Raven Stratagem (The Machineries of Empire, #2)(19)

It must be nice not to have to respond to jokes like that. Khiruev followed Jedao out. The servitors blinked respectfully, then began cleaning up the cards that had been spilled.

The cindermoth had rearranged its corridors so their route to the command center was short and direct. Khiruev disliked the accompanying sense of vertigo. In her dreams she was always convinced that the floors would gnash open to reveal the teeth of eager gears, but Jedao gave no sign of discomfort.

Commander Janaia saluted them on behalf of the command center’s crew. “Hafn outriders of some sort, sir. Scoutmoth 7 is staying at maximum scan. Formants are a mess. Hard to tell whether they’ve spotted us.”

“All moths on combat alert,” Jedao said. Red light washed from all the terminal boundaries. He took the command chair and studied the scan readings while the webbing secured him. Khiruev took her place to the general’s right, feeling redundant.

“Oh, don’t look like that,” Jedao murmured. “I have every intention of making use of you.”

How serious was he? “If you want information from the Hafn,” Khiruev said, “now’s the time. It’s not any secret to them that they have an enemy swarm incoming. Assume they’ve spotted us and probe them for their capabilities.”

“Agreed,” Jedao said, half-smiling. “Communications, get me Commander Kavinte.”

That was the commander of Singe the Hour, lead bannermoth of Tactical Group Five. “I should warn you that she’s argumentative, sir,” Khiruev said.

“Yes, I saw that in her profile.”

“Singe the Hour responding, sir,” Communications said, and forwarded the call to Jedao’s terminal.

Commander Kavinte had an overly pretty face, all symmetry and graceful nuance, until you got to her eyes. The intimation of casual ruthlessness in her eyes reminded Khiruev of Jedao, now that she thought about it. “General,” Kavinte said.

“We have no idea how many Hafn are out there because their mothdrives fuck up our readings,” Jedao said with cheerful bluntness, “and for that matter who knows the range on their scan, either. Want to help me figure it out?”

“Sir,” Kavinte said crushingly, “you’re our general. You don’t have to put it to a vote. Just give the order already before the Hafn notice we’re dithering and call their friends.”

“Oh, I never put anything to votes,” Jedao said, “but your brain is a resource and I intend to use it as one. You want to prove to me how good Tactical Five is at Lexicon Secondary?”

Lexicon Primary referred to the formations that the Kel were benchmarked against in drill, and which they used in battle. Lexicon Secondary mostly contained formations that were of historical interest, or that were trotted out for colorful effects in parades and during celebrations. Kavinte had a standing interest in obscure formations. Khiruev had been guessing that that was why Jedao had singled her out.

“We’re Kel, sir,” Kavinte said. “We’ll execute whatever you have in mind.” There was more than a hint of challenge in her words.

“Good to know.” Jedao adjusted some figures on his tactical subdisplay, considered them, then looked up. “Tactical Five, assume formation Swallow Braves the Thorns. Once you’re in formation, approach the long axis of the outrider spindle exactly head-on until you’re at extreme scan range. Scoutmoth 7 will withdraw to—” He named the coordinates. “All other tactical groups, assume grand formation Harrower Hawk with forward central null and the command moth as primary pivot. Moth commanders acknowledge.”

The terminal lit up with acknowledgments in neat amber columns corresponding to the tactical groups and scoutmoth flights. Commander Janaia’s eyes were alight. She turned to her executive officer and began giving orders.

Khiruev wished she felt as sanguine. She was certain that Swallow Braves the Thorns was a test for the Hafn. It was a flashy parade formation from Lexicon Secondary, but if you didn’t see the disposition of the rear elements, it could be mistaken for Wave-Breaker from Lexicon Primary.

Tactical Five reported that it had reached extreme scan range and that the Hafn moths’ formants didn’t look any clearer, but the Hafn didn’t seem to be reacting, either.

Jedao tapped out a calculation. “General Jedao to Tactical Five. I want you to maintain formation and advance at 19% of your secondary drive. Alert me the moment you get a reaction, and also report your distance from their leading elements at that time.” To Khiruev, he said, “Odd that they’re just maintaining their distance. Can they not see Tactical Five, or is it a trap?”

Khiruev had her mind on something else. She had a clear view of Jedao’s calculation. One of the systems of modulo congruences that Jedao had asked the grid to solve for him was something that any first-year cadet should have been able to do in his head, by inspection. The general couldn’t—but now wasn’t the time to ask. Khiruev looked away and told herself that her unease was baseless, but she was honestly surprised that Jedao was weak in abstract algebra.

“Commander Janaia,” Jedao was saying, “I’ve forwarded you a series of waypoints. Advance, but keep Tactical Five within eighteen minutes of the swarm at current acceleration at all times.”

“Sir,” Janaia said, and gave the necessary orders to Navigation.

“Incoming from Commander Kavinte,” Communications said.