“I didn’t want to disturb you, Sir, or… or make you think I wasn’t willing to take responsibility, and everything started out sounding so routine that I thought I could handle it.” She swallowed. “I was wrong, Sir.”

Her expression showed the humiliation of a bright, eager young officer who’d wanted to do her job and win her CO’s approval only to see the attempt blow up in her face, but her voice was unflinching as she admitted her failure.

“As you know, Sir, we transmitted all the message traffic for Danak on our arrival in Danak Alpha orbit.” She paused, and Heathrow nodded encouragingly. “Well, that was all the traffic there was, Sir. There wasn’t any more at all, but they don’t believe me Dirtside.”

“They don’t?” Heathrow raised a perplexed eyebrow, and she shook her head.

“No, Sir. First, I got a standard request from StateSec Sector HQ for a recheck of the message storage files to be sure everything had transmitted. So I did that, and told them everything had gone, and they went away. Only then, about fifteen minutes later, some SS citizen major turned up and demanded another recheck. And when I told him I’d already done it, he insisted on remote access to the message files. But he didn’t find anything either, and when he didn’t, he accused me of having somehow screwed up the message storage. But I told him I couldn’t screw it up, that it was all automated. So then he accused me of having done it on purpose, if it couldn’t happen by accident, so I told him that I couldn’t deliberately tamper with the files because I didn’t have a list of their contents—that I didn’t even know how many messages had been loaded to the Danak queue, much less what those messages were about! Sir, I can’t even unlock the central directory without the authenticated security code from the ground station the traffic is intended for—you know that!”

“Of course I do, Irene,” he said soothingly, drawing her gently back from the brink of fresh hysteria.

“Well, I told him all that over and over—I don’t know, maybe as much as nine or ten times and in five or six different ways—and he finally went away. But then this Citizen Colonel Therret called. He’s Citizen General Chernock’s chief of staff, and he started out just like the Citizen Major. Sir, he insists there has to be a message we haven’t delivered, and… and he says he’s sending a full security detail up here to ‘talk’ to me about it!”

She stared at him with huge eyes, panic once more hovering just under the surface, and now Heathrow understood completely. He didn’t understand what was happening, or why—or even how, for that matter—but he understood Howard’s terror only too well. And, truth to tell, he felt a swelling panic of his own, for if StateSec decided something had happened to its secure traffic aboard Heathrow’s ship, there was no way their headhunting would stop with the lowly citizen ensign serving as his com officer.