the short-term concessions that hostages can buy. So we've gotta wonder, what were they after?”
Finder nodded with the whole upper half of his body. “Yeah, and why was there an illegal, nuke-engined, missile-laden hot rod waiting in the weeds to spirit them away?”
Lee nodded. “We have too many questions and not enough answers—but I don't think we're going to find any new ones just by combing the ship, again. I think we have to expand the search.”
“To where?” Finder asked.
“To the one place that might have answers, and which we can get to: Callisto. That's where the Fragrant Blossom was heading.”
Bernie nodded. “And you think that the ‘mutiny' was planned to make sure she didn't get there?”
“More specifically, to make sure that something or someone on board didn't get there.”
Finder frowned. “So you think someone on Callisto was waiting to receive the goods? Maybe the guy who sent the warning about the Blossom being overdue?”
Bernie shook his head. “No, that would be too obvious. And besides, Callisto doesn't get a lot of ships in—maybe four a year, tops. So a lot of people are going to be eagerly waiting on each one of those hulls for supplies, building materials, new personnel, forwarded cargo.”
Lee nodded. “Yes, but somewhere in the haystack of the Blossom's cargo hold, there just might be that one incriminating needle of evidence that will point to someone who was waiting for something not on the manifest, something secret.”
The communications rating called through the ready room door. “Skipper, incoming reply to your last transmission.”
“Thank you, Rating. Pipe it in.”
The screen brightened. Mann was seated as before but appeared to be on the verge of fidgeting. “Lieutenant Strong, it is my professional opinion that your comparative youth and the uncommon stress of the last few hours has you imagining perfidies, plots, and political renegades where none exist. It is an understandable after-effect of combat, but you must put these phantasms behind you. You have work to do and a patrol route to complete. You are to take the Fragrant Blossom in tow and make for the nearest secure Earth Union facility at best speed. You are not to conduct any farther forensic surveys of the ship's contents; that will be carried out by the on-site authorities. Farther communications on this matter are prohibited, except insofar as you must coordinate with the Earth Union facility at which you will turn over the derelict ship. If, since your initial report, you have detected anything anomalous or unusual on board the Fragrant Blossom, you are to report it now. I await your final transmission.”
After a few seconds, the communications rating prompted over the intercom, “Sir, do you wish to record your reply?”
Lee exhaled slowly, leaned back from the communications hub. “I will not be sending a personal reply. Simply transmit that I have nothing farther to report, that I have received and understood my orders, and will be under way to the nearest secure Earth Union Facility within the hour. Conclude with my regards to Coordinator Mann, and my thanks.”
Finder jerked his head toward the now-blank screen. “That bastard Mann should have let you follow up on the evidence, finish this investigation.”
Lee smiled. “Oh, but he did.” He punched the intercom stud, feigning obliviousness to the matched stares on the faces of his senior staff. “Helm?”
“Yes, Skipper?”
“Make fast the Fragrant Blossom for towing. Navigator?”
“Here, Sir!”
“Plot a course for Callisto. As soon as the helmsman signals that the Blossom is securely in tow, execute at best speed.”
“Yes, sir!”
Lee turned back to his goggling senior staff and smiled.
“You're trying to get yourself court-martialed,” hypothesized Bernie.
“I am obeying orders,” corrected Lee. “You said it yourself, we always follow regulations on the Gato. To the letter, in this case.”
Finder's face brightened with comprehension. “Because Mann told you to head to the nearest secure Earth Union facility. Which, given our current position is Callisto.”
“Yes, it's the closest—by about a thousand kilometers.”
Bernie stared balefully. “Skipper, you know Mann wasn't including Callisto in the list of options.”
“Do I, Bernie? He said ‘the closest.' If he had any exceptions in mind, it was—by regulations—his responsibility to make them explicit.”
“Lieutenant, Callisto is off-limits. We're not even allowed to go there.”
“That's where you're wrong, Bernie. You're not allowed to go there. No Upsider is, unless they are on a government contract to help build the Outbounders' interstellar colony ships. But as a Customs Patrol officer, I have clearance to go to the facility and inspect it, if I deem it necessary to