The papers said the name was Neuton Bedfort Smythe. To Isaac Meier he represented a greater threat than the Khalia. Smythe was the special investigator appointed by the Alliance Council to investigate the “Target Fiasco.” He was currently at the Admiral’s desk, the heels of his shoes scraping gouges in a redwood desktop (that had been imported from Earth at Admiral Meier’s personal expense) while he was randomly accessing the files and reading them.
“Just trying to get the feel of it,” the special investigator had explained. The grapevine (admirals listen to it as well; that’s why they are admirals) was saying that he was looking for atrocities. The Admiral had a private theory that waste was first on the special investigator’s list. Senators like waste; finding it makes the taxpayers happy. Happier yet as they were still smarting under the recent increase required to finance the expansion of the Fleet to a wartime establishment.
Even though all this interfered with his preparations for the final attack on the real Khalian home world, Admiral Meier had to admit the Council’s dissatisfaction was justified, if ironic.
Politicians always look for the quick fix, for the easy, and more importantly, cheap solution. Some of those fools on the Strategy Board had been only too willing to tell the Council what they wanted to hear.
The attack on Target had been billed as the final solution to the entire Khalian problem. Instead it had unquestionably demonstrated that problem to be ten times as serious as was previously thought. Now the Strategy Board looked like fools, and he had to deal with Smythe.
With a resigned sigh, the aged Admiral settled back and slaved his console to the one Smythe was using. Now he could be aware of what the investigator was viewing. Meier was relieved when the next file accessed was labeled Medical Corps. No chance of trouble there, not even a combat unit.