The Last Dance

by Martin L Shoemaker

  Then Anthony finally noticed me. “Oh, hey, Doc. No hard feelings, right? Get the Doc a drink, somebody. Look, Nick, it’s no big deal.” Anthony had a drink in his right hand and waved it around, gesturing with it as if making a point. “The doc just got a little, you know, hot. She’s used to ordering patients around, and I don’t take orders.”

  “I understand, Mr. Holmes. The doctor just didn’t realize how strongly you hold to your NoNan views.”

  I began to get annoyed all over again. What happened to Nick Aames, the Terror of the Spaceways? Here he was, coddling the boss’s son just like all the other ass-kissers. Aames could learn a thing or two from Major Adika.

  And Anthony was lapping it up. “That’s right, NoNan!” He raised his voice and stood. “NoNan, everybody. Say it with me. No! Nanos!” And just as he commanded, many civilians in the crowd joined in as Anthony stood. “No! Nanos! No! Nanos! NONAN!” Anthony waved his drink around, spilling it, and I barely dodged the alcohol.

  The room broke out in scattered applause, and Anthony bowed and sat. As the applause died down, he waved his now empty glass at the captain. “No nanos, Nick. I’m keeping my body pure. And that’s final.”

  The captain nodded and spoke calmly. “I understand. Dr. Baldwin has explained the risks if you decline therapeutic nanos?” I tried to answer, but the captain held up a hand. “Let him answer, please, Doctor. For the record.”

  Anthony stared into space. “She didn’t, but that nurse guy, Floyd—”

  “Carl Lloyd,” the captain corrected.

  “Yeah, Lloyd. He read off all the risks, all the usual nano company lies. I’ve heard them all before.”

  “So you were informed of the risks, and you’re declining treatment. For the record,” the captain repeated.

  “Yes, and yes.”

  “So noted.” The captain tapped a button on his comm, and Holmes’s statement was recorded. That was it? That would get me and him off the hook legally, but it wouldn’t do a thing about the risks.

  But the captain wasn’t done. “And now I think an apology is in order.”

  My jaw dropped. No! I couldn’t swallow that much pride. No way would I apologize to that young punk, even if it meant my job.

  Before I could object, Anthony blinked twice, and then responded. “It’s all right, Nick. The Doc meant well. She doesn’t have to apologize. We’re good, right, Doc?”

  I was ready to shout that we were not at all good; but before I could, Captain Aames raised his voice and said, “You’ve made a mistake, Mr. Holmes.” He looked down at his comm. “It’s you who are going to apologize to Dr. Baldwin for manhandling her, a professional and one of my officers. You’re also going to apologize for your slanderous accusations.”

  “What?” Anthony leaned over the table. “You forget who you’re talking to. You’re outta line, Nick.”

  And before anyone knew what was happening, the captain reached out and swiftly slapped Anthony across the face. “That’s Captain Aames to you, kid.”

  Everything happened at once. The room grew silent at the slap, so everyone heard the captain. The guards moved toward our table; but Major Adika held up one hand, and they stepped back. I noticed a very slight grin on the major’s face.

  Anthony rubbed his jaw. “What— Nick—” The captain raised his hand again, so Anthony corrected himself. “What do you think you’re doing, Captain? Who do you think is in charge here?”

  The captain checked his comm again, and then he pushed a file to the major’s comm. “As of two minutes ago, I am. We just passed Earth’s gravipause.”

  Anthony tried to focus. “Earth’s what?”

  “If you actually belonged in space, you would know that the gravipause is that point where the sun’s gravitational pull exceeds Earth and Luna’s combined gravity.”

  Anthony acted like he understood, but I doubted anything had penetrated all that alcohol. “That’s interesting. But it’s still no excuse to be insolent.”

  “You damn bet it’s an excuse. According to my contract with your father’s corporation, once the sun’s pull takes over, I have plenary power here. I can do whatever I, in my sole judgment, decide is necessary for the safety of my passengers and crew and for the safe completion of our mission. I can dispense orders, regulations, and discipline as I see fit.”

