Flight of the Blackbird (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 5) by Blaze Ward

Author:Blaze Ward [Ward, Blaze]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Knotted Road Press
Published: 2017-06-10T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XXXV

DATE OF THE REPUBLIC NOVEMBER 3, 398 KELLER MANSION, WERDER, ST. LEGIER

Jessica found Moirrey committing art on the long dining room table, far earlier in the morning than the evil engineering gnome was normally awake. At least there was no glitter.

Currently.

Jessica had even managed to sneak by both Marcelle and Willow this morning, or maybe they were finally beginning to trust the building’s security enough that they didn’t need to be in her hip pocket every waking moment.

Or the sun not being up had confused them.

Jessica had even managed to make her own coffee this morning.

“What are you up to, half-pint?” Jessica asked as she snuck up on Moirrey.

The tiny woman stopped her drawing long enough to pop her head up and gaze seriously in Jessica’s direction.

It was like looking at an owl.

“Seventeen to one, beam-line ratio?” Moirrey asked.

When she got this serious, this intent, her accent nearly disappeared. Today, she almost sounded like Oz, Command Engineering Centurion Vilis Ozolinsh, Moirrey’s boss, back on Auberon. Scion of one of the poshest families in the Republic.

Jessica moved around the table to look over the woman’s shoulder.

Moirrey was working with a graphite pencil on a roll of white paper a meter wide and several meters long. There was a remarkably accurate drawing of the Blackbird, taking shape under the woman’s hands. Jessica could see a variety of deck plans scattered around the table.

She wondered if Moirrey had slept since Saturday.

“I didn’t have access to the courier’s scanner logs, Moirrey,” Jessica replied. “But that feels about right. The lines look close, other than I would move the primary emitter arrays forward a frame or so, just from memory.”

“Wondered about that,” Moirrey replied. “This dinna feels right, but I knew I had achieved a rough semblance.”

“You planning to take all this home and design a new Battleship, half-pint?” Jessica teased.

“No, Fleet Centurion.”

Jessica was amazed at how serious the woman’s voice had suddenly turned.

“It will all be burned shortly,” Moirrey continued. “Anything else would leave us open to charges of espionage. However, the Bureau of Ships will need this for the next generation design I will be submitting on our return.”

Jessica pulled out a chair and settled, amazed at the transformation she was watching. This was not the goofy engineer with a glitter fetish that frequently infected Auberon’s engineering bays with her silliness.

Centurion Kermode, Moirrey zu Kermode, sounded more like an Advanced Research Weapons Technician, the job she was born for.

“Purpose?” Jessica probed, aware that the conversation had just gotten far more serious than a Monday morning coffee originally warranted.

“Fribourg is now engaged in a new Arms Race, Jessica,” Moirrey replied.

Jessica knew it was serious when Moirrey used her given name. She only did that when they were alone, and it was Very Serious Business.

“Previously, their only arms race was with Aquitaine, and we generally held an edge there, being more willing to explore new technologies while they were happy to rely on the brute-force capabilities of their ship-building infrastructure.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Moirrey, you amazingly-nerdy imposter? I don’t see any unicorns on this page.

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