The Phoenix Conspiracy (22 page)

"Are you sure you want to put your
bishop there?" asked Summers.

Calvin nodded, looking as arrogant as
he could, even though his eyes were jumping all over the board to
see if she could counter his idea. His ability to see ahead was
only about four moves. "Trust me I know what I'm doing," he
lied.

"Whatever you say," she took the
bishop like a mouse snatching cheese.

The next several moves were slow but
intense. Both players stared at the board for long periods of time
before dragging their fingers across the table-screen to move their
pieces. Calvin had no mercy as he unleashed a combination of attack
after attack, keeping the pressure on, routing Summers’ pieces, and
threatening her king. It felt good to say "Check, Check, Check,"
and watch her pieces dance accordingly. But, since he hadn't been
able to see more than a few moves into this position, he'd assumed
that, given all his attacking power, he'd be able to force a win.
This was not so. What had seemed like an endless ocean of checks
and attacks was just a pond, and it dried up quicker than he'd
expected .

Calvin knew his options had
evaporated. He kept the pressure on, as best he could, going for
more and more desperate jabs. Sacrificing pieces when he had to.
But as Summers held him at bay she was readying an attack of her
own which, Calvin knew, would not fail.

So he offered a draw, still trying to
look smug. "How ‘bout it?"

Her eyes laughed. "No chance,
egomaniac."

"Maybe I'll just sit here then and
think," he took out a book and pretended to read.

"Your clock's ticking."

If he moved, he'd lose the game soon
and if he didn't move he'd lose on time. But not for ten minutes.
He considered making her wait the whole time to see if she was
impatient enough to accept the draw but, ultimately, decided that
was bad sportsmanship and he resigned. "You're a very good player,
much better than I thought."

She smiled. "And you're... about what
I expected."

"Too bad chess isn't a real game
anyway," he said shrugging her off.

She chuckled. "You're right. Maybe you
should stick with bingo, it's more on your level."

"
Ha
ha
..." He turned off the table-screen and
leaned back in his chair. "Now poker,
that's
a game."

"You were doing fine until the end,"
she said. "Then you just blew it."

"See that's why chess isn't a real
game. It lets you be clever but not creative. In real life all the
best moves are unorthodox, unexpected, and unpredictable. There are
literally infinite 'moves' you could make at any time. But in chess
there's what... like twenty?"

"All the worst decisions are
unorthodox too. They defy common sense. That's what makes them
unorthodox, everyone knows they're stupid to do. Walking on your
hands instead of your legs is unorthodox, because it's slower,
harder, and stupider."

"But it
is
something you could do, if you
ever found a situation where it would be useful. It's just one more
strategy in your repertoire. For that rare moment when it
is
useful. No reason to
limit yourself because something seems stupid most of the time. May
as well keep it in your bag of options."

She cocked her head. "And when would
that ever be more useful than walking the regular way?"

Calvin was known for being quick on
his feet, but even he couldn't come up with anything. "What if
there were a walking-on-your-hands contest and the winner got a
million q?"

She folded her arms. "Are we done
here?"

Calvin knew he'd picked a bad example
of what a good "unorthodox move" would look like.

"OK," said Calvin, thinking back over
the last several days. "Take Raidan." She visibly shuddered at the
name. "No one expected him to surrender without a fight and plead
guilty, but it also made it harder for us to notice his escape
plan. The predictable thing was for him to resist arrest and resist
the sentence of the court, fight his battle there. Instead, he sped
things along so we wouldn't have time to unravel his
behind-the-scenes planning."

"And sometimes doing the unpredictable
thing ends up being stupid and you get the death penalty for it.
And for what? So he could blow up some alien transports out of
irrational hate? What a stupid, stupid waste!"

Her strong reaction only added to
Calvin’s suspicion that Raidan’s and Summers’ relationship had been
more than just professional.

"But was it really stupid?" Calvin sat
forward, anticipating her reaction.

"Are you taking Raidan's side now,
Lieutenant Commander?" Summers' eyes glowed.

"No," he said. "But sometimes someone
can do a bad thing in a smart way."

She gave him a strange
look.

"Raidan did commit an international
crime, which carries a serious burden of consequences. But what did
he do it for? Maybe, somehow, the benefits outweighed the costs.
I'm sure Raidan must think that's so. Otherwise he wouldn't have
done it."

"Sometimes people aren't as
rational as you think. Sometimes they act blindly, quickly, and
emotionally," she said. "Like a father beating his child, or a
gambler diving deeper into debt so he can
win it all back
, or an addict
returning to the same bottle of pills even though he knows he'll
hate himself for it afterwards."

That stung Calvin even though she
couldn’t possibly know about his equarius habit. And she was right.
Rationally he hated the pills and knew the costs outweighed the
benefits, but he came back to them all the same.

"And people end up making decisions
they regret later," Summers continued.

"Yeah," Calvin admitted quietly.
"Sometimes they do."

She folded her arms and nodded smugly,
like she’d won something. Calvin dismissed her.

Chapter 15

"Cap'n on the bridge," said Miles.
“What’s up, chief?”

"I've been reviewing the details of
the engagement when Raidan destroyed the Rotham freighters,” said
Calvin. “And I’ve found something interesting.”

“What is it?” asked Shen, though they
all looked curious.

“First let me ask you, if Raidan were
willing to give up everything, including his life, to destroy those
ships, what does that imply?”

“That he hates rotham and possibly
wanted to start a war,” said Summers.

Calvin shook his head. “No that’s too
simple and isn’t consistent with his past behaviors. Any other
ideas?”

