“Yes, sir,” Kurt said. The aliens hadn’t bothered to try to hold the Terra Nova system, but they still had a strong presence at New Russia. They might be planning another attack at any moment. He rose to his feet, then strode over to the hatch. “And thank you.”
He stepped through the hatch and made his way slowly back to Pilot Country. Several new pilots had been assigned to Ark Royal since their return from alien-controlled space, although they’d simply been slotted into pre-existing squadrons rather than used to build up entirely new formations. Adding two new squadrons… he’d been too distracted to pay much attention to the paperwork, but he had the very definite impression that most of them were new pilots, just recently graduated from the Academy.
Wonderful, he thought, as he reached his office. Just like Prince Henry.
“Kurt,” Rose said, as the hatch closed behind him. “What did the Captain say?”
“Get back to work, you slacker,” Kurt said. He smiled, despite feeling no sense of humour at all. “Or words to that effect.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed. She was far from stupid and knew when someone was trying to distract her. “And what did you say to him?”
“I told him I wanted to resign,” Kurt said. He felt another stab of guilt at the brief flicker of pain that crossed her face. “He told me I couldn’t — but that he’d help with the children.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose said. Her voice was curiously flat. “But at least the children will be safe.”
She looked… torn. Their affair, which had been born out of the certain knowledge neither of them would see Earth again, hadn’t faded away when they’d returned to their homeworld. She’d come to have feelings for him, Kurt knew, and he’d come to have feelings for her too. And yet, it was something they could never admit, not openly. Their affair was still in direct breach of regulations.
“I hope so,” Kurt muttered. The Captain was well-connected. But even the aristocracy had taken a beating when the tidal waves had washed over Britain. It was quite possible the Captain wouldn’t be able to do anything to help his children. “But we have work to do.”
Rose stood, walked behind him and pushed him down onto the deck. “First, you need to relax,” she said, firmly. Her hands started to massage his back, kneading out the aches and pains that had been tormenting him since he’d learned what had happened to his family. “And then you can get back to work.”
Chapter Seven
“I say, my boy,” Uncle Graham said. “You look like a drowned rat. And smell like one too.”
Captain James Montrose Fitzwilliam sighed as he stepped into the library. There was at least one over-bred idiot in every aristocratic family, the result of too much inbreeding or a complete lack of discipline when they were children. Uncle Graham had been an idiot when James had been born and he hadn’t really improved since. But then, he’d never been forced to actually work for a living.
“It happens to be raining out there,” James said, with as much patience as he could muster. It wasn’t much. Winchester Hall had escaped the tidal waves, but the never-ending rain had ruined the gardens and turned the grass into a muddy ocean. The refugee camp established on the fields outside the walls only made matters worse. “And I didn’t have an umbrella.”
“I know, laddie,” Uncle Graham said. “We haven’t been able to play cricket for weeks.”
James sighed, again. There were times when he understood just why the republicans wanted to get rid of the aristocracy. If people like himself genuinely earned their places — and he recalled how he’d tried to gain command of Ark Royal and shuddered — there were quite a few aristocrats who did nothing to make themselves worthy of the rights they claimed from the British State. Uncle Graham should have been sterilised as soon as it became clear that he wasn’t going to improve. Fortunately, no one had expressed interest in marrying him.
He strode past his uncle and into the next room. Uncle Winchester was seated at his desk, going through a large stack of paperwork. Beside him, his secretary took notes, her face illuminated oddly by the firelight. The flames burning in the fireplace, James decided, were almost hypnotic. It was enough to make him want to forget the disaster that had struck the country outside the walls.
“James,” Uncle Winchester said. He nodded to his secretary, who stood and walked out the door, closing it firmly behind her. “You’re late.”
“The roads were completely flooded,” James said, shortly. He’d been in combat. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by Uncle Winchester. “I had to divert quite some way before I got to the estate.”
“You should have taken a shuttle,” Uncle Winchester said. He looked James up and down, then nodded shortly. “Take a seat, please.”
James sat. “The shuttles were required for distributing emergency supplies,” he said, curtly. “I was damned if I was going to take one away from its duties just to get here on time.”
Uncle Winchester didn’t bother to argue. “I got your request,” he said. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Yes, Uncle,” James said, firmly.
He sighed. The CAG wasn’t the only officer or crewman with family in refugee camps. A quick check had revealed over three hundred registered dependents in various camps, along with several thousand deaths. He’d asked Uncle Winchester to take the Kurt Schneider’s family into his home, but also to ensure the remaining family members were protected. It was his duty as a commanding officer to take care of his men.
“It has been done,” Uncle Winchester said. “The young girls have been given rooms in the Hall; the young man has insisted on remaining with the volunteers. And everyone else has been placed on the priority list for transport elsewhere.”
James nodded. Thankfully, large parts of the country remained untouched by the tidal waves, allowing the government to start setting up proper holding facilities for the refugees. It would be a long time before they had anywhere decent to live — abandoned and second homes were already being tapped under the Disaster Relief Act — but they would be safe, at least.
“Thank you,” he said.
“This leads to another question,” Uncle Winchester said. “Do you want them to be added to the Emergency Evacuation List?”
“What Emergency Evacuation List?” James asked. “If this building comes under attack…?”
“No,” Uncle Winchester said. “The list of people we plan to take away from Earth if the war is not concluded soon.”
James stared at him. “Uncle…?”
“Formidable was just commissioned at the Britannic Yards,” Uncle Winchester said, slowly. “She was originally intended to be named Prince of Wales, but the Admiralty wanted a replacement for the carrier they lost at New Russia. Unfortunately, she isn’t any better armoured than her namesake. Putting her in the line of battle, here and now, will simply give the aliens more targets to engage. We have other plans for her.”
“Other plans,” James repeated, feeling a sinking sensation in his chest. “Do I want to know?”
“We also rushed two large colonist-carriers through their trials,” Uncle Winchester continued smoothly. “They were intended for the Boer Republic, but we seized them for ourselves. They’re both designed to set up a separate colony without the need for supplies from Earth… I believe the Boers intended to pull a Heinlein and just vanish from the rest of human space.”
James put two and two together. “And that’s what you intend to do too, isn’t it?”