Iceni switched her frown to focus on the Alliance officer. “What does that mean?”
“They don’t see the rules for a CEO applying to you,” Bradamont explained. “They’re treating your personal life with respect, not because it is demanded of them but because they think you deserve it.”
“I will never understand workers,” Iceni muttered, lowering her gaze to the table. Yet the implied compliment, if Bradamont was right, did make her feel very good. She composed herself, raised her eyes, and pointed to the two women who were present and the images of Kontos and Mercia. “We’re here not to talk about my love life, but about how to handle the operation at Iwa. I am open to opinions as to how many warships to take to Iwa and how many to leave here to defend Midway, and as to who should remain at Midway in command of that defense force.”
“The basic problem with the command question,” Bradamont said, all business now, “is that your best two possibilities are both commanders of your two strongest assets. I would nominate Kapitan Mercia, but you will want the battleship Midway at Iwa, so if she stays behind to command the defense that would require passing command of Midway to someone else not long before an extended combat operation.”
“I could leave Kommodor Marphissa here and command the flotilla at Iwa,” Iceni prodded, wanting to see how they could respond.
Bradamont exchanged a single glance with Marphissa before replying. “Madam President, I have reviewed the operations that you have commanded. You have some skill. But Kommodor Marphissa is very much your superior at commanding warships in battle. I would strongly urge you to assign her in command of the forces at Iwa.”
“A very blunt reply, Captain,” Iceni said. “Also, I believe, a truthful one. I need to be at Iwa to provoke an attack by Imallye there, but I agree that the Kommodor should command our warships against Imallye. Kapitan Mercia, reply with your suggestions as to who might serve as commander of Midway if you remain here to oversee the defense of this star system.”
“What about the heavy cruiser captains?” Marphissa asked. “Would any of them be acceptable as commanders of the defense at Midway? If we are taking both Midway and Pele to Iwa, then any defensive force here will be built around one or more heavy cruisers.”
Kapitan Mercia’s virtual image finally sat down. None of the others paid attention to that, being used to the way that virtual conferences could involve significantly staggered response times.
“Manticore has Kapitan Diaz,” Bradamont said. “Gryphon has Kapitan Stein, and Kraken has Kapitan Seney. Kapitan-Leytenant Lerner on Basilisk is too junior, and Seney is the least experienced of the full Kapitans. Either Diaz or Stein might be able to handle it.”
“Might be. Why would we have to leave Kapitan Mercia here? We have you, Captain Bradamont. You have ridden Manticore,” Iceni pointed out. “You, Captain, are known to Manticore’s crew, and you know Kapitan Diaz. Would you ride Manticore again, and give him the benefit of your experience at flotilla command if he were assigned to defend this star system?”
Bradamont only paused for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Madam President. Such a task would be fully in keeping with my orders from Admiral Geary.”
Kapitan Mercia’s reply finally arrived. “I will have to consider a list of possible replacements for command of Midway, Madam President, but I am hesitant to recommend assigning a new commanding officer to my ship so soon before what will likely be a major engagement.”
“Not to worry, Kapitan Mercia,” Iceni said, waving away her words. “As you will see before you see this reply, we have resolved that matter. You will remain in command of Midway and Kapitan Kontos in command of Pele.
“How large a force do we leave with Kapitan Diaz?” Iceni continued. “At least two heavy cruisers, surely.”
“Manticore and Basilisk,” Marphissa suggested. “One or two light cruisers, and four Hunter-Killers.”
“Make it two light cruisers,” Bradamont said. “That way Diaz will be able to split his force into two equal formations if necessary to guard against more than one threat vector. And I would suggest Gryphon instead of Basilisk. If Diaz does decide to split his force, the commander of the other group will need to be as experienced as possible.”
Marphissa nodded. “Manticore and Gryphon, then. Light cruisers Osprey and Kite. Hunter-Killers Guide, Vanguard, Picket, and Watch. That is my proposal for a defensive force for Midway, Madam President.”
Iceni looked toward the images of Mercia and Kontos, knowing that only Mercia was close enough to respond in any reasonable time. After a few more minutes, Mercia nodded. “I concur with my Kommodor.”
“Presumably, Kapitan Kontos will have no objections,” Iceni said, drawing grins from Bradamont, Marphissa, and a little while later from Mercia. Kontos had a firmly established reputation as someone who would respond to any order with enthusiasm and a sincere belief in the wisdom of both Iceni and Marphissa. “That means our force at Iwa will consist of Midway, Pele, the heavy cruisers Kraken and Basilisk, light cruisers Falcon, Hawk, and Eagle, and Hunter-Killers Sentry, Sentinel, Scout, Defender, Guardian, Pathfinder, Protector, and Patrol.”
“We will take Imallye with that flotilla,” Marphissa predicted. “And the enigmas if they dare to show their faces.”
“Even if they show up, the enigmas won’t show their faces,” Bradamont pointed out.
“Madam President,” Marphissa asked after wincing at Bradamont’s joke, “have you made any determination regarding the heavy cruiser captured during the latest Syndicate attack?”
