“I don’t know,” I said. And I didn’t want to think about it. Amanda, sensing my mood, changed the subject.
After the meal, in the privacy of his cabin, Captain Tenere nonchalantly served us a glass of wine. I was uneasy about sharing contraband but didn’t want to offend him, so I took a cautious sip. Amanda, less bothered about such niceties, downed hers with enjoyment.
We returned to Portia shortly after. I went immediately to the bridge; Amanda went to the cabin to check on Nate.
During the next two days three more ships of our fleet appeared, and on the third day Challenger Defused, some two hundred fifty thousand kilometers distant. Remarkably close, given the distance traveled. We waited for the remaining vessels amid a flurry of directives from the flagship.
I made myself busy on the bridge, while Amanda occupied herself with Nate. Twice I returned to my cabin to find her in earnest consultation with Alexi. I knew there was something not quite right that the Captain’s wife involved herself with his officers, but after the row we’d had over Philip, I was careful not to let my uneasiness show.
Finally the remainder of the squadron arrived, and one by one we Fused again. Freiheit and Portia remained on station until the others were gone. Then I checked our figures one final time and gave the order to Fuse. As the engines kicked in, our screens went dark.
After the flurry of activity, Fusion was duller than ever. I spent about half my waking time with Nate and Amanda, and the other half on the bridge, though there was little for me to do. I shared watches with the Pilot, with Vax, with the midshipmen.
Derek Carr, whom I’d enlisted as a youngster of sixteen on Hibernia, was by this time a seasoned middy with an air of confidence he wore well on his lean, aristocratic face. He was sensitive to my moods, chatting when I felt sociable, courteously remaining silent when I was not.
Rafe, like any younger middy, approached the bridge with great anxiety, and didn’t dare speak unless spoken to.
I’d known Alexi Tamarov since my first day aboard Hibernia; I could tell he was troubled. Rather than fuss over him, I let it be. I watched the Log closely. The demerits to Philip Tyre tapered off, then increased in a sudden flurry of faultfinding. I knew to a certainty that Mr. Tyre hadn’t earned the demerits; like Derek, he was a competent, seasoned midshipman. Again I wished I hadn’t chosen to bring the boy along; Philip was a lightning rod for the resentment of his seniors.
One afternoon, on the idle bridge, Alexi thrust his hands in and out of his pockets, distracted. Finally he said, “I have something to say to Mr. Tyre, sir, and I’d like you to be present.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes, sir. I told him to come to my cabin after my watch.”
When the watch ended Alexi and I strode in silence to his quarters. Philip Tyre waited anxiously outside with a look of foreboding that deepened at the presence of his Captain.
Inside, Alexi stared at the midshipman until Philip began to knead the edge of his jacket in an agony of anticipation.
Silence.
Abruptly Philip blurted, “Sir, if it’s about last week’s demerits, I’ve worked off three. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to do the others, I’ve been busy with the transpops and—”
“It’s over.”
“Mr. Tamarov?”
Alexi said heavily, “It’s over. I’m done with you.”
Philip looked back and forth between us, biting his lip. “I don’t understand what I’ve done, sir. Please, I’m sorry if—”
“Midshipman, I’ve hated you more than any person I’ve ever known.” Tyre drew in a sharp breath. Alexi continued, “You’ve deserved to be hated, Mr. Tyre. You’ve done hateful things.”
I felt a pang of alarm, not knowing where this was heading. I opened my mouth to intervene.
Alexi added, “And now I’ve done hateful things.” I kept silent. “After what you did to me and the other middies on Hibernia I swore to have vengeance on you, Mr. Tyre, and I have. Oath or no, I can’t do it anymore. Lord God will understand, or He won’t. I set aside my oath. I renounce vengeance.”
The boy’s eyes were riveted on his lieutenant.
“I don’t like you, Philip; I never will. But I’ll leave you alone. Any demerits I issue in future will only be when you’ve truly earned them. I’ll try to learn how to be fair again.”
I stirred. “Alexi, enough said.”
