by S. H. Jucha
“And Captain Cinders can’t watch them because you’ll need him with you,” Aurelia surmised.
“Now, you’re catching on,” Harbour said. “It would look bad for me, as envoy, to report to Pyre that we’d lost one of the team and needed a replacement.”
“Or worse, that we needed two or three,” Aurelia added, smirking, before her demeanor sobered. “Will you be able to get the Pyrean leaders to agree?”
“I don’t intend to ask them, Aurelia. I’ll be telling them,” Harbour replied. “Now, I have an assignment for you. I want you to think about what you heard in the commandant’s meeting and what that means concerning Pyrean attitudes about a liaison with the Jatouche.”
Aurelia frowned at Harbour.
“You don’t think the primary reason that you’re being invited to go with me is to babysit some vac suit newbies, do you?” Harbour asked, releasing a strong wave of emotional support.
Dingles passed Aurelia after she left Harbour’s quarters. The young woman’s contented smile was abundantly evident.
“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Dingles asked, after rapping on the doorframe.
Harbour invited him into the salon, and Dingles noted that the chair he chose was still warm from Aurelia. By Aurelia’s expression, it appeared that she’d received good news. He was fairly certain that he knew his wouldn’t be.
Dingles watched Harbour pour a glass of green, and he judged that her day had been filled with a good many emotional exchanges. It made his decision easy for him, which was to make things easy for her.
“Captain, I want you to know that I’ll give my best to whomever you select to be the Belle’s captain,” Dingles said.
Harbour watched her first mate and trusted friend wring his ever-present cap in his hands. She was reminded of the first time she met Dingles in security administration. He’d told her that his space dementia was closing the walls of his detention cell in on him, and he didn’t expect to survive the ever-pressing, gnawing fear.
The empaths had cured Dingles’ space dementia, and the spacer had returned the favor a hundred times over through his diligent attention to the Belle’s needs.
“I appreciate you saying that, Dingles, and I’ve made my choice,” Harbour said. “I’ve selected an extremely competent individual, who I believe the people of this ship can support.”
Dingles nodded his head in agreement with Harbour’s remarks. He was still nodding, when he heard her say, “I’ve chosen Mitch Bassiter.”
“That’s fine —” Dingles said stoically, and then froze.
When Harbour saw tears form in the old spacer eyes, she deluged Dingles with the strength of her affection for him. Dingles closed his eyes and leaned his head back, as if the warm wind of emotion that blew through his mind had physical strength.
Harbour eased her gates closed, and Dingles opened his eyes.
“You sure, Captain?” Dingles asked.
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Harbour replied, with a generous smile.
Dingles stood up. He stared at the cap he’d twisted in his hands. Straightening it, he sat it atop his head, squared it, and saluted Harbour with a couple of fingers to the brim.
“Captain Dingles,” the old spacer said softly. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“Yes, it does,” Harbour replied.
* * * *
Hours later, Jessie took his captains and his first mate, Ituau Tulafono, to a dinner with Harbour in the captain’s quarters of the colony ship. While most were enjoying a drink before dinner, Jessie met with Ituau in Harbour’s office.
“I’m not sure how long Captain Harbour and I will be gone,” Jessie said.
“Not to worry, Captain, I’ll take good care of your ship until you return,” Ituau replied.
“That’s just it, Captain Tulafono. The Spryte’s no longer my ship. It’s yours.”
In Ituau’s momentary speechlessness, Jessie smiled and said, “That’s a new state of affairs for you, Captain, isn’t it? To be at a loss for words, I mean.”
“I’m elated and worried, at the same time, Captain,” Ituau replied, deciding to be forthright with Jessie.
“With your promotion, Ituau, which you’ve earned, goes a captain’s share of the profits,” Jessie added. “Hiring and promotions are your duties, effective immediately. However, we must discuss one aspect of your new role.”
“Would that be my behavior in downtime?” Ituau asked.
“Yes. I know you’ve curtailed the more … strenuous elements during your downtime over the past few years, and I appreciate that,” Jessie said.
