“I would, Admiral.” Ferradi flushed suddenly. “I deny it absolutely, and moreover I would consider the source.” She rounded on Barin. “Ensign Serrano, Admiral, has a grudge against me . . . he thought his family position gave him a right to . . . to take liberties beyond his rank. I had to be quite firm with him and he knows I could have reported him for harrassment. He probably made up this nonsense just to get back at me—”
Barin felt the blood rushing to his head, but a stern look from Escovar kept him silent. Admiral Hornan gave a short nod in Barin’s direction, and cocked his head at Escovar.
“Well, Commander? I find the foolish behavior of a hot-blooded young man of a high-status family more likely than illegal acts by someone like Lieutenant Ferradi . . .”
“Admiral, with all due respect, that won’t do. Lieutenant Ferradi was pursuing Ensign Serrano, not the other way around. I knew it, and so did everyone else on the ship. You will find references to Lieutenant Ferradi’s behavior in her previous fitness reports; her present position in the last promotion cohort of her class reflects that behavior.”
“That’s not true!” Ferradi said. Her high color was patchy now, flushing and fading on those perfect cheekbones.
“And while her sexual proclivities would not, in themselves, be cause for disciplinary action as long as she did not interfere with anyone’s fitness for duty, her intrusion into secured databases, her altering of the data, and her lies about other officers—including Ensign Serrano—would be.”
“And you think you have proof of this?” Hornan asked. Barin watched Ferradi pale, as the change in his tone and expression got through to her. He could almost feel sympathy, because in that moment Hornan was changing sides, preparing to divest himself of an embarrassment.
“Yes. We have the records of such intrusion, from a datawand initialized for Lieutenant Ferradi, along with vid records of her using it that are contemporaneous with the intrusion and alteration.”
“I didn’t . . .” Ferradi breathed. But the admiral did not look at her now.
“How detailed are these records?”
“Extremely, Admiral. They include all the authorization codes she used to complete her intrusion, and to fake—I presume—the orders for the alterations.”
Now the admiral did look at Ferradi, and Barin hoped very much no such look would ever be turned on him. “I would have to see such proof,” he said slowly, with almost no expression. “But if you have it—”
“We do, Admiral.”
“Then Lieutenant Ferradi is, as you say, facing serious charges. Lieutenant, your datawand, if you please.”
Ferradi pulled it out slowly, and laid it on the admiral’s desk.
“And that report you were working on is—where, Lieutenant?”
“On my desk, Admiral. But the admiral knows who—”
“You will consider yourself confined to quarters, Lieutenant. You will speak to no one except the investigating officer, when such has been appointed.”
“But Admiral—it’s a plot—it’s—”
“Dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Barin shivered as she turned and passed him. He had disliked her; he had come to despise her; for what she had almost done to Esmay, he could have hated her. But he would have wished on no one the devastation he saw deep in those violet eyes.
When the door had closed, Escovar said, “Admiral—she used your access codes. I’m afraid there’s no way to keep that out of the records.”
“Well—she would, wouldn’t she, if she wanted to alter data? She’d have to have someone with enough authority.”
“Did you give her those codes?”
Hornan pulled himself up. “Commander, I may have been an idiot, but you are not the person who will handle the investigation of this matter. It goes to internal security, as you very well know. And I will answer their questions, to the best of my ability, but not yours.” He paused, then went on. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I now have to revise my opinion of Lieutenant Suiza?”
“No, Admiral, I’m not. What the admiral thinks of Lieutenant Suiza is the admiral’s business; she’s not my officer. But if the data are tainted—”
“Oh yes, oh yes.” Hornan waved a hand. “First things first. We have to inform internal security, and then Grand Admiral Savanche. He’s going to be so pleased about this! Just what he needs, something else to worry about—” He hit the comunit control so hard it double-buzzed. “Get me internal security—”
“Admiral Serrano’s going to have a clear run with the task force,” Escovar commented on the way back to Gyrfalcon.
“Why, sir?”
“Because Hornan’s not going to risk what you might say if he tries for it. Don’t play stupid, Ensign—you know as well as I do that he must have been involved at some level. For one thing Ferradi isn’t smart enough to get his codes without his help. And Pell couldn’t help her—he couldn’t remember his own codes, let alone the admiral’s. Now if that civilian—Lady Marta whatshername—can put a collar on Lord Thornbuckle, we might finally get this rescue attempt off the ground.”
“Sir.”
“It’s been a mess,” Escovar went on, lengthening his stride. “It wouldn’t have been easy anyway, but Thornbuckle’s been more hindrance than help, and Hornan has kept putting obstacles in the way—and I would never have suspected that nailing Ferradi would get rid of the other problems, too.”
Such as what to do about Esmay Suiza. Barin waited for his captain’s dismissal, then made his way to the first public com booth he could find, and looked up Esmay’s comcode. She had one now, he was glad to see.
Her voice answered, crisp and professional.
“Lieutenant—it’s Ensign Serrano. I—” How was he going to say this? “I’d like—I need—to talk to you.”
A long pause, during which he felt himself turning hot, then cold, then hot again.
“In the office, or—I mean—” Her voice had softened, and sounded almost as tentative as his.
“Anywhere. There’s something you need to know, and besides—” Besides, I love you madly was not something he could say over a public line.
“How about the base library. Ten minutes? Fifteen?”
“Fifteen; I’m just outside Gyrfalcon.”
He made it in ten, nonetheless, not realizing until he almost overran a pair of commanders strolling ahead of him just how fast he was going. Patience. Calmness. He paused in the library entrance, and didn’t see her coming in either direction. Ducked inside, and—there she was.
“Lieutenant . . .”
“Ensign.” But her eyes glowed; her whole being glowed. And there were people who had thought he might be attracted to Casea Ferradi!
“I’m so sorry—” he said, and found that his words had tangled with hers. The same words. Silently, he looked at her, and she looked back.
Waltraude Meyerson had been watching the young female officer’s lame attempt to pretend an interest in the online catalog. She was waiting for someone; it was not the first time Waltraude had seen a student hanging around waiting for another; she could not mistake it. Sure enough, a few minutes later a young male officer arrived. They spoke; they paused; they blushed and stammered. It was all very normal, but also very distracting when she was trying to correlate Professor Lemon’s data with her own for the impeccably organized report she would present in a few hours.
The librarian was, of course, nowhere to be seen; he never was at this time of day. That didn’t bother Waltraude ordinarily, since she didn’t need his help to navigate her own and Professor Lemon’s databases, but he was responsible for keeping order. Without his direction, and left to their own devices, these two would murmur sweet nothings for hours . . . she knew their type. Waltraude rose to her full height and cleared her throat. The two looked at her with the guilty expression typical of young love.