Quinton, and a promising message from Chuck Merriman.
The reporter had made some subtle inquiries, and there was definitely media interest in an exclusive on the Dark Bomb, but it had to be something substantial.
Thomas frowned. His involvement with the project had been announced three weeks ago, and wasn’t news anymore, so he needed to conjure up an angle to give the story some
oomph
. He took a thoughtful sip of coffee as he considered how he might link his high-profile marriage to his professional success, but realized that bringing in Soma was getting off message.
This story had to be about
him
.
What he really needed was to get media exposure out of his role in
Neil Armstrong
’s research, but as neither the science officer nor the commanding officer, his role would be pretty peripheral.
He skimmed his messages again as the caffeine started to dull the throbbing in his skull. Jack Mallory had called during the night, he noticed with surprise. Nice kid, Jack. Dumb as a post, but at the same time smart as hell. He’d been instrumental in creating the proto-bomb in the first place, although he was certainly wreaking havoc aboard the
Armstrong
these days. He’d been a good source of information concerning activities aboard the
Armstrong
, though, more so even than what Thomas had been able to observe first-hand.
On an impulse he hit the reply button.
The Baryon screen indicated that the call was going through, and eventually lit up with Jack’s youthful features. Thomas was still surprised to see him without a broken, deformed face, but he was getting used to it.
“Good morning, Jack.”
The newly crafted face beamed in recognition. “Hi, sir. Thanks for calling me back.”
“Your first call was at three in the morning.”
A typically stunned expression replaced the smile. “What? But I…ohh. Time zones. Umm, well, thanks for calling me back first thing.”
Suddenly Thomas realized he was still in his bathrobe, and that his hair was probably a mess, so he didn’t bother correcting Jack’s assumption.
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t disturb me unless it was important.”
“Oh, I thought you’d want to know this, sir,” Jack replied. “Guess who came by the ship for a visit yesterday?”
“Who?”
“Breeze!” the young man said quickly. “She just swooped in with a couple of goons, and had a long meeting with the captain. She didn’t look too pleased when she left, and neither did he. What’s she got to do with Research, anyway?”
Nothing, Thomas mused, but she knew how to place herself at the center of the action even faster than he did.
“Thanks for letting me know, Jack,” he said. “I’ll look into it.” Disconnecting, he drained the rest of his coffee.
So Charity Brisebois was getting in the way again. Chandler said that he had one of his own staff appointed as project director. With a sinking heart, Thomas guessed who that might be.
Vacation be damned, he needed to act.
Leaving Soma to her restless slumber, Thomas scrubbed himself, donned an expertly pressed garrison uniform, and caught the first skycraft to Longreach. Then he boarded a cab to Astral Headquarters. He marched swiftly down the corridors he knew well enough, and into the receiving room of the Fleet’s newest flag officer.
The admiral’s flag lieutenant sat industriously at her desk in that outer room, turning curious eyes up to greet Thomas as he entered.
“Good afternoon,” he declared. “I need to see the admiral.”
Her cool expression indicated that she wasn’t going to be easily intimidated. No doubt a dozen people stormed into the office each day with the same demand, and no doubt Thomas was far from the most senior of them.
“The admiral’s very busy,” she replied. “May I take your name?”
“Lieutenant Commander Thomas Kane.”
“Please take a seat,” she said. “I’ll see what his schedule looks like.”
Thomas remained standing, watching as she manipulated her console in
The reporter had made some subtle inquiries, and there was definitely media interest in an exclusive on the Dark Bomb, but it had to be something substantial.
Thomas frowned. His involvement with the project had been announced three weeks ago, and wasn’t news anymore, so he needed to conjure up an angle to give the story some
oomph
. He took a thoughtful sip of coffee as he considered how he might link his high-profile marriage to his professional success, but realized that bringing in Soma was getting off message.
This story had to be about
him
.
What he really needed was to get media exposure out of his role in
Neil Armstrong
’s research, but as neither the science officer nor the commanding officer, his role would be pretty peripheral.
He skimmed his messages again as the caffeine started to dull the throbbing in his skull. Jack Mallory had called during the night, he noticed with surprise. Nice kid, Jack. Dumb as a post, but at the same time smart as hell. He’d been instrumental in creating the proto-bomb in the first place, although he was certainly wreaking havoc aboard the
Armstrong
these days. He’d been a good source of information concerning activities aboard the
Armstrong
, though, more so even than what Thomas had been able to observe first-hand.
On an impulse he hit the reply button.
The Baryon screen indicated that the call was going through, and eventually lit up with Jack’s youthful features. Thomas was still surprised to see him without a broken, deformed face, but he was getting used to it.
“Good morning, Jack.”
The newly crafted face beamed in recognition. “Hi, sir. Thanks for calling me back.”
“Your first call was at three in the morning.”
A typically stunned expression replaced the smile. “What? But I…ohh. Time zones. Umm, well, thanks for calling me back first thing.”
Suddenly Thomas realized he was still in his bathrobe, and that his hair was probably a mess, so he didn’t bother correcting Jack’s assumption.
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t disturb me unless it was important.”
“Oh, I thought you’d want to know this, sir,” Jack replied. “Guess who came by the ship for a visit yesterday?”
“Who?”
“Breeze!” the young man said quickly. “She just swooped in with a couple of goons, and had a long meeting with the captain. She didn’t look too pleased when she left, and neither did he. What’s she got to do with Research, anyway?”
Nothing, Thomas mused, but she knew how to place herself at the center of the action even faster than he did.
“Thanks for letting me know, Jack,” he said. “I’ll look into it.” Disconnecting, he drained the rest of his coffee.
So Charity Brisebois was getting in the way again. Chandler said that he had one of his own staff appointed as project director. With a sinking heart, Thomas guessed who that might be.
Vacation be damned, he needed to act.
Leaving Soma to her restless slumber, Thomas scrubbed himself, donned an expertly pressed garrison uniform, and caught the first skycraft to Longreach. Then he boarded a cab to Astral Headquarters. He marched swiftly down the corridors he knew well enough, and into the receiving room of the Fleet’s newest flag officer.
The admiral’s flag lieutenant sat industriously at her desk in that outer room, turning curious eyes up to greet Thomas as he entered.
“Good afternoon,” he declared. “I need to see the admiral.”
Her cool expression indicated that she wasn’t going to be easily intimidated. No doubt a dozen people stormed into the office each day with the same demand, and no doubt Thomas was far from the most senior of them.
“The admiral’s very busy,” she replied. “May I take your name?”
“Lieutenant Commander Thomas Kane.”
“Please take a seat,” she said. “I’ll see what his schedule looks like.”
Thomas remained standing, watching as she manipulated her console in
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