He watched the inner hatch seal shut. Only then did he let his body go a little slack, leaning forward to place his forehead on the steering wheel. They’d spent four hours driving around the city. It seemed like a lifetime, without a single moment where threats, or potential threats, to the Duke’s safety weren’t all around.
Even now, his job wasn’t done. He still had to make sure the car was screened for bombs or other booby traps that might have been planted during their close contact with the protestors. It also needed to be scanned for bugs.
He climbed out of the car, put his fists on his hips, and stared at it. He felt he should personally supervise the security sweep on the car, but he had to start trusting the new people at some point. Maybe today was the day. He touched the plug in his ear. “Timms. I need a full security sweep on limo two.”
“I’m on it, Mr. Paxton,” said the voice in his ear. “Long-sword”—that was their radio code for the Duke—“is in a planning session with Ms. Cisco, and says to tell you he won’t be needing you for the rest of the day. He seems to think you could use a break.”
Ulysses grinned. “The Duke is a perceptive man. Call me if anything comes up. Otherwise I’ll see you at eight.”
“Sure thing, sir.”
He tapped the earpiece, breaking the connection. He reached up and took it from his ear, then held the device in his open palm, looking at it for a while. Then he slipped it back in. “No rest for the watchers,” he said.
“Hard day at the office, Paxton?”
Ulysses turned to see Captain Clancy leaning just inside the airlock door. He frowned, wondering what the captain wanted with him.
Clancy grinned at him. “Don’t be like that. We’re on the same team now. Buy you a drink?”
Ulysses studied the captain’s grizzled face, and didn’t detect any subterfuge there. “Sure.”
He followed Clancy to one of the three main elevators and they rode up to officers’ country. They went to the officers’ mess, which was nearly deserted at this hour.
Like most of the ship’s workspaces, the mess was more functional than luxurious. There were a few amenities, though: folding wooden tables and chairs here, rather than the metal-and-plastic ones in the crew’s mess; real china and silver—at least when they weren’t in free fall; and the serve-yourself drink and snack-food areas were generally better stocked. But it wasn’t much.
Clancy walked over to the drink area and bent down to reach a small refrigerator built in under the counter. The door was protected by a coded lock. Ulysses had seen it before and wondered about it. Clancy tapped in the code, opened the door, and took out a tall amber bottle. It was a very expensive brand of ale that Ulysses recognized as coming from the Duke’s private stock. He decided it would be better not to speculate how the captain got his.
Clancy held out the bottle to him.
Ulysses shook his head. “I’ll take some herbal tea. I don’t drink.”
Clancy raised an eyebrow. “Do tell?” He closed the fridge and unscrewed the top on the bottle. He took a swig, and looked over at the hot-water dispenser. “I’ll buy”—he grinned—“but you got to make it.”
Ulysses walked over and punched the button on the hot-water dispenser, put a cup under the spigot, and rummaged through the wooden box where the tea bags were kept.
Clancy watched him. “Don’t drink, huh?”
“Corrupts the body, and the mind.” He glanced at the captain. “No offense.”
“None taken. I’m pretty durned corrupted all right.” He raised the bottle to Ulysses, then took another swig.
Ulysses dropped a tea bag into his cup, and then looked back at Clancy. “What’s this all about, Captain?”
Clancy turned two chairs around to face each other, then sat down in one and put his feet up, legs crossed, in another. “Shop talk, I guess. You and me are pretty much in the same business now. Different ways of doing it is all. Both of us moving the Duke around, trying to keep his hide in one piece.”
Ulysses watched as the cup filled with steaming water. The scents of orange and cinnamon filled his nose. He took the cup and sat down at one of the empty tables near Clancy. “You just called him ‘Duke’.”
“So? He is one, ain’t he?”
“Yeah. But you called him, ‘Duke’.”
Clancy grinned. “You mean, instead of ‘Duck’?”
“Yeah.”
Clancy’s grin got even bigger. He made a show of looking around the empty room. “Well, he ain’t here, is he?”
Ulysses smiled and shook his head. “You should really show him more respect.”
“If I didn’t respect who he was, and what he could do, he wouldn’t still be on this ship.”
“Then why not—?”
“Kowtow to the big man, like the rest of you? Because he’s a giant walking ego who needs somebody to keep him in line. He knows that—part of him, anyway. That’s why he puts up with me.”
Ulysses sipped his tea. He was too discreet to say that Clancy was right.
“So,” said Clancy, “as one fellow in the same business to another, what do you think our chances are?”
“Of keeping the Duke safe?”
“Yeah, I reckon.”
He took a deep breath and considered. Finally he said, “My professional opinion is that the Duke is a dead man. It isn’t a question of if, but of when.”
The captain nodded. “That’s what I figured.”
“You? Same opinion? As a professional, of course.”
The captain held his bottle up to the light, and studied the little drops running through the condensation on the sides. “My brain says that, but my gut says different. Duke Sandoval, he’s harder to kill than a Chichibu cockroach. He won’t go down easy.”
“No,” agreed Ulysses, “he won’t.”
“But this big plan of his, I don’t see it ending pretty. Things are going to get messy.”
Ulysses nodded slowly. “Agreed. It all ends badly.” He took another sip of tea.
Clancy took two big swallows of his ale.
“So,” said Ulysses, “if that’s the way you feel, why are you letting us stay on this ship?”
Clancy shrugged. “Nobody lives forever. My worst nightmare is to die old and in bed—that the day will come when me”—he glanced upward—“and this ship have to part company—by hook, or by crook—or I just can’t handle her no more. Whatever happens with the Duke, I reckon it’s going to be interesting.”
“I’d say so.”
“What about you? Man with your skills, he could find some rich guy who only thinks everybody is out to get him. Get set up real sweet.”
Ulysses grinned. “Well, I do want to live forever…”
Clancy held up the bottle. “Drink some of this; you won’t live forever, but you won’t care.”
Ulysses chuckled. “It’s like you said. It’s going to be interesting. Maybe I’ll come out on the other side, maybe not. If I’m as good as I think I am, I’ll survive. Can you understand that?”
“You ever see a rodeo, Paxton?”
“As a matter of a fact, I have.”
“Cowboy doesn’t prove nothing riding on a broke-down nag. Man wants to ride a bronco breathing fire, with blood in his eye and murder in his heart. Anything else just don’t count.”
“Well. I guess we’ll see who gets bucked off first.”
“We will at that.” He raised his bottle to Ulysses. “Toast.”
Ulysses raised his glass in return.
“To the ride,” said Clancy.
“And,” added Ulysses, “the inevitable fall at the end.”
Clancy laughed as bottle clinked against teacup. “I’ll drink to that.”
Just then the intership link on Clancy’s belt activated. “Bridge to Captain. The Duke wishes to speak with you.”