closer, more powerful. Beckoning.

  Sinklar followed the corridors to the lift and took it to Staffa's deck. The giant hatchway passed him into Staffa's garish rooms. A fire crackled merrily in the huge fireplace, venting its smoke, the Blessed Gods knew where.

  Underfoot, the Nesian carpets shot bolts of color across the translucent floor. Soft lights bathed the artifacts on the walls and the stuffed Etarian sand tiger snarled down.

  Staffa kar Therma was nowhere to be seen. "Lord Commander?"

  "Lord Sinklar?" The commanding tones called from inside the open Ashtan door to the right of the fireplace. '61'm in here. "

  Sinklar sighed and entered Staffa's office. There, too, a schematic of the mountain had been projected.

  Staffa sat at his desk, surrounded by a ring of comm monitors. As usual, he wore his gray suit, though he slumped in the chair.

  "Mhitshul said you wanted me."

  Staffa nodded, an absorbed expression on his face. "We just dropped out of null singularity. I've received a communication from Kaylla. The situation in Free Space is growing worse. The one bright spot is that the weather is clearing on Imperial Sassa. A couple of freighters have arrived. The worst is probably over there. Phillipia, however, has deteriorated.

  Some fellow named Marvin Hanks dcclared a new government to be in power. The Regans living there objected. Riots broke out. People are dead."

  Sinklar nodded. "Ayms should be there soon. He'll settle them down. "

  Staffa glanced up thoughtfully. "Can he handle it?" Sinklar clasped his hands behind his back. "Kaylla has the comm net functioning?"

  "She reports that it's as good as it will get."

  "If he can coordinate with Axel and Shik, Ayms can handle anything. His Division is good. Each Group can act independently, using battle comm for communication. We started the system on Targa and refined it on Rega where we kept the lid on the riots. Axel caught on quickly. From a Corporal First to Dion Axel is only four jumps up the chain of command. Add Kaylla and you make five links in the chain."

  'Then Phillipia should be pacified rather quickly. Sinklar shrugged. "Some said the same thing about Targa. But, yes, I'm betting on Ayms. "

  "Bruen isn't coordinating events on Phillipia. Sinklar chewed at his lip.

  "About Bruen . "Go ahead."

  "You and I don't share quite the same opinion of the man. "

  Staffa picked up a stylus, rolling it between his fingers. "I can understand your feelings."

  "Can you? Just the mention of his name conjures the images of men and women who are dead because of him." Staffa nodded. "I understand. Believe me, we need him.

  He's the only human being alive who has dealt with the Mag Comm.

  "And he's coming to Targa as an unwilling party. I read Kaylla's report. I'll try to deal with him without breaking his neck, but I'll never trust him.

  "I know, Sinklar, but-"

  "Let me put it like this. Bruen is to me like the Praetor is to you. That old man manipulated me from the moment he,got his hands on me. He and his Seddi juggled my life. Their action got me drafted. When I went to war, it was to fight them. When I could have ended it, they wouldn't even talk to me. Bruen trained Arta Fera-and she killed Gretta. And at Makarta, they killed so many of my people.

  "Arta defied their probability."

  "Who cares! Probability be damned! That won't bring Gretta back! It won't bring any of the dead back. Turn the tables, Staffa. What if it were the Praetor? Put yourself in my position. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you could deal with him on a professional basis?"

  Staffa shook his head. "No. I probably couldn't."

  "It's going to be hard enough to enter that mountain ... walk past those corpses."

  Staffa spread his arms. "He was no more than the product of his times.

  Consider this. Had he not kept the Mag Comm at bay, who knows what Free Space would be like."

  "That's academic. I'm concerned with the here and now. "

  "So am I.-

  "Just between you and me, do you really think we can pull this off ? What have we got? An old man who didn't even flinch when it came to killing thousands? A computer that may have an agenda of its own? All of humanity waiting to turn on itself?" Sinklar shook his head. "Long odds, Lord Commander."

  Staffa vented a weary sigh. "They're the only odds we've got.

  Mac's stomach churned as he studied the holo projection of Ashtan. They sat around the table in the conference room. Across from him, Chrysla stared at the planet, a wistful look in her eyes. She leaned on her elbows, tapping a laser pen against her full lips. Boyz, Red, and Andrews occupied the other seats, each lost in his own thoughts.

  Rysta sat across from them, her attention on the globe turning slowly before them. "We still don't get any information from comm," Rysta said soberly.

  "From that, the best we can assume is that the entire planet is in a state of chaos. "

  Chrysla spoke then. "Using the files, I've located the major urban centers."

  Lights glowed on the holo. "These appear to be the most critical areas. They mark governmental centers, comm. installations, food distribution warehouses, and transportation nodes. To restore order, we'll have to control each of them."

  "I've been working with Rysta 's Comm First, " Boyz said thoughtfully.

