Oh. Oh! That must mean—
“Ship, this is Loppy, I’m with the Count only he’s upstairs,” said a voice. “We got a situation here and we’re going to need help bloody damned quick. Over.”
Because the call was on an emergency channel, it got a priority routing to the bridge and the Battle Center as well as to Adele’s console. The call plates every spacer on liberty carried were meant for recall by the ship. The plates’ outgoing transmissions generally carried only a half mile or so.
Adele had directed the ship’s technicians to adjust the plates’ programming to use the relay system that carried messages for the Governor’s Guard, giving them full two-way capability. For ordinary crewmen that didn’t matter a great deal—the establishments serving their needs were generally well within a half mile of the harbor. The detachment escorting Count Klimov would’ve been out of touch without the modification, though, as would Captain Leary himself.
“Loppy, this is Woetjans,” said the bosun. As watch officer she was using the command console, but the couch was adjusted to Daniel’s height. It made a clumsy match for Woetjans’ raw-boned frame. “Go ahead.”
“Top, we’re in a fancy club, dunno what the name of it is,” Rigger Loppinger said. “It’s not just a bar and a knock shop, the Count’s upstairs in the card room playing with the captain of the Goldenfels. You remember—”
“I remember,” the bosun said grimly. “Spit it out, spacer!”
Adele’s wands flickered. She’d already queued a recall signal; now she called up the triangulated location of Loppy’s call and superimposed it on files from San Juan’s chief of police. The establishment was the Anyo Nuevo; and judging from the amount it paid in bribes each week, it was a very upscale place indeed.
“Top, the Count’s cleaning out the bastard from Pleasaunce,” the rigger said. “He’ll own his back teeth in a little bit. They wouldn’t let us in the card room, but I could hear it through the doorway. Thing is, there’s twenty spacers from the Goldenfels drinking down in the bar here, and I don’t think their captain’s going to let the Count go home with his money. Can you get us some help? Over.”
The Klimovna was speaking, had been speaking for some while. Adele was only vaguely aware of her, the way she heard the hum of the corvette’s fusion bottle on D Deck. Tovera had backed the older woman away so that she wouldn’t brush Adele with a sweep of her arms.
Woetjans turned awkwardly on the couch. Her face was anguished. “Mistress?” she called across the bridge to Adele. In an emergency riggers like her didn’t think about radio communication. “Can you raise the captain, because—”
“Six here,” Daniel said, answering the summons Adele had sent as soon as Loppinger mentioned the Goldenfels. “Go ahead.”
“Woetjans, I’ll take this,” Adele said, bringing a look of relief to the bosun’s face. “Daniel, Count Klimov is playing cards with Captain Bertram of the Goldenfels in the Anyo Nuevo, whose coordinates I’ve downloaded to you. The game will shortly result in violence. Bertram has twenty spacers with him and his ship has a total crew of three hundred and fifty-six, according to the amount the port medical inspector just paid into his private account to clear the ship from quarantine. Ah, over.”
She was sure how many crew the Goldenfels carried because she’d compared the payment to that made for the hundred and twenty-seven passengers and crew aboard the Princess Cecile. Cheating a government was one thing. Cheating an official personally by shorting his bribe was something else, and much more dangerous.
Daniel whistled, a sound which the recall plate only partially transmitted. “That’s no freighter!” he said. “The Goldenfels must be an auxiliary cruiser.”
In a different tone but with almost the same breath he continued, “Very well, sound recall.”
Adele acted as she heard the words, nodding assent to the bosun.
“Woetjans, how many men are aboard the Sissie now? Over.”
“Twenty-four either on watch,” Woetjans said, “or back from liberty early. But those’re in bad shape some of ’em, over.”
“Very good,” said Daniel. “Can you lay on transport? Because if we have to run a mile and a half to this bar, we’re none of us going to be in good shape. Over.”