DeLayne's call was fruitful, more quickly than Cortin had expected. As
soon as he identified himself, he was transferred to Ranger Medart.
Cortin studied him while DeLayne reported. She'd seen photos of the
Ranger before, but that had been before she had any expectation of
meeting him, or having her society's future depending on how she dealt
with him. But now everything about him was meaningful.
Except for some graying around his temples, he looked young--normal for
an Imperial officer, with the anti-aging treatments they got. But
there was something in his bearing that made it obvious he was no
innocent, even if she hadn't been acquainted, however vaguely, with his
handling of the Sandeman annexation. He was, she decided, the sort of
man she could respect--which meant she'd have to be careful not to let
that feeling hinder her judgement during the negotiations.
She frowned when Medart, informed she'd been named negotiator, asked if
she were available--long-distance negotiations didn't strike her as a
good idea--but when Delayne replied that she was, she had no choice but
to go to the ultrawave. "I am Colonel Cortin."
"Ranger James Medart," the man on the screen replied. "Pleased to meet
you, Colonel. I'm also pleased to hear you'll be the one I'll be
talking to. Do you have any objection to Captain DeLayne and his crew
acting as Special Liaison until I get there?"
"I would appreciate their assistance, though I am not sure what you
mean by Special Liaison."
"In this case, a demonstration of what Imperials are really like,"
Medart said. "Maybe by the time I get there, you'll have decided we
aren't the sort of monsters you've apparently been taught."
"That is possible," Cortin said. "I gather you do not intend to carry
out our discussions long-distance?"
"No." Medart grinned. "All our experience says long-distance
negotiations are much less productive than face-to-face ones,
especially something that looks like it might be tricky--such as
working with a culture I know nothing about. So I don't plan on
anything except this type of talk, and that only if you insist; I
prefer to get my data in person. If there's anything you think I can
do to help, of course, don't hesitate, but I won't be able to go beyond
advice. Unfortunately, even an IBC can't go over three lights per
hour, and I'm over five hundred hours away."
Roughly three weeks, Cortin calculated. "I should be able to manage
for that time; if not, I am the wrong person for this job. Until your
arrival, then."
"Agreed. Medart out."
Cortin looked around, spotted one of her team and a couple of the
Imperials watching TV, what looked like a news special. "Chuck!" she
called. "What's up?"
"Aaron Spence's analysis of the Imperials' arrival and His Majesty's
designation of you as the sole authority regarding them," the young man
called back. "He doesn't like the first, but he's in favor of the
latter, of course."
"Of course." Cortin chuckled. Spence was the only commentator who
supported her completely, so he was naturally Family Cortin's favorite.
But the fact that he'd gotten past the news to the analysis told her
what she needed to know: her authority in regard to the Imperials was
public knowledge. Odeon was done with the phone; she dialed the main
spaceport, told its commander the Imperial scoutship was being
transferred to Harmony Lodge, and asked him to connect her to its
Bridge.
When that was done, she turned the phone over to DeLayne and listened
as he gave the necessary orders for its move to her estate. She wasn't
sure that was the right move, but with the Brotherhood becoming
increasingly active, it seemed the safest one. Her team, the Imperial
Marines she knew better than to underestimate, and possibly-- "Mike,
did you get through to Brad?"
"Uh-huh. He'll be glad to lend us any local Strike Force troops not
otherwise occupied--though he warns you he may need to take 'em back if
the Brothers stage any more terror raids--and says to tell you he's
asking all the Strike Force priests to include you in their Mass
intentions until further notice. Which Dave and I, at least, will do
gladly."
Cortin grinned at him. "All of which I'm grateful for. I'll have to
thank him personally next time he comes over--did he give you any idea
how soon they'll start arriving?"
"About an hour," Odeon replied. "Shelters will be here about an hour
after that. I told Matthew to have the groundskeepers get things
ready."
"Good. That should be after the Columbus lands--or will she need more
time, Captain DeLayne?"
"Less, Colonel. She should be airborne by now, landing any minute.
Scouts sometimes have to lift off at almost no notice, so regulations
forbid a complete engine shutdown outside Imperial space."
"Sensible," Cortin agreed. "I seldom get to watch spacecraft land;
would it be safe to go out and watch yours?"
"I don't see why not, as long as we stay close to the house."
