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  Rom looked doubtful. “Well, I hope something works. By the time we reach the Independents, the rest of you might be able to carry it off, but not Tera.”

  Tackling the easier job first, Kas told Rom to send Gran to his cabin. Gran's cheerful good humor and youthful enthusiasm made him everyone's favorite, and contributed greatly to the ship's morale. He made Kas feel old and jaded, but he liked Gran as much as everyone else.

  “Gran,” Kas began, “I want to talk to you about your acting.”

  Gran looked distressed. “But I’m trying, sir. I really am!”

  Kas smiled. “I know you are, Gran. You’re trying hard to look unmilitary, and, to some extent, you’re succeeding.” He paused with a sigh. “The problem is that you’re trying to imitate Rom instead of developing your own style. Rom is very good at it, but he’s had years of practice in becoming what he is. You’re trying to copy him with only a couple of weeks’ practice. As a result, you just look like a cartoon of Rom, and that looks even more suspicious than Fleet manners.”

  Gran’s expression had turned thoughtful. “I think I understand, sir. Instead of copying Rom, I should work out my own mannerisms and speaking.”

  Kas smiled and nodded. “As for the accent, just use the one you were born with. That would be . . . uh . . . Jule, right?”

  Gran looked gratified that Kas had taken the time to find out. “Yes, sir. My family were fishermen.”

  "All right, just try to remember how some of the fishermen from your home village walked, talked and acted. You don’t have to be a perfect copy; I doubt we’ll run into anyone from Jule. Just be a good generic Jule fisherman.”

  “Yes, sir!” Gran replied excitedly. His face lit with enthusiasm. “I know I can do that. When I was growing up, I used to watch the boat captains and try to imitate them. I know just what you mean, sir.”

  Kas hoped Tera would be as easy to deal with, but he knew that she wouldn’t. He called her to his cabin.

  Tera obviously knew the reason for his summons. She looked desperately unhappy, and her expression was sullen and morose. She didn't wait for Kas to speak. “I know what you want,” she said accusingly, “You want me to start behaving like some . . . rim barbarian. You want someone like . . . like Rom!”

  Kas was sitting erect and formal, grimly military. “Exactly. Lieutenant Commander Fauss, you’re endangering our lives, and those of the people in cold sleep. More importantly, you’re endangering the success of this mission.”

  She cringed slightly. Suddenly her shoulders slumped and her expression revealed her misery. She seemed on the verge of tears. “Do you think I don’t know that, sir? But . . . well . . . I’ve worked so hard on becoming a Fleet officer that I don’t know how to act like an outerworlder anymore.”

  Kas snorted. “Nonsense!”

  A flush spread over her broad features. “I can’t help it if I’m a Fleet officer and not some . . . some savage like Reffel!” she snapped.

  Kas' expression softened and he relaxed slightly. Tera wasn't resisting him. She needed counseling, not a chewing out. “I wish you were half as good at this as Rom is. You know that Rom is my Exec; what you don’t seem to realize is that until he resigned five years ago, Rom Reffel was a Fleet Lieutenant Commander, just like you. In fact, He had several years’ more experience than you do now, including a stint as exec of a destroyer.”

  Her eyes widened. “Rom? Rom was a lieutenant commander? That . . . that uncouth . . .” The eyes narrowed again, this time in anger. “I’ll kill him! All this time he’s been . . .”

  Kas suppressed a grin. “Yep. I gather he’s really been enjoying your reactions.”

  “Hmph! I’ll show him reactions! That . . . that . . . man!” She jumped to her feet.

  “Hold it!” Kas gestured toward the chair she’d just vacated. “We’re not finished here, Commander. Sit down!” She thumped back into the chair, still obviously furious.

  “This is a Fleet mission, after all,” Kas continued calmly. “You should have known Rom would be Fleet. At any rate, Rom is an excellent example of what we’re all trying to accomplish – all but you. Until now, that is. From now on, I expect to see an honest effort toward acting your part.”

  “But I’ve tried!” she wailed. “I just can’t seem to overcome my fleet training.”

