Gabe stepped through the hatch and into one of the conference rooms of the Concord, free of his father’s cane and ready to face the world on his own two feet again. He stretched a bit and sighed at the pleasure of not feeling a twinge of pain with every movement.
Across the room, he saw Susan in a close conversation with an assortment of officers, likely trying to find a way to prepare for the coming attack. Gabe could sympathize. The pilots who had faced the WGCs during the battle had fought well, but the story would have been very different if the Directorate had come in larger numbers—or worse, if there had been SSS rigs among the first waves. No matter how good Gabe’s pilots were, he doubted any of them would be able to down a triple S without some help from the Lord Himself.
Delacourt looked up as Gabe approached, and Gabe could see concern in her eyes. She motioned for him to join the officers at the table. “Captain Miller, are you recovering well?”
He nodded, careful to keep his response appropriately formal. “I am, Admiral. I thought I would brief you on our progress with the rigs.”
She gestured for him to continue, and Gabe did so once he had taken his seat with the others. “We lost five pilots in the last engagement, though it could have been much worse.”
Captain Ndigwe, still in command of the Deliverance, leaned back in her seat. “Worse, Captain?”
“Yes, sir.” Gabe made a face. “During the engagement, we were lucky to only face WGCs. The Directorate has access to much more dangerous equipment. If they’d come for us with triple S models, I don’t know how many of us would have made it home.”
Susan nodded, her expression solemn. “I understand that quite a few rigs were damaged as well, Captain Miller.”
“Half a dozen rigs made it out of the battle with minor hits—or even more severe damage, like mine—but we should have all of them operational by the time the enemy comes after us again.” Gabe shrugged. “That said, I think we should probably do our best to avoid any further skirmishes with them if we can. There’s a limit to how much damage we can repair—and how many rigs we can replace.”
Captain Veringer of the Harvest spoke up. “How soon are we expecting the enemy to arrive? I was surprised that they didn’t cascade into the system right after us.”
Ndigwe was the one who answered. “Resonance drives aren’t quite as agile as that, Captain.” At a gesture from Susan, she continued. “A drive can normally only perform a cascade once every couple of days, and that doesn’t even take into account the difficulties of locating and matching another ship’s burst signature.”
Susan nodded. “That’s correct. The enemy might have a drive more effective than ours, but they will still need to analyze the signatures we’ve left behind. I have no doubt that they will follow once they have done so, but at the very least, the delay might buy us enough time to regroup.”
Veringer tapped the table with one finger. “A quick escape from this system is out of the question, then?”
Susan folded her arms across her chest. “That is correct, Captain. The Concord is equipped with a drive that is comparatively efficient, but it requires a substantial amount of cooldown and recovery time between cascades. It will likely be another four days before we can make the transit to the next system.”
Captain Pa grunted. He looked sour at the moment, but the man in charge of their repair facilities on the Foundry could hardly be expected to be cheerful. “So we should be anticipating another engagement, then. And perhaps another after that even if we escape.”
The other officers shifted in their seats, but Captain Sherman of the Redemption broke in before they could grow too discouraged. “I don’t think it should be as bad as that. They aren’t going to jump in right on top of us, and if we manage to hide well enough from them, we might avoid battle completely.”
Susan gave her a grateful look. “That is true. In fact, our ability to avoid the enemy will be our primary advantage in the upcoming battles. Since the exit point for the enemy fleet is relatively uncertain, it will be quite possible for us to avoid contact as long as we don’t stumble directly into their arms.”
Pa’s frown deepened. “Might I ask what we will do to avoid their scouts? It is all well and good to hide from the enemy, but if their rigs do manage to locate us and their fleet takes us by surprise, our previous casualties would be light by comparison to what we will suffer.”
Gabe answered, knowing that this question was within his realm of expertise. “Our own patrols will be adjusted to watch for that situation, Captain. In the last system, we were more worried about finding out if possible opponents had entered the system. Now that we know what we’re dealing with, we can plan our approach and tactics better.”
