“No, sir. She’s mined what we have for all that can be found. Once we get home and acquire more resources, I am confident she will be able to produce the sort of material we’re looking for.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Geary said, as an alert blinked for his attention. He ended the call to Smythe and tapped to accept the new call from the bridge of Dauntless.
Tanya Desjani gave him one of her I’m-tolerating-this-but-not-liking-it looks. “The freighter the locals sent to pick up former enigma prisoners is matching movement to Haboob.”
The former enigma prisoners. Humans captured over at least decades, some from Syndic ships that had mysteriously vanished, some from planets in star systems that the enigmas had taken over. There were more than three hundred of them aboard Haboob. Three hundred thirty-three, to be exact, a number that the prisoners said had been kept constant and so must have meant something to the enigmas. Figuring out what to do with those people was an ongoing headache, but eighteen of them had asked to be left off at Midway because they had either lived here or at the nearby star Taroa.
Agreeing to that hadn’t been an easy decision, either. The rulers of Midway claimed to be no longer despotic Syndics but could easily just be stringing Geary along for their own purposes. “Where is Dr. Nasr?”
“Physically on-scene aboard Haboob,” she replied.
“Good. Can you join me in the conference room to watch this go down? I want to link in with Dr. Nasr.”
“We could do that on the bridge,” Desjani complained. “Oh, you want a less public location in case something unpleasant happens when we try to hand over some of those head cases the enigmas kept locked up?”
“Yes, Captain,” Geary said patiently. “They’re head cases because the enigmas kept them locked up. Let’s not forget that.”
“Aye, Admiral. See you in the conference room in ten.”
He made it to the conference compartment well short of ten minutes later and found Tanya already there. “Have the Syndic—I mean, have the Midway shuttles docked yet?”
She shrugged. “I’d know if I were on the bridge…”
“You know anyway.”
“Damn. You know me too well.” Desjani waved the way inside. “The first Midway shuttle docks in two minutes.” She sat down, tapping out the commands that brought the display above the table to life. Virtual windows popped up, one showing a wide-angle view of the hangar deck on the assault transport Haboob.
The main display zoomed in on Haboob, the exterior shot automatically compiled by the fleet’s sensors from every warship with a view of that transport. The Midway freighter hung near Haboob, the two ships apparently unmoving against the background of infinite stars and infinite space. Even after so many years in space driving ships, Geary always had to remind himself that the ships, which looked motionless, were actually traveling at great speed as they orbited the star Midway. It was only because of the huge distances involved and the lack of anything nearby to scale their movement against that they appeared still.
Four shuttles were on their way to Haboob, making the short crossing from the freighter to the Alliance transport.
“I thought we were only dropping off eighteen of the former enigma prisoners,” Desjani remarked. “That’s a lot of shuttles for eighteen human passengers.”
“They’re unusual passengers,” Geary replied. He checked the manifest for each shuttle, seeing a long list of medical and technical personnel as well as a couple of security officers on each craft. “Only two cops per shuttle. I expected more.”
“From Syndics, yeah,” she agreed, peering at the manifests. “Maybe some of those docs and techs are security muscle, too.”
“Maybe.” Desjani didn’t trust the people here. He didn’t entirely trust them, either. He could only hope that the home the former prisoners sought to return to would treat them better than the enigmas had.
Dr. Nasr’s image appeared in a separate window. “Admiral.” He acknowledged Geary. “Captain,” he said to Desjani.
“How are you feeling about this?” Geary asked.
“The best option from a lot of less-than-perfect options,” Nasr replied. “I still believe that.”
Desjani grimaced. “I can’t imagine wanting to go back under control of the Syndics.”
“But they are Syndics,” the doctor said. “Their families live here or nearby. And Midway is no longer ruled by the Syndics, so even those who once seemed hesitant are now eager to return to their native stars. I have talked to all eighteen within the last hour, and I am convinced all sincerely wish to leave us here.”
“Then we will respect their wishes,” Geary said. That would only leave three hundred fifteen more former enigma prisoners to deal with somehow. “I wish we had been able to find out why the enigmas had kept the number of prisoners at exactly three hundred thirty-three,” he commented to Tanya Desjani.
She snorted. “Add that to the list. We found out damned little about the enigmas except that they’re insanely protective of any information about them. We’re breaking up the enigmas’ little number game, though. It would probably drive them crazy if they knew,” Tanya added in a way that made it clear the prospect of inflicting mental anguish on enigmas didn’t bother her at all. “Are you sure the people here will treat well the former prisoners we’re dropping off and won’t treat them all like lab rats?”
“No.”
The single word might have inspired another comment from Desjani, but the way he said it made her glance at him and remain silent. She had come to know him pretty well, too.
The video feed from the assault transport Haboob provided crystal-clear images of what must be the entire group of former prisoners clustered together in the transport’s starboard loading area. Having spent so long confined in their small world and knowing only themselves, the people freed from the enigmas tended to bunch together at all times since their liberation. Now they formed a tight group in which the eighteen who were to leave the others could be marked by the small Alliance fleet duffel bags they carried, which held the tiny amount of personal possessions they had brought from their asteroid prison or acquired on the voyage back here.
The Marines standing guard around the edges of the loading area were relaxed, talking among themselves. The former prisoners of the enigmas had caused no trouble since arriving on Haboob, acting as if they feared the slightest misstep would result in their being sent back to their confinement. That anxiety had caused the fleet medical personnel no end of anguish as they tried to reassure their patients, but as far as the Marines responsible for good order and discipline aboard Haboob were concerned, it had made their job a lot easier.
Lights glowed above four main hatches into the loading area as the Midway shuttles finished docking and sealed their own accesses to the transport’s. The Alliance Marines stiffened into alert postures as the lights came on, fingering the weapons they held. The Midway shuttles had been built by the Syndicate Worlds and were piloted and crewed by men and women who had fought for the Syndicate Worlds. No one on Haboob was going to relax while those shuttles and those men and women were aboard.
The civilian specialists from Midway came out first. Someone had been smart enough not to lead with military personnel. A group led by Dr. Nasr went forward to meet them. Geary didn’t bother zooming in on the meeting or activating audio from Dr. Nasr’s feed. Even from a distance the routine nature of introductions and the sizing up of each other that occurred whenever two groups of experts met could be easily made out.