The destroyer passed their comet by two hundred thousand kilometers. Keith felt as if he stopped breathing. The enemy ship didn’t decelerate nor did it fire its lasers at them. The destroyer kept a steady velocity as it neared the T dwarf. Then, its exhaust tail lengthened as Saint Petersburg accelerated back toward the distant star over four billion kilometers away. The other Laumer-Point was there in the inner system.
As tensions eased throughout the scout, Captain Maddox called a meeting. Dana was still laid out in medical. She was the only one to miss the get-together.
Keith sat down in the wardroom. Meta, Valerie, Sergeant Riker and the captain all entered, taking their places.
Keith kept thinking about those bottles of beautiful Scotch. They had to be in the captain’s quarters. Given Maddox’s methods and distrust, it would be difficult to break in and search—difficult and possibly dangerous. That had helped to dampen the thirst for a time. Now it had returned stronger than ever. Keith debated pleading illness, leaving the meeting and then hurrying to the man’s room.
If they found him, though, how could he live with himself? He had some of his old pride again. He’d saved the team more than once. To throw that all away— I wish I could get drunk in secret. Then I could come back better than ever. I’m due for a drink. It’s killing me to say sober.
Captain Maddox cleared his throat.
Keith decided to worry about whiskey later. He didn’t like the captain’s rigid features. Ever since Dana’s attempted mutiny, Maddox had seemed tenser than ever. Even his skin seem to stretch tighter across his cheekbones.
The waiting is getting to him just like the rest of us. I guess he’s human after all.
“It’s time to make a decision,” Maddox said. “I’m uncertain about the correct choice. The destroyer’s latest behavior troubles me.”
“This is different for you,” Valerie said.
“How so?” asked Maddox.
“You usually just snap out orders without explaining the situation.”
Keith watched Maddox. The captain’s skin tightened a little more for a moment. Then he smiled. It was an infectious thing. The man was part highhandedness and part mischievous prankster. So far, his extreme effectiveness had carried him through whatever trouble the captain managed to bring upon himself.
“Lieutenant,” Maddox said. “I have a confession to make.”
Keith felt it. Everyone perked up. What was the captain going to tell them?
“I am a spy by trade,” Maddox said. “Commanding a starship is new. I’ve been learning the craft as I go. I’ve felt lately that I should trust my crew more. That doesn’t come easily. It’s my nature and training to distrust. I must thank you for bearing with me.”
Valerie laughed. “Well, I’ll be, sir. Yes, thank you.”
Keith got it. That was the best apology any of them were going to get for some of the man’s imperious actions throughout the past months. Lieutenant Noonan had recognized it was an apology. At that moment, Keith had what he considered as an unworthy thought. Had Maddox just said those things because he meant them, or had the man said them to help put the lieutenant at ease?
“In any case,” Maddox said, “the point of the meeting is the Saint Petersburg’s latest actions. I’m referring to its orbit around the T dwarf and its slow approach and time spent at the unstable Laumer-Point. Why didn’t the destroyer jump through the point into the next system to see if we were there?”
“That would have solved our problems,” Valerie said.
“Nothing is going to be easy,” Maddox said. “We must remember that.”
“I have an idea,” Meta said, “about the destroyer, I mean.”
“We’re listening,” Maddox told her.
“They must be able to directly trail our passage,” Meta said. “Maybe they sense our exhaust particles even after we’ve passed through an area.”
“I’ve wondered the same thing,” Valerie said. “But if you’re right about that, they would have trailed us to the comet.”
“Not necessarily,” Keith said. “We used the gravity generator at the end. It doesn’t leave particles to trace.”
Valerie tapped her head with the flat of her hand. “That’s right. But I have a different theory. Instead of tracking, I wonder if they have a device that can tell if a Laumer-Point has just been opened or not.”
“Ah,” Maddox said. “That might explain their behavior. If that’s true, they’ll know we entered the star system, and that we haven’t left yet.”
“If the destroyer jumps elsewhere from the inner system tramline,” Valerie said, “that will trash the theory. But if they stay in this star system—they’ll soon be out here again hunting for us.”
Maddox scanned the others’ faces. “It’s time to bury the Geronimo.”
“The destroyer might spot us doing that,” Valerie said.
“They’re returning to the inner system,” Maddox said. “Now is the time to make a cave. Afterward, we seal up and make a run for it.”
“We’ll be crawling with the comet surrounding us,” Valerie said.
“I know,” the captain said. “But I’m convinced this is our last opportunity. If anyone has a different suggestion, now is the time to make it.”
Keith swallowed with a parched throat. He desperately wanted a drink. He wanted to make an excuse, leave and ransack the captain’s quarters. They owed him. Yet… he also wanted to stay sober. The abyss of drunkenness was real, and he wanted to stay far away from it.
Feeling worthless and dirty, the ensign raised a hand.
“Yes?” asked Maddox.
“Sir,” Keith whispered, knowing he had to confess. “I want a drink so badly I’m ready to do anything for it. I stopped taking the pills some time ago.”
The wardroom turned silent.
Maddox eyed him. Keith hated the look. He felt like dirt, knowing he’d let them down. Finally, the captain stood. “Come with me, Ensign.”
Feeling like a whipped cur, with his gaze downcast, Keith followed the captain. The man headed straight for his quarters. Shuffling his feet, Keith entered the Spartan room.
Maddox went to a drawer and pulled it open. He picked up a bottle of Scotch, pried out the cork and brought it to a small table. With a clunk, Maddox set the bottle onto the surface.
“Come here, Ensign, have a drink, if you wish.”
Keith swallowed and shuffled nearer. The desire for drink pulsated through him. Why was the captain doing this? Did Maddox wish to humiliate him even more? Did it matter why the man did what he did? Keith reached for the bottle, expecting Maddox to swat his hand away. The captain did no such thing. The man watched coldly.
Trembling with desire, raising the bottle to his lips, Keith could smell the beautiful whiskey. He expected a last warning. It never came.
With a cry of horror, Keith lifted the bottle above his head and hurled it down. The thing smashed against the deck. Glass flew everywhere and Scotch rained.
“No,” Keith said, hanging his head. “I can’t drink. I want to, sir. You have no idea how much. But I can’t let any of you down.”
When no words came, Keith looked up. Maddox still watched him, but it was no longer with cold indifference. The captain put a hand on Keith’s shoulder and patted it twice.
“I’m proud of you, Ensign. Now tell me. What should I do with the other bottles?”
“Pour them down the disposal unit, sir,” Keith said in a thick voice. “Please, get rid of them. I-I want to remain on your team.”
Maddox smiled with approval in his eyes. “Come,” he said. “Let’s finish our briefing. With a man like you in my crew, we’re either going to beat the New Men, or they’re going to know they’ve been in the fight of their lives.”