“You’ll be interested to hear that you’re some sort of madman or arch-villain. It seems they got hold of a garbled account of your little fracas with Lu-Jenks. There are several versions being bandied about, but the most popular says that after going insane and attacking your own Admiral, you escaped custody, vowing to destroy the Empire. Somehow, you learned about the Rekesh, and you gathered a gang of renegade outies to go get her, bring her back to the Empire, and travel from system to system-spreading plague. Another version has you headed for Prime with armed planetbusters. Still another has you plotting to turn an armed battle cruiser over to the Alliance. Lu-Jenks has been interviewed almost daily; and you can imagine what he’s saying about you.
“We denied it as long as possible, but finally had to admit to the Senate that there actually was an undercover mission to recover the Rekesh. That set off even more howls of outrage. Naturally, the newsies found out a few minutes after our ‘secret’ Senate briefing.
“We knew that endangered your safety, so the Emperor ordered the State Department to register Starhopper as a diplomatic auxiliary. At least you won’t be shot as spies. Moreover, there is one small bright spot. They don’t seem to have learned Starhopper ’s name — at least, not yet.”
Pankin sighed, and leaned forward. “So, that’s what’s been happening. Whether you’ve managed to salvage the Rekesh or not, you and your people are in very real, serious danger. As these plague stories spread through the independents, they are bound to grow more and more bizarre. I find myself hoping you contact an Empire embassy soon. Very soon. Once your ship’s name leaks, you may very well be attacked without warning as soon as you enter a system. And it will leak; too many people worked on it to keep the secret.”
The Fleet Admiral sighed again, and then hesitated. His face became sad. “I’m very sorry, Kas,” he continued. “I’m very sorry for what I’m being forced to do. It violates everything I hold dear. However, I have no choice.
“We’ve been spending nearly all of our time lately with senators, especially that weasel Ta-Lank, trying to make them understand the real situation. We have had some success, but I’m afraid it’s going to take quite some time for this thing to settle down and get out of the headlines. So, we have had to give in and deal with Ta-Lank and his cronies.
“I’m not proud of what I’ve had to agree to. And I am not happy to be dictating these orders. But concern for you and your people and, to be honest, the Emperor’s orders compel me.”
He straightened his expression still troubled. “A route has been planned for you to return to the Empire. It is quite roundabout, and it does not lead to Prime. The course is mostly through unclaimed space, and completely avoids inhabited systems. It terminates in an uninhabited system on the edge of the Empire.
“The Senate has agreed to appoint a medical committee. This will consist of a bunch of doctors in various medical and scientific specialties. They will review the work of Doctor Ro-Lecton and his staff. If, and only if, they agree there is absolutely no danger from the plague, you will be permitted to return to Prime.
“It was the best deal we could get. There was a lot of support for ordering you to an isolated system and just blowing you out of the sky.”
He shrugged. “If I were you, the question going through my mind right now would be, ‘well, you are ordering me to an isolated system. How do I know you’re not going to destroy me when I get there?’ Well, I am embarrassed to say that you don’t know it. All I can do is give you my word.”
Pankin sighed. “Six months ago, if someone had told me that one of my crews would feel threatened by their own Fleet, I’d have referred him for psychiatric evaluation.” The Fleet Admiral slumped in his chair, shaking his head. He suddenly looked very old.
After a moment, he raised his head, an agonized expression on his face. “These are orders, Kas. Whether or not you have the Rekesh, you are to follow your assigned course. It is going to take you awhile; I understand it involves over twenty jumps. Neither of your ships is to attempt to enter any inhabited system, and none of your people are to have any physical contact with anyone not presently aboard your ships.”
The Grand Admiral’s eyes narrowed. “I know you have a rather, uh, cavalier attitude toward orders. But please, don’t get imaginative, and don’t look for loopholes. Play this straight, Kas. We’re trying to save your lives.
