“I’ll see you in the morning,Giacomo.”
“Good night, sir.”
* * *
The next few destinations weremet with similar ease. Some were expecting them, others were not. Johnfigured Command would have sent formal notification. It was up to the relevantworld to respond or ignore. And, like all indirect messages, sometimes theyjust didn’t get through. Even so, it was not hard to round up support. Bynow, most worlds were aware of what was going on.
John rotated his crew among thelanding parties depending on numbers allowed. If someone had been there, theywere first on his list.
He drove himself crazy learningprotocols and stumbling over the correct pronunciation of words. Translationsprinted across the bottom of the main screen as he spoke to the relevantofficials so the bridge crew knew what was being said and he knew if he’dmessed up.
McReidy seemed to enjoy hisdiscomfort. She regretted it as a barely hidden giggle on one occasion had himtelling her she was going to learn it all from now on.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you should know what’sgoing on.”
“That’s why we have translators.”
“I can guarantee there are goingto be times when I am not going down there,” he ground out.
The Stelicor Prime Mistress raisedher eyebrows and allowed her glasses to slide down her long nose so she couldstare over the top of them as John mispronounced a word. He corrected himselfimmediately. She was satisfied, insisting he bring “the delightful youngpersonage flying your ship”.
Humphries looked up from thehelm. “What? Me?”
John wasn’t the only one temptedto thump him as he saw McReidy’s elbow twitch.
A two hour negotiation withtranslators working overtime and way more glances at Humphries than either manwas comfortable with and a workable treaty resulted.
Humphries shuddered as hematerialised back on Bismarck.
“Go have a shower and be back onthe bridge in half an hour,” John grinned, stepping off the transporter pad andignoring Rodgers’ querying expression.
Rodgers expression shifted toHumphries as John passed him and headed into the corridor.
“Just shut your mouth,” Humphriessilenced any comment the transport operator might have made.
Some worlds shut them downcompletely and wished no interaction. Some hedged, wishing not to commit toanything but to leave their options open. John left a treaty with those whowould take one and referred any future consultations to Command. Othersembraced any sort of support, insisting on the full formal protocol of dining andreception.
Treaties had been drawn up inmultiple languages by those officials in Fleet Command and Earth government whoknew what they were talking about. Negotiations and alterations had John readyto hit his head against a brick wall as messages ran back and forth fromofficialdom. He had the permission to make slight alterations – no one hadexpected any race to agree to anything on first proposal – but he had strictlimitations on what he could do. It seemed to be a variance of politics thatmost changes were within those limitations. While most races saw sense, othersappeared to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult.
John sent regular reports toFleet Command. He had been able to gather a wealth of information. Also, hehad discovered a new talent in Humphries. Not only could he talk his way outof anything, he could also talk his way into anything.
The first time he took the man toa formal occasion, he came back with a few tidbits of information John hadn’tmanaged to get.
He had managed to worm his wayinto the confidences of some junior officials, who were tempted to big notethemselves by secretly bragging about things they should not have known about. Encouraged by a few drinks and a bit of flattery, it was sometimes hard to stopthem.
The only problem was thatHumphries couldn’t handle his alcohol. He could keep his mouth shut; he justcouldn’t remember what was being said. Trying to reduce his intake didn’twork. Some of his new friends were offended if he didn’t keep up with them.
The problem was soon fixed whenKowalski rewired his communicator to become a recorder. Then he didn’t have toremember a thing. He was still careful of what he drank, setting a limit onwhat he believed he could handle. The occasional hangover meant a day offduty, which was a fair trade.
John didn’t give him free rein. If a situation seemed likely to yield more information, he permitted it. Diplomacy and official procedure took time, but the foundation of buildingallies was important.
The closer Bismarck came to thebattle zone, the worse the news was. Desperate to know what they might becoming up against, John contacted Drago. The Betelian captain had the mostaccurate information and was happy to share it. In return, John was happy toshare what he knew – or what had been rumoured.
The invaders had taken all beforethem. On striking firm resistance, they were content to block all advances andturn their attacks outwards. Like a giant fist opening its fingers, its reachextended. As the fingers spread, some planets began to slip from its grasp. Worlds that were not considered important were ignored whereas originally theywould have been completely overrun.
Pockets of resistance began tobuild up on overlooked planets. That was what Admiral Powers was hoping for. It was Bismarck’s job to find out who and where they were, and what theircapabilities were. The task was a daunting one. It was bad enough trying tofind where the enemy was. Trying to find resistance groups was just asdangerous. No one was talking. No one was trusting. And while a treaty mightbe negotiated, that was all that was being talked about.
Cartography was kept busyplotting a network of allies, neutrals, refusals and rumour.
The border became a fragmentedjoin-the-dots. It shifted and changed as easily as dunes in a desert.
Drago’s fleet had returned. Theywere holding their own, but desperately in need of reinforcements. The Earthfleet and its allies were two weeks away.
“You know, sir,” Giacomo ventured. “We could get there in less time.”
“The fleet left after us,”McReidy reminded him.
John sank back in his chair asthe reality hit him. “That …”
“Sir?” Giacomo queried.
“We’re faster than the fleet.”
“What?” McReidy turned in herseat to face him.
John nodded. “Yep.”
“Do you think Admiral Powersknows that?”
“I’d bet my life on it.”
“Hmm,” McReidy considered. “Sohe doesn’t just hate you.”
Even though that was not news toanyone
