agreed.
With the others, she craned her head to see the last responder, a dark man whose specialty was heavyworlder genetics. From the heft of his shoulders, he might have heavyworlder genes of his own, she thought.
So it proved when the whole team met for briefing. Jarl was the smaller (and nonadapted) of twins born to a heavyworlder couple; he was fascinated by the unusual inheritance patterns of adaptation, and by the equally unusual inheritance patterns of tolerance or intolerance to coldsleep. Aside from his heavyworlder genes, he seemed quite normal, and Lunzie felt no uneasiness around him.
Bias, the volatile molecular biologist, was far more upsetting; he seemed ready to fly into pieces at any moment. Lunzie wondered how he would take the heavy gravity; he didn't look particularly athletic. Tailler, the cardiac physiologist, impressed Lunzie as a good team leader: stable, steady, but energetic, he would be easy to work with. She already knew, from a short bio at the foot of one of his papers, that he climbed mountains for recreation: the physical effort should be within his ability. Conigan, the rehab specialist, was a slender redheaded woman who reminded Lunzie of an older (but no less enthusiastic) Varian.
She was aware that she herself was the subject of just such curiosity and scrutiny. They would know little about her besides her file info: she had no friends or past associates they could question covertly. She wondered what they saw in her face, what they expected or worried about or hoped for. At least she had passed her Boards, and by a respectable margin, so Jerik had told her. She wondered, but did not ask, how he had gotten the actual raw scores, which supposedly no one ever saw.
And all the while, Bias outlined the project in excited phrases, pausing with his pointer aloft to see if they'd understood the last point. Lunzie made herself pay attention. Whatever information she could get for Sassinak and the trial aside, her team members deserved her best work.
By the time their ship came to the orbital station serving Diplo, they were all working easily together. Lunzie thought past the next few months, and Tanegli's trial, to hope that she would find such professional camaraderie again. There were things you could not say to a cruiser captain, however dear to your heart she was, jokes she would never get, ideas beyond her scope. And here Lunzie had that kind of ease.
Chapter Three
"I did not need this." Sassinak waved the hardcopy of the Security-striped message at Dupaynil and Ford. "I've got things to do. We all have. And the last thing we need to do is waste time playing nursemaid to a senile conspirator." Things had gone too smoothly, she thought, when she'd sent Lunzie off. She should have expected some hitch to her plans.
Dupaynil had the suave expression she most disliked. "I beg your pardon, Commander?"
He could not be that suave unless he knew what was in the message: Ford, who clearly did not, looked worried.
"Orders," Sassinak said crisply. "New orders, sent with all applicable coding on the IFTL link. We are to transport the accused conspirator Tanegli and the alleged native-born Iretan Aygar to..." She paused, and watched them. Dupaynil merely waited, lips pursed; Ford spoke up.
"Sector HQ? Fleet HQ on Regg?"
"No. Federation Headquarters. For a full trial before and in the presence of the Federation High Council. We are responsible," and she glanced down at the message to check the precise wording, "responsible for the transportation and safe arrival of said prisoner, who shall be released to the custody of Council security forces only. The trial date has already been set, for a local date that translates to about eight standard months from now. Winter Assizes, as we were told before. Prisoner's counsel is given as Klepsin, Vigal, and Tollwin. And you know what that means."
"Pinky Vigal, Defender of the Innocent," said Dupaynil, almost chuckling. "That ought to make an exciting
Learning to Kill: Stories