two more raids lined up; if they go well, we’ll only be eight percent short of optimum. Armanent will be tight in terms of quantity, but the new lasers will offset that. We should be able to field a fleet of approximately 330 Falcons and 150 Corvets. About a third of them will be hangared at the Rhea base.”
Ussher smiled with evident satisfaction.
“Nearly five hundred ships—a fleet to rock Centauri! I can always count on FO. Jan, we’d be lost without you.”
Barret let the words slip without thinking. “Especially with Alex gone?”
Ussher seemed to freeze; his smile faded slowly.
“The Phoenix doesn’t depend on any single man. Ransom wasn’t indispensable.”
“And Dr. Riis?”
“I said
no
man is indispensable. His loss was a tragedy, of course, but the Phoenix survived it.”
Barret sighed, his brief defiance fading with that expiration of breath. We’ve survived, he thought, and yet . . .
“Jan? Is something bothering you? Please, don’t hesitate to unburden yourself to me. Something
is
bothering you.”
“Only . . . rumors, Predis.”
Ussher’s eyes narrowed, but he was still smiling.
“Well, then, perhaps you should tell me about them and let me put your mind at ease. After all, if we can’t be honest with each other, where are we?”
Barret was sorry he’d let the conversation take this turn, but he couldn’t just cut Predis off without an answer.
“I’ve heard rumors about the power malfunction last week, that there was a newscast during the—the blackout about Dr. Riis.”
“Am I to understand the coincidence has been given some deeper significance?”
“Well, yes. They’re saying you . . . engineered the failure to make sure no one in Fina heard the newscast.”
Ussher averted his eyes, as if to hide the hurt chagrin that briefly seemed to slip out of control.
“
They
say. You’ve
heard
. Really, Jan, I never thought you, of all people, would be taken in by this malicious gossip. You know where it starts.”
“Predis, I didn’t say I was taken in. It’s just that—well, I just wondered.”
“Exactly. Jan, that’s what they want. They want people to ‘just wonder.’ If anything out of the way happens around here, it gets blamed on me. Like that unfortunate incident when Commander Venturi was wounded. No one gives me a chance to defend myself; no one has the guts to accuse me to my face. And in that case, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Venturi’s so-called friends didn’t set up that ambush. But
I’m
the one who gets blamed.”
Barret frowned, feeling the heat in his cheeks, and he wasn’t really sure whom Ussher meant by “they” and “so-called friends.”
“I’m sorry, Predis, I didn’t mean—”
“I know, Jan. Actually, I’m glad to know what’s being said behind my back, and it certainly isn’t your fault.”
Barret hesitated, then, “Predis, I talked to one of our agents in Leda who heard the newscast. The SSB said Dr. Riis
had
escaped. He was rescued by two men. One of them called himself Ransom. That’s . . . what they said.”
Ussher’s easy laugh was the last thing Barret expected.
“Well, that wasn’t the story they told week
before
last. Jan, you don’t trust any news item the SSB puts out, do you? The old divide-and-conquer ploy; sow doubt among the enemy. Besides, if Dr. Riis
did
escape, where
is
he? Where’s Ransom? Can you answer me that?”
Barret shook his head. “No.”
“Of course not.” Ussher glanced at his watch pointedly. “Jan, I have a departmental staff meeting coming up. If you’ll excuse me. . . .”
Barret nodded, reminded that Garris and the TacComm staff were still waiting for him.
“I have work of my own. Goodbye, Predis.”
If he responded, it wasn’t before the doorscreens clicked on between them.
Uniforms. Barret wondered why the idea rankled so much.
Undoubtedly, they were necessary. Still, it didn’t seem right.
But there wasn’t time to worry about it. Concord Day was
Ussher smiled with evident satisfaction.
“Nearly five hundred ships—a fleet to rock Centauri! I can always count on FO. Jan, we’d be lost without you.”
Barret let the words slip without thinking. “Especially with Alex gone?”
Ussher seemed to freeze; his smile faded slowly.
“The Phoenix doesn’t depend on any single man. Ransom wasn’t indispensable.”
“And Dr. Riis?”
“I said
no
man is indispensable. His loss was a tragedy, of course, but the Phoenix survived it.”
Barret sighed, his brief defiance fading with that expiration of breath. We’ve survived, he thought, and yet . . .
“Jan? Is something bothering you? Please, don’t hesitate to unburden yourself to me. Something
is
bothering you.”
“Only . . . rumors, Predis.”
Ussher’s eyes narrowed, but he was still smiling.
“Well, then, perhaps you should tell me about them and let me put your mind at ease. After all, if we can’t be honest with each other, where are we?”
Barret was sorry he’d let the conversation take this turn, but he couldn’t just cut Predis off without an answer.
“I’ve heard rumors about the power malfunction last week, that there was a newscast during the—the blackout about Dr. Riis.”
“Am I to understand the coincidence has been given some deeper significance?”
“Well, yes. They’re saying you . . . engineered the failure to make sure no one in Fina heard the newscast.”
Ussher averted his eyes, as if to hide the hurt chagrin that briefly seemed to slip out of control.
“
They
say. You’ve
heard
. Really, Jan, I never thought you, of all people, would be taken in by this malicious gossip. You know where it starts.”
“Predis, I didn’t say I was taken in. It’s just that—well, I just wondered.”
“Exactly. Jan, that’s what they want. They want people to ‘just wonder.’ If anything out of the way happens around here, it gets blamed on me. Like that unfortunate incident when Commander Venturi was wounded. No one gives me a chance to defend myself; no one has the guts to accuse me to my face. And in that case, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of Venturi’s so-called friends didn’t set up that ambush. But
I’m
the one who gets blamed.”
Barret frowned, feeling the heat in his cheeks, and he wasn’t really sure whom Ussher meant by “they” and “so-called friends.”
“I’m sorry, Predis, I didn’t mean—”
“I know, Jan. Actually, I’m glad to know what’s being said behind my back, and it certainly isn’t your fault.”
Barret hesitated, then, “Predis, I talked to one of our agents in Leda who heard the newscast. The SSB said Dr. Riis
had
escaped. He was rescued by two men. One of them called himself Ransom. That’s . . . what they said.”
Ussher’s easy laugh was the last thing Barret expected.
“Well, that wasn’t the story they told week
before
last. Jan, you don’t trust any news item the SSB puts out, do you? The old divide-and-conquer ploy; sow doubt among the enemy. Besides, if Dr. Riis
did
escape, where
is
he? Where’s Ransom? Can you answer me that?”
Barret shook his head. “No.”
“Of course not.” Ussher glanced at his watch pointedly. “Jan, I have a departmental staff meeting coming up. If you’ll excuse me. . . .”
Barret nodded, reminded that Garris and the TacComm staff were still waiting for him.
“I have work of my own. Goodbye, Predis.”
If he responded, it wasn’t before the doorscreens clicked on between them.
Uniforms. Barret wondered why the idea rankled so much.
Undoubtedly, they were necessary. Still, it didn’t seem right.
But there wasn’t time to worry about it. Concord Day was
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