“And from Cerberus you went to Clarke, and from Clarke you came directly here?”

“Yes, Sir. I can download a copy of our astro log, if you’d care to review it.”

“That won’t be necessary, Citizen Lieutenant Commander. I’m simply endeavoring to be certain I have your itinerary firmly fixed in my brain.” The citizen general smiled thinly. “You see, the problem I’m having down here is that there should have been a message—an eyes-only, personal one—directed to me from Citizen Brigadier Tresca.”

“From Citizen Brigadier Tresca?” Heathrow blinked again, then looked at Howard. She looked back helplessly and shook her head. But he hadn’t really needed that, for his own memory of their (very) brief stop at Hades was quite clear.

“Sir, there was no message from Citizen Brigadier Tresca,” he said. “We receipted only a single transmission from Camp Charon, and it was directed to Citizen Major General Thornegrave in Shilo.”

“Are you positive about that? There couldn’t have been some mistake in the routing?”

“I don’t see how, Sir. It wasn’t addressed specifically to Citizen Major General Thornegrave, just to ‘Commanding Officer, State Security Headquarters Shilo Sector,’ but the destination code was clear. That much I can pull up for your review if you wish.”

“Please do so,” Chernock said, and for the first time it actually sounded like a request.

“Make it so, Citizen Ensign,” Heathrow said quietly, and Howard complied instantly. The record was part of the information she’d already pulled together at Heathrow’s instruction, and they watched together as Chernock considered it on his own com screen.

“I see,” he said after what seemed a very long time to read such a short string of letters. “There appears to have been some confusion here, Citizen Lieutenant Commander. Do you have any idea what this message concerned?”

“None, Sir,” Heathrow said very firmly indeed. Even if he’d had any idea, admitting it would have been a very bad move. Regular Navy courier COs who waxed curious about secure StateSec communications tended to end up just plain waxed. “All I can tell you,” he went on, trying not to sound cautious, “is that one of the messages in the Hades queue specifically requested a response. It’s SOP for the courier to be informed whenever that’s the case, Sir, in order to ensure that we don’t hyper out before someone groundside reads all of his or her mail and realizes a response is necessary. We aren’t normally informed which message requires an answer or what that answer’s content or subject might be, of course, and never when the subject is classified. In this case, however, my assumption would be that, since the only message we received from Camp Charon was coded for delivery to Shilo, Citizen Major General Thornegrave must have requested the response.”

“I see,” Chernock repeated. He gazed unreadably out of the screen for several seconds, then nodded. “Very well, Citizen Commander. You’ve been most responsive. I believe that will be all… for the moment.”