“No, sir, please pardon me. There’s more to be said. Mr. Tyre, for over a year I’ve been as cruel as you were to us, until I can’t stomach what I’ve become. I’ve watched you, even when you thought I was indifferent. I was never indifferent to you, Mr. Tyre. And when we’ve worked together, as we did with the transpops, I’ve found what the Captain said to be true. You are a diligent worker, a willing assistant, a dutiful subordinate. I can find no fault in your work. I commend you in that. I will so note in your next fitness report.” Alexi took a long breath and let it out slowly. “Well, it’s over now. I don’t apologize. I will let you be. You are dismissed.”
Philip Tyre saluted automatically and turned to the hatch. He paused. “Sir—I—”
“Dismissed,” Alexi said woodenly.
“Let him speak.” My tone was gruff.
Tyre swallowed. “On that frightful trip back from Hope Nation—after they made you lieutenant—I thought I’d go insane. Nothing in my life was as awful as the way you treated me. I tried to bear it until we got home, but finally I couldn’t take any more.”
His eyes were fastened on the bulkhead, recalling a private nightmare. “I wrote out a note and put clean clothes on and lay down on my bunk to take the pills I’d stolen from Hibernia’s infirmary, and then I wasn’t brave enough to do it. I lay there, a helpless coward, until it was time to go on watch again. Those months without end ...”
“When we got home, when Admiral Brentley reassigned me to Portia instead of letting me resign, I convinced myself it would get better on a new ship. But it went on, and on ... Four, no, five times I’ve tried to end it with the pills, only each time I didn’t, I don’t know why. Except once when I took three and it wasn’t enough.”
His cheeks were wet as he turned to me. “Captain, I don’t know what I did to make you hate me so, that’s God’s honest truth!”
Alexi stirred angrily but Tyre rushed on. “Captain, you warned me, I know that. I just thought I—I was doing my job. To this day I don’t know what was wrong about the way I treated the midshipmen. But ...” His eyes fell. “You kept telling me it was improper, and Mr. Tamarov despises me, and Mr. Carr ... so I have to believe you. I know something I’ve done is terribly wrong. I don’t really understand it, I think that’s why I tried to kill myself, but I believe you. So, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better. Mr. Tamarov, sir, I ask your pardon. If you can’t forgive me, try to believe that I mean that. I’m sorry for whatever hurt I did you.”
He brought himself to attention, snapped an Academy salute, wheeled, and was gone.
Alexi moaned, “Lord Jesus, what have I done?”
“I did it to both of you,” I said, my tone bitter. “I left you to suffer, then I put you in charge of him. You’re not to blame.” I loathed myself; I had to be alone. “You’ve done right, Alexi. Have peace.” I didn’t know if he heard.
5
WHEN SHE WASN’T HOVERING over Nate, Amanda busied herself arranging classes. As weeks passed into months our little boy grew unconscionably fast. In the privacy of our cabin I would take him on my lap and jiggle him while he sat contentedly exploring the textures of my jacket and shirt. Occasionally, on the bridge, I would find my knee jiggling absently while I chatted with Vax or Pilot Van Peer. But I never brought Nate to the bridge; it was one thing to have my family aboard; quite another to involve them in my official duties.
Occasionally Amanda invited passengers to visit, and once she asked if I would mind her having the officers to afternoon tea. As she was confined to shipboard society for sixteen months, I didn’t feel free to object, though
it made me uncomfortable. I did ask her to hold her party in one of the lounges instead of our cabin. She agreed without comment. All the officers were duly invited; all showed up except Philip Tyre, who sent a polite note indicating he wasn’t feeling well. Amanda wordlessly handed me his note of regret.
I began to look forward to our next Defuse in three weeks, but I knew with growing unease that there was business unattended to. I tried to thrust it out of my mind until the night I found myself tossing sleeplessly for hours; the next morning I went to the wardroom and resolutely knocked at the hatch.
By ship’s custom the midshipmen’s wardroom was private territory; the Captain didn’t enter uninvited, except on inspection.
Derek Carr opened the hatch, came to attention.
“As you were, Mr. Carr.”
He stood down. “Would you care to come in, sir?”
