«Sorry, honey. It'll still be here when you come back. I can send you a squirt after he's gone.»
Carialle considered swiftly whether it was worth calling in a complaint to SPRIM over the Inspector General and his obsessive desire to prove her unfit for service. He was witch-hunting, of that she was sure, and she wasn't going to be the witch involved. Wasn't it bad enough that he insisted on making her relive a sixteen-year-old tragedy every time they met? One day there was going to be a big battle, but she didn't feel like taking him on yet.
Simeon was right. The CK-963 was through with decontamination and repairs. Only half a second had passed during their conversation. Simeon could hold up the IG's missive only a few minutes before the delay would cause the obstreperous Maxwell-Corey to demand an inquiry.
«Open up for me, Simeon. I've got to find Keff.»
«No problem,» the station-master said. «I know where he went.»
«Keff,» said the wall over his head. «Emergency transmission from Carialle.»
Keff tilted his head up lazily. «I'm busy, Simeon. Privacy.» Susa's hand reached up, tangled in his hair, and pulled it down again. He breathed in the young woman's scent, moved his hands in delightful counterpoint under her body, one down from the curve other shoulder, pushing the thin cloth of her ship-suit down; one upward, caressing her buttocks and delicate waist. She locked her legs with his, started her free hand toward his waistband, feeling for the fastening.
«Emergency priority transmission from Carialle,» Simeon repeated.
Reluctantly, Keff unlocked his lips from Susa's. Her eyes filled with concern, she nodded. Without moving his head, he said, «All right, Simeon. Put it through.»
«Keff,» Carialle's voice rang with agitation. «Get down here immediately. We've got to lift ship ASAP.»
«Why?» Keff asked irritably. «You couldn't have finished loading already.»
«Haven't. Can't wait. Got to go. Get here, stat!»
Sighing, Keff rolled off Susa and petulantly addressed the ceiling. «What about my shore leave? Ladylove, while I like nothing better in the galaxy than being with you ninety-nine percent of the time, there is that one percent when we poor shell-less ones need—»
Carialle cut him off. «Keff, the Inspector Generals on station.»
«What?» Keff sat up.
«He's demanding another meeting, and you know what that means. We've got to get as far away from here as we can, right away.»
Keff was already struggling back into his ship-suit. «Are we refueled? How much supplies are on board?»
Simeon's voice issued from the concealed speaker. «About a third full,» he said. «But it's all I can give you right now. I told you supplies were short. Your foods about the same.»
«We can't go far on that. About one long run, or two short ones.» Keff stood, jamming feet into boots. Susa sat up and began pulling the top of her coverall over her bare shoulders. She shot Keff a look of regret mingled with understanding.
«We'll get missing supplies elsewhere,» Carialle promised. «What's the safest vector out of here, Simeon?»
«I'll leave,» Susa said, rising from the edge of the bed. She put a delicate hand on his arm. Keff stooped down and kissed her. «The less I hear, the less I have to confess if someone asks me under oath. Safe going, you two.» She gave Keff a longing glance under her dark lashes. «Next time.»
Just like that, she was gone, no complaints, no recriminations. Keff admired her for that. As usual, Carialle was correct: a brawn's ideal playmate was another brawn. It didn't stop him feeling frustrated over his thwarted sexual encounter, but it was better to spend that energy in a useful manner. Hopping into his right boot, he hurried out into the corridor. Ahead of him, Susa headed for a lift. Keff deliberately turned around, seeking a different route to his ship.
«Keep me out of Maxwell-Corey's way, Simeon.» He ran around the curve of the station until he came to another lift. He punched the button, pacing anxiously until the doors opened.
«You're okay on that path,» the stationmaster said, his voice following Keff. The brawn stepped into the empty car, and the doors slid shut behind him. «All right, this just became an express. Brace yourself.»
«What about G sector?» Carialle was asking as Keff came aboard the CK-963. All the screens in the main cabin were full of star charts. Keff nodded Carialle's position in the main column and threw himself into his crash couch as he started going down the pre-launch list.
«Okay if you don't head toward Saffron. That's where the Fleet ships last traced Belazir's people. You don't want to meet them.»
«Fragging well right we don't.»
«What about M sector?» Keff said, peering at the chart directly in front of him. «We had good luck there last time.»
«Last time you had your clock cleaned by the Losels,» Carialle reminded him, not in too much of a hurry to tease. «You call that good luck?»
«There're still a few systems in that area we wanted to check. They fitted the profile for supporting complex lifeforms,» Keff said, unperturbed. «We would have tried MBA-487-J, except you ran short of fuel hotdogging it and we had to limp back here. Remember, Cari?»
«It could happen any time we run into bad luck,» Carialle replied, not eager to discuss her own mistakes. «We're running out of time.»
«What about vectoring up over the Central Worlds cluster? Toward galactic 'up'?»
«Maxwell-Corey's going toward DND-922-Z when he leaves here,» Simeon said.
Carialle tsk-tsked. «We can't risk having him following our scent.»
Keff stared at the overview on the tank. «How about we head out in a completely new direction? See what's out there thataway?»
«What's your advice, Simeon?» Carialle asked, locking down any loose items and sliding her airlock shut with a sharp hiss. Her gauges zoomed as she engaged her own power. Nutrients, fuel, power cells all showed less than half full. She hated lifting off under these circumstances, but she had no choice. The alternative was weeks of interrogation, and possibly being grounded—unfairly!—at the end of it.
«I've got an interesting anomaly you might investigate,» Simeon said, downloading a file to Carialle's memory. «Here's a report I received from a freighter captain who made a jump through R sector to get here. His spectroscopes picked up unusual power emanations in the vicinity of RNJ-599-B. We've no records of habitation anywhere around there. Could be interesting.»
«G-type stars,» Keff noted approvingly. «Yes, I see what he meant. Spectroanalysis, Cari?»
«All the signs are there that RNJ could have generated planets,» the brain replied. «What does Exploration say?»
«No ones done any investigation in that part of R sector yet,» Simeon said blandly, carefully emotionless.
«No one?» Carialle asked, scrolling through the files. «Hmmm! Oh, yes!»
«So we'll be the first?» Keff said, catching the excitement in Carialle's voice. The burning desire to go somewhere and see something first, before any other Central Worlder, overrode the fears of being caught by the Inspector General.
«I can't locate any reference to so much as a robot drone,» Carialle said, displaying star maps empty of neon-colored benchmarks or route vectors. Keff beamed.
«And to seek out new worlds, to boldly go . . .»
«Oh, shush,» Carialle said severely. «You just want to be the first to leave your footprints in the sand.»
«You've got twelve seconds to company,» Simeon said. «Don't tell me where you're going. What I don't know I can't lie about. Go with my blessings, and come back safely. Soon.»
«Will do,» Keff said, strapping in. «Thanks for everything, Simeon. Cari, ready to—»
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the CK-963 unlatched the docking ring and lit portside thrusters.
