Into the Dark (Alexis Carew Book 1)

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Into the Dark (Alexis Carew Book 1) Page 16

by J. A. Sutherland


  As they neared the gates, they found a group of men waiting for them. Most were burly farmhands, but Daviel Coalson was easy to pick out. He wore jacket well-tailored to his fit form, and his graying hair was slicked back on his head.

  “Captain Grantham,” he said, stepping forward to the gate but not opening it.

  “Have we met, sir?” Grantham asked, stepping up to the gate as well. He held out his hand to the other man but withdrew it when Coalson gave no sign of responding in kind.

  Alexis stood behind Lieutenant Caruthers, doing her best to remain unnoticed. Though she’d never met Daviel Coalson, word of her joining Merlin’s company must surely have spread and there certainly weren’t that many fifteen-year old girls in the Navy that the man would mistake her for someone else.

  “There’s only the one Navy ship in-system, sir, and I’ve cause to remember your name. Your last visit to my lands left me several workers shorter.”

  “We properly paid you their remaining indentures, Mister Coalson,” Caruthers said. “Left with your foreman at the site and all according to law.”

  “With Navy Drafts! I’ve to wait six or more months on for payment while your chandler, that scoundrel Doakes, gets confirmation!”

  “I understand your frustration, sir, I do. It’s no more than we have to wrestle with when dealing with the Prize Court and the men’s pay each month.” Grantham smiled. “Why, just last week, we took a prize outside this very system, but once we deliver it to Zariah. it’ll be a year or more, no doubt, before we see the Prize Court’s findings on it.”

  “A smuggler, you say?”

  “Indeed, bound for Dalthus with pirated goods, no less.”

  “I see. What brings you to my lands again, Captain?”

  “I’d prefer to discuss it inside, sir, if we may.”

  “I think not, Captain. This is my home and I’ve no cause to invite you in.” He changed his gaze to stare at Alexis. “And certainly not with that one in your company.”

  “Do you have some grievance against my midshipman, sir?”

  “Midshipman?” Coalson snorted. “I don’t know why you’ve chosen to take her aboard your ship, Captain, but she assaulted my son and she’s lucky the boy didn’t proffer charges.”

  “Indeed?”

  Alexis could feel Caruthers turn to look at her and she flushed, but kept her eyes firmly fixed ahead. He leaned toward her and whispered, “Assault, Mister Carew?”

  “I may have poured a bit of tea over his head,” she whispered back, barely moving her lips. “And perhaps threatened him. A bit.”

  “I’ll want to hear more of this, I think,” Caruthers murmured with a grin.

  “The issue I wish to discuss with you, Mister Coalson,” Grantham said, “has naught to do with my officers.”

  “And what issue is that, Captain? For I do little business with the Navy and have work of my own to complete this day.”

  “It has to do with those smugglers I mentioned. Are you quite certain you wouldn’t like to discuss it in private?”

  “More than before, Captain, as I have neither interest nor concern for smuggling. It doesn’t affect me, sir.”

  Grantham removed his tablet and held it out to the other man. “Do you recognize these coordinates, sir?”

  Coalson made no move to take it, nor even look.

  “Should I, Captain?”

  “They are, sir, not too very far from here, in fact, and on your lands.”

  Coalson’s eyes narrowed. He finally looked at the tablet but took only a short glance. “I have extensive lands, Captain, and that area is, as yet, undeveloped. I fail to take your point.”

  “They were found aboard the smugglers’ ship. These five sets of coordinates. Why would that be? I’m simply curious, Mister Coalson, as to why the smugglers would be putting down on your lands.”

  “My name was not mentioned by these ‘smugglers’, Captain?”

  “It was not.”

  “Then what you have are numbers. Numbers that may or may not be ‘coordinates’ and numbers that may not even be on Dalthus if they are. Please, do come again should you ever have business that matters to me.” He turned his back to them and strode off toward the house, his men following.

  Grantham watched his retreating back for a moment and then turned back to the boat, motioning for the party to follow.

  “Well, he’s our man, then, sir?” Caruthers asked quietly.

  Grantham nodded. “One of them at least, it seems certain.”

