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do with Colonel Thrush?"
Kane's brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"
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Grant opened his mouth, closed it and shook his head in frustration. "I don't
know. A guess, mebbe."
"That's a pretty damn good guess," Kane said grimly. "Or maybe there's an
Intel leak."
Grant shook his head again. "No, nobody said anything to me. I've been in my
quarters since we arrived.
The name just popped into my head..."
His voice trailed off, an expression of confusion crossing bis face.
Outer Darkness
195
"Keep it in your head, Mr. Grant," replied Kane. "The mission is classified."
"Aye, sir."
Kane went on to sick bay to check on Beth-Li's condition. He was more than a
trifle surprised by
Grant's seemingly impulsive mention of Thrush. It was a name from the old
days, and Grant had never struck nun as a student of history.
Beth-Li looked pale and wan under the white sheets of the hospital bed, but
she was conscious.
"You haven't changed clothes or shaved," she said reprovingly by way of a
greeting.
"Hello to you, too," he replied with a smile. "I've been busy." He reached out
to take her hand, but she was unresponsive. "How are you doing?"
"I'll be released in a couple of days," she said quietly.
"Good. Then what?"
"You remember that position I was offered in the administrator general's
office? I'm going to accept it."
She spoke matter-of-factly. "There's no future in the Ranger Corps, J.T."
Kane knew she spoke the truth. The once powerful and fearsome Ranger Corps,
which had enforced justice all over the system, was now just an unwieldy,
anachronistic police force.
"Why do you cling to it?" she asked.
Kane didn't want to have the discussion. They had exhausted the topic midway
during the last patrol to the point where they didn't even speak except when
they were on the command deck. "Tradition. My greatgrandfather, my
grandfather, my father were all Rangers. Tradition used to mean something."
She sighed in exasperation. "It's a nontraditional
196
JAMES AXLER
universe, J.T. Even Len Salvo saw the handwriting on the bulkhead. Why can't
you?"
Kane released her hand and stepped away. "I just wanted to see how you were
doing, Beth-Li. I'm off again tomorrow."
She crooked an eyebrow. "So soon? To where?"
Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, he answered, "A little backtrack recon on that
probe. Nothing to it. I'll see you when I get back." He resisted the urge to
say "if."
Beth-Li smiled wanly. "If I'm here. If I'm not, you know where to find me."
Back out on the promenade, Kane wondered why he didn't feel sadness over their
parting. Instead, he experienced a wave of relief at disentangling himself
from such a conniving, egocentric, faithless bitch
He caught himself thinking that and nearly cursed aloud. He had no idea from
where that opinion had sprung. Beth-Li Rouch was none of those things. Well,
he thought, a second later. Maybe she was a little egocentric.
He massaged his temples as he walked, trying to drive Beth-Li from his mind.
She was out and Bap-tiste was in, at least temporarily. He went to the section
of the station that held the Ranger commanders'
staterooms. They were always in perpetual reserve, unlike the crew, whose
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quarters were often shifted around depending on vacancies. There were more and
more empty rooms each time the
Sabre returned from patrol.
For that matter, nearly half of the command-rank staterooms held no occupants,
despite the fact their nameplates and their ships were still affixed to the
doors. Kane glanced at them as he strode by Pollard
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197
of the
Bowie, Sky Dog of the
Feathered Lance, Barch of the
Claymore.
Kane had inherited both his living quarters and the
Sabre from his father, who had inherited them from his grandfather, back when
the ship was top-of-the-line, a vessel waiting to be imbued with history.
The door to his stateroom interacted with his badge and unlocked
automatically, sliding open. As he stepped in, he noted with irritation the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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