The Little Ships (Alexis Carew Book 3)

by J. A. Sutherland

  “As you can see, gentlemen, I’ve brought Artley a suit … a proper suit, he can use until we reach Nouvelle Paris and he can avail himself of your generosity.” She looked down at Artley. “Mister Artley, I’d admire it did you meet me at the sail locker immediately after breakfast.”

  “What, sir?”

  Alexis sighed.

  “I’ll see he’s there, sir,” Champlin said.

  “Thank you.”

  Alexis made her way back to the gunroom’s hatch, then paused and bent to retrieve the wet towel from the deck. She turned back to look at Trigg, who flushed and swallowed hard. The other midshipmen shifted nervously and Alexis wondered if she hadn’t missed out on something after all, something important, in being promoted so quickly and after serving on only two ships.

  The other lieutenants spoke with great fondness of friends they’d made as midshipmen. For Alexis’ part, she could count only one of those she’d served with as truly a friend, and the count of those she’d relish never meeting again, the midshipmen of Hermione, was quite a bit higher.

  She kept her face still and stared at Trigg for a three-count before throwing the towel and catching him full in the face.

  “As you were, gentlemen,” she said as she left and slid the hatch shut.

  Chapter 13

  Artley joined Alexis at the sail locker hatch carrying his new vacsuit. Alexis had donned hers already and waited while he put his on. Then they entered the lock.

  “What are we doing, sir?”

  “I thought we should have another talk,” Alexis said. She sealed her helmet, as did Artley, and she cycled the lock.

  The crew was still at their breakfast and Shrewsbury was sailing easy. The captain wouldn’t be ordering any course or sail changes until after they’d eaten, unless some sort of emergency came up.

  Alexis often went out onto the hull at this time. Much like the middle watch, it had a quiet, peaceful feel to it that she enjoyed.

  Once on the hull, she made her way down the bow to the ship’s keel. She looked behind her once to make sure Artley was following and that he’d clipped on a safety line to the guidewires that ran along the hull. She’d read more of Artley’s record the night before and noted that he’d spent very little time Outside, whether in darkspace or normal-space. Lieutenant Slawson, the second lieutenant, who was nominally in charge of the midshipmen had even made a note that Artley didn’t join the others in skylarking amongst the rigging in his off-time.

  Shrewsbury’s keelboard was extended, as she was sailing close-hauled to the wind. It was a thin, telescoping plane that ran the length of the keel and, at the moment, extended over twenty meters from the hull. As the keelboard contained no gallenium, it caught in the morass of dark matter that made up darkspace, causing drag that allowed Shrewsbury to offset the force of the winds and sail against them.

  Alexis pulled herself along the guidewire until she reached Shrewsbury’s stern, then stopped and waited for Artley to catch up.

  When he arrived, she grasped his shoulder and touched her helmet to his. The suit radios were useless outside the hull in darkspace, as the dark energy radiations made all electronics inoperable. That also made it the most private way to speak aboard ship, which was why Alexis had brought him here. Artley’d had enough of his business butted about the ship.

  “I like to come back here of a morning.” Alexis gestured past the stern and the ship’s massive rudders. “Are you quite recovered from your vacsuit fitting this morning?”

  Artley laughed, his voice echoing oddly as it was transmitted from his helmet to hers. “Yes, sir. It was a mess to get all the tape off, but we managed.”

  Alexis nodded, though he couldn’t see her. She was glad that Artley had taken it well and it seemed to have been a good-natured venture. Especially with the other midshipmen having done a whip-around to raise the funds for a new vacsuit.

  “I thought it was quite kind of them to put together that much coin for me,” Artley said, echoing her own thoughts. He seemed to be on the verge of saying more so Alexis waited him out. “I talked with Walborn and Champlin quite a bit last night, sir. Pulford and Adley joined us for a time, but mostly Walborn and Champlin.” He paused again. “I believe I had a bit too much to drink.”

  Alexis bit her lip to keep from laughing. Artley might be young yet, but a midshipman’s berth would teach one to drink, if nothing else.

