John smiled warmly. It was one of the nicest compliments she had paid him.
“One day,” she told him, “you’re going to run out of luck. You’ll get in so deep no one will be able to pull you out.”
That still couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief.
“Let’s hope that never happens.” Just as suddenly his mood changed. He became serious as his thoughts turned back to work. “So what do you make of this lot.”
She took a few moments to read through the list and he sipped at his coffee. Oh, he needed that almost as much as the painkillers.
“I don’t like it… The first couple are all right, but this one here… Jampor. Magellan went there once… They didn’t want to have anything to do with us.” She shuddered as the memory came back. “I was glad to get away from there.”
John frowned slightly. All signs of softness disappeared from his face. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to do the groundwork. I’ll be out of action for at least a week.”
“Are you all right? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Her concern was genuine, but he couldn’t help grinning as he told her: “That’s the second time you’ve propositioned me.”
The grin soon turned to a grimace. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing; slow and even. Just as well McReidy was lost for words. He wasn’t listening to anything at the moment. He opened his eyes.
“Just a few cracked ribs,” he explained. “It only hurts when I breathe. According to the doc, if I lose my temper I’ll be unconscious. Although that’s easy for him to say with a hypo in his hand. It would probably give him great pleasure to knock me out for a week.”
She was quiet, and he figured she was in full agreement with the doctor and would probably love to see him knocked out for a week. Then her look changed to one of curiosity – and it had nothing to do with the list in front of her.
“Don’t try and figure me out. You’ll give yourself a nervous breakdown.”
* * *
John managed to keep his temper for the next week, and for several more after that. He had to leave all the ground contact with new alien worlds to McReidy. At first, it was hard; almost impossible. That came more from his own restlessness. But he had faith in her to do her job and came to depend on her heavily.
He also worried. From the moment a landing party left until they returned, he felt he was nothing more than an interested onlooker. He could advise, but that was difficult when he was not fully involved. And he missed being involved. It was dangerous, made even more so when he felt so helpless. He knew it always had been. The personal thrill had always overcompensated.
The bridge crew set an example that was reflected throughout the entire ship. They worked as one, each interdependent on everyone else. Looking out for each other as much on the ship as they did on the ground. Even John and McReidy seemed to have put aside their differences. They still disagreed as much as ever, but restricted their verbal battles to the soundproof privacy of John’s office. More often than not, they actually agreed, arguing the same side of a problem from different perspectives.
As they ploughed in and out of the border, John began looking for targets. He was not willing to risk the ship and only took out what he confidently felt he could achieve. The handful of fighters on a training exercise that had strayed too far from their home ship was an opportunity too good to resist. So too had been the lone outpost set up in a newly occupied area.
He took on nothing that might cause any problems. Their defence systems were in excellent condition. Anything that looked like trouble, he steered well away from. At the moment, it was a matter of developing technique and perfecting teamwork.
Battle simulations were well and good, but when there was no real danger there was a tendency to relax. The satisfaction of actually doing something, of making a difference, was a great incentive.
* * *
Then they came to Jampor. On making initial contact, Bismarck was ignored. Persistence became annoyance until finally they were warned to keep away. They were not welcome, would never be welcome and should leave immediately or suffer the consequences. General consensus among the crew was to do as told.
John had to disagree. For whatever reason, Jampor was important to Command. Admiral Powers had stressed such in their orders. Nothing short of success would be satisfactory. The crew accepted his decision without question – a response that surprised him since he was usually open to any suggestions.
He considered the landing party. This time he was going. His ribs weren’t too bad and he figured he’d been out of step for too long. And he hated the idea of sending anyone to a place where they were so clearly not wanted.
The planet sat in full view on the main screen and he glanced around the bridge. “Gillespie –”
“Gillespie and I will go,” McReidy interrupted. “Magellan’s been there. We at least know what we’re up against.”
Gillespie was shaking his head slowly, his lack of desire clear on his face.
John was about to disagree with McReidy, but there were always advantages when someone knew the situation firsthand. “Who else do you want?”
“No one. Just the two of us.”
“What do you mean, no one? You can’t go down there alone.”
At McReidy’s frown, John checked himself. She’d had plenty of time to think this out properly. He had to trust her.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to take it,” he gave in. “I still don’t like it.”
“I want Kowalski on the transporter –”
“Mister Kowalski, transporter room now.” John flicked the intercom off. He met her soft brown eyes that were rapidly hardening. “Anything else?”
“Disk.” She held out her hand.
He took this treaty disk from his jacket pocket and tossed it to her.
“And a good stopwatch. Once we get down there, we’re going to have to do some pretty fast talking to convince them why they need us. They’re just as likely to try to kill us on the spot.” She paused, as though giving emphasis to her last statement. “Have you got Magellan’s files on record?”
