“Don’t believe him,” the Nirai said. He started taking apart one of the towers. “He spent more time assassinating people than doing analyst work.”
“Sure didn’t feel like it,” Jedao said.
Cheris changed the subject before it could go anywhere dangerous. “The top scorers have a lot of topologically complicated operations,” she said. “You can theoretically force a puncture by convincing the operator to do something mathematically unwise.” She skimmed a few of the proposals. “It looks like it requires machine speed and precision, though, and I’m guessing composite wiring won’t work near the Fortress.”
“If you see a topological solution,” Jedao said, “tell me. I’d need an augment to carry out something like that, and I’m unable to have one installed.”
“So if not that, then what?”
“I have almost the same information that you do, which should tell you something. Invariant ice was classified to the highest levels even in my day. But see if you can call up the file on the Fortress signifier tests.”
A nexus fortress could have a signifier? Cheris made the query.
The system informed Cheris that the file didn’t exist.
“Oh, for love of fox and hound.” Jedao thought for a moment. “Ask if you can speak to someone.”
Cheris did and was stymied by the form that came up.
“Sign it with my name. That might send up some flags.”
“My career is going to be very short,” she said, but did as he said.
“You’re a suicide hawk,” Jedao said. “It comes with the territory.”
The Nirai had finished disassembling the original tower and was building a new one with the same cards.
Eight minutes later, they were wondering if anything had gone through when a response arrived. It said, simply: FILES NONEXISTENT.
“Is that what Kel Command’s seal looks like now?” Jedao said. “I thought it was the ashhawk-and-sword. Or is that a subdivision?”
“That’s Records,” the Nirai said, “same as always.” He was adjusting a pair of cards from the Gears suit in the tower. One of them was the Deuce of Gears, and Cheris felt a chilclass="underline" Jedao had taken it as his personal emblem, long ago.
“No matter,” Jedao said. “We do have a problem, though, which is that Kel Command is withholding information from us. That file exists unless they purged it, and they wouldn’t have done that.”
Cheris frowned. “They’re not being subtle.”
“They don’t need to be. We have no leverage. But it does tell us that they’re protecting something so important that its secrecy trumps the necessity of taking the Fortress back.”
This line of thinking made her nervous, but it was consistent with what she knew of Kel Command.
“Anyway, let me tell you what I know. If you look at the surviving recordings, there’s a fair amount of variation in the physical manifestation of the shields, mostly to do with color and pattern. This is due to the influence of the human operator.”
“Are you certain it couldn’t be some property of invariant ice?” Cheris asked.
“No,” the Nirai said. “My faction would know if it were.”
“He’s reliable on technical matters,” Jedao said, correctly interpreting Cheris’s hesitation. “This means we don’t have to break the shields, we have to break the operator. You look skeptical.”
“It would be foolish for me to request your aid if I’m not going to make use of your expertise,” Cheris said. “Can you be more specific as to how you’re going to do this?”
“I would prefer not to until we’re there. We don’t know how the Fortress was taken, even if it looks like it was toppled from within. We can choose our assault force, but we won’t know how much of it we can trust. The rot could be anywhere. Or ordinary spies. People can’t hear the things I tell you, but they’ll be able to read your reactions. To be blunt, Cheris, you’re not a trained liar.”
Cheris bit her lip. While it was true that she was sworn to serve Kel Command, Jedao was her immediate superior. The urge to take everything at his word, thanks to formation instinct, was almost overpowering. She reminded herself that she had to be willing to kill him.
“We’ll do it this way,” Cheris said, “but when I need this to be explained later, I’m going to get an explanation.”
She was making demands of a general. She might have known this whole assignment was going to make her un-Kel.
“More than fair,” Jedao said.
He agreed so readily that she was suspicious, but she was committed now.
“What are your recommendations for the swarm composition?”
“I’d ordinarily look at calendrical considerations,” Cheris said, nonplussed that he was asking her input despite her lack of experience, “but invariant weapons are going to be more useful and you can only adjust existing exotics so far.”
“Generally true. The Fortress isn’t a calendrical null, but we don’t know what the heretical regime will look like once we get there, or what other defenses they’ll have.”
“They already have the best one.”
“It would be convenient if they didn’t have any backup plans,” Jedao said drolly, “but we can’t count on that.”
Cheris stared at the numbers. After consulting the fourth display’s readouts, she put together a swarm. Under ordinary circumstances, the two cindermoths would have been enough to handle any threat by themselves, but she added thirteen bannermoths for fire support and seven boxmoths for infantry transport. “I assume you want to go in with infantry,” she said, “although I don’t see how you can burn out the heresy that way. Are we putting down armed resistance so the Vidona reeducators can come in after?”
“We can do better than that,” Jedao said. “When I said we weren’t going to defeat the defenses, we were going to defeat the defenses’ operators, I was being literal. This predates calendrical war. Breaking the enemy’s will has always been important.”
Yes, Cheris thought, but who is your enemy?
She knew better than to ask him, but her disquiet stayed with her through the rest of the planning session.
CHAPTER SIX
CHERIS WAS IN for a surprise when it came time to choose an infantry commander. She and Jedao agreed on Colonel Kel Ragath, who had returned to the Kel after a stint as a historian. Ragath’s service record with all its decorations looked exactly like that of Four from the bidding session. Since she couldn’t prove anything, she kept this knowledge to herself.
The order for the Shuos intelligence team and infiltrator company was trickier. Frustratingly, the system allowed her to describe the operation, then request a team and a company, and that was it. She could give no other parameters for personnel selection.
“That’s typical,” Jedao told her. “Our love of petty secrets, to say nothing of paperwork, hasn’t changed over the past few centuries. We’re going to have to trust that the hexarchs want us to win this. That ought to be incentive to assign us competent operatives.”
The next step was putting in the swarm order. Cheris felt ridiculous, since swarms only assembled for a general and she hadn’t been brevetted yet. To be fair, she would have felt ridiculous even with the brevet. The system flashed an acknowledgment of “unusual circumstances” and gave an assembly time of 5.9 days.
Cheris wondered what to do next, then was mortified to find herself yawning.
“You should sleep,” Jedao said. “You won’t be good to either of us without rest.”
“I’m worried news will come in the night,” she said. To say nothing of her reluctance to fall unconscious while he remained awake. “Don’t you usually have staff for things like this?” She would feel better knowing there were other Kel around, even if they were strangers.