“Too bad she’s not like Jaylen in other ways. I was going to check on the poor lieutenants who acquired her as a roommate.”

  “And you want me along to hear any horror stories firsthand.”

  Desjani spread her hands. “If there are problems I want the admiral to be aware of them.”

  “You’re such a noble soul,” Geary said, standing up and stretching. “All right. Let’s go talk to Lieutenant Amarin.”

  Amarin was on duty in the engineering central control compartment, running maintenance checks on some of the equipment. She and the others in the compartment bounced to their feet when Desjani and Geary arrived. “At ease,” Geary told everyone before focusing on Amarin. “I just wanted to check on how things went with Dr. Cresida last night.”

  “No problems, sir,” Lieutenant Amarin said. “The doctor is a little . . . eccentric. But it’s okay. She’s nothing like Evil Esther. Right, Kari?”

  “Ancestors, no!” Lieutenant Kari Ipjian agreed. “Nothing like Evil Esther.”

  “Do I know Evil Esther?” Geary murmured to Desjani.

  “No,” Desjani replied. “She was transferred off the ship a couple of months before you were found. There were some, um, personal issues involved. So, Lieutenant Amarin, you haven’t had any issues with Dr. Cresida? Speak freely if you have.”

  “No, Captain. No issues,” Amarin said. “She’s one of those black magic doctors, right? Physics stuff? That’s better than one of the medical docs. They sometimes get to talking shop and it’s hard not to lose your lunch.”

  “I’ve been there,” Desjani said dryly. “All right. Keep me informed if there are any problems.”

  “Disappointed?” Geary asked after they’d left the engineering compartment.

  “Absolutely,” Desjani said.

  “I was going to go by the transmitter compartment and talk to Charban.”

  “I need to stop by there and make sure everything is fine,” Desjani said. “Have there been any issues with that history guy?”

  “History guy seems to be working out pretty well,” Geary said. “It occurs to me that the more different perspectives we get on the Dancers the better.”

  “Things usually work that way,” Desjani said. “Are you including Dr. Cresida in that?”

  “Yes. She said some interesting things yesterday.”

  “I guess every black hole does have an event horizon,” Desjani said.

  “Ah. Here comes another one of my junior officers.”

  Geary turned to see Ensign Duck waddling majestically down the passageway, his usual two Marine escorts a few paces behind. Ensign Duck’s walks had become routine by now, but everyone still got a kick out of them.

  This walk appeared to be routine as well, until Ensign Duck was about two meters from where Geary and Desjani were standing. Ensign Duck suddenly stopped walking, flaring his wings and emitting a harsh, loud quack at the empty space before him.

  “What the hell?” one of the Marines said. “He’s never—”

  Captain Desjani cut off the Marine’s words as she produced a sidearm from beneath her uniform and emptied the charge into the vacant space before Ensign Duck.

  ELEVEN

  INSTEAD of hitting the bulkhead, the energy bolts slammed into something short of it, other energies flaring, portions of someone appearing as parts of their stealth suit failed.

  Ensign Duck raced away from the fight, his two Marine escorts hurling themselves at the mysterious figure. The exchange of blows was too quick for Geary to follow, both Marines being knocked across the passageway.

  But their attack had given Captain Desjani time to slam another charge into her weapon. “Dauntless!” she shouted. “To me!”

  The figure in the stealth suit made a sharp gesture with one hand. Geary felt his arm hairs stand on end as his uniform’s defenses sensed a threat and energized. The dart fired at him hit that invisible shield a centimeter short of his uniform, bouncing off.

  Without waiting to see the results of their attack, the intruder turned to flee as Desjani emptied a second set of charges into them. Before they could get more than a few steps, the crew of Dauntless responded to their captain’s call. Geary kicked the failed dart against the nearest bulkhead to keep it out of the way as sailors came racing down the passageway from both directions. The first sailors to reach the attacker were knocked aside as the Marines had been, but more and more sailors came, filling the passageway on both sides, crushing up against the attacker so that their arms and legs were pinned.