  "Assuming

  we can take Comm Central, and assuming that minimal damage has been done to the computers, we should be able to program the system to restore preliminary capabilities within a couple of hours."

  "And what about the virus?" Mac asked.

  "We've got to wipe the system clean, " Rysta added. "The first program will be to overwrite in binary. From there, we've got a clean slate."

  Boyz continued. "We've got a patch to Itreata. Kaylla Dawn is sending base programs. They should provide a framework to proceed from. Not only that, but we should be able to utilize Ashtan comm personnel-if we can find them. "

  Chrysla triggered another light. "This is the capital. Mac and I will make planet here with A Group. The central system is here. Ass
uming the hardware is intact, we should be able to restore planetary communications within several hours. "

  "Meanwhile-" Mac pointed to the other lights"Groups B, C, D, E, and F will take these other objectives. Your first mission is to restore order. Use any means possible. "

  "Battle comms will tie us together?" Red asked.

  "I won't set foot outside my LC command post until they do," Mac told them.

  "Look, it's going to be something new for us. We have to make it up as we go.

  To do this right would take a Division. We only have a Section."

  "Sounds pretty iffy," Andrews muttered, shaking his head. "What if we drop into a full-scale civil war?"

  "We take the planet back," Mac stated simply. "The best estimation we can make is that the first ten hours will be the toughest. Ashtan doesn't have a violent history. When the people look up and see a battleship overhead and armed troops on the streets, they should fall into line."

  "The biggest enemy is fear." Chrysla met their eyes one by one. "Keep in mind, these people have had a major disaster. Their comm has been tampered with. The entire planetary system has broken down. As far as we know, they're not actually in revolt. Instead, the lights, water, and power have gone off. Ashtan is half rural. The people in the countryside won't be up in arms, it's the cities that suffer worst in such situations. The key to making this work is to stay calm.

  "Unless someone is shooting at you," Boyz stated. "Calm goes out the window real fast when a blaster bolt rips by your ears. "

  "Then you shoot back, " Mac told her sternly. "But each of you, remember this.

  You're professionals. Your duty is to restore the planet, not take it in an all out assault."

  Boyz nodded. "I understand, Mac. I just hope the Ashtans do, too."

  "We'll give them a briefing from space." Rysta said. "Any receivers should pick that up. People tend to quiet down when they know the Empire has arrived."

  "What's left of it," Red muttered. "So that's it? Just drop and take our objective. Reassure people and wait?" "Pretty much." Mac squinted at the holo.

  "The big

  problem is going to be.time. We've got to restore order and get things back to normal. " He paused. "We probably won't be getting much sleep once we hit dirt. "

  "Scramble like mad. Seems we've heard this before," Andrews quipped.

  "Expect any eventuality," Chrysla said as she leaned back. "Anything is possible from riots to delivering a baby. "

  Red grinned, shaking his head. "Hey, after that EVA in null singularity, I can handle it! Can I marry people, too?" "Sure." Mac grinned. "Just don't ask for the first night with the bride."

  "Any questions?" Mac glanced around.

  "I don't think so." Boyz shook her head, scratching at her fuzzy mop of hair.

  "I guess it won't be that much different than when we dropped on Rega. "

  "I hope not." That had gone smoothly enough-in the beginning. "Theoretically, Ily won't have her people here infiltrating. "

  "Unless they're already here," Rysta countered.

  "The Director of Internal Security spaced according to the reports we got. "

  Mac scowled at the holo. "Her un-

  derlings most likely fled, too. I don't expect any resistance from that quarter. " I

  "Then let's get at it," Rysta said as she stood.

  Mac waited while his people filed out, their chairs seeming to melt into the deck. Finally, he and Chrysla remained alone in the conference room, staring at each other across the table. "Anything else?"

  She shook her head. "If there is, it has eluded me. I've been over the records time and time again."

  Mac lifted her chin, seeing the haggard look in her eyes. "It will work out."

  She gave him a weary smile. "One way or another." Mac helped her to her feet.

  "We've got another twenty hours until the drop. Do me a favor and go get some sleep. "

  She sighed, "I'm not sure I can. There's so much that could go wrong. If I comb the data once more-"

  "That's an order." "But what if-"

  "Listen, I know this great trick. Come on. Let's go to your quarters. Once we're there, you lie down in your bunk-and I'll tell you a story. It's simple imagination. We're on a lake, in a boat, and the waves are rocking us." She lifted an amber eyebrow. "And then what?"

  He grinned. "I can't tell you." "Why not?"

  "It's simple physics. Why do you think a boat would rock on a placid lake in the middle of nowhere."

  "Mac! "

  "Hey, it's just imagination!"

  She patted him on the arm, hesitated, then thought better of it and walked toward the hatch. "I promise to try and sleep," she said over her shoulder.

  "And I'll imagine that boat, Mac."

