The General Manager lowered hiseyes and tapped a keyboard in front of him. A message appeared on the smallscreen on the arm of John’s chair and he glanced at the amount. A quote basedon the damage he’d stated, subject to change on a proper investigation byrepair engineers.
“Money is such an ugly subject todiscuss,” the General Manager smiled.
It might be ugly to discuss, butcertainly not too ugly to write down.
“Send it to Earth,” John returnedthe smile. “I will forward the instructions.”
“Of course. Thank you and enjoyyour stay.”
The main screen switched off.
“Mister Gillespie, we’re going toneed some currency.”
“Yes, sir.”
Why did John find similarities inthe General Manager and Gillespie’s delights?
“Giacomo, leave. Humphries,network. Take backup. No one goes alone. You,” he turned to Gillespie, “takedouble backup. McReidy…”
He hadn’t left her in chargesince he’d thrown her off the bridge and he was reluctant to do so now. Yetgiving her leave was almost like a reward and he wasn’t feeling overly generoustowards her.
“Take eight and I want you backhere.”
“What are you going to tellCommand?” Giacomo asked.
“We got caught, we ran. Nearlyblew an engine in the process.”
The bridge emptied and Johnchecked the roster. It was pretty much going out the window at this stage. The engineers deserved a break but there was no way he was going to let anyonenear his ship unwatched.
He hit the intercom toengineering. “Red there?”
“Sir,” Red acknowledged.
“I’ve got some repairsorganised. You guys deserve leave, but I’m not letting anyone loose on theship. Can you keep a couple of staff around doing whatever?”
“As trusting as ever, sir. Cap’nDecker’d be proud of you.”
A touch of warmth hit John andeased his mood.
“Don’t worry, sir. We’ll sortit.”
“Thank you.”
“Mister North, Mister Hartford,to the bridge.”
He reorganised the roster andnotified the crew. He’d barely finished when Red’s voice came over hiscommunicator.
“Sir, repair crews are here.”
“Thank you,” John acknowledged.
* * *
The Bachaans worked efficiently. In a matter of days, Bismarck was repaired, rearmed and ready to leave. A lickof paint before final sealing brightened her exterior, the colour match almostidentical to the original. Compliments of the station, the General Managerassured John when he queried the paintwork hadn’t been included on the finalbill.
He took the answer at face value,but reasoned its cost would be in there somewhere.
The engineers had sourced somematerials of their own and Gillespie’s finances were strapped. John was happyto put his hand in his own pocket and so were a few others. Not enough tocover parts, but more than enough to stake Gillespie.
Hartford was a good juniorofficer, but not one John would rely on to have Gillespie’s back on his own.
“We’ll be back in a couple ofhours,” John told McReidy when she notified him the Bachaans had given the allclear for them to leave.
He switched his communicator offand scanned the lounge. Humphries was in jovial conversation with some newfriends, North a short distance away browsing through a magazine while coveringhis back.
“Ship,” John mouthed, raising hiseyebrows, when he caught Humphries’ eye.
Humphries managed the slightestnod, waiting for an appropriate break before downing the rest of his drink,putting his glass on the table and making his excuses.
North put his magazine on therack.
Hartford’s gaze shifted betweenHumphries, Gillespie and John.
Gambling was popular on thestation. Security cameras and personnel, standing out in the lime green shirtand trousers of the establishment, watched everything to ensure it was allabove board. Card and dice games always seemed to draw crowds. Many onlookersas anxious on the outcomes as the participants.
Gillespie was in his element ashe sat at a card table. He was playing the game and playing his opponents – losinga bit and winning nothing that would garner suspicion.
John had a good view of the roomand wasn’t moving. Hartford slipped through the crowd to his side.
“Go back to the ship,” he told Hartford. “I’ll stay with him.”
“Yes, sir,” Hartford spoke quietly.
“Make sure everyone else isback.”
John kept his attention onGillespie as Hartford moved out of his peripherals. A second glance at theroom told him Humphries and North had left.
He sat on his drink, declining arefill from the bartender.
A good half hour passed. Acouple of games began to end. One with a drawn weapon which saw both theoffender and his target immediately arrested by staff and carted away to bedealt with later.
Gillespie didn’t even flinch atthe distraction; raising the kitty before being beaten by a pair of queens –and showing the appropriate disappointment. A new hand was dealt.
John checked his watch and sippedat his drink, the liquid warming past room temperature from the glass being inhis hand.
A dice game ended. The rivalsheaded for the bar, the victor offering to shout the loser. John emptied hisglass, put it on the bar and moved clear. The magazine rack where North hadbeen offered as good a view as anywhere.
Gillespie’s face was set instone. He was calm and relaxed while his opponents were becoming nervous. Onesweated and gulped at a glass of water. Another squinted incessantly at hiscards while a third tapped the table with his index finger. A fourth wastrying to stare him down.
The stakes had become high, thekitty including cash, credits and a couple of pieces of jewellery, and a smallcrowd was gathering. Some even placing a few side bets on the outcome.
“Excuse me, Commander Madison?”
John turned around and lookeddown at the Bachaan who stood no taller than his chest. A tag pinned to hislime shirt had a name and a word that translated to “concierge”. “Yes?”
“I have a communication from yourship. If you would come this way?”
“Yes… of course.” John frowned. If he was needed back on the ship, why hadn’t he been contacted directly?
He scanned the room and the cardgame, assuring himself everything was fine, before following the concierge tothe main corridor, which was lined with doors. The concierge opened a door toa small office containing a desk, chair and computer console.
“Press the green button when youare ready to receive. The red button to end transmission.”
“Thank you.”
The concierge bowed to leave.
“You will notify my friend of mywhereabouts when they have finished?”
“Certainly, sir.” The conciergebowed again, this time taking his leave.
John hit the green button. “Madison here, go ahead.”
The sight that greeted him
