“Lieutenant Abigail Hearns, Grayson Space Navy,” the brunette said in a pleasantly throaty contralto. MacGeechan’s eyebrows rose, and she smiled. “We’re Manticoran allies. Don’t worry about it,” she advised him.
“Whatever you say, Lieutenant,” MacGeechan said. “Lieutenant Eardsidh MacGeechan, Saltash Space Service.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Hearns extended her hand and gripped his firmly. “This is Lieutenant Gutierrez, Owens Steadholder’s Guard.” MacGeechan felt his eyebrows twitch again, and she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she repeated.
“Uh, yes, Ma’am.” MacGeechan wasn’t certain she was senior to him, but he suspected she was, despite her apparent youth. It was always a bit difficult to estimate someone’s calendar age without knowing which generation of prolong he’d received, but this Lieutenant Hearns exuded a quiet aura of competence that spoke of a lot more experience than someone as youthful looking as her ought to have.
“I suppose we should go ahead and get ourselves organized, don’t you think, Mateo?” she said, smiling up at the towering lieutenant, and he nodded.
“I’ll get right on that…My Lady.”
Hearns’ eyes flickered as if in amusement at some private joke, but she only nodded, and MacGeechan watched her watching Gutierrez as he began briskly and competently sorting out the rest of her boarding party. Then the Saltashan frowned as the pinnaces quietly unlocked from the buffers on the far side of the bay’s armorplast. He started to say something about it, then changed his mind as he saw them back out of the bay on reaction thrusters, alter heading, and drift off in the direction of Victor Seven. Surely they weren’t going to—?
His thought trailed away as he remembered what had happened to Vice Admiral Dubroskaya. Under the circumstances, it was probably just as well not to invest too much confidence in what these people weren’t going to do.
He considered that for a moment or two, and then, ever so slightly, he began to smile. If they hadn’t been gendarme pricks, he might almost have felt sorry for Major Pole’s troopers, and in the meantime…
Chapter Fifteen
“Excuse me, Lieutenant Hearns.”
Abigail turned and raised an eyebrow at Lieutenant MacGeechan. The Saltash Space Service officer gave her an apologetic look that seemed to have an odd, almost gleeful edge to it, and extended a tablet display.
“I’m afraid it turns out we’re even more shorthanded than we thought we were, given the nature of the current situation,” MacGeechan continued, “and Commander MacWilliams needs me back in her command center. Since that means I won’t be able to personally guide you to Major Pole after all, Captain MacNaughtan asked me to give you this. I know it’s not as good as having an actual guide, but I hope it’ll be good enough.”
Abigail started a sharp retort but stopped herself. If MacGeechan really did have orders to stay out from between the gendarmes and her people, her yelling at him wasn’t going to change anything. Besides, she couldn’t blame him—or any of the other Saltashans—for wanting to keep as much distance as possible between themselves and anything Frontier Security could construe as collaboration with Manticore.
She took the tablet, but MacGeechan didn’t let go of it immediately. Instead, he hung on and looked across it at her.
“As I say, Ma’am, it’s not as good as having an actual guide, but Captain MacNaughtan said to tell you he hoped it would help.”
There was a strange emphasis on the last few words, and Abigail’s eyes narrowed. Then they dropped to the tablet and widened, instead.
“I can appreciate your manpower difficulties, Lieutenant MacGeechan,” she said after a moment. “And under the circumstances, we won’t detain you any longer. Please pass my compliments to Captain MacNaughtan.”
“Of course, Ma’am.”
McGeechan released his grip, came briefly to attention, and saluted. Abigail returned the courtesy and watched the Saltashan officer step back a half-pace, turn, and stride briskly away without so much as a backward glance.
“Excuse me, My Lady, but wasn’t that supposed to be our guide?” a deep voice rumbled behind her, and she turned.
“That was what I expected, yes, Mateo,” she agreed calmly. “It seems there’s been a change in plans, however. Captain MacNaughtan and Commander MacWilliams need Lieutenant MacGeechan elsewhere.”
“And we’re just supposed to go waltzing through this space station all on our own, are we?” Lieutenant Gutierrez sounded a tad skeptical, and the look he bestowed upon Lieutenant Hearns was remarkably similar to the looks certain of her tutors had given her back on Grayson. Usually immediately after something expensive had gotten mysteriously broken.
“I’m afraid so,” she sighed. “The best they could do for us was this.”
She held up the tablet, and Gutierrez’ eyebrows rose.
“Is that really—?” he began, then shut his mouth tightly. He hated people who asked obvious questions.
“Yes, it is.” Abigail smiled thinly. “Changes things just a little, doesn’t it?”
“That’s one way to put it, Ma’am,” Gutierrez acknowledged, still gazing at the tablet.
Its display showed a position icon to indicate their own location here in the docking bay, but that was about its only resemblance to the standard electronic deck guide he’d expected to see. A standard guide would have shown them where they were and highlighted a route to their intended destination. The purely schematic layout would have told them when and where to turn, what lifts they needed to take, and what decks they needed to cross to get to Victor Seven. Of course, Lieutenant MacGeechan would have been a better—and, under the circumstances, a more reassuring guide—and it wouldn’t have shown any details aside from their direct route, but it would have sufficed.
What Abigail Hearns actually held, however, was a damage control guide from Shona Station’s engineering department. True, it would guide them to Victor Seven. But it was intended to get emergency repair crews anywhere they had to go under any conditions. Instead of showing a simple, highlighted route to Victor Seven, it showed engineering access ways, ventilation conduits, plumbing, blast doors, emergency bypass routes, circuitry runs…and the exact location of the gendarmerie brig in which the Manticoran spacers were confined.
“Pity there wasn’t time for them to get you a standard deck guide, My Lady,” Abigail’s personal armsman continued. “I guess we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.”
* * *
“Well, what do you think of Abigail’s brainstorm?” Namoi Kaplin asked Alvin Tallman, and her XO laughed. There wasn’t a lot of humor in that laugh. In fact, Kaplan could hear the echo of her own bared fangs.
“I like it, Skipper,” Tallman replied over her earbug from his station in AuxCon. “There’s a reason she decided to strike for the tactical track.”
“Agreed.” Kaplan nodded, but then her expression turned serious. “On the other hand, I think she’s right about us owing MacNaughtan a little cover.”
“I agree. Not that I think he’s doing it just out of the goodness of his heart, you understand, Ma’am. Looks to me like these Saltashans have a few bones of their own to pick with the Sollies.”
“Who doesn’t?” Kaplan asked bleakly.
“Only people who’ve never met them,” Tallam replied. “Returning to the matter in hand, though, how’s O’Reilly doing on providing that cover?”