The Lotus Eaters

Anno Condita 472 Building 59, Fort Muddville, Balboa, Terra Nova

The air in the operations center was thick with anger and with loss.

Janier's face was pale and drawn. The Gallic Navy only had seven attack submarines, one of those getting long in the tooth, and to lose one of the newest, the most modern . . .

If the Navy tries to pin this on me, merde, I'm screwed.

"Are the squids absolutely certain the Diamant was destroyed?" he asked of de Villepin.

De Villepin turned to Surcouf, standing by his side. The naval officer looked, if anything, even more distressed than Janier. Well, I can understand that, de Villepin thought. Boy likely had comrades aboard the Diamant. At least friends of friends. And that was his service's boat. The question though . . .

"No doubt at all, general," Surcouf answered, distantly, as if awakening from a bad dream. "No doubt . . ."

"But . . . but how?"

"They had torpedoes, Volgan-made probably; supercavitators. We didn't know they had them," Surcouf answered. "I'm not sure how they got them, or when, or where they could have mounted them. But that they have them there is no doubt."

"And they went hunting for the pride of our fleet armed like this? Do the madmen want to bring down the entire weight of the Tauran Union on their little brown shoulders? Does this mean war, now?"

De Villepin shook his head. "I don't think so. Other than support to the forces they have hunting guerillas down in La Palma, there's absolutely nothing unusual going on. It's as if the Balboans are unaware that we're hunting their submarine."

"Could it be a rogue submarine, then?" Janier asked.

Surcouf answered, "No. There are two submarines at sea and, while one of them went to intercept the Charlemagne, the other is likely off somewhere in the Shimmering Sea, nowhere near the action. No," he repeated, "I think this is just a test of their equipment and ours . . . a test that's gotten out of hand. Badly out of hand."

"I don't think Carrera knows what's happening, just as Surcouf has said," de Villepin finished.

"Who fired first?" the general asked.

"The people I spoke to tried to downplay it," Surcouf answered, "but, based on what they did say and what they didn't, I think we did."

"And they still destroyed our ship?"

"Boat," Surcouf corrected, absently. "Yes, we fired first but their torpedo was much, much faster."

"And they're still alive?"

"We think so. The admiral has four frigates hunting it, plus most of Charlemagne's helicopters. He, at least, believes they're still alive."

"What if we let them go?" Janier asked. "Will we look like fools, being bested by peasants?"

De Villepin said, "I've wondered about that. I don't think we have to worry. Whether Carrera wants a war with us or not—and he very well might—he wants it on his terms, with us as the plain aggressor. He has to have that, to ensure the Federated States stays neutral or comes in on his side. A simple sub duel, under questionable circumstances, wouldn't provide that moral cover and might make the FSC think hard about the kind of monster they're letting grow to maturity here, should he advertise the event.

"No, General, I think he'll swear that crew to secrecy and let the whole thing be forgotten. Assuming the crew escapes, of course, and that we say nothing."

"Forget that, sir," Surcouf said. "The . . . the admiral has his blood up. He'll stop hunting that submarine when Hell freezes or the sub's dead."

"We'll see about that," Janier said. "Connect me to the Charlemagne."