“That’s all right,” Whitey shrugged. “If you can’t sound off at us, who can you sound off to? Most of the new recruits would faint dead away if you talked to them direct, much less shouted at them.”
“It’s not quite that bad.”
“Well, anyway, Pepe’s staying with her here on Bastei, so he’ll be able to handle any problems that we’ve overlooked,” Whitey continued. “We’ll be back in a month to check on things and pick them up if they’re ready.”
“You’re sure they’re set on rejoining?” Tambu pressed. “Shipboard is no place to raise a kid.”
“I already tried that argument, and it didn’t work. Deny was raised on shipboard.”
“But that probably wasn’t a fighting ship. There’s a difference.”
“We haven’t done any fighting for a long time,” Whitey observed. “Anyway, they both want to keep working for us, and I’m not about to stop them. Do you want to overrule me?”
Tambu shook his head, then remembered she couldn’t see him.
“No,” he said hastily. “It’s your ship, and if you’re willing to put up with it, I won’t interfere.”
“Good,” Whitey nodded. “Then it’s settled.”
“She is registered at the hospital under her real name, isn’t she?” Tambu frowned.
“Yes, she is!” Whitey exclaimed. “And her medical records have been transferred from her home planet. That’s what I meant in my original report when I said we were following recommended procedures. Your recommended procedures.”
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Tambu said.
“Yes, you are.” Whitey was still annoyed. “Do you get this wound up over everything that happens in the fleet?”