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It doesn’t take too long for her to make a decision. Nodding, she says, “Alright. Thanks for the offer.”
You offer a smile, brief but wholly genuine. “Don’t worry about it. Always was curious about the later generations.” A brief glance around the room confirms that you’ve got everything you could need. Save for extra manpower. “So what’s first on the docket?”
She jerks a thumb towards the fraying mess of wires and cable, all that remains of her PUEXO’s left arm. “We gotta prep it for drydock back home. It’ll take the whole shift, but I think we can disconnect the arm and get started on fixing the torso. Just us, maybe one more PUEXTech if you can get them.”
You try not to wince. “They’re under orders to focus exclusively on the Magellan until we get back home.”
If looks could kill, Gully could probably sear paint off the deck. “…dammit.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” you offer, fishing a little pamphlet out of your breast pocket. Dog-eared and battered, but a souvenir from your time aboard the Duck. “I just checked, and we’ll be passing back into the range of broadcast radio in a few hours. Let’s see if we can’t get the Caprica’s radio back in working order by then.”
That gets her attention. She raises a cursory eyebrow, taking the offered pamphlet. “Anything good on the airways?”
“Depends on what you’re looking for. Midnight Channel for radio dramas, David After Dark for viewer interaction, Megiddan Rosary if you’re looking to pray, or the Dragon’s Teeth hijacking the airwaves to spew some luddite, anti-Babylonian ‘return to monkey’ propaganda...”
Gully laughs, short and sardonic. “We’re certainly spoiled for choices, then.” But her amusement doesn’t last long, as her features school into something more serious. “Dragon’s Teeth…they’re the ones responsible for this whole mess.”
You exhale heavily. “This is bold, even for them. I didn’t think that they’d have the guts or the power to clean out a sunken spaceship.”
“Not completely,” she counters, “They left the black box and transponder aboard the <span class="mu-i">Olympia</span>.”
The transponder, you understand. The signal that led both Babylonia and the Khanate to the shipwreck came from that. A trap meant to lure any opportunistic scavengers and kill them for…what? Daring to repurpose the treasures of the Old World for the betterment of mankind? Maybe not so much for the Khanate, but you have enough patriotism to feel offended at the thought.
Either way, Babylonian Intelligence is gonna be having a field day. It hadn’t been bad enough that the debriefing with Elishani and Geary had lasted for three hours to get everyone’s accounts in line. You foresee several visits and house calls from the spooks who want the testament straight from the source. No matter how thorough the captain’s secretary had been in taking down notes.
(cont.)
