Booly nodded, waited for the machines to leave, and took Maylo’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey, sorry this happened to you. I know it’s too late, that I had my chance, but I wish I could have another. The fact is that I love you more than I know how to say. You’ll be fine, I feel sure of that, or I wouldn’t let you go. I guess that’s it then, have a good life, and be sure to take care of yourself.” The officer gave her hand one final squeeze, turned, and walked out into the corridor. Six was waiting by the reception desk. Booly stuck his hand out. “Thanks, Sam.”
“You’d do the same.”
“You’ll stay with her?”
“All the way.”
The words had a double meaning, and both men knew it. Booty nodded. “All right then. Godspeed.”
It was the last time they saw each other.
The watch was changing, and a long series of salutes rippled down the corridor. The admirals returned them one by one. “Damn,” Chang remarked, “my arm’s getting tired. Let’s duck into the wardroom.”
The officer was good as her word, and Tyspin followed. Though normally crowded, most of the officers not in their bunks, or about to go there, were at battle stations. A rather prolonged situation that wore on everyone’s nerves. A lieutenant shouted, “Attention on deck!” and sprang to her feet. An ensign did likewise.
“Both of you look tired,” Chang observed. “I’ll bet a nap would put you right.”
“I’m not tired,” the ensign said brightly, “I’m .. .”
“Not too bright,” the lieutenant finished for him. “Come on, I’ll find something for you to do.”
“So,” Chang said, once the hatch had closed, “where were we? Oh, that’s right, you were telling me how the entire situation is your fault.”
“It is,” Tyspin replied stubbornly. “I was the one who led the Sheen into this system. Remember?”
The other officer’s eyes appeared unnaturally bright. “Why yes, I do remember. I also remember that I’m senior to you, that I command this sector, and you have a problem with military courtesy. Or is your S2 full of shit?”
Tyspin stiffened. “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am.”
“Good,” Chang said, falling into a well worn chair.
“Now, pull that ramrod out of your ass, and let’s get real. Nobody, not the clones, not intel, not the President his worthless self knew the chip heads could follow a ship through hyperspace. Williams had an inkling of such a capability but wasn’t sure. So cut the crap. We haven’t got time for it.”
Tyspin managed a grin. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.”
“Now,” Chang continued, “tell me about the Thraki transport and what you plan to do with it.”
Tyspin frowned. “Boone ratted me out?”
Chang laughed. “No way. He’d blow himself out a lock for you. I’ve got spies—lots of them. Just one of the reasons why I pull so many gees.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, life sucks. Now spill your guts.”
Tyspin ran a hand through her hair—and sat on a couch. “You ordered the deck crew to place a tracer on Andragna’s hull.”
Chang nodded. “Of course.”
“So we know which ship he returned to.”
“Correctamundo. But so what?”
“That’s where the twins will be.”
Chang shrugged. “I repeat, so what?”
