The Insurrection

"I don't yet have all the details, however, and I'd appreciate it if you'd summarize for my staff, as well." "Summarize, Admiral?" Stiegman drained half the glass in a single gulp. "Gladly. In fact, I'll be delighted to let someone else worry about it for a while." His slowly easing tension wasn't lost on his listeners, and they hunched closer to him as he began.

"It started about a month ago," he said slowly.

"I put into Bigelow with a mail consignment--they break it down on Hasdruble for transshipment to the rest of the cluster--and they told me my departure clearance and return cargo would be delayed a day or two." He shrugged. "Two days is a long layover, but I've had longer, so I didn't think much about it.

"But a few hours later, the port master called me up again--something about a viral infection and they couldn't find one of the people who'd been exposed. He agreed the odds were against their plague carrier being on board, but SOP required a search of the ship. Well, I wasn't too pleased, but nobody wants to chance another plague outbreak, so I agreed." He paused and stared down into his drink. When he looked back up, his eyes were hot.

"But it wasn't any damned medical inspection party they sent aboard my ship," he grated. "It was an entire platoon of Marines--comor they wore Marine combat zoots, anyway." He relaxed his muscles with a visible effort. "But they were already aboard, and no one in his right mind argues with a platoon of zoots, whoever's inside 'em." He shook his head slowly, remembering.

"They were polite as hell--I'll give the bastards that! But they posted two men in each drive room and two more on the bridge, and they told me-- me, the skipper of a Federation mail packet, damn 'em!--that they had to 'detain" me." His lips twisted. "Wouldn't say why or for how long.

Wouldn't say anything else. Just stood there and waited for their reliefs." He growled something under his breath and finished his drink. Forsythe personally refilled the glass, to his obvious relief, and he sipped again, more slowly. "Anyway, they had us. I tried getting a message out when I saw a Frontier Fleet cruiser on my screens, but they were on top of me in seconds. No nas. tiness, you understand--just another guard suddenly appeared in the corn section and they stripped off our drones in case I got any snart ideas about using them. con"At first, I thought it was some kind of mistake, but then I figured out the whole orbit port was in on it--whichatever 'x" was. And at least some of those "Marines" really were Marines. I'm sure of it. I considered piracy, a real medical emergency--hell, even a port[*oslashgg'wide outbreak of mass insanity! But I never once considered what was really happening." "And that was, Captain?" Willis Enwright prompted when Stiegman paused once more.

The whole damned system's decided to "secede" from the Federation!" The blood drained from Lieutenant Qwan's face. Enwright's features only tightened slowly, but Samsonov looked as if he'd bebn punched in the stomach and Rivera looked murderous. Only Forsythe seemed unaffected but, then, only he had seen Admiral Ashigara's scrambled transmission.

"I see, Captain Stiegman," he said quietly. "And their objective, obviously, was to keep Rising Moon from letting the cat out of the bag?" "Exactly. Took us a while to put it together, Admiral, but there had to be some contact between my tech crews and the port service perso

"Near as we can figure it, it all began a month or so after Ladislaus Skjorning got home. Nobody's sure whether it was his idea or whether it was his whole damned planet's notion, but Beaufort's where it started, and whoever pla

"They sent out "emissaries," Captain.

God only knows what kind of underground's been cooking away out here, but they sure as hell knew who to talk to where, and they sent out people like Stanislaus Skjorning and Dame MacTaggart. Hell, no wonder people listened! I'm a Fringer myself; I know how hot tempers are ru

"Because they're not stupid, however crazy they are.

They stage-managed it perfectly. Just one day everything is peaceful and fine; the next, Killiman Skywatch is in mutinous hands." "Killiman Skywatch?" Rivera half-rose. "Good Ged, man, do you know what you're saying?" "Damn fight I do." Stiegman seemed almost gloomily satisfied by Rivera's reaction. "I don't know how they did it, but I know they had Killiman, and I'm pretty sure they had Beaufort. Don't know about Bigelow--they were playing it mighty close to their chests in Bigelow, which could mean they didn't have Bigelow Skywatch--but Bigelow's the only way into the cluster, so it could just mean they were being careful in case of visitors." "Even ff they have Skywatch," Samsonov said, thinking out loud, "there's still the Frontier Fleet orbital base. No armament to speak of, but there's a Bigelow-based cruiser squadron. They might not want--was "Exactly, Gregor," Forsythe cut in, and Samsonov broke off as he remembered a civilian was present. "Captain Stiegman," the admiral went on, "did you at any time monitor... unusual, shall we say, eom traffic between the orbit port and Skywatch or the Fleet base?" "Never," Stiegman said flatly, "and we kept a good listening watch." "I see. And how did you finally come to escape, Captain?" "We were lucky--comor maybe they got careless. My engineer contacted a buddy in the orbit port and suggested most of the Fringers in our crew were on their side and ready to mutiny against me with a little help from their "Marines". Stiegman shrugged.

He'll know what to do from there." "Glad to." Stiegman finished his drink and set it aside, his face thoughtful. "And may I ask what you plan to do, Admiral?" "You may," Forsythe said with a wry smile, "but I'm afraid I haven't really decided, yet." "I see." Stiegrnan rose. "In that case, I'll get back to my ship, with your permission.

But, Admiral" he met Forsythe's eyes levelly his--comI'd recommend some caution. You haven't talked to these people; I have. They're serious, mighty serious." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I haven't seen your intelligence reports, but this is my normal run. I've felt the tension growing out here for months, and I can tell you this--the Fringe is a nuke about to go off, Admiral." "I know, Captain Stiegman. I know." There was a brief silence after Stiegman's departure. Forsythe and his juniors stared down at the carpet, wrapped in thought. Finally the old man raised his head.

"Ceaeaaptain Stiegman," he said, "is a most resourceful man.

"Yes, and he's got guts," Enwright's voice was tighter than usual, "but I can't help thinking he was a little too lucky, sir." "In what way, Willis?" "He got away with it," Enwright said bluntly.

"No one fired on him and no one chased him. If they had, they'd'ye caught him. A packet's fast, but so is a light cruiser--and a erniser's armed." "True. But if they haven't taken the Fleet base or Skywatch, the rebels couldn't have fired on him--assuming they had anything to fire with--without alerting those installations." "No, sir. But why didn't either of those bases ask Rising Moon where she was going and why? Don't tell me she had departure clearance!" "A point. You're suggesting, then, that the rebels control everything? The entire cluster, fortifications and all?" "We can't know that, sir. I'd say they hold Bigelow, but the rest of the cluster?" Enwright shrugged.