"Don't start calculating your profit margins just yet, Lieutenant," Blair said quietly. "Even that monster might not be enough to shut the Kilrathi down overnight."
He turned away, leaving Vaquero to frown over the words. Blair spotted Rollins and Cobra sitting together in a remote corner, well away from the rest of the crowd. He crossed the floor to join them.
"So . . . how's the espionage business today?" he asked flippantly. "Run any Kilrathi agents to ground yet?"
Cobra gave him an unpleasant look. "I know you don't take us seriously, Colonel."
"No, Lieutenant, you're wrong. I take you both very seriously. But you've been on this for . . . how longs it been? Over a week, now, isn't it? I'm just not sure there's anything there for you to find."
Rollins looked up at him. "Don't be so sure, Colonel," he said. "Two nights back, after we broke orbit, there was a two-minute dead space on one of my computer commo logs. And I can t account for it. I think it was sabotage."
"It could also have been a computer glitch," Blair pointed out. "You might have noticed that the systems on this ship are not exactly up to snuff." He paused. "Or, if it wasn't the computer, it might have been something to do with the admiral. He might've ordered a message sent, then had the record wiped."
"Nobody said anything about a transmission . . ."
"Nor would they, Lieutenant, if Admiral Tolwyn told them to keep quiet. You've said it yourself, Lieutenant. The brass don't tell us everything. And the admiral's always been particularly good at playing his hand close to his chest." Blair shrugged. "A little paranoia can be a good thing, but make sure you've discounted the other possibilities before you see sabotage every time the computer hiccups or the admiral decides to keep his laundry list classified."
"Yeah, maybe so," Rollins said. "But I've also been analyzing that original transmission. Some of the harmonics in the message are pretty wild, Colonel." He produced a personal data pad and called up a file on the screen. "Look at this . . . and this."
"I'm no expert in signals analysis, Lieutenant," Blair said. "To me, you've got a bunch of spikes on a graph. You want to tell me what they mean?"
"I'm not sure yet," Rollins admitted. "But I've seen these kinds of signals somewhere before . . . something outside of normal communications use. If I could just figure out where . . ." He trailed off, looking apologetic. "Sorry, Colonel I guess I still have a ways to go before I can deliver. But it isn't for want of trying, or for a lack of things to look into, either."
Blair looked again at the Behemoth, framed in the viewport. "I have to admit, if there was a spy around, he'd surely be interested in that thing. But I'd figure the admiral's staff would be the place to plant an agent."
"Hobbes is working with the staff," Cobra said quietly. "Or hadn't you noticed?"
Rollins stood up, looking uncomfortable. "I've got to be on watch in a little while. I'll catch you both later." He moved away quickly. Blair sat in the chair he'd vacated.
"It never stops with you, does it, Lieutenant?" he asked. "An endless program loop."
"You'd never understand, Colonel," she said, looking weary. "You just don't have a clue."
"'Maybe that's because you've never tried to explain it," he said bluntly. "Blind hatred isn't very pretty, or persuasive, either."
"It's the way I'm wired," she said. There was a long silence before she spoke again. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors. Some guys from the Hermes spread a lot of stories around. I used to have these . . . nightmares. People talked, you know how it is."
"Rumors don't always tell the whole story," Blair said.
"The stuff I heard was . . pretty accurate, I guess. Look, they took me when I was ten . . ."
"The Kilrathi?"
She nodded "I ended up in a slave labor camp. Escaped during a Confed attack ten years later. Most of the camp was destroyed in the fighting. Might have been the Navy's fault, might have been the cats, I don't know. But there were only a few of us who lived through it.
"It must have been —"
"You'll never have any idea of what it must have been' like, Colonel. I saw things . . ." She trailed off, shuddering. Her eyes were empty.
"So the Navy pulled you out of there . . . and you signed up?"
"The Psych guys spent a couple of years wringing me out," she said. "First it was debriefing . . . you know, regression therapy, trying to find out everything I'd seen and heard in case there was something worthwhile for Intelligence. Then they started on the therapy." She paused. "But they couldn't wipe it all out not without giving me a personality overlay. And I wouldn't let them do that. I'm Laurel Buckley, by God, and if the cats couldn't take that away I'm damned if my own kind will!"
"You must have been damned tough, Lieutenant, after something like that . . . to go on to join the fight . . ."
"It was all I ever wanted, Colonel. A chance to kill cats. And that's what I'm still doing today."
He gestured toward the Behemoth. "And if that thing puts an end to the war? What then?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Hating cats is the only way I know to keep myself human." She gave a short, grotesque laugh, an unnerving sound that reminded Blair of jeering Kilrathi. The fact is, Colonel, there's a little bit of the Kilrathi prowling around inside my skull and I can't get it out. Every day, I can feel it getting a little bit stronger . . . and one day, there won't be any human left inside me any more."
He didn't answer right away. "I think you aren't giving yourself enough credit, Lieutenant. You survived a horror most people could never handle. You'll outlive this, too. I'm sure of it."
Her look was bleak. "I hope you're right, Colonel. I really do. But . . . well, maybe you don't understand it, but I can't let go of the hate."
He thought of Angel, of the raw emotion that had surged through him when Thrakhath's taunts were ringing in his ears. "Maybe I do understand, Cobra. Maybe, in your place, I would have cracked up long ago."
She raised an eyebrow. "Cracked? You? I can't imagine you giving anybody the satisfaction of seeing you crack."
Blair didn't tell her that she was wrong.
"COUNTDOWN TO JUMP, ONE HOUR, FIFTEEN MINUTES."
Blair glanced up at the digital readout below the Flight Control Room window to confirm the time remaining. Activity was reaching a fever pitch aboard the carrier as they approached the jump point taking them to the Loki System. No one really expected the Kilrathi to have much in the way of defenses at their Loki outpost, but the preparations in hand assumed they would be jumping into a combat zone. With so much riding on the Behemoth, nobody wanted to make any mistakes.
Technicians prepped the fighters for launch working quickly but with a care born of long experience and a respect for the dangers of the flight deck. Red-shirted ordinance handlers busily fit missiles and checked fire-control circuits while engineering techs dressed in blue supervised the topping of fuel tanks. Thrusters were put through their final checks. The huge hangar area was one large scene of frantic action, and Blair felt like an outsider as he watched the crews go about their jobs.