  Kas rose and walked around the desk to stand over her. He regarded her sternly. “No, you haven’t tried,” he said firmly, “But you will. I’m warning you right now. I won’t have this mission endangered by your stubbornness. You’ve got until our last jump from empire space. If I’m not satisfied with your efforts by that time, I swear I’ll thaw out an astrogator and freeze you in her place. Is that clear?”

  She looked panicked. “But I don’t know how to act . . . like that,” she protested.

  “Of course you do. Twelve years ago, a young farm woman from Fargone arrived at the Fleet Astronautics Academy. Surely you remember what she was like? How she walked, how she talked? You worked hard enough to change her.”

  The panic faded from her face, to be replaced with a thoughtful expression. “You mean I should just be me . . . the me of twelve years ago.” He nodded. “I can do that. Of course I can do that! If you only knew how hard I had to work to lose those manners and habits . . .” Her smile was rueful, tinged with slight bitterness. She straightened abruptly. “I can do it, Commodore . . . I mean, Captain. You’ll see.”

  He nodded in satisfaction. She sounded sincere. He could at least expect an honest effort from her. “Very well. Remember, your deadline is our jump out of empire space.”

  “I can do it, sir. You’ll see.” She stood again. “If that’s all, sir . . .”

  “That’s all, Tera. If I or any of the others can help, just ask.”

  She nodded, a determined expression on her face. “Thank you, sir. Right now, though, I think I’ll go have a chat with our Exec . . .”

  Unfortunately for Rom, she bumped into him in a passageway while she was still furious. She backed him against a bulkhead and, finger waving in his face, unloaded her anger and frustrations on him in a way that left him gasping in awe at her command of invective. Then she stomped off before he could get in a word of reply.

  The next two jumps, both to Empire systems, were uneventful. The crew used the time to practice their personas.

  For the first time, Kas felt that they had a good chance of carrying off the deception. Tera seemed determined to show Rom that she could be as uncouth and barbaric as he could. As a result, her persona was quite convincing. Finally Kas even had to ask her to tone it down, as few Fargonners were as crude as she was becoming.

  Gran’s attempts were also successful. Once again, Kas had to ask him to tone it down, as his accent began becoming all but unintelligible. But from his rolling gait, an observer would be sure that Gran just debarked from a fishing boat.

  Chapter 4

  They were as ready as they could be, but Kas was still nervous as they emerged from jump at Meron, the first of the Independent Systems.

  No casual dismissals here. A large space station picketed the jump point. Almost as soon as they emerged, a cutter cast off from the station and headed toward them. At the same time, the comm channels echoed demands that they cancel all orbital motion relative to the system’s sun and stand by to be boarded.

  The man that Kas and Rom greeted at the passenger airlock appeared to be middle aged. He wore a uniform of nauseous green adorned with braid and an array of medals so gaudy as to make Kas suppress a wince and he displayed an attitude to match.

  “Your papers!” he demanded. Next, he demanded their course data for all jumps since leaving Prime. Finally, he announced that a search party would be boarding to search Starhopper. At that point, Rom protested.

  “Aw, C’mon, Admiral!” he whined, “We ain’t goin’ nowhere near your damned planet. Ya can see we’re on a charter job. Exceptin’ for some mining machinery, all we’re haulin’ is a bunch of corpsicles straight fer the rim! We cain’t
hardly smuggle stuff to yer planet if we ain’t goin’ near it, can we?”

  The gaudily uniformed official sniffed. “Nevertheless, regulations require that all ships entering Meron space be searched. If you’ve nothing to hide, you shouldn’t object!”

  Rom broke into laughter, shaking his head.

  Kas tried to explain. “The only objection we have is to the delay, sir,” he said. “Our Astrogator should have us recalibrated and our next jump programmed in less than six hours. Two days to boost to the jump point, and we’ll be gone.”

  The official sniffed again. “I don’t think so. It’ll take at least a full day to search a ship this size.”

  Kas nodded. “Exactly, sir. We could be delayed for several days. We have delivery commitments. Penalties could turn a profitable charter into a dead loss for us. Isn’t there some way we could speed this up? As my purser mentioned, we’re not going to be approaching Meron. Perhaps you could do a quick inspection. I assure you, we’ve nothing to hide, and would be happy to show you anything you want to see.”

  “Yar,” Rom put in. “It could be worth some credits if we could avoid th’ delay.”

