Jack Campbell - Invincible

“Escape pod?” An instant later he remembered. “The damaged escape pod from Balestra . Two of them boarded it.”

“They did?” Smythe asked. “Is there a working record of that? That pod’s systems were pretty messed up as I recall.”

“There’s the record of a comm call I made to them,” Geary said, gesturing to Desjani, who turned back to point to her communications watch, who in turn frantically ran searches.

“Got it!” the watch-stander announced. “Coming up now.”

Another image popped into existence between the images of Gioninni and Smythe. Geary once again saw the interior of the damaged escape pod, Chief Madigan near the comm panel, the two spider-wolves sealed in their space armor at the air lock. “We can’t tell what they’re looking at,” Geary said.

“No,” Smythe agreed, “but we can see, and they could see, the sailors in that pod using duct tape. Patching the hull, repairing that panel, first aid on that injured sailor. Does it really work on sucking chest wounds?”

“Yes, sir,” Master Chief Gioninni said.

Desjani nodded. “Fixing electronics, fixing hull material, fixing human bodies. That’s pretty universal, I guess.”

“That’s why every escape pod has a couple of rolls of duct tape on it,” Master Chief Gioninni pointed out. “We’ve got to inventory the stuff on a monthly basis because otherwise people sneak into the pods and carry off the duct tape to sell it or use it on their ships.”

“Sell it?” Desjani asked, her expression as she looked at Gioninni turning dangerous.

“Not on this ship, Captain,” Gioninni said. “Some folks get that idea sometimes, but they always get shown the error of their ways by older and wiser heads. Selling the duct tape out of escape pods would be like selling… oh, the parachutes out of aerospace craft. If you need that stuff, you’re really going to need it, so we make sure no one messes with it.”

“Don’t we have duct tape as part of our standard supplies?” Desjani demanded, mollified but still a little suspicious.

“Sure, Captain, but you can never have too much duct tape.”

Geary heard laughter, then realized it was coming from him. “Humanity’s gift to the universe. Duct tape.”

“We wouldn’t have made it to the stars without duct tape, Admiral,” Gioninni said.

“We also wouldn’t have made it without chiefs.”

Gioninni grinned. “Yes, sir. Uh, if I may be so bold, Admiral, why did we need to know what these particular aliens call our duct tape?”

“They want it,” Desjani said.

The master chief stopped moving for just a moment, then nodded. “How badly do they want it, Captain? We might be able to work out a real nice deal.”

Geary tried not to smile back at the master chief. “Do you happen to know anyone who’s good at working out deals. Master Chief Gioninni?”

“I might have a little expertise in that particular area, Admiral,” Gioninni said with every appearance of modesty. “Not that I do much wheeling and dealing myself, you understand. But sometimes you have to work out swaps or trades, and if the other party really wants or needs whatever you have to trade, it can provide some very nice benefits.”

“You do indeed, Master Chief,” Desjani agreed. “However, this particular deal is already done. We give them our duct tape, and they let us use their hypernet to get home. I don’t think anyone wants to risk messing up that deal, and we can’t afford to cheat or swindle the only bunch of aliens who don’t appear to be set on wiping us out.”

“I would never cheat or swindle anyone, Captain!” Gioninni declared piously, somehow also projecting shock at the very idea. “I’m the soul of fairness and honesty.”

“So I’ve heard. From you. Thank you, Master Chief. We’ll let the emissaries know that you are available to assist in the deal-making.” After Gioninni’s image vanished, Desjani looked at Geary. “Where do you suppose those spider-wolves would put Master Chief Gioninni in their pattern?”

“Let’s not find out. General Charban? Emissary Rione? We’ve identified the mystery substance. Captain Smythe, get going on hitching those four battleships to the superbattleship. How long will it take?”

Smythe scratched his cheek as he thought. “Two days, Admiral.”

“Make it one.”

“The impossible takes a little longer, Admiral. I can push for a day and a half. I won’t promise anything less than that.”

“All right.” Geary had never forgotten the old lament he had heard from the first enlisted sailors he had commanded. Why is there never enough time to do it right but always enough time to do it over? The simple logic of that had stuck with him, especially when experience proved the truth of it.

After that call ended, Geary sat looking steadily at his display for a second. “All units, be advised we intend getting under way for the next jump point in one and a half days. Ensure that you are fully ready to move at that time.”

Smythe must have gotten right to work on the towing arrangement for the captured warship because the commanding officer of Reprisal called within minutes. “Admiral, with all due respect, I have to protest the use of my ship as a tug!”

“I understand your concerns, Captain,” Geary said with all of the diplomacy he possessed. According to Rione, that wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough. “I made this decision based upon the performance of Reprisal in the recent engagement. It is critically important that we get this alien ship safely home, and I know Reprisal can be trusted to make certain that happens no matter what threats we encounter. You will be the last and strongest line of defense for that superbattleship.”

Reprisal ’s commanding officer hesitated. “It’s… a position of honor?”

“Very much so.” He truly wasn’t lying. If push came to shove, it would be very comforting to know that ships as steady as those four battleships were his last bastions defending the bear-cow superbattleship.

Within the next several minutes, he repeated the same reassurances to the commanding officers of Relentless , Superb , and Splendid , then called Dreadnaught , Orion , Dependable , and Conqueror to let them know they would have the honor of operating as close-in escorts for their sister ships and the captured warship.

“Jane,” he said to his grandniece. “You’ll be commander of the close-in escorts for the superbattleship. You have to protect it.”

Captain Jane Geary nodded in reply. “I understand, Admiral.”

“You did a good job here. No one will ever doubt your courage, your initiative, or your ability.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

And there it rested (again), Jane Geary hiding behind professional courtesy to avoid discussing anything personal.

It took almost half a day more before the emissaries reported back in. “We have a deal,” Rione said. “I will caution you again about your decision to allow spider-wolf ships to accompany us back.”

“Ships? I thought it was one ship.”

“That was due to a misinterpretation on the part of General Charban and myself,” Rione explained. She didn’t seem too upset by the misinterpretation, but perhaps she was simply too worn-out by the negotiations to care at this point. “They actually want to send six ships.”

“Six ships.” Geary rubbed his chin as he thought about that. An alien flotilla brought into human space? But, on the other hand, he didn’t know what kinds of risks they might face on the way back. If a single spider-wolf ship came with them, and something happened to it, how could they ever explain that to the spider-wolves back here?