“Not Narvo’s ships, sir.” Aguilera straightened the edges of the papers in the file. “Ours.”
“Are you speaking of Pluthrak?” Aille waggled an ear in desultory consideration. “I brought only one ship with me, upon my assignment to this world, and it is hardly suitable for ramming.”
Aguilera’s eyes were strangely bright for a human. Aille could almost see the thought patterns dancing across them. “No, the ships in Pascagoula, the ones we’ve been refitting!”
“The submersibles?” Yaut sat back, his snout wrinkled in unalloyed bafflement.
“They’re as big as any of our Jao spacecraft, and much more massive,” Nath pointed out. “They were built to resist tons of pressure from without. Even if they didn’t survive the ramming, I am certain they would inflict a great deal of damage.”
Aille thought of the ships cradled like children-yet-to-be-born in their berths back in the refit facility. They were indeed heavily armored and of amazingly stout construction.
“And I bet the Ekhat wouldn’t be expecting that kind of attack either,” Aguilera added. “From what I can tell, neither you nor the Ekhat ever fight inside the sun, because your lasers won’t work there. Fancy missiles wouldn’t either. But it takes them time to form that plasma shell around their ships, according to the reports. You could bring in a whole squadron of refitted submarines and attack from a number of angles. If your people provide us with their opinion on where the most vulnerable areas lie, we might even be able to take them out before they make a run at Earth.”
Aille turned the concept over in his mind, trying to view it as his instructors back in the kochanata would have, or even the fabled tacticians and strategists of the Ebezon Harriers. Would they perceive this as opportunity, a chance to make one’s self of use, or dereliction of duty and the purest folly?
“The idea has merits,” he said at length. “We will examine it further.”
* * *
When Aille and his service arrived at the Governor’s palace, a blustery wind was blowing out of the direction called “west,” scattering twigs and dust and debris, and whistling around the overhang’s supports. He stepped out of the groundcar into the blaring sun. There was change in that wind, a subtle lessening of the intense heat of this region, and the promise that hai tau, life-in-motion, flow, was making itself known even here in this alien landscape. Balances were altering, that wind said, priorities shifting. It was up to him to decipher how and where.
Aille bounded up the steps, hoping at least a rudimentary staff had been left in place to attend to urgent matters. But the building seemed to be deserted. Several groundcars had been left in the drive, abandoned, while the massive native-style wooden doors stood open.
Apparently, as Tamt had reported, Oppuk had posted both staff and service to his flagship, while dispersing the rest to safe areas and dismissing the unneeded human servants. Across the entire planet, the remaining occupying forces must also have received orders to either flee the surface or conceal themselves in bunkers constructed and supplied against just this possibility.
Aille entered the puzzling gray stone chamber just beyond the doors and closed his eyes, assessing the situation. The artificial temperature controls had been turned off. Within, the heat had already built to an oppressive level, even to Jao senses.
Flow was still fast, events and discoveries occurring at an ever accelerating rate. He could feel the need to act decisively rising like a restless tide in his blood.
He tightened his timesense to slow his perception somewhat. “We need to locate the command center,” he told Yaut.
The fraghta’s body was stiff with worried-doubt. “Think this through before you act. Your orders are clear. Narvo holds oudh here. Pluthrak has no official status beyond your assigned rank. If you disregard Oppuk’s orders, he will petition the Naukra to have you declared kroudh.”
Outlawed. Aille’s whiskers straightened. Individuals were pronounced kroudh from time to time for outlandish behavior and refusal to honor association, but he had never actually known anyone so designated.
“I hear you,” he told Yaut, though he knew the possibility would make no difference. He would do what he had to do as the current flow played out. He knew where his own vithrik lay, no matter how someone else might view it. He could do no less than make himself of the fullest use in this situation—and that was not to hide, lying in wait while the Ekhat laid waste to this world, when there were viable alternatives available.