  Major Adika nodded. “He’s correct, Mr. Holmes. This contract is very clear. He can’t have you flogged or keelhauled, he can’t violate your fundamental rights, but he has practically the powers of an old British sea captain when it comes to the smooth operation of this ship.”

  Captain Aames glared at Anthony. “And smooth operation requires proper respect for my officers and crew while in performance of their duties. You will apologize to Dr. Baldwin. Now.”

  Anthony scowled. “I will not.”

  As quick as before, Captain Aames reached out and slapped Anthony again. Then he lowered his voice so that only the three of us could hear. “If you make me slap you again, kid, I’ll pull your pants down to do it in front of all your adoring fans. Now, apologize to the doctor. Make sure everybody hears it.” Then he sat back and waited.

  Anthony stared, a mix of emotions struggling across his face: defiance, fear, anger, and shock. I might’ve felt sorry for him if he hadn’t angered me in the first place. Finally he leaned back in his chair, looked around the room, and raised his voice. “I am sorry, Dr. Baldwin. It was disrespectful to accuse you of taking money from the nano companies. And I was wrong to grab you like I did. That was no way to treat an officer of this ship.” He paused, looking down at his empty glass. Then, even louder, he added, “What are you all looking at? This is supposed to be a party. Bartender, a round for the house.”

  The noise picked back up again, though it sounded a bit forced. Under the rattle of glasses and the buzz of conversation, Anthony added, “Happy now, Captain Aames?”

  The captain ignored the scorn, but he laughed haltingly. “Kid, your entire fortune couldn’t make me happy. But for now, I’m satisfied with your apology.”

  Anthony was surly, and he didn’t try to hide it. “I suppose now you’re going to force me to take therapy nanos.”

  Captain Aames shook his head. “No, that would be a clear violation of your fundamental rights. I can’t force you to accept invasive therapy against your will. But I can take other measures for your own protection. Dr. Baldwin?”

  I sat up straighter. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Doctor, what was the preventive therapy for musculoskeletal loss and incidental radiation exposure before we perfected therapy nanos?”

  “Captain, it involved tripling the recommended exercise regimen. That provides sufficient muscle growth and bone development to counter the losses. And a good, healthy, active metabolism can repair most low-level radiation damage. Assuming he stays healthy otherwise.”

  “I see. And has the kid even started the standard regimen?”

  I checked Anthony’s chart. “Not yet, Captain. Of course, it’s still early in the day.”

  “Nonsense, Doctor. Never too early for exercise.” The captain stood. “On your feet, kid!”

  “Fuck off.” Anthony tapped his comm, but then he looked puzzled. He stabbed with his finger, but still nothing happened. “Hey! Why can’t I call Dad?”

  The captain replied, “I cut off your outbound communications.”

  “You can’t do that! You can’t violate my rights.”

  “I can’t violate them; but in the interests of ship operations, I can regulate and restrict them. We only have so much communications bandwidth, so I have to meter it. You will get one fifteen-minute call, once per day. Your slot is after your workout. Now on your feet.” And with that, Captain Aames reached down, grabbed that expensive blue shirt, twisted it into a knot, and easily lifted Anthony in the low gravity. He set the young man down on his feet, looked him over, and sneered. “Drunk. Flabby. Out of shape. We’ll have to do something about that. Kid, the running track is one ring up, but you can
start running now. Get up there and give me some laps.”

  Anthony looked indignant. “I’ll be your boss someday.”

  “Only if I can keep you alive that long. Now move!” The captain raised his hand again, and Anthony flinched. Then he stumbled through the crowd. Major Adika moved ahead of him, clearing a path, and Anthony ran to the door.

  “That’s a start,” the captain called after him. “But faster!” He turned to me. “Doctor, shouldn’t you be supervising his therapy?”

  “Yes, Captain.” I didn’t see why I needed to watch the kid run, but I wasn’t ready to cross Captain Aames. I got up and headed to the door just in time to see Anthony bolt antispinward, toward his cabin; but the major grabbed his arm, spun him around, and shoved him spinward toward the ramp to the upper ring. Adika grinned as they passed me.