“Say no more, Captain,” Ituau replied quickly, waving a hand to end the discussion. “I’ll keep a respectful distance from any of our crews, including that of the Belle, and I’ll be discreet aboard the stations.”
“As a captain should be,” Jessie noted.
“Anything else?” Ituau asked.
“What remains to be discussed will be shared with the other captains,” Jessie replied.
“Well, I know you frown on this, and I can’t promise this will be the last one,” Ituau said, as she stepped quickly forward and grasped Jessie in an embrace.
A whoosh of air escaped Jessie, as Ituau’s heavy arms encircled him. She was right. He wasn’t a man who hugged or liked to be hugged. But, in this instance, he patted Ituau’s wide back several times before she released him.
“Let’s join the others before I regret my decision,” Jessie said, scowling, and Ituau laughed at the pretense.
When Jessie entered the salon, Harbour gazed at him, and he nodded in return. The two of them had planned the means by which their responsibilities would be handed off and how they would keep the coin flowing in their absence.
Harbour handed a pair of crystal glasses to Jessie and Ituau. They were filled with some select choices from the captain’s stock.
“A toast,” Jessie announced, raising his glass. “To Captain Ituau Tulafono.”
There was the slightest hesitation, and then the present company cheered loudly. Harbour bathed in the heartfelt emotions that the senior captains shared with Ituau and her with them.
Harbour signaled the empaths, who were ready to serve dinner. As they swept into the salon, with food dishes and drink carafes, they could sense the powerful emanations from everyone but Harbour. For the empaths, it was another major step in a direction they coveted. Where once they’d been considered the outcasts of society, they’d been fully adopted by one of the most independent-minded sectors of the Pyrean populace — the spacers.
Harbour and Jessie let the captains consume a major portion of their meals before they began updating them.
“Captain Harbour —” Jessie began.
But Harbour interrupted Jessie. “Everyone is a captain at this table. I suggest we dispense with formality.”
“Agreed,” Jessie replied. “Harbour and I see no reason to change what’s been working. After the Pearl’s tanks are emptied, Leonard, you’ll sail your ship for Emperion with Yohlin and the Annie. The Belle will need more time to be emptied, and we can use this period to send the shuttle to the JOS to pick up any additional family members, new crew, and supplies. Ituau, I presume the crews’ usual attitude exists in that they don’t wish downtime on the JOS.”
Ituau tipped her head in agreement.
“Do you anticipate any negotiations with Evan Pendleton?” Leonard Hastings, captain of the Pearl, asked.
“Difficult to say,” Jessie replied. “If so, be prepared to take a hard line with the YIPS manager. There might be an attempt in my absence to see if the YIPS can negotiate a better deal for our slush.”
“Understood,” Leonard replied.
“Now, let’s talk about my arrangements,” Harbour said. “Yohlin, I’ll be relieving you of one of your spacers.”
“Rules,” Yohlin Erring, captain of the Annie, replied, referring to Aurelia by the name the empaths gave the spacer, when she was in hiding.
�
��Yes,” Harbour said simply. “As far as anyone is concerned, it’s to babysit the vac suit newbies. Any rumors to the contrary are to be ignored.”
“And what is the truth?” Yohlin asked. Harbour stared evenly at her, and Yohlin acquiesced. “Understood, Envoy Harbour.”
Yohlin’s address of Harbour was a statement to the others that more than one individual’s status had changed.
“Ituau,” Harbour said, “we’ll be collecting the delegates from the JOS, after they’re selected, and then making for Triton. Afterwards, you’ll proceed to Emperion. The slush cycle will continue until we return.”
“What about the vac suit newbies?” Ituau asked.
“Excellent point,” Harbour replied. “I’ve no idea what we’ll get in that regard. We might have to be outfitting them at the Latched On, if no one has done that for them.”
“We have the trip to Triton to train them,” Jessie interjected. “Harbour and I think the best way to do this is to let Belinda Kilmer train and qualify them, and Rules to assist in every step.”