  “Was it a good talk?”

  “Yes … what I remember of it, I suppose.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’ve made a good start, with the gunroom at least.” She tried to keep amusement out of her voice. “We’ve a fine set of lads aboard Shrewsbury. You’ll find staunch, sturdy friends there.”

  Artley was quiet for a time and Alexis again waited him out.

  “I’ll likely never have my Da’s shop, will I? That’s what they think.”

  Alexis considered her answer. She didn’t want to give the boy false hope, but neither did she want to quash it entirely. He’d have options, after all, though they’d be a difficult road.

  “It’s not entirely out of the question, Mister Artley, but things do appear that way.”

  “I never wanted to do anything else … certainly not the Navy.”

  “I never wanted to join the Navy myself,” Alexis said.

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. All I’d ever hoped for was to inherit my family’s lands and go on as he has, taking care of the land and the people.”

  “And now you don’t want to do that anymore?”

  “Sometimes yes and sometimes no, Mister Artley … there’s something to be said for the Navy.” She gestured off the stern of the ship. “What do you see out there?”

  Artley was silent for a moment, then, “The Dark?”

  Alexis smiled. She looked off into the distance. Yes, the Dark — full of its roiling clouds of black that seemed to be fighting some battle. Flashes that weren’t light, but were somehow blacker than the Dark itself. She wasn’t sure how to put her feelings into words for Artley.

  “How many people are there on your home world, Artley?”

  “Nine billion, I think.”

  Alexis raised an eyebrow. She’d known Shrewsbury and her crew had come from the Core Worlds and what that meant, but the figure was still astounding to her. What must a single planet with nine billion people on it be like? Would there be any space left at all? Dalthus had not a fraction of that number, even if one included those still indentured.

  “How many of them, do you suppose, have ever been off the planet? Out of atmosphere?” She thought of her first time stepping through the outer hatch on HMS Merlin, her first ship. “How many have seen their own sun except filtered through air? Or seen the stars from behind a planet, where that sun’s light doesn’t dim them?”

  She gestured off the stern again.

  “And that out there’s an even rarer sight. You’ve joined a select few, Mister Artley, to look out on the Dark. Even the rich toffs who buy passage between systems and never leave their sealed ships haven’t seen it. Just us spacers.”

  “The men are afraid of the Dark,” Artley said.

  “And should be,” Alexis agreed. “It’s harsh and unforgiving, both the Dark itself and life as a spacer, especially the Navy’s version — but there, again, you’ve joined a select few, you know. The Navy’s all that stands between the Fringe Worlds and the pirates who’d prey upon them. In this war we stand between Hanover and all of New London.”

  “Like a wall, sir?”

  “Aye, very like a wall. New London’s worlds — Fringe and Core, both — are filled with farmers and merchants and families all going about their business. Mister Eades has told me some of what Hanover’s done to worlds it wanted … I’d not have that happen to my world nor yours, not if I can help to stop it.”

  “I suppose it would be grand to be in some heroic action. Like the ones they strike medals for.”

  Alexis could almost hear him grinning.


  “Or to be made captain … or admiral even,” Artley went on. “Wouldn’t that show him?”

  Alexis smiled tolerantly. She could tell the ‘him’ Artley was speaking of would be the stepfather who’d sent him off.

  “My Da’d be proud of me for that,” Artley finished.

  Alexis gripped his shoulder.

  “I’m sure your Da would be proud of you regardless, Mister Artley. Live a good life and be happy in what you do, that’s what my grandfather always told me would make my parents proud.”

  Artley was silent for a moment. “What about you, sir? Wouldn’t you like to be an admiral someday and have a great cabin all to yourself like that Mister Eades is in?”

  Alexis laughed. “Oh, can you see that, Mister Artley? All meter and a half of me dressed up in an admiral’s uniform and covered with gilt and medals? The hat itself would be half my size. No, I doubt I’ll ever be so grand as that.” She gazed off into the Dark, watching the clouds roil against each other. “Though I should like to be made commander one day, I think, and have a ship of my own. Not a 74 like Shrewsbury nor even a frigate, but a ship of my own and a willing crew. I think there may be no grander thing.”

