Free A Call to Arms by Robert Sheckley Page A

the casual approach. “So, John... Mr. President... you want to tell me why we’re heading to B5 in such a hurry?”
    Sheridan looked up from his drawings, considered for a moment, and said, “No, not yet. Because I’m not even sure I believe it myself. But I have to find out if what I think is... is .”
    “I see,” Garibaldi said, thinking that this was double-talk if ever he’d heard any. And he’d heard some in his career. Had even put out some.
    For the first time, he began to wonder seriously if there weren’t something the matter with Sheridan.
    “You know, we could stop by Minbar on the way over, just for a day... see Delenn,” he said, trying to sound sympathetic. “You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, and---”
    “I’m fine, Michael,” Sheridan said flatly. “And we’re going to Babylon 5.” That was that.
    “Right,” Garibaldi said. “Absolutely. Whatever you say. I’ll just get a little work done while you’re... drawing.”
    “Good idea,” Sheridan said. “Oh, and while you’re at it, see what you can find out about a planet named Daltron 7.”
    “Never heard of it. Is it important?”
    “Could be,” Sheridan said, and returned to his drawings.
    Garibaldi looked up, saw a Human Ranger at the doorway. He walked over to him and said, “Get me Captain Lochley at B5. I’ll be in my quarters.”
    With a final glance at Sheridan, he left the bridge.
    Sheridan didn’t even look up. He had almost completed his sketches. He darkened the Drazi’s skin, wishing now he had been working in pigments. Still, the face was recognizable. They all were. Now the only question was, who were they, and where?
     

Chapter 16
     
    Aboard the Omega-class destroyer Charon , Captain Leonard Anderson was commanding. A big African-American man in his early forties, he was standing at the helm. His first officer, Framer, was hovering nearby, looking more than a little nervous.
    Finally Framer said, “Are you quite sure about this, Captain?”
    Anderson turned. “Quite sure, Commander. Why? Is there a problem?”
    “No, sir. It’s just... our last message from Earth-Dome ordered us to the Vega Colony for a routine security patrol. And now we’ve changed course to Babylon 5 without notifying HQ.”
    “Phil, you worry too much. Now go on with the status checks. I know what I’m doing.”
    The first officer nodded dubiously. “There’s also an officer from the engine room, sir. Flagler. Looks like he’s got a grievance. Shall I deal with it?”
    “No. I’ll take care of it myself. Send him to me in the wardroom in ten minutes.”
     
    Flagler entered and saluted smartly. He was a small, skinny man with a head of unruly red hair and thin, unpleasant features. They usually indicated trouble. Anderson had dealt with him before. And he had a good idea what it was about this time.
    “Another complaint, Flagler?”
    “Well... Yes, sir.”
    “What is it this time?”
    “Well, sir, I’m speaking here largely on behalf of the crew.”
    “That’s understood,” Anderson said, the irony in his voice barely noticeable.
    “We--they--were all promised leave on Vega That’s what we were told, sir, official-like.”
    “That may be true,” Anderson said “But the duties of the ship take precedence over leave. You know that. You were told that right at the start.”
    “I do know it, sir. But the stuff I was told said that good and sufficient reasons would always override planned rest periods.”
    “Yes, and so?”
    “So, begging your pardon for being so bold, sir, there seems no good and sufficient reason for this trip to Babylon 5. And what it means, sir, it means some of the boys will miss some important appointments.” These appointments, Anderson knew, consisted of an all-Vegan poker contest that started in two standard days.
    “It’ll help you save some money, Flagler. I remember you didn’t do so well the last time we got to Vega. Got skinned, if I remember correctly.”
    “Yes, sir,