He glanced at Susan, and she smiled. Gabe took that as encouragement to continue, and tapped in a command for the display in front of his seat. The hazy, indistinct images of the Directorate fleet sprang up between the gathering of officers, and he started to demonstrate how the Wayfarer rigs could respond. “This time, instead of merely scouting the area around the enemy’s entry point, we can send in rigs ready for combat since we know that anyone coming after us is hostile. While the RSRs patrol the general area and give us warning about any incoming threats, CTRs will escort them and engage the enemy scout units. That should keep them from trailing our patrols back to our fleet, and gives us a chance to drive off the WGCs before they gather any information on us.”
Ndigwe tilted her head to one side, studying the images intently. “And if the Directorate loses some of their scouts to our CTR patrols, that means they may refit their scouts to carry more combat equipment. That would curtail their ability to deploy specialized scouting forces and delay the detection of our ships.”
Captain Pa nodded, his expression far less surly. “Perhaps. At least this plan would use our resources well. By mixing RSRs in with flights of CTRs, we can provide a decent level of sensor coverage while not overtaxing our small number of scouting rigs.”
Commander Mesic, who had been silent throughout the discussion, now spoke. “Admiral Delacourt, sir, I agree with your decision to avoid combat if possible, but I do feel the need to ask. What will happen if evasion becomes impossible? If the Directorate launches another assault, how do you intend to respond?”
The question froze Gabe’s breath in his chest. He looked at Susan, worried that she would take the question the wrong way, or that it would reveal her inner doubts about the conflict. The last thing they needed right now was a leader with divided loyalties, and the next worst thing would have been to have the officers of the Defense Forces begin to doubt Susan’s leadership. Yet Susan simply returned Mesic’s stare. “We will do what is necessary to survive, Commander Mesic. We have no other choice. There are too many people—innocent people—who depend on us.”
Mesic shifted uneasily in his seat, but he held his peace. Susan watched him for a moment more, and then looked around the table. Gabe felt the steel in her gaze as she studied each of them in turn. Then she tapped the controls for the display, replacing Gabe’s patrol patterns with the indistinct scans of the enemy fleet. “Let me be clear. Our best option at this point is to avoid conflict. The enemy has nearly twice the number of cruisers we have, and their crews are battle hardened. They do not have to worry about protecting a convoy of civilians, while we do in order to prevent a massacre. They also have modern escort craft, a much larger number of combat rigs, and the firepower their flagship could bring to bear. In a direct engagement, we would very likely be cut to shreds.
“All the same, we do have one advantage that their task force does not enjoy. Time.” A murmur of confusion ran through the officers, but she continued before they could raise their voices. “Unlike these ships, we have no need to return to the Known Worlds. We have no other responsibilities, and we carry enough supplies for a long journey. They are working on a time limit, one that will grow tighter the further away we go from the Known Worlds. As their supplies run low and that distance increases, they will have to consider their need to return to their normal duties rather than following us out into the unknown.”
“So our plan is to run, then.” The tone of Captain Exeter’s words set Gabe’s teeth on edge, but Susan merely returned the officer’s gaze with complete calm.
“It’s not running to continue our journey, Captain, and it’s especially not running when we are facing such difficult odds. Victory here is survival, not conquest.” Susan gestured again at the Directorate fleet. “I have no intention of losing forces we may later need by attacking a strong opponent. Not only would we lose people and material, but the casualties we inflict on them might inspire the Directorate to continue their chase long after they would have otherwise given up. Outrunning them is the best option. It won’t be easy, but it’s more reasonable to try that than to die for no reason.”
Captain Exeter’s expression had turned to stone. He seemed about to speak again, but Gabe broke in before he could. “I can appreciate the desire to fight, Exeter, but she’s right. Sometimes, for the good of His people, the Lord asks us to do something we’d rather not do.” He grinned. “At least, that seems to be something I recall my father telling me when it was my turn to take out the trash.”
A wry smile appeared on Susan’s face and she shook her head. “I have no idea why he would feel the need to remind you of that so forcefully, Captain Miller.” The officers around the table chuckled, and Exeter settled back into his seat. He still seemed dissatisfied, but then, he hadn’t been crashing along any rig recovery bays recently.
Susan waited until the officers had calmed again, and then she looked around. “Are there any other questions before we continue?” Silence was the only response. She turned to Gabe, and he saw a hint of gratitude in her eyes. “Captain Miller, are there any other concerns the rig forces feel they should share with the remainder of the fleet? I know we will be relying heavily on your people for the duration of this campaign.”
