Free INTERVENTION by DENNIS MILLER Page A

doorcom sounded “Entry is requested.”
       Andretta answered “Who?” 
       “Leading Engineering Officer Miles.”
       The Agent dismissed the globescreen, responding “Permission granted.” And then she turned her seat from the desk to face her visitor. 
       As Miles stepped through the doorway, she said “Please take a seat” indicating the chair opposite her own at the desk and watched as the Engineer strode purposefully toward her; she could see that he was highly agitated and so she decided to take control of the situation from the start. 
       As he sat down she asked “Is anyone aware of our earlier conversation?” 
       Miles was taken by surprise by the suddenness of the question: he looked at her and felt the creases beginning to appear on his forehead: the questions he was going to ask were still going round in his mind and here he was, stumbling for an answer.
       “What? No, nobody knows anything from me.” But then Hidson sprang into his mind, “Why do you ask?” 
       Her eyes seemed to bore into his for a long two seconds and he had the distinct impression that she could actually see the lie hiding there at the centre of his brain.  She smiled and sat back in her seat, “Good.” she said “It makes a pleasant change to
    have the opport unity of working with someone with integrity and cool demeanour. MAC.” 
       The response was immediate, “Agent Andretta request please.” 
       “Mainframe and remote interfaces in this section closedown.”
       “Complied.”
       To Miles she said “Now, please tell me how I can help.” 
       Miles felt as though most of the wind had been taken from his sails: he had come here to demand more information and to find out how the Commander could possibly be suspected of being in league with an alien race. But the best he cold manage was to say, quite calmly, “I understand why you are reluctant to tell me who it is that you are observing, but I’m finding it extremely difficult to come to terms with the idea that Commander Rachmel could be a suspect given the fact that she has no children, when you said that one of your suspects has a child; how can this be possible?” 
       Andretta appeared to be mulling over the question, and then eventually she came to a decision.
       “Very well” she said. “But what I am about to reveal to you is of an extremely delicate nature, and must be treated with the utmost secrecy. You cannot even relate to Commander Rachmel that you are aware of this information. Please understand that what I am about to divulge is purely to put your mind at ease and that I am trusting to your integrity. This knowledge is not, I repeat not, to be considered fair game for Galley chit chat: do you agree to the conditions?”
       Miles’s thoughts were on overdrive. What the hell am I getting into here? What can she possibly have on Rachmel that I don’t know about? And is it something that I would be comfortable with in knowing? These questions were beginning to burn into his mind, but he knew he had to go on. He nodded slowly; never taking his eyes from the woman. 
       “Yes,” he said softly, “I agree.” 
       Andretta’s unblinking gaze seemed to bore into him again. 
       “Very well.” She clasped her hands and rested her arms on the desk in front of her.  “Commander Rachmel: Echo Oscar 24297: born 20-08-2145: age at entry to service twenty four years.
    At eighteen years of age she gave birth to a child, a female child; this being the product of an illicit liaison with a man who promised her the world and then left.”
       Miles was dumbstruck; he had known Rachmel for years; how would he not have suspected something like this? It had to be a mistake: the agent was wrong. 
       Andretta went on, “This was a devastating blow, for, as you are aware, her family is one of a community of old fashioned values and religion, who consider an unmarried pregnancy as shameful to