Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [11]
The transporter’s biofilter strained out most alien parasites, but not all of them. Hence, the virus, which Greyhorse, the ship’s chief medical officer, had been pleased to declare was “not much worse than a head cold.”
Still, Paxton had been forced to replace the patient on her shift. Another com chief might have appointed someone else to do it, and gotten his usual hours of rest. But not Paxton. He never asked anyone to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself.
Ulelo attempted to respond in a friendly, even playful way. “Are you complaining, sir?”
He wasn’t by nature a playful person. However, he had come to realize that such banter was expected of him. It was expected of almost everyone on the ship, now that they had all gotten to know each other.
Paxton looked up at him and smiled a weary smile. “Not at all, Ulelo. Don’t mind me. I’m a little…tired, I guess.” With that, he finished what he was doing, got up, and moved aside.
Ulelo took the vacated seat and reviewed his superior’s report. Nothing unusual, he noted as he went over it. Nothing that would pique anyone’s interest.
That was fine with Ulelo. He didn’t want anyone to have a reason to take a look at the com logs, so the more routine they were, the better.
“See you later,” said Paxton. Then he headed for one of the aft consoles on some other bit of business, as he often did when his shift was over.
Ulelo waited a moment, until he was certain that Paxton wasn’t coming back. As he sat there, he could hear the soft chirping of the other consoles, the even hum of the warp engines. He had gotten so accustomed to them, he hardly noticed them anymore.
Finally, the lieutenant took a quick look around to make certain no one was watching him. No one was, of course. No one ever watched him.
But then, why should they? Ulelo was an officer in good standing, a trusted member of the Stargazer’s crew. His record showed that his actions were beyond reproach.
That was why he had been given the responsibility of sending and receiving any number of subspace messages, some of them containing delicate and even classified information. But not the kind he was preparing to send now.
The transmission he was setting up at that particular moment contained strategic data on the Stargazer’s operating systems. Ulelo had gathered it painstakingly over the course of the last few days.
None of his superiors had asked him to either gather it or send it. In fact, they would have been shocked to know of his actions in this matter, which was why he was working in secret—just as he had done so many times before, over and over again, since the day he first set foot aboard the Stargazer.
After all, there was more to Dikembe Ulelo than met the eye.
On the surface, he was like anyone else on the ship. But inside, he was the minion of another set of masters, and it was on their behalf that he pursued his clandestine mission.
His preparations complete, Ulelo tapped in the command that would send out the packet of information. Then he returned the data to the file it had come from—a personal file, never seen by anyone else—and erased any evidence that it had ever been accessed from the communications console.
Done, he thought.
But before Ulelo could take any pride in the notion, he felt something strange—something he hadn’t ever felt before on the bridge of the Stargazer.
Scrutiny.
Turning his head ever so slightly, he cast a glance in what he felt was the appropriate direction. It was then that he realized he was right. Someone was watching him, all right.
It was Lieutenant Paxton.
Why? Ulelo asked himself. Why was Paxton looking at him that way? What had he done to attract the man’s attention?
Trying not to give anything away, Ulelo turned back to his console and forced himself to do some work—legitimate work, this time. But his