  The man stiffened. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

  “Oh, no, sir,” Kas hastened to reply. “My Purser was just saying that avoiding unnecessary delays could save us quite a lot of credits. We’d be happy to share some of those savings with someone who could expedite our passage.” He glared at Rom, and a slight movement of his head told Rom to disappear.

  “Why don’t we go to my cabin, sir,” Kas said, “and you can examine our papers while we discuss it over a cup of caf or a glass of Solian brandy.”

  The customs agent reluctantly allowed himself to be swept along to Kas’ cabin. He had proved resistant to Rom’s attempts to bribe him, but after several glasses of Solian brandy, he was persuaded to call the station and request permission to conduct an abbreviated search in person. This was evidently slightly unusual, but not extremely so, and the permission was granted in less than an hour.

  “You see, Captain,” the man said as he and Kas walked around Starhopper, poking into various niches, voids and compartments, “we can be reasonable when the situation warrants. As your rather . . . uh . . . forceful Purser pointed out, you won’t be approaching Meron. Since this is just a recal stop, a full search is unnecessary. But I would suggest he be more careful in future. Attempted bribery of a customs official is punishable by twenty years’ hard labor on Meron.” Kas hastily assured the man that Rom had no such intention.

  Abbreviated the search might be, but it was anything but cursory. The man poked about and examined for almost six hours. By the time he finished, Tera had completed her jump computations and recalibration and Kas was exhausted.

  He ushered the man into the main airlock and watched as he hooked up his safety line and jumped to his cutter. Kas sagged against the bulkhead next to the lock hatch. After a moment, he sighed and stalked off toward the bridge.

  In only minutes, they received permission to boost. As Starhopper began moving, Kas whirled on Rom.

  “Are you insane?” he demanded. “You could have got us all locked up for attempted bribery.”

  Rom grinned and shrugged. “Naw, no chance, Skipper. Y’don’t unnerstand how business is done out here. Yar, this’n was honest, but even honest customs agents know that bribes ‘r routine in a lotta the Independents. They don’t resent th’ offer, if it’s made tactfully. I jus’ din’t know ‘bout Meron.”

  “What about our next jump point, uh, Odell’s world?” Kas asked. “Is bribery routine there?”

  Rom nodded. “Been there once’t. Th’ bribes ain’t too bad, if I ‘member right.”

  Kas shook his head. “I’m glad they gave us so much cash; I wondered about that.”

  “That’s Imperial Intelligence at work. They’d know how things are out here.”

  Kas frowned. “All right. You’re the purser, bribes are your department. I’ll turn the cash over to you. Just try not to use all of it or land all of us in jail.”

  Rom shrugged. “It’s all a matter of how you approach ‘em. Y’gotta be tactful, see?”

  Tera turned from the astrogator’s station. “Oh, yes,” she said with broad sarcasm. “We can see that you’re a model of tact!” Rom grinned and blew her a kiss. She sniffed loudly, then turned back to her station. Kas reflected that it was the first time he’d ever seen a woman flounce while sitting down.

  During the two days’ travel to the jump point and the seventy-nine hours of the jump itself, Kas amused himself by watching Rom and Tera. They reminded him of school children. Rom continually teased and irritated Tera and she could be counted upon to overreact just enough to motivate Rom to continue. Kas thought he could detect the signs of a budding romance.

  It was four hours after they’d jumped that Kas received a call from Toj Kray. Kas was a bit surprised, as the big Bulworther tended to isolate himself in engineering, burying himself in technical journals and utterly unnecessary maintenance tasks.

  “Captain,” the big man rumbled, “you’d better be comin’ down to Engineering C-4.”

  Kas frowned. “I’ll be right there, Toj.” It must be important. The big man wouldn’t invite him into his solitary domain unless it was something important.

  He was puffing when he reached the Engineering C-4 compartment where Toj awaited him. “What is it, Toj?” he gasped.

  Wordlessly, Toj reached to point behind a generator housing.

  Kas leaned over and craned his neck. He frowned. “What is it? I assume it’s not part of the generator.”

  Toj shook his head. “Nossir,” he rumbled in his deep bass. “It isn’t for sure. I’m thinkin’ it’s some kind ‘er spook crap. A recorder or somethin’. Th’ question is whose?”