Gabe grinned. “No, Admiral. The attention we’ve been getting is enough for us.” Then he felt a reluctant compulsion to add a bit more to that sentence. “I do need to thank the fleet for the assistance of the new search and recovery rigs. They’ve already contributed to the work in transporting damaged rigs to the repair teams, and I feel that they will provide more help in the future.”
Some of the other officers seemed just as uncomfortable hearing Gabe’s praise as he felt giving it, but Susan merely nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. For now, the fleet will assume their assigned positions while the rigs begin their patrol cycles. Thank you for your support.”
The others filed out of the room, but Gabe stayed until he and Susan had been left alone. She was studying the display of the system, as if trying to figure out where the Directorate fleet would appear. He waited for a while, letting her enjoy the quiet of her own thoughts. Then she looked over at him and smiled. “Still here, Gabriel?”
Gabe stood and walked over to her. “Yeah. Just wanted to see if you were doing all right. How are you holding up?”
“Oh, about as well as can be expected.” Susan looked over at him a smiled a little. “At the very least, the Council can’t keep us sitting still now. On the whole, however, I think I would have preferred not having to run from a Directorate task force, even if it meant having to fight with the Council instead.”
He grinned. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes Elder Ishval can get pretty hard to deal with.”
Susan laughed, and Gabe felt his heart skip a beat. He’d missed that sound. “I suppose you may be right, Gabriel.” She stood and motioned to the display. “How likely is it that we’re going to be able to mislead the Directorate with this plan? Give me your perspective as a rig officer.”
Gabe considered the display for a few moments. Then he sighed. “We might be able to outmaneuver them for a while, but things are probably going to get risky fast. The officer on the other side might start to guess our intentions. Unless they come in blind and stupid, we could still get caught.”
She let out a breath. “You’re right, unfortunately. I estimate that we might be able to avoid battle for a day, perhaps two, before they catch us again.”
He fell silent at that evaluation. She looked very serious now, and he wondered what was going through her mind. “Do you think we could talk to them? Maybe try to arrange some kind of cease fire to discuss the situation?”
“No.” Susan shook her head. “They must have been given a mandate by the Governing Council to come out this far, especially during the middle of the war. And the Council would not remove units from the front lines lightly; they would have orders to enforce the extermination decree they made when we took the Concord originally.” She laid a hand on the table, her expression worried. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had orders to ignore any signals we sent them. Communication with an enemy such as us is often considered treason. No task force commander would want to risk a treason charge just to listen to us.”
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“Especially if they thought we were just stalling for time. Which, if you think about it, we pretty much would be.” Gabe put a hand under his chin. “So talking is out, then. What about a distraction, or a decoy of some kind?”
“The problem with a decoy is that whoever we use, or whatever ships are involved, would not have a resonance drive so they could leave the system.” Susan took in the Concord with an expansive gesture. “The Directorate has likely realized that the only resonance drive is here, on this carrier. All they need to do is localize this ship and neutralize it, and then the entire rest of the Wayfarer fleet will be stranded in the system. They could pick us off at leisure.”
Gabe brought his head up. “Could we use the Concord as bait, then? Make them think the carrier is exposed and then hit them before they can reach her?”
Susan looked over at him. “Perhaps, but then we run the risk of being unable to retreat. We need time to form the gravitic connections before the cascade can occur—otherwise, the Concord would leave the system alone. The others would be destroyed.”
Then she paused, and a contemplative look spread over her face. “All the same, it would be an effective way to distract them. If it’s possible to make them think that the rest of the fleet isn’t here, and that Concord is the only ship left …” Susan nodded, and then smiled brightly. “This bears some thinking on, Captain Miller.”
He returned the smile and stepped closer to kiss her lightly. “Glad to hear it, Admiral.” Then Gabe stepped away with a put-upon sigh. “I guess I’ll need to get back to the rigs. Since we’re running those patrols, I probably need to start handing out assignments and such. No rest for the wicked.”
“Or the righteous, either, I expect.” Susan cocked her head and watched as he backed away. “Gabriel.”
Gabe stopped.
Susan lifted her chin. “I expect you to take of yourself from now on. Do you understand me?”
“Of course, Admiral.” He gave her his most charming smile. “Can I escort you to your office, ma’am?”
