"Sir, you said that Aristee hopes to destroy Earth, dismantle the Confederation, and take back what belongs to the Pilgrims," Angel said. "How does she intend to do that with just one super-cruiser? Why isn't she building a fleet?"
"We don't know. On the outset, her plan seems reckless. But she's a brilliant woman, not be underestimated. She's choosing her targets carefully in order to recruit Confed Navy personnel of Pilgrim ancestry. Maybe she'll begin building a fleet-or maybe the Kilrathi already have one waiting for her."
"I find it highly unlikely that she has access to shipbuilding facilities, unless you're about to tell me that the Trojan Yards and others now belong to the Pilgrims," Gerald said. "She may be working with the Kilrathi. That seems more reasonable."
"And now she's gathering people to crew those Kilrathi ships?" Angel asked. "Why doesn't she simply defect to the Kilrathi, strike a deal, and have the cats do her dirty work the same way Admiral Wilson did?"
"Yeah, but his deal with the Kilrathi went south," Jinxman reminded. "Maybe the cats won't bargain anymore."
Paladin nodded in understanding. "We should continue to speculate on her plans, and I encourage your input on the matter in person or through the data net. But our mission now is to stop her and recover that ship, and we've been authorized to use whatever means necessary to accomplish those goals. Questions?"
"Sir, we're talking about a possible Pilgrim conspiracy," Marine Lieutenant Andover asked. "How will security handle this?"
"I'll post details of what's being done on the fleet level as soon as I'm notified. As far as the Claw is concerned, it's business as usual."
Even Blair had to frown at that.
"But there could be Pilgrim saboteurs aboard this ship," Andover challenged. "And no offense, sir, but rumor has it that you're a Pilgrim yourself."
"You're out of line," Gerald said, glowering at the Marine.
"No, she's just curious," Paladin corrected. "Yes, I descend from
Pilgrims. In fact, I could be a saboteur. If it makes you feel more comfortable to place me under guard, then by all means do so. However, I should mention that your skipper's had people watching me since the moment I hit the flight deck." He shot Gerald a black smile. "I won't attempt to prove my loyalty in this room. But let's get out there, then I'll show you whose side I'm on. Deal?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm also a Pilgrim," Blair said, launching to his feet. He turned to face the others. "You can place me under guard as well."
"Sit down, Lieutenant," Gerald ordered. "Most of us are already aware of your heritage."
Blair complied as Angel quickly added, "Lieutenant Blair single-handedly saved our entire squadron today. I respectfully suggest that anyone who needs more proof should first submit to a psyche ops evaluation."
"All right, enough," snapped Gerald. "The last thing we want to do is create an atmosphere of paranoia. Just keep your people informed and do your jobs. Dismissed."
As the group dispersed, Blair sensed that no one had really been satisfied by the briefing, that it had probably created more questions than it had answered. However, one question remained that Paladin could answer. Blair hurried to catch the commodore, who had exchanged a few words with Gerald and now moved to the hatch. "Sir?"
"Hello again, Lieutenant. We seem to keep running into each other during times of crisis. Who's got the bad luck? You or me?"
Blair flashed a smile. "As a junior officer, I assume responsibility for the bad luck, sir."
"As you should," he said with mock seriousness. "And we should make this brief to avoid more rumors."
"I can deal with that. Guess if I wasn't a Pilgrim, I'd be suspicious, too. Admiral Tolwyn told me that the wounds of civil war run deep. He was right."
"He usually is. Well, you look good, Mr. Blair. And it's a pleasure to see you again. Now, if you'll excuse me-"
"Sir, I have to ask. Do they know about you and Amity?"
He paused, his eyes growing reflective. "The admiral does. Probably why he wants me on this. Sometimes you can fall in love with someone and never really know them. But her? I really thought I knew her."
Blair watched him go, taking with him memories so vivid that he probably lived more in them now than anywhere else. Those memories had taken up residence in his shadow, in his heart, in his dreams. Blair worried for the man and wished there was more he could do.
"Are you going to stand there all morning? Or are you going to have breakfast with me?"
He turned, his heart missing a beat as he stared at Angel, alone and beaming at him. "Yes, ma'am."
"That's very good, Lieutenant. You're learning."
"I'm a quick study," he said, raising his brows.
She shuffled past him. "There's a lot to learn."
7
VEGA SECTOR DRY QUADRANT.CS OLYMPUS.MIDPOINT LAFAYETTE AND TAMAYO SYSTEMS.
2654.082.1430 HOURS CONFEDERATION STANDARD TIME
William Santyana swore at the two Pilgrim Marine guards who had escorted him from the flight deck to his quarters, then he slammed the hatch in their faces. He entered the main living area and threw his helmet at the viewport. It bounced off the Plexi and hit the floor with a clang that sent Lacey running into the room. "Daddy?" The three-year-old looked at the helmet. "Why'd you throw that?"
"Daddy's just mad, honey. That's all."
"Will?" Pris appeared in the narrow corridor that led to the bedroom. She wore a white robe made of a fabric that resembled silk, though it lacked the luster. Pictorial symbols Santyana recognized as Pilgrim "storicals" had been stitched into the hem, sleeves, and collar of the robe, forming an ornate, multicolored border. The storicals told stories about the first Pilgrims and had been modeled after Egyptian hieroglyphs. "Well, they finally got us some clothes," Pris said.
Only then did he realize that Lacey wore an identical robe that perfectly fit her tiny frame. He hunkered down to the little girl. "Do you like that robe?"
She nodded. "The nice lady gave it to me."
"Well, you'll have to take it off." He looked to Pris. "And you, too."
"But we don't have any other clean clothes. Unless you'd like your daughter to run around naked. They gave us these robes, we'll wear them. You will, too. Besides, the woman who dropped them off said they're made of ko'a'ka; it's supposed to have a calming effect on the central nervous system. I do feel more at peace now."
"That's funny, considering the war this bitch is waging."
Pris tipped her head toward Lacey. "Watch your language."
He exhaled loudly, stood, and massaged his temples. "She made me fly against Confederation fighters. They lost an entire squadron when we jumped."
"You told me."
"And now she's got me flying patrols."
"You told me that, too." She came to him, buried her head in his shoulder. "Stop thinking about it. Just do what she says. Please, Will. For Lacey's sake. We can deal with this. We can. I'm starting to understand these people."
He gripped her shoulders, shifted her back. "How?"
"They took us to a meeting today."