  Masters-at-arms wove their way through the crowd, brandishing coil cuffs and shockers. So did Gunnery Sergeant Orvis, looking furious.

  “Let ’em breathe,” Captain Desjani ordered once the cuffs were in place on the wrists and ankles of the figure in the stealth suit. With sections of the suit’s stealth capability shot out or damaged by the fight, the attacker seemed to be a partial three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. As the sailors backed off, looking death at the person who’d invaded their ship, Desjani gestured to Orvis. “Get the stealth shut off.”

  Gunnery Sergeant Orvis pulled a device from his belt and slammed it into the attacker, who convulsed as a charge surged through the suit, overloading its circuits. As the intruder became fully visible, Orvis grabbed the mask covering the attacker’s head, pulling it off to reveal a nondescript-looking man whose expression revealed nothing. “Get a picture,” Orvis told the masters-at-arms.

  “Send that photo to Boundless,” Geary ordered. “There’s a dart here that probably contains poison. I need it secured safely as evidence.”

  Some of the sailors had been crowding close to him, but now edged back, nervous gazes on the dart lying at the junction of the deck and a bulkhead.

  “Get Dr. Nasr here now,” Desjani ordered Senior Chief Tarrani, who had just arrived in a rush. “Chief Slonaker,” she told the head master-at-arms, “I want that prisoner stripped to bare skin, I want every fiber of his suit gone over, I want every opening he’s got checked, and I want him internally scanned so closely that if there’s a stray molecule that shouldn’t be there we’ll find it.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Chief Slonaker said. “We’ll take him to the maximum-security brig cell.”

  “Hold on, please,” Gunnery Sergeant Orvis said. “Hotch, Francis, status.”

  The two Marines who’d been escorting Ensign Duck and had first gone after the attacker both looked the worse for wear. Hotch, one side of her face rapidly purpling as a large bruise formed, was on her feet but holding one arm. “Got a break, Gunny.”

  Francis winced as he inhaled. “I’ve probably got some broken ribs, Gunny.”

  “We’ll get them to sick bay!” some of the sailors offered, moving to help the injured Marines.

  Orvis leaned close to the prisoner, his face a mask of demonic rage. But his voice remained steady, which somehow made it sound even more frightening. “You hurt some of my Marines. Give me a reason, and I’ll show you what hurt is. You got it? Just give me a reason.”

  As Orvis and Chief Slonaker accompanied the masters-at-arms hauling the prisoner away, Captain Desjani held one arm high. “Well done, Dauntless! We’ll splice the main brace tonight!”

  Cheers echoed down the passageway at the promise of a booze ration with dinner.

  “Do you think Orvis will rough him up?” Geary asked.

  “Gunny Orvis?” Desjani said. “Not unless he gives the gunny a reason. Gunnery Sergeant Orvis is a professional. Oh, he’d love to have a reason to maul that guy, but you can be sure that Orvis made that threat at least partly to keep the guy from trying anything before he’s locked up.”

  “How long have you been carrying a weapon?”

  “Since a certain diplomatic reception.” She pointed down the passageway. “The Dancer transmitter is in there.”

  “Yeah,” Geary said. “That seems like an obvious target.”

  “That and you. When he was discovered he tried to kill you, so that must have been a backup instruction. Or didn’t you notice?”

  “I noticed,” Geary said.

  “This is where you thank me for having those automated defenses hidden in your working uniform,” Desjani added.

  “Thank you for having those automated defenses hidden in my working uniform.” Geary looked in the direction the prisoner had been hauled. “He’s not crew?”

  “Nope. Definitely not.”

  “How’d he get aboard?”

  “Don’t know. Going to find out.” With an approving wave to those sailors still in view, Desjani headed in the direction of the ship’s brig where the cells were located.

  He nearly followed, but decided to check on the alien transmitter room.