“That the ships were carrying
important cargo that he needed destroyed,” said Sarah.

“Exactly.”

“But we know what they were carrying,”
said Shen, now reading the report. "The Ortahn had eighteen
thousand crates of alcohol. The Guinn had a cargo of predominantly
exotic spices, salts, and preservatives at approximately 80,000
kilograms. The Qiun'ha had a cache of nine hundred personal
computers and seven thousand type C power cells. And the Ursa,
which escaped, carried two million liters of purified water. Net
worth of the combined cargo losses is registered as just over 2.5
million q. A lot of money."

"But not a lot for four freighters
worth of cargo," said Summers.

“What if it’s a lie. What if the ships
carried something else, perhaps smuggling something illegal, we’d
never know.”

“That’s a bold indictment,” Summers
frowned.

“Is it?” asked Calvin. “Then maybe you
can explain why the Ursa ran back to Rotham space rather than
docking at a closer outpost for repairs? There were three Imperial
stations on the way to N-175 but it ignored all of them.
Why?”

“Obviously they didn’t trust us after
being assaulted by one of our attack cruisers,” said
Summers.

“Maybe,” admitted Calvin. “Or maybe
they were hiding something. Something Raidan found out about and
tried to stop.”

“If they had any
secret cargo
then how did
Raidan find out about it? And why would he destroy it—keeping his
motives secret—rather than report it? Why not try to board the
ships and seize the cargo?”

Calvin wasn’t sure.

Summers continued, “And what kind of
cargo could be such a threat? Something he’d throw his life away to
destroy? Probably not narcotics.”

“Slaves?” asked Sarah.

“Weapons, perhaps,” said
Calvin.

“It could be information,” suggested
Shen. “Either on harddrives or in the minds of some VIP
passengers.”

“In any case, this is all pointless
speculation,” said Summers. “And doesn’t further our goal—which is
to find Raidan.”

“It’s not pointless speculation, there
is more evidence for my theory,” said Calvin.

“Tell us what you found,” said
Miles.

“Anyone else wonder how an attack
cruiser like the Phoenix got as damaged as it did fighting nothing
but freighters?”

Silence.

“They had military-grade armaments and
shielding, heavy armor, and professional pilots,” he said, his crew
looked as surprised as they were curious.

“Really?” asked Sarah.

He looked at Summers. “You were there,
tell them. Those were not ordinary freighters you
engaged.”

Summers looked embarrassed. “I was
ordered elsewhere at the time and wasn’t on the bridge.”

“How could you know they were
upgraded, aside from seeing the damage they inflicted on the
Phoenix?” asked Shen.

“The report the Ursa crew submitted
after the engagement, the one that incriminated the Phoenix,
included some footage from the action. Details are sketchy but not
too hard to put together. Shen pull up ‘Beotan A-2’ on the display
and play the footage.”

He complied and five ships appeared on
the projector. Four freighters and a sleek-looking attack cruiser
which closed in and exchanged fire.

“Stop,” said Calvin. The image froze
in place and he walked closer to it, where he could point with his
hands. “See the position the ships are in?”

“Doesn’t strike me as unusual,” said
Shen.

“The ships haven’t broken formation.
Usually when civilian pilots are attacked they break off
individually and route in all directions. But there is no panic,
they’re trying to escape as a unit, discipline intact.”

“Maybe they’re just experienced,” said
Summers.

“Think so?” Calvin resumed the display
and paused it a few seconds later. “Now look.”

“I don’t see anything interesting,”
said Summers.

“I do,” said Sarah. “That’s a kilo-six
evasive pattern.”

“Right,” said Calvin. “A complex
evasive maneuver that the rotham used several times during the
Great War.”

“Maybe they learned how to do it on
their own,” said Summers.

“Sarah, in your opinion, could someone
learn how to do that on their own?” asked Calvin.

She shook her head. “That’s years of
military-training to learn something like that. A ship like that
shouldn’t even have the maneuverability to execute it.”

“Yet they did,” said Calvin. “They all
did. Which brings me to my next point, not just military pilots but
improved thrusters and engines. And, look at this,” he played
another segment which showed the Phoenix firing a barrage of
rockets at a ship, eventually destroying it. But what stood
out—after careful scrutiny—was that the projectiles were being
intercepted by a point deflector system. A countermeasure that was
so expensive to install most military starships didn’t even have
one, including the Nighthawk.

“Amazing,” said Miles. “No way some
corporation could have outfitted their cargo carriers with point
deflectors!”

“And that’s not all,” Calvin said,
resuming the clip once more. The Phoenix cut in close and opened up
a full broadside—its mounted m90’s eventually shredded the
freighter’s hull but not nearly as quickly as they should
have.

“That’s some solid armor plating,”
said Miles.

“Yes,” said Calvin. “Clearly someone
spent a lot of money upgrading these ships. Probably to protect
whatever they were carrying. Raidan was not the only one who
thought the cargo was important.”

"So why were the ships destroyed, if
someone went to all that trouble to protect them?" asked
Shen.

"Even with all those
defenses, these kinds of ships are still large with several hull
weaknesses and systems vulnerabilities,” said Calvin. “The Phoenix
is an attack cruiser—more than capable of destroying a convoy even
tougher than this one. But what
is
interesting," Calvin paused. "Is that the Ursa
still managed to escape. Based on its escape velocity and
trajectory, relative to the pursuing Phoenix, it never should have
made it out of the system with standard engines. But it
did
clear enough distance
to jump and made the calculation in practically no time. Achieving
a depth of eighty-eight percent potential within three minutes. Now
I
dare
you to find
any standard freighter that can do that.”