reserve-and I just gave him a rough time for the sake of a cheap laugh." He shook his head ruefully. "I just love negotiating contracts with someone who's already annoyed at me."
"Maybe you could wait to talk to him, sir," Armstrong suggested. "Maybe it would be easier after he's had a chance to forget about the last round ... and you've had a chance to get some sleep."
"It's a tempting thought," Phule said, rising to his feet, "but I'd better try to catch up with him now. I don't think I could sleep, anyway, with this hanging over our heads."
A casual stroll through the ship's more popular gathering spots failed to locate Tullie Bascom, so Phule began a more careful search through the less frequented areas.
"Excuse me ... Gabriel, isn't it?" he said to a Legionnaire he found sitting alone in one of the smaller lounges.
"Sir?" the man responded, rising to his feet.
"As you were," Phule said, waving him back to his chair. "I was just wondering if you had seen Tullie Bascom recently."
"I think I heard him come by a while ago," the Legionnaire reported. "I didn't look around, but he was telling someone that he was going to his cabin to get some sleep."
"Okay. Thanks." The commander sighed and headed off down the corridor toward his own quarters.
So much for that idea. Maybe it was just as well. He should probably do a little more checking as to the actual necessity for contracting Tullie's crew for backups before beginning negotiations. Besides, his lieutenants were right-he could use a bit of sleep to clear his mind. Maybe he could get Beeker to ...
Phule suddenly halted in his tracks as realization struck him.
The Legionnaire, Gabriel, had been sitting alone in the lounge.
While Phule and Tusk-anini weren't the only night owls in the company, the Legionnaires by and large were social animals, tending to gather together in their off hours, and to his knowledge Gabriel was no exception. Rather than being at one of the normal ship hangouts, however, the Legionnaire had been sitting alone, without a book or work in sight-not even a deck of cards.
Abandoning his plan for sleep, the commander retraced his steps back to the lounge.
Gabriel was still sitting there, sprawled in an easy chair with his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling.
"Are you feeling all right, Gabriel?" the commander said, speaking gently.
While some of the Legionnaires were borderline hypochondriacs, others were more like children, hiding it when they felt ill rather than reporting to the ship's doctor.
"What? Oh. No, I feel fine, sir," Gabriel said, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone with his thoughts.
"Is there something bothering you?" Phule pressed. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"
The Legionnaire hesitated. "It's ... well ... I'm afraid, sir. Of this."
He made a vague gesture, encompassing the air in front of him.
"I ... I'm not sure I understand." Phule frowned. "What is it you're afraid of? The new assignment?"
"No ... this," the man said, repeating his gesture. "You know ... space travel."
"I see," the commander said. He had encountered nervous travelers in the past, but not recently, and he tended to assume that everyone was as accustomed to space travel as he was. "Haven't you ever been on a ship before?"
"Sure," the Legionnaire said. "A couple of times. But it always affects me the same way. I keep thinking about what will happen if anything goes wrong. Life pods may be effective for interplanetary travel, but for interstellar, we wouldn't stand a chance. The only choice would be between dying fast or slow."
Phule thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.
"Sorry, Gabriel," he said. "I can't help you with that one."
"That's
"Maybe you could wait to talk to him, sir," Armstrong suggested. "Maybe it would be easier after he's had a chance to forget about the last round ... and you've had a chance to get some sleep."
"It's a tempting thought," Phule said, rising to his feet, "but I'd better try to catch up with him now. I don't think I could sleep, anyway, with this hanging over our heads."
A casual stroll through the ship's more popular gathering spots failed to locate Tullie Bascom, so Phule began a more careful search through the less frequented areas.
"Excuse me ... Gabriel, isn't it?" he said to a Legionnaire he found sitting alone in one of the smaller lounges.
"Sir?" the man responded, rising to his feet.
"As you were," Phule said, waving him back to his chair. "I was just wondering if you had seen Tullie Bascom recently."
"I think I heard him come by a while ago," the Legionnaire reported. "I didn't look around, but he was telling someone that he was going to his cabin to get some sleep."
"Okay. Thanks." The commander sighed and headed off down the corridor toward his own quarters.
So much for that idea. Maybe it was just as well. He should probably do a little more checking as to the actual necessity for contracting Tullie's crew for backups before beginning negotiations. Besides, his lieutenants were right-he could use a bit of sleep to clear his mind. Maybe he could get Beeker to ...
Phule suddenly halted in his tracks as realization struck him.
The Legionnaire, Gabriel, had been sitting alone in the lounge.
While Phule and Tusk-anini weren't the only night owls in the company, the Legionnaires by and large were social animals, tending to gather together in their off hours, and to his knowledge Gabriel was no exception. Rather than being at one of the normal ship hangouts, however, the Legionnaire had been sitting alone, without a book or work in sight-not even a deck of cards.
Abandoning his plan for sleep, the commander retraced his steps back to the lounge.
Gabriel was still sitting there, sprawled in an easy chair with his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling.
"Are you feeling all right, Gabriel?" the commander said, speaking gently.
While some of the Legionnaires were borderline hypochondriacs, others were more like children, hiding it when they felt ill rather than reporting to the ship's doctor.
"What? Oh. No, I feel fine, sir," Gabriel said, suddenly aware that he was no longer alone with his thoughts.
"Is there something bothering you?" Phule pressed. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"
The Legionnaire hesitated. "It's ... well ... I'm afraid, sir. Of this."
He made a vague gesture, encompassing the air in front of him.
"I ... I'm not sure I understand." Phule frowned. "What is it you're afraid of? The new assignment?"
"No ... this," the man said, repeating his gesture. "You know ... space travel."
"I see," the commander said. He had encountered nervous travelers in the past, but not recently, and he tended to assume that everyone was as accustomed to space travel as he was. "Haven't you ever been on a ship before?"
"Sure," the Legionnaire said. "A couple of times. But it always affects me the same way. I keep thinking about what will happen if anything goes wrong. Life pods may be effective for interplanetary travel, but for interstellar, we wouldn't stand a chance. The only choice would be between dying fast or slow."
Phule thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.
"Sorry, Gabriel," he said. "I can't help you with that one."
"That's
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