The Trafalgar Gambit

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Local space seems clear, sir,” Flight Lieutenant Pixie Raga said.

“Glad to hear it,” Kurt said, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. Flying long-range patrol was always tricky, even without the constant threat of alien attack. He knew, even if his wingman didn’t, just how unlikely it was they would stumble across anything dangerous. Their presence was more inclined to ensure that any aliens intent on sneaking closer had second thoughts. “But you don’t need to keep repeating it again and again.”

He sighed. “Just keep one eye on your sensors and the other on your communications panel,” he added, “and everything should be fine.”

“Yes, sir,” Pixie said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. Pixie had been born on Luna and had the fairy-like build of a fifth-generation Luna citizen. If she hadn’t worked out endlessly from the moment she grew old enough to know what she wanted to do, she would have had real problems surviving on Ark Royal, let alone Earth. There were genetic treatments for problems caused by being born in a low-gravity field, but her parents had clearly refused to use them. Perhaps they’d just liked the thought of their daughter living up to her name.

The alien system was oddly disappointing. He would almost have welcomed a swarm of alien fighters, backed up by a pair of carriers, knowing it would distract him from his worries about the future. Instead, the alien settlers had completely ignored them, not even broadcasting towards the alien ship pacing the human flotilla. Kurt wasn’t sure if they were trying to stay out of the fighting or if they simply didn’t care. If scuttlebutt was correct, and the aliens organised themselves by political attitudes, logically there had to be some aliens who were completely indifferent to the war.

There are peaceniks back on Earth who think the war will ignore them if they ignore it, he thought, sardonically. A number had probably been drowned when tidal waves had battered the British coastline and swept inland. I wonder how many of them are in refugee camps right now?

The thought made him grit his teeth. He’d recorded a message for Penny and Percy — and Gayle, although she wasn’t related to him — yet he hadn’t dared say anything that might end up being used against him. He had written a message, which he’d placed in storage, but he had no idea what would happen to it. The post-return investigation would probably take the message and use it in evidence against him. And Rose.

He sighed. Rose was busy working the pilots though yet another simulation, instead of being with him. He missed her dreadfully, a dull ache in his heart that refused to settle, even though he knew they couldn’t be together until after they were discharged from the Navy. Or was he being silly, he kept asking himself in his darker moments. Rose was fifteen years younger than he, after all. Would they stay together in peacetime? Would she be happy being mother to his children? Percy wasn’t that much younger than Rose…

His console bleeped. “We’re reaching the edge of our range,” he said, keying the channel open. “Reverse course; sweep back towards the Old Lady.”

“Aye, sir,” Pixie said. She flipped her craft over — showing off a little — and drove back towards the carrier. “We have more than enough power left in the cells.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. Technically, she was right. Practically, it was asking for trouble.

“And what would you do,” he asked sweetly, “if you had to hold position outside the carrier with your power fast running dry?”

He went on before she could try to answer. “You need to keep a reserve at all times,” he added. “Expect the unexpected. Something will happen to fuck up all your planning and then you’ll be glad to have the reserve.”

She said nothing as they flew back towards the carrier, passing two more starfighters on patrol as they closed in on the giant ship. Kurt felt an odd sensation in his gut as they looped around and approached the landing deck; part of him was glad to be back onboard, part of him knew the blackmailers could have sent him another message. They hadn’t sent him anything else since he’d done the first set of work for them, but he had a feeling time was running out again. They’d made contact with the aliens, after all.

He dropped his craft neatly to the deck and watched, nervously, as Pixie came in to land. It was always hair-raising watching a new pilot try to land and it still worried him, even after making the pilots practice again and again in simulations. But Pixie managed a perfect landing and scrambled out of her starfighter, hastily running towards the washroom. Kurt smirked as he watched her run. Clearly, she had yet to realise the importance to limiting her liquid intake before boarding her starfighter.

Not that anyone wants to mess around with the bags, he thought, as he scrambled out of his own craft. Everyone remembers what happened to that idiot from the very first flight of starfighters.

“Commander,” a voice said, as he reached the hatch. He looked up to see Major Parnell. “If you will come with me…?”

Kurt scowled inwardly as they walked through a series of corridors and entered Marine Country. “Don’t you worry about us being seen together?”

Parnell shrugged. “The aliens being onboard has given us an excuse to run multiple searches for bugs,” he said. “We found quite a few, scattered randomly around the ship. Officially, we’re blaming them on the reporters who infested the ship during our first cruise.”

“Oh,” Kurt said. He had no doubt that reporters would use bugs if they thought they could get away with it, but there were such things as privacy laws. Not, he suspected, that reporters thought they applied to them. But using them on a military warship was asking to spend the rest of the cruise in the brig. “And has it worked?”

