"And he's recruited you to be a spy. Am I correct, Lieutenant?"
The commodore's quick deduction and ironic tone put Blair at ease. "Yes, sir. I just want to do my duty, sir."
"And so you shall. You may spy all you wish. I have nothing to hide. And I take no offense."
"Thank you, sir. Sorry for bothering you. Oh, just one more thing. Who do you think are Gerald's sources?"
"Don't know. A few people aboard must have been aware and finally came forward. Could have been anyone who knew us back then. Just bad luck. I figured it would eventually get out, but I had no intention of volunteering it."
"Yes, sir. Sorry again." He switched off the terminal.
"You talking to your mystic Pilgrim mentor again?" Maniac asked through a yawn.
"I was talking to Commodore Taggart, who, if he heard you call him that, would tear you a new asshole."
"You're a bit sensitive. Feeling achy and bloated, too?"
Blair returned to his cot. "I feel like a serial killer with a fetish for blond pilots."
"Speaking of fetishes, did you know that Zarya-"
"I don't want to hear it," Blair snapped.
Later that day, at the Combat Assessment Meeting, Angel flung Maniac's ego around the room, bounced it off bulkheads, then shoved it back down his throat for the stunt he had pulled over Lethe. That didn't surprise Blair. But when she turned and gave him a similar tongue-lashing for going after Maniac, embarrassment stole his voice. He finally said, "Ma'am. I didn't want to abandon my wingman."
"Don't twist the situation, Lieutenant. Your wingman had abandoned you. You should have remained in position and continued supplying fire support for us. You failed to do that. And while the captain has made you a command-approved wing commander, I've yet to see any evidence that you deserve the job. You're not on your team, Mr. Blair. You're on ours. Thought you knew that. Thought wrong."
"Ma'am, if Lieutenant Marshall's fighter became disabled within the atmosphere, there wouldn't have been anyone close enough to retrieve him."
"I wonder if Lieutenant Marshall thought about that before abandoning his position?" She leered at Maniac, who flushed and sprang to his feet.
"I was thinking about all those little kids out playing in their yards. They would look up, see a bright light, then burst into flames. Lots of little bodies running around, turning into crispy critters. I know all about regs and duty, ma'am. And if you want to dismiss me for being insubordinate and put me on report, I'll understand. But when it comes down to it, our job is to save lives. And for one goddamned time I'd like to do that without getting my ass chewed out."
To Blair's surprise, the rest of squadron broke into spontaneous applause. Cheddarboy and Gangsta actually stood, inspiring Bishop and Sinatra to join them. Hunter, no friend of Maniac's, remained seated, as did Blair and Zarya, though Blair expected Zarya to stand. He guessed that she didn't want to thrust her affection for Maniac into Angel's face.
"All right, sit down," Angel ordered. "That's a very moving little rap you got there, Maniac. I can't ignore the fact that you stopped the torpedo and did save lives. And I can't ignore the fact that you disobeyed orders to do so. Which is why I'm confining you to quarters until we reach the Blytheheart jump point. No visitors other than your bunkmate. You'll be allowed out for sim work and briefings. That's it. I think you need the time to consider your future as a Confederation aviator. Any questions?"
"Just one," Maniac said.
Here it comes, Blair thought.
"Have you ever disobeyed a direct order so that you could do what you knew was right?"
"Yes, Lieutenant. More than once. And each time I paid the price. As will you."
"This is bullshit," Maniac mumbled.
"What was that?" Angel asked.
Manic shook his head disgustedly and waved off her question.
After the meeting, Blair remained in his seat while the others filed out. Angel gathered up her files and data disks, then noticed him. "You have a question, Lieutenant?"
"Yes, ma'am. How are you?"
"Haven't we been here before?"
He got to his feet and homed in on her. "You seem tired. Angry, even. Anything I can do?"
She gazed longingly at the exit hatch. "Unless you have something regarding the assessment, Lieutenant, you'll have to cut me loose."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am. I think something's bothering you, and you're taking it out on me and Maniac." Blair didn't believe that, but he suspected he would get a rise out of her.
And the deep lines of incredulity that mapped out her face confirmed his suspicions. "The only thing bothering me right now is Maniac's attitude. And yours. You seem to think that only end results count, that the chain of command doesn't matter, that protocol doesn't matter. You should've become mercenaries instead of military pilots. I finally got around to reading your flight school evals. They're pretty good, which surprises me given your recent behavior. You might've had them fooled, but you can't fool me. You told me that you had a reputation for being a by-the-book flyer. What happened out there?"'
"Maniac's a major pain in the ass, but I still kind of like him. If I had a sister, I wouldn't let him near her, but when it comes to the Kilrathi, he's a pit bull on my wing. Yeah, he's unpredictable and unreliable. But he racks up the kills. And maybe when it comes down to it, surviving is the only thing that counts."
"If he doesn't square himself away, he won't survive. Start preparing for that now."
He narrowed his gaze. "Is that what you're doing with me?"
"Are we finished, Lieutenant?" Angel checked her watch-phone. "I have a stack of fire-to-kill ratio reports waiting for me."
"Why do you keep shutting me out?"
"Good day, Lieutenant."
Blair noticed a definite slump to her shoulders as she took off. He thought back to the time he had gone to her quarters and she had told him how she had gotten close to Lieutenant Commander Vince "Bossman" Chen. They hadn't been lovers but the best of friends. Then Bossman had died, and she had lost faith in relationships and distrusted getting close to anyone. She had instituted an unwritten policy that said those who died in combat never existed. If you asked after a fallen comrade, the response would be "Who?" Blair had taken exception to the policy, and when Rosie Forbes had died, he believed that he had penetrated Angel's shield and had made her feel the pain of Forbes's loss. You couldn't just bury your grief. You had to deal with it and use it to make you stronger. No complex psychiatry involved there.
But maybe he hadn't changed Angel at all. Maybe she wouldn't get close because she still feared having to deal with that loss. He understood her response, but he couldn't let her push him away when he believed that behind her mental bulwark lay untapped feelings for him. He wasn't being immodest. He had seen the look in her eyes when they had revived her after she had ejected in her pod. He had moved in for the kiss, and she had been willing to accept it. Then a medic had come between them. Now her own fear created an equally powerful barrier.
"And she escapes once more," Merlin said, sitting a meter away on a recliner of air, his boots propped up on an invisible footrest. "I've quite enjoyed sitting here, watching you stumble around her like an adolescent. Call me an armchair Romeo, but I think you're going about this all wrong. I could fill you in on my observations of Commander Deveraux, but you refuse to take any more advice. So here we are, you with the long face, me with the new pastime."
"All right. You think you've got a clue about women? Tell me." Blair folded his arms over his chest.
The hologram wearily pushed himself up from his recliner, groaning as he massaged the small of his back, then stood. "Begin, well, at the beginning. Jeanette Deveraux became an orphan during the Pilgrim war. She doesn't know what side her parents were on or who killed them. Maybe it's a bit presumptuous of me, but I hacked into the worldcom database before we left for Mylon. I performed a search of the interplanetary genealogy database."