Seas of Venus(37)

Johnnie's reaction to the bad news—the disastrous news that doomed the Blackhorse, Wenceslas Dome, and perhaps all of Mankind—was relief. Commander Cooke had been right all along; Captain Haynes looked a fool and an incompetent.

Johnnie knew his reaction made sense only on the emotional level, not intellectually . . .

But he was beginning to realize that most people acted on a primarily emotional level, himself included.

Johnnie jumped to solid ground. Like Haynes and his team, he was superfluous to the business of docking and shutting down the hydrofoil's systems.

Unlike Haynes, he hadn't any idea of what he ought to do next.

"Did you have a good trip, then, John?" called a voice from the pool of shadow at the base of one of the light standards.

Johnnie turned and blinked. "Yessir," he said.

He felt his lips rising in a cruel grin. "A better trip than Captain Haynes did, Uncle Dan. I carried out my mission."

Insects brought out by darkness buzzed enthusiastically around the men. The living sound almost buried the hum of the high-frequency generators in the epaulets of Blackhorse uniforms which repelled the bugs.

Johnnie slapped his cheek. Most of the bugs.

Dan gestured in the direction of the BOC. The two men fell in step with an ease that had nothing of training to it, in at least Johnnie's case; he and his uncle were just in synch.

"Haynes didn't let you into the negotiations, did he?" Dan asked when the dock and the men busy there were ten yards behind them.

"No sir." Should he have insisted on being present? "I didn't insist." No excuses. "I viewed the base arrangements and went aboard one of their battleships, the Holy Trinity."

Dan looked at him sharply. "That one," he said. "What's her status?"

"Combat ready. She's dirty because most of her crew's working on the St. Michael, but she's ready to go."

He cleared his throat. "Uncle Dan," he said, "they were going to move you to the screening forces. If the deal had gone through."

"Two birds with one stone, hey?" Dan chuckled. "That's better strategic planning than I'd have given Haynes credit for."

Johnnie's mind revolved possibilities as they marched toward the Operations Center. One of the aides opened the door for Haynes, and the trio disappeared inside.

"If we move very fast," Johnnie said carefully, "I don't think the Angels can have the St. Michael ready for action."

Dan pursed his lips and made a scornful pfft. "The St. Michael isn't going to turn the battle," he said. "For that matter, the Holy Trinity isn't going to turn the battle if it's just one more ship in the line. . . ."

The BOC's lighted facade loomed in front of them.

Johnnie rephrased the question in his mind and said, "Shall I wait in the lobby for you?"

His uncle pushed the first set of doors open. The air conditioning and anticipation made Johnnie shudder.

"No," said Dan. "I need you. To give honest answers to any questions you're asked—"

Johnnie opened the inner doors.

"—and to cover my back if we have to shoot our way out."

Johnnie blinked. Uncle Dan was smiling.

Probably the last clause was a joke.

Lieutenant Barton and Haynes' two aides waited in Admiral Bergstrom's outer office. The Admiral's secretary smiled tightly and said, "Commander, the Admiral and Captain Haynes are waiting for you."

"Right," said Dan. "For me and Ensign Gordon."

He reached for the door latch.

"Not—" began one of Haynes' men as he rose from his chair.

Uncle Dan's eyes met the lieutenant's and spiked him. Johnnie's right hand flexed instinctively as he turned also. He no longer assumed Dan had been joking.

The lieutenant sat down heavily.

"Right," Uncle Dan repeated. He pushed open the door.

"Captain Haynes," he said even before his foot had followed his hand into the inner office, "you excluded Senator Gordon's son from the negotiations which you—"

"Cooke, what are you—" the captain blustered.

"—botched. Botched," Dan continued in a rising voice as his left hand gestured Johnnie through the door beside him and let it close of its own weight. "For that reason alone it would be necessary for Ensign Gordon to be present now."

"Then I want Lieutenant Platt—"

"Walter," snapped Admiral Bergstrom, "for God's sake, shut up!"

The room froze.

"Gordon," the Commander in Chief resumed in a tired voice, "sit down. No trick shooting this time. Daniel, you sit down also."

He looked from one of his senior officers to the other. "We don't need to chew each other up, gentlemen," he said. "There are three very competent fleets out there—" he gestured "—ready and willing to accomplish the task."