“So what do you think, Dan?” he asked. “Do you think it’s going to work out between us all?”

Black mulled it over.

“They’re not like us, sir, but they’re okay. I guess they’re what we become.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?” asked Spruance.

“Not entirely. I’ve learned a lot about them that scares me, frankly. But on the whole, they mean well.”

“They killed a lot of our men, Dan.”

“They saved a lot, too. And don’t forget we killed our fair share of them in return. Far as I can tell, they’re not holding that against us.”

A look of fleeting irritation passed across the admiral’s face. “They wouldn’t want to go comparing scars,” was all he said in reply.

Neither man said anything for a while. Black was stilling pondering Spruance’s question. Like Curtis, he’d been told to stay on the Clinton, to get acquainted with their procedures and technology. Like Curtis, he spent a lot of time reading. He wasn’t a great reader and it frustrated him, but the guided tours he’d taken hadn’t gone well. His guides assumed a level of knowledge about their ship and its technology that he just didn’t possess.

“And this woman you’ve met?” said Spruance, breaking into his thoughts.

“Julia Duffy.”

“She’s a reporter, am I correct?”

“For the New York Times. I believe she wants to keep working for them,” said Black, who had little doubt she’d get what she wanted.

“I’d like you to spend some more time with her while she’s here, Dan. Get her reading on Kolhammer’s people. She was writing about them. She must have her own opinions.”

“She certainly does,” he agreed. “As a matter of fact, she’s kind of ticked off at Kolhammer. I think she blames him for bringing her here. I think she’d much rather be home.”

“Wouldn’t we all. You got on well with her then?”

“I like her, sir. Quite a bit.”

Spruance started to say something, then he seemed to think the better of it. “That’s good. Spend as much time as you want with her over the next week or so. I’d like to get an independent opinion about what might happen if these characters are forced to stay. They certainly don’t seem very hopeful of getting back.”

Dan Black shifted uncomfortably on his hard wooden chair. He’d already grown used to the vacu-molded seating on the Clinton. If he understood Spruance right, he was being asked to snoop on a girl he might have some feelings for. It didn’t sit well, and he saw no alternative but to say so.

The admiral must have read his expression.