Might Makes Right (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 18) Read online

  "Have we heard enough?” Lance asked the others. “I know these two can continue like this for a while.”

  “I’m good,” Admiral Thomas admitted. “I think they will have a satisfactory solution…sometime.”

  Kevin put up a hand to pause Stephanie and turned to the three. “Give us three days.”

  “Two,” Stephanie added after him. “He’s padding our effort here. We will have the core worked out by tonight.”

  “The morning,” Kevin corrected. “She won’t be sure about her answers until she has slept and confirmed she agrees in the morning.”

  Stephanie paused a moment before nodding. “Yeah, he’s right. Assuming I’m good in the morning, we’ll do the calculations and have our temporary solution to you before noon.”

  Bethany Anne nodded. “How long until we are functional?”

  Kevin and Stephanie looked at each other. “Twenty-four months?” he asked, and she nodded her agreement.

  “Good.” Bethany Anne smiled. “You have eighteen.” Reaching out, she grabbed the two men and they disappeared.

  A moment later Stephanie broke the silence. “We didn’t need twenty-four months.” She eyed her husband. “Why did you tell her that?”

  “Because,” Kevin replied, “I know Bethany Anne. We really need what, about twenty months?”

  She nodded.

  “If we had told her twenty, she would’ve given us fifteen,” he finished.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Planet Yoll, Second Outer Orbit, New Yollin Navy Spaceyard G’enysis

  Admiral Thomas nodded to the Yollin mate who opened the door for him. The Admiral and his Guardian detachment exited the shuttle, stepping into the receiving bay for the new Navy Spaceyard.

  Waiting for him was Minister of Defense E’kolorn, with his guards as well.

  Admiral Thomas walked over and took E’kolorn’s outstretched hand. “Good to see you again, E’kolorn.”

  “Likewise, Thomas,” he answered. The two turned from the large shuttle bay towards the exit and headed to the operations deck of the massive complex. Since the Straiphus Rebellion, Bethany Anne had placed a premium on building a new shipyard for the Etheric Empire. First task was to repair ships damaged in the conflict, then start construction on the latest designs.

  “G’enysis tells me,” E’kolorn continued the conversation once they had stepped out of the shuttle bay, “that we have new ship designs in the works that will allow me to share capabilities with the ones you have out here?”

  “Sort of,” Thomas admitted. “Perhaps the better way to say it is, we need to come to an agreement on how we should share the budget.” The two of them, guards walking in front and behind, turned a corner. They left a four-person-wide hallway to enter one that was only wide enough for two.

  “The new Defender series of Destroyers is going to be capable of either fighting inside the atmosphere, or taking the battle to space.”

  E’kolorn caught on and completed the thought. “Or be in space and take the fight into the atmosphere.”

  “Yes,” Thomas admitted.

  “Similar to the ArchAngel I and the G’laxix Sphaea-class ships.”

  “Right,” Thomas agreed, “except we are going to have bigger weapons on these ships, and they are each going to carry up to one hundred marines.”

  The two men walked another hundred paces while E’kolorn thought about the ramifications of having this type of resource in his arsenal. The group slowed and came to a stop when they had to pass through security before entering the operations area.

  Another two hundred steps beyond security, they were stopped again before being allowed into the operations room, where they left all but one of their guards outside.

  As the three stepped through the doors, the remaining guard stepped to the side and took a position against the walls.

  “G’enysis,” Thomas addressed the EI running the station.

  In the middle of the large circular room was a table. The room itself had seven circular rows of workstations with desks and screens inlaid into the surfaces for the staff. The center table had a holographic representation of the huge shipyard and tiny little dots scooting around.

  E’kolorn stepped to the circular table, noting that he could see Yollins in space suits scampering around a superdreadnought that had to have been brought over from the original shipyard, considering how complete it was.

  “Nice detail,” E’kolorn murmured as he watched the display.

  “Thank you,” G’enysis replied. “I like to keep it up-to-date as the ships are completed for the crew working in here.”

  Thomas looked at the eighteen docks that seemed to have activity. “Are we on track for all of them at the moment, G’enysis?”

  “Yes sir, we are. Should production proceed as planned, we will probably be deploying most of the ships two percent earlier than currently scheduled.”

  “How does that timeframe compare to what the Empress wishes?” E’kolorn asked. He heard the Admiral snort beside him.

  “We will be five percent late compared to the Empress’ wishes,” the EI answered.

  “What is causing us to miss the Empress’ dates?” E’kolorn looked at the screens embedded in the table and started flipping through them to view the tasks which seemed to have the most flags.

  “Mining and materials,” Thomas answered at the same time as G’enysis. “We are working with that group ourselves, but until we figure out the best way to bring the materials from the outer asteroids here at the right time,” Thomas shrugged, “I’m not sure what we can do about it.”

  E’kolorn looked back at the enormous hologram. “G’enysis, would you please show me the system?"

  The shipyards shrunk as the Yollin planet, the orbiting space stations, and the Meredith Reynolds all came into view as the EI started showing the path to the asteroids. “The problem we have had,” E’kolorn pointed to the small dot representing the mining facilities, “is that we already mined the areas close to us a generation or two back.”

