“I hear you’ve improved your defences. Your shields can withstand an Andromedan cruiser.”
“Yes, sir.” It was something he should have been proud of. At the moment, that was the last thing he felt.
“Then you will proceed to the following destinations, pick up their ambassadors and return home immediately the quickest and safest way you know how. There will be no stops, delays or hold ups of any sort. Am I making myself clear to you?”
“Perfectly.”
“The official paperwork will be coming through shortly with all the details. And a full list of instructions so there are no misunderstandings.”
The call ended.
John’s head fell heavily against the back of his chair. It was over. His career was finished. He didn’t need the words to tell him that. He had crossed Powers once too often. Only this time it was not his fault. He had done nothing wrong – and he would do it again if he had to.
He didn’t feel like working today. It was too depressing. He looked at his watch. Even if he had enough time to go back to sleep, he knew that was impossible. He sighed heavily and dragged himself from the chair. A steaming shower only made him feel better for the few minutes he was actually under the water.
It was his earlier than usual arrival on the bridge that set the crew alert. It was still technically night shift for well over another hour. What began as depression soon melted into anger and he constantly snapped at the slightest disturbance.
At the end of shift, Humphries left a message on his console that warned of the commander’s mood. Giacomo read it as he took the helm, then quickly transferred it to the other consoles. No one was willing to look up in acknowledgement. The bridge was suddenly a quiet place. Too quiet for John’s liking.
“All right, what’s up?” John growled.
Still silence.
“Giacomo.” He pounced on the one person who couldn’t refuse to answer or lie to him.
Giacomo looked up helplessly and bit his bottom lip. He swallowed hard before answering. “We… um… know about… your message this morning,” he confessed quietly.
“Do you also know what it said?” John’s face was set, his eyes hard, demanding an answer.
“Lay off Giacomo.” McReidy turned to face John.
He couldn’t intimidate her. She was beginning to know him too well.
“Just because Powers got stuck into you, don’t think you’ve got the right to take it out on us.”
He hated it when she was right.
“You.” The word came through clenched teeth. “My office. Now!”
She obeyed. A sense of calm entered the office with her.
He was pacing. One hand at the back of his neck, the other on his hip, his forceful exhalations as telling as the words he suppressed. He’d been still long enough, sitting in his chair on the bridge and letting his anger rise as he stewed over the situation.
“What did he say?” McReidy asked in the soundproof safety of the office.
John stopped pacing and turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were soft, her stance relaxed – though he felt it was a forced relaxation. And he felt his mood bounce around the room.
His hands dropped and a long slow breath escaped.
“That I led the Andromedans to Shimodo.” He had trouble getting the words out.
“And?” A touch of anger accompanied the word.
“We’re being recalled.”
Her softness disappeared and her mood reflected his. “How on Earth would he get an idea like that? Of all the stupid things, why would he believe something like that? Hasn’t he got any common sense?”
“Not where I’m concerned.”
“How did he even know anything about it?”
“Someone filed a report.”
She scratched her head and her brow creased. “Melchior?”
John nodded. “Looks like he’ll get Kowalski after all.”
“But it’s complete rubbish.” Her hand lowered. “Tell Powers the truth.”
“Yeah, right,” John rolled his eyes. “Like he’ll believe anything I say.”
“Can’t you call in any favours?”
“I ran out a long time ago.”
“What about Drago? He knew the situation.” McReidy was clutching at straws.
“And admit I risked the entire fleet by not attacking Velos? That’d go down really well.”
She had momentarily forgotten that little fact. She was lost for words.
If he were guilty, he would have accepted it, but to be caught out by a deliberate misrepresentation of the truth… Misrepresentation nothing, it was an outright lie.
“If I’d done something wrong –”
“You did.”
“And I’d do it again but –”
“Commander.” Gillespie’s voice over the intercom interrupted them. “Message on scramblers for you.”
“I’m not in the mood,” John snapped back.
“I think you should take it,” Gillespie insisted.
John sighed. “Who’s it from?”
“Scrambled from the source. I’m not sure.” Gillespie tried to get a location. “It could be Antigua.”
“Put it through.” John resigned himself to the inevitable. He might as well get it over with.
“I’ll leave you alone,” McReidy spoke quietly.
He didn’t want to be left alone. He wanted someone on his side – someone who understood him, who could understand his reasoning, or lack of.
He slumped into his chair, the door closed behind McReidy and he switched on his console.
He recognised Captain Thorne of Antigua by his voice; a man he had never met but knew by name. He immediately recognised the craggy features of the other man as belonging to Admiral Simpson.
“Commander Madison,” Thorne began slowly. “I wish to advise you that this conversation never took place and I expect its contents to remain confidential. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” If John’s curiosity showed, it didn’t reflect in his voice.
Thorne turned slightly to Simpson, as though wanting to know if the admiral wished to continue himself. Simpson nodded his intention to remain silent at this stage.
