“Have you checked the uninhabited planets?” he asked, stalling for time.
The expression of anger on the captain’s face gave way to one of uneasiness.
“We’ve run an instrument check, but not a firsthand confirmation,” he admitted. “I figured if the Chameleon was putting in for R and R and supplies they’d be at one of the inhabited planets. I mean, there’s no point in giving your crew shore leave on a hunk of barren rock. Shall I go ahead and check out the other planets?”
Tambu had reached his decision as the captain spoke.
“No, that won’t be necessary. I want you to hold firm at that system for a while, though. Wait at least a week and see if our target pops up. He might just be running late.”
The captain grimaced, then remembered that Tambu could still see him and rearranged his features into a forced smile.
“Hold position for a week,” he repeated. “Affirmative.”
“For the record,” Tambu said casually, “What are you figuring as your modus operandi for that week?”
It was an unfair question. The captain had just gotten his orders, and it was obvious he couldn’t have a set plan of action in mind yet. Still, Tambu expected his captains to be able to be able to think on their feet. Besides, he hadn’t liked the way the captain reacted when receiving his orders.
“Urn…” the captain began, licking his lips nervously, “we’ll leave a crewman at each spaceport on the three inhabited planets, then take up position close enough to the furthest uninhabited planet that it will screen our position. If the target ship shows up, our watchers can contact us by closed communicator and we’ll move in.”