  I started jogging as well, using the long, loping low-gravity stride we had learned in lunar training. I had gone only a few meters when a bit of gray appeared in my peripheral vision. Turning my head slightly, I saw Captain Aames jogging beside me. “Best you can do?” he asked.

  And then he pulled ahead of me, rushing to pass the major and catch Anthony. He prodded the kid all the way up the ramp and onto the big running track. The track was a third of a kilometer, completely circling the upper ring. When I reached the top of the ramp, I saw Anthony stumble up ahead, and the captain catch him, then coax and prod him, demonstrating the low-G lope. Anthony struggled with the stride, but Captain Aames got him moving.

  I was still adjusting to the lope myself, so I lost sight of them; but I could see Major Adika, so I rushed to catch up with him. Then as my stride adjusted, we both picked up speed until we were up with the captain and the kid. The captain had thrown off his uniform jacket somewhere, and his shirt showed sweat stains. I decided that was smart, so I threw off mine as well.

  The captain set a reasonable pace, especially in one-quarter G, but Anthony soon showed signs of fatigue. That only made Captain Aames more persistent. “Slacker! Are you that soft, kid?” He cajoled and taunted to keep Anthony moving.

  Sometimes the captain moved ahead and loped backward, keeping right in the kid’s face as he tossed out casual insults. “Your problem is you can’t pay someone to run for you. Do you ever do anything on your own?” That spurred the kid onward, though he didn’t have breath to respond.

  After fifteen laps, I slowed down. I was in okay shape, but I didn’t run much. The major dropped back with me, though I’m sure that was just courtesy: he didn’t show any signs of strain. Anthony attempted to slow down as well, but the captain pushed him even harder. Soon they were out of sight again, and I enjoyed my leisurely run with Adika.

  Not long after that, the captain and Anthony passed us. A little later, they passed us again, moving faster this time. The kid was looking pale, and I raised my hand for the captain’s attention, but he pointedly ignored me. It gave me some comfort to see that the captain’s shirt was drenched with sweat. He wasn’t a machine after all.

  Halfway around the ring, we had to dodge around a mess on the track. I smelled stomach acid, and I saw bits of undigested soy cheese in the puddle.

  The next time around, the captain and Anthony had finally stopped. Aames stood and supervised as Anthony, shirtless, sopped up the vomit with an expensive blue silk rag. The captain called, “Halt!” and Adika and I came to a stop. Anthony looked up from his work, panting, and glared at Aames. The captain returned the glare and then turned to me. “Doctor.”

  I recognized the command in his tone, so I dropped to my knees, grabbed Anthony’s wrist, and felt for a pulse: 180, high but not dangerously so for his age and health. His respiration was labored, but already it was slowing. I leaned my ear to his chest. His heart sounded busy, but good. I didn’t have my bag, so I couldn’t check BP or electrolyte balance, hardly any of my routine checks; but I had enough data to give a preliminary answer. “He’s fine, Captain. He’ll feel it tomorrow, but he’s fine.”

  “You bet he’ll feel it.” The captain paused for breath. “Major Adika?”

  The major snapped to attention, his broad chest rising and falling steadily in that damp ochre shirt. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Major, this has been fun, but I can’t spare this much time day after day, even for the health of the kid. He needs three runs per day, Doctor?” I nodded. “Since he’s such an important kid, I can take time to run with him third watch every day. Major, can you handle first watch?”

  Major Adika nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

  The captain turned back to me. “Doctor, this is therapy, so we need medical supervision. I need you to take the second watch.”

  “Yes, Captain. I’ll need to trade watches with Dr. Santana.”

  “Don’t bother me with details, Doctor, just do your job.” He held down a hand to Anthony, but the kid ignored it. The captain snapped his fingers twice, and finally Anthony got the message. He took the hand, and the captain pulled him to his feet. “So, kid, that’ll be your routine from here to Mars: a half-hour run, once each watch. Except fourth watch, we’ll let you sleep through that one. You’ll need it. Doctor, should that be a sufficient substitute for therapy nanos?”

  I smiled and nodded. “It should, Captain.”

  Again looking at Anthony, the captain continued, “Three top officers watching out for your health. That’s how important you are. Does that sound good, kid? Or would you like to get those injections now?”

