“Well, someone must’ve noticed that . . .”
“Yes, but did they apply it?” Esmay handed over the relevant bits. “If the Benignity does whatever it did to that ship to others of the same size, we’ve got a new element to worry about.”
“Maybe. But if they could, they’d have used it at Xavier, wouldn’t they?”
“I wish I knew what it was . . . it matters if it was some one-time thing that depended on some of our architecture—”
“One really good scan tech? Weapons tech?”
“Maybe,” Esmay said again. “But if they’ve got one that good they might have more. I think we ought to make this one of the main points of our presentation.”
“I’m not going to argue with the hero of Xavier and the Kos,” Vericour said, with a grin that took the sting out of it. “It’s not something I would have thought of. Maybe you are that smart.”
“I do my best,” Esmay said, grinning back. He wasn’t Barin, but he was comfortable.
She was still thinking that when Vericour reached out and touched her hair. Esmay managed not to flinch, but she moved smoothly away.
“Sorry,” he said. “I just . . . thought you might like it.”
So Barin wasn’t the only man who could find her attractive . . . she didn’t know whether she found that reassuring or just bothersome. At least she knew for sure that another lieutenant was within the limits allowed by regulations and the ethics class.
“I’m . . . not in the mood,” she said. She couldn’t explain about Barin, or claim a preexisting relationship, not yet.
“If you ever are in the mood, just let me know,” Vericour said. “I’ll even swear on whatever you like that it’s not just hero worship.”
She chuckled, surprising herself. “I didn’t think it was,” she said.
He grinned back, but made no more advances. That’s what the manuals all said was supposed to happen, but she’d never had to deal with it before. She felt a small burst of surprise that the manuals were right.
A few days later, their presentation gained the highest rating in the class. Afterwards Vericour suggested a celebratory drink in Q-town, the little cluster of commercial establishments just outside the gates. “You’re certainly good luck,” he said. “I hope we’re on the same team for E and E. They say no one ever makes it all the way through the field exercise without getting captured, but you might be able to pull it off.”
“I doubt it,” Esmay said. “The instructors know the terrain backwards and forwards. Just like natives.”
“Well—it would be more fun with you, anyway. So—will you come?”
“No—remember I’m taking extra classes, and I have a final in Admin Procedures tomorrow.”
“My sympathies.” Vericour bowed elaborately, and Esmay laughed. So he was no Barin—he was still fun to be around. She went back to her quarters and tore into the Admin Procedures material until long past her usual bedtime.
The next morning, she was surprised to see Brun Meager lining up for PT with the others. During the run, she moved up beside Esmay.
“Hi—I hardly ever see you.” She didn’t sound out of breath at all.
“I’ve got a heavy schedule,” Esmay said. Unlike many, she actually enjoyed the run, but one of the things she enjoyed about it was sinking into a meditative state.
“So I noticed. This was the only thing I could take right now where we’d overlap, but I’m going to be in your Escape and Evasion course.”
“You?” Esmay glanced at her. Brun was taller; she loped along as if she could run forever, like one of the endurance horses.
“Well—if people are out to get me, I need to learn to get away.”
“I suppose.” She could also learn to let her security personnel guard her the way they were supposed to, and quit putting herself into dangerous situations. But that was for someone else to say.
“And I wanted to ask you—if we get a choice—I’d like to be on your team.”
Great. Just what she needed, a spoiled rich girl on her team. Esmay glanced at her again, and scolded herself. Brun might be spoiled but she was willing to work and learn—not every rich girl would pile out of bed at that hour to do PT with a lot of grumpy soldiers. Admiral Serrano had sponsored her; that had to be worth something. Rumor had it she didn’t ask any favors in her classes, either.
“I don’t know if we get a choice,” Esmay said. “But if it’s possible, it’s all right with me.”
“If you ever wanted, we could go into Q-town together,” Brun said, an almost wistful note in her voice.
“No time,” Esmay said. Q-town held no attraction for her; if she wouldn’t go with Vericour, she certainly wasn’t going with a civilian.
“You don’t ever go?”
Esmay shrugged. “No—they have good steaks in the mess.”
“Um. And good steaks constitute your definition of entertainment?” That had a slight edge to it.
“No—but I wouldn’t expect you to find much entertainment there either.”
“Well . . . I like a drink with friends now and then,” Brun said. “Or a meal outside, just because it is outside.” They ran on a ways, and then she said. “That redheaded lieutenant—Vericour. He’s a friend of yours?”
“We were classmates,” Esmay said. “And we’ve been assigned some problems together.”
“But you like him?”
“He’s nice,” Esmay said. She couldn’t figure out what Brun was driving at. Did she want an introduction? “He goes to Q-town fairly often.”
“I know,” Brun said. “I’ve seen him there with friends—I wondered why you didn’t go.”
“Schedule.” It was harder to talk when she was used to solitude in the mornings. “I’ve got a final this morning,” she said, hoping Brun would take the hint.
“What in?” Brun asked. As if she were really interested, which seemed unlikely.
“Administrative Procedures,” Esmay said.
“Sounds dull,” Brun said. “But I guess I should let you review it in your head.”
That would have been nice, but they were almost back to the starting point. Esmay was glad she’d spent the extra hours the night before.
“There’s going to be an ensign in our class,” Vericour said, as they headed toward the first of the Escape and Evasion classes.
“An ensign?” Esmay hoped her face didn’t reveal anything. Barin had left a message saying he was down, but she hadn’t seen him yet; she had back-to-back classes. “So?”
“Well . . . this is a bit upper-level for an ensign, don’t you think? But I hear he’s a Serrano; that probably explains it.”
“Says he was on Koskiusko,” Vericour said. Esmay finally realized he was fishing, and what he was fishing for. She wanted to strangle him.
“Let me see,” she said, and stopped at the next dataport to suck the class list. “Oh . . . yes. Barin Serrano. I know him.” She hoped that was sufficiently casual. Her eye ran on down the list and got snagged on Brunhilde Meager. She had hoped someone would talk the girl out of this; the class was known to be dangerous, but there she was.
“And . . . ?”
She gave Vericour a glance that moved him back a half step. Good. “And he’s a fine junior officer—what more do you want?”
“Was he on your crew on the Bloodhorde ship?”
“No.” And she was not going to tell Barin’s secrets, either; Vericour could find out for himself.
In the classroom, she saw Brun first; the tall blonde was leaning on a desk, surrounded by male officers, while her bodyguards stood by the wall, looking as blank as robots. She had, Esmay had to admit, an infectious laugh and a smile that lit up the room. Esmay moved to a seat midway up on the left side, and then spotted Barin, front row right, already seated and looking compact and composed.
Should she go up there? But she was already in her seat, and Vericour was in the next . . . it would be obvious if she moved. Barin turned, as if her glance were a warm hand on his neck, and spotted her. He smiled, nodded; she nodded in return. Enough for now; they could talk later. Although . . . certain paragraphs in the professional ethics lectures came back to her. They would have to be careful. They were not presently in the same chain of command, but she was senior enough that the relationship would be called “not recommended.”