“The blackmailers haven’t contacted us to complain,” Parnell said, dryly. He mimicked an upper-class accent. “Dashed unsporting of them, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Kurt muttered.

They walked into the interrogation chamber and sat down. “We have monitored the access codes you sent them,” Parnell said. “There has been no attempt to use them for anything.”

Kurt let out a long breath. “Why not?”

“I have no idea,” Parnell said. “But they haven’t blown your cover, so I’d say they’re waiting for the best opportunity to use them. Which may be quite soon. My men are overstretched right now.”

“Or they might be playing the long game,” Kurt said.

“I doubt it,” Parnell said. He sighed. “Blackmail is a complicated tactic to use, Commander, and it can backfire easily. Normally, the blackmailers would work carefully to help you dig a deeper and deeper hole for yourself by supplying them with harmless pieces of information… until the point they were not so harmless. It makes it impossible for you to go to your superiors and confess because, even if they were sympathetic about the blackmail or considered it unimportant, your later betrayals would be much harder to avoid taking into account.”

“I’d be hopelessly compromised,” Kurt said, slowly.

“Precisely,” Parnell said. “Honey traps are far from uncommon in the espionage world. I was on deployment to the embassy in China once and you’d be astonished how many Chinese girls thought a Royal Marine was hotter than hell. None of them were really keen on us, of course; they just wanted to get into our communication terminals.”

“And did you keep them in your pants?” Kurt asked. “Or what?”

“We were warned not to fraternise,” Parnell said. “Which isn’t actually easy if you happen to be young, stupid and confident that no one will ever find out.”

He shrugged. “I never heard anything from any of those girls,” he added, “but a couple of more senior diplomats received copies of interesting pictures and a note saying they could spy for the Chinese or their wives would be sent other copies. I think one of them sent a note back thanking them for the pictures and asking for more.”

“Hah,” Kurt said.

“Point is, you have to lure someone into betrayal,” Parnell said. “But in this case they pushed you into an outright betrayal far too quickly. And that implies they have a real time problem on their hands. Whatever they want to do, Commander, they want to do it quickly.”

“I gave them the codes,” Kurt said. “What else do they want from me?”

“Good question,” Parnell said. “And once you find out, you need to inform me at once.”

“I will,” Kurt promised. He wanted to ask if he could talk to Rose, but he didn’t dare. “And thank you.”

Parnell met his eyes, evenly. “For what?”

“For being understanding…”

“I know, better than you, just how stupid people can be when faced with the threat of death,” Parnell said. “I also know that you left yourself vulnerable after the threat of death was removed — and you wouldn’t have come forward if you hadn’t been urged to confess. Your carelessness got you into this mess, Commander. If you weren’t vitally important, if we didn’t need as many pilots as we could muster, I would have urged the Admiral to send you back to Earth on Holmes. Your conduct has been disgraceful.”

“I know, sir,” Kurt said.

“You also cheated on your wife and risked your children’s futures,” Parnell continued. “I know a little about the vetting process, Commander. A family history of adultery would prevent them from taking up any post that required a full security clearance. If the media got hold of it, and they would, because they think you’re a hero, they’d have to tolerate questions being asked in inconvenient places. Their lives would be ruined.”

He took a long breath. “Frankly, my advice would be to do as you’re told until we get back to Earth, then take your discharge, change your name and go elsewhere,” he concluded. “If your kids — and Rose — want to go with you, you can take them — or let them go, if they don’t want to have anything to do with you. Your weakness will cost them dear in the future.”

Kurt clenched his fists, feeling anger spilling up within him. He wanted to throw a punch at the younger man with the older eyes, even though he knew it would be suicidal. And yet he knew Parnell was right. He had acted badly.

“Yes, sir,” he grated, finally.

“Good,” Parnell said. “And one other thing?”

Kurt leaned forward, curiously.

“Watch your back,” Parnell said. “They’ve used you, Commander. They may now seek to discard you.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “But would they discard me if they thought they might still have a use for me?”

“Probably not,” Parnell said. “But as we don’t know quite what they want, it’s hard to know just when you’d outlive your usefulness to them.”

“Still nothing from them,” Parnell concluded. “The blackmailers are biding their time.”

“I see,” Ted said. “And we still don’t know what they want.”

He looked down at the surveillance reports. The Russians — and the other foreigners on the ship — weren’t doing anything particularly suspicious. As far as the Marines could tell, the Russians were observing the negotiations and discussing the results amongst themselves in their cabins. But it was impossible to be sure. The Russians had swept their cabin for bugs the first day they arrived and repeated the process every few hours.

“They may have orders to act only if certain conditions are met,” Parnell said. “I’ve had missions like that in the past, sir. Once we slipped fifty miles into hostile country, only to withdraw five days later as silently as we came.”

“If that’s the case,” Ted said, “what conditions will activate their orders?”