  Only General Charban was present. He nodded in greeting. “I heard and saw part of it. You might want to take a seat.”

  “Why?” Geary asked, startled to realize as he sat down that his legs were wobbly.

  “Someone just tried to kill you, and your brain is finally catching up with your reflexes.” Charban smiled in a sad way. “I know. You’re a veteran of a lot of battles. But you’re not used to being targeted personally from close up. It’s pretty nerve-racking once your brain has time to realize what happened.”

  “There were two assassination attempts on me at Unity,” Geary said, feeling embarrassed to be having trouble handling this latest attack.

  “You were in public, weren’t you? Focused on presenting the right image after the attacks. But, here, you’re in private. There’s nothing to forestall your natural reactions.”

  “I guess you’ve been personally targeted more than I have,” Geary said. “Ground forces is a different world.” He breathed in and out slowly. “Still, I have been in fleet battles.”

  “Your first space battle was probably rough afterwards, though, right?” Charban asked.

  Geary smiled slightly even though he felt nothing like humor at the memory. “My first battle was when I was in command of Merlon at Grendel. Afterwards was . . . about a century later when I was thawed out of survival sleep.”

  “That must have been very difficult,” Charban said. “More so than I’d realized. All right now?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” Geary looked about him. “Where are the others?”

  “Lieutenant Iger rushed off to see what he could contribute to the investigation of the intruder. Lieutenant Jamenson had already taken Dr. Cresida and our historian to the ship’s store to pick up some essential items they didn’t have with them, so all three of them missed the fun.” Charban looked around the compartment as well. “Interesting that the intruder was caught near here.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Geary said.

  “I was told this place has special security features to spot any bugs that tried to transmit what they overheard.”

  “That’s right,” Geary said. “Which makes it likely that any bugs planted in here were probably set to record, not transmit. Once picked up their data can be downloaded. When was the last time this compartment had a security sweep?”

  “About two weeks ago,” Charban said.

  “I’m going to set up another as soon as possible. We need to know if someone was trying to find out what we were saying to the Dancers and what replies we received.”

  Charban made a face. “Which they could have easily determined simply by listening in on the transmitter in Macadams’s hands.” He brightened. “But Macadams won’t allow anyone else near it. The buffoon actually helped us out by making our internal spy’s job harder. Oh, the Dancers did finally give an answer to our questions about those two ships that seem to be those of yet another species. Would you like to hear all of it?”

  “How long is all of it?” Geary asked.

  “Three words. ‘Ships are Taon.’ ”

  “Three—?” Geary fought down an urge to say three words in reply to the Dancers, far-from-diplomatic words that would convey his frustration. “What does that even mean?”

  “Technically,” Charban said, looking weary again, “it might be an answer to the questions we posed. Who do the ships belong to? Are they representative of another intelligent species? And the Dancers replied, ‘Ships are Taon.’ Which would mean Taon is the name of the other species.”

  “A technically correct answer that tells us nothing but the name of the other species.” Geary rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Are the Dancers trying to make us angry?”

  General Charban drummed the fingers of one hand on the table near the transmitter. “If Senn’s idea about what the Dancers are doing is right, and I think it makes a lot of sense that they’d be trying to herd us in the direction of their desired outcome, then my guess would be that our arrival caught the Dancers here flat-footed. They don’t know what we’re supposed to be told to achieve the desired herding, so they’re telling us as little as possible while awaiting detailed guidance. That plan they spoke of needing, in other words.”

  “That sounds plausible.” Geary stood up, gratified to feel his legs steady under him once more. “Unfortunately, it’s just another guess.”

  “Guesses are all we have, Admiral.”

  He had to leave it at that, because Charban was absolutely right.

  * * *

  TANYA Desjani stood at the hatch to his stateroom. “Colonel Webb is trying to get a hold of you. Before you talk to him, I want to tell you that the probable source of our intruder was one of the routine fleet shuttle runs that have stopped at Boundless and then later on Dauntless.”

