Beyond the transparent globe, four thruster shields were spaced equidistant about the central field. Peripheral fields were given over to ships awaiting transition, freighters being loaded for night departure slots, ships undergoing major repairs, storage sheds, private vessels in longer-term storage, and military craft. Every few minutes an internal Hegemony vessel would lift off or arrive in smoothly humming precision.
Once every quarter hour a brilliant gravity net would peel open in an awesome display of barely controlled power, releasing a ship into the swirling nothingness of null-space. Timed in similar cadence, a vortex would suddenly appear above an empty thruster shield, and suddenly a ship would appear in a white-gold flash of light. Consuela noticed how Wander would key them both out of direct contact with the ship just before the fifteen-second count was coded. She understood him perfectly. He had other duties that would not give him the interval necessary to recover from having time stretched.
After two hours of almost constant activity, Wander’s robe was growing damp spots under his arms and at the small of his back. His voice was steady but hoarse. Several times he paused long enough to wipe the perspiration away from his eyes.
A few minutes later the main portal opened to admit a heavy-set woman with a head of tightly clenched curls. As she treaded up the stairs to the communicator’s platform, she did not bother to cover her astonishment. “You are standing watch?”
“Yes, Communicator,” Wander replied.
“A scout handling full watch?” Her cheeks sprouted two red spots. “Who authorized this?”
“Senior Pilot Grimson,” Commandant Loklin said dryly, swiveling his chair around to face Wander. “You may tell the pilot that he was correct. I have indeed been surprised.”
“Thank you, Commandant,” Wander said, rising to his feet.
The woman demanded, “How long have you been in training, Scout?”
“Two months.” Wander pointed to the flickering console. “Fifteen Hegemony vessels, all coded on channels seven and nine. Four—”
“Get off my platform,” she snapped. “Now.”
Wander bowed his head in weary acceptance. He coded the message board and stated quietly, “Scout Wander logging out.”
“Communicator Zenna logging in,” she stated in fury, and kept her hand on the key as she continued, “What utter mess have you left me with?”
Wander motioned with his head for Consuela to follow him down. As they approached the portal, Commandant Loklin called out, “Scout Wander.”
Wander straightened. “Yes, Commandant.”
“You may tell the senior pilot,” the commandant replied, “that you are welcome to stand duty on my watch at any time.”
It took Wander a moment before he could reply. “Thank you, Commandant.”
Consuela turned to toss a gloat back toward the outraged communicator, when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She seized Wander’s arm. “Wait a second.”
“What’s the matter?” He followed her eyes and said, “It’s just another ensign logging in his ship.”
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “That’s Rick!”
Chapter Eleven
They did not like each other. That much was clear even before introductions were made.
No question about it, Rick looked incredibly dashing in his uniform. As the three of them walked the crew’s passage back to his gate, every female crew member who passed granted him frankly assessing glances. Consuela would have enjoyed the questioning attention that consequently landed upon her, except for Wander. After the excitement she had shown over seeing Rick, Wander had retreated into his silent shell and had not emerged.
The passage forked, one way leading through customs and out into the port proper, the other back toward the eastport terminal gates. Wander stopped and announced, “I think I should report back to Pilot Grimson.”
Consuela found herself reluctant to let him go. “Can’t you leave it for just a little while?”
“I can see you want to speak with your homeworld friend,” he said quietly, refusing even to look in Rick’s direction.
“Yeah, look, I don’t have much time,” Rick agreed. “My ship’s scheduled to lift off, soon as we onload a shipment.”
Consuela found herself hurting from the look of sorrow in Wander’s eyes. “He’s just a friend,” she said softly.
“Of course,” Wander replied. He gave them a stiff nod and walked down the outgoing passage.
Consuela stayed where she was, watching his retreating back, until Rick pressed, “I’ve got to be getting back. They keep me on a short leash.”
“Okay,” she said and walked on, trying to collect herself. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think?” Rick flashed his famous grin. “I came to rescue you.”
She felt herself growing hot. “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure, sure.” Under the gaze of three attractive crew women, Rick’s walk took on a swagger. “Anyway, do you want to hear what happened or not?”
“Tell me.”
As she listened to his story, Consuela found herself thinking more of Wander than of the world she had left behind. Rick finished with, “The craziest thing is how I know all this stuff. Everything about the ship, you name it, I know it. Has that happened to you too?”
“No. But I have,” she hesitated, then settled on, “some new abilities.”
“Yeah, you’re wearing a scout’s robes. That means you’re a sensitive, right?”
“Yes.” But she was thinking of how sad Wander had looked when he had left them. Consuela gazed up at Rick, comparing his easy strength and unshakable confidence with Wander’s quiet reserve. No, there wasn’t any question whom she preferred.
“See what I mean? There’s no way I could know anything like that.” He pointed down a branch passage. “This is my gate.”
Consuela tried to push her heart’s concerns aside. “So do you want to go back home?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’ve got to, right?” Then he turned and looked down the branch passage. “Do you think all this is real?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Me neither. Sure seems—”
“Ensign, is your captain on board?”