* * * * *
Even a small spacecraft was large--fitting hyperdrive in anything less
than a hundred meters long seemed to be impossible--and Cortin knew
this scout was one of the smallest of the Imperial ship classes. But
that didn't seem to help as she watched it descend into her side yard.
Nothing that big should be able to move under its own power!
But it did, settling slowly onto the grass, sinking until she wasn't
sure it would ever stop. Finally, though, it did, and she thought
ruefully that her head gardener was probably wishing her in Hell for
what she'd done to his beloved lawn. And this wouldn't be the worst of
it; the entire estate grounds would soon be a mess, with troops camped
and living on them. Well, so be it; she'd been consigned to Hell often
enough, especially by the Brothers and assorted other terrorists and
criminals.
When the ship's main hatch opened, DeLayne turned to her. "Normally I
wouldn't invite someone from outside the Empire aboard my ship, but
under the circumstances, you're welcome any time." He grinned at her.
"Someone who's called for Imperial help isn't going to sabotage us,
after all."
"Quite true, and I'd like to take advantage of your offer when time
permits, but His Majesty didn't say anything about my workload being
reduced. So until he does, or Ranger Medart arrives and I don't have
time for anything else, I think I should keep to my usual schedule."
"Or lack of it," Odeon put in.
"Or lack of it," Cortin agreed. "As active as the Brotherhood's been
of late, I don't get much time off; my only semi-free day is Sunday.
If you have no objection, I would like to visit then."
"As I said, you'll be welcome any time." DeLayne hesitated. "You've
mentioned this Brotherhood several times, in context that makes it
sound like it could be a threat to my crew. What is it?"
"The Brotherhood of Freedom," Cortin said. "They're a collection of
terrorists, the worst in our history. Their leader, Lawrence Shannon,
ordered them to disband before he disappeared about four months ago,
but except for a few low-ranking ones, that didn't happen. Yes, they
could be a threat to your people. I doubt they'd be stupid enough to
attack Harmony Lodge, though I prefer not to take chances--which is why
I wanted the extra Strike Force troopers. Outside the grounds is
likely to be a different story, though, so I'd strongly recommend any
of your people leaving the compound have at least one trooper with
them, and that they be armed. If they are attacked, I'd appreciate it
if they'd shoot to wound, rather than to kill; we can't get information
from the dead."
"We can do that easily enough," DeLayne said. "I'll order blasters set
on stun--with that request, I gather you don't have that option?"
"Bullets don't stun, no," Cortin said. "You intrigue me--could I try
one of those blasters?"
"I don't see why not," DeLayne replied. "The ship wouldn't let your
people into our armory, so we have plenty. Let me get my quartermaster
to bring you one."
"I'll be glad to do it, sir," Conley put in.
"Very well, Miss Conley. Have it logged as a permanent transfer, along
with a spare powerpack and charger."
"Yes, sir." Conley boarded the ship, emerging moments later with the
specified equipment, as well as a holster and pouch for the blaster and
spare powerpack. She handed them to Cortin, smiling. "I'll be glad to
show you how to use them, if you'd like."
"I would, if your Captain doesn't mind."
"No objection," DeLayne said. "In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to
appoint her as our individual Special Liaison from the Empire to the
Kingdom Systems until Ranger Medart arrives. She can stay at your
Lodge, but I think the rest of us should go back to living on the
Columbus."
"If you wish, Captain." Cortin smiled at the young woman. "But the
final decision will have to be yours, Miss Conley. I should warn you,
associating with an Inquisitor will do nothing to improve your social
standing in the Systems; we may be respected, but we certainly aren't
popular."
Conley laughed. "Since I won't be in the Systems long, I'm not
worried--I'd love to learn what I can about you and your people, and--"
she glanced at her Captain, hesitating.
"And a stint as Special Liaison would look good on your record, I would
imagine." Cortin chuckled. "We share that much, at least. Consider
yourself accredited, Miss Conley. And Family Cortin's guest, until
your superiors require you to return to your duties."
"I'd like that--thank you, Excellency. When would you like to learn
how to use your blaster?"
"As soon as I can. What facilities do you need?"
"A standard target range will do fine for the blaster function. If you
want the stun function demonstrated, you'll need a volunteer and some
good strong headache medications."