Oblivion (Starfire Book 8) by Gannon Charles E. & White Steve

Author:Gannon, Charles E. & White, Steve [Gannon, Charles E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Baen Books
Published: 2018-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

The End of Days

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

From the moment Elaine De Mornay was piped aboard Zeven Provinciën , Ian Trevayne could tell that something was not right.

It was nothing he could put his finger on. It wasn’t a matter of merely being reserved and formal—there was nothing new in that, for she almost always carried herself as befitted a scion of an aristocratic house of the planet Lancelot. No, there was an uncharacteristic tenseness there, as though there was something she very much didn’t want to say, in fact dreaded saying, but was drearily certain that it couldn’t be put off forever. And, for no reason he could define, Trevayne was certain that whatever it was had nothing to do with the dire military situation in which they found themselves.

He decided not to press her on it, which would doubtless be counterproductive. Sooner or later, she would come out with it in her own good time. So he pretended not to notice, as he returned her salute, shook hands, and led her to his quarters. There he poured Scotch, which De Mornay, a very light drinker, accepted with what seemed more than usual appreciation.

“Here’s tae us,” he said, doing his best Scots dialect, as they raised their glasses. “Dam’ few like us, an’ they’re a’ deid.” She cracked a smile, but only briefly.

“Elaine,” he began, “we’ll shortly have a full staff meeting. But first I wanted to meet with you privately, for two reasons. For one thing, I wish to express my personal appreciation for the magnificent job you did here at Alpha Centauri getting the Mothball Fleet ready, and are doing now at Sol.”

“Thank you, Admiral. That means a great deal to me.” Her eyes slid away from his as she said it, and her voice was small, as though embarrassed to be receiving a compliment from him. No, he thought. Not so much embarrassed as wishing she had something better to give in return.

“The mention of Sol,” Trevayne went on promptly, to cover his puzzlement, “brings me to the second reason. I need a brief, informal evaluation of your progress there.”

“Of course, sir.” With something indistinguishable from relief, she turned businesslike. Almost too businesslike , he found himself thinking. “As per your instructions, the mothballed ships that were brought here to Alpha Centauri to be recommissioned and upgraded came from the various Heart Worlds with warp connections to this system, rather than from Sol. We’ve made good progress upgrading the ones there—a large number.”

“Good,” nodded Trevayne. “And the remounting of the weapons systems being ripped out of them?”

“Again, this is progressing satisfactorily. And the resulting weapon buoys and armed asteroids are being towed to the vicinity of Sol’s warp point as you ordered.”

“Good,” Trevayne repeated. He looked somber. “The fundamental fact that we have to live with is that Sol has only the one warp point. There’ll be no ‘bolt-holes’ for Sol’s Mothball Fleet to hide in and await opportunities. So we can’t plan on a war of maneuver.” He didn’t add the obvious: that there could be no retreat from Sol.

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