P3X2743...
"A bit undergunned along with the short legs." Alain observed.
"We're a smaller agency." Bianh told him, "Main focus is pirate suppression, deep space rescue. Don't need a battlewagon for that-but you do need a jump drive if you want to get to a burrow in trouble before the atmo's leaked out."
"that would involve a lot of pirate points." He said, "you must have a fairly impressive computer."
She smiled, "My nav officer is pretty good, Demiprecentor-as for the computer, it's a bog standard Nashan commercial rig..we've just...refined the math a bit."
"altered the basic KF equations?" he asked, surprised, "I know theorists that would love-"
"Can't share family secrets." Bianh told him, "For us, how we handle jump calcs are as close a secret as how you handle Hyperpulse Generators-knowledge only comes from membership. even in the Sol belt, there are too many governments trying to put a chain on our kind, and letting them catch up is...not something we're keen on....but I can share that Kearney's math has a few errors that careful study can correct...we've pulled event-point jumps through windows literally not much bigger than the hull itself-understanding gravitational interactions makes it possible-if you're sharp enough."
"I've heard rumours." He said after a moment, "Belters taking ships into jump from places that theory says it shouldn't be possible..."
"Theory can be wrong-that's why it's Theory, sir." Bianh told him. She didn't exactly track why she was so talkative, but part of her had a suspicion about the food...
"What about longer jumps?" he asked.
"Risky." she told him, "I don't know anyone who's still alive trying to DX a jump drive, it generally resolves into the sort of misjump you see in horror tridees, with partial field collapse, implosion, or 'lost in space'."
"DX?" he prodded genially, "I fear I don't track..."
"Means 'Distance eXtreme." she slurred a bit, "pushing a drive envelope past thirty lights-bad business, messy when they're found usually." she shuddered from an unbidden memory of spacers half-in and half-out of bulkheads, bodies warped beyond recognition, the ships often twisted like pretzels, "After the experiments by the Ludollin collective, the community agreed not to bankroll those kind of tests again. cost us two salvaged jumpers and foour hundred shareholding crew..."
"You're sure you can't give me more hints about how you navigate such small points?" he asked.
"Nnnot happening...wow, this..you drugged me good." She said, and giggled, "I should be pissed...yyou might try askin' me to spacewalk without a suit before I...talk...about that."
"Your resistance to narco-interrogation is admirable, Leutenant." He confessed, "In fact, the resistance your entire crew have shown is remarkable, even enhanced methods have proven to be...disappointing."
"I'll take that compliment." Bianh slurred, "Sho, virtual reality environment, drugs... prob'ly non-invasive neural probes...must be good quality, I can't really feel my body, but there's enough delay...to know this ain' real."
"Astute...Your awareness makes this a bit of a problem." He told her, "Your colleagues can be returned to their ship with an edited memory stack, but you...how are you resisting?"
Bianh smiled, "Psychofractural personality disorder." she said, "got five or six of me in here, all of us are kinda different-it's the reason the AFFC sent me home-well trained, but bonkers-batshit insane-apparently the experiment worked."
Her real hands reached up, and removed the VR helmet. "See me still? that's because we calved again. Let's negotiate-you'll have to move soon."
Godfrey's guards raised dart guns.
"Boys, the body's resistant to most of the usual toxins, and Lisa's in charge now, put the guns down before I make them into expensive suppositories."
Demiprecentor Godfrey managed to regain his composure at this development, "Who is...'lisa'?" he asked.
"Lisa Quhon, Loki serial number JNL323gHb57, Domestic enforcement, and you ****** blew my cover." she snapped, "You're after Belter secrets? so am I, but the goddam parent body personality won't let them out, and now that you've successfully removed eighteen layers of conditioning, designed by some of the sickest bastards in the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth, I won't ever get them. The best I can manage now, is to pretend I'm that self-righteous bitch, support your cover story, and maybe work out a viable extract that keeps my cover in place."
