“But - “ Sassinak stopped herself; if she protested, he’d have reason to think she knew more. Yet she wasn’t near ready to accuse Achael of involvement with Abe’s death… how could she? No matter how it came out, she’d lose: ensigns don’t get anywhere accusing lieutenants of murder months back and somewhere else.
Cavery waited, his expression clearly daring her to object.
“I know,” she said finally, “that Captain Fargeon has to be informed. But he’s not on the bridge, and I don’t… really… want to involve any more officers than necessary.”
“I remember whose number was on those quad-coded messages. Ensign Sassinak - “ Cavery nodded toward the main bridge area. “You needn’t try to be obscure.”
“Sorry, sir. I wasn’t trying to be obscure, I was just - “ She paused, as near waving her hands in confusion as she’d ever been. Then inspiration hit. She saw by Cavery’s expression that her own had changed with her idea. “Sir, if all this ties together, right now is a bad time to go charging out of here to the captain, isn’t it? And if it doesn’t, it would still… confuse things, wouldn’t it?”
Cavery leaned back fractionally, considering. “You have a point.” He sighed, and cleared the display. “I can’t see that it would hurt to wait until midwatch break, anyway, and maybe later. Depends on the captain’s schedule.”
Sassinak said nothing more, but settled to her work. Thank whatever gods there were she hadn’t meddled with the Personnel files or the message banks: Achael didn’t know she suspected anything. Assignment coincidence? What else could it be, when she had no powerful family to pull strings for her… or had that been Abe’s secret, perhaps? More than ever, she needed to see Achael’s file, but how was she going to do that?
The shattering clamor of the emergency alarm brought her upright. Fast as she was, Cavery’s hand almost covered hers as they shut the console down for normal use and flicked on the emergency systems. After the first blast of noise, the siren warbled up, down, up twice: evacuation drill.
“Stupidest damn drill in the book,” grumbled Cavery as he fished under the console for the emergency masks. “Here - put this on. Nobody ever evacuates a cruiser; as long as it takes to get everyone in the shuttles and evac pods, whatever it is will have blown the whole place up. Now remember. Ensign, you close the board when you leave, and that’s not until the duty officer clears the bridge.” His voice was muffled, now, through the foil and plex hood and mask. Sassinak found that hers cut off all vision to the side and rear. As she fastened the tabs to the shoulders of her uniform, Cavery grunted. “Ah, good: Fargeon’s taken the bridge. Soon as this damn drill’s over, we can get this other taken care of - “ His voice sharpened. “Yes, sir; communications secured, sir.”
Although Cavery’s acid comments implied that pirates could have boarded the ship and flown it to the far side of the galaxy before their turn came, Sassinak thought it wasn’t long at all before she was jogging forward along the main portside corridor from the bridge to the transport bays where the shuttles and evac pods were docked. A stream of hooded figures jogged her way, and another jogged back; once you were logged into your assigned evacuation slot, you had to return to your duty post. It did seem illogical. She looked again at the strip of plastic giving her assigned pod: E-40-A. Here, along a side corridor, through a narrow passage she’d never explored. Bay E: someone in full EVA gear glanced at her assignment strip and waved her to the right; section 40 was the last one at the end. Someone else, also suited up, pointed out Pod A, one of a row of hatches still dogged shut. Sassinak struggled with the hatch lock, checked to see that the telltales were all green, and pulled the heavy lid open. Inside the little brightly lit compartment, she could see the shape of an acceleration couch, shiny fittings, a bank of switches and lights.
She ducked her head to clear the hatch opening. Suddenly a sharp pain jabbed her arm, and when she tried to turn it felt like the weight of the whole cruiser landed on her head. She could do nothing but fall forward into darkness.
Commander Fargeon in a rage was no pleasant sight. His officers, ranged around his desk at attention, had no doubt of his mood. “What I want to know,” he said icily, “is who dumped that pod. Who sent it out there, and what’s that ensign doing in it, and why isn’t the beacon functioning, and what’s all this nonsense about communications security leaks.”
Eyes slid sideways; no one volunteered. Fargeon barked, “Cavery!”
“Sir, Ensign Sassinak had reported an incident of duplicate transmissions with unusual initiation codes - “
“I know about that. That’s got nothing to do with this, has it?”
Cavery wasn’t sure how far to go, yet. “I don’t know, sir: I was just starting at the beginning.” He took a breath, waited for Fargeon’s nod, and went on. “Today she reported that someone had used her initiation code to attempt access to a restricted file - “
“Ensign Sassinak? When?”
“Apparently it happened about five minutes before she came on duty. She reported it to me when I arrived - “ Cavery went on to explain what had happened up until the drill alarm went. Fargeon listened without further comment, his face expressionless. Then he turned to another officer.
“Well, Captain Palise: what did you see in E-bay.”
“Sir, we logged Ensign Sassinak into E-bay at 1826.40; she logged off the bridge on evac at 1824.10, and that’s just time to go directly to E-bay. As you know, sir, in an evac drill we have personnel constantly shifting about; once someone’s logged into the bay, there’s no way to keep watch on them until they’re into their assigned shuttle or pod. When the hatches are dogged, then they’re logged as onboard evac craft, and they’re supposed to return to duty as quickly as possible. Within two minutes of Ensign Sassinak’s bay log-in, we show fifty-three individuals logging into the same bay - about what you’d expect. Eight of them were in the wrong bay - and that’s about average, too. We had two recording officers in E-bay, but they didn’t notice anything until Pod 40-A fired.”
“Very well. Captain Palise. Now, Engineering - “
“The pod was live, sir, as they always are for drill. We can’t be shutting down the whole system just because somebody might make a mistake - “
“I know that.” It had been Fargeon’s own policy, in fact, and the Engineering Section had warned more than once that having evac drills with live pods and shuttles while in FTL travel was just asking for trouble. Fargeon glared at his senior engineer, and Erling glared back. Everyone knew that Erling had taken to Sassinak in her first assignment. Whatever had happened, Erling was going to pick Sassinak’s side, if he knew which it was.
“Well, sir, activation would be the same as always. If the hatch is properly dogged, inside and out, and the sequence keyed in - “
“From inside?”
“Either. The shuttles have to be operated from inside, but the whole reason behind the pods was safe evacuation of wounded or disabled individuals. Someone in the bay can close it up and send it off just as easy as the occupant.”
“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” said Fargeon repressively. “My interest now is in determining if Ensign Sassinak hit the wrong button out of stupidity, or did she intend to desert the ship?”
Into the silence that followed this remark. Lieutenant Achael’s words fell with the precision of an artisan’s hammer.
“Perhaps I can shed some light on that, sir. But I would prefer to do so in private.”
“On the contrary. You will tell me now.”
“Sir, it is a matter of some delicacy…”
“It is a matter of some urgency. Lieutenant, and I expect a complete report at once.”