commander, Commodore Sampson. His software was what Sampson used to keep the ships of AttackRon Six at the Paris system from hearing their attack orders were bogus.”
“Oh shit,” Jack echoed her.
Harvey didn’t bat an eyelash at all those answers to his questions about Paris. “Well, at least he’s far away from us.”
“For now, at least,” Kris said. Jack eyed her, but Kris offered no further comment, and Jack said nothing.
4
Kris drummed her fingers on the dressing table while Abby got her hair down. “Search on ships that docked at Castagon 6 a week before the Bellerophon and get their passenger lists.”
“Yes ma’am,” said Nelly.
In sweatpants and tank top, Kris joined Harvey and Jack in the sitting room, now an intelligence center. One wall proved to be a screen. It now showed what they knew: not much. Lotty arrived; no one was in danger of starving tonight or going without caffeine.
As Kris settled into a lounger, Nelly announced the search of shipping to Castagon 6 was negative. Only the Bellerophon had docked there in the last week. “Why do I find that hard to believe? Nelly, Tru has this way of getting better information about shipping. Check with Sam.” Nelly made a call.
Sam suggested the list of ships jumping to a port often showed more traffic than the list of ships the port said arrived.
The morning sun streamed through Kris’s unused bedroom before Nelly completed a much broader search. Done the other way around, it seemed that the yacht Space Adder had jumped from Turantic 4 with the destination of Castagon 6 two days before the Bellerophon arrived. The Space Adder was back at Turantic two days after Tom’s ship left. Ah, the bits of information in the public domain databases . . . if you just didn’t get misled by the easily doctored answers.
Lotty arrived with breakfast as Kris sat silently organizing her day. She should report to the ship. It was Saturday, and she didn’t have to, but the Captain usually put in half a day, and Kris tried to match him. She stifled a yawn and reviewed what Nelly had sifted out of the mass of information available. The wall screen was now full; down one side was a chronology. While Kris had found out about Tom’s travel plans and interruptions only in the last twelve hours, it had been longer in the doing.
Tommy had messaged her before boarding the Bellerophon five days ago. Being a thrifty, underpaid junior officer, his message went standby and had been bumped from the queue several times in its transit through two jump points from High Cambria to Wardhaven. Kris wondered if that was Tom’s way of ensuring he was well on his way before she could do anything.
Miss Pasley’s message had farther to go but had spent Kris’s money going faster. Tommy apparently had left the Bellerophon a bit more than two days ago. Which meant he’d arrived at Turantic late yesterday while Kris was passing social chitchat with a thousand of her father’s closest friends. Kris slowly munched one of Lotty’s high-fiber muffins while absorbing the time flow.
A second section was now a stellar map, showing the planets important to this drill. The Bellerophon ’s trip from High Cambria to Itsahfine involved four jumps but only one stop, that at Castagon 6. The round trip from Turantic to Castagon was just two jumps. Wardhaven to Turantic was a three-jump trip along well-traveled trading lanes.
“Nelly, do me a full political workup on Turantic.” Until recently, human space was human space, and a study of the Society of Humanity supposedly told the tale. Growing up sharing a dinner table with her father had given Kris an early realization that what the high school civics teacher called United Humanity was full of factions that the Prime Minister regularly had to juggle to get anything done. Now those factions were independent associations, and star maps needed not just lines for shipping lanes but different colors to show where the customs inspectors lived
“Oh shit,” Jack echoed her.
Harvey didn’t bat an eyelash at all those answers to his questions about Paris. “Well, at least he’s far away from us.”
“For now, at least,” Kris said. Jack eyed her, but Kris offered no further comment, and Jack said nothing.
4
Kris drummed her fingers on the dressing table while Abby got her hair down. “Search on ships that docked at Castagon 6 a week before the Bellerophon and get their passenger lists.”
“Yes ma’am,” said Nelly.
In sweatpants and tank top, Kris joined Harvey and Jack in the sitting room, now an intelligence center. One wall proved to be a screen. It now showed what they knew: not much. Lotty arrived; no one was in danger of starving tonight or going without caffeine.
As Kris settled into a lounger, Nelly announced the search of shipping to Castagon 6 was negative. Only the Bellerophon had docked there in the last week. “Why do I find that hard to believe? Nelly, Tru has this way of getting better information about shipping. Check with Sam.” Nelly made a call.
Sam suggested the list of ships jumping to a port often showed more traffic than the list of ships the port said arrived.
The morning sun streamed through Kris’s unused bedroom before Nelly completed a much broader search. Done the other way around, it seemed that the yacht Space Adder had jumped from Turantic 4 with the destination of Castagon 6 two days before the Bellerophon arrived. The Space Adder was back at Turantic two days after Tom’s ship left. Ah, the bits of information in the public domain databases . . . if you just didn’t get misled by the easily doctored answers.
Lotty arrived with breakfast as Kris sat silently organizing her day. She should report to the ship. It was Saturday, and she didn’t have to, but the Captain usually put in half a day, and Kris tried to match him. She stifled a yawn and reviewed what Nelly had sifted out of the mass of information available. The wall screen was now full; down one side was a chronology. While Kris had found out about Tom’s travel plans and interruptions only in the last twelve hours, it had been longer in the doing.
Tommy had messaged her before boarding the Bellerophon five days ago. Being a thrifty, underpaid junior officer, his message went standby and had been bumped from the queue several times in its transit through two jump points from High Cambria to Wardhaven. Kris wondered if that was Tom’s way of ensuring he was well on his way before she could do anything.
Miss Pasley’s message had farther to go but had spent Kris’s money going faster. Tommy apparently had left the Bellerophon a bit more than two days ago. Which meant he’d arrived at Turantic late yesterday while Kris was passing social chitchat with a thousand of her father’s closest friends. Kris slowly munched one of Lotty’s high-fiber muffins while absorbing the time flow.
A second section was now a stellar map, showing the planets important to this drill. The Bellerophon ’s trip from High Cambria to Itsahfine involved four jumps but only one stop, that at Castagon 6. The round trip from Turantic to Castagon was just two jumps. Wardhaven to Turantic was a three-jump trip along well-traveled trading lanes.
“Nelly, do me a full political workup on Turantic.” Until recently, human space was human space, and a study of the Society of Humanity supposedly told the tale. Growing up sharing a dinner table with her father had given Kris an early realization that what the high school civics teacher called United Humanity was full of factions that the Prime Minister regularly had to juggle to get anything done. Now those factions were independent associations, and star maps needed not just lines for shipping lanes but different colors to show where the customs inspectors lived
Similar Books
