The War Machine: Crisis of Empire III by Roger MacBride Allen, David Drake Page B

consolidated their control over this star system—and since they’ve gobbled up all the communications outfits as well, no one on the outside knows about it. StarMetal is the only law here. As long as they didn’t lean too hard, didn’t abuse too many people, avoided raising such a big stink that the Navy decided to come by and take a look around, everything was fine for them.”
    “Except that now we are here,” Spencer said, “and StarMetal is not going to like it. Allegedly we’re just here for repairs, but I doubt if they’re going to buy that.”
    “Probably they will,” McCain said, “if only out of desperation. If they’re smart, they’ll bend over backwards to be helpful, hurry you on your way before you can hang around long enough to notice anything. That might be a forlorn hope, but I doubt they’ll risk taking on the Navy if they can avoid it.”
    “Excuse me, Captain,” Spencer’s AID said. “I am receiving a rather urgent call-request from Lieutenant Commander Chu. She seems quite concerned for your safety.”
    “Hell, I forgot.” The compartment was still surrounded by marines, and no doubt they were more than concerned by the situation. “Give me an audio link to her.”
    “Link open.”
    “Tarwa, this is Al. I’m all right. Our guest was concerned about pursuit, and likewise concerned about security leaks, but everything is fine. AID, give her visual off the room cameras for a minute so she can see I’m okay.”
    “Glad to see you, Captain,” Chu replied, her voice coming through the AID. “The marines were getting ready to burn the door down. Shall they stand down?”
    “Yes indeed. And Chu—it worked out this time, but we might not get lucky again. Issue a standing order that no personnel not billeted to this ship are to be allowed aboard, no matter what their credentials, without my direct approval. Which means you’d better get a list of the proposed civilian workers and start running checks on them. Pick your most paranoid second lieutenant and stick him with the job.”
    “Aye, Sir,” Chu replied, obviously glad she had been instructed to delegate the job.
    “Very good. Spencer off.” He turned back to McCain. “Where were we?”
    “I was saying that they’ll be scared of the Navy and try and get you to leave before you spot anything.”
    Spencer shook his head. “That idea doesn’t fit in. The whole situation doesn’t hang together. I could name a half-dozen star systems where one of the conglomerates owns the whole place, lock, stock and barrel, down to the last planetoid and meteor, down to where the conglom owns the clothes their employees wear, the toothbrushes they clean their teeth with. And it’s no secret. The Kona Tatsu knows all about it, the Navy and the Pact government know all about it—and nobody gives a damn. So why should StarMetal be working so hard to hide their buy-up?”
    McCain started pacing again, and clenched her hands together, weaving her fingers through each other in a tense, nervous, pattern. “Because that’s not what this is about. The buy-up and the communications interference are doing the same job you’re doing—providing diversionary cover for something else. The comm interference isn’t meant to hide the buy-up; but that’s what we’re meant to think its purpose is. The buy-up and the comm-jamming are meant to work together to hide some third situation.”
    She turned and looked straight at Spencer, the glassy-eyed stare of fear in her eyes. “Something so big it was worth buying a whole star system as an incidental expense of hiding it.”
    Spencer looked back at her, and felt his insides go to water. She was scared. And it took a lot to scare the Kona Tatsu. “What do you want me to do?” he asked quietly.
    “Get me to your comm equipment. Let me use it to reach Headquarters and warn them. After that, we sit tight and wait for Suss to report.”
    Spencer nodded and stood up. “Fine. I’ll take you to the comm