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just as easy to project a bare wall as a live image of an island in an ocean.

The admiral entered. Today she also wore a one-piece jumper like most of the workers we’d seen, and not a lot different than the one I’d chosen. Only the pair of gold leaves on her collar made her stand out, however, she was the sort of person who always stood out, in a crowd or by herself. There was an aura of power around her, no matter what she wore.

“Good morning,” she said chattily as if we were old friends. “Have you eaten?”

I suspected she knew we hadn’t because a side-table was laden with fruit, baked goods, and juices. The admiral looked refreshed and ready to control the day. Her gray eyes found mine. “Something wrong?”

She’d already established she didn’t like lying or withholding information, and she didn’t like wasting time with indirect answers. I decided to go along with her. “I was just wondering how you were going to manipulate us today.”

Instead of anger or annoyance, she laughed. Genuinely laughed, which is hard to fake. Then she said, “Well, first I planned to ply you with tasty food and soft music to calm your nerves. Then I was going to compliment you both on whatever possible, using the old two-standards of leadership. Do you know what that is?”

“No,” I admitted.

She selected a sweet roll for herself and sat. Before taking a bite, she said, “That is where you give two compliments for every kick in the rear. I’m certain your captain can tell you more about it.”

Captain Stone selected a blue fruit I’d never seen and a small loaf of bread. Tea was poured and only I hadn’t gotten something to eat. My hand took a mahogany brown bread and a napkin, as the others had, almost as if I hadn’t selected it.

The bread was bitter, almost charred on the outside. It strangely tasted like what we’d waited for a baker on Roma to toss out so we could grab it before other vagrants could. I munched and waited.

Captain Stone opened with a compliment about the food, then the tea. Next, she asked, “What did your workmen and inspectors find out about our ship while we slept?”

The admiral barely turned in her direction at the directness of the question. “All you told me checked out. I took the liberty of notifying the owner of the ship as to its whereabouts because I didn’t realize you had “paying” passengers aboard. The company was extremely concerned about them. You were correct in a sizeable reward for salvage and the return of their property.”

“What else?”

“The two ships following behind yours wished to recover the cargo in your hold. They claim they do not know what it is or who paid them. We believe the story.”

“And you have not figured out who is behind this?”

“Not yet. We do have a clue or two about the cargo. Our people have determined it is biological, nonlethal, for a start.”

I snuck another loaf of burnt bread and when a lull came into their conversation, I asked, “Are you going to let us go?”

Instead of lying or deflecting, the admiral smiled at my directness and said, “I have not yet decided. After all, this is a secret installation and even word of its existence could be damaging to the war effort.

Captain Stone sat her cup down hard enough to chink on the saucer as she said, “You do understand that I’ve known of this location for over two standard years and didn’t speak of it.”

“No, I didn’t,” the admiral said. “That may change my decision, especially if you reveal how you learned of it.”

Captain Stone delayed answering as she poured more tea with her right hand, and her left was at her side out of sight of the admiral. A single finger shot out to attract my attention. That was our signal. She wanted me to provide gentle persuasion to the admiral.

I gave a slight nod of understanding.

She said, “About three years ago, my ship, the Guardia, delivered cargo to Delphi Six, which is not all that far from here, as the wormholes dictate. Delphi Six is a mining and processing world, providing quality steel often used in the construction of starships. They use an elevator secured to a small moonlet to take their metals from the ground to orbit. On that moon are several clubs, bars, taverns, saloons, and low-life stim houses.”

The admiral said, “We purchase metals from there. We also pay several undercover operatives to stop any talk of us.”

“I am a trader, and that means I keep my ears open for clues to potential customers. A minor clerk mentioned the huge increase in her paperwork since they converted two or three plants where they produce steel for ships. I wondered where it was all going.”

“So, you investigated?”

“And found that there seemed to be no market for the increased steel and plastic-steel production. It took almost a month for one of my people to find the buyer, which came from an employee on your home planet. After that, it took a year to find a spacer who worked on a ship that hauls goods and supplies here.”

“You bribed him?”

“Hired him. He used drugs on my ship that tangled his mind and after a month aboard, we had to dismiss him.”

The admiral rolled her eyes. “Not before you had our location.”

I enjoyed the sparing between the two, but even while it was happening, I used my mind to soothe the admiral’s temper and pushed warm thoughts of admiration for my captain. Nothing overt, just as Stone had asked, a gentle push to like and trust the woman sitting across from her.

The single finger was still extended, so I continued with the idea of trust. Captain Stone could be

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