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ship s dead in the dirt. He cracked one up their landleg socket while they
were gawking at us. Must have been bloody under  em!
Quent jolted to a thump on his back. Sylla climbed down, grinning. Svensk
arched his neck his bony beak was not adapted for expression.
 Is he all right? called Appleby s voice.  I fixed some hot jam truffles.
 So that was the anomaly, said Svensk.  Incredible. The nutritive drive of
the Human female.
 Bloody good, too, said Pomeroy. He jerked to his board.  Holy Space 
 What is it?
 The
Jasper just hailed us, he told them.  She s coming by. Five minutes earlier
and we d all been up the pipe.
He sagged again and reached for his bulb.
 By the Path! Imray howled on the voder.  You pick me up or I
sprücher you too.
Quent was clumsy with exhaustion by the time they got the rocket module stowed
and the hot drive unit back to Morgan. He gave a perfunctory glance at the
wrecker ports and then followed the others to the bridge, where Pomeroy was
watching the grounded Drakes.
 I take over, son. Imray sprawled in his command chair, rolling his hide
luxuriously.
 Watch tight. Bad mess they get loose before Farbase come. He chomped a jam
tart.
 Are you all ready for the bad news? Pomeroy wheeled around to face them.
 Remember that
Gal News man we ducked at Farbase? He s on the shuttle. Coming here.
Imray choked.
 Wants to interview you. Pomeroy pointed at Quent.  And Appleby, too.
Quent shut his eyes.  He can why won t they let me alone? Absently he
fingered the laser by his console.
 Admiral Quent s son in battle with Drake pirates, Pomeroy grinned sourly,
 while
Admiral Coatesworth s fiancée cheers? His board s all lit up.
 This rather cooks it, said Svensk. Sylla was drumming his claws.
They all looked at Quent.
 What you tell him, son?
 Tell  em, Quent muttered exhaustedly.  Why, I ll tell  em the ship stinks
and your computer is full of mush and the engineroom is a fugnest  his voice
rose  infested by a spook who has you so terrorized you have to bribe him to
move the ship. And my fellow officers are a set of primitive jokers captained
by a maniac who has to resort to physical force and the only Humans who can
stand the ship are an unshaven alcoholic and a madwoman who buggers the
sensors with fudge machines and underwear, and Heysu
Caristo! He rubbed his neck.  My first ship. Look, I m going to sack out,
alright? He pushed off for the ladder.
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 You tell them that? Imray demanded, beaming.  Flying fugnest?
 Hell no, why should I? It s not true.
He pulled to the shaft and rammed into Imray s hard paw.
 Son, you got to.

Huh?

 Tell them can t stand. Want new job. Must! Imray was shaking them both for
emphasis.
 Wait one minute. Quent disengaged himself.  That s exactly what you were
putting me on to think, wasn t it? But why? He frowned around at them.  Why?
I mean, hell, I m for integration.
 Precisely the problem, said Svensk.
Imray whacked his thigh exasperatedly.
 Who you think build this boat?
 Well, it s a Human design 
 Human fix up. Is build by Svenka people, original. Was part their navy. Space
Force say, indefinite loan. Little boats, you never hear. Space Force come
along, make treaty. Suck up little boats. Even ants they got some type space
boat, vernt
, Svenka?
 More of a pod, I believe. Svensk crossed his long legs.
 Something, anyway. Son, you think like your father say, all en-aitch people
want integrate with Space Force?
 Well, uh, said Quent.  The Gal Equality party.
 Sure, sure. Imray nodded.  Some en-aitch people want be officer big
starship, is fact.
Also fact, en-aitch people want have say in Gal Council. But is different
here.
He leaned back, folded his arms.
 Here is original en-aitch space force, us little boats. We been on these
boats long time.
Long, long time. We been patrol since was no sector, eh Syll? When Humans come
with us, is only individual Humans. One here, one there. Pom know. But we not
integrated with you.
You is integrated with us.
 Bravo! cried Sylla.
 Hear, hear, said Svensk gravely.
 But, what  said Quent.
 The captain means, Pomeroy told him,  that he s not about to get integrated
with the
Space Force. None of us are. We do our job. They can stow their sociological
programs. Their directives. Channels. Personnel fitness profiles. Rotation and
uptraining tours. Pisgah! If this integration trail business goes green, we ve
had it. And  he poked his finger at Quent  you are a prime test case,
Lieutenant.
 Even Morgan they try steal, Imray rumbled angrily. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]