So it was almost a shock to come out of her tent-Major Botchup had allowed the press corps to set up its own little enclave within the legion perimeter-and see the captain sitting under the awning on a camp stool, riffling through a pile of papers. His expression was good-natured as always, but his body language said “Man Working-Do Not Disturb” as plainly as if he’d hung out a sign.
Jennie hadn’t gotten to where she was in her profession without being willing to ignore that kind of message, even from people she didn’t know. Willard Phule had taken her out wining and dining and dancing in first-class restaurants on two planets and one luxury space resort. More to the point, he’d given her blanket permission to interview any and every member of his company, with holocams running. He had been her best contact for one of the biggest stories of her career. She sensed that whatever was going on right now might be the single most fascinating twist in the entire story to date. And she certainly wasn’t going to let the fact that he was busy get in her way of talking to him.
“Hey, there you are at last! How are you doing?” she called, waving heartily and striding purposefully over to where he sat. She straightened her new purple camouflage hat and smiled her best smile.
Phule raised his head at the sound of her voice and looked right through her. Jennie stopped dead in her tracks. She was used to being looked at-with appreciation by the male lookers, often with envy by the females. On any given day, several billion pairs of eyes might be scanning her face on holo sets all across the Galaxy. And when she walked into a place, it was a given that she’d be the center of attention.