Nor, Brim thought with a smile of pride, would the Leaguers ever tame the Emperor, either. By subjecting these people to such terror and havoc, Nergol Triannic had just made it very necessary to win the war he had started. For if eventually he lost, this raid had become the signature on death warrants for every city in the League—and those of its allies.
On the way back through the tunnel to Onrad's war cabinet room, the Emperor snapped his fingers. "Oh, yes, Wilf," he said as if he were simply passing the time of day, "that reminds me."
Brim wondered what "that" was, but amiably kept his silence, interested more in what the Emperor was reminded of.
"You remember that absolutely beautiful woman who serves as the Nabob's Principal Consort—Raddisma, or some such silly name?"
Did he remember...? "Aye, Your Majesty," he replied, at pains to act as though he were only mildly interested, "I remember her."
"Well," the Emperor continued, "of all things, it turns out that the old rascal's got her preggers—and she's just about at term. So I decided to move their government-in-exile here to Avalon."
He grimaced and shook his head. "I hope that doesn't turn out to be a mistake." Then he shrugged and looked at Brim, "It's too late to worry about any of that—they're due sometime tomorrow. I think you met what's her name—Raddisma—during your days in the IVG. Saved her life or something like that.
Anyway, I thought you might like to say hello when they arrive."
Brim felt his cheeks burn. "Er, I certainly would," he replied as they emerged once again into the Admiralty. "If I'm not flying," he added a little guiltily.
"Good," Onrad said. "I'll have Colonel Zapt leave you a message at FleetPort 30 when they arrive." He grinned. "You can then consider yourself summoned to an urgent staff meeting here at the palace by royal fiat. The meeting will be canceled by the time you arrive, but then—since you're already here—you'll be required to visit the Fluvannians. All right?"
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Brim replied.
At that, Onrad peered across the floor toward a small armada of very important-looking people bearing down at them. "Time to play Emperor again," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's how I earn my modest living." Then he winked. "But the job's a lot safer than slugging it out toe to toe with a lot of bloody Leaguers, which is what you're going back to, my Carescrian friend. So I think I'll make the most of it.
I'll be in touch." With that, he turned and strode off across the great marble floor.
On his way to the entrance, Brim thought about what the Emperor had called him—"my Carescrian friend." Only weeks ago, that would have rankled him. A lot. Now? Well... he had to admit that it didn't bother him a bit. Come to think of it, he rather liked the appellation. Emperors usually didn't have Carescrian friends. And this one did.
He smiled as he walked toward the transportation desk to find himself a ride to the FleetPort shuttle. Eve Cartier—and, in her own way, his old friend Nadia Tissaurd—had managed to have quite an effect on his life. He frowned. He'd never before let people tinker with his inner workings. Was it the Universe that was changing—or was it him?
Before he departed in the shuttle, Brim learned that the Leaguers had lost forty-one starships during their savage attacks on the city, compared with only twenty-eight lost by the defenders during that same time period. Good news, by all estimations—but it did rankle him that he had personally piloted one of those twenty-eight. He resolved there and then that he would make the Leaguers suffer greatly for that particular indignity.
Clearly encouraged by their own propaganda, the Leaguers launched a second day of massive raids against Avalon City shortly after dawn, causing considerable harm from the first shot onward.
Without an available Starfury to skipper, Brim could only watch helplessly, waiting for either replacement ships to arrive or another Starfury to be released from the maintenance hangar.
Neither occurred before the unscheduled arrival of a large Sodeskayan starship...
Brim had been working most of the afternoon to whittle down a great stack of documents Barbousse earlier shunted to his "signature" queue. It meant understanding—on an individual basis—such war-winning items as "Budget Considerations for the Overuse of Gortam Sealant" in which he was to personally report on how he would reduce FleetPort 30's consumption of the expensive Drive-chamber sealant by at least twenty percent. Another required him to ponder "Unprofessional Sexual Practices in the Imperial Fleet," then produce a long, complex report for a highly vocal group somewhere halfway across the galaxy. He had just opened still another document requiring a report on "Wardroom Hygiene in the Storage and Preparation of Logish Meem Types,'' when the door burst open in a cloud of Zempa pipe smoke and Ursis burst excitedly into his office.
"Wilfooshka," he exclaimed with a great smile on his face, "we can now trash Leaguer starships in even more efficient ways man previously employed."
Brim grinned and switched off his workstation—he'd get to those details when he wasn't so busy trying to win a war. "Sounds like a great pastime to me, Nik," he said, shoving the chair in the direction of his old friend. "How're we going to bring this little trick off?"
"With Gorn-Hoff crystals," the Sodeskayan said, straddling his chair seat and leaning his elbows on its wooden back. "Little starship you brought home from Effer'wyck was real treasure chest—for us.
No wonder Leaguers were so interested in its destruction."
"I take it the crystal on the instrument panel did have something to do with aiming disrupters," Brim said.
"You take it right, my furless friend," Ursis replied. "Crystals like that have everything to do with it, and are entirely responsible for their improved shooting. Bringing back that little ship may have been very important to whole outcome of war."
"Universe," Brim said. "And it sat around here for nearly a week while the Leaguers were looking for it everywhere."
"I know," Ursis said with an ironic grin. "But upon such small visitations from Lady Fortune sometimes turn the fates of whole empires."
"I'll settle for some help with this one battle," Brim said.
Ursis frowned. "May be not enough time for that," he said, "but we shall see."
Brim nodded. He understood. "So how do the damn things work?" he asked. "Do the Leaguers follow projected beams like I think they do?"
"You were right on the money with that guess," Ursis said. "Narrow KA'PPA beams, at that." He laughed. "Here we thought our BKAEW stations were only new applications of KA'PPA technology in Universe, but opposition had been hard at work, too—only on different tack."
"So how does it work?" Brim demanded.
Ursis smiled. "Simply," he said, "like most worthwhile scientific breakthroughs. As you guessed, crystals are heart of special KA'PPA receivers hooked into navigational and gunnery systems. Back in Effer'wyck, Leaguer controllers send three ultra-narrow KA'PPA beams that intersect on precise point at which disrupters preset to certain focus should fire at target. Nobody knows what kind of transmitters they use to project beams of such incredible accuracy, but they clearly work." He shook his head. "At any rate, a ship carrying the crystal need only intersect one of three beams, then follow it to the point where it intersects with other two. Then they fire disrupters—with deadly accuracy you have already seen."
"So that's it," Brijn said. "Well, you said it was simple."