***

  When Shen’s message came to the bridge, Calvin happened to be there. His eyes were burning, and the long wait had relaxed him to a very bored, almost deliriously tired state. But he managed to shake himself awake.

  “Did your mission succeed?” he asked.

  “Affirmative, I’m back on board. Where do you want me to send this data? There’s an awful lot of it.”

  “Send it to the lab,” said Calvin. “And get some rest. There’s more than enough there to keep several people busy analyzing it for hours, if not days, and I want you to keep focused on your other assignments. Especially your investigation into the ships Raidan destroyed, including this latest casualty.”

  “The Rotham ships? Will do. And I’m not very tired, so I’ll get back to it right away.”

  “Fine with me,” said Calvin. “Just make sure you’re nice and alert for White Shift in”—he glanced at the clock—”eleven hours.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Shen and the communication ended.

  “So what was that about?” asked Rose.

  Calvin smirked. “It looks like we got our hands on the data the Harbinger stole after all. That should give us some clues about what it’s up to, if all goes well.”

  “I just hope we don’t take any fallout for this.”

  “Shen’s very good. I’m guessing Brimm One will never even know.” Calvin stood up. “When we’re given clearance, detach us from this base and get us heading toward Iota at a good speed. Once on our way, contact them and ask the status of their defenses. The Harbinger should be arriving before long, and you’d better send them a warning in case Brimm didn’t.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “If you need me, I’ll be in my quarters trying to sleep.”

  Calvin left. He thought of the first time he’d turned his bridge over to the command of less-experienced officers and how hard that had been. And he hadn’t slept well as he imagined them at the controls making choices that could mean life or death for him as he lay powerless below. But over time he’d gotten past that paranoia and knew that a fresh crew, no matter how green, was better than a seasoned one that’d been pushed to exhaustion.

  So, as long as his senior staff was on the bridge when they finally encountered the Harbinger, he’d be fine.

  As he approached his quarters, he felt the tempting, almost urgent, allure of equarius build up inside him, increasing with a vengeance. Almost exponentially. He told himself he wasn’t going to take any, that he was just flirting with the idea because the anticipation of equarius made him excited. That he didn’t have to actually take it to enjoy it. But, the more he thought about it, and the more he felt the craving flow through his veins like an electric current, he realized he was going to do it, no matter what he told himself.

  After all, he had eleven hours.

 
Richard Sanders's Novels