White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

Well, Colonel?”

Skempton shook his head. He said doggedly, “It’s wrong, I know it’s wrong, for a

newly appointed ship commander and a medic to be given so much authority. But

the Rhabwar people are the only ones who know what they are doing at the moment.

Reluctantly, I agree. O’Mara?”

All their eyes, the Colonel’s and Conway’s two and Thorn-nastor’s four, were on

the Chief Psychologist, who kept his steadily on Conway. Finally he spoke.

“If you have nothing else to say, Doctor,” he said dryly, “I suggest you return

to Rhabwar as quickly as possible before the area becomes so congested that you

can’t find your own ship.”

The reaction time of the Monitor Corps to an emergency large or small was

impressively fast. In Tyrell’s forward view-screen the area resembled a small,

untidy star cluster in which Rhabwar’s beacon flashed at its center like a

short-term vari­able. Apart from acknowledging their arrival and giving them

permission to lock on, Fletcher did not speak to them because, he explained,

fifteen more scoutships had arrived unexpectedly and he was busy fitting them

into his retrieval program. For this reason Conway did not get an opportunity to

tell him about the other unexpected things which were about to happen until he

was back on board the ambulance ship, and by that time it was too late.

“Rkabwar,” a voice said from the wall speaker as Conway entered Control, “this

is the survey and cultural contact vessel Descartes, Colonel Okaussie

commanding. I’m told you have work for us, Major Fletcher.”

“Well, yes, sir,” the Captain said. He looked appealingly at Conway, then went

on, “If 1 might respectfully suggest, sir,, that your translation specialists—”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Colonel Okaussie broke in. “Re­spectfully suggest, I

mean. When I know as much about this situation as you do I’ll accept

suggestions, respectful or oth­erwise. But until then, Major, stop wasting time

and tell me what you want us to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Fletcher said. Speaking quickly, concisely, and, out of habit,

respectfully, he did just that. Then a few seconds after he broke contact the

radar screen showed a new trace which was even larger than Descartes. It

identified itself as the Hudlar-crewed depot ship Motann, a star-going

engineering complex normally used to bring technical assistance to vessels whose

hyperdrive generators had failed noncatastrophically leaving them stranded in

normal space between the stars. Its captain, who was not a Monitor Corps

officer, was also happy to take his instructions from Fletcher. But then ah even

larger blip appeared on the screen, indicating that a very large ship indeed had

just emerged from hyperspace. Automatically Lieu­tenant Haslam fed the bearing

to the telescope and tapped for maximum magnification.

The tremendous, awe-inspiring sight of an Emperor-class battlecruiser filled the

screen.

“Rhabwar, this is Vespasian

Fletcher paled visibly at the thought of giving instructions to the godlike

entity who would be in command of that ship, whose communications officer was

relaying the compliments of Fleet Commander Dermod and a request for full vision

contact as soon as convenient. Conway, who had not had time to tell the Captain

what to expect because it was already hap­pening, got to his feet.

“I’ll be in the Casualty Deck lab,” he said. Grinning, he reached across to clap

Fletcher reassuringly on the shoulder and added, “You’re doing fine, Captain.

Just remember that, a long, long time ago, the Fleet Commander was a major,

too.”

The conversation between Fletcher and the Fleet Com­mander, complete with

visuals, was on the Casualty Deck’s repeater when he arrived, but the sound was

muted because Prilicla was on another frequency giving instructions to one of

the scoutship medical officers regarding a cadaver the other had found and which

Murchison wanted brought in for ex­amination. Murchison and Naydrad were still

working on the first specimen, which had been reduced to what seemed to be its

component parts.

Murchison nodded toward the repeater screen and said, “You seem to have been

given everything you needed. Was O’Mara in a good mood?’.’

“His usual sarcastic, helpful self,” Conway said, moving to join her at the

dissection table. “Do we know anything more about this outsize boa constrictor?”