When I was satisfied that I looked as good as I was going to get, I looked at Dr. Baldwin. “All right, show me my latest from Admiral Reed.”
Dr. Baldwin looked doubtful. “Admiral Knapp left orders that he wants to talk to you as soon as you’re up and about.”
“Screw Admiral Knapp.” Just saying that out loud made me feel bolder. There’s power in taking a stand. “On this ship, I am the top of my own chain of command, and I answer only to Admiral Reed. If Knapp has a problem with that, he can take it up with Reed.”
The comm screen lit up, and I saw a flashing icon for Reed. This wasn’t a recording, it was a new incoming call. I pulled it open and spoke to the pickup. “Admiral Reed, Inspector Park reporting, on duty.”
The light-speed delay was almost fifty seconds before Reed responded. “Park, I’ve got complaints from Admiral Knapp, Chief Gale, and others that you are dragging your feet on this investigation, and you’re feeding dissent on the Aldrin. You’ve taken no depositions from Aames, and you’ve taken no depositions from his command crew. They say you’ve had plenty of time, and the evidence—the overwhelming evidence, they say, is clear as starlight—is growing stale while you waste their time. Knapp says there’s no excuse for not empaneling a court. And now he says you’re not fit for duty, and he’s ready to take charge.”
As soon as Reed paused, I answered, “Admiral, Dr. Baldwin has certified me as fit to return to my work. Doctor?”
I turned the pickup to Dr. Baldwin, and she nodded. “Admiral, for the record, I am Dr. Constance Baldwin, chief medical officer of the interplanetary vessel Aldrin, and as of this date, I have certified Inspector General Park Yerim for all administrative and investigative duties. She is still restricted to light physical duties, but is otherwise cleared for work.”
I turned the pickup back to myself. “Thank you, Doctor. Now, Admiral, if the evidence tells us anything at all here, it’s that the case against Aames is far from conclusive. The Admiralty’s official account is only part of the story. Even now, they’re painting only part of the picture. Have you missed the fact that Knapp’s team blew up the I Ring?”
After the delay, Reed answered, “I haven’t missed that, Park, but that’s in the present. What does it have to do with Aames’s crimes in the past?”
“Admiral, have we issued any findings yet? No. Until we do, there were no crimes, only an incident. And Aames’s justification for his actions during that incident was that the Admiralty crew weren’t competent to work aboard the Aldrin, that they couldn’t be trusted with the safety of this ship. Gale”—I made a point to emphasize the name—“has demonstrated that Aames was right about that. That puts this whole case in a new light.”
When Reed finally heard my words, he frowned skeptically. “What, so he’s psychic? He knew that would happen?”
I tried to sound patient and reasonable. I needed to get Reed back on my side, not alienate him. “Admiral, when it comes to this ship, Aames and his team practically are psychic. They know it inside and out, every nut and bolt, and they know what their crew can do. Knapp has been holed up in H Ring, issuing orders but not getting to know this crew. He and Gale don’t know a thing here. I don’t either. If I want to understand what happened during the incident, then I need to understand this ship the way Aames does, the way his crew does, as much as I am able. Am I wrong in that?”
After the delay, Reed shook his head. “No, that’s not wrong, that’s thorough. But Park, you should know that Knapp is making some noises that you’re not up to this job. Your accident is just a convenient excuse, but Knapp was displeased even before that. He and the rest of the admirals are suggesting that you should be replaced.”
I smiled. “I’m sure they are, Admiral. They always do whenever the IG Office gets too close to things they’d rather we not look at. You told me that yourself, remember?” I pulled off my glasses and stared into the pickup, knowing my dark, tired eyes would emphasize my point. “This is what they don’t want us to look at, and I’m not going to let them stop me. If the plenary power of the inspector general can be yanked away anytime it’s inconvenient for them, then it’s no power at all. That’s another lesson you taught me.” I took a deep breath. My next statement was risky; but if I was wrong, I would rather learn that now. “If that lesson was a lie, you’ll bow to their pressure and remove me. But if the independence of the IG Office means anything, then I respectfully request that you let me get back to my job. Sir.”
