Most of the moon’s surface wascovered in debris. Roppa moved easily around, seeming to know every step. John felt like he was jumping stepping stones across a river. Spying a clearpatch of ground, he jumped down. A cloud of dust rose past his knees so thickhe couldn’t see through it.
“Don’t do that,” Roppa advised. “You’ll never find your footing.”
The dust wasn’t willing tosettle. John scrambled out of it and sat down on a rock. Roppa was alreadysitting opposite him.
“Keep an eye out for patrols. They move in quickly.”
John glanced around. All hecould see were his companions, and they weren’t looking very happy. He dreadedto think what they were talking about. “How did they know we were there?”
“By tracking your communicationsignals.”
“Are we safe here in the open?”
“They cannot track my movements.”
“Why not?” John asked in the toneof a curious child. “You must have a ship.”
“Aha, Madison!” Roppa grinned. “That would be giving you too much.”
John nodded. “And what value doyou place on those parts?”
Roppa turned serious, the grindisappeared from his face and his voice was heavy. “Food and medicalsupplies.”
“I think we can provide that.” After all, there only appeared to be a dozen or so of them.
“There is great famine on myworld. Many people die.”
John knew he had spoken toosoon. One day he would learn to keep his big mouth shut.
“I will try,” he found himselfsaying. Obviously, that day would not be today.
By the time his men returned withthe parts, Roppa had a list made out of everything he wanted. John took thelist and glanced at it as they made their way back to the others.
Red and Kowalski were riflingthrough a bag of chips, Wright was running his scanner over some huge coils ofwiring and Rodgers was checking the integrity of some of the larger pieces.
“How’s it look?” John asked.
“It’s everything we need,” Redanswered excitedly, not even looking up from the chips.
“Some of them,” Kowalski held oneup for John to see, “won’t fit. But we can tweak them.”
“All good here,” Wright said.
“A bit of work needed,” Rodgersadded, “but nothing we’re not used to.”
John went to switch on hiscommunicator. Roppa grabbed his wrist. “You can have your equipment… afteryou get what I want. You,” his eye pierced through John, “will get it. Theywill stay here… In case you change your mind.”
The Skaren’s smile didn’t hidethe implied threat.
John switched on hiscommunicator. “Bismarck, where are you?”
“We’re here,” McReidy answered.
John noted that she wasn’t givinganything away. He looked to Roppa. “Give me twenty minutes.”
The Skaren frowned.
“Steve.”
Gillespie stood up; the tensionin the Skarens increased.
John grabbed Gillespie’s arm andlifted the sleeve above his watch. “Twenty minutes,” he indicated on thewatch.
Roppa nodded. “Twenty minutes.”
He gave the rest of his crew areassuring look. Not one of them doubted he’d be back. “Bismarck, bring meup.”
*
John transported back to theship. Roppa’s list was stuck in his hand and his supply officer was stuck onthe moon. He automatically made for the bridge, criticising himself for notchecking out the moon better, for getting caught unprepared and for promisingthings he didn’t even know if he could deliver on.
“Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?”he asked himself as the bridge door opened.
“Because it’s impossible,”McReidy answered.
He thought he caught a glint of asmile in her eyes as she answered, but she turned back to her console tooquickly. What did she mean by answering it? He would deal with that later.
The bridge wasn’t where he neededto be, he realised. He had to see the doctor. “McReidy, come with me.”
Her head dropped a fraction.
“Giacomo, you’re in charge.”
As they headed toward sick bay,John tore the list in half and gave McReidy the section with non-medicalsupplies.
She stopped in her tracks, herhands on her hips. John kept walking.
“And how am I supposed to get allof that?” she wanted to know.
John turned back. “Any way youcan,” he shrugged.
He grinned to himself as he spunaround and continued on his way. She stood still for a moment, her bootssilent on the corridor.
“I’m going to kill him,” she finallymumbled.
His grin widened as her quietwords reached him.
“One of these days, I’m going tokill him.”
*
Dunlop was in the middle ofexamining Crocker when John burst in, his focus on the scanner readings. Theengineer’s head had repaired but the doctor wasn’t taking any chances with him.
“What do you want?” Dunlop asked,his brow creasing as he tapped the scanner screen a couple of times.
“We’ve got a situation down onthe moon,” John told him.
Dunlop’s gaze flicked to him thenback to the scanner as he moved it over Crocker’s head.
“We got jumped and… Anyway, Iagreed to give them all this stuff,” he held the list out to the doctor, “andthey’ll let the guys go.”
Dunlop continued with Crocker,leaving John holding the list.
“One day, I’ll keep my mouthshut,” he finished.
“Impossible,” Dunlop told him,repeating McReidy’s opinion.
“Does everyone in the universeknow that?” John asked in exasperation.
“Probably.” Finished with thescanner, Dunlop took the list and read it through. “Their requirements seem toagree with what you say. It’s all basic stuff really. What we haven’t got, wecan manufacture. It might take a few hours. I assume you have checked outtheir story. I’d hate to think they’d sell the stuff.”
“I never even thought about it,”John confessed.
“Then do it.”
It was back to the bridge. Itdidn’t take long for Tan to confirm the Skaren’s story. That should have beenthe first thing to do on returning to the ship, but John found it hard to thinkclearly when his emotions were involved. He tended to act first, to go on hisinstincts. And right now, they told him to trust Roppa.
John checked his watch – nineteenminutes. A call down to the surface gave an approximate time. Roppa wouldwait. He was in no hurry. When everything was ready, he would give theco-ordinates for delivery.
“You know, sir,” Giacomo brokethe silence that engulfed the bridge. “We could transport them straight out ofthere.”
“I know,” John answered. “Butwhat would that achieve? We’re not out here to make enemies.”
“And I still can’t find theirship,” Hartford was scratching his head. “It’s got to be cloaked, but thenthere’s no exhaust trail in scanning range.”
“Leave it, Mister Hartford,” Johntold him.