She hesitated. “No, I don’t think so, Captain.” When he crooked an eyebrow at her, Susan blushed—a sight vanishingly rare in itself. “I decided to take a trip down to Frame Sixty after all. Just to inspect that part of the ship for damage.”
Gabe blinked, and then laughed. “Why, Admiral, I’m shocked! What would your officers think?”
Susan glared at him, but her cheeks were still red. “As if you’re one to criticize, Gabriel.” Then she shook her head, her expression chagrined. “I know I shouldn’t, but it’s become enough of a distraction that I need to get it out of the way. Once I spend some time down there, it will lose its mystery and I can focus on what I need to do again.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you. Be safe on your little expedition, and don’t wander around too long. Otherwise, I’ll have to tell the Council you’re playing hooky.” Gabe offered a casual salute and retreated out the door before she could find something to throw at him. All in all, it had been a very good meeting indeed.
“Admiral, I don’t understand why we’re meeting this way. Couldn’t we have used a conference room?”
Susan tried to restrain a sigh as she listened to Elder Rollins. The man had come to visit the Concord and report on the damage and casualties to the Advisors’ Council, but he’d arrived just as she had started out for the mystery area near Frame Sixty. It also happened to be the only hour of free time she was likely to have for the next several days, and she had no intention of squandering her opportunity to explore just to have another interview with one of the Advisors. She’d been looking forward to it too much.
Older craft always had their share of quirks, secrets, and oddities that more recently built ships had not accumulated yet. The Concord had not been the only warship in the Directorate fleet with a long and varied history. Susan’s wanderings on other ships had uncovered quite a few interesting things during her service in the Directorate—once she had found an old, abandoned still in a concealed room, and another time she had stumbled onto a small impromptu art gallery hidden behind some coolant pipes—but she almost valued more the opportunity to relax and think through her problems. It was that chance to think and sort out her thoughts that she sought now, and if she had to drag Elder Rollins along with her, so be it.
Both of them were now wandering down the corridor the engineers had highlighted for her. From the damage to the surrounding bulkheads, the work crews had not reached the area yet, which was just fine with Susan. She had no desire to run across more people than she had to at the moment. Yet Rollins was still waiting for an answer, and she gave one in as level a voice as she could manage.
“Some of my duties require a conference room, Elder, but a simple conversation with you should not keep me from getting to know my flagship.” Susan paused and glanced at him. “Of course, if you would like to postpone our meeting, I would be open to speaking with you at a later time.”
Rollins looked a little cross, but he shook his head. “No, Admiral. I can appreciate how valuable your time is, and I would not want to keep you from your … work.” He glanced at a small hole in the bulkhead to their left, clearly unnerved by the signs of damage. “Have there been any more problems you feel we should know about?”
Susan shook her head. “No, not yet.” She picked her way past a crumpled pile of debris at a bend in the corridor, careful not to let any of the scattered junk touch her. Some of the damage appeared to have sheared through power connections, and it would not have surprised her to see that some of the debris was electrified. There were many other reasons that the area could have gained its designated danger status, but she had no intention of finding out which it was.
Up ahead, she saw someone waiting for them and mentally let lose a string of curses. It was Chief Kowalski, whom she recognized easily from his personnel docket. The engineer had obviously anticipated his superior officer’s “disobedience” and had planned accordingly. He carried a portable terminal in one hand and a box of tools in the other. When they drew close, he nodded amiably. “Admiral. I thought I would accompany you during your examination of this area.”
Susan studied him for a moment; the engineer was so pleased with himself that it was a surprise that he didn’t burst. She inclined her head. “Very well, Chief Kowalski. Elder Rollins from the Advisor’s Council has decided to join us.”
Kowalski nodded respectfully to Elder Rollins as well, and the two men shook hands. Susan was momentarily surprised by how casually Rollins accepted that greeting; most civilians of high rank tried to maintain some distance from those who were not considered their social peers, but perhaps the Wayfarers had never felt the same way about their leaders. In any case, she allowed Kowalski to lead the way through the rest of the corridor ahead. The chief kept up a running dialogue throughout the journey, warning of dangers ahead and explaining their progress to Elder Rollins as they went.
