Demming settled back in his chair, closed his eyes and grunted, “Tell him.”
Max Rostoff took up the ball. “A few days ago, Mr. Demming and I flew in from Io on one of the Interplanetary Lines freighters. As you probably know, they are completely automated. We were alone in the craft.”
“So?” Without invitation, Don Mathers leaned forward and dialed himself another tequila. He made it a double this time. A feeling of excitement was growing within him, and the drinks he’d had earlier had worn away. Something very big, very, very big, was developing. He hadn’t the vaguest idea what.
“Lieutenant, how would you like to capture a Kraden light cruiser? If I’m not incorrect, probably Miro class.”
Don laughed nervously, not knowing what the other was at but still feeling the growing excitement.