“Smart,” Ituau allowed. “Rules can’t be in charge of training them, but by participating, she can qualify as a team safety member.”
“That’s the plan,” Harbour said, “and I want that qualification in the logs.”
“Aye, aye, Envoy,” Ituau replied, with a grin.
Harbour’s mouth twisted in a sour manner, and she asked, “Why does that sound unsettling, if not ominous?”
“Pyre’s future is now in your hands, Envoy,” Leonard added, spreading his arms wide.
“Okay, stop people. You’re scaring me,” Harbour quipped. The polite chuckles she received settled her. Years ago, a warning from Pyre’s most powerful empath that she was scared would have sent Pyreans running for safety. Now, this intimate group felt comfortable teasing her and not worrying about her reaction.
“What about Belinda’s position as second mate on the Annie, if she’s making the trip to Triton on the Spryte?” Yohlin asked.
“Why are you looking at me?” Jessie riposted.
“Um … apologies, Captain Tulafono,” Yohlin said, turning toward Ituau. “At your earliest convenience, I’d like to discuss Belinda’s transfer and your thoughts on your ship’s officer positions.”
Ituau graciously nodded to Yohlin’s offer and her adroit recovery from the gaffe.
“Kindly include me in that discussion,” Leonard added.
Harbour sensed Jessie’s contentment with the promotion of his new captain. Now, it was her turn to see how the table reacted to her choice.
“I’d like to announce one more promotion,” Harbour said. The emotional temperature of Jessie’s captains changed radically. The Emperion venture’s success had poured coin into everyone’s pockets. A poor choice for the Belle’s captain could upset the familiar and profitable routine.
Harbour picked up her comm unit and signaled.
The table’s attention turned to the salon door. When it slid open, Dingles stepped through. He wore a crisp pair of captain’s coveralls with shoulder bars. Atop his head was his ubiquitous, frayed cap.
“Yes,” Ituau exclaimed, bolting out of her chair. “She rushed to give the Belle’s former first mate a bone-crushing hug.
“Easy there, girl,” Dingles replied. “These bones aren’t as firm as they used to be.”
“Won’t you join us, Captain?” Harbour asked, walking around the table and handing Dingles a glass. She turned to the table and said, “To the Belle’s new captain, Mitch Bassiter.”
There was a round of cheering, and Harbour carefully sampled each captain’s emotions. Only when she was satisfied that her choice of captain had been unconditionally accepted did she smile and relax.
Jessie had carefully observed Harbour, even as he participated in the festive congratulations of Dingles. For the second time in a period of weeks, he made a significant readjustment in his thoughts about Harbour and her powers. Her ability to perceive the emotions of others would be a major asset to an envoy, and as the envoy’s advisor, he had to be a willing participant in her use of those powers if they were to ensure that the negotiation tables wouldn’t be turned against them.
-11-
Selections
The Pearl and the Annie sailed for Emperion, and the deadline for delegate selection was fast approaching. In truth, finding individuals who could make the momentous decision to journey to a distant world for an unknown amount of time was difficult.
“Why me?” Lieutenant Devon Higgins said to his superior, Major Finian.
“It’s either you or me,” Liam replied.
“Why don’t we tell Emerson that neither of us will do it?” Devon protested.
“We can, Devon, and then we can both start looking for new jobs,” Liam replied.
When Devon stared at him in consternation, Liam added, “The commandant’s exact words, I’m afraid.”
“So if I refuse, I’m fired, and you have to go or get fired too,” Devon said.
“That’s about the size of it,” Liam replied.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let my vac suit qualification lapse,” Devon grumbled. An idea occurred to him and he pointed a finger at Liam, saying, “You get me alien hazard pay while I’m gone, and don’t let that tightwad skimp on the coin either.”
“That I can do,” Liam said, laughing. He was greatly relieved that Devon agreed to go. It wasn’t that he feared joining the envoy party. It was that there were too many unresolved issues with the commandant. He had to stay to keep an eye on the man.
Downside, the discussion was direct and terse.
