great-grandfather rammed through the Society of Humanityâs senate passed unanimously. Since that time, weâve been more careful about sticking our noses into the unknown. I understand the Iteeche have gone about their exploration with a similar caution,â she added dryly.
Again, heads nodded. No one seemed to doubt she was humanityâs greatest living expert on the Iteeche.
She was. Still, it surprised her that no one demanded to examine her credentials.
âAs some of you have heard, the Iteeche Exploration Bureau has suffered some losses lately. Three jump points to certain stars have been eating up any ships that drop in and not spitting up so much as an atom. Anything the Iteeche send there do not come back. We have been asked if our high technology might allow us to slip something in without drawing fire. Could one of our probes make it back?â
Her audience leaned forward. What she said next could easily have a life-or-death impact on them.
âIâve refused to dangle our highest technology in the dark where it can be snapped up by unknown forces with us none the wiser as to what we face. So far, that has been adopted as Wardhaven, ah, excuse me, U.S. policy. If weâre going there, weâre taking the human eyeball along with us. Which brings us to the next options.
âI spent much of my dinner last night listening to King Raymond, Grampa to me, telling me in great detail why we should not duplicate the same search that the Iteeche have already done and lost a small squadron of ships while doing it. If Grampa had let me get a word in edgewise sooner, we could have saved a lot of time for some other topic to argue over.â
Kris went on quickly without waiting for a reaction.
âI do not propose this Fleet of Discovery go anywhere near those stars. They are hot datum for somebody, drawing attention to this edge of the galaxy, and I would just as soon not attract their interest any closer to my dad, brother, nieces, and nephews.
âAre we clear on that?â Kris said firmly.
âIâm glad to hear it,â Admiral Krätz said for all.
âYou might not be so glad to hear what comes next,â Kris said, putting her hands on her hips. âIâve already heard mention of the fear, even if it is said as a joke, that I or we will come back with something mean and ugly snapping at our heels.â Krisâs eyes roved the room. From the looks of things, most of them had heard, or made, the same crack.
âNone of our ships return unless and until we are sure that there is nothing behind us but empty space.â
âHow very Japanese of you,â Admiral KÅta said into the silence.
âSo far, all youâve told us is what we wonât do,â Admiral Channing said. âWhen do we find out what we will do?â
âRight now,â Kris said, turning back to the star map. âAll of the Iteeche and just about all of humanity are hanging out here on this arm of the Milky Way. Humanity does have one exception. Santa Maria.â
Kris swung her laser pointer to a tiny light Nelly had blinking a third of the way around the galaxy. âFounded by the hopelessly lost and desperate crew of one of Earthâs first exploration ships nearly four hundred years ago, it hangs alone out here. Thereâs been some exploration around it, but the Santa Marians are still busy colonizing their own system. Few people looking for fertile ground want to start out with the long jump it takes to get to Santa Maria.â
Kris turned back to her listeners. âHowever, for a voyage of discovery, it looks like a great place to begin. Gentlemen, I hope your shipâs power plants and stabilization systems are in good shape. I intend to lead this fleet on some fast jumps with very high and very precise spins on our ships. If you donât think you can do it, drop out now. Iâd hate to lose your ship in a bad jump.â
If possible, the
Under the Cover of the Moon (Cobblestone)