"But I will not have any of my officers or crew involved."
Blades rallied and answered briskly, "You needn't. Just issue orders that my boys are to have access to the scoopships. They can install the equipment, jockey the boats over to the full balloons, and even couple them on."
Janichevski's fears had vanished once he made his decision, but now a certain doubt registered. "That's a pretty skilled job."
"These are pretty skilled men. It isn't much of a maneuver, not like making a Jovian sky dive."
"Well, O.K., I'll take your word for their ability. But suppose the Altair spots those boats moving around?"
"She's already several hundred kilometers off, and getting farther away, running a search curve which I'm betting my liberty—and my honor; I certainly don't want to hurt my own country's Navy—I'm betting that search curve is guaranteed not to find the missile in time. They'll spot the Pallas as you depart—oh, yes, our people will be aboard as per orders—but no finer detail will show in so casual an observation."
"Again, I'll take your word. What else can I do to help?"
"Nothing you weren't doing before. Leave the piratics to us. I'd better get back." Blades extended his hand. "I haven't got the words to thank you, Adam."
Janichevski accepted the shake. "No reason for thanks. You dragooned me." A grin crossed his face. "I must confess though, I'm not sorry you did."