When they reached a particular section where a large portion of the right bulkhead had snapped off and cut deeply into the left side, Kowalski paused. “Be careful here. The power lines have definitely been cut, and I think we’ll lose lights up ahead. Don’t touch anything you don’t have to.” He edged past the jagged hole in one wall and the twisted, axe-like sheet of metal buried in the other. Susan and Rollins followed, and as predicted, the lights up ahead were out.
Kowalski passed each of them a hand light and they continued forward, the cones of illumination sweeping across the debris as they made their way deeper into the unknown. The stream of information from the chief had stopped, and Rollins took the opportunity to ask a question that Susan was sure had been asked repeatedly aboard the Summer Rain. “Admiral, how much longer before we will be able to perform the next cascade?”
Susan let her light play over the floor in front of them. There were occasional bits of debris in their path, but the way ahead seemed relatively clear. “Our engineering staff estimates that we should be able to leave in another three days. Hopefully that will be enough time to evade our pursuers.”
Rollins’ light bobbed as he stepped past a fallen structural beam. His breath seemed to be coming easily for the moment, but Susan was starting to wonder if the outing was a bit too eventful for the older man. “Do you believe the enemy will come before then?”
“Yes, Elder.” Susan paused as her light caught on a pile of debris that stretched completely across the corridor. Kowalski saw the obstruction and began to probe with his own light, looking for a spot where they could clamber over or around it. “The Directorate has superior resonance drives when compared to our own, and they will very likely find our specific vector soon enough. Our real hope is that they are delayed long enough that they cannot force a battle, not that they won’t enter the system before we leave.”
“I see.” Rollins was looking for a way past the obstacle as well. When Susan glanced at him, she brought her light around and was surprised to find an expression of curiosity mingled with excitement on his face. Apparently the Advisor was not as dull or unappreciative of the adventure as she had thought. “Do you think that we would be able to—ah, there’s a good spot.”
Susan looked where the man’s light was pointed and saw a slight gap in the wreckage. Before she could take a step, Chief Kowalski had moved ahead to test the passage, stomping on the debris to try the footing and cautiously examining some of it with his tools for other dangers. As they waited for the chief to give them an all clear, Rollins turned to Susan and continued.
“Do you think that while we wait for the cascade, the fleet could begin to draw resources from the surrounding area? I understand that there are several nearby asteroids that the civilian engineers are interested in—to say nothing of the crew on the Foundry, of course—and the fleet might be able to distill some measure of fuel from the gas giant and the planet’s moons.”
She frowned, considering the situation. “I don’t think that would be wise, Elder. The Directorate fleet could very well be on us before we know it. By dispersing the fleet, we increase the chance that a portion of our ships will be caught, isolated, and destroyed by a force that already substantially outnumbers us. Worse, we make it much more likely that when we can jump, we’ll be forced to leave ships behind which could not rejoin us in time.”
Rollins frowned, his expression resigned. “I was afraid that would be the answer. Unfortunately, we have an alternate proposal, though it’s one I do not entirely enjoy.” He hesitated, and while he paused, Chief Kowalski called back to them.
“We’re clear to move through! Watch your step, though. The pile may seem stable, but I don’t trust it entirely.”
Susan motioned for Rollins to proceed ahead of her, and his lips quirked in a wry smile. All the same, he accepted the courtesy with good grace, and clambered over the obstacle with her in close pursuit. When they paused for breath on the other side, Rollins continued.
“Since the mission implies a great deal of risk, some have made the suggestion that we employ the mercenaries. Their ships can accelerate much better than anything the majority of our civilian craft are capable of, and they also have superior armor and other defenses.” Despite those reasons, Rollins continued to look mildly uncomfortable.
Susan considered him for a moment before responding. “The mercenaries might also be considered expendable if we need to leave them behind, Elder. Am I correct?”
Rollins shrugged. He looked apologetic now, and Susan started to realize why the plan had not appealed to him, at the very least. “That … possibility has been discussed, Admiral, but those of us who would like to consider their change in stripes would also like to help secure their safety as well. Perhaps some of our rig patrols might be detailed to protect them in their duties.”
Chief Kowalski snorted, drawing their attention. He scratched at the back of his head. “Sorry. I try to be charitable to them, Lord knows I try, but they did try to kill us, Elder. There are plenty who might not mind it if one or two of those ships didn’t make it back to the rendezvous point on time. Are we sure we want to end up defending them?”
