Far below and to port, an outbound freighter saluted them. Barbousse returned it promptly—his KA'PPA reply was not even complete before the authenticator chimed.
Brim watched the lights as the key reset, then checked his flight instruments, initiated a long systems self-test sequence, and lined up the navigation follower—it was a hair out of alignment. He was feeding in a series of adjustments from the master console when it finally hit him. The authenticator! Why was a merchant ship challenging him?
"That was a merchant ship a few moments ago?" he asked Theada suddenly.
'Th-That's what the salute said," Theada answered vaguely as he concentrated on a diagnostic logic run.
"A merchantman?" Ursis asked, turning from his console.
"What was a merchantman?"
"The starship that just passed us," Theada answered, this time looking up to see what was so suddenly interesting. "Said he was a merchantman."
"I see," Ursis said. "And he used an authentication key?"
"That seems to be the case, Nik," Brim acknowledged.
"Merchantmen don't use authentication keys," Ursis growled.
"You noticed also," Brim said with a chuckle.
"What is all this talk about?" Amherst demanded from the companionway.
"The merchantman we just passed, Lieutenant," Brim answered, peering at a red light blinking suddenly on his overhead panel.
"What about the merchantman?"
"Someone aboard used an authentication key on us, sir," Brim explained over his shoulder as he switched to a backup cooling system for the steering gear. The red light extinguished.
"So?" Amherst said. "Is there anything wrong with the authentication key?"
"Well, sir," Brim said, "most merchantmen don't carry an authenticator. It's a piece of specialized military gear, more or less."
"I know that," Amherst snapped. "And this idle talk is the best entertainment you can dredge up to While away your time?"
"Well, actually, sir," Brim said, "I was pretty serious about the whole—"
Amherst cut him off with an imperious wave of the hand. "Don't bother me with the details, Brim. You are permitted to speak among yourselves. Just be certain you pay very close attention to the job of flying this horrible little starship." He shivered and took his place at the commander's console.
Brim turned to Theada. "Jubal," he said, "you and Barbousse check the other ships we've passed in the last metacycle. See if they saluted as civilian types and then kicked off the authenticator, too."
"Aye, sir," Theada said, slipping from his seat.
Brim slowed their approach speed to provide extra time to act—just in case.
The younger Helmsman returned with Barbousse in only a few cycles. "We've passed eight of them, Wilf," he replied with a look of concern. "A mixed bag, mostly, but all commercial—and each one challenged our authenticator."
Brim looked over at Ursis. "What do you think, Nik?" he asked.
"Strange," the Bear pronounced. "Eight out of eight, so far—and all civilians. Makes me wonder."
"Right," Brim agreed. "Not to mention the fact that we've encountered no warships of any class."
"None until now," Theada interrupted tensely. "Look what just matched courses with us up ahead." He pointed through the forward Hyperscreens.
Brim peered into the darkness where the stars were occluded by a monstrous shadow. "Military?" he said.
"That's what the Challenge just said," Theada acknowledged. "Gives the ID number as DN-291."
"DN?" Ursis repeated. "That's the League designation for heavy cruisers—but what does '291' stand for? Smallest DN number I can recall is 408."
"Old one," Theada said, snapping his fingers. "Of course. All two-hundred and three-hundred series cruisers were retired a couple of years ago. At least."
"You suppose they kept a few for perimeter defense?" Ursis mused. "Like ultra-heavy patrol craft."
Brim grimaced. "For perimeter defense maybe, but surely not as patrol ships. I doubt if two-hundreds are maneuverable enough for that kind of work." He shook his head. "No, Nik, it's my guess that old DN-291 comes out only for special projects."
"Special projects?" Theada asked.
"Of course," Ursis interrupted with a grin. "With a flotilla of so-called civilian patrol craft. Correct?"
"I think so, Nik," Brim said, watching a blue navigational beacon wink far off to port. "It's the way I'd set things up myself, probably."
"I don't follow you," Theada said.
"Nor do I," Amherst complained from the hatchway. "You Carescrians are certainly not very articulate. It probably has something to do with your second-rate educational standards."
Brim gritted his teeth. "Must be, sir," he said. "I only formed the idea while we were talking."
"Well?"
"Yes, sir. The way I see things, Colonel Dark's fears that our spy was compromised appear to have been well founded."
"What does that have to do with the cruiser?" Amherst interrupted nervously.
"I think DN-291 is part of a special group, Lieutenant," Brim grunted as the scout abruptly swerved to nadir in a gravity draft. "And the patrol craft supporting her include the supposedly commercial/civilian ships that have been tripping our authentication key for the last watch or so." He thought for a moment while he gentled the ship back on course. "My guess is that they're out to catch both our spy and the ship sent to bring him out."
"It explains why we haven't seen any regular patrol ships," Ursis added.
"Make sense to you?" Brim asked Theada.
"Yeah, Wilf," Theada agreed, looking up from a navigational fix. "It does."
"I suppose it does make some sense," Amherst volunteered. "I never had much hope we would find this 'spy' of theirs. Perhaps we should abort the mission and return home immediately."
Brim raised his eyebrows. "Oh, no, sir," he ejaculated. "I never suggested anything like aborting the mission. We'll simply have to be a bit more cautious when we go in—skip the first window and just skirt the area."
Suddenly, Amherst's face went pale and sweat began beading on his forehead again. "No?" be cried sharply. "Well I am in command of this ship, and I say we return home now, before we catch up with that battleship."
"Cruiser, sir."
"Whatever it is, I order you to turn back now!" Amherst demanded.
"But, sir," Brim protested, "we can't just turn around and leave without at least trying to pickup that spy. Why, something like that would be murder, plain and simple. We've got to make at least a couple of tries."
"How dare you question my order?" Amherst spluttered, angrily rising to his feet. "Lieutenant Brim, you will immediately place us on a reverse course and, and..."
"Enough!" Ursis rumbled, stepping suddenly to the center of the cabin. "Amherst," he said, "I made a solemn promise to myself you would not again destroy a mission if I could help it—and I shall now carry out that promise."
"Sit down," Ursis said, seizing the First Lieutenant's arm and forcing him back in the command recliner.
"I mean what I say, believe me."
A clearly startled Amherst looked first at Theada, then at Brim, eyes widening in dawning fright. "You are not going to permit this to occur, are you, Brim?" he implored. "He's calling for mutiny."
"I support Nik completely," Brim said quietly. "And you now have a choice which you must make immediately: either lead the mission like an officer or relinquish your command. We will not tolerate another episode like the one on Ruggetos. You understand, I am sure."