"And a magnetic cannon?"

He snorts derisively. "I've got to admit, that's the only new gismo we've actually seen. What use the thing is, is beyond me."

"Ambrose, I'm getting a feeling about it. Nobody sees any use for it. Command isn't so thick they'd stick something on just because the Admiral's nephew thought it up." That theory has gone the rounds. Strange tales crop up to explain anything Command doesn't see fit to illuminate.

"Maybe it's some special, one-shot thing. Special mission."

"Think so? The Old Man say something?"

"No. And he wouldn't if he knew anything, which he doesn't Orders haven't come through yet."

"Anybody tell you how Tarkenton took out one of their Main Battles during the siege at Carmody?

That was in the Eight Ball. Her third mission."

Climber Fleet Tannian has developed a plethora of legends about famous patrols and Commanders.

Tarkenton's story is one of the big ones. His kill came during the war's darkest hour. It threw the enemy fleet into total confusion. The ship he skragged was control for the entire Carmody operation.

Those were the glory days, the easy days. Tarkenton is still alive. He commands Climber Fleet Two, far in toward the Inner Worlds. I saw him once, shortly after his appointment. He's a lean, hollow- eyed man who travels with a guard of ghosts.

There're a thousand stories, and I'm sure I'll hear them all. Diekereide dearly loves to talk.

One he tells is about the Executioner. The Executioner is the other team's best. He commands a pack of hunter-killer specialists. They operate more like bounty hunters than an escort squadron.

"We don't have to worry about him. They sent him to take on Tarkenton's Fleet six months ago."

You have to admire a man who makes a name for himself in destroyers. Destroyer people do the most thankless, unnoticed work there is.

I return to Ops after action stations secures. I want to see what the Old Man does with his fueling luck. Diekereide made a good guess. He wants to shake down his new hands and get the feel of the refitted ship.

"Not bad when you can walk around, is it?" Yanevich asks as I amble in.

"No. But the mode can be confusing. We'll go parasite again just when I get the hang of it."

He winks. "So it goes. So it goes. Have a seat." He offers the viewscreen chair.

I don't refuse. My leg is aching and I want a better look at Subic Bay. I didn't see much of her from below. I switch to augmented infrared and skip from camera to camera.

The image, when I find it, has a spectral look, which isn't unusual with infrared.

"That a new-type tanker? Or is the augmentation screwed up?"

The only tanker I ever saw consisted of a long rectangular girderwork with a perpendicular squashed-egg CT tank on either end. A flying dumbbell. Drives were at the ends of crossbars athwartships amidship, turning the dumbbell into a giant jack. Crew's quarters were inside the arms.

Subic Bay's main structure is similar, but she's twice that other vessel's length. She has lesser dumbbells crosswise at either end, giving her four tanks instead of two. The thwartships crossbars are longer. They mount heavier drives and probably provide roomier quarters.

Two Climbers are nursing. A third is maneuvering into position. I suppose the naked tank is the one we used.

"First one of these I've seen myself," Yanevich says. "The new Kiel class. They're trying to speed things up. Put more Climbers into action and get more missions per ship. Which means they have to get more CT to Fuel Point faster."

"How about safety? Seems like doubling the handling capacity would cube the chance of disaster."

"Never lost a tanker yet." He grins at my sour expression. "Those people are careful. They know they're sitting on a live volcano. You think our OC was bad? You should see those people. They stay out a year at a time. When they cut loose, they cut loose." He glanced at the screen wistfully. "But they do have mixed crew."

The absence of comrades of a more delicate persuasion is having its effect. Conversations have grown less impersonal and professional. Throdahl is entertaining the watch with an intimate account of his relationship with the black radiowoman. His friend Rose is playing straight man.

It's obvious they're old story-swappers.

Throughout, Fisherman stares at his displays and pretends deafness. His particular faith has a strong fundamentalist bent.

From the shadowed jungle gym of the inner circle, Laramie calls, "Wouldn't it be a candy game if

we ran into a she-ship out? Link locks, and holiday routine for the crews." He giggles. When he laughs, Laramie sounds like a nine-year-old girl being tickled.

"Yeah," someone muses. "Wouldn't it be straight dusty, making it in null grav?"

Rose has a story about it. His is as unlikely as all such tales. Nobody believes a word, of course. Convincing the listener isn't their object. The someone again mentions how he'd like to try it hi free-fall.

Someone else says, "You want to try it, go down and see Hardwick."

The old hands snigger.

Nicastro pauses between me and Fisherman. "So soon you forget, Spook. Your playmate isn't with us this go." I'm surprised. The Chief doesn't usually join the game. He pats Fisherman's shoulder.

"Good board, Junghaus."

Good board? Either he has something in detection or he doesn't. Good and bad have nothing to do with tachyon gear, only the operator's skill at interpreting what he sees. When he has no contacts, he can do nothing but watch green lights and a blank screen. Only when yellow shows does he have to pay attention.

Then it dawns. Fisherman is short on confidence. He needs reassurance. His faith is one attempt to bolster it.

"How did Laramie get the name Spook?"

The Chief says, "Earned it in boot camp, I hear. Because he has a talent for becoming invisible when there's work to do. Buckets got his name because he has the chamberpot detail when we Climb.

A reward the Old Man gives people who get on his nerves. The men below can explain their names better than I can."

Nicknames intrigue me. How is it some people attract them, some repel them? There were people hi our battalion who always had one. Subject to momentary change. Some I never did know by a given name. On the other hand, I've never had one myself. I worried about it when I was younger. Didn't they like me?

I suppose I lack color.

Yet Rose and Throdahl are colorful enough. Throdahl's "Thro" is the only thing I've heard used on either of them. It's curious.

Rose is telling a new tale. This one from his recent leave. "We're cruising this road south of T- ville, see, and here's this bitch, maybe sixteen, just shaking along. Kicking up dust. Javitts spots her and says, 'I'm going to pick this up.' She ain't even hiking. Like maybe she's headed for the next cabbage patch. Javitts wheels over, asks her does she want a ride. She fish-eyes us maybe half a minute, says okay. You never seen a mover like Javitts. Ten minutes, man, I shit you not, he talks her into stopping by the barracks while we shift to Class A's. Soon as he gets there, he calls this other bitch to say we're going to maybe be a little late. All the tune we're driving, he's talking shit. Now it's my turn while he's on the horn. I'm thinking, what do you do to follow his act? I don't have to worry. She starts talking first. Man, you wouldn't believe it."

"Not from you," Throdahl says. "You got shit coming out your ears. But you're going to tell it anyway, so get it over with. We can't stand the suspense."

"One of these days, Thro. Pow! You know that? Wham! I got my right hand registered. Know what's wrong with you? You got no couth, Thro. Damn right I'm going to tell it. Get some class."

"What about the slut?"

"You got less couth than Thro, Barbarian. What she does is, she turns to me and says, 'You know, I started fucking when I was eleven.' I shit you not. Just like that. Straight off the bulkhead, and wearing the shit-eatingest smile you ever seen. Dusted me. Only thing I could think to say was, 'You should be pretty good, then.' And she said she is, and started telling me about all the guys

she screwed and how they all told her she was the best they ever had."