“Yes,” Iceni said. “I have already been informed that repairs sufficient to return that heavy cruiser to combat status are unlikely to be concluded in less than a month, so odds are it will not be available to add to our forces during this operation. In any event, I do not intend to fully repair the heavy cruiser.” She paused to let that sink in and watch surprise appear on both Marphissa and Bradamont. “The heavy cruiser will be offered to Taroa. They require a strong unit to protect the battle cruiser under construction there.”
Bradamont smiled. “That is an impressive gift, Madam President, one that will surely convince the Taroans and other star systems of the sincerity of your offers of alliance.”
Iceni shook a reproving finger at Bradamont. “We never use the word alliance to describe our association of star systems, Captain. It has bad connotations everywhere that was touched by the war, and in a century of war no star system was left untouched even if the losses were confined to young men and women sent to battle who never came home.”
Her smile gone, Bradamont nodded. “I understand, Madam President. My apologies.”
“You need not apologize, Captain,” Iceni said. “I am certain that no one in Alliance space ever calls themselves part of a Syndicate. We just need to be careful to avoid using terms that will prejudice those we want to view us with favor.”
“I understand,” Bradamont repeated. “I suppose if I were a politician I would have known how to say things, but if—” She stopped speaking.
Iceni gave her an exaggeratedly inquiring look. “But if?”
“I was unthinkingly repeating a common saying in the Alliance,” Bradamont said.
“I’d like to hear all of it.”
“Very well.” Bradamont finished the sentence she had earlier broken off. “If I were a politician I would have known how to say things, but if I were a politician you wouldn’t be able to believe what I said.”
“You were embarrassed to say that?” Marphissa asked.
“To the president, yes!”
Iceni smiled. “Any president who can’t handle people speaking frankly around her isn’t cut out for the job. I assure you that the vast majority of people who live under or have lived under the Syndicate would agree with that saying.”
“They wouldn’t admit to it out loud,” Marphissa said. “Not if the Syndicate is still in charge
where they are. But they all think it.”
“I’ll still watch my words,” Bradamont said with a relieved smile. “Out of respect.”
“Hmmph,” Iceni scoffed. “I’ll remind everyone that Granaile Imallye does not have any love or respect for me, and as a result is threatening this entire star system. Make the necessary arrangements for dividing the mobile forces and preparing them for these operations,” Iceni told Marphissa. “I want every warship going to Iwa to be at maximum combat capability. Captain Bradamont, I am again indebted to you for your assistance. You are authorized effective immediately to communicate directly with Kapitan Diaz and Kapitan Stein to discuss the defensive operations here. I will speak with General Drakon about his planned force so we will know how many of our troop transports to employ on this operation.”
Iceni saw the flicker of reaction in Bradamont’s eyes to her last statement, and knew why. Drakon would almost certainly assign Colonel Rogero to the task of taking the enigma base, meaning that Bradamont would be seeing her lover depart on another extremely risky mission. Iceni nodded silently to Bradamont in recognition of the burden that she and Rogero shared with Iceni and Drakon. Go they must, but some of those who went to Iwa would not come back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE suite where Iceni lived, once designated by Syndicate laws and regulations as the Star System CEO Operations And Accommodations Suite and now simply called the President’s Suite, was one of the most heavily alarmed and protected places on the planet. The bedroom where Iceni slept in that suite was the most alarmed and protected place on the planet, with the possible exception of the bedroom in Drakon’s headquarters where he normally slept.
However, for a canny Syndicate CEO, even that level of security was not sufficient. After all, any alarm installed could be broken into by enemies, or the Syndicate Internal Security Service snakes, and rendered useless. Redundant and overlapping layers of alarms merely made the process of doing that more challenging. As the old inside joke went, there was a name for CEOs who underestimated the resourcefulness of their rivals, or the snakes, or embittered workers, and that name was “dead.”
And since her former close assistant Togo had gone missing, and apparently rogue, Iceni had been uncomfortably aware of how many codes and secrets he had been privy to. Even if he had supposedly not known some of the access codes, he could have found out what they were from his position on Iceni’s staff.
So Iceni had acquired other alarms, rigged up independently of the installed systems, and set them up. They were among the highest tech alarms available on Midway.
She had also set up a few other alarms, using perhaps the oldest such systems in the book, reasoning that someone focused on defeating the sophisticated threats might overlook the simple ones. A metal tray leaned against one door, ready to fall with a clatter if the door opened a little. A breakable glass object, hard to acquire in these days of enduraglass and permaglass, teetered on a ledge above another door, certain to drop and smash if that door began to open. And scattered on the floor in front of every other possible access were small contact caps, toys that would explode with a loud snap under the slightest pressure, something which delighted children, drove parents to distraction, and might trip up anyone clever and skillful enough to penetrate every other alarm.
She had spent the last two nights at Drakon’s headquarters, enjoying the comfort of having someone so close without worrying about how that someone might use her or betray her. And with only about two weeks left before the expedition left for Iwa, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Drakon, knowing that there was a chance it might be all the time they would have. But he was elsewhere on the planet tonight, inspecting one of his brigades, so Iceni slept alone tonight. She had paused before scattering the contact caps, tired and not feeling like the effort, but had forced herself to do it as a small voice of experience or paranoia warned her that during her absence someone might have been able to test the defenses of her living area.
