Gauntlet - Michael Jan Friedman [37]
“That’s comforting.” The captain smiled a little sheepishly. “I appreciate your putting the matter in perspective.”
“It’s my job,” the doctor said.
“Nonetheless,” Picard insisted.
Greyhorse did his best to ignore the expression of gratitude. Emotions tended to make him uncomfortable, and gratitude was perhaps the worst in that regard.
“If you have any more trouble sleeping,” he said, “let me know and I’ll prescribe something. Outside of that, just try to relax. I don’t need to tell you that your getting all worked up won’t increase our chances of success.”
Picard nodded. “I’ll try to remember that.”
As he left the room, Greyhorse wasn’t sure that he had actually accomplished anything, or that the captain would sleep any more soundly from that point on. But at least he had made the attempt.
Juanita Valderrama was examining the sensor profile of an asteroid belt on the outskirts of a nearby solar system when Lieutenant Paxton appeared in her office.
“Got a minute?” he asked her.
Valderrama swiveled away from her monitor to face him. “Of course. Please . . . have a seat.”
Paxton came in and allowed the door to close behind him. Then he sat down in the seat next to hers. If his expression was any indication, it wasn’t anything trivial he wanted to talk about.
It was something rather serious.
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t normally tell tales out of school. But in this case, I think it would benefit everyone concerned.”
Valderrama regarded him for a moment, wondering what he was talking about. Then she said, “Go on.”
“Just a little while ago,” Paxton told her, “I overheard Chief Simenon talking to someone. It doesn’t matter whom, really. He was saying that he’d had a meeting with you in engineering.”
The science officer nodded. “That’s right.”
“You were talking about the sensors?”
“Yes. Mr. Simenon told me that he had enhanced them with Beta Barritus in mind. I thanked him.”
Paxton smiled benignly. “But unless I’m mistaken, you didn’t encourage him to do any better.”
Valderrama’s brow creased above the bridge of her nose. “He’s the chief engineer. I didn’t think—”
She stopped herself in midsentence. Judging by Paxton’s expression, he believed he had made his point.
“I didn’t think,” Valderrama sighed.
“You see what I’m getting at, right?”
The lieutenant nodded. “I should have pushed him to do better.”
It’s what she would have done when she was younger and new to the fleet. But over the years, she had somehow stopped caring so much. She had developed some bad habits.
Habits she was about to break.
This was Valderrama’s last chance to prove she still had what it took. The captain had placed his faith in her. It was up to her not to let him down.
“Thanks,” she told Paxton. “I appreciate your going out on a limb for me like this.”
He shrugged. “You’ll do the same for me one day. Just keep it under your hat, all right? Or no one will trust me when I tell them they’ve got a secure channel.”
Valderrama smiled. “My lips are sealed.”
And they would be.
Pug Joseph was lost in thought—so much so that his colleague seemed to appear out of nowhere.
This would likely have startled him even if his colleague hadn’t been more than seven feet tall and as blue as the sky on a summer day. “Geez,” Joseph blurted, recoiling in his seat, “did you have to sneak up on me like that?”
Vigo, the Stargazer’s senior weapons officer, favored him with a broad and well-meaning grin. “I didn’t sneak up on you. At least, that wasn’t my intention.”
Joseph blew out a breath and looked around the lounge. None of the dozen or so crewmen present seemed to have noticed his jumpiness. Or if they had, they weren’t making it obvious to him.
He looked up at Vigo again. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Deeply,” the Pandrilite observed. He sat down on the other side of a low-slung table, his knees coming almost to the level of Joseph’s shoulders. “Any particular reason for it?”
The security