Adele smiled more broadly. He'd never before seen her show such obvious amusement.
"Well, I'd have worried when things calmed down some," he said in exasperation. "For pity's sake, woman, it's a figure of speech."
"It's a piece of nonsense," Adele said. "I've seen you when things go wrong, remember?"
"Yes, well," Daniel said, embarrassed now for a different reason. "There isn't time to think, but the civilians don't understand that. Sorry to have been treating you like a civilian."
His foot caressed the hull again. The rigid toe-cap had no feeling, but Daniel's touch was really spiritual rather than physical anyway.
"The Princess Cecile here was a dream to repair, you know," he said. Part of him was vaguely aware that his companion didn't know anything of the sort. "Back on Cinnabar the taste's all for unit-built hulls because they're stronger."
Daniel's toe rapped for emphasis. "And who can argue against that? you say. But there's not a corvette in RCN service that could have taken the blow we did without structural damage, and not a unit-built hull in the universe that could have been repaired so easily. We'd be talking about six months in Harbor Three, not a week in Kostroma with the work mostly done by the vessel's own crew!"
"I take your point," said Adele. He turned to look at her face to see if she was laughing at him again. She didn't appear to be; at least on the surface.
Sunlight winked from metal. Distances in vacuum were impossible to gauge accurately by eye, but there was little doubt that this sheen was from a cutter approaching the Princess Cecile with a message that couldn't be radioed.
Daniel had little doubt as to what the message was, either.
He sighed, then looked again at the great ball of Kostroma. He'd been granted so much that it would be churlish to complain that it wasn't more. Besides, a Leary of Bantry didn't whine.
"Shall we go inside?" he said quietly to Adele. "I believe that will be my relief, Lieutenant Enery, and as a matter of courtesy I'd like to receive her in person. Otherwise she might think I resented her promotion to command."
Daniel had vanished toward the bridge while Adele with the help of two sailors was still getting out of her vacuum suit. Tovera was still in Kostroma City, retrieving equipment "that you'll want, mistress," from some store of Markos's. Adele wondered if her new servant was any better at dealing with weightlessness and vacuum suits than she herself was.
The rigging crew had come inside through a remarkable number of airlocks. Apart from the twenty or so sailors still on the ground dealing with supplies and other final arrangements, the Princess Cecile's entire crew was present.
"How many hatches are there?" Adele asked Lamsoe as he stowed her suit in careful alignment with a score of others in the locker.
"Six is all, mistress," he said. "Not really enough, either. It's not like we was a transport and could wait till next election before we got the rig adjusted."
He tugged her gently. A week in the command node hadn't significantly increased Adele's skill at moving in weightlessness. "Now if you'll come this way, we'll get you with Mr. Leary on the bridge."
"An officer from the flagship boarding!" said the general communicator. The latch of the main airlock clanked.
Lamsoe sprang the remaining twenty yards toward the bridge with Adele in tow. Other personnel, standing to attention while one hand anchored them, squeezed out of the way. Lamsoe's skill was such that they sailed down the corridor without touching a wall.
Daniel, wearing a white uniform with gold hussar knots across the bosom and a worm-track of gold braid down the trouser seam, was talking earnestly with Lt. Mon. He'd changed into this resplendent full dress uniform while Adele was still struggling out of her vacuum suit. His eyes noted Adele but he was too involved to greet her.
Lamsoe handed her off to Hogg, who wrapped her hand around a stanchion with gentle pressure and then vanished into the wardroom. They were treating her like a sack of grain, but at least she was valuable grain.
A pair of unfamiliar officers wearing dress uniforms similar to Daniel's came up the corridor skillfully though without Lamsoe's panache. One was a woman in her mid-twenties; the other merely a boy, probably no more than fifteen.
They halted by gripping the hatch coaming and swung upright. The woman saluted Daniel. "Lieutenant Bara Enery reporting aboard, sir!" she said.
Daniel returned the salute. "Welcome aboard the Princess Cecile, Lieutenant Enery," he said. "I think you'll be pleased with what you find here."
He sounded not only friendly but mildly pleased. Adele had heard sailors muttering about "the bitch slotted to replace Mr. Leary." Daniel himself, the one time he'd mentioned Enery, referred to her as a very professional officer with a good head for astrogation.