  “That is why you use the Eubos system.” Thomas pursed his lips. “You find the Gate system easier?”

  “Well,” E’kolorn tapped his mandibles together in thought, “it was until we required this much material at one time. Now we are searching for the right method to procure materials on schedule.”

  “Time to get the two bricks out, as Dan would say.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m afraid we are going to be receiving a lot of pain and still not figuring out anything.”

  “Sirs,” G’enysis interrupted, “if we could use the time in transit for production, we could meet the Empress’ optimistic request.”

  “Optimistic is a euphemism for?” Thomas asked, not considering he was speaking to the EI.

  “Impossible,” E’kolorn inserted.

  “Challenging,” G’enysis answered. “I have been in contact with Jeovanni Deteusche in mining, and he is working on the problem.

  “Jeo?” Thomas narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell didn’t I think to ask him?”

  “Shall I call him?”

  “Yes, please, G’enysis,” Thomas confirmed.

  It took a moment before Jeo popped into view in the hologram. He started looking around, and the human and Yollin both realized he was figuring out where he was.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, and seemed to take a step back, his head shifting to the edge of the hologram. Then he turned so that he was looking at the hologram himself.

  E’kolorn considered it eerie to have a human’s head with its little neck just floating in the air.

  Aliens, he thought.

  “I see. This is our project management problem, right, G’enysis?” Jeo asked.

  “It is, Mining and Materials Senior Engineer,” the EI answered, conferencing everyone into the conversation between the two of them.

  Jeo’s head turned toward the Admiral and the Defense Minister and winked. “So, our Empress is up to her standard operating procedure of figuring
out how long something should take and then taking away your slack?”

  The two nodded their heads. “Yes.”

  “Ok.” He blew out a long breath. “We fixed this before by manufacturing some of the materials on Earth instead of in space.”

  E’kolorn spoke up. “We have already tasked all the manufacturing resources we can down on the planet. I don’t believe we can build any of the bigger pieces there. It would take too much time to pull them up through the gravity well, with too much risk of twisting them, or worse, of the whole ship being destroyed."

  Thomas started nodding. “Are you thinking of the effort required to lift the three ocean liners?”

  “Something like that, sir,” Jeo admitted. “But also I’m thinking about the space stations.”

  This time E’kolorn started nodding and Admiral Thomas looked confused.

  “You are thinking about building additional manufacturing facilities near the space stations and then hiring the workers already on board?”

  “Yes,” Jeo admitted. “Do you think the people on the stations might go for that?”

  “If they don’t, or we need more, we can move them down to the planet.” E’kolorn’s voice seemed to get hard. “I’m not going to allow someone who won’t work where we need them to dictate to us where they live.”

  E’kolorn looked at Thomas. “Would the Empress have a problem with that?”

  Thomas snorted. “If anyone on the space stations gives her any lip, she will open the hatch to space, point outside, and tell them to walk back to the planet or choose the ship that is leaving.” He smiled. “Those would be their only two options.”

  E’kolorn nodded sharply. “Good.”

  Thomas kept a straight face when he heard E’kolorn mumble under his breath, “That is the kind of leadership I was born to support.”

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Jean Dukes R&D Lab

  The large black German Shepherd walked around the R&D lab, easily threading through the crowd to find his way to Jean’s office.

  Jean?

  Jean looked up to see Matrix standing there. “What’s up?”

  I’d like to understand why TOM is saying that the specifications for my latest armor are not adequate to allow me to wear it.

  Jean looked down at the results of the latest implosion device which used the smallest version of a black hole they could temporarily create. So far the math worked, but the reality was far from the math.

  She sighed. It wasn’t going to be built any time soon, and she needed a break anyway. “Walk with me.”

  Matrix followed Jean out of the lab and ignored the two Guards who immediately attached themselves as Jean headed towards the nearest park.

  “The problems with the armor,” Jean started explaining to the inquisitive dog, "are the potential issues of vacuum and space. Like if you get ejected during an attack on a ship you are on. The links that enable the armor to move with your body stretch and flex.”

  Jean started making motions with her arms. “The speed and direction your legs move will create a friction problem at that point, and they will hypothetically stick.” The four of them walked into the park. A few of the people pointed towards Matrix, who ignored the attention.

  He really didn’t like the popularity he inspired. If he could just sit in an office and review new information, he might be a truly happy dog. However, nanocytes or no nanocytes, he did need to exercise.

  “This is as much for me as it is for you,” Jean admitted as she pulled out a small yellow ball. “I need the exercise as well.”

  I didn’t think you read minds, he asked her.

  “I don’t, but you have bent my ear enough for me to know playing any version of fetch isn’t your idea of a great time.”

  True, but I get it. Fire away, he told her, then ran as she threw the first pitch. Her method was to throw it high into the air, allowing Matrix a moment to try and figure out the apogee and guess where the ball would land. Matrix scored himself.

  Nineteen out of twenty.