  Chapter 14

  Shrewsbury crossed into French Republic space without incident. They met a pair of French frigates escorting a convoy of their own shortly past the border and received word that Hanover had still made no move to include the Republic in their latest war, though the French had made it clear they were not entirely neutral and no Hanoverese warships would be permitted in French space.

  Though they still kept a vigilant watch, the news lessened the anxiety Alexis and Shrewsbury’s other officers felt. The convoy itself began splitting up, with one or two merchant vessels leaving for their destinations each day. By the time they neared the French capital system there was only Shrewsbury, the two French frigates, two merchantmen, and the captured Hanoverese frigate left in the group.

  Alexis was with Eades when they arrived at Nouvelle Paris. He looked up as the ship’s speakers rang with the call for all hands to prepare to take in sail as they approached the Lagrangian point that would allow them to transition from darkspace into the system.

  “Have you ever been to a Core world, Miss Carew?”

  Alexis stifled a sigh. He well knew she hadn’t, as he’d pointed it out to her often enough in chastising her lack of proper knowledge and behavior. “I have not.”

  “Well, let’s to the quarterdeck, then. That great circle thing in the middle will have the best views from outside the ship and you’ll want to see our approach, I’m sure.”

  “The navigation plot, you mean?” Surely he didn’t mean to push his way onto the quarterdeck and stand around the plot? Captain Euell would surely have the deck for their entry into the system and he wouldn’t want his passengers cluttering the place up. “I’m not sure if that’s wise —”

  Courtemanche slid the hatch to his sleeping quarters open and peered out.

  “This sound, does it mean we are arrived?”

  “It does,” Eades said, rising. “Come, Carew.”

  “Ah!” Courtemanche said. “I have been too long from home. I must see.”

  “Mister Eades,” Alexis tried to protest, but the other two were already at the hatch and she had no choice but to obey Eades’ come-along gesture. “Mister Eades, Monsieur Courtemanche, it is not customary for passengers to enter the quarterdeck, especially during transitions. The captain —”

  Eades made a dismissive sound and waved her objections away. “Captain Euell has been tasked with providing this mission every assistance and accommodation. Surely a bit of space around his precious table is not too much to ask.”

  “It’s a navigation plot, not a bloody table,” Alexis muttered, but followed along behind the two.

  They made their way to Shrewsbury’s quarterdeck. The marine stationed there looked uncertain as they approached and Alexis hung back. Perhaps he’d stop them and she didn’t want her presence to make him assume they had permission to enter. But Eades and Courtemanche had so often taken advantage of Shrewsbury’s hospitality that even the marine was unsure of whether they could come and go as they pleased. He took the middle road of sliding the hatch open and announcing them before they’d fully arrived.

  “Misters Eades an’ Cortmunch, sir,” he called through the hatch.

  Alexis heard a muttered oath followed by Euell’s resigned, “Oh, very well, let them by.”

  She followed the other two onto the quarterdeck and gave Euell as apologetic a look as she could muster.

  Eades and Courtemanche went immediately to the navigation plot, but Alexis held back. Eades motioned to her.

  “Come, Carew, you’ll want to see this.”

  Alexis looked to Euell, who nodded.

  At first, Alexis was unsure of what she was seeing. The navigation plot was displaying images from all around the ship, but the space ahead of them was full of lights, not just the swirling black of darkspace. Alexis frowned. There were so many of them. She’d known a Core World would be larger than any she’d seen, but she hadn’t expected there to be this much shipping visible in darkspace. Then she frowned further as the scale struck her. Some of the lights were so small that they couldn’t possibly be ships — unless they were, but then what would the larger be?

  “Les Étoiles de Paris,” Courtemanche said proudly.

  “‘The Stars of Paris’?”

  “Twelve planets, seventeen moons,” Courtemanche said with a smile. “One hundreds and forty-five points of transition. Each protected by the guns of les Étoiles de Paris. The most massive installation in darkspace.”