Consuela started at the sound of the voice echoing down the passageway and turned to see Grimson and Wander rapidly approaching. She watched Rick come stiffly to full alert and reply, “Should be. We’re scheduled for lift-off soon.”
“Find him, please. Tell him that Senior Pilot Grimson urgently needs to speak with him.”
“Yes, Pilot.”
“No, better still, we will follow you on board. This matter cannot wait.” Brusquely the pilot motioned him forward. “Lead on, Ensign. Come along, you two.”
Consuela fell into step alongside Wander. As the other two pulled ahead, she whispered, “What’s going on?”
Wander shook his head. “He was looking for me. I’ve never seen him run—”
“Silence,” Grimson rapped out.
The passage jinked and opened into a broad loading platform. Landing crew entered through the cargo passage. They manipulated hand controls to guide wheelless handcarts up the ramp and through the broad ship’s portal. Two of the ship’s crew inspected documents, checked each item off their noteboards, and assigned a hold number before permitting passage. When Grimson came into view, both crewmen snapped to startled attention.
“Ensign Richard with visitors for the captain,” Rick announced, and the change in his voice caused Consuela to look at him anew.
The senior crewman raised his noteboard. “Names?”
“Senior Pilot Grimson and two scouts,” the pilot snapped.
“I’ll call him downside,” the crewman said.
“You’ll do no such thing. The matter is most urgent. I demand immediate entry.”
Clearly the crewman had no interest in a confrontation with an irate pilot. “He’s in the top outer hold with the sup
ercargo.”
“Notify him of our arrival. Lead on, Ensign. Hurry, man, hurry.” Grimson motioned for Consuela and Wander to follow.
Consuela caught fleeting glimpses of vast holds, incredibly strange machinery, bustling technicians. As she rode the chute alongside Wander, she was gratified to see that the excitement of being in a ship had erased his earlier sorrow.
She took the moment of relative privacy to whisper, “Everything’s all right, Wander. Really.”
Wander tore his gaze from the vista beneath them. His face took on somber lines as he said, “The ensign is very handsome.”
“Very,” Consuela agreed.
“And he is from your homeworld. You must have a lot in common.”
“Some. But we are still just friends.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
She tried hard to open her gaze. “It’s important to me that you understand, Wander. Rick is not a threat to us.”
“To us?” he repeated softly.
“That’s right,” she said. “Us.”
He started to speak, then glanced up. “Get ready to disembark.”
Consuela turned away, stepped out, adjusted to the gravity change, and followed the pilot and Rick across the deck toward a pair of stout hold doors. But before they could push through, a hatchet-faced man emerged. The sharp-edged officer wore a uniform of darkest gray dressed with numerous gold insignias. “Senior Pilot Grimson?”
“Captain Arnol.” The pilot gave a little bow. “Thank you for seeing me.”
The captain maintained his cold rigidity. “I understand the matter is so urgent you could not obey proper procedures.”
“That is correct. I would ask a favor.”
That startled him. “A pilot asks a favor of a Hegemony freighter captain?”
“I understand that you are outbound and due to return here again in nine days’ time.”
“All that is a matter of record.”
“I would ask that you take these two scouts with you on a training run.”
Wander gasped aloud. Captain Arnol eyed him, then turned his attention back to the pilot. “This is most unusual.”
“Indeed. So are the circumstances.” Grimson held himself stiffly erect. “I would consider myself in your debt, Captain.”
The captain studied him. “I have heard that Senior Pilot Grimson is a man of his word.”
“You need but name your request, Captain.”
“You are perhaps aware,” Arnol replied slowly, “that I am up for consideration as captain of a new outbound passenger vessel.”
“I was not,” Grimson replied. “But I shall make it my business to become fully involved in the matter.”
The captain unbent enough to nod once, then turned his attention to the two scouts. “How long have they been in training?”
“Scout Wander for just over two months. Scout Consuela for less than one week.”
“A week?” The captain’s ire mounted. “You are saddling me with a novice?”
Pilot Grimson hesitated, then said quietly, “They are both Talents.”
Rick mirrored the captain’s astonishment. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely certain.”
“Two Talents based at this port?”
“Two Talents in the same scout squadron,” Grimson replied. “And I have just received word that a diplomat is arriving this very afternoon.”
“Ah. I understand your dilemma.” Arnol hesitated, then said, “I must warn you, Pilot, that our destinations are Solarus and Avanti.”
The pilot was clearly rocked by the news. “I wondered why the destinations were not stated on your manifest.”
“As you can see, we have reasons for secrecy.”
Grimson thought his way through a deep breath. “I have no choice. Yours is the only vessel scheduled for a swift return that departs before the diplomat’s arrival.”
“Very well.” Captain Arnol turned to Rick and ordered, “Take them to Chief Petty Officer Tucker. Have him assign berths. Then get below and prepare for lift-off.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“You have earned a pilot’s gratitude,” Grimson said solemnly.