Parnell shrugged. “Impossible to say, sir,” he said. “Unless we want to try to take them now…”

Ted cursed under his breath. If they had proof — clear proof — that it was the Russians, they could have rounded them all up and locked them in a sealed hold until the ship returned to Earth. But now, without clear proof, it would cause a major diplomatic incident at a time the human race could hardly afford it. The alliance against the aliens was fragile enough, after the Battle of Earth, without him adding to the tensions threatening to rip it apart. He doubted the Prime Minister would thank him for starting a second war.

“We can’t,” he said. He paused. “Can we arrange a… fake accident for our CAG? Something we can use as an excuse to put him in sickbay for a few weeks?”

“Of course we can, sir,” Parnell said. “But that would also deprive you of his services over the forthcoming weeks.”

“True,” Ted agreed. No matter how he looked at the situation, he saw no way to do anything, but wait for the enemy to make their move. And with aliens on his ship, another alien starship keeping them close company and a prince who might have been placed under alien control, there were just too many variables for him to keep juggling safely. “Bollocks!”

He looked up at the display. The alien starship was holding position on one edge of the flotilla, out of plasma weapons range — he hoped. If the aliens intended an elaborate trick… he shook his head. Unlike some human planners he could mention, the aliens didn’t seem intent on devising the most complicated plans possible, simply because they could. It would have been far easier to simply shadow Ark Royal until a fleet was massed to smash her into rubble. And they’d have the advantage of knowing just where the carrier was going and what it would encounter.

“Yes, sir,” Parnell said. “I felt safer on Target One, knowing the enemy were just lurking below the waves.”

Ted had to smile. “We’ll reach the destination the aliens have selected within nine days,” he said. The potential consequences nagged at his mind. If his calculations were correct, the War Faction would have time to prepare a warm welcome. And then there were the Russians… if it was the Russians. His head hurt just trying to keep track of the different factions, human and alien, involved in the war. “And then we will see.”

“Aye, sir,” Parnell said.

He paused. “With your permission,” he added, “I’d like to run a series of counter-boarding drills for the Marines. It would mean sealing off several decks, but…”

Ted’s eyes narrowed. “Why…?”

“We need the practice,” Parnell said. “The aliens who boarded the ship didn’t know where to go, I think; they had to make guesses about where to send their forces. And besides, we’re better soldiers than them, I think. They’re just not designed for fighting on dry land.”

Ted nodded. “I’d hate to fight them in the water, though,” he said. “Even Mermen wouldn’t be able to match them.”

“True,” Parnell agreed. “I’d not expect anyone, even an SBS operative, to be able to keep up with them in the water, certainly not without specialist equipment. The aliens could simply out-swim them.”

He paused. “Do you realise the aliens must know our biological requirements very well?”

“They had captives,” Ted said. “I assume they must have dissected dead bodies too…”

“As far as we can tell, they provided their captives with a proper atmosphere,” Parnell said. “They didn’t have any trace of anything, but a standard air mix in their bloodstream. And yet they managed to avoid the bends completely, sir. They couldn’t have been more than a few metres below the water.”

“They might have discovered the hard way how fragile we can be,” Ted said. Several alien captives had died in captivity, for reasons no human had been able to understand. Theories ranged from being lonely — which made more sense now — to simply lacking a trace element they needed to eat. But then, surely, all of the alien captives would have died. “Or maybe they were just careful.”

“Maybe,” Parnell said. “But both captives thought they might be much further below the water than they were.”

He shrugged. “A mystery we may solve when we talk properly,” he said. “Sir…”

Ted looked up, sharply.

“Get some sleep,” Parnell said, bluntly. “You look like shit.”

“Thank you,” Ted said. He had just too many pieces of paperwork to do. And then he had reports to read, review and sign. It never seemed to end. “But I don’t have time…”

“You need to be alert,” Parnell pointed out. He took a long breath. “Do what I was told to do on my first deployment as a Junior Lt.”

“And what was?”

Parnell smiled. “Leave the paperwork until we started home,” he said. “If you die on deployment, I was told, they won’t hire a medium to force you to finish it.”

“That wouldn’t be the strangest thing the government has invested in,” Ted said. “But I’ll do as you suggest.”

He waited until Parnell had left, then walked over to the sofa and lay down. There was no point in going back to his quarters, not now. Besides, his quarters just felt odd these days, even though he wasn’t sharing them with one of the ambassadors or another outsider. And he would be closer to the CIC.

Sleep didn’t come easy, despite his exhaustion. He was almost tempted to order a sedative, but knew he shouldn’t. He’d be asleep, dead to the world, if something happened. It wasn’t something he could do without clearing it with both Captain Fitzwilliam and his XO — and perhaps the ship’s doctor. Sighing, he eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

He was awakened, what felt like seconds later, by the howling of the GQ alarm.