Conventions of War by Walter Jon Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

silence.
    Martinez called the tactical display onto the wall, just to make certain nothing new had appeared. Even though the naked children on the walls gazed at the displays as if in fascination, Martinez found there had been no change.
    He closed the display and gazed at his desk, at images of Terza floating in the midnight surface. He thought of the child they had made together and he was suddenly possessed by a desperate exaltation, a hunger he could taste far more keenly than he had his meal. The idea of a child was a wonder to him, and he felt a blade-sharp longing for the child that he had never quite felt for Terza.
    Suddenly, desperately, he wanted to be with his family aboard the Ensenada, the Martinez family yacht that was taking them from abandoned Zanshaa to safety on Laredo. He wanted to be with Terza, to bask in her placid smile and watch the minute progress of the child growing within her. For a brief, intense moment he would have thrown away all ambition in exchange for a quiet life of familial bliss.
    There was a knock on the frame of his cabin door, and he looked up to see Lieutenant Chandra Prasad, the one person on Illustrious with whom he didn’t want to be alone.
    â€œYes?” he said.
    Chandra entered, closed the door behind her, and walked to his desk. She braced properly at the salute, shoulders flared back, chin high, throat bared—the posture imposed by the empire’s Shaa conquerors on all vanquished species, the better to allow their superiors to cut their throats if they felt so inclined.
    â€œYes, Lieutenant?” Martinez said.
    She relaxed and held out a thick envelope. “From Lord Captain Fletcher.”
    The envelope was of thick smooth paper in a faintly cranberry shade, no doubt custom-made for Captain Fletcher by the foremost papermaker of Harzapid. The seal on the envelope had many quarterings and reflected the captain’s illustrious heritage.
    Martinez broke the seal and withdrew a card, which invited him to dine with the captain on the next day, to honor the birthday of Squadron Commander Chen. Exigencies of the service permitting, of course.
    He looked up at Chandra. She had auburn hair, a pointed chin, and a mischievous glint in her long eyes.
    â€œI’ll come, of course,” he said.
    â€œShall I wait for your reply?” Chandra asked.
    Even though the captain’s quarters were only a few paces away and the invitation nothing a sane officer could possibly decline, custom of the service nevertheless required that Martinez reply to a written invitation with a written reply.
    â€œIf you’re not required elsewhere,” he said.
    The mischievous eyes sparkled. “I am entirely at the captain’s service,” Chandra said.
    Which was all too true. Lieutenant Lady Chandra Prasad was Captain Fletcher’s lover, a situation dangerous with potential for intrigue and service politics. That potential was all the greater for the fact that she and Martinez, at the time both obscure lieutenants of provincial origin, had once been involved with each other, a tempestuous relationship that featured mutual betrayals and a parting that had left Martinez feeling relieved rather than rueful.
    Martinez didn’t know if Captain Fletcher knew of his involvement with Chandra, and the lack of certainty made him uneasy. His unease was increased by his knowledge of Chandra’s character, which was ambitious, restless, and explosive.
    Which was why he didn’t want to be alone with her for any length of time.
    He got a card and envelope from his desk and in his best hand wrote a brief acceptance. As he sealed the card in its envelope he had a mental picture of Fletcher touching the card stock with his sensitive fingers and shaking his head at its inferior quality.
    Martinez offered the envelope to Chandra, who was looking down at his desktop with her head tilted, casting a critical glance at Terza’s pictures.
    â€œIt’s unfair that