“We’ll leave at once,” the captain told her.
“Almost at once.” Skip sat down on the bed, with his submachine gun across his lap. “Please let me introduce myself. My name’s Skip Grison.”
“I know that,” the brunet said. “I’m Nan Olivera.”
“You know our captain? Captain Kain?”
“I know who he is.”
The captain cleared his throat. “I don’t get to see as much of the passengers in this class as I would like, Ms. Olivera. You’re here with Sergeant Kent-Jermyn?”
She nodded. “We’re contracted. I—well, I know that Mr. Grison is contracted with Mastergunner Blue, the woman they’re searching for. I don’t think I’ve said I forgive him yet, but I do. I know Gerald would look for me until he was too tired to stand up.”
She turned back to Skip. “You are, you know. You ought to see yourself.”
He shrugged. “Nothing a few hours’ sleep won’t fix. You spoke of the sergeant a moment ago. You called him Gerald?”
“Yes. That’s his name.”
“I know it is. Don’t you call him Jerry sometimes? I thought people did.”
“Oh, no! He hates it. I’ve got—sometimes I use a pet name, only never in public. I won’t tell you what it is.”
“Not even if it might help us find Chelle? Find Mastergunner Blue? Because it might. You could whisper it, if you like.”
The brunet’s mouth opened, then closed again.
“I’ll go,” the captain said. “I’m sure Mr. Johnson will, too.”
Johnson nodded.
“Will you promise never to tell anybody? All three of you? It’s supposed to be something private between Gerald and me.”
Johnson said, “I promise.”
Captain Kain added, “We all do.”
“All right. It’s Pickle. That’s what his mother called him when he was little, only she’d never tell me why. But I’ve called him that ever since, when … You know. When we’re in bed and like that.”
“I see. There was a party—”
He was interrupted by a familiar voice. “Hello! May I come in?”
The brunet stood up. “Aren’t you Mastergunner Blue’s mother? That’s what somebody said.”
“Yes, indeed!” Vanessa’s smile would have charmed a queen. “I remember you from the party, Nan. You were the prettiest girl there.”
“Oh, I wasn’t! But come in, please. I’m surprised you remember me at all. We only met for a minute or two.”
“I could never forget you,” Vanessa declared. She took Skip’s hand. “I said I had to talk to you, remember? It was during that meeting. I’ve been waiting for you to call, but you didn’t, so I went looking for you. Raimundo told me you’d gone in here—Raimundo’s the steward on this deck, and very nice.”
“I’m sure he is. That party you mentioned a moment ago—the one at which you met Ms. Olivera. Was that the one you arranged for the soldiers?”
“Yes, of course. It was a very nice party, if I do say so myself.”
“Who issued the invitations?”
“Polly did. Polly Lutz.”
“She decided who to invite?”
“No,” Vanessa said, “I did that.”
The brunet smiled. “Thank you for inviting us. We had a super time. I want to apologize for not searching for your daughter, but Gerald didn’t want me to. He said there were plenty of searchers, and it could end in another gunfight.” She paused for a deep breath. “So I stayed in here. I’m sorry now that I did.”
Vanessa kissed her cheek. “Don’t you worry. We’ll find her.”
Skip had been dialing Susan. Having been informed that her phone was out of service, he flipped his own shut. “I apologize to everyone here. This has been a mess, and I made it. Virginia has an urgent matter to discuss, and I put it on the back burner for this. I made Rick and Captain Kain look like fools and I can only hope they’ll forgive me for it. I am the fool, not they. We broke in on Ms. Olivera—”
“Call me Nan, please.”
“We broke in on Nan and terrified her, and I regret it more than I can say.”
The captain cleared his throat. “This cruise has been disastrous, and it’s my fault. The hijackers caught me flatfooted, something that won’t happen again if I live to be a thousand.”
Skip said, “There will be lawsuits, none of which will involve me. For your company’s sake, you should be careful about what you say.”
Johnson grinned. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
Vanessa added, “Hear what?”
“I won’t sue anybody,” Nan Olivera said. “I don’t think Gerald will, either.”
Captain Kain smiled. “You know, I’ve been neglecting my duties. I’m afraid I’ve let the hijacking push my day-to-day job out of my mind. We have some empty staterooms in first class, and we normally upgrade a few second-class passengers to fill those. Would you like to upgrade, Nan? You’d have a sauna and a veranda—and a lot more room, of course.”
“I’d love it! I’m sure Gerald would, too.”
“I’ll see to it, and send your steward to help you move. He’ll have your new cabin card, and it will get you into the first-class dining room.”
Skip motioned to Vanessa, and they left together.
“Where shall we talk?” she whispered.
“Out on deck, if that’s agreeable to you.” He sighed. “I’ve a touch of claustrophobia. It rarely bothers me, but with so many people in that tiny cabin…”
“We could go to your stateroom. Out on your veranda?”
“No.” Skip had started up the stairs. “People on the neighboring verandas could overhear us, and we couldn’t see them listening.”
The sun was bright and warm, the sea sparkling like sapphire, and the big ship heeling to a whistling wind. Skip found them seats in the shade, well away from any listeners.
“You said you told Polly whom to invite. This was a party for soldiers on leave?”
“For anyone who’d been in service.” Although her careful coiffeur was whipping in the wind, Vanessa smiled. “Did you see our announcement? It was in the Bulletin.”
“I suppose I did. I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
“The computer’s got a register of passengers, and the soldiers on leave are listed under their military titles—their honorifics, or whatever you call it. Private so-and-so. Chelle was Mastergunner Chelle Sea Blue. Like that.”
Skip nodded.
“So those were easy to find. I had Amelia contact a few and get the names of some who’d been discharged, and I put that announcement in, and after that I listed everybody and had Polly send invitations. Amelia watched the door, and each of them could bring a guest. Just one. Only some who’d seen my announcement or been told about it just dropped by. If they could show they’d been in the service, Amelia let them in.”
“Do you remember the names you gave Polly?”
“All of them?” Vanessa shook her head.
“Some of them.”
“Yes, certainly. Quite a lot, actually.”
“I’m looking for a man called Jerry. Was there anyone?”
“Ah! I see. Is this to get Chelle back?”
“Yes. Please help if you can.”
“But you won’t tell me what’s going on for fear I’ll be hurt.”
Skip had put on his sunglasses and was studying small white clouds that rode the west wind; he muttered, “That’s close enough.”
“I’d like to get closer. Why?” Vanessa’s hand found his. “Don’t you trust me, Skip? After all we’ve been through?” It was a firm little hand, and it held his tightly.
“I do, but I don’t trust Reanimation. If they get you, they’ll have your mind on their computer. I don’t know how deeply they’ll look into it, but they may find memories they can use to damage Chelle. Or to damage me. We’ll be trying to get you back, and they’ll twist our arms, if they can, to make us stop. Do you recall inviting anyone called Jerry?”