Passage at Arms by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online

heads. The Fleet.” He smiled a broad, boyish smile, the kind to win a mother’s love. “So I went best two out of three and three out of five. Voila! Here I am.”
    “Going to make Admiral in a year,” the Old Man said.
    “Might take longer than that.” Bradley’s grin weakened.
    “What I don’t understand is why they sent me out here instead of to Fleet Two. Admiral Tannian is self-sufficient.”
    “Maybe too self-sufficient,” I suggested. “Some people in Luna Command think he’s too independent. He’s got his own little empire out here.”
    The Commander glanced back. “That something you know, or just speculation?”
    “Half and half.”
    Yanevich grunted. My friend lapsed into indifference. Later, he said, “T-ville coming up. First Watch Officer, I’ll drop you and Bradley at the north gate. I’ll take my friend sight-seeing.”
    Earlier, there had been a big raid. The sky over Turbeyville had been filled with ships and missiles. I’d expressed an interest in seeing the aftermath. Once I did, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
    Njvy has two headquarters in-system. One is beneath Turbeyville. The other is buried deep inside Canaan’s major moon. Canaan has two satellites, tiny TerVeen and the big moon, which has no other name. Just the moon. I was glad of a chance to poke around one headquarters before the mission.
    I roamed alone. The Commander, First Watch Officer, and Ship’s Services Officer were busy with what looked like make-work, preparing for the mission. I found myself more welcome among the PR-sensitive staff at Climber Command. They arranged interviews with people whose names were household words on the Inner Worlds. Real heroes of the Fleet. Men and women who’d survived their ten missions. They were a depressing bunch. I began to develop a sour outlook myself, and to wonder just how bright I’d been, asking to join a Climber patrol.
    Then the Commander turned up at my room in Transient Officers’ Quarters. “Our last night here. Heading for the Pits tomorrow. The rest of us are going slumming. Want to come along?”
    “I don’t know.” I’d tried the O clubs. They were filled with dreary staff types. Their atmosphere was both boring and stultifying. There’s nothing deadlier than a congregation of conscientious bureaucrats.
    “We’re going a different place. Private club. Climber people and guests only. The real front-line warriors.” His smile was sarcastic. “Give you a chance to meet our astrogator, Westhause. Just turned up. Good man, but he talks too much.”
    “Why not?” I had yet to meet any Climber people but those with whom I was traveling. The others might be less taciturn.
    “Called the Pregnant Dragon, for reasons lost in the trackless deserts of time.” He grinned at my raised eyebrow. “Don’t wear your best. Sometimes it gets rowdy.”
    Something came up which demanded the Commander’s attention, so we arrived late. But not late enough. I should’ve stayed behind.
    That night witnessed the destruction of a hundred cherished cities in my land of illusions.
    The Dragon was up near the surface, in an old subbasement. I heard it long before I saw it, and when I saw it, I asked, “This’s an Officers’ Club?”,
    “Climber people only,” Westhause said, grinning. “Down people couldn’t handle it.”
    Four hundred people had packed themselves into a space that had served two hundred before the war. Odors hit me like a surprise fist in the face. Alcohol. Vomit. Tobacco. Urine. Drugs. All backed by mind-shattering noise. The customers had to shout to make themselves heard over the efforts of an abominable local band. Civilian waiters and waitresses cursed their ways through the press, getting groped by both sexes. I guess the tips made up for the indignities. Climber people had nothing else to do with their pay.
    Athwart the doorway, lying like some fallen angel seduced by the sins of Gomorrah, was a full Commander wearing Muslim Chaplain’s