  Alexis was quite confused at how they could be so certain. “Sir? If I may? He denied it all so how can you be sure?”

  “Tell me, Mister Carew,” Caruthers asked. “With a brief glance at five sets of latitude and longitude, could you or your grandfather state with certainty which was on your lands and that it was ‘as yet undeveloped’?”

  “Especially–” Grantham added, handing her his tablet that displayed only four sets of coordinates, the fifth having been scrolled off screen. “–if the coordinates for your own lands were not displayed at all?”

  * * *

  Alexis chose one of the tiny cakes from the plate Julia had placed on the kitchen table and popped the whole thing into her mouth. The rich flavor and sweetness filled her mouth. Sweets were something she’d missed during her time on Merlin. The ship’s cook seemed to know nothing except to add cream and sugar to rice and call it a pudding. Since the rice was cooked with ship’s water and the “cream” was powdered milk rehydrated with ship’s water, the result was … distressing.

  “Miss my cooking, did you?” Julia asked, returning with two cups of tea.

  Alexis grasped hers and quickly sipped. It wasn’t proper etiquette, of course, but she needed to rid her mouth of the cake before answering.

  “I missed you especially,” she said. “But, yes, your cooking as well.” She grinned. “Though I’m not sure even you could do anything with the provisions aboard ship.”

  Julia smiled. “Should I take that as a challenge and follow you aboard?”

  “Your cooking would be welcome, I assure you.” She quickly popped another cake into her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss.

  Julia’s smile faded. “And what of you, Alexis? Were you welcome aboard these past weeks?”

  Alexis was silent for a moment, considering. “I believe I have been.” She thought about it some more. Aside from Alan, there had been no real incidents, serious as that one had been. The men in her division seemed to genuinely like and respect her, especially Acker and the topmen, Burleighy and Hadd. When she’d first come aboard, there had been some dark looks and muttering, she knew, but they’d faded quickly. “I truly do,” she said, surprised by how easily she’d found herself fitting in.

  “And what do you think about it yourself?”

  She had no need to think about her answer to that and found her face breaking into a wide grin.

  “I love it, Julia! I really do!” She caught her lip between her teeth, torn with what to talk about first. “I went Outside when we first transitioned to darkspace, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in life!” She paused for a moment, trying to find the words. “It was like the sky was alive and fighting itself.”

  Julia looked at her askance. “I’d always heard it was terrifying.”

  “No,” Alexis insisted. “It’s … perfect. I almost feel as though I can see the winds. I can’t, I know, but it seems so. And Julia, I’m good at it — I know I am. Sometimes the captain will give an order to trim sail or change our course, and it’s the very thing I was thinking we should do! And it’s important work. We caught a smuggler right here in Dalthus!”

  “So I heard,” Julia said. She reached out and grasped Alexis’ forearm. “We were quite worried about you when Merlin came in-system with a prize. Your grandfather especially — it was all he could do to wait until word came that you were safe.”

  “But we took her without a shot in return. There was no danger. The gunner put a shot straight thr
ough her topsail and it shredded from the stress. She struck instanter and there wasn’t a bit of fuss when we boarded her.” Alexis felt her heart begin to race as she described the chase. Even the horror she’d felt at seeing bodies fall away from the other ship’s masts had faded quickly, replaced by the thrill of chasing and capturing their quarry. And they shouldn’t have run if they didn’t want the risk. We gave them every chance to strike before firing into her.

  “Look at you, with your ‘topsails’ and ‘boarding’. You sound quite the proper spacer.”

  Alexis looked down, blushing and took another cake to hide her embarrassment. “Well, and I hope I should. There’s little leeway given for being told something once, let alone twice.”

  Julia stood. “I’ll just prepare a bit of sweet for you to take with you, seeing as how you’ve finished with all that.”

  Alexis looked at the table, eyes widening when she saw that she had, indeed, eaten all of the cakes Julia had set out.

  “Heavens, I’m sorry, Julia. I’ve made quite the pig of myself. It’s just that we’ve nothing so good aboard ship. I’m sure the cook tries … well, I think he must try very hard, but the stores the purser brings aboard are not the best.”