  Kas started to answer, then paused. “I see your point. Is it something Fleet Intelligence put on there? Or Imperial Intelligence? Or was it put there by a spy or saboteur at the yard itself? It could even have been placed by that customs agent at Meron. We were in this compartment.” He cursed. “Is it connected to anything?”

  Toj shrugged. “I dunno, sir. I don’t wanna try ter move it ‘thout knowin’ more, but I’m too big to get back there. And I don’t want to send any kinder snooper back there ‘til I know whether ‘tis a bomb or not.”

  Kas' face was grim as he thought about the gadget. If it was a bomb, and they disturbed it, they could detonate it and cause serious damage to Starhopper. But they had no choice. They couldn't leave it to be detonated at the time and place of the saboteur's choosing. And chances were good it was some kind of transmitter or beacon instead of a bomb. After a moment, he keyed the intership on the bulkhead. “Edro, this is the captain. Please come to Engineering C-4 right away.”

  Toj scowled blackly. First the Captain and now the comm tech was invading it. He understood the necessity, of course, but it still bothered him.

  Kas turned to Toj. “Edro is probably the only one of us that can get back there without disturbing that thing. Can you give him some kind of camera he can use to let us examine it?” Toj’s expression relaxed slightly. With a quick nod he dove into his tiny engineering office, returning just as Edro Jans hesitantly approached the hatch to the compartment.

  Kas caught sight of the small man. “Ah, Edro. Just the man we need. It appears someone has bugged us. Or perhaps bombed us. You’re just the man to help us find out.” He pointed out the object.

  Edro’s eyes widened as the job was explained to him, but he merely bobbed his head in assent. Toj presented a small box, two centimeters square that he attached to Edro’s shipsuit. A fine wire protruded a few centimeters from the box. Toj pulled the end of the wire, which unreeled smoothly, and attached the end to the back of Edro’s index finger.

  “‘Tis a camera," he explained. "Th’ wire has the lens, and is wound on a reel inside. When ye get back there, just point at anythin’ you want us to see. We’ll get a magnified view. You won’t. Sorry.”

  �
��Toj will tell you where to point,” Kas said. “He’ll have to try to figure out what the hell it is.” He hesitated. “Edro, it could be a bomb. Be very careful.”

  The little man’s eyes widened even more, but his lips tightened and he bobbed his head briskly. “Yes, sir,” he murmured so quietly that Kas had to strain to hear him.

  Edro examined the area thoughtfully, then lay on the deck on his back and slid beneath the generator. After considerable squirming, his head and right arm appeared on the other side, framed by cables. He extended the arm and a magnified image of the object appeared on the screen. It was a box about five centimeters square and two deep, but on the screen it looked huge.

  “To your left then, and a bit down,” Toj directed, and the image obligingly slid to one side and downward. “Good. Good.” Toj said. He touched a dial and the perspective approached the object even closer. “There’s summat’ looks like a wire on the right end o’ the thing,” he said. “Get as close to it as ever ye can ‘thout touchin’ it.” The camera zoomed in, and Toj nodded with satisfaction. “‘Tisn’t a bomb,” he reported.

  Kas's shoulders slumped in relief. He frowned. “Can you tell what it is?”

  Toj shook his head. “Not from here. Edro, trace ‘long the wire as far as ye can.” The screen image bobbed as it followed what looked on the screen like a cable, but was actually a hair-fine wire.

  Finally Toj sat back. “‘Tis some sort of communications device, I’d wager,” he said. “There’s nothin’ more I can tell ‘til we get it out.” Without waiting for a reply he disappeared once more into his engineering office, reappearing almost instantly with a thin-bladed plas scraper. “All me other scrapers‘re metal,” he shrugged. “I cu’d be wrong about it not being a bomb.” He smiled as Edro stiffened. “Don’t worry Edro,” he said mildly, “‘Tis just a precaution. I’m sure it’s not a bomb.”

  He handed the scraper over the generator casing, placing it in Edro’s hand. Then he resumed his place in front of the screen. “Captain, would ye be reachin’ over the generator and grabbin’ hold o’ the box? Edro can only get one arm in there, and he’ll have to scrape it off the generator casin’.”