The pop of one of the contact caps in the darkest hour of the night jolted Iceni awake. She rolled out of her bed on the far side from the door, the wall at her back, one hand grasping the weapon she always kept handy and the other hand slapping the emergency alarm pad above her.
She hit the floor on her knees, the bed between her and the door to her bedroom, her pistol lined up on that door. The blare of the alarm covered up any more sounds from outside, but activating it had also summoned many guards, granted access for the guards into her suite, and alerted the entire building.
Iceni waited, tense, her pistol centered on the door. She breathed slowly and carefully, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. Who could have made it past every obstacle and into her living area? Even if Morgan was still alive she shouldn’t have had access to enough inside information to be able to pierce the layers of security around Iceni’s quarters. Only one other name came to mind, and if it was Togo out there, and he was determined to get in here, then Iceni knew that she would need not only great accuracy but also skill to take him out before Togo could get to her.
Yet even while focused on the need to ensure she hit Togo with her first shot and every shot, Iceni could not help wondering what his goal was, what his purpose was, and why someone who had been so loyal to her would now be threatening her.
The sound of the alarm ceased, telling Iceni that her guards had entered her suite and were now advancing toward her bedroom. She listened intently, her hand growing sweaty as she gripped her pistol tightly and kept it aimed at the door.
The clatter of the metal tray could be heard outside, followed by the crash of breaking glass. So much for those improvised alarms. Now people would talk about them, and she would have to come up with something else unknown to anyone but her.
The comm pad next to Iceni’s bed lit up, showing the senior watch supervisor at the star system command center that was located near Iceni’s headquarters. “Madam President, your guards have searched the outer living area and found nothing. They are poised outside of your inner living area and can see your door. There is no threat apparent on our sensors, but after you sounded the alarm a string of doors and accesses that should have immediately sealed instead remained open, and there were indications of movement near them.”
Iceni breathed out slowly, relaxing herself. “Full search. Nothing by remote, all eyes-on and hands-on. All rooms in this building, all doors and accesses. Find out how those open doors were hacked. I want to be absolutely certain that whoever got into my living area has not faked a retreat and is still hiding somewhere, waiting until things calm down to make another try.”
“I understand and will comply,” the supervisor said, saluting and beginning to issue the necessary orders.
Iceni slumped back against the wall of her bedroom, then realized that anyone who knew where she slept and that she would roll out of bed in this direction and have her back to that wall might be able to set a trap on the other side. She jerked herself away from the wall and moved in a crouch to another location in the bedroom, her weapon now aimed between the door and the area where she had previously been.
She settled herself comfortably, resting the pistol on one knee so it remained up and pointed in the right direction. The sort of search she had ordered would take considerable time. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
EVEN when warships could zip across thousands of kilometers of space in seconds, it took a while to cover planetary distances when hindered by atmosphere. By the time General Drakon arrived at midmorning, Iceni was behind her desk and sipping hot tea. “You are all right, Gwen?” he asked, knowing that she might have concealed an unpleasant truth for the sake of political stability.
“I’m fine.” She offered him a seat, trying to act more casual than she felt. “I am also tired, and achy, and more than a little annoyed.”
“Annoyed.” Drakon, reassuring in his presence and his str
ength, sat down and smiled slightly. “I’m a little more than annoyed.”
“Colonel Malin’s suspicions must be correct,” Iceni said. “Only Togo could have gone undetected as far as that intruder did last night.”
“We can’t be certain it was him,” Drakon said. “I understand that you’ve ordered Malin to review your security systems and make some changes.”
Iceni nodded, taking a slow drink to steady her jumpy nerves. “The access codes had already been changed, of course, but they’re going to be changed again. I suspect all redundant versions of my security software are infected by worms that my intruder activated. My software specialists swear that the activations will leave footprints that will allow them to find and neutralize those worms.”
Drakon snorted with derision. “If there was one undetected set of worms in that software, there could be more.”
She nodded, feeling a flash of the old anger. “I want to punish someone, Artur. Order some supervisors to be shot for failing in their duties. I know that would be stupid, that if I get rid of trained, experienced personnel before I even know who if anyone has actually made a mistake, that I will be just weakening my own security instead of strengthening it.” Her voice trembled slightly with fury. “But the part of me that is still stuck in the Syndicate really wants to kill someone right now.”
“I’ll help.”
For some reason that matter-of-fact offer helped cool her rage. “Thank you.” Iceni sighed and took another drink. “You haven’t asked, but I am screening everyone in my building again to ensure none of them have turned traitor on me.”
“If they had,” Drakon pointed out, “they would have already bolted.”
“I know. But I still have to check out the possibility.”
“Malin will find anyone who let you down,” he said.
She gave him a quizzical look. “Why aren’t you angrier about this? I don’t want you to be. I need a stable anchor right now. But why aren’t you stomping around threatening to kill whoever threatened me?”