Lacuna: The Sands of Karathi Page 5

  Captain Liao’s Quarters

  TFR Beijing

  Just before the briefing

  Grunting, Liao pulled up her uniform pants, sucking in her belly and pulling them up with both hands. Try as she might, the garment–size eight female, the same size she’d worn her entire career – would not slide past her slightly larger hips. She was now two months along, and her body was beginning to adjust itself to the small but growing life inside of her.

  Her breasts had swollen and become tender, but a simple bra replacement had solved that. She wasn’t sure if anyone had noticed, although hers were always small to begin with. Perhaps, in a way, the crew had subconsciously seen her body's changes as a return to what might be seen, in this day and age of skinny, mega-breasted superstars, as ‘normality.’

  But the pants were another matter, and there was no easy way to fix the problem. Eventually admitting defeat, she let them fall to her ankles and kicked them away. Liao put her hands over her belly, sighing. She closed her eyes, letting her fingers trace her no longer perfectly flat stomach, Doctor Saeed’s words echoing in her ears.

  You won’t be able to hide this forever…

  A surge of anger came to her then. Maybe she could continue to serve throughout her entire pregnancy, or maybe she couldn’t. That was not his decision to make; it would be one made on her terms, nobody else’s, and she would not let the mere fact that she was pregnant stand in the way of what she wanted to do.

  She was pregnant, not crippled.

  A press of her radio and a few words summoned the ship’s quartermaster to her room. Red-faced, she explained to him, with careful phrasing, that she’d been gaining a little weight lately–Doctor Saeed had insisted she eat more to recover from her injuries – and she had found the routine hard to break, so a size ten uniform would be a more appropriate fit. She was careful to make it clear that this would be temporary, and she knew that she was setting a bad example for the crew, but her injuries made it difficult to exercise.

  She was nonspecific as to exact nature of her 'temporary condition,' but thankfully, probably due to her rank, he did not ask.

  Liao wasn’t sure she convinced him, but it did not matter. Five pairs of size ten pants found their way into her cupboard, and five pairs of size eights were returned to the stores. The replacements were a much more comfortable fit, although as she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but feel the mask covering the truth was a cheap one and that if someone looked too closely, her disguise would not hold.

  It would stay strong for a little while, though. The future was the future, and what would come would come. Saeed was right. There was no sense worrying about it. Liao made a point of fetching the string of pearls from her desk. Staring at her reflection, she gingerly placed them around her neck, tucking the long string underneath her uniform and making sure it could not be seen.

  A gift from James, one that was against regulations. She could not wear the necklace openly–that would set a terrible example for the crew, and she hated being a hypocrite–but they were a special gift. Apart from the fetus growing inside her, the pearls were the only physical reminder that James was ever hers.

  Liao’s secrets were mounting and she, just like the slightly stretched pants she had convinced the quartermaster to return, was feeling increasingly unable to contain them. It was just like the press conference. Although this time, rather than simply being an international embarrassment, keeping those kinds of secrets might cost her the career she had spent so many years working towards.

  You’re going to have to take a leave at some point…

  Perhaps Saeed was right about other things, too.

  * * *

  Briefing Room

  TFR Beijing

  0900 hours

  Nobody was late. Even Jiang was there, albeit in a wheelchair, Lieutenant Dao pushing her around and doting on her. The room was packed to capacity, every head of every department and every senior officer present, even those whose attendance was strictly optional.

  It was heartening to see such enthusiasm after their trials, but this was also a sign that her ship needed to get moving. The crew was restless. They needed action.

  If she was being honest with herself, however, Liao would be perfectly happy if the mission was a quiet one.

  She recalled the argument she’d had with Fleet Command soon after they had learned that Sheng had been in communication with the Toralii. The top brass insisted that both remaining Pillars of the Earth stand ready in defense of Earth, just in case the Toralii Alliance launched another attack on their system. Liao postulated that if they stayed in their cradle forever, humanity would eventually lose. She had resorted to quoting Sun Tzu. “Invincibility lies in the defence; the possibility of victory in the attack.” Although Earth had locked down their system with gravity mines, missile and gun batteries, and scores of gunships and fighters, they couldn't lock the doors and windows and hide under the bed. They had to explore. To reach out. To seek advantages over the Toralii.

  Reluctantly, Fleet Command gave the Beijing the go-ahead to proceed. After all, Liao was a decorated war hero whom, along with Captain Knight and his crew, many considered to be humanity’s last defense against the alien menace.

  Liao took a breath and, without preamble, began the briefing. “I’m not really sure how to open this one, so I’m just going to come out and say it. We have come into possession of intelligence which indicates Commander Gaulung Sheng was, before he even came aboard this vessel, in contact with what we presume was a Toralii Alliance agent. We intend on acting on this intelligence.”

  A murmur, like the wave on a beach, ran through the assembled crowd. Liao studied their reactions. Some of the Marine Division had supported Sheng's mutiny, and although Cheung was the only Marine present and she had not supported it, Liao knew that sometimes feelings and emotions ran deep.

  “I say presume because his contact–whoever it was–did not indicate a great deal about themselves, only that they represented some faction of the Toralii.”

