With the loading bays and internal atmosphere operational, the shipskin had been laid down-a quarter-million tiles according to one of the binders now filling up the tiny office in her quarters-and punched down to the shipnet. Each tile was composed of a multi-phase composite which could deform-within limits, of course-upon command. Reflective or refractive surfaces could deploy within milliseconds, absorptive ones as well. They were tough, too. A diamond-bit saw could barely scuff their surface, much less cut the material.
But the Chu-sa knew there were gangs of yard specialists running hundreds of tests against the skin, looking for defective linkages, bad command interfaces, or skunky tiles which had-for unknown reasons-lost their ability to deform with acceptable speed. Her boots trampling on the quiescent surface would trigger alarms and lead to unnecessary work.
We have enough to do, she thought pensively. Naniwa was still at least thirteen days from being spaceworthy.
The marine walking point in front of her raised a warning hand. They had entered a region of the shipskin where long radiating fins ran out from the hull, making a queer sort of forest-all black limbs and leaf-like extrusions frilled with thousands of tiny heat-exchanging surfaces.
“Priest dead ahead, kyo,” Socho Juarez muttered across the local comm. Susan could tell the sergeant major was unhappy, but who wanted their commander skylarking around outside the ship’s armor-even here, deep in Anahuac space-when they could be safely parked in Command, out of harm’s way? “ Chu-sa, do you want some privacy?”
Susan shook her head.
You’re sure? he signed. There are Mice everywhere.
Kosho almost laughed aloud. The Mice are always watching, she replied with a deft movement of her gloved fingers. “Feel free to listen in. But if you are worried-I will be polite.”
The officers complement on the Naniwa -including junior officers-stood at almost a hundred men and women. After her discussion with the Mayan hafuri, their attitude towards her had cooled noticeably. When she’d first come aboard, most of the five-hundred-plus crew were already hard at work, so Susan had found herself out of synch with her subordinates. There had been so much to do, however, they had started to gel into something like the team she expected.
But nothing like we had on the Cornuelle. Kosho knew that had been rare-Fleet crews usually had a high rate of turnover as specialists rotated out and the officers were promoted. A ship’s complement which remained substantially intact for three years-particularly under combat conditions-was almost unheard of save in the Clan-supplied squadrons. She missed the comfort long familiarity provided.
Proper respect for the Chu-sa was absolutely necessary for the proper functioning of the ship, but there was an uneasy tension Susan could not ignore, particularly when the fitting officer was not in her chain of command. The Fleet was dependent on the Zosen -Construction and Supply Service-but did not control the logistics arm of the Imperial military. Like the Army, they were held separate from one another by the Emperor’s decree. Each Kaigun Kyo reported directly to the Military Council. Her rudeness, therefore, had exacerbated a natural division between Zosen and Fleet.
Again, grandmother would have illuminated this error with a boken or perhaps a kettle.
The marine signed an all-clear and Kosho stepped past him, around one of the towering fins, and onto an open area among the heat radiators much like a meadow in a forest of black battle-steel. Oc Chac was waiting, hands clasped behind his engineer’s construction suit, helmet turned towards the vast eye of Jupiter burning down upon them. His mirrored faceplate glowed amber and red, as though filled with fire.
“Chac- tzin.” Susan waved off the marine, who faded back into the “forest,” his combat armor dappling to match shadow to shadow. Most Fleet officers seeking a private conversation-particularly of ship-command rank-would have ordered the sergeant-major to stay aboard ship and out of their hair, but Kosho had spent far too long beyond the Frontier to go anywhere without proper security precautions. Indeed, she hadn’t even thought of not having Juarez accompany her. “I understand we’ve finished final inspections on all systems save the shipskin and the main drive coil?”
Chac nodded, but said nothing. In response, she gave him an abbreviated bow and turned to look upon the face of Jove as well.
“I would like to apologize for my behavior the other morning. It was rude.”
The Mayan shifted a little, and Kosho could feel his attention focus upon her.
“I understand,” she continued, “that you have been most diligent in your efforts to see construction completed and all systems readied for our trials. Engineering, in fact, sings your praises and promises to spill a thousand cups of octli beer in your honor. Which, from my experience with engineers, is heady tribute indeed.”
There was a short, abrupt snorting sound. He laughs. Well, now I have him.
“These same engineers pressed me, in a most unseemly way, to let you finish your work. I must admit, as I’ve never served on a new ship before, that I do not fully understand your role.”
“Truth, kyo,” the Mayan barked, almost against his will. “Your service jacket bears such a statement out…” Now he was facing her, and Susan could make out his eyes as shadows within shadows. “The Cornuelle was far past her time.”
He paused. Kosho could hear him click his teeth together. Thinking, is he?
“This Chu-sa Hadeishi of yours was competent-this I have heard from Painal the Runner, and having read the Book, would believe. But he was reckless! Ah, by the Gods, Chu – sa, he was a madman!”
For a moment Susan struggled, trying to frame a proper response. How can he say this! Mitsuharu was spinning gold from straw for six months! How… Her shoulders sagged for an instant, before she straightened up again. How could he have risked all our lives? He did. He dared Hachiman over and over again… even at Jagan he was still maneuvering for a way to stay out on patrol. Even at the end, when he and the ship and the crew were past exhaustion…
“He was.” The words were harsh, brittle, metallic in her mouth. But true. “And so he paid, in the end, in blood-as we all pay.”
“Huh!” Chac wrinkled up his prominent nose and clicked his teeth sharply. “Do you see why the crew fear you, Chu-sa? Why they are on edge? Why my work here is crucial for your success at trials?”
“So all say.” Kosho spread her hands, accepting fate. “And are we ready? Could I take Naniwa into transit tomorrow? Could I take her into battle in a month?”
“Battle, kyo? In a month!” The Mayan laughed out loud. “Oh, Chu-sa, you know she is not ready, the crew is not ready! Six or seven months of working up, running the engines through a full maintenance cycle… then you can go hunting! A month.” He chuckled.
Susan removed a folded orders packet from the document pouch on her suit gunrig. She held it up, letting the light of Jupiter gleam ruddy red and gold from the Fleet seal.
“We have received deployment orders,” she said quietly. “To join a battle-group forming up off Europa right now. Chu-sho Xocoyotl is already aboard the Tokiwa, and the other ships are arriving in short order. Naniwa is expected to join them within five days, fully supplied and ready for action.”
“Hsst! Impossible!”
“Tell that to the admiral. Will your work be done in time? Will everyone cease giving me such foreboding looks and turn their minds to proper work?”
The Mayan’s chiseled old face twisted into a grimace. “ Chu-sa, you don’t believe they have cause to fear? Even with all that has happened to you, even with the engineer’s mighty tribute?” For an instant, it seemed as if he would spit in disgust, but then held back. “You called me the superstitions officer, as though such a thing had no weight in this world!”