Reed’s face was frightening when he finally heard my words; but he held back for nearly half a minute after I was done, and his scowl slowly softened. “You’re right, of course, Park. You’re not the only one under a lot of pressure here, but it will only get worse if we let it divide the office. You have my full support. I’ll put that in writing as soon as we’re done here.”
Relieved, I put my glasses back on, sighing as I did so. “Thank you, Admiral. And, sir, if there’s anyone I know who can handle pressure, it’s you. Park out.”
I waited for Admiral Reed to dismiss me, and then I swiped the comm session closed. I turned the desk chair to face where Dr. Baldwin sat in the office chair. She looked at me and shook her head. “They’re not going to give up that easily, you know.”
“I know.” I smiled. “But I just made it personal with Admiral Reed. Now they’re not stepping on my toes, they’re stepping on his. He kicks back, and he has some very large boots. They had better guard their shins. And that reminds me, I have some kicking of my own to do.”
I pulled open a channel to Admiral Knapp’s office in H Ring. His aide, Commander Curry, answered. Her face was perfectly neutral, perfectly noncommittal as she said, “Admiral Knapp’s office, can I help you?”
“This is Inspector General Park Yerim.” She knew perfectly well who I was, but Curry was a stickler for protocol. “Let me speak to the admiral, please.”
Curry remained neutral, though with just a hint of a grin. I suspected she enjoyed obstructing people. “I’m sorry, Admiral Knapp is busy. He left orders not to be disturbed.”
I, on the other hand, made no effort to hide my grin. “That’s all right, you can pass him a message for me. I have heard a rumor that he has stationed Admiralty guards throughout the Aldrin. I’m sure that must be some sort of mistake, as it would directly contravene my orders confining Admiralty personnel to G and H Rings except for official duties.”
That wiped the impassive look from Curry’s face and replaced it with shock. “Ship’s security is an official duty.”
I shook my head. “Not in my judgment.” I emphasized that last word, rubbing my IG ribbon with my fingertips. “I’m sure that once the admiral has time to straighten out this misunderstanding, he’ll find that some junior officer overstepped their bounds. I think ten minutes ought to do. Please inform your guards that they have ten minutes to return to G Ring. After that, I’m sure Commander Adika’s security crew would be happy to help them find their way.”
Curry started to protest, but I pushed the comm channel closed. “There, one more call out of the way.” I felt weak, but strong at the same time. It felt good to take action.
I braced myself to get up, and the automated IV stand backed away to give me room. Dr. Baldwin rushed to my side. “Here, let me help.” I decided not to protest; and with her help, I limped back into the infirmary with my IV.
This time as we passed Adika’s bed, I had the courage to speak up. “Doctor, how’s Commander Adika doing?”
The warmth of Baldwin’s smile answered before she could. “He’s much better. Thank you. His blood pressure’s strong, his muscles are starting to regrow, and his liver’s practically clean. Dr. Santana’s almost done growing his new lungs, and we’ll start surgery this evening. He’ll pull through fine. My man is strong as a rhino.”
I smiled back, remembering Aames’s visit the night before. “Like a rhino,” I agreed. I owed Adika my life, and I was glad the price he paid hadn’t been his own.
We crossed over to my
bunk, and I picked up my pants. “Doctor, can you help me get these on? And where are my shoes?”
Dr. Baldwin shook her head. “I haven’t discharged you yet.”
Reaching deep, I summoned up a little more of the courage I had needed to face Reed. “Doctor, we just told Admiral Reed that I was fit and on duty. Shall I call him back and tell him we lied?”
The doctor shook her head. “No, but . . . Oh, sit down.” She helped me remove my jacket, then gave me a thorough examination. Finally she disconnected my IVs and my nano sump, and she handed me my full uniform. “All right, but light duty, just like I said. And I’m going to prescribe you a physical therapy regimen to get you back into top shape. If you slack off, I’ll send guards to drag you back here and strap you into that bed.”
“Understood, Doctor. I’ll behave.”
Dr. Baldwin helped me get dressed, and then she pronounced me fit to return to duty. She went to Adika’s bed to check on him, while I turned to Smitty’s bed. “Well, roomie,” I said, “it looks like you lost our little contest. I’m going to beat you back to duty by at least a day.”
