Hairy shook his head woodenly.
“Well, you know it now! Game time is over, Hairy. You have five seconds to call your crew to assemble in front of that screen where I can see them all, or I activate the mechanism.”
Despite his firm declaration, Tambu was holding his breath, hoping. If the mutineers would only comply now-stand there so he could see they weren’t manning the guns, leveling their sights on an unsuspecting fleet-
For a moment, Hairy wavered. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his eyes darted to someone off-screen. Another voice called out, its words indistinguishable, but it seemed to strengthen Hairy’s resolve.
“You’re bluffing,” he challenged, his head coming up defiantly. “We’ve got all the captains on board. Even if you could do it, you wouldn’t just-“
“Good-bye, Hairy,” Tambu said, lowering his hand to the console’s keyboard.
For a split second, Hairy’s face filled the screen, his eyes wide with terror. Then, for the second time that day, the screen went blank.
Immediately, Tambu rekeyed the display, and the view of the fleet reappeared-the fleet minus the Scorpion. There was no trace left of the meeting ship.
The console’s board lit up like a Christmas tree. The blinking red lights chased each other up and down the board as Tambu sat and stared. Idly he noted in his mind which ships took the longest to call in.
Finally, his mind focused and he lunged forward, gripping the mike with one hand as his other played rapidly over the console’s keyboard.
“This is Tambu,” he announced. “All ships, cancel your calls and stand by for a fleetwide announcement.”