Godfrey waved the guards out of the room, and said, "Servalan."
her expression shifted again. "How ****** high in the order are you?" she growled, "that's it, is this my extraction? did my mission get cancelled? First, you show up out here, and now, and now you're deliberately undoing Blake knows how many hours of careful personality construction, reinforcing cover stories-"
"I'm aware of the programme, and I was given the phrase in the event something happened."
"So what the ****** happened?" she demanded.
"The priorities have changed, the Order needs you to be an active participant, soon."
"My target?" she asked.
"Duchess Elizabeth Ngo, and her offspring." he told her, "We are less concerned with the Clanners, but she is clever enough that, with her recent actions, she poses a threat to the long term objectives."
"Timing?" she asked.
"December, preferably prior to the Whitting Conference-that's your deadline." he explained, "It must look either accidental, or as the result of spousal abuse."
"Understood." 'Lisa' said, "This has to do with avoiding a diplomatic problem with the Star League council then-and you believe she may be a threat to that?"
Godfrey nodded, "yes."
"I can only do my best. Hail Blessed Blake...now, I have to be re-submerged under the prime personality, Did your handler give you the correct phrases?"
he spoke a passage from the Book of Toyama, and she went to sleep.
Attendants carefully arranged the setting to fit a plausible long evening that ends in sleeping off a drunk, and he, and the Blakist crew, left the hab-chamber.
as soon as the door closed...
Kurr Avon. whispered in Bianh's mind, and her eyes opened slowly, fully aware of what had just transpired, all of it.
so they want Her Grace to meet an untimely end? she mused.
tHiS iS nOt hiS OrdeRs. the lisa-self hissed.
Figured that out-he's improvising, he screwed up so he's covering his backside. Janice-self muttered.
WE KNOW. the others shouted.
the question is, do I follow the orders, and maintain our cover, or do I violate them? Bianh mused, we need to find out what makes Her Grace a viable, much less selectable, target for elimination-how could she possibly, in any fantasy, influence the Star League Council?
She waited roughly the amount of time it would take for the stuporifics to wear off, got up, rubbing her head, and stumbled to the door of the guest cabin. act hung over? not hard...but this goes straight to Admiral Li. Bianh decided. if necessary, we may have to die failing to maintain the ruse.
deAth iS acCePTabLe.
agreed, cover is all important.
Let's try not-to-die, okay? I kinda like the idea of maybe getting some time in the real world-even if it is just hitting a few bars and listening to music.
she grimmaced, "deal." she muttered. Her skull was noisier than it had been since Commodore Li's predecessor prepped her for this mission eleven years ago-as a mole in the AFFC's special operations branch, back then, to be a courier from belter communities coreward to the Rockjacks.
the hatch hissed open, and she stepped out, looking for all the world like a hungover spacer who'd slept it off as a guest.
a couple of Word of Blake Militia guards led her to the command center.
"You look...terrible, Leutnant vu Dao." Godfrey said from his console.
"Feels worse-what was in that wine?"
"Wine." he told her, "but I'm assured that terran vintages are often stronger than you outies are used to...your ship reports ready to jump in ten hours."
"Then I have work to do...do you want me to carry any messages?" she asked.
"Just a few greetings, and an assurance that we are just passing through this system." he said.
"I'll do that." Bianh told him.
LCGS Brightsville...
"Helm, release docking clamps and roll us to a safe distance." Bianh ordered.
"Yes, Captain."
she floated to her seat, and strapped in, "Ops, run a series Nine-Three systems check, I want to make sure we're 'clean' for the jump, a stable field."
"Aye Captain." Levine 277 ran the nine-three, a fluctuating current through the layers of the hull to depolarize the outer plating, it required computers to be powered down.
Once that was done, Bianh held up her palm, "Don't power up yet...Levine, pay attention to the jump-dreams this time, I've got a feeling, and I'll want your input about it."
"right...can we power up now?" Levine asked.
"yep...let's get through the pre-jump checklist by the letter folks...I've got a headache big as Boojum."