Smitty smiled, and I saw that her skin was already relaxing, healing quickly. “We never said what the prize was. So what did I lose?”
I smiled back. “I’ll figure that out.” I reached out a hand to shake hers, and she took it in both her hands, squeezed it, and pulled it close to her. Then she let go and saluted. “It was good rooming with you, Inspector.”
“Indeed it was, Bosun.” I hesitantly returned the salute, and then I left the infirmary.
I had been days behind in my paperwork before the explosion of the I Ring. Two days in the infirmary hadn’t helped me any, though Matt had done an admirable job in my absence. He’d handled most of the mundane matters, leaving only the most critical issues for my decision. Of course that meant I had to review all his decisions, just to be sure he was handling them correctly; but by the time I was done with that, I trusted his judgment pretty highly. I sent Admiral Reed a message recommending Matt for immediate promotion to lieutenant so that I could delegate more work to him. Reed’s quick approval made me feel proud both for Matt and for myself: Reed may have had doubts, but now I had his full support.
But I also had too much paperwork and a heavy therapy regimen from Dr. Baldwin, mostly a lot of walking to strengthen my legs and my respiratory system. Fortunately she had also given me a way to combine them: the heads-up display in my dark glasses. Back at university, I had mastered the art of studying while walking, with many nights spent studying on the university running track. As long as the traffic was orderly and I turned on the proximity alarm on my comp, I could walk for two or three hours while reading. With the voice control in the glasses, I could also respond to reports, forwarding them as needed or dictating notes for Matt to handle them.
So I spent the next few days at my desk for first and second watches, third watches walking the track in the inner ring, and then having a shower and dinner. The walking time was actually peaceful, so I could concentrate on the more difficult issues that came before me. The track wasn’t used much during third watch, and the proximity sensor in my comp was in fine working order, so I had no problem with collisions. As my eyes adjusted, I lowered the polarization on my glasses, but I kept using them for reading.
On the fourth night, my left-side sensor buzzed, so I knew someone was coming up beside me. I shifted to my right—and straight into a runner. We collided, and I tripped and fell flat on my face, my glasses sliding across the deck. Immediately, pain throbbed behind my eyes: they were almost completely recovered, but they were still sensitive. Dr. Baldwin said that would last a couple more days until my retinas adjusted. They still had the sensitivity of infant retinas, but I was working them like old, tired adult eyes.
“Sorry,” I said as I squinted and looked for my glasses. “I don’t understand, the proximity alert said you were on my left.”
“Here you go,” a baritone voice said. I felt my glasses placed in my hand, and I put them on. Then I saw the dark, friendly face of Chief Carver leaning over me. “The sensors don’t always work in an open space like this ring. The echoes can bounce off the walls.” Carver held out a hand. “Can I help you up, Inspector?”
I took Carver’s hand, and he pulled me to my feet. I breathed in deep and shook my legs, feeling for any new damage, but there was none. I let out my breath in a sigh. “I guess I’ve been lucky I didn’t hit anyone sooner. Thank you, Chief.”
Carver looked at my comp. “May I?” I nodded, expecting him to remove it from my sleeve and investigate it. Instead he looked at his own comp; but my screen started flashing with images and messages. Just as quickly the flashing stopped, and Carver tapped his own screen. “Yes, here’s the problem. Your proximity sensor is fine, looking forward. It shows you’ve avoided fourteen collisions in the past four days. But it’s not calibrated correctly for side to side, the echolocation is out of sync. Here, I’ll recalibrate it.” He pushed more commands to my comp, and my screen flashed another message: “Calibration Complete.” Carver nodded. “Respectfully, Inspector, never navigate using uncalibrated instruments. You’re lucky you weren’t injured.”
“Thank you, Chief Carver.” I was grateful, but I also felt awkward. I was on the Aldrin to decide the future of Nick Aames; but whatever happened to Aames, Carver would share in his fate. I had this man’s life in my hands, and here he was keeping me safe. “But I interrupted your run. I should let you get back to it.”