  A welling sadness filled him as he watched her step through the hatch.

  If only they were in another place, another time. . . .

  "Rega One, docking clearance is granted for lock number forty-four, outer ring," Terguz Traffic Control informed.

  "Roger forty-four," Skyla answered. "Entry vector requested. " Are you ready for this, Skyla ? Or will you set foot on the docking ring and panic?

  "Roger, entry vector, Rega One. Prepare to receive." "Reception prepared. Send at will. Navcomm is ready." Will you see amber eyes staring at you from behind every bulkhead? Will you hear Ily whispering out of every ventilation shaft?

  "We've interfaced with your navcomm. Data transfer initiated. "

  "Roger, initiation. " Skyla watched the monitor flashing as the Terguzzi information fed into her system. "Initiation complete, Terguz. "

  She'd worked like a madwoman during the deceleration into Terguz. Pushing herself, she'd scrubbed the deck plating, piled the ridiculous gold trim and fixtures into sialon crates, ready to unload. With each swipe of the vibrascrub, she'd imagined Ilys pollution. Yes, wash yourself clean of the filth, Skyla. Scrub and rub, rub and scour, clean your soul, hour by hour

  "Roger, Rega One. Initiation compliance checked. From our readings, you have one hundred percent accuracy. " "Roger. Navcomm is signalling approach. " But have you

  cleaned enough, Skyla? The dreams and memories are still there, locked away in the hidden places. You couldn't reach them with your brush and suds.

  "Affirmative, Rega One. Do you want us to bring you in on remote?"

  "Negative, Terguz. I think I can ease her in." Silly woman. Piloting a ship is very different from steering your life. You're a fool, Skyla. A bloody fool, with hidden recesses offilth you'll never be able to cleanse.

  "Insurance is available. Low rates."

  Skyla grinned. "Your data is in comm. If I dent your station, the courts will have to figure it out." But who will figure you, Skyla Lyma?

  "Roger that, Rega One, we also have lawyers available. Low rates."

  "Affirmative. I'm sure you do." But so do I, bucky boy. "Initiating approach.

  "

  "Roger, Rega One. Terguz out."

  Through the heavy tactite, she could see the giant station that orbited Terguz. The station looked like four giant tires

  stacked on top of each other. Around the rim, small ships like her yacht could dock at gantries, attach to umbilicals, and mate locks. Big ships, like the four huge freighters that rested in parallel berths, had to put in along the axis where the giant barrel of a hub wouldn't be thrown out of balance. Commercial cargo was handled differently, generally crated in house-sized sialon boxes to be lightered to the planet below, or, if transshipped, shuttled to orbiting warehouses spaced around the planet.

  Skyla allowed the navcomm to handle the vector in. To her practiced eye, it appeared that Terguz had plotted everything correctly. Her yacht executed roll over at 0.5 k from the station.

  From the nose EDM she could measure her angle of approach. Accurate to within a fraction of a degree second. Skyla checked her throttle back and asked comm for a double check on Delta V. Everything computed.

  The station continued to fill the forward
port, masking the stars, obscuring the planet beyond.

  She'd considered announcing herself, then decided against it, opting instead for a simple Regan ID. She would register with the Port Authority as Silk. In her effects, she carried a valid Regan passport with that name, and the customs stamps from half the Regan worlds. Among other benefits of being Wing Commander of the Companions had been Regan diplomatic passports. All Companions had themSassan cards, too. After all, what good was all the money if a person couldn't go spend it every now and then in the flesh pots of the empires?

  The name Silk had come from abbreviating Skyla Lyma, Companions.

  Amber clearance lights blinked as the yacht's nose passed the outer rim. In the monitors, Skyla watched the station wall slip past, then nosed the yacht along the gantry.

  "Rega One, this is Dock Control. We have you on visual. You're fifty meters out. "

  "Thank you. Dock Control. Gantry approaching." "Roger, gantry approach. Looks like you're dropping right into the slot. TWenty-five meters. Grapples ready.

  "

  "Roger, grapples ready. I'm firing final reaction. Fire." "Roger. Ten meters.

  Five. Three. Two. One. Grapple." Skyla killed her maneuvering reaction.

  "Grapple."

  She felt the yacht shudder as the station grapples settled around her ship.

  "Good work, Terguz. "

  " We're mating the spaceway to your lock. Do you need customs clearance?"

  "Negative. I'm not bringing anything in. Just me." ,'Affirmative. We'll have security waiting at the lock. Financial information will be appreciated."

  :'Affirmative. ICs or gold?"

  'Gold if you've got it. Currently, we're not sure how stable the IC is going to be."

  Skyla laughed. "Gold it will be. I'll need immediate fuel up and resupply. I'm dumping a list of parts into your system. I'd like delivery ASAP. You can run a tech inspection, too, if you'd like."

  "Affirmative." The mention of gold had brought a sudden change of attitude.