“Uh-huh.”
“Here are your quarters, sir.” Kozlowski waved at the palm scanner by the door. “It’s already keyed to your ’print, sir. Until this ship reaches Dusk, you’re the only one who can enter it.”
His eyebrows shot heavenward. “The only one?”
“As in the only one, Captain. Not even the Skipper can get in here without your say-so.”
The elaborate precautions made Pete a little uneasy. The last time he’d dealt with anything on the order of this cloak-and-dagger affair, a lot of good Marines had died over a few credits’ worth of uranium ore on a backwater planet most of Terra couldn’t locate if they had God Himself pointing the way. His neck prickled at the distinctly uncomfortable memory.
He supposed it always would.
Stepping around Kozlowski, he pressed his palm to the reader. It glowed a cold blue for a moment, then flashed a friendly green. The door slid into the wall, allowing him access to his quarters.
Apparently diplomats live well , he thought enviously. One whole wall of the suite opened out onto an expansive starscape. As he watched, the lower curve of the immense bulge of Jupiter slid by in the upper half of the wall. Tearing his eyes away from the gas giant, he took stock of his surroundings.
The bed was about the size of a California king, covered with a comforter in a busy silver pattern. Directly across from that, a small alcove contained a desk with a built-in reading light and a holo panel. On the left of the desk were two sliding doors that he guessed led into a closet. On the right was another door. He nodded at it and shot Kozlowski a quizzical look.
“The head, Captain.”
“Got it. Always good to know where you’re going to piss,” he said in a feeble attempt at humor.
“Yes, sir.” Kozlowski’s face might as well have belonged to a sculpture. “Where should I put your food?”
Pete looked around and saw a small table near the bed. “It’ll be fine there, Warrant.”
“Sir.” Without ceremony or wasted motion, the beefy man placed the tray on the table.
“Will the Captain be needing anything else, sir?”
He shook his head, then checked himself. “Actually one thing, and then you’re dismissed, Kozlowski. You can tell me what your function is on this mission. There’s no way you would have been assigned to me just to make sure I get whatever I want to eat.”
Kozlowski’s face went perfectly blank. “They didn’t, sir, but I’m not at liberty to disclose that right now. It should be in your orders. Otherwise, I’ll explain when we arrive at Dusk.”
Pete frowned, but didn’t force the issue. “Okay, Kozlowski. What time’s breakfast?”
“Breakfast is available any time you’d like, Captain. The galley on board sets a pretty good table, if I say so myself.”
“Very well, Kozlowski. Dismissed.”
“Sir.”
For a large man, the warrant officer moved quickly and silently. Pete didn’t even hear the door close as he left.
With a sigh, he moved the small table closer to the desk and commanded it on. Once the display was up and running, he ordered, “Display all known information about planet Dusk.”
He popped the cover off the tray and was rewarded with a faceful of fragrant steam from the two large T-bone steaks, just cooked enough to be able to say they had been, the mashed potatoes covered in Cheddar cheese and sour cream, green beans, and two large dinner rolls. In one corner a thick tube rode, clipped to the tray. He picked it up and twisted the top. It immediately frosted and came away from the body. Tipping the cylinder up produced a stream of reddish-brown liquid that flowed into the chilled tumbler. He took a small sip, then a more robust one.
“Fresh-brewed iced tea. Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled.
“Your information is ready,” came a pleasant, soft feminine voice from behind him.
He jerked slightly and turned as fast as he dared without slopping tea all over the floor. The holoscreen bore the same
“Here are your quarters, sir.” Kozlowski waved at the palm scanner by the door. “It’s already keyed to your ’print, sir. Until this ship reaches Dusk, you’re the only one who can enter it.”
His eyebrows shot heavenward. “The only one?”
“As in the only one, Captain. Not even the Skipper can get in here without your say-so.”
The elaborate precautions made Pete a little uneasy. The last time he’d dealt with anything on the order of this cloak-and-dagger affair, a lot of good Marines had died over a few credits’ worth of uranium ore on a backwater planet most of Terra couldn’t locate if they had God Himself pointing the way. His neck prickled at the distinctly uncomfortable memory.
He supposed it always would.
Stepping around Kozlowski, he pressed his palm to the reader. It glowed a cold blue for a moment, then flashed a friendly green. The door slid into the wall, allowing him access to his quarters.
Apparently diplomats live well , he thought enviously. One whole wall of the suite opened out onto an expansive starscape. As he watched, the lower curve of the immense bulge of Jupiter slid by in the upper half of the wall. Tearing his eyes away from the gas giant, he took stock of his surroundings.
The bed was about the size of a California king, covered with a comforter in a busy silver pattern. Directly across from that, a small alcove contained a desk with a built-in reading light and a holo panel. On the left of the desk were two sliding doors that he guessed led into a closet. On the right was another door. He nodded at it and shot Kozlowski a quizzical look.
“The head, Captain.”
“Got it. Always good to know where you’re going to piss,” he said in a feeble attempt at humor.
“Yes, sir.” Kozlowski’s face might as well have belonged to a sculpture. “Where should I put your food?”
Pete looked around and saw a small table near the bed. “It’ll be fine there, Warrant.”
“Sir.” Without ceremony or wasted motion, the beefy man placed the tray on the table.
“Will the Captain be needing anything else, sir?”
He shook his head, then checked himself. “Actually one thing, and then you’re dismissed, Kozlowski. You can tell me what your function is on this mission. There’s no way you would have been assigned to me just to make sure I get whatever I want to eat.”
Kozlowski’s face went perfectly blank. “They didn’t, sir, but I’m not at liberty to disclose that right now. It should be in your orders. Otherwise, I’ll explain when we arrive at Dusk.”
Pete frowned, but didn’t force the issue. “Okay, Kozlowski. What time’s breakfast?”
“Breakfast is available any time you’d like, Captain. The galley on board sets a pretty good table, if I say so myself.”
“Very well, Kozlowski. Dismissed.”
“Sir.”
For a large man, the warrant officer moved quickly and silently. Pete didn’t even hear the door close as he left.
With a sigh, he moved the small table closer to the desk and commanded it on. Once the display was up and running, he ordered, “Display all known information about planet Dusk.”
He popped the cover off the tray and was rewarded with a faceful of fragrant steam from the two large T-bone steaks, just cooked enough to be able to say they had been, the mashed potatoes covered in Cheddar cheese and sour cream, green beans, and two large dinner rolls. In one corner a thick tube rode, clipped to the tray. He picked it up and twisted the top. It immediately frosted and came away from the body. Tipping the cylinder up produced a stream of reddish-brown liquid that flowed into the chilled tumbler. He took a small sip, then a more robust one.
“Fresh-brewed iced tea. Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled.
“Your information is ready,” came a pleasant, soft feminine voice from behind him.
He jerked slightly and turned as fast as he dared without slopping tea all over the floor. The holoscreen bore the same
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