  He figured the light source messed up his calculations. While he could have intuited where the ball would go, that wasn’t what he wanted to accomplish. He tried instead to calculate the ball’s angle and velocity as it left Jean’s hand and determine the height and distance it would travel. Then he would convert the distance into running strides and project from where he was. He allowed himself to be off by one stride to either side of his calculation.

  It wasn’t perfection, but perhaps he would get closer if they went through another twenty tosses.

  An hour later Jean had to beg off, as her arm was starting to hurt.

  Leath, the Gods' Chambers

  Torik was deep in thought as he wandered into the general meeting rooms for the Seven. His ruminations were interrupted when a female of his clan greeted him. He looked up to see her working at their central table.

  “Torik, what has you so deep in concentration?”

  He nodded a greeting. In centuries past they had dropped their Kurtherian names to allow those they manipulated to more properly address them. “Var’ence.” He joined her at the table, slipping into the chair next to her and turning his body in her direction.

  “I am having trouble calculating the correct options related to the new challenges the Leath are encountering with the Karillians. Their efforts to overtake the planet have been rebuffed multiple times.”

  Var’ence pondered. “I imagine it is due to a problem in the calculations.” She put up a hand, “Not with your calculations, but some lack of information. What don’t we know about these new aliens?”

  He temporized. “I’ve used all variables for aliens inside and outside the range of what we have encountered before.” With a thought he sent his efforts to Var’ence, whose eyes opened when she realized the scope of the effort Torik had undertaken so far.

  The two sat quietly for a moment and digested the data before Var’ence offered, “Why don’t we get more information, so the calculations can be completed?” She looked at him. “Presuming that there is something missing?”

  It took a moment for the beauty of the probabilities to spread through Torik’s mind. The colors created as the new options interlaced brought a smile to his face. “Yes, let us do that.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Prime Guardian’s Office

  Peter closed down the screens on his tablet. “Meredith?” he asked as he locked his desk. He made the effort to physically lock his desk simply so Meredith would know that he didn’t want anyone going through it.

  That way if someone did, she would notify him immediately.

  “Yes, Peter?”

  “Can you tell me where Gyada is at the moment?” he requested as he stood and reached for the ceiling, stretching his back. He could feel his spine crack in a couple of places. Perhaps that last fall he had taken during his workout with Tim had required a bit of a cool-down and recovery, which he hadn’t done.

  Teach him to walk away as if being slammed to the floor from six feet in the air was something to shrug off.

  “She is presently walking toward a bar she enjoys.”

  “All Guns Blazing?” Peter asked, trying to remember if he had seen her in that place.

  “No, she is heading towards NS Squared.”

  Peter thought about that for a moment. He knew he had been there, but was trying to remember with...ah!

  “Pearl’s place? The one Tabitha likes to go to?”

  “The same,” Meredith answered.

  Peter closed his office door for privacy and walked over to his locker. Dropping his military fatigues, he pulled out a set of civilian clothes—some jeans and a large cotton shirt with grey, green and black lines running through it. His black belt and some black leather shoes completed the outfit.

  Taking a quick glance in the mirror, he winked at himself before placing his military clothing into the locker and closing it and heading out of the Guardians’ operations wing.

  If he w
as heading for Never Submit-Never Surrender, he wanted to fit in. He knew Gyada wouldn’t be there in anything but blue-collar clothes.

  It was a bar many of the Guards and Guardians visited from time to time. You didn’t need to have your uniform on for the people there to know you were family.

  The family of doers, not talkers.

  Whether it was cops, firemen, engineers, military or just those who had put in the time and honored the ones who had made it possible, NS Squared was the place you went when you needed a beer.

  And a chance to talk to Pearl.

  —

  Gyada strode along the hallway, keeping to herself. She had signed onto the Meredith Reynolds as a way to distance herself from her children—those who had been killed so long ago by that madman in Russia and the others she had taken on her team.

  Bethany Anne had received her gratefully and treated her like an aunt. Older and wiser in some ways, but mostly Bethany Anne had been worried about Gyada’s fragile emotional state.

  Queen at the time, Bethany Anne had simply looked into Gyada’s eyes and told her, “All things will heal in time. You will know when you are ready. Until then, teach, train and keep yourself in shape. Because,” the Queen’s eyes went from soft to hard, “if I have to, I’ll take those who are broken-in-heart and require their service. So you will need to be ready if it happens.”

  At this moment, Gyada wondered for what had to be the hundredth time if the threat in the Queen’s voice had been real.

  Would Bethany Anne make her fight? She had heard about the Leath, and she was familiar with the battles.

  But she had not been asked to join.

  Even now, months later, she knew about the Guardians and their efforts to ramp up enrollment and bring more teams on board.

  And still she had not been asked.

  Was she too damaged to belong to a family again? Did Bethany Anne mean for her to volunteer?

  Would she volunteer, or did she just want to continue this lonely existence and maybe learn another trade—one that didn’t require her to kill.

  Pearl nodded at her when she saw who had come into the bar. The place was smaller, with a long row of seats on the left. The backs of the seats "could cover John Grimes’s head" Tabitha had told her one time.