Free The Kassa Gambit by M. C. Planck Page B

curiosity, although it tried to hide under polished indifference. “Daspar? How are—what are you doing out here?”
    “We’re not on a secure line, Leader, so with your permission I’ll spare you the details. I came out here on some League business, but that’s obviously been superseded by what’s happened.”
    Prudence blinked her eyes, jolted by yet another facet of the enigmatic Kyle Daspar. She would never have imagined such diplomacy from that jutting jaw. She could not reconcile those proud eyes with this bureaucratic subservience.
    “What are you doing right now, Command Leader? What is your current status?”
    “I’ve commandeered the Ulysses, and we are on a polar flight to rescue some research station personnel. However, there is a matter that I feel might exceed my competence, and I would appreciate your advice, Leader.”
    Prudence stared at him. He looked like he meant it. The act was perfect, his sincerity unquestionable. If she had not seen him at the alien wreck—if she had not seen his confusion, anger, and gentleness—she would have been convinced.
    But she had. And now she could not guess what this role-playing was costing him. How could his spirit survive, buried under that? Under the weight of the League.
    Carefully, she pulled herself back from the edge. She had seen many strange things in her short life. She had learned that appearances can be deceiving, on every level. Kyle Daspar might be exactly what he seemed: a true believer. A person whose soul was given over to a higher power, allowing him to be a man at one moment and a slave at the next, without even noticing the change.
    In this case the higher power would be more odious than most, but in her experience, it never really mattered what you sold your soul to. In the end the result was always the same.
    “What is this situation, Daspar? Are you sure it’s that important?” Rassinger’s voice wrestled with itself. In the space of a single vowel, she could tell the man was annoyed at Kyle’s urbane competence, but unable to find a reason to complain.
    “We have located an anomalous signal, Leader. It’s deep in the arctic circle, and the research staff assures us they have no teams or equipment in that sector. It’s possible that it could be an artifact of the enemy. If so, that would constitute a level-one military goal, which would supersede my current mission. Should I divert from the rescue mission to investigate this signal?”
    The answer was quick—too quick.
    “No, Daspar, do not divert. If it really is a level-one priority, then it supersedes our own mission. I’ll take the Phoenix and investigate. Can you give us a coordinate for that signal?”
    Kyle paused, looked at Prudence. So he was going to let her help. If she played her cards right, uber-leader Rats-ass would not remember her earlier slip, only her useful assistance afterward.
    She leaned over the microphone. “I’m afraid not, sir. Without GPS satellites, we’re operating off of dead reckoning. But I can transmit a solar vector. Your nav officer should be able to get close with that, and we can tell you what frequency to look for once you’re in the area.”
    The pause was brief, but long enough to confirm that Rassinger was no spacer. He was waiting for someone to verify her words.
    “That will be acceptable, Captain. How close to this signal did you get?”
    No pretense, no lure, just a straight-up trap. It was like a hangman tying a noose and casually asking how much you weighed.
    “We’re really pressed for time and resources, sir, and my crew is pulling its fourth straight shift. We just want to bail this research crew out and get some sleep.”
    Only after the weaseling misdirection had left her mouth did she realize how much like Kyle she sounded.
    Rassinger was satisfied. “Understood, Captain. We’ll take care of it.”
    And that was that. The biggest find of human existence, the greatest discovery since fire and the wheel, was out of her