“Only what we got from your shuttle. Computer, search files for any reference to Jampor.”
“Searching,” the computer acknowledged.
“Any particular reference?” John asked.
“The Imperial Compound. I don’t particularly want to have to go and look for somebody if we can locate the Governor directly.”
The computer found what it had. A geographical survey of the planet had been completed some sixteen months earlier.
“On screen,” John ordered. “Locate Imperial Compound.”
The image came up, the compound clearly shown. A brief consultation between McReidy and Gillespie had them agreeing about where they had to transport to.
McReidy turned her attention back to John. “If you don’t hear from either of us within fifteen seconds, pull us out.”
“Are you sure you can talk fast enough to convince them?” John began to worry. A slight frown creased his brow.
“Don’t ask silly questions. I’m a woman. Of course I can.”
The reassuring smile did little to ease his mind. The open admission to the annoying female fault brought a smirk from everyone. No one could ever accuse McReidy of talking too much.
With the departure of McReidy and Gillespie, the bridge was quiet. Too quiet. Giacomo was restless. He could barely keep his hands still. The seat beside him stayed empty. Gillespie’s position was filled – John insisted the station be permanently manned.
Giacomo allowed his gaze to wander around the bridge. Anything to distract him. Everyone else had their minds on their job. Was he the only one who worried…? No. He saw his concern reflected in John. He watched the commander for a moment, then turned away in embarrassment as the dark eyes felt, then returned his stare.
John wanted to say something to Giacomo. He felt he couldn’t do so with th
e rest of the crew looking on.
“McReidy to bridge. We’re ready to transport down… Remember, fifteen seconds. Not an instant longer.”
As if John needed to be told! He was ready to pull them out earlier. His calm voice belied his true feelings. “Keep that transporter lock on at all times, Mister Kowalski.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a few seconds silence.
“They’re down, sir.”
John glanced up from his watch. Giacomo was also counting. The first five seconds flew by. John cared. He knew he cared. That protective male instinct came naturally to him. He leant one elbow on the arm of his chair, unaware that he had begun biting at his thumb nail.
Eight… nine… The tension increased with each passing second. What was taking so long?
Twelve… The waiting was unbearable.
“Ready, Mister Kowalski?’ John knew the question was unnecessary.
“Ready, sir.” Kowalski’s hands were resting quietly on the controls.
Fourteen…
“McReidy to Bismarck. Stand by.”
“Standing by,” John acknowledged.
“Stand by?” Giacomo cried, unable to keep quiet any longer. “What does she mean ‘stand by’? Stand by for what?”
“That’s enough,” John stopped him. Giacomo had voiced his own thoughts. As much as he wanted to tell Kowalski to bring them back, he knew he had to trust McReidy. She obviously had things under control and just needed a little more time. They had to wait a bit longer, no matter how difficult that seemed.
“McReidy to Bismarck. Everything’s under control. Bring us up.”
John felt Giacomo’s relief sweep over him. Had he admitted his own tension, he would not have easily credited the pilot.
“That was the longest fifteen seconds of my life!” Giacomo breathed.
“Twenty five,” John corrected.
“Same thing.”
McReidy and Gillespie were back on the bridge within minutes. Gillespie took back his console; McReidy filled her empty position.
“That was the shortest fifteen seconds of my life!” she sighed. “Are you all right? You don’t look very well,” she told Giacomo, who blushed slightly at his apparent vulnerability.
“Well?” John interrupted her train of thought.
“Oh…” It took McReidy a second to get back on track. “Complete success. From our point of view, anyway. They are willing to begin discussions. Once we put them in contact with Command, it’s out of our hands. All you need to do is notify Command.”
John waived the responsibility to Gillespie. “You do it.”
* * *
John expected a full report from McReidy. One he knew would be on his desk by morning. She surprised him by dropping it by his quarters that night.
“I thought you’d still be working and I couldn’t see the point of waiting until morning,” she explained.
John glanced briefly at the report. “It’s longer than I expected.” He was leaning against the open doorway.
“Yeah, well it takes longer to write it down than it does to say it.”
He heard the slight irritation in her voice and looked up from the report as she stifled a yawn. “You look tired.”
“I am a bit.” She glanced past him at his cluttered desk. “And you look like you’ll be up all night.”
He turned and followed her gaze to his desk. He turned back, was about to say something, then changed his mind.
“Want a hand?” she offered.
“Thanks,” he smiled. He was grateful for the offer. There was a lot he wanted to get through and McReidy wasn’t the only one who was tired. She followed him back to his desk and he pulled up a chair for her. His ribs twinged only slightly as he did.
“Where do you want me to start?”
“We’ve been eavesdropping all day. I’m just going through the transcripts.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I was wondering how you picked your targets.”
He shrugged. “Something I can do with broken ribs.”
