Lt. Leary, Commanding by David Drake

“That’s Thea Zane, the woman who visited Vaughn on Cinnabar!” Adele said. She sat at the console, apparently oblivious of her surroundings, and began switching between screens without bothering to explain what she was doing. The view of the dock shrank to a corner of the display.

“Yes it is,” Daniel said. Dorst and Vesey remained at the hatchway, teetering with nervous anticipation. He crooked his finger to bring them to him. “And I can’t imagine how she reached Sexburga ahead of us, even if she left immediately after Vaughn’s party.”

“She came aboard the yacht Achilles,” Adele said with satisfaction, leaning her head aside. “Twenty-three days out of Cinnabar.”

Daniel stooped to bring his head into position to read the personnel manifest the yacht had filed with the Harbormaster. Fifty-three crew—a large complement for a 300-ton vessel, but she was carrying the sails of a much larger hull—and one passenger: Mistress Thea Zane.

“I see,” he said, straightening. His smile had a degree of calculation in it. “I suppose we should be glad that they didn’t have Uncle Stacey’s logs, or our run from Cinnabar might not have been a record after all.”

He straightened and gestured to Adele. She switched the console back to a full-sized image of the dock and stood, nodding to the midshipmen to show that she was aware of them. On the display Vaughn gripped arms with Mistress Zane, then got into the closed car with her help. Obviously, he wasn’t fully recovered from the voyage.

Well, neither was Daniel, though he was getting there. He forced his face into a serious expression and said, “Dorst, Vesey, I have a favor to ask of you. I realize you have plans for your liberty—”

He was fairly confident that the midshipmen had no real plans, just concern sparked by the tall tales they were bound to have heard. They’d be afraid that they wouldn’t measure up to what was expected of an RCN officer.

“—but I’m going to ask you to put them on hold for our first day here.” Daniel cleared his throat. “Normally I’d escort Officer Mundy myself, but I have anchor watch for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want her to stumble around Spires alone, so I’d appreciate it if you’d accompany her. I won’t make this an order, but—”

“Sir, we’d be happy—” Vesey said. Her tongue caught and she glanced at Dorst. “Ah, I’d be—”

“We’d be honored to join Officer Mundy!” Dorst said with relieved enthusiasm. “We’ll keep her, ah . . .”

He wanted to say “safe,” but he suddenly doubted that was the right word. Wisely, Daniel thought, he let his voice trail off.

Adele seemed to be on the verge of open laughter; which, if not a first, certainly wasn’t something she had great experience with. Still working to keep his face straight, Daniel said, “This meets with your approval, Officer Mundy?”

You had to know what you were looking for to see the flat bulge in the side pocket of Adele’s jacket. If the midshipmen had heard the stories about what Adele could and had done with her pistol, they probably classed them with the stories about the night Barnes serviced all thirty of the girls in a brothel on LaGrange, having reached the madam just as dawn broke.

“Yes it does,” she said solemnly. “I’m afraid my taste in amusement is staid by any standards, but we can at least get the flavor of the city together. In future days you’ll be free to indulge yourself.”

“Oh, that’ll be fine, ma’am,” Dorst assured her. “To tell the truth, I was sort of looking forward to . . . I’ve never been out of the Cinnabar system, you know, and I’d like really to see some things besides—”

He broke off and pointedly didn’t look at Vesey.

“We don’t have to leave the Sissie to get drunk,” Vesey said primly, her eyes fixed on the far bulkhead also. “Anyway, we’re glad to join you, mistress.”

“Then you’d best learn to call me Mundy,” Adele said as she shepherded her charges toward the corridor. “I have the Sailing Directions—”

She tapped the pocket with her data unit.

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