Part 59 (1/2)

94.

McCaffreg and Moon

95.

tration to Sa.s.sinak herself. When he thought of it, her actions were entirely probable. He could have kicked himself for not realizing that she would react quickly and strongly to any perceived threat. She had never liked having him aboard; she had never really trusted him. So his interception of her cla.s.sified messages, once she found out, would naturally result in some action. Her history suggested a genius for quick response, for instantly recognizing danger and reacting effectively in novel ways.

And so he was here, out of communication until the escort reached its destination. No way to check the validity of his orders (though he was quite sure now where they had come from) and no way to tell anyone what he'd found out. It occurred to him then, and only then, that Sa.s.sinak might have planned even more than getting him off her s.h.i.+p before he could ”do something.” Perhaps she had other plans. Perhaps she was not going to take the Zaid-Dayan tamely into Federation Central s.p.a.ce, with all its weaponry disabled and all its shuttles locked down.

For a long moment he fought off panic. She might do ant/thing. Then he settled again. The woman was brilliant, not crazy: aggressive in defending her own, responsive to danger, but not disloyal to Fleet or Federation, not likely to do anything stupid, like bombing FedCentral. He hoped.

”Panis, take the helm.” Ollery pushed himself back, gave Dupaynil a challenging glance, and stretched.

”Sir.” Panis, the Executive Officer, had slid forward to the main control panel. He, too, glanced at Dupaynil before looking back at the screen.

”I'm going on a round,” Ollery said. ”Want to come along, Major?” A round of inspection, through all those long access tubes.

Dupaynil shook his head. ”Not this time, thanks. Ill just...” What? he wondered. There was nothing to do on the tiny bridge but stare at the back of Panis's head or the side of the Weapons Control master mate's thick neck. A swingaway facescreen hid his face as he tinkered delicately with something in the weapons sys- tems. At least, that's what Dupaynil a.s.sumed he was doing with a tiny joystick and something that looked like a silver toothpick. Maybe he was playing a game.

”You'll get tired of it,” warned Ollery. Then he was gone, easing through the narrow hatch.

A lengthy silence, in which Dupaynil noted the scufimarks on the decking by the captain's seat, the faded blue covers of the Fleet manuals racked for reference below the Exec's workstation. Finally Jig Panis looked over his shoulder and gave Dupaynil a shy smile. ”The Captain's ticked,” he said softly. ”We got into the supply station a day early.”

”Ollery reporting: Environmental, section 43, number-two scrubber's up a half-degree.”

”Logged, sir.” Panis entered the report, thumbed a control, and sent ”Spec Zigran” off to check on the errant scrubber. Then he turned back to Dupaynil.

”We'd had a long run without liberty,” he said. ”The ;,. Captain said we'd have a couple of days off-schedule, c sort of rest up and then get ready for inspection.”

Dupaynil nodded. ”So . . . my orders upset your !; party-time, eh?”

”Yes. Playtak was supposed to be in at the same ; time.”

With a loud click, the Weapons Control mate flicked .

1' tile facescreen back into place. Dupaynil caught the .

”/* look he gave the young officer; he had seen senior .

noncoms dispense that ”You talk too much!” warning glance at every rank up to admiral.

Panis turned red, and fbcussed on his board. Dupaynil ; asked no more; he'd heard enough to know why Ollery : was hostile. Presumably Playtak's captain was a friend ^; of Ollery's and they'd agreed to meet at the supply j; station and celebrate. Quite against regulations, because '); he had no doubt that they had stretched their orders to VJ make that overlap. It might be innocent, just friends.h.i.+p, '.;; or it might have been more. Smuggling, spying, who knows : what? And he had been dumped into the middle of it, . forcing them to leave ahead of schedule. ^ ”Too bad,” he said casually. ”It certainly wasn't my %”. idea. But Fleet's Fleet and orders are orders.”

96.

”Right, sir.” Panis did not look up. Dupaynil looked over at the Weapons Control mate whose lowering expression did not ease although it was not overtly hostile.

”You're Fleet Security, sir?” asked the mate.

”That's right. Major Dupaynil.”

”And we're taking you into Seti s.p.a.ce?”

”Right.” He wondered who'd told the man that. Ollery had had to know, but hadn't he realized those orders were secret? Of course they weren't really secret, since they were faked orders, but ... He pushed that away. It was too complicated to think about now.

”Huh. Nasty critters.” The mate put the toothpick-like tool he'd been using into a toolcase, and settled back in his seat. ”Always get the feeling they're hoping for trouble.”

Dupaynil had the same feeling about the mate. Those scarred knuckles had broken more than a few teeth, he was sure. ”I was there with a diplomatic team once,” he said. ”I suppose that's why they're sending me.”

”Yeah. Well, don't let the toads sit on you.” The mate lumbered up, and with a casual wave at the Exec, left the bridge.

Dupaynil looked after him, a little startled. He had not considered Sa.s.sinak strict on etiquette, but no one would have left her bridge without a proper salute to the officer in charge, and permission to withdraw. Of course, this was a smaller s.h.i.+p than he'd ever been on. Was it healthy to have such a casual relations.h.i.+p?

Then the term ”toads” which wasn't at all an accurate description of the Seti, but conveyed the kind of racial contempt that put Dupaynil on alert. Everyone knew the Federation combined races and cultures that preferred separation, that some hardly-remembered force had compelled the Seti and humans both to sign agreements against aggression. And, for the most part, abide by them. As professional keepers of this fragile peace, Fleet personnel were expected to have a more dispa.s.sionate view. Besides, he always thought of the Seti as ”lizards.”

” 'Scuse me, sir.” That was another crewman, squeezing past him to get to a control panel on his left.

97.

Dupaynil felt very much in the way, and very much unwanted. Blast Sa.s.sinak! The woman might at least have dumped him onto something comfortable. He looked over at Panis who was determinedly not looking at him. If he remembered correctly, the shortest route to Seti s.p.a.ce was going to take weeks and he could not endure this kind of thing for weeks.