  Anthony couldn’t stand straight, but he lifted his head enough to glare at the captain. “No, Captain.” And without another word, he staggered down the ramp to the middle deck. Major Adika ambled after him. Aside from the sweaty shirt, you might never have known that the major had worked out.

  I waited until they were out of sight down the ramp, and then I spoke up. “Captain, you know he’s going to call his father immediately.”

  The captain turned and stared at me. “Did I ask for observations, Doctor?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Good!” My eyes widened. I had expected recrimination, not praise. “Don’t look so shocked, Doctor. I expect you to bring things to my attention when you think they’re important. You can expect me to chew you out when I think you’re wasting my time. And I expect you to push back because you know you’re right. I expect you to fight me until we know what the facts are. I don’t need a bunch of yes-men for officers. I need the whistleblower who gave up her career because she knew she was right. That’s who I hired; is that who I got?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “That sounds rather timid to me, Doctor. Are you ready to fight me when I’m wrong?”

  “YES, CAPTAIN!”

  “That’s better.” The captain nodded, and his tone softened. “You’re right, Doctor, he’ll call Anton Holmes. Not immediately, he’s too exhausted. But eventually. And then Anton will call me. And then, I don’t think the kid will like the outcome.”

  “Understood, Captain. But might I ask one favor?”

  “Spit it out, Doctor.”

  “Captain, I would dearly like to listen in on that call from Anton Holmes.”

  Again his tone softened, and he sounded amused. “Doctor, it would be my pleasure. Besides, I may need the kid’s physician to back me up.”

  When the time came, I wasn’t the only one waiting for the call. Major Adika joined us. The captain’s office was decorated in tasteful dark shades: black walls, big black desk with a touch-display surface, dark-gray carpet, and brushed metal accents. The navy-blue chair provided a spot of color that drew attention to its occupant. It was such a relief from the ochre throughout the ship, I felt the urge to hide there through my entire tour. But that would’ve meant hiding out with Captain Aames; despite our new dètente, I wasn’t ready for that. He still struck me as volatile and demanding, and I didn’t need that kind of stress all day long. I didn’t know how Chief Carver could handle it.

  Behind the captain, a massive window showed Earth and Luna slowly spinning past, over si
x light-seconds away. I stared at the dwindling planets, and I thought about escape: all my past mistakes, all the wreckage that had been my career, it was all just a microscopic point on that little blue dot in the distance. I might make all new mistakes here on the Aldrin, but this really was a second chance for me. I was determined to make this work.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a chime from the desk. A beat-up old e-reader sat in the middle of the desk. Captain Aames slid it to the side, and then he waved us to stand behind him. He tapped the desk’s surface, and a woman’s face appeared in a window in the center of the glass. She said, “Incoming call from Anton Holmes, Captain.”

  Aames nodded at the desk. “Put him through, Miles.” The woman’s window moved aside, and another window appeared, showing an older man who was recognizably a relative of Anthony Holmes. The hair was the same dark blond, but short and bushy and with many gray bristles. The face was thinner, harder, and more serious; but the bone structure was the same, and he had the same intense blue eyes. Those eyes were narrowed at the screen, though he probably couldn’t see us yet.

  “Mr. Anton Holmes,” Miles said, “Captain Aames can speak to you now. Please remember that the light-speed delay is six seconds one way, twelve seconds round trip. Mr. Holmes, please begin.” Experienced interplanetary hands can speak in parallel, each person making points while listening to older points as they arrive; but for most people, it was simpler to wait for each statement, and for one party to control the discussion until passing control to the other. Miles had just given Anton Holmes control, so we had a twelve-second wait for him to begin.

  The woman disappeared, replaced with the view from the captain’s camera, a narrow focus that showed only him, not the major and me. After a pause, Holmes spoke. “So, Nick, I understand you had a problem with my son.”

  The captain responded. “Your son was drunk before we reached the gravipause. He grabbed my doctor. He’s lucky she didn’t belt him. She has a history, you know.” He looked up at me, eyebrows raised as if daring me to protest.