  “We’re sure he came from Boundless?”

  “Yes, sir, we are. He’s part of the crew. Between him and that Lieutenant Commander George you told me about I’m starting to wonder how many of Boundless’s crew are secretly working for somebody else.”

  “I’m starting to wonder who did the security screens on that crew,” Geary said. “All right. Let’s see what Webb has to say.”

  Colonel Webb appeared on the display, looking happier than Geary had ever seen him before. “Our stealth spy is Maxwell Kaliphur, one of the section lead waitstaff on Boundless. That’s the name he’s been going under, anyway. It was a perfect cover. As long as he said he was delivering something to someone he could go just about anywhere on the ship. If no one could find him, he could say he’d been doing a delivery. And no one ever pays attention to mid-level waitstaff.”

  “Does Kaliphur have a roommate?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” Webb shook his head ruefully. “Boundless has so many staterooms a lot of the crew have single accommodations. A section lead on the waitstaff was the lowest-ranking member who could get a single room. We’re searching his room now. So far, we’ve found nothing. I’m assuming he has a second location somewhere aboard where any compromising materials are safely hidden.”

  “We’re still searching him and his stealth suit and other items he had with him,” Geary said. “As far as I know, we haven’t found anything that identifies who he’s working for and why.”

  “But he did try to kill you when he was spotted?”

  “Yes, he did.” So simple and short an answer to such a question felt strange. “It turned out to be the same kind of nerve agent–loaded dart that killed Inglis.”

  “That doesn’t mean he was the one who offed your sailor,” Webb cautioned. “I can name three or four outfits off the top of my head who could’ve provided that kind of weapon.”

  Geary stared at Webb’s image. “Are you saying there may be more spies running around in stealth suits in this fleet?”

  “We can’t rule it out, Admiral. I request full access to the suit Kaliphur was wearing and anything he was carrying.”

  “Granted,” Geary said, not happy to realize that Webb’s warning made sense. “Do you think catching Kaliphur means all of your people are off the hook?”

  “I’m leaning that way. But I want to talk to this Kaliphur myself,” Webb said. “A link to his cell will be good enough. And I’d like to send one of my sergeants to look him over in person and assist in his interrogation if you have no objection.”

  That last caused Geary to hesitate. “Colonel . . .”

  Webb shook his head. “I’m not talking torture, Admiral. We’re not stupid. I want real answers, not whatever reply that guy thinks will stop the pain. If Kaliphur has training against interrogation like my people have received, my sergeant might be able to spot that.”

  “In that case, please send your sergeant over,” Geary said.

  “One thing I’m very curious about, and I hope you can tell me. How’d you spot him?” Webb asked. “The preliminary data I’ve seen on that stealth suit is that it’s a step beyond the latest official model. He was as close to invisible as any human can be. Are your ship’s internal sensors that good?”

  “One of our ensigns spotted him,” Geary said.

  “An ensign?”

  “He’s a duck.”

  “A duck.” Colonel Webb actually laughed, a sound Geary had never expected to hear from him. “You’ve got a duck running security patrols?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Geary said.

  “That turned out to be a smart move! All right, I’ll send over Sergeant Tyminska. If there’s anything to be learned from Kaliphur, she’ll see it. Where’d you get your duck, by the way?”

  “I’d have to ask the Marines who smuggled it aboard at Varandal.”

  “Why didn’t I already guess that Marines were involved?” Webb smiled again. “I’m glad you came through this all right, Admiral.”

  “Me, too.” The call ended, Geary looked at Desjani, who had listened silently. “Our boss-level Wendigo is happy. Should that reassure us or worry us?”

  “Beats me,” she said. “But we haven’t actually caught him doing anything wrong. If Webb is playing both sides he’s doing a really good job of it. Oh, one other thing. Those two ships that don’t look like Dancer ships have left the Dancer orbital facility they docked at and are headed back toward the jump point they arrived at.”