fight the urge to target it and order it destroyed.
He glanced over at Desjani, whose glare told him that she was having an even harder time accepting the freighter’s near presence.
“We need the food,” Geary said. “We’ve eaten Syndic rations before, and Midway has some substantial stockpiles since they were a central supply node for this region of Syndic space.”
“I know!” Desjani replied. “But the Syndic rations we picked up before had been abandoned in place when the installations holding them were vacated. We didn’t have to worry too much about
those
rations being poisoned or otherwise sabotaged.”
“The fleet physicians and Captain Smythe’s engineers are going to check these rations with every test known to humanity to ensure they’re safe, without poison, bacteria, viruses, nanoplagues, or other dirty tricks.”
“Fine,” she said. “Though given how bad Syndic rations taste, I wonder how hard it would be to tell if they had spoiled.”
“At least Syndic rations make Alliance fleet food seem decent by comparison,” Geary pointed out as he watched Alliance shuttles mating with the main hatches on the Syndic freighter to take on cargo. He didn’t mention another advantage that easily aroused suspicions as well. The authorities on Midway were providing these rations for free rather than haggling over the highest possible price. He knew they were doing that because they desperately needed the good favor of the Alliance against the threat posed by the Syndicate Worlds, but it was still a very uncharacteristic action, a very peculiar action, compared to the usual behaviors inside Syndic space.
His display told him that fleet medical personnel and equipment, as well as engineers with their own scanning gear, were on every shuttle for what would be just the first safety check of the rations.
A soft tone drew Geary’s attention to his comm display.
Why is Emissary of the Alliance government Victoria Rione calling me now?
He tapped the accept command and saw her image appear slightly to one side of the display.
Rione, calling from her stateroom on
Dauntless
, blinked weariness from her eyes and gestured in the direction of the Midway freighter. “There’s something unexpected on that freighter.”
“Now what?” He didn’t bother trying to disguise his anger. If Midway was going to play games with him after all this fleet had done to defend the people here—
“Not a bad thing, I think. Two representatives from General Drakon. They used the private comm channel I’ve been talking with President Iceni on.” Rione smiled crookedly. “I have already inquired whether they intended asking for your support for General Drakon against President Iceni. They insist that is not why they are here.”
“Good. They wouldn’t have gotten that support.” He drummed his fingers on the side of his seat, giving Rione’s image a skeptical look. She had every right to look tired, as she been negotiating for over a week with the authorities here, wrangling with CEO Boyens, and trying to develop better communications with the Dancers. “What do they want?” Geary asked. “What’s so secret that they had to sneak up here in person?”
“Something they will only discuss with you. In person. You may safely assume it is a matter too sensitive to risk any chance at all of a message being intercepted.”
“The hell.” Geary glowered at the depiction of the freighter on his display. He had learned all too well how even the most secure communications channels could be penetrated, so he understood that aspect of the matter. But . . . “Me alone? No. There will be at least one other person in any meeting with me and those two.”
“Not me,” Rione said. “I can’t give any implied endorsement by the Alliance government to whatever Drakon is proposing until I have some idea what it is about. Take your captain. She’s equal in rank to the two representatives from Drakon, and she’s