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The spook had leaned back while Raeder was speaking and he watched the
commander with hooded eyes, his chin resting lightly on one upraised fist.
No, I don t believe that we do understand each other, Commander. What you
fail to grasp is that am in
I
command of you and your people for the duration of this training mission. You
will all do as I say, and you will do it without question.
I don t think so. Raeder stood and, placing his hands wide apart on
Molochko s desk, he leaned forward. I am not prepared to agree to that. So I
will tell you how it s going to be. You will give me an agenda every day,
detailing your plans for our activities. If there is something there that I do
not like, such as Mainini s trip out the air lock, then it will be removed
from the agenda and it will not happen. In fact there will be no more planned
accidents of any description from this point on. Now, is that clear?
Molochko looked at him with contempt.
Tsk, he said. You re in no position to make demands of me, Commander. The
spook gave a quick, cold grin.
I repeat, I am in command, and you will do as I tell you. He spread his
hands and, smiling, cocked his head. You simply have no choice.
Now there s where you re wrong, Raeder said, straightening and resting his
hands on his lean hips. I do have a choice. If you will not agree to my terms
and if you do not stick to those terms I ll simply drop out of this mission.
Peter shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. Easy.
You can t do that, Molochko said, laughing. Even if you wanted to you
couldn t. You expect me to believe that you d voluntarily take a clerical job,
sitting in a cubicle day after day after day, while everybody else does the
real fighting. Not you, Raeder. Doesn t fit your profile.
I d rather sit in a cubicle than sit by and watch you maim or kill people
that I m responsible for. Raeder s voice had the ring of sincerity and his
gaze was unwavering as he stared at the spook. I d like to think that s in my
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profile.
You can t.
I can. I will.
And so will we, Sarah James voice said from the intercom, followed by a
chorus of Yeah! from the other fliers.
I m sure you know that there s a very brief window to prepare for this
mission, Peter said, suppressing a smile and trying to hide his surprise. I
doubt that General Scaragoglu would be pleased if we felt compelled to drop
out of this mission en masse because of your intolerable behavior.
No expression marred Molochko s face as he stared back at the commander. Then
he blinked.
Very well, if you re all so dead set on being melodramatic about it. I will
accede to your conditions. I d just like to go on record as saying that you
don t know what you re missing.
And I hope I never do, Peter thought.
Thank you, Mr. Molochko, he said aloud. When may I expect to see that
agenda?
It will be delivered to you at nineteen hundred, Molochko sneered. Will
that be convenient?
Absolutely. With that Peter turned, congratulating himself mentally on not
going for the runt s throat.
Not that I
think for a minute that I could get ahold of it, and left the office.
Sarah James lifted her finger from the intercom as he came through the door
and smiled at him. Christa, her hands folded on her desk, looked at him
askance, but the rest of his team grinned like demented chipmunks.
Just a sec, Raeder said. He opened the office door again and leaned in. By
the way, Mr. Molochko, these rules extend to my technical and support crew. Do
you understand?
Don t be tedious, Commander, Molochko answered in a bored voice. Of course
it s understood.
Peter closed the door quietly and turned to his command.
Well, what are we doing here? he asked. Don t we have some studying to do?
Grins and nods all around as they left the office, heading for their
computers. Raeder followed more slowly, thinking, That was too easy.
Gentlebeings be damned, an officer who doesn t stand up for his people is
unfit to
command . . . but it was still too easy.
The next day s schedule, in detail, arrived every evening after dinner.
And I haven t seen Molochko in two weeks, Peter muttered to himself, looking
over the last day s lessons. They were mostly concerned with how to camouflage
the Speeds not simply physically, but by avoiding Star Command methodologies
without losing combat performance.
So far so good . . . but I haven t seen him at all in two whole weeks.
Implying, perhaps, that my persnicketiness has denied my team the full
attention of the Lord of the Spooks?
Peter shook his head as he watched the image of the
Aardvark grow smaller on the com screen.
Doesn t feel right, he thought.
This can t be the last of it.
And with that grim thought he turned the com screen back to the report he d
been writing.
One thing was certain, Scaragoglu was going to be informed of Molochko s bad
habits. Hopefully that would mean that the gray little lunatic would be
stopped.
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CHAPTER NINE
No time this trip for contemplation of the coolness on his face as Raeder
debarked onto the
Invincible
s main deck. It was swarming overloaded chaos: two Speeds in bays meant for
one, a cursing group of men and women wrestling with a launch rail amid
skittering waldos and trails of sparks, lifters with loads of high-impact
synthetic boxes labled with arcane number-letter combinations . . . the feel
of a ship getting ready for a combat cruise.
Or as if the
Invincible is pulling away from the station unexpectedly, he thought. Odd.
There d been no indication until now that there was an emergency situation.
But then, he shrugged, emergencies are sudden and unpredictable.
All senior personnel report to the captain s briefing room, came over the
intercom. Raeder handed his duffle to
Paddy, saying, Do you mind, Chief?
Then, barely waiting for the answering nod, he jogged off to the connecting
elevator. In a case like this he was willing to bet that Captain Knott
wouldn t hold to his rule that senior officers travel on foot, where speed
seemed to be of the essence everywhere else.
Sir! Lieutenant Robbins squeezed into the elevator beside him. As I ve been
in command of Main Deck for the last two weeks I should probably come along to
brief you. Readiness status is as follows . . .
Po-faced efficiency her trademark, Raeder thought.
Odd, there s actually a human being there, if you look.
Raeder relaxed and let her talk, knowing Main Deck was in good hands with
Chief Petty Officer Jomo arap Moi.
With her thumbnail outline of what had been accomplished while he was gone,
backed up by the full report Cynthia handed him, Peter expected to ace any
questions the captain might have.
Essentially, it s we re ready.
Back when he was simply a Speed pilot, he d taken that for granted. Never
again!
Good work, Lieutenant, he commended her, meaning it. The doors opened,
revealing the corridor from the briefing room, and a few of the department
heads hurrying towards it.
Thank you, sir, Robbins said, stepping back. The doors slid shut on the
faintest of smiles and the elevator whisked her back to Main Deck, where a
thousand tasks cried out for her attention.
Peter grinned, pleased that he d made her so happy.
Boy, that girl is loosening up.
A real smile tentative enough to make the Mona Lisa look like a grinning fool,
but an actual smile. Considering what she d been like when he joined the ship
. . . of course, then she d been under suspicion of sabotage and murder.
He turned and moved towards the briefing room with determination, entering the
room on the heels of Ashly
Lurhman, chief of Nav/Astrogation. The captain was at his place, talking to
the XO. As Raeder and Lurhman slid into their seats Knott looked up.
Welcome back, Commander, he said.
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