The suggestion Rollins had made dovetailed neatly with the plans Gabriel had suggested earlier. A plan began to form in Susan’s mind, and she smiled. “Think of it as an investment in the supplies we could have them collect, Chief Kowalski.” She glanced at the engineer. “Besides, I believe that even those poor fools might deserve a chance to … balance accounts, shall we call it?” Susan returned her attention to Rollins, who was watching her with a surprised expression. “I believe that we may find a way for the mercenaries to prove themselves, though it may indeed be dangerous. All the same, I have every intention of taking them with us when we leave this place.”
Then she turned her gaze to the darkness around the bend. “Shall we continue?”
Again they started forward, their hand lights sweeping through the gloomy interior. The light from the sections with power had now faded almost entirely, and Susan began to wonder how much farther the corridor extended. Less debris had tumbled loose ahead of them, but the area seemed much more abandoned, as if this part of the ship had not seen a human footstep in many years. Their presence disturbed little clouds of dust that shone in the spotlights, and each step forward echoed softly around them.
After two more turns in the corridor, she began to wonder if they shouldn’t turn back. The Concord and the rest of the fleet might be able to tolerate her momentary absence, but the fleet was still on alert status. It would be a disaster if the enemy arrived while she was still picking her way through the bowels of the ancient carrier, unable to reach the bridge and her command console. Yet some strong feeling urged her to continue, and Susan lead them to yet another bend in the passage ahead.
This time the corridor seemed different. The bulkhead opposite the turn was reinforced; in fact, unless Susan missed her guess, the wall was armored to resist plasma fire. It was a curious change, and she approached it warily. She ran a hand along that armored surface and was surprised to find it slightly pockmarked, as if weapons had been fired at this particular spot. Dust leaped from the wall as she brushed it, revealing that it had not been touched in many years, but the faded remnants of scorch marks were still visible in her hand light’s illumination.
Then Susan heard Chief Kowalski utter an oath so foul no Wayfarer could have invented it, and she spun around in surprise. She saw the engineer diving to one side, and followed suit immediately. They rolled to a stop around the bend in the corridor, and she could hear further blasphemies from the man as he scuttled back and away from the edge.
Elder Rollins, on the other hand, merely stood and watched them move. Susan stared at him in horror, expecting whatever disaster she had narrowly avoided to overtake him at any second.
Nothing happened.
Slowly, she rose, brushing dust from her uniform. Chief Kowalski stood as well, his face still flush from exertion. Susan summoned her best calm, silently berating herself for reacting too quickly. “Chief Kowalski—”
“It’s all right, Admiral.” Rollins motioned with his hand light toward the ceiling ahead. “I believe he was alarmed because of that.”
Restraining her anger, Susan took a look around the corner and bit back an oath of her own. Perched on the ceiling like a voracious demon was a repeating plasma cannon, of the kind that could vaporize personal body armor and might even have a chance at damaging a rig. The weapon appeared to be fully automated, with a glistening camera for its eyes and a turret to provide aim. It was the sort of internal defense that the Directorate had abandoned centuries ago, due to unreliability and occasional accidental discharges that caused far more losses than they prevented.
The power to the weapon was off, which was surely the only reason that any of them were still alive. It leered at them, unmoving, while Rollins played his light over it. The Advisor lowered his hand light and probed the darkness further ahead. A short distance away, there was another bend in the corridor. One which had, as Susan was compelled to notice, a similar set of armored bulkheads.
Worse, it seemed to be illuminated.
With an effort, Susan kept a tremor out of her voice. “Chief Kowalski, I believe I need your engineers to cut the remaining power to this section before we continue. Do you agree?”
“Hell, yes.” Kowalski glanced at the Advisor and coughed. “I mean, yes, ma’am. I understand.”
“Good.” Susan looked back at the gargoyle of the plasma weapon and felt a shiver of horror at how close things had come. If the power had been on, and she had wandered into the weapon’s line of fire …
She shook herself and turned to the others. “I believe we’ve seen enough for today, don’t you?” As they nodded, their eyes locked on the weapon as well, Susan motioned for them to follow her through the wreckage to the rest of the ship. “Then let’s get back. There’s plenty more waiting for us back there.”
Yet even as she said it, she wondered what exactly that weapon had been protecting—and what secrets the Directorate had plainly tried so hard to bury with it.