“It seems that someone owes you an apology.”
John lifted one brow slightly at this confession.
“One you realise you will never get,” Thorne hurriedly added. “A report was filed, on which an admiralty decision was made. The report was since proven incorrect and has been retracted.”
“And the decision?” John ventured to ask. He looked from one man to the other for an answer.
Thorne backed off. He was out of his depth.
Simpson continued. “I witnessed the battle.”
“I didn’t know you were on Antigua, sir.” John was genuinely surprised.
“How could you?” Simpson asked a little warily. “I know what happened and I’m not about to let a man go down for something he didn’t do. Captain Thorne’s report contradicted Captain Melchior’s to such a degree that Admiral Powers asked for my version. By this time, your future was well and truly decided. Melchior’s a good captain, but he will walk all over someone to get what he wants.”
John remained silent. What could he say?
“You’ve turned yourself into quite a battleship. And a crew that’s not afraid to take chances.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Simpson was leading and John was willing to let him.
“Right now, you’re of more benefit to me and the rest of the fleet out here than… anywhere else.”
“What am I supposed to do, sir?”
“Ben Powers is a fair man. He can’t change his decision without losing face. But he can delay it.” Simpson was hatching his own plan. “Pick up the ambassadors and bring them in without incident, and we’ll see if we can come to some sort of arrangement.”
Simpson may have called it an arrangement. John saw it as an ultimatum. Either way, it didn’t matter. He would have no
say in it. He couldn’t possibly imagine what Simpson was planning. He had been treading on thin ice since Emperor Komodo had quashed his court martial, knowing full well that Admiral Powers would carry out his threats of retribution at the first opportunity.
Anticipating this outcome, Powers had acted too quickly. Being forced to back down once was bad enough. He would not lose face and do it a second time.
The transmission ended.
John stared at the console; the light indicating his orders were waiting.
He opened them. Full instructions – he skipped over that bit. Destinations… Aran – they were heading there – and half a dozen beyond. Then they looped back to familiar territory and worlds they’d dealt with. He couldn’t see any issues with any of them until… Lushon – he cringed at that one. This was not going to be a pleasant trip back.
Pick up – the words stuck in his head. Was there a reasoning? He went back to page one and began reading. Nothing obvious in what was stated, but all these worlds were now behind the border. They’d treatied with some; hadn’t made it to others. He could only assume the worlds were in imminent danger of falling. The grapevine was extremely slow. Distances, knowledge and resources were running thin. Any efforts to shore up a working alliance were falling behind due to the speed and efficiency of invasion.
It was impossible to know. Command worked on strategies from the safety of Earth.
Politics! John leaned back in his chair and pushed away from the desk. His feet rose to the desk and he closed his eyes and let it all ramble around in his head. He could come up with a hundred theories and be wrong. And the correct theory could be shattered by the next battle.
It was a relieved John who returned to the bridge. McReidy watched him for a sign of what had happened. The light had returned to his eyes and the hint of a smile on his mouth told her he hadn’t given up on himself.
“Commander?” she hinted.
“Reprieve,” he answered as he took his chair. He couldn’t tell her anything else even if he wanted to. The one word was enough.
She turned back to her console.
“We have some ambassadors to pick up,” John continued. “What’s our accommodation like?”
Shrugs all round told him no one really knew.
“Full up,” Giacomo guessed.
“Then we’re going to have to double up. Giacomo, organise something. McReidy, take care of the girls. Use my office. The numbers and requirements are in the system.”
Giacomo mumbled something under his breath. On calculating the time it would take to reach Aran, he mumbled something else. He looked up and apologised immediately to McReidy in case she had overheard or understood.
She smiled back, then frowned, lifted a hand to her forehead and mumbled something equally offensive.
*
The rest of the morning in John’s office had Giacomo ready to tear his hair out.
“There’s going to be more of them than us,” he told McReidy, slumping against the back of his chair in front of the desk.
“I know. I read the figures,” McReidy leaned back in John’s chair.
“Ambassadors are one thing, but entourages? The admiral does know we’re a cargo ship?” He had serious doubts. “And the Fillarmars are requesting two rooms? Next they’ll want room service and breakfast in bed.”
“No one is getting more than one room.”
Giacomo stood up and headed to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to get out of here and fly this ship through an asteroid field!” The rest of his words were unintelligible.
McReidy’s mood lightened and she shook her head with amusement for a moment before the door closed behind Giacomo and her attention returned to the screen.
* * *
Even with the afternoon to think about it and the evening to tackle it again, Giacomo was having no success in his attempts to arrange quarters for the ambassadors. The men objected to being moved. Giacomo received everything from folded arms and glares to outright refusals. Every combination he tried upset someone. With Aran rapidly approaching, he was running short of time.
Mentioning it to Lorraine over dinner didn’t win him any brownie points as he received a response the equivalent of the men’s.