  Julia laughed. “No matter at all.” Her gaze grew calculating. “And how many lads is it you say are suffering so up there?”

  * * *

  “Lexi-girl.”

  “I’ve missed you so, grandfather,” Alexis said, wrapping her arms around him and feeling his go about her in turn. The captain and Lieutenant Caruthers had finished speaking with him and gone outside to see that more supplies they’d negotiated for were loaded, clearly leaving Alexis to visit with her family without the strictures of other officers being present.

  “And I you,” Denholm said, holding her tightly. “It’s been an empty place without you here.” He sighed heavily. “You read my letters, I trust?”

  They separated and sat down while Julia brought them both more tea.

  “I only just received them when we returned to Dalthus,” Alexis said, sipping hers. “They, none of them, caught up with Merlin on our patrol.”

  She grimaced at this, the difficulties and delays of sending messages between planets were great enough, let alone to a ship that might change destination at any time. Her time on the signals console had taught her the process, but it seemed so … haphazard. Messages simply went with outbound ships, transmitted and retransmitted to other planets, stations and ships in what was believed to be the general direction of their intended target. Eventually, with a bit of luck, both message and destination would wind up in the same system and it would be delivered. Then came the process of marking it so and transmitting that bit of information along to begin removing all of the copies on other ships, planets, and stations.

  Alexis had been astounded by the size of the undelivered message store aboard Merlin. Full of millions of messages Merlin had yet to deliver or receive an instruction to remove. Some of them a year or more old and only just about to expire with the assumption that they had either been delivered or that Merlin would never meet their intended recipient.

  Official Navy communications, of course, were treated somewhat differently, but the process was much the same. Though they were only transmitted to Navy ships or depots, there were still hundreds if not more copies of any given message being carried across the galaxy at any one time, all in the hope that one would reach the recipient as soon as possible.

  “Well, there was news to hope over in them.” He held up a hand at Alexis’ expectant look. “Hope, but not rejoice. I’ve still no reason to expect change outside of years, but if we plan it well, there’s a chance we could change the inheritance laws. Have to plan a vote, at least, though, and that’ll take a year or more to achieve.”

  Alexis nodded her understanding but found, to her surprise, that her first reaction, while mostly glad that there was hope, was also tinged with a bit of apprehension at the thought of one day having to choose between her lands and the Navy. Who would have thought that I’d find such a place in so little time?

  “The opposition’s still there,” her grandfather went on. “Led by that Coalson, damn him to hell if he’s truly at all involved with piracy. But I had a thought —”

  At the counter, Julia cleared her throat loudly.

  “Well, and it was Julia that suggested it. There’re not the votes to pass a change, you see, but I think that’s more from fear of the Coalsons and their like than real opposition. But there’d be, I think, enough support to put it on a ballot for a vote.”

  Alexis furrowed her brow, not understanding. “But won’t that just set the change up for defeat? If there isn’t enough support to pass it, why have the vote?”

  Denholm smiled. “Once it’s on the ballot, it’s public — and people start to talking about it. Wives and daughters and the like — they may not hold the vote themselves, but they hold those who do.”

  There was a meaty thunk from the kitchen counter as Julia sank a cleaver into a fresh pork loin. “Show those that vote they’ve aught to fear more than Daviel Coalson and his ilk.”

  * * *

  “And what do we have for afters, Gillian?” Caruthers asked the gunroom steward as he cleared away the last of the dinner dishes and refilled everyone’s wine. “Not more rice, I hope.”

  “Oh no, sir,” Gillian answered. He set fresh plates before each of them and then went to the pantry and retrieved one of the cheesecakes Julia had sent aboard. “Mister Carew’s brought you some’at better than that. Or so I assume, sir,” he added quickly, adjusting the slices to hide that one was missing already. Alexis gave him a quick grin and a wink to forgive the expected pilfering.

  “Hah!” Ames exclaimed, eyeing the platter, thick slices of cheesecake topped with fresh strawberries from the holding’s growhouse and drizzled with chocolate. “Now that’s a princely contribution to the table, that is.”