“No small matter. You must excuse me now, Pilot. We are approaching the final countdown, and I have a ship to run.” Captain Arnol returned the pilot’s bow, then said to Wander and Consuela, “Follow whoever gives you instructions. Stay in your berths until either I or the chief petty officer sends for you. A novice scout carries no authority on this ship. Step out of line, and you’ll stand punishment detail like any other shipmate. Understand?”
“Yes, Captain,” they chorused.
“I see they have landed in the correct pair of hands,” Grimson said, then turned to the pair and ordered, “I have taken on a debt because of you. Repay me with correct shipboard service. I will give Captain Arnol’s report my most careful scrutiny.” He inspected them for a long moment, then walked to the down-chute and disappeared.
“All right,” the captain barked. “Departure stations. On the bounce.”
Chapter Twelve
Consuela found the wait incredibly boring. Her cubbyhole had the same featureless quality of her room at port, only smaller. There was a limit to the amount of time she could nap, especially when she knew she was in a ship under power.
After what felt like days, the door opened to reveal Rick. He grinned and said, “The chief petty officer wants you on deck, Scout.”
“Finally.” She leapt from the seat, checked her hair in the mirror, and followed him into the passageway. “I never thought space could be so boring.”
“Get used to it,” he replied, stopping in front of Wander’s door.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll let Petty Officer Tucker tell you.” Rick made no move to open the portal. “Who is this guy, Consuela?”
“Wander is a friend. A good friend.”
“Wander,” he snickered. “What a name.”
“He is the finest person I’ve ever met.”
“That so?”
“Yes,” she replied. “It is.”
Rick did not show the jealousy she had half expected. Instead he seemed positively thrilled. “So you’re falling for the guy.”
“What if I am?”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. I think that’s great.”
“You sound relieved.”
“Maybe so.” Rick hesitated. “Last year I got burned by this girl back at school. I don’t know, for some reason I was worried about you doing the same thing. But I haven’t fallen for you, see, so everything’s great. Really.” He looked at her. “You don’t think I’m a flake, do you?”
She started. It was exactly what she had been thinking. “I think you are too handsome for your own good,” she said slowly. “And I think life is too easy for you.”
Anger flared in his eyes. “That shows how well you know me.”
“There’s no need to get mad. You asked me what I thought.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for nothing.” He punched the door pad and watched Wander scramble to his feet. “Show time, sport. The chief petty officer doesn’t like to be kept waiting. And watch yourselves in there. Something’s got him in a bad state.”
As they walked down the gently curving passageway, Consuela bumped up against Wander, swiftly grasped his hand, squeezed and released it. She felt a warm spot blossom in her heart with the delight that sprang to his face.
Still miffed, Rick asked as he walked, “You really think it’s wise to get involved when we don’t know how long—”
“Stop that,” Consuela snapped back. “Right now.”
“Just asking,” he said, pleased to find a weak point. “I mean, you can’t tell—”
“I’m warning you,” Consuela declared.
Wander looked at her. “Is this the secret you wanted to tell me about?”
“Yes,” she replied.
Rick stared over his shoulder. “You’re going to try and explain it to him?”
“Lead on, Ensign,” Consuela replied. “This is between Wander and me.”
Rick snorted his derision. He stopped in front of a portal, keyed the intercom, and said, “Ensign Richard reporting with the two scouts.”
“Enter.”
The door sighed back to reveal one of the largest men Consuela had ever seen. He glanced up from his cluttered work station. “Scouts Wander and Consuela, do I have that right?” From beneath bushy eyebrows he gave them a dour inspection. “Neither of you have worked flight duty before, is that not also true?”
“I have never been on a ship before,” Wander replied.
He glowered at them. “We ask for Starfleet help,” he groused. “Every outbound voyage. We hear nothing for years on end, and now this?”
Consuela followed Wander’s lead and said nothing.
“I am Chief Petty Officer Tucker, Tuck to my friends, which you two are most certainly not. I won’t make any secret of it, I don’t have much time for sensitives, nor do my crew. You’ll be well advised to stay in your berths except when you’re standing watch. Ensign Richard here has offered to escort you to and from flight deck and to deliver your meals.”
“But that’s like being in prison,” Consuela protested.
“Not at all,” the petty officer replied with vast satisfaction. “Ship’s company have no right to order sensitives about; I know that as well as the next man. You’re welcome to go anywhere you want, any time you want. But don’t come crawling to me if some mate decides to let you have it. I guarantee your protection only if you obey my rules.” He settled massive forearms on his paperwork and leaned forward. “Stay in your quarters if you know what’s good for you.”
“But why would they want to hurt us?” Consuela demanded. “I’ve never even seen the inside of a ship before.”
“More’s the pity,” Tucker barked. “Let’s just say that your kind has let us down one time too many.” He glowered at them a moment longer, then picked up a form and said, “Now then. Captain Arnol says he wants to have you train together. Save him the need of repeating things. You sensitives are limited to a four-hour shift each Standard day, so—”
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