“It’s you, Idrian,” Dorelyn said.
“How do you figure?” Idrian asked, with trepidation.
“It has to be a member of the council,” Dorelyn replied. “Rufus can’t go. You know he’s a xenophobe. And if I go, can you keep the family heads in line?”
Idrian had to admit that Dorelyn’s logic was unassailable. He did make one last, albeit weak, argument. “You know I’m not vac suit qualified.”
“Oh, for the love of Pyre, Idrian, none of the family heads are,” Dorelyn replied in exasperation.
Aboard the JOS, a discussion was floated among the station’s investors who had taken part in ensuring the deployment of the first intravertor. They were, in large part, male and aging. At a private meeting, it was discovered that only three individuals were young enough to participate in the envoy party and had no family members. Dottie Franks was one of them.
The two younger male investors, who did qualify, were adamant about not going. That left Dottie standing alone, but her time with Hans, Trent, and Oster had taught her a thing or two about negotiations.
Dottie stood in front of the group and said, “I’m willing to represent you in negotiations with the Jatouche. However, I see my absence from Pyre as a loss of opportunity to further my investments.” This wasn’t entirely true, because her three friends had promised to invest a portion of her coin in their enterprises.
Dottie negotiated a tidy agreement for the length of her absence from Pyre. Rather than this upsetting the investors, they were pleased to discover that their representative was a savvy businesswoman.
The sum of these discussions meant there was only one slot left to fill on the envoy mission. The station would select one of their own who wasn’t an investor. This was the only post that would be filled by a broad topsider referendum.
“This is ridiculous,” Captain Stamerson said to Sergeant Cecilia Lindstrom and Lieutenant Devon Higgins.
The security personnel were helping Henry research the backgrounds on some of the many individuals who had placed their names on the ballot. Name after name was found to be a less-than-respectable individual.
“Too many unknowns, Captain,” Cecilia commented.
“If you could be a little more precise, Sergeant,” Henry requested.
“The working stationers can’t afford to take the trip … loss of coin or job. And there are too many unknowns about this
trip for those who can afford to go. So, it’s the less reputable, who have nothing to lose, that are signing up,” Cecilia explained.
“There are a good many ex-spacers, who wanted to put their names on the ballot, but they were told by the commandant that they didn’t qualify,” Devon added. “There were some good candidates among them.”
“There is only a day and a half to go before the ballot closes,” Henry complained.
“Wait. Another name has just been added,” Cecilia announced. She searched for the individual in security’s database. “This one is a clear winner. Two tours in security confinement, both times for brawling and putting his opponents in medical.”
Devon and Cecilia regarded Henry’s crestfallen face. Cecilia glanced toward Devon, widened her eyes, and nodded toward Henry. Devon, who was seated on a desk slightly behind Henry, grimaced and held up a hand in protest, which caused Cecilia to repeat her motions in an exaggerated manner.
Devon took a breath and said, “Well, Captain Stamerson, I could use the company.”
Henry turned partially around and studied the lieutenant’s face. He’d thought to outright object to the suggestion, but the more that he mulled it over in his mind, the more he wasn’t so sure the idea didn’t have merit. Henry turned back to regard Cecilia, who was smiling and nodding her head in agreement.
“Envoy Harbour and Captain Cinders would welcome someone of your stature and experience on the team,” Cecilia suggested.
Henry was about to tell the sergeant that flattery wouldn’t work on him, when Devon interrupted. “Captain, think about the others who are going. We have an investor. From what we can determine, Dottie Franks is a good woman, but she represents the wealthy. I’m going for security’s sake, but I doubt I’ll take part in the negotiations. Then you have Idrian Tuttle, who we’ve just learned is a member of the domes’ council, which is an organization that we’ve never heard of before. Who’s going to speak for the stationers … one of these malcontents or felons?”
Henry had always considered himself a deliberate man. He was a person who weighed the pros and cons, judged the risks, before making an important decision. In a departure from that lifelong history, he said to Cecilia, “Add my name.”