“Yes, we’re wasting a lot of time on hysterical nonsense. But this is a situation where time is on our side, for a change. The longer we drag this out, the better the chances of the whole thing settling down and dropping out of the news. Once the newsies and some of our more hysterical senators calm down and move on to the next crisis, we can get back to normal. I hope.” With a sorrowful shake of his head, Pankin signed off.
Kas sat silent, staring at the empty screen. He marveled at his lack of emotion. Why wasn’t he furious? His personal reputation was being smeared all over the Empire and the independents. Despite what Pankin said, Kas knew that from now on, whenever his name was mentioned, it would bring visions of madness and plague to peoples’ minds. He winced as he realized it also meant he would never be able to put the Lu-Jenks incident behind him now.
Finally, he realized. Fleet people would know better. They wouldn’t be infected by the hysteria. And Fleet people were the only ones whose opinions mattered to him. He realized he didn’t really give a damn what groundhogs thought of him. Even billions of groundhogs.
He shrugged. Certainly, one day he would retire. So what? He could always change his name. Especially since it wasn’t really his in the first place.
He waved a hand dismissively. He had no right to sit here worrying about something as trivial as his reputation. He was responsible for the lives of more than three hundred fifty people. And most of them would not be as detached as him. They would be angry. And scared.
He keyed his intercom, and summoned To-Ling from the bridge and Ler-Traken from Starhopper. He had some decisions to make, and he would need their input.
“Well,” he said as he snapped the viewer off after playing Pankin’s message for them. “There it is. Comments and suggestions, please.”
His eyes moved from one to the other. To-Ling’s face was expressionless, stony. Ler-Traken, on the other hand, was open-mouthed in shock and dismay.
Starhopper ’s captain shook his handsome head. “I don’t believe it.”
“I do,” To-Ling put in. “We’re lucky Ta-Lank was willing to deal.”
Kas frowned. “Who is this Ta-Lank? And why does he have so much to say about it?”
To-Ling looked startled. “How could you not know Senator Ta-Lank? Besides the Emperor himself, he’s probably the most powerful man in the Empire.”
It was Kas’ turn to look surprised. “Really? I thought Grand Admiral Pankin was the next most powerful.”
She shook her head. “It’s not even a contest, sir. Pankin’s power is only military…”
“Only military?” Ler-Traken interrupted.
To-Ling looked irritated at the interruption. “Yes, only military. The Emperor could dismiss him in a microsecond, and he would have no power at all. Oh, he might be able to set off some sort of uprising in the Fleet, but I don’t doubt any insurrection he started would easily be put down.
“But Ta-Lank has real power. On second thought, I’m not too surprised you’re not familiar with the name. So many Fleet people think there’s some sort of virtue in ignoring the political realities.”
Kas flushed slightly. He had always made a point of dismissing the goings-on in the Senate as political posturing. “All right,” he grated. “Educate us.”
The small woman shrugged. “Actually,” she resumed, “Ta-Lank isn’t that well known off Prime. He is not interested in the spotlight — he’s more of a behind-the-scenes type. But he directly controls more than a third of the votes in the Senate, and through blackmail and deal making he can influence enough additional senators to make sure that anything he wants passed gets passed. And anything he doesn’t want to pass never sees the light of day. And he is utterly ruthless and conscienceless. That means that every wheeler-dealer and special interest in the Empire is willing to give him anything he wants.”
Ler-Traken was frowning. “If he’s that powerful, I’m surprised the Emperor hasn’t sent a couple of his spooks around to arrange a funeral for him.”
To-Ling shrugged again. “Rumor has it he’s tried, twice. Then Ta-Lank let him know that if anything happens to him, all the dirt and blackmail evidence he’s collected over the years will go straight to newsies all over the Empire.” She sighed. “Ta-Lank probably has dirt on enough senators to bring down the entire government. So, I understand they have a sort of armed truce.” She sighed and shook her head. “It must have cost the Emperor a lot