  “There are cakes and pastry in the pantry as well, gentlemen, which I hope you’ll make free with before they go stale,” Alexis told the others. She said nothing of the three other cheesecakes Julia had sent, which she’d asked Gillian to have distributed with the crew’s dinner.

  “Roland will be sorry he’s missed this,” Philip said, scooping up a large forkful.

  Caruthers smiled. “Mister Roland will be quite too busy to miss anything this next fortnight, if he’s to get our prize to Zariah Station without incident.”

  Captain Grantham had, indeed, sent Roland to command the captured smuggler as they made their way to the station.

  “But isn’t he just to follow in Merlin’s path, sir?” Alexis asked.

  “Not as easy as it sounds, Mister Carew. He’ll be expected to maintain station on Merlin and keep his own log and navigation charts of the journey. Captain Grantham will be watching his position and reviewing the logs and plots once we arrive.” He regarded Philip and Alexis levelly. “Something the two of you would do well to keep in mind, should you ever be granted command of a prize.”

  “Aye sir,” they answered.

  “And what will happen with the prize when we arrive at Zariah Station, sir?” Alexis asked. “The crew seems very excited by the prospect.”

  “Ha!” Ames said. “They always are. And’ll be despondent before we’ve left port, no doubt.”

  “Yes,” Caruthers said. He narrowed his eyes at Alexis and Philip. “The first time bringing a prize to port for both of you, so heed what I have to say. The Prize Court will take months or more to release a decision on the ship and contents. If they determine it’s a valid prize, and there’s no reason to think they won’t, then we’ll all receive shares.” He raised a hand at their expressions. “It’ll not be much — I’d expect no more than three thousand pounds for the ship and cargo. Likely they’ll find some reason to discount it more and the award will be closer to two thousand.

  “You two will split an eighth of that with the junior warrants, petty officers and their mates, as well as serge
ant of marines and the surgeon’s mates. You should expect no more than twenty pounds as your share and that some months from now.

  “There’ll be Prize Certificates for your shares issued as soon as we turn her over. Do not,” he told them, “fall prey to the prize agents offering advances. The crew will, and they’ll sign over their future awards for whatever cash in hand they can get. Some sharp will offer you five or six pounds for your share — I advise you to be patient.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Alexis closed her eyes and sank back into the tub of hot water with a sigh and a smile. It certainly wasn’t perfect — what the bathhouse on Zariah Station lacked in quantity, it made up for in expense. She’d paid two full shillings for a short-bath, a shallow tub filled with barely enough water to cover a grown man’s legs, but it was hot, clean and all for her. She bent at the waist and used a bucket to pour water over her head, then she shampooed it twice before laying back to relax and soak.

  Or at least baste, she thought, idly splashing the shallow water over herself.

  When the water cooled, she dried herself and dressed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail before settling her beret atop her head. Visiting the station was an opportunity to wear her full uniform, rather than the jumpsuit she usually wore aboard or on a working party. She shrugged her shoulders to settle the uniform jacket about her and opened the closure at her shoulder to pull back the top and expose the cream colored lining against the Navy blue of the jacket.

  Acker had done a fine job of altering both the jacket and trousers. They fit well and she looked quite the thing, she thought.

  She checked the time on her tablet and hurried out of the bathhouse to meet Philip.

  * * *

  “In here for a moment, Alexis,” Philip said, motioning toward a nearby pub. “I, ah, just need to use the head.”

  “You should have gone before we left the ship,” she answered, teasing, then took a closer look at the establishment. Like most of the merchants and dining or drinking establishments along the station’s main corridor, it had a double-size sliding hatchway as an entrance and tall, wide windows flanking it. These windows, though, showed little of the inside, being darkly painted and covered with advertisements for a variety of different beers. Alexis was quite familiar with the port and other towns on Dalthus, and this place reminded her of the working-man’s pubs she knew her grandfather and other landowners, or even their foremen, wouldn’t be welcome in. Not that they’d be accosted or bothered, never that, but the sort of place where men who worked hard for a living went to relax without the presence of those they worked for. She assumed spacers would be much the same and didn’t think two junior midshipmen would find much welcome there.

 

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