  Lieutenant Yu raised his hand. “If we don’t know what faction they represent, then what do we have to go on, Captain?”

  Liao tapped the key on her remote, changing the floor to ceiling presentation monitor from a generic welcome message to a series of numbers.

  “Jump coordinates. The contact gave Sheng jump coordinates.so that when he had his own ship, be that the Tehran or the Beijing, he could travel to this location. The contact, according to what we’ve been able to piece together from their communications, wanted very badly to meet with Sheng in person. He or she was prepared to give Sheng whatever consideration he wanted in exchange for that meeting.”

  From the back of the room came a voice speaking the Toralii language. It was Saara, the Toralii woman's growling voice echoing strangely throughout the crowded room. [“Since the message was written in one of your languages, I cannot be more specific regarding which Toralii faction the contact may have represented. All I can say is that approaching a jump-drive-possessing society secretly, as this mysterious contact did, is highly unusual. So unusual that I cannot think of a single instance where it has occurred in recent memory. Accordingly, we should be prepared for the possibility that this may be a trap. The Kel-Voran, for example, know enough of our language and culture to do something like this—to impersonate one of our kind—but it would be uncharacteristic of them to be so underhanded, as they favour direct confrontation. It is a mystery.”]

  A quick glance around the room revealed that Saara’s words had been understood. Most of the crew were still learning the Toralii language. Although it had proven to be an easy language to grasp, Liao and the engineering teams had kept every hand busy for so many weeks that finding time to study was difficult.

  Liao tapped the remote again, bringing up a breakdown of tasks for the remaining divisions. “Because primary systems are now operational and the vast majority of our repairs are complete, I want everything ready to move in
three days. Shore leave, if you or any of your subordinates have taken it or are planning to, is cancelled effective immediately. Sorry about that. Make sure anyone who’s been partying too hard is given a day to rest. We will need to be at our best because we could be jumping straight into a trap.”

  A gentle wave of nods around the room. Yanmei Cheung, the head of the Marine division, raised her hand to speak. Liao could see the rest of the crew, at least those behind the woman, staring at her hand – pitted and scarred, as though scores of maggots had been eating away at her flesh. It was the first time many had seen her wounds in public and. Ignoring the looks Cheung received, Liao nodded her way.

  “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  “Captain, we have a full complement of Marines onboard, but we were expecting a half-dozen extra to come in the latest resupply. They should be here before the three days are over, but there won’t be much time for inductions and introductions.”

  Liao nodded again. She knew that Marines tended to fit in to everchanging circumstances. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I'm not anticipating any issues, but if anything comes up do your best. I’ll leave them in your capable care.”

  Alex Aharoni leaned forward in his chair and raised his hand. “The strike fighter detachment is at full strength and ready to go, Captain. The new Mark II Wasps have been bought on board, along with four nuke-equipped Broadsword gunships to help deal with capital ships, plus one for search and rescue or other duties. Our Mark Is have been reassigned to the defense of the Mars Lagrange point.”

  Liao expected Summer to give some kind of smarmy quip about the replacement ships since the captain knew how closely some pilots bonded with their steeds, but a glance at the redheaded woman showed that she was barely paying attention. She wasn’t even looking at Alex, who wasn’t looking at her either. Liao could sense they were avoiding each other and wondered if that was going to be a problem.

  Was that what she and James would have eventually become?

  “Excellent work, Major Aharoni. Thank you. Keep me apprised of any developments,” Liao said.

  The other departments reported in. Navigation, under Lieutenant Dao, was at full capacity. Jiang had met her replacement and briefed him on the little nuances of the Beijing’s tactical capabilities. Summer was sullen and simply asked people to read her Chief Engineer's report if they wanted to know anything.

  When it was all said and done, Liao dismissed the senior staff, letting herself be the last to leave. As she stepped out the door, a familiar voice attached to an unfamiliar face greeted her.

  “Captain Liao. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  She tilted her head, looking into the face of a tall, blond Caucasian man with an Australian Navy uniform. She held out her hand. “Captain Knight. We meet in person at last. The pleasure’s all mine.”

  Captain Matthew Knight was the commanding officer of the TFR Sydney, and someone Liao had known by reputation and had spoken to over the ship’s communications systems many times, but had never actually met face-to-face.

  He took her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. You’re shorter than the media makes you out to be.”

  Liao gave a wry smile and shrugged. “Maybe it’s just that you Australians are too tall, which makes you a bigger target. So that’s useful to us, I suppose.”

  He laughed. “I’ll pass that bit of tactical information on to my crew. I’m sorry I didn’t drop by earlier, but I had thought it best to wait until you were on your feet again.”

  She flexed her arm to show it was working. “Believe me, it’s good to be up. The arm’s still a bit stiff, but I think it’ll mend. Just another scar in a series of scars, I guess.”

  He smiled, releasing her hand and nodding in agreement. “I’ve got my fair share of battle wounds. See this?” He held up the back of his left hand. A thin, jagged slice ran from his index finger down to his wrist.

  “From the battle?”

