"Yes, Sir. May I ask one more question?"
"Go ahead."
"Will the Ambassador and his contingent be in danger?"
Captain Boniece smiled. "John Hill thought you might ask. He said to tell you that arrangements for their safety had been made. You may make your report on the situation aboard Aaron's Rod without concern for them."
"Thank you, Sir."
"A reminder, Mr. Winton. The Sisterhood of Barbara is desperate. Captain Judith has openly admitted that they killed the smugglers they found aboard Aaron's Rod lest the Sisters be stopped in achieving their Exodus. John Hill reports that at least one dead man was found at the Templeton estate. Do not underestimate them. They may be lower tech than we are, but you can die from a knife wound as easily as from a pulser."
"Or from a punch in the kidney. Yes, Sir. I won't forget, and I won't let my crew forget."
"You are the senior officer, Mr. Winton. Don't forget that."
Michael hadn't, not for a moment. However, he wasn't about to act like some tin-plate godlet and forget that pinnace crew had all seen more action than he had.
"All right," he said, signing off and turning to his crew. "Captain Boniece has sent us transcripts. Let's review them while we approach. Then I'll give you a crash course in Masadan etiquette."
By the time the pinnace was easing into Aaron's Rod's aft cargo bay, Michael had had numerous opportunities to be grateful for Lawler's rambling discourses on Masadan culture, and even more for John Hill's unobtrusive competence.
"These women," he concluded, "are going to expect us to lord over them. We won't do that, but let's not err in the direction of self-abasement. That would just confuse them."
"We'll follow your lead, Sir," Chief Petty Officer Keane Lorne, the pilot, said without looking up from his controls. He was busy gentling the pinnace into the gaping cargo hatch without the assistance of the boat bay tractors that would normally have handled a final approach. "Will they even want us all to leave the pinnace?"
"I don't know," Michael admitted. "Let's let them issue the invitations."
The pinnace came to an easy halt alongside Firebird's shuttle.
When external readouts confirmed atmosphere and pressure had been reestablished, Michael walked to the hatch. He wore his vac suit, but carried his helmet in the crook of his left elbow, wanting to show both his face and a level of trust.
"I'll go first," he said, repeating earlier orders. "Follow on my command."
"Right, Mr. Winton," Chief Lorne replied for them all. "Luck."
Michael stepped out and trotted down the steps to stand on the deck. As he did so, the hatch into the cargo bay opened, admitting several figures, all, like him, wearing vac suits. Several of these women were quite obviously armed, but they kept their weapons at rest. Their leader, a broad-figured, grey-haired woman, carried no weapons and stepped ahead of them to greet him.
"I am Dinah," she said. "I believe I am the equivalent of executive officer. I am also one of those who established the Sisterhood of Barbara. What do you need to see to confirm our account of our actions?"
Michael was already convinced, but he had his orders from Captain Boniece. After all, unlike the Masadans, the Silesians did not sequester their women. It was possible that the hijackers were female Silesians masquerading as Masadan escapees. That seemed like a dreadful lot of trouble to go to just to take one armed, low-tech merchie, but Captain Boniece was putting his neck on the line in being willing to help Captain Judith and her crew. He had to be able to prove before a board of inquiry that he'd confirmed their need. Getting that confirmation was Michael's job.
"I need to see your passengers. Captain Judith spoke as if a large group is partaking in your Exodus."
He knew from the update from John Hill that both women and children were now being reported missing on Masada, but he didn't want to show his hand.
"This can be done," Dinah replied.
"I would like to speak with the surviving Silesian smuggler."
"This also can be arranged."
"I would also like to speak with Captain Judith."
"This, also, can be permitted."
"My crew," Michael said. "Would you like them to come with me or to remain here?"
Dinah's lips twitched in a tight smile.
"I care little, but some of my Sisters would feel safer if they remained here. Perhaps they can inspect the Silesian craft?"
"That will work," Michael agreed. "Let me introduce you."
He did so, and was pleased that the crewmen handled themselves well. They had left their weapons aboard, but each carried a com unit so compact it was unlikely the Sisters would even recognize it. He would know if anything happened to them.
"Commander Dinah," Michael said, "where would you have us start?"
"The Silesian smuggler is near here," she said. "Then we will go where you may observe the Sisters."
The Silesian smuggler was only too glad to confirm what had happened. In fact, he'd been locked up, in terror for his life, for long enough that Michael didn't even have to tell him that Firebird had abandoned him to get him to tell everything—right up to and including admitting that they had been smuggling into the Endicott System for several years.
Michael promised that he would do what he could to get the Silesian repatriated, then followed Dinah toward a lift. Several of the armed women paced them, but as Michael offered nothing but courtesy, they had marginally relaxed.
"All the Sisters are not gathered in one place," Dinah explained. "About a third of our number are assigned to various stations."
Michael did a quick estimate.
"You're rather under-strength," he said.
"We are," Dinah retorted, "remarkable for what we have done. Do you realize that most Masadan women cannot read or do mathematics more complex than what can be counted off on fingers? That we managed this many Sisters who can at least ask the computer for assistance and understand what it tells them strikes me as remarkable."
"I apologize," Michael said, appalled at what he was learning. "How did you manage this much?"
"Judith was a great help," Dinah said. "She has actually been into space repeatedly."
"The rest of you haven't?"
"Only a few," came the placid reply. "I myself have not been for twenty years. Some of our Sisters were . . . unable to join us." Her face tightened briefly, but then she drew a deep breath and continued. "Fortunately, none of them were among our department heads."
"Right."
They progressed to what Michael guessed were Aaron's Rod's common areas: dormitories, cafeteria, lounge. He was introduced to someone named Naomi who in turn introduced him to some of the women and children packed into these spaces.
"The ones experiencing the worst panic are in sickbay," Naomi said with a levelness that did not disguise her deep concern. "Happily, Elder Templeton did not stint on tranquilizers."
"Life support?" Michael asked Dinah when they had returned to the lift.
"In good shape," Dinah said. "I always made certain Ephraim took good care of such things. He was careful, too. A privateer cannot always go to the nearest port."
"What about facilities for all those people if the ship has to fight?" he asked as levelly as he could, hating the image of what a direct hit on one of those crowded cabins would do.
"We brought materials aboard," Dinah said, "but it is a weakness."
"I see." Michael looked around for several more seconds, then turned back to Dinah. "And Engineering?" he asked.
He had kept his tone as inflectionless as possible, but Dinah smiled grimly.