"Yes, sir. The rest of the crew hasn't changed since the last run."
"Do you… ah… have any knowledge of the Zaid-Dayan s crew? If any debarked at Sector HQ?" Killin raised his eyebrows at Ford, and Ford shook his head quickly, then scribbled a note to him. Killin began drawling his answer as he read.
"Well, only what we heard, you know, back at Sector. Whole crew was ordered to appear here as potential witnesses or something, is what heard. Certainly didn't hear of anyone leaving the ship there."
Killin's grin at Ford was wolfish. He didn't like to lie, but this was not a lie. What Ford had told him in the week they'd been together was entirely separate from what he'd heard at Sector. More interesting, too.
"Very well. We will proceed with docking." Killin clicked the com off, and shook his head'at Ford.
"You're going to have to be lucky to get away with this. And that captain of yours shouldn't be so trigger-happy. Admirals! I've known a few I'd like to blow away, but actually doing it gives such a bad impression to the Promotion Board."
Ford maintained the cool reserve expected of a courier all the way through Customs, an ordeal usually reserved for civilians, but in this instance imposed in its full rigor on every Fleet member. He gave his name, his rank, his number, and his current posting: special orders to Fleet Headquarters, FedCentral.
"Last ship posting?" This was almost a snarl.
Ford allowed himself a faint, sad smile. "I'm sorry to say, the Zaid-Dayan. I understand it's been a problem to you?"
He dared not try to conceal this, any more than his real identity. But the Zaid-Dayan had arrived in port without him, with someone else listed as Sassinak's second-in-command. He had a slight chance.
If the Insystem Security officer had had movable ears, they'd have pricked. He could feel the interest.
"Ah. And you served with Commander Sassinak?"
"Some time back, yes."
His tone indicated that the further back in time that association slipped, the happier he would be. The Security officer did not relax, but his eyelids flicked.
"And have you had contact with Commander Sassinak since?"
"No. I had no reason to contact the Commander once I left her… command." Nothing so blatant as open hostility, just a chill. He had been glad to leave her command, and no backward glances.
"I see." The officer looked down at a datascreen Ford could not see. "This was before the Ireta incident?"
Ford nodded, tight-lipped, and muttered, "Yes."
They would have his files, but were unlikely to have the personnel history of the Zaid-Dayan.
"We show no ship assignments after that."
"I had special duty." It had indeed been special. "Plainclothes work; I'm afraid I cannot comment on it."
"Ah. Duration?"
"Nor that, I'm sorry." Ford's regret was genuine. He'd have liked to tell someone else about Madame Flaubert and her lapdog. "Some months, I can say."
"And you've had no contact with Iretans since that assignment?"
Really it was too easy, the way the man asked all the wrong questions. He didn't even have to lie.
"No. I reported directly, got my orders and boarded the next courier."
"Very well, then. We'll escort you to the next shuttle and to the Fleet offices. There's been some unrest because of the… unfortunate incidents."
Ford gathered the details of the unfortunate incidents, at least as they were known to the press, on his way downside. His escort, nervous at first but increasingly relaxed as Ford showed no inclination to leap up and act crazy, filled in what the news reports left out without adding any real information.
Sassinak had been onplanet and had killed someone. They were now fairly sure it was not Admiral Coromell. Ford let his eyebrows rise. She and the native Iretan had then disappeared, and nothing had been seen of them since,
"Dear me," he said, stifling a yawn. "How tiresome."
His escort delivered him safely to the front door of Fleet offices. Ford noticed that civilians did veer away from him, as if he might be contagious. The marines on guard at the door saluted briskly and let him inside. So far, so good, although he had no real idea what to do next. Still playing innocent courier, he reported to the officer on duty and mentioned that he had important evidence for the Iretan matter.
"You! You're from her ship! How in Hades did you get through?" The duty officer, a Tenant, had spoken loud enough to turn heads. Ford noticed the quick glances.
"Easy, there," he said quietly, smiling. "I broke no laws and created no ruckus. Shall we keep it that way? And how about announcing me to the Admiral?"
"Admiral Coromell?"
"That's right." He glanced around and saw the eyes fall before his like wheat whipped by wind. Something wrong in this office, too. "I believe Commander Sassinak would have told him I was coming."
"N-no, sir. The Admiral's been oflplanet, hunting over on Six. That's why we thought at first… why what they said… but the dead man wasn't Coromell…"
This made little sense. Ford tried to hack his way through the verbiage.
"Is the Admiral aboard now?"
"Well, no, sir, he's not. He's en route, I've been told. No ETA yet. He was out hunting at the time of the - of whatever happened. That's why no one could reach him, you see, and…"
"I see." Ford would gladly have choked this blath-erer, but he still had to find someone to share his information with. "Who's in charge, then?"
"Lieutenant Commander Dallish, but he's not available right now, sir. He was up all night, and he…"
Ford thought sourly that Dallish was probably a passed-over goofoff, lounging in bed in midafternoon just because he'd been up all night. Coromell had a good reputation, but if this office was any indication, he had quit earning that reputation some time back. He realized that the day's fatigues and surprises might have something to do with his attitude, but the planetside stinks had given him a headache. He wanted to hand over his highly important information, enjoy a decent fresh-cooked meal, and sleep. Now he could foresee that he was going to have to wait around for a lazy brother officer who would want to sit up and gossip about Sassinak. No. He would not play that game.
"Could you tell me where the Prosecutor's office is, then? I've got a hand delivery there, too."
The Tenant's ability to give clear directions met Ford's expectations, which were low. He accepted the offer of a marine guide and escort, and refused the suggestion that he would be less conspicuous in civilian clothes. He would take his evidence to the Prosecutor, he would find his own way back, by way of a decent restaurant. Surely the Prosecutor's staff would know of some.
By then, surely this Dallish would be awake, and if not… There was always a bunk in the Transient Officers Quarters. He had the uneasy feeling of being watched as he and his escort stepped onto the slideway, but shrugged it off. Of course he was being watched. The news had everyone paranoid about Fleet officers. But if he acted like a big, calm, bored errand-boy, nothing should happen to him.
Lunzie recognized his retreating back, but couldn't get Coromell's attention until Ford was out of sight.
"Who?" Coromell said, peering at the crowded slideway.
"Ford!" Lunzie was ready to cry with sheer frustration. It was impossible that everything could go so wrong. "Sassinak's Exec, from the Zaid-Dayan. He was here!"
"Omigod!" Dallish slammed his hand onto the window-frame "It's my fault. You'd told us he was coming, but I was still thinking he'd report to his ship first. He must've gotten to the Station after…"
"We'll find him. Just call down and ask the duty officer where he went."
But although he told Dallish where Ford was going, they could not find him again. All communications to the Prosecutor's office were blocked.