“Get them on the horn and tell them they’re hired,” he said firmly.
“Lieutenant,” the commander cut her short, “I gave you this assignment because I trust your judgment. If you say these are the best candidates, then that’s what we’ll go with.”
“But I’m not sure of a couple of these, sir. I was hoping you could-“
“Being sure is a luxury you rarely get as an officer, Lieutenant. You make the best guess you can in the time allowed, then make it the right choice.”
“But …”
“Our main criterion is that they fit into uniform sizes that we have in stock. Outside of that, they’re mostly window dressing. As to personalities … well … if you’ll recall, we took potluck with this company to start with. I doubt there is anyone in there that will be more of a problem case than the Legionnaires we’re already dealing with. Agreed?”
“I … I guess so sir.”
“Fine. Like I’ve said before, Rembrandt, you need to be more decisive. I don’t have time to duplicate your work-and neither do you if we’re going to give the new bodies time to pack and get on board before lift-off. I suggest you start moving.”
“Yes, sir!”
Momentarily forgetting her civilian garb, Rembrandt drew herself to attention and fired off a salute before fleeing her commander’s presence.
“Well, Beek,” Phule said, turning to his butler at last, “except for that, how are things going?”
“Rather better than they are for you, it would seem … sir.” Beeker’s voice was utterly devoid of warmth.
“How’s that again?” Phule frowned. “Is something wrong, Beek?”