“Don’t you even think about putting any of them in my quarters.”
“Not my problem,” he shook his head. “McReidy’s sorting you ladies out.”
“Oh, is she now?” Lorraine leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “We’ll see about that.”
“Lorraine, please,” he pleaded. “This is driving me insane.”
She softened, leaning forward and reaching a hand to brush his cheek. “If you boys double up, we won’t have to.”
There was way more in her intent than in her words and his breath shortened.
“I’m going to see McReidy.” He was on his feet. “Catch you for coffee later?”
Lorraine nodded and smiled.
*
Giacomo stopped outside McReidy’s quarters. His head was lowered, looking again over the list, his hand half raised and about to press the beeper when the door opened.
“Giacomo.”
His head shot up.
“I was just coming to look for you.”
“I saved you the trip then,” he smiled. “Can I come in?”
“Of course you can,” she told him. “Sit down, make yourself at home… Having any luck?”
“Nope.” He shook his head as he put his list on the coffee table and took a seat. “What about you?”
She retrieved her own list, placing it next to his, and joined him on the lounge. “They are worse than you could possibly imagine.”
After dinner with Lorraine, he was well aware of that.
McReidy sparked up. “Swap? You work on my list, I’ll work on yours.”
“You can’t do any worse than me,” he conceded, reaching for her list.
McReidy grabbed a couple of pens and settled back on the lounge with his list. Soft breaths and pen scratchings filled the quiet.
Giacomo stared at the list, not wanting to make any suggestions as Lorraine’s mood was fresh in his mind. Even so, he was the first one to come up with a suggestion.
“Move Kat in with Wanda?” McReidy queried. “I don’t think so.”
“Is she still upset about Rodgers?”
“I think she still cares for him.”
“Then we better not put him and Wright in together,” Giacomo noted.
“Wanda?” McReidy asked tentatively, marking the names with an asterisk.
“I think so.” Giacomo had his suspicions, but he was not about to start any rumours.
“What about Red with Kowalski and –”
“Sam’s still cheesed off about being knocked out. I don’t suppose you and the commander would consider sharing?” No sooner were the words out than Giacomo realised how it sounded. “I didn’t mean it in that way,” he quickly apologised.
“I know what you meant,” she smiled. “I don’t mind. But you’re braver than I am if you plan on doubling him up.”
“I’ll avoid it if possible.”
She leaned over and read from his list. “All right… I’ll take Lorraine and Kat.”
Giacomo flinched.
“What?”
“Lorraine’s not happy.”
“No one is going to be happy. Put Helen and Anna in with Wanda, and Lynn with Brenda. That keeps the three nurses separated so they won’t kill each other.”
He frowned.
“Anyone you want to spend twenty four hours with? Don’t even answer that,” she warned as his smile touched his eyes.
“The numbers don’t add up.”
“It doesn’t matter how you work it, the numbers still won’t add up.”
He avoided her look. “If you need some privacy, let me know. I’m hardly here anyway.”
He looked up slowly, a light blush highlighting his dark eyes. “Are you
sure it’s all right?”
“Just keep out of my stuff and leave the place the way you found it.”
Giacomo couldn’t hide the grin that broke out. He thought it safer to change the subject completely. “You know what I’d really like to do with those ambassadors?”
“What?”
“Put them all down in one of the cargo bays together and let them sort themselves out. Although we’d have to be careful that the doors didn’t accidentally open.”
“Why, Giacomo, you’re beginning to sound like the commander.” Her mocking tone told him she knew he wasn’t serious.
An hour later, Giacomo rubbed his eyes and leaned back. He was tired. Everything was nearly sorted out and he wanted to finish it now; to get it over and done with. He covered a yawn and closed his eyes for a minute.
“Do you want to leave it till morning or should I make coffee?” McReidy asked.
“Coffee, please.” He opened his eyes and stretched, then realised he’d promised to catch up with Lorraine for coffee. He hit his communicator. “Sorry, Lorraine, I can’t make it.”
“Tomorrow,” Lorraine answered.
“Sure.” He switched off.
“Am I interrupting something?” McReidy asked.
“No,” Giacomo shook his head. “I want to get this finished now so I can sleep properly. We arrive at Aran the day after tomorrow. Everyone’s got to be moved tomorrow. I want to run this by the commander before shift in the morning.”
“Do you think he’ll disapprove?”
“I don’t need his permission. I need his authority. They won’t listen to me without it.”
McReidy nodded. She got up and put the coffee on.
Giacomo screwed up his face and rubbed his brow. The commander placed him in an unfair position. Being responsible for the duty rosters, he was always unpopular with someone. He didn’t have the seniority of rank that enabled his orders to be followed without question. He also didn’t like having to use the commander for backup.
“The day they don’t complain, you’ll wonder what’s wrong,” John had often told him.
* * *
John was awake when Giacomo dropped by his quarters next morning.
When the Dust Settled Page 35
