"Course nine ninety-one, orange," the Chairman reported.
"Very well," he acknowledged, studying Truculent's decks the glow of a smoky dwarf blazing overhead. He swung his recliner aft, scanning the trunk of the KA'PPA mast and twin globes of the directors. Farther back, he cursorily checked the scorched cowling of their torpedo launcher flanked by the hemispheres of W and Z turrets. All appeared in trim—as usual. He had just reached above his head to start a suite of power-system checks when a shadow fell across the main console. He looked up to find Gallsworthy leaning over Theada's recliner.
"Take a break, son," the senior Helmsman muttered, indicating the bridge exit with his thumb. "I'll keep the seat warm while you're gone."
"But, Lieutenant," Theada protested, "I just had a..."
"You look tired, Theada," Gallsworthy said. "Tired."
"Oh. I, ah, see, Lieutenant," Theada agreed, fairly jumping out of the recliner.
Gallsworthy nodded. "Give us about ten cycles," he said.
"Aye, sir," Theada said, squeezing his way into the main bridge corridor.
Gallsworthy thumped into the recliner and frowned, drumming his fingers on the console. "I guess I'm a messenger today," he said, glowering at Brim. "Collingswood's asked me to pass on a bit of information she doesn't really want to talk about."
Brim nodded, trying to appear indifferent—but inside he was all curiosity. Collingswood normally needed no intermediaries. She said what she wanted—when she wanted. "Yes, sir?" he asked.
"She's got herself dunned with another xaxtdamned Admiralty detail," Gallsworthy explained. "Has to 'volunteer' some of the crew. Only..." He pursed his lips and drummed his fingers again as if he were having trouble with the words. "Only," he repeated, "she got a few extra parameters with this order.
Nobody's supposed to know about 'em. But you're a special case, in her eyes." He scratched his head for a moment, then nodded as if reaching some internal accord. "I guess I agree with her," he said with a frown, "for whatever that's worth, Carescrian."
Brim's curiosity was really piqued now. Senior Helmsmen never shared personal opinions with people who reported to them. He waited. Gallsworthy would get it all out in his own good time.
"What it boils down to," the man continued at some length, "is that you, your friend Ursis, Theada, Barbousse, and a couple of ratings are going to form a temporary team—Regula will brief you in a couple of cycles about it. And she's put Amherst in charge of the whole thing."
Brim nodded within. So that bothered her! He calmly scanned the instruments, waiting.
"She wanted you to know," Gallsworthy said presently, "that she didn't make the Amherst assignment by choice. That part came in a personal note from Amherst's father—you've heard of Rear Admiral Amherst, I'm sure."
Brim nodded sourly. He'd heard, all right. According to Borodov, the Admiral was among the loudest and most vocal opponents to passage of Lord Wyrood's Admiralty Reform Act. It certainly showed in his son.
"The old boy decided Puvis needed a bit more exposure in the media. Maybe a couple of medals to help the next promotion." He chuckled gruffly—and uncharacteristically. "Probably you had something to do with that, punk, what with those articles you got in the Journal. So whatever happens, figure it's your own fault, one way or another."
"I'll try to remember that, sir," Brim said, more than a little relieved it wasn't something worse. Life as an everyday Carescrian was still fresh enough in his mind that he could put up with quite a bit of harassment.
"Thank Collingswood sometime. I'm just the messenger," Gallsworthy said. "And, yeah, there's one more thing."
"Sir?"
Gallsworthy nodded his head, indicating the systems console farther back in the bridge. "You have the job of telling Ursis. He's not going to like this at all."
Within the metacycle, all four officers sat awkwardly together in Collingswood's cramped cabin—Ursis' bulk crowded in a center position. The Captain (dressed, as usual, in her worn sweater) was explaining what little she knew about the mission. "The Admiralty wouldn't give me much detail. Not even where you are going. Just that it involves a very small starship—some sort of scout, I imagine. That and a mercifully—for me—short duration: three weeks maximum, they say." Her eyes looked at Brim with a twinkle of humor. "These little side trips are getting to be a habit with you, Wilf," she said.
"Aye, Captain," Brim agreed with a grin.
"At any rate," she continued, "the requirement is for four officers: a leader, two Helmsmen, and an engineer. That ought to tell you where each of you fit. Plus a torpedoman and a crew of six general-purpose ratings. I'll be sending Barbousse to run that lot for you."
"Barbousse," Amherst gasped with raised eyebrows. "Why, he's only just been promoted to that rank. Besides which, the big lout has absolutely nothing between his oversized ears. Er, Captain."
Collingswood's eyes narrowed. "I believe," she said patiently, "Barbousse will serve quite admirably.
His records indicate a number of assignments within that duty category."
Amherst sniffed, glancing first at Brim, then at Ursis. "Bloody lowbrow crew, if you ask me," he grumped peevishly.
Brim glanced at Ursis. The Bear scowled.
"That will be sufficient, Lieutenant," Collingswood warned Amherst. "You will carry out the assignment as ordered, whatever your personal feelings. Is that understood?" Her quiet voice had suddenly turned to hullmetal.
"Yes, Captain," Amherst agreed hurriedly. "I, ah, understand."
"Good," Collingswood said. "Because I am also permitting the mission to proceed while harboring some rather serious reservations of my own."
"Well!" Amherst started, then clearly thought better of it and abruptly shut his mouth.
Collingswood closed her eyes and tapped her toe. "Since I have little more information to impart," she said stiffly, "I declare this meeting at an end. We rendezvous with your pickup ship in approximately two metacycles—it will, I am assured, take you to your mysterious destination. Good luck to all," she said in a clear sign of dismissal. "I am sure I do not have to remind any of you that I expect performance that reflects favorably on the Imperial Fleet and on Truculent." Then, abruptly, she busied herself at a console.
"We shall do all in our power, Captain," Amherst muttered stiffly, leading the way from her cabin Brim followed Ursis and shut the door quietly behind him.
"Try to report to the transport hatch on time, you three," the First Lieutenant said. "I shall leave it to your judgment who should be responsible for notifying Barbousse." Then he burned self-importantly down the ladder and disappeared into the next level below.
Brim looked at Theada and smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "It won't be all that bad. Besides, Amherst has no objections to your pedigree at all." He patted the younger Helmsman on the back. "Go down and pack for a three-week trip; we'll meet you at the hatch. All right? If we all stick together, everything will come out all right. You'll see."
Theada nodded his head and smiled bravely. "I guess," he said uncertainly. Then with a grimace he followed Amherst down the ladder.
Brim stood and shook his head and looked at Ursis. "Wonderful," he said with a wry grin. "Just thraggling wonderful."
The Bear frowned. "Perhaps, Wilf Ansor, it is not as bad as it seems, especially in light of the, shall we say, 'special' information Captain Collingswood has provided."
"How can that be, Nik?" Wilf asked. "We both know what he's like when he's got the wind up."