  “You’ve built forts in darkspace at every Lagrangian point?” Alexis couldn’t even begin to ponder the cost. Each of the forts appeared to be three or even four times larger than a ship of the line and it wasn’t even just one of them at each Lagrangian point. Some points had three or even four of the installations around them, with guns pointing in all directions.

  “New London’s fortifications have more guns,” Nesbit whispered in Alexis’ ear.

  “The guns of les Étoiles may be less numerous, but they are larger,” Courtemanche said, having heard.

  “Compensating,” Nesbit whispered.

  Alexis covered her mouth with her hand as Courtemanche flushed.

  “Lieutenant Nesbit,” Euell warned, but Alexis thought his face held a suppressed smile of his own.

  * * *

  The rest of their arrival stunned Alexis as much as the darkspace forts of the system had. She, along with Eades and Courtemanche, stayed on the quarterdeck, despite the hours-long approach under conventional drive. The space around Nouvelle Paris teemed with ships. A steady stream of them sailed to the planet’s L4 point for transition to normal space, streamed under conventional drive to the planet, and then from there to the L5 point and back to darkspace. To Alexis, used to much less traveled systems, it appeared as though space itself was crisscrossed with busy thoroughfares.

  Normal space at the Lagrangian point contained several permanent structures as well. More fortifications surrounded the transition point, so that any ship that made it past the darkspace forts would face additional guns immediately after it transitioned. Alexis marveled at the extent of the fortifications.

  So many. The expense of that much gallenium for the darkspace forts alone … and then the crews to man them.

  For Alexis, coming from Dalthus where the population was still less than a million, worlds like Zariah and Penduli, where there were single cities with that many people, had been a shock. Her first glimpse of Nouvelle Paris left her speechless.

  As Shrewsbury’s course took her outside the planet’s orbit to turn and close with the traffic patterns, the night side of the planet came into view.

  “It’s like a jewel.”

  It was only when she noticed Courtemanche beaming at her that she realized she’d spoken aloud, but even the realization that she’d likely just given Eades more a
mmunition for his colonial pig farmer taunts couldn’t dampen her wonder.

  Without the system’s sun to dampen it, the planet glowed like another star. Lights covered its surface in a delicate, lovely lattice, like luminescent lace.

  More than that, though, she now noticed the size of some of the ships, far larger than any she’d seen before and larger than she thought was possible. She edged over to the tactical console and looked over the shoulder of the spacer manning it.

  “What is that ship there, Carpenter?” she whispered.

  The spacer ran fingers over the console to magnify the ship and display information about its class. “Intrasystem cruiser,” he said.

  Alexis read the ship’s stats with wide eyes. Larger by far than any ship she’d ever seen, too large to ever transition and travel in darkspace, for the sail area to move that much mass would be impossible to manage. But its size and armaments would make it quite useful for its purpose — defending the system against invasion by the smaller ships that could travel the Dark.

  So many guns … and directly powered, rather than having to load shot protected from darkspace. She read on. And missiles … yes, I suppose that would be no problem at all with a developed star system to resupply in whenever you like, instead of having to worry about space in the hold for months on end.

  And it wasn’t just the one, she saw. There were several of the cruisers around the system, and some ships even larger.

  How would one ever be able to attack a system defended like this?

  “If you’re quite through gawking, Miss Carew,” Eades called from the quarterdeck hatch, “I suggest we prepare to debark.”

  Alexis noted the reactions of Shrewsbury’s officers and crew on the quarterdeck. All of them, from the helmsman to Captain Euell himself, had stiffened at Eades’ words — whether at the affront to her personally or the disrespect he showed her rank and, therefore, the Navy at large. She wondered if the man sought to antagonize others intentionally — much as she disliked him, she had to admit he seemed far too perceptive to be blind to the effect of his words. Regardless, the entire ship was at his disposal and Euell’s orders were to provide Eades with “the utmost in assistance and accommodation”. Those orders applied to her as well.