She looked at the papers scattered everywhere. “Wouldn’t it be easier to listen to the tape?”
“Yes, but it’s harder to cross reference.” He pulled out three sheets of paper and passed them over. “Take these three. All from roughly the same area. Two from ships, the other possibly a land based source. They all refer to the same thing.”
McReidy read the transcripts. They were brief, sketchy and unclear, making very little sense. She shook her head.
“They refer to a single alien ship,” John explained as he sat down. “All our reports state they move in packs.”
“A cripple heading home?”
“That was my first thought. Don’t worry.” He sensed her anxiety. “I’m not going after it. It’s too far out of our way.”
Back to top
Chapter fifteen
The following morning, John was slipping his jacket on, ready to head out of his quarters, when the door beeped. He automatically thought it was McReidy with something she hadn’t annoyed him with last night.
“Mister Tan?”
The communications officer stood there, his gaze straight ahead. He slowly lifted his eyes to meet John’s and a smile broke out, widening to a grin.
John mirrored the elation. “You did it?”
“Yes, sir,” Tan nodded.
John put his hands on Tan’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “Thank you.”
“Lieutenant Spencer is working on a language, but we got the code. I’ve already installed the key in the system.”
“You have just made my year, Mister Tan.” That was going to make those long nights so much easier. “Take the rest of the day off. Both of you.”
“I’d rather go back to work, sir.”
John dropped his hands and nodded. “Report to the bridge.” He switched on his communicator. “Madison to bridge. I’ve got some things to attend to. McReidy, you’re in charge.”
“Yes, sir,” she acknowledged.
“Madison to Lieutenant Spencer. Take the day off.”
There was a slight hesitation before she answered unsurely, “Yes, sir.”
“And thank you.”
There was no hesitation in her reply this time. “You’re welcome, sir.”
Tan headed to the bridge and John headed to his desk. He switched on the console, opened the key and ran an intercepted message through it. The message decoded – a scout ordered to return to its home ship.
He knew he should probably contact Command or the fleet. Somehow, that felt like a waste of breath. He knew who’d appreciate it, no questions asked.
He searched for the last known co-ordinates of the Betelian fleet and put a call through. “Commander Madison of Bismarck for Captain Drago.”
“Captain Drago is busy,” came the grudging reply.
“Tell him we cracked the Andromedan code and I’m sending him the key. Bismarck, out.” He sent the key and switched off.
He was barely out of his chair when the console switched back on and the captain filled the screen.
“Commander Madison. It is good to finally put a face to the messages.”
“Good morning, Captain.” John sat down again.
“Perhaps in your world, it is.” Drago’s attention drifted between John and the keypad in front of him as he tapped at it. Then a smile passed his face as he leaned back in his seat. “Your key works.”
“I have two excellent officers to thank for that.”
“I thank them also. This may be the break we have been looking for.”
“I would appreciate it if you could pass it on to the Earth fleet.”
Drago’s head tilted slightly.
“I’ve never been very popular with the admiralty.”
Drago’s tone lowered to what could almost be considered soft. “Understood.”
The captain signed off and John was left looking at a blank screen.
* * *
Another couple of worlds and they w
ere back on their original schedule. John was back on the ground and negotiating treaties with a new energy.
He spent nights in his quarters going over the day’s eavesdroppings. On the occasions he was completely exhausted, his mind kept ticking over and sleep escaped him. He was often on the bridge early, going over the nightly reports. Coffee in hand by the time the day shift arrived indicated how long he’d been there.
The ship was running as efficiently as she ever had. Torpedoes remained on the priority list – if and when they could get them or the materials needed to build them.
John was careful how he used the code. The encounters had to appear chance. If the Andromedans thought their code was compromised, they’d change it – and that was the last thing he wanted.
Rumours sparked through the resistance about the rebel force that was attacking from within. It struck hard and fast, leaving not a trace to its origin.
John was a perfectionist. Nothing was left half finished. When he attacked, his target was completely destroyed. No survivors were left to go running back with their tale. And when landing parties returned from treaty talks with gossip of the unknown rebels, the pride reflected in them all.
Giacomo’s flying was becoming dangerous. With each success, he became more confident, prompting him to take more risks. He was causing higher stress levels among the crew than the enemy.
A secret vote wanted him to be stood down. John refused. He had spent too much time on Giacomo to have his confidence shattered by a lack of faith among the rest of the crew. Instead, he decided to slow down. He had no intention of letting Command know what he was up to and if they fell behind schedule again, there’d be a drumming from Admiral Powers.
Humphries was at the helm one particular morning. He had commanded the bridge overnight and had yet to be relieved. With Giacomo absent, John had made him stay, giving him the helm. A cheeky grin and a fresh lease of life soon eradicated any signs of tiredness.
“Where’s Giacomo?” McReidy finally asked.
When the Dust Settled Page 25