He paused to clear his throat, coughing slightly.
“Excuse me. As to the Captains’ Council,” he continued, “this is also something which could potentially save us considerable time. If for example, a problem-“
He broke off suddenly, coughing hard and clutching at his chair for support.
Tambu bolted upright, staring at the screen as the room dissolved into chaos. He reached for his mike–but before he could speak, the viewscreen went blank.
He froze, blinking at the screen in disbelief. This was impossible! Communications equipment simply didn’t break down. In the years of the fleet’s existence, there had never been a failure of communications gear-on any ship.
Moving quickly, Tambu punched out a familiar combination of buttons and a view of immediate space filled with the ships of the fleet sprang to life on the screen. That gave him some assurance. At least the problem wasn’t with his gear. Something must be malfunctioning with the equipment on the Scorpion. Strange that it should happen just as there was a disruption in the meeting… or was it a coincidence?
Tambu frowned, trying to reconstruct the scene in his mind. Had Jelly been the only one coughing? He had a flashing impression of people moving away from Jelly during the commotion-not towards him, as would be the normal reflex.
Shaking the thought from his mind, Tambu made a few adjustments to his controls and tried the Scorpion again.
“Calling the Scorpion.! This is Tambu. Come in, Scorpion.”
To his relief, the response was almost immediate. The display, however, was not of the captains’ meeting. Instead, there was a bearded man on the screen with a tangle of dark, unkempt, shoulder-length hair. Tambu noted several features in the cabin behind the man, and realized he was in Egor’s private quarters.