Judith touched the keys that snapped Aaron's Rod's impeller wedge into existence and sent the privateer sweeping up and out of her parking orbit.
"That," she said, "is our answer."
What was supposed to be a sleepy watch was turning distinctly interesting. Carlie, at the Tac station on Intransigent's bridge, listened to the reports coming in while she took her turn plotting intra-system traffic.
Captain Boniece was not the type of commander to have his crew idle away an opportunity to gather information. Endicott might one day be an ally, in which case the information could be used to defend it. If it chose to side with the Peeps, well, the information would still be useful.
Intransigent did nothing overtly rude, but her sensors were so much better than the Masadans' that they took in a great deal that doubtless the Masadans assumed was out of range. Carlie knew, too, that Tab Tilson had requested the use of any middies who could be spared for what he promised would be an interesting training exercise.
Carlie remembered her own days as a middie and suspected that Tab was having them monitor all in-system and planetary communications. The sorting of order out of the myriad unshielded transmissions would be excellent training for the mad wash of information that flowed through the Combat Information Center in the midst of a battle.
And if they picked up some information on the Faithful's Navy, or on the presence of the Peeps in system, well, that wouldn't be a bad thing either. As the hours passed, the most interesting thing they found was how little evidence there was of either, almost as if both had decided to make themselves scarce.
Almost! Carlie snorted to herself. Get real, woman. This is no coincidence.
She noted with interest that a personnel shuttle, sleek and easily maneuverable, had detached from a Silesian trading vessel and had entered a ship in parking orbit around the planet.
"Interesting," Boniece murmured when she passed this information on. "Beacon says the ship is Aaron's Rod, an armed merchie."
"If she's armed, the armament is well hidden," Carlie reported in response. "I wonder if there's a reason for them to hide their weapons?"
Armed merchantmen were often suspect since it didn't take much for one to turn pirate. This liaison with the Silesians—many of whom were themselves pirates—made this one even more suspect than usual
"Get a listing on Aaron's Rod," Boniece suggested.
Sally Pike, one of Carlie's middies doing a nervous turn on the bridge, reported, "She's registered to a Templeton Incorporated, Sir. She's also registered with the Masadan government as a privateer."
"Interesting," Boniece said again. "Does Templeton Incorporated have any other armed merchantmen?"
"Yes, Sir," Midshipwoman Pike replied with a promptness that made Carlie ridiculously proud, "Proverbs and Psalms. Both registered as privateers."
"It seems we should raise our estimate on the number of armed vessels available to the Faithful in time of war," Boniece commented.
"Privateers are hardly a problem, are they, Skipper?" commented an engineer with the lazy confidence of one who knows that his ship is in all ways superior.
"Guns," Boniece said, turning to Carlie, "what would you say?"
"I'd say, Sir," Carlie replied promptly, peripherally aware of Midshipwoman Pike listening with some astonishment to the ATO getting quizzed, "that anything that has guns and sidewalls can't be rated 'hardly a problem.' For that matter, even an unarmed vessel could ram."
"Paranoid," Boniece agreed, "but reasonable, and we cannot forget the psychology of the Faithful. In their own view, they are God's Chosen, and people who believe God is on their side are hard to predict."
The discussion went on and if Midshipwoman Pike was conscious of the fact that many of the questions tossed her way were something of a quiz she kept her concentration admirably.
Near the end of the watch, Carlie reported, "Skipper, there's a cargo shuttle rendezvousing with Aaron's Rod, one from groundside. ID Beacon says it's the Flower, currently adjunct to Aaron's Rod."
"Have the Silesians left?"
"No, Sir."
"I'd say then, we have a meeting. Interesting."
Later, just as the watch was changing, Carlie reported, "Captain, Aaron's Rod is powering up her impellers."
"Silesians still on board?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell your relief to keep the officer of the watch appraised."
"Yes, Sir."
Carlie was back in her quarters, taking a breather before going to check on her middies, when a call was relayed to her.
"Restricted channel from the surface," the com officer, Midshipman Kareem Jones reported crisply.
"Very good. I'll take it here."
A face Carlie remembered forgetting after one of Captain Boniece's dinners formed on the screen.
"Lieutenant Dunsinane, John Hill," the face said. "I'm with the embassy here. I'd like you to request the return of Mr. Midshipman Winton to Intransigent."
All Carlie's old doubts about Michael Winton came flooding back.
"Has he done something wrong?"
"He has done nothing, but I suspect that a situation is developing where it may not be best for Mr. Winton's continued welfare that he remain planetside."
Carlie had seen tabletops with more expression than Hill was showing, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made a lie of all the stiff neutrality.
"Situation?"
"I don't dare say more," Hill replied. "I only request that as the officer directly responsible for Intransigent's midshipmen you be prepared to say that he is returning on your order."
A crackle of static wavered across the connection, and Carlie knew she didn't have time to ask more questions.
"I'll send the order," she agreed. "He is due on board fourth watch anyhow."
"Th . . ."
John Hill's thanks, if thanks they were, were cut off. A moment later Midshipman Jones' voice came on, apologetic.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. The call was interrupted at the surface. Would you like us to try and reestablish it from here?"
"No, Mr. Jones, that won't be necessary. Send a message to Captain Boniece asking him to call me at his first convenience."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Boniece returned her call almost before Carlie could finish mentally framing her report.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
Carlie explained about John Hill's mysterious call, finishing by saying, "So I agreed, Sir. I hope that was the right thing to do."
"Sounds to me like Mr. Hill wanted an excuse to get Mr. Winton—or perhaps it would be wiser to say Crown Prince Michael in this case—off the surface without creating a diplomatic incident. He didn't say anything about removing the rest of the diplomatic contingent, did he?"
"No, Sir. We were cut off, but I had no indication he was about to ask anything of the sort. His concern seemed solely for Mr. Winton."
"Interesting."
The captain bit into his lower lip for a moment.
"Sounds like Mr. Hill was apprehensive about a situation wherein either Prince Michael or Mr. Midshipman Winton would be facing a risk that the rest of the diplomatic contingent would not. Very strange."
"Do you think it's just a matter of his relationship to the Queen?" Carlie asked hesitantly.
"It could be, or it could be that Mr. Hill senses a situation developing where an officer in the Queen's service might be more vulnerable than a civilian diplomat."
"My apologies, Sir, but you're talking in riddles."
"Riddles are all Mr. Hill has left us with. Keep yourself available, Lieutenant. You may be needed."