CHAPTER ELEVEN
RHLNS Cai Shen
Uromachi System
Tè Lā Lián Méng
November 23, 2552
“Good morning, Sir,” Su Zhihao said as Than Qiang drifted through flag bridge hatch.
Some of the Rénzú Liánméng Hǎijūn’s flag officers would have expected their staffs to spring to attention when they graced the flag deck with their presence. Than preferred for them to get on with their jobs, unless there was “company” present that needed impressing.
And it didn’t hurt one bit when it came to building his people’s loyalty.
“Good morning,” he replied, sailing across to his command chair, then fastening the lap belt loosely. “How long to translation?”
“Thirteen minutes, Sir,” Lieutenant Commander Kong Tai replied from Astrogation.
“You hit it pretty closely, as usual,” Captain Su observed, settling beside Than’s chair.
“Because I never get tired of watching.” Than shook his head with a smile. “I know some people do, but I hope I never will.”
“It is pretty spectacular,” Su acknowledged.
The master display was configured to visual mode, looking ahead as Cai Shen approached the threshold of wormhole space. The blueshifted stars ahead of her—those visible around the blind spot created by her Fasset drive—blazed blue white and furious while, contracting into a smaller and smaller disc. It was like looking into an incandescent jewel box, waiting for the enormous ship, beckoning her into the vastness of interstellar space.
“And how is Zhùshǒu Fan settling in?” Than asked casually.
“Well, I think,” Su replied. “Lieutenant Zhang moved in with Lieutenant Pan to free a cabin for him. I’m afraid—” the chief of staff’s lips twitched “—that Zhùshǒu Fan expected rather more luxurious accommodations. Of course, he understood when I explained to him that as a ship of war, Cai Shen isn’t equipped with passenger suites.”
“I’m glad he was so understanding.” Than’s tone was admirably grave, but there was an undeniable twinkle in his eyes. Fan Qigang had proved just as insufferable as he’d feared.
Fan was obviously well aware of his status as Shen Hanying’s representative…and spy. The fact that he clearly shared Shen’s machine-politician contempt for the military only made him even more insufferable, and much as Than would have loved to slap him down, his position as Shen’s aide gave him a certain insulation. Su, on the other hand, could find all manner of reasons it was “regretfully” impossible to comply with his desires.
“I don’t think he was delighted, but I’m sure he’ll make the best of it, Sir. I hope so, anyway. It’s a long trip.”
It was, indeed, a long trip from Uromachi to Anyang, Than reflected. Two hundred and seventy-five light-years was over three months’ travel for the universe at large. Thankfully, that would be only a bit more than two weeks in Cai Shen’s pocket universe, although he was certain Fan’s presence would make it seem far longer. He’d already realized he’d have no choice but to invite the xīxuèguǐ to dine with him each evening. That would be fun.
“Oh, by the way, Sir, Commander Quan got that personnel matter cleared up, and Commander Yu asked me to tell you that she had a word with Captain Teng about that small matter you wanted her to discuss with him. She says that he doesn’t see any problem.”
“Really?” Than looked up at the chief of staff. “That’s good to hear,” he said.
“I thought so, too,” Su agreed, and Than turned back to the visual display.
Teng Huang was Fourth Admiral Deng’s logistics officer, the man who knew where every hull in Uromachi was at any given moment. And he also just happened to have been a midshipman under then Commander Than Qiang far too many years ago. They remained close, and while Than had hated to involve him, he’d known how hurt Teng would have been by the very notion of not involving him. Than expected that Deng would be more than willing to turn a blind eye to any favors Teng might do for his old CO. He was far less confident of that where Shen Hanying was concerned, but he hoped—devoutly prayed, actually—that his and Su’s security would hold.
Commander Quan Kun, his staff personnel officer, was central to that security. He was the one who’d manufactured civilian travel authorizations for two women, a teenaged boy, and a disabled veteran. And Commander Yu Yawen was his logistics officer, the one who’d asked Captain Teng to find berths for those civilians aboard any Navy transport that might happen to be headed in the right direction.
Despite everything, Than had been far less certain than he’d admitted even to his wife that Teng would be able to pull it off, but now he treasured his vast sense of relief. There were entirely too many ways his arrival in Anyang could end badly, but at least he had his family out of the line of fire.
Probably.
He shook his head, watching the display’s gems blaze still hotter before him, and reflected upon the perversity of a universe in which he had more faith in an enemy to whom he’d spoken exactly once than he did in his own duly constituted government.