Carver smiled, a broad, warm smile, and I could see why so many of his crew trusted him so easily. “No worries, Inspector. I have plenty of time to run these days.”
Ouch! Was that a dig? But I didn’t hear any malice in his tone or see any in his face. Carver just seemed to be genuinely in good spirits. I fumbled for an answer. “All right, then. But I’m under doctor’s orders. I need to keep walking.”
“Certainly. You don’t want to argue with Connie. Even if she’s in a better mood now.” That I knew: Commander Adika had come through his surgeries in good health, and he had spoken to her just that morning. “So you’d best keep walking. Why don’t I keep you company?”
So despite my discomfort around him, I found myself walking the track with Carver for hours, talking the whole time. And soon I lost all of my awkwardness. Anson Carver was a natural at putting people at ease. I couldn’t discuss Aames’s case with him, but I found myself discussing practically everything else: the tense situation on the Aldrin, the pressure from the Admiralty, Adika’s recovery, and the latest news from Mars. I briefly mentioned the foibles of Horace Gale, but Carver diplomatically steered us to another topic at the first opportunity. And from that I detected a pattern: Carver would never willingly say anything bad about anyone, at least in those unofficial discussions. If he had criticism, he always couched it in terms of opportunities for improvement. I thought at first he was simply being polite, but I began to suspect that Chief Carver was just that optimistic. He wanted to find the positive potential in everyone.
And inevitably the conversation turned to Captain Aames. I tried to avoid it, out of principle; but there was no topic on the Aldrin that did not eventually involve Aames. Even when he wasn’t there, he was there.
I even found myself explaining my theory on Aames. “I understand how people can trust him. He’s good, the best in the Corps probably.”
“Definitely,” Carver interrupted.
“Okay, he’s the best. If you want to be safe, to finish your mission, he’s your man. And if you want your people trained to be their best, he’ll push them to do better.”
Carver held up a hand. “Or break them. Not everyone can keep up with Nick’s demands.”
I nodded. “I can see that. Back in my files I have hundreds of pages of complaints from spacers who feel they got a raw deal from him. He has broken more careers than any three other commanding officers combined. But the crew that survives his pressure have a higher commendation rate than average in the Corps,
by nearly a standard deviation. Those who leave for other posts—and that’s a pretty low number, compared to other commanders—maintain those high standards. The only major blemish on their records is they keep doing things ‘the Aames way’ instead of adjusting to their new commanders.”
Carver answered, “Yes, we get a lot of return transfers. Our crew discover they miss the community here.”
“Yes.” I nodded again. “That’s the word, ‘community.’ The crew not only trust Aames, they trust each other. This is more than an assignment for them. And yet, even though I can see why people trust Aames, I don’t see how they . . .” I trailed off, not sure how to say what I was thinking.
Then Carver said it for me: “How they can stand him?” He smiled. “How they can stand such a difficult, demanding man?”
Once Carver had said it, I felt safe in agreeing. “Exactly. I’m sorry, I know he’s your friend; but even his officers say how unpleasant he is. How uncaring.” I thought again about Aames in the infirmary. “But is that the real him? I don’t know, and I think I need to.”
Carver looked doubtful. “Inspector, I really don’t feel comfortable with this. I appreciate what you’re saying, but I don’t think I should comment without counsel. My career is on the line, too, remember.” Exactly. He had brought the conversation right back around to my original concerns. I really needed to stop the discussion right there.
But what had Smitty said? “If you really want to understand Captain Aames, the one person you have to talk to is Chief Carver.” I believed her, especially after this discussion. So once again I found myself pledging secrecy: “Please, Chief Carver. Off the record. Your opinion is vital to me here.”
Carver stopped walking, and I stopped and turned to him. He stared me straight in the eye, and I felt like he was weighing my integrity to see if I could be trusted. I hoped I would measure up.
Finally Carver smiled. “All right, Inspector. Maybe if you understand the man, you’ll see a way out of this situation. You’re right, Nick’s not pleasant. He’s not friendly or warm. He’s not fun very often, although sometimes he can be, if you learn to understand his sense of humor—and if he doesn’t turn it upon you.
The Last Dance Page 24