  “Cut my hand while I was surfing last year. Fell onto some rocks. Blood everywhere. Flopped around like a gutted fish until the lifesavers got me.”

  She laughed, reaching out and giving his shoulder a playful push. “Yeah, because that’s the same.”

  The two began walking to the mess hall. Knight smiled good-naturedly, but it slowly faded. “I’m sorry about Captain Grégoire. His absence must be hard on you.”

  She’d heard those words from so many lips that they were beginning to lose meaning. Still, she nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. “Thank you. I'm coping with it. I’m still hopeful that at some point we can launch a rescue mission, assuming we can find out where they’ve gone.”

  “So do I.”

  When he spoke, Liao detected a hint of hesitation and… kindness? As though he were trying to project an optimism that he didn’t really feel.

  She stopped, reaching out and grabbing his arm, halting them both in the middle of the corridor.

  “He’s not dead, okay?”

  “Of course not.”

  Liao gripped the man’s arm a little tighter. “I mean it. There wasn’t enough debris for—”

  “I know.”

  “And there was a flash, like a jump—”

  “I know.” Knight reached out, cupping her hand with his. “If James is out there, we’ll find him. In due time.”

  “He is out there. I know he is.”

  Knight gently pried her hand away from his, then faced her. He had an ‘all business’ look on his face. “Commander, he may be, or he may not. The same goes for his crew. Unfortunately…” He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. “I saw the news a few weeks ago. Bose really did a number on you. I’m confident in your command, but it’s clear you’re not impartial enough to deal with any rescue attempt made on the crew of the Tehran—if any such possibility exists. Accordingly, I’m going to strongly request that you leave any potential rescues to my crew. The Beijing will have missions aplenty. Saving James should not be on your agenda.”

  Her fists balled at her sides, then slowly relaxed. She had no logical counterpoint to his suggestion, but she couldn’t bring herself to accept it with words.

  Matthew’s voice softened. “Don’t force me to order you, Commander. This is an honourable way to handle this. A sane way, where nobody ends up with a dishonourable discharge. Or losing their ship because they couldn’t make a hard call. Or in a padded cell because they couldn’t accept the truth. Or dead because they took a foolish risk and failed.”

  Although on her ship she was addressed as ‘Captain,’ Liao was only a commander. Knight, a full captain, outranked her, and it was clear he was willing to pull rank to resolve the issue.

  Closing her eyes a moment, Liao forced her instincts to quieten. “It is honourable,” she accepted, blowing out her breath in a frustrated sigh, “and I agree it should be you. Wherever possible, I’ll make sure that the Sydney takes care of the rescue effort.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “When it happens.”

  “When it happens,” Knight echoed.

  * * *

  Operations

  TFR Beijing

  “Jump complete, Captain. Strike craft are launching and providing a defensive screen.”

  Liao put her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath. “Very good, Mister Dao. Tactical, report.”

  She glanced over to Jiang’s old console, where a fresh-faced Junior Lieutenant was scrutinizing his console with an intensity Liao found distracting. The man had big boots to fill–after the battle every single one of them were practically household names, even Jiang, whom he was replacing–but she would have rather he reported faster than he was so very obviously trying to.

  Liao valued results, not delays, and she hated dramatic pauses.

  “Scope is clean, Captain.”

  “Very good.”

  Kamal leaned closer to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “At least it wasn’t a trap, then. Not yet, anyway.”

  She nodded at him, then looked
at Lieutenant Dao. “Navigation, what’s out there? Where are we?”

  “Looks to be a solar system, Captain. We’ve jumped to the Lagrangian point between a large planet and one of its moons. We appear to be in a binary star system. That would explain these readings, because something's playing havoc with the gravity wells in this location. Jumping into this system must be tricky. These coordinates wouldn’t have lasted much longer before drift made them useless.”

  The nature of the coordinates were such that they did not represent a fixed point in space, but the ebb and flow of the gravitational forces around that point. Because of that, jump coordinates had to be recalculated every so often to account for natural drift and imprecision in the measurements.

  Liao did not like the sound of that. “How much longer? Are we under time pressure?”

  Was this the trap? Would the binary star system and its wild, distorted gravity make jumping out almost impossible? She shook her head. That didn’t make sense. The jump coordinates were given to Sheng many months ago. They were still active. Surely they would have some time.

  “Difficult to say, Captain, but certainly not for a couple of weeks at least. Probably longer. Up to a month, perhaps.”

  Relief came to her, and she smiled her thanks. “Excellent.” She stepped over to Dao’s console, leaning over his shoulder. “What can you tell me about that planet, Lieutenant?”

  “The spectroscope shows a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere. Extremely low levels of carbon dioxide and argon, indicating that there’s, well, uhh, probably no plant life there. Almost no water vapour, no industrial pollutants. Looks to be barren, Captain.”

  “What about the surface temperature?”

  “Based on the readings of the thermal cameras, I’d say it’s about forty degrees celsius down there. Hot as Hades, but survivable.”

  Liao nodded. “We’ll pack lots of water then. Dispatch one of the Wasps to take an atmospheric sample. Make sure they don’t enter the heliosphere too quickly–those things aren’t rated for hot reentry.”