shifts, but everything seemed tedious. It just felt wrong, empty motions with nothing to push against.
On the bridge, he asked Petoskey if it was still necessary to have a guard.
“The attack’s still unsolved,” Petoskey said. “Until Simco brings me the manor woman-who did it, I want you protected.”
Max had the sinking feeling that might be for the rest of the voyage. “How are the repairs going?”
“Chevrier replaced all the chips in the dead array with new ones, but something failed when he tested it. He has an idea for rebuilding the chips with some kind of silicon alloy crystal. Says he can grow it as long as we stay weightless. Some other kind of old tech. Inorganic. He tried to explain it to me, but he’s the only one who really understands it.”
“Can we wait that long?”
“We can’t power up to jump as long as those Outback ships are in the vicinity. They’d see us-and the wormhole-in a microsecond. So far they still haven’t detected our buoy. Or if they have, they just took it for a pulsar signal.” Which was the idea, after all. Petoskey tugged hard at his beard. There were dark stains of sleeplessness under his eyes. “Don’t you have some work to do, some reports to write?”
He meant it as a dismissal. Max was willing to be dismissed. He was still no closer to catching his traitor, and his luck couldn’t have been more execrable.
He went to the ship’s library to read. Rambaud, his trooper again this shift, had no interest in reading or studying vids of any kind. He writhed in almost open pain as Max made it clear that he intended to stay at a desk alone for several hours. Max decided that it wouldn’t be murder if he bored Simco’s men to death.
He sat there, scanning Pier’s monograph on the Adarean war, skimming through the casualty lists in the appendixes, thinking about some of the worst battles, early on, and the consequences of war, when a voice intruded on his contemplations.
“… bored as hell down here. Uh-huh. Wargames. That sounds interesting. Can you understand that Outback lingo?”
Rambaud was whispering on the comlink to his compatriot in charge of Reedy. Max let the conversation turn to complaints about the exercise regimen and weightlessness before he flipped off his screen and rose to go.
He headed for the intelligence radio room. The scent of Lukinov’s imported cologne drifted out the open door into the corridor. Max paused at the doorway. Inside, the trooper floated behind Lukinov and Reedy. He wore a set of earphones.
“So this is how well you keep secrets?” asked Max.
The trooper saw Max, yanked the earphones out of his ear, and handed them back to an ebullient Lukinov. “Wait until you hear this, Max!” Lukinov said.
The trooper tried to squeeze by Max without touching him. Max stayed firmly in his way, making him as uncomfortable as possible. “Rambaud,” he said to his own man, “I believe I left my palm-pad down in the library by accident. Retrieve it for me and bring it to this room immediately so I can record this conversation.”
Rambaud hesitated before answering. “Yes, sir.”
The other trooper went over Max’s head and took up station outside the door. Max kicked the door shut and latched it.
“What’s going on with the spongediver?” asked Max.
“They’re testing a new laser deflector, using it for wormhole defense.” Lukinov grinned. “Go ahead and listen.”
Max picked up the headphones and fit the wires into his ears. Pilots chattered with tactics officers, describing the kind of run they were simulating. No wonder Outback outfitted their survey ships with the newest military equipment. The blind side of a wormhole dive was probably the only place in the galaxy they could test any new weapons without being observed. “Very standard stuff here,” he said after a moment. “Is there just one channel of this?”
“Their scientists are on the other channel, the one Reedy’s monitoring. But don’t you see what an advantage this gives us if we can steal it? We can attack Adares with impunity and keep them from diving into our system.”
Max switched the channel setting to the one Reedy listened to. “Do unto others before they do unto you?”
“Exactly!” replied Lukinov.
Reedy’s eyes went wide open. She started tapping the desk to get their attention. “Sir,” she said. “There’s something you should…”
“Not right now,” said Max.
Lukinov frowned at him. “Now see here-”
“No, you see here. Has the captain been informed of this?”
“Not yet,” replied Lukinov.
“You invite some grunt in here to listen to information that will certainly be classified top secret before you notify the captain?” He sneered at Lukinov, pausing long enough to listen to the scientists talk. “You can be sure that my Department will file a record of protest on our return. In the meantime, I better go get the captain.”
Lukinov popped out of his seat. “No, I’ll do that. I was just planning to do that anyway, if you hadn’t interrupted.”
“Sir,” repeated Reedy. “Sirs.”
“Ensign,” said Max, “Shut. Up.”
The ensign nodded mutely, her eyes shaped like two satellite dishes trying to pick up a signal.
“I’m coming with you, Lukinov,” Max said.
“No, you aren’t, Lieutenant,” snapped the intelligence officer. “I’m the one man on this ship you can’t give direct orders to and don’t you forget it.”
Max saluted, a gesture sharp enough to have turned into a knife hand strike at the other man’s throat. Lukinov stormed out of the room. Max turned back to the ensign, who simply stared at him.
“They just broadcast the complete specifications,” said Reedy. “They were checking for field deformation-”
“I know that,” said Max. And then he did something he never expected to do, not on this voyage. He said aloud the secret intelligence code word for “render all assistance.” Silently, to himself, he added a prayer that it was current, and that Reedy would recognize it.
“Wh-what did you say?” she stammered.
Max repeated the code word for “render all assistance” while he pulled off his earphones and reached in his pocket for his multi-tool. His fingers found nothing, and he realized that it had been missing since his attack. “And give me a screwdriver,” he added.
Reedy handed over the tool. “But… but…”
Max ignored her. In thirty seconds, he’d disconnected the power and disassembled the outer case of the radio. “Give me the laser,” he said.
The ensign’s hands shook as she complied.
“I need two new memory chips and the spare pod.” Reedy just stared at him, uncomprehending. “Now!” spit Max, and the ensign dove for the equipment box.
Max shoved the loaded chips into his pockets and snapped the replacements into their slots as Reedy handed them over. The radio was still a mess of pieces when someone rapped on the door.
“Stall them!” hissed Max.
The rap came again and the door cracked open. Rambaud pushed his head in partway. “Here’s your palm-pad, sir.”
“I’ll take it,” said Reedy, grabbing it and shoving the door shut on him.
“Thanks!” called Max. He’d lost one of the screws, and when he looked up from the equipment to see if it was floating somewhere, he was temporarily disoriented. His stomach did a flip-flop and his head spun in a circle. “Shit!”
Rambaud pushed back on the door. “Are you safe in there, sir? I’m coming in.”
Reedy wedged herself against the wall to block the door.
Max heard a plain thump as Rambaud bounced against it. He saw the screw floating near his ankles and scooped it up. He fixed the cover and powered the machine up again. Reedy grunted as the door pushed against her, cracking open. “I’m fine,” Max said loudly.