Now I could enter. “Thank you. Er, Mr. Tyre, I was looking for you. I’d like a word.” Philip’s apprehensive look made me even more bitter. “Derek—Mr. Carr—could I trouble you to let me speak privately with Mr. Tyre?”
“Aye aye, sir. Of course, sir.” He scrambled to put on his jacket and tie. “Make yourself at home.” He left quickly.
Philip swallowed. “I meant no disrespect by not coming to your party, sir, I—”
“No.” My tone was blunt. “You were quite right not to attend, after what I said to you.” He colored. I took a deep breath and forced out the words. “Philip, I’ve come to apologize and to withdraw what I said in my cabin.”
“Please, sir,” he blurted. “There’s no need—”
“You will recall,” I said, overriding him, “my admonishing Mr. Tamarov that I will have courtesy among officers. When you were a guest in my cabin my behavior to you was far worse than discourteous.”
“I understand, sir,” he stammered. “I know how you feel—”
“But that’s the point, Philip. I wasn’t only discourteous, I was wrong to feel that way. Your behavior to me has never warranted it, not even when you were abusing the other middies, and in any event that’s long past. You are welcome in my cabin as Amanda’s guest or mine. I have no objection to your holding my son, if you come to visit.”
My cheeks were aflame, but I managed to hold his eye. “This is a personal matter between us, Philip, and I won’t hold it against you no matter how you respond. But I ask you to forgive my foul manners.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, sir. You had every right—”
“None of us ever has that right,” I said with savage force. “Otherwise you had the right to pile demerits on Derek and Alexi until they were sent to the barrel, over and over again. Viciousness and cruelty are never excusable! Never!” My vehemence shook me. I wondered what had caused it.
He looked at me in wonderment. “Is that really what I was doing?” he asked, half aloud. Then he focused again on me. “Thank you for coming.” He hesitated. “I feel out of line saying it, sir, but since you asked me, I forgive you. I’d like not to talk about it anymore, sir. It’s embarrassing to hear you apologize.” He met my eye and smiled weakly.
I felt awkward, not knowing how to leave. Impulsively I put out my hand, and after a second’s hesitation he took it.
Then he seemed reluctant to let go. I gave his hand an extra squeeze before releasing it.
He couldn’t have offered to shake hands, of course. To touch the Captain without permission was a capital offense.
I took my accustomed place on the bridge, reining in my unease. I thought our orders to Defuse seven times instead of twice for nav checks was a waste of propellant. Every time the squadron assembled, each ship had to maneuver to its station in relation to the others.
Our auxiliary thrusters used LH2 and LOX as propellant, manufactured from our stores of water; we had ample power from the fusion engines for such conversion. But a ship could carry just so much water, and it was a long way to Hope Nation.
Further, assembling the squadron over and again was a waste of time; we might wait days on end for all our ships to arrive; the speed of Fusion varied with minute differences in the design of each ship’s drive and its tubes.
I sighed. I’d chosen a Navy life, and long dreary voyages were part of it. “Vax, sound General Quarters.”
Alarms shrilled throughout the ship as crew and officers hurried to duty stations. All noncritical systems were closed down. The airtight hatches that separated corridor sections slid shut. During General Quarters, passengers were expected to wait in their cabins with hatches sealed; the purser and his mates went through the corridors checking each cabin.
When all was ready I ran my finger down the screen and Defused. I caught my breath as the myriads of stars reappeared on our simulscreens.
“Check for encroachments, Mr. Carr.” Vax was terse, his huge shoulder muscles taut.
“Aye aye, sir.” A moment’s pause. “No encroachments, sir.”
“We’re first again,” I said. “We wait.”
The next to show up, two days later, was Kitty Hawk, under Captain Derghinski. She maneuvered to her station and drifted at rest relative to Portia, waiting as we did for the rest of the squadron. For some reason she had outrun Freiheit, which Defused into normal space a few hours after.
Waiting for the fleet, I’d camped on the bridge for nearly three days with only occasional breaks for rest. When I found myself dozing at my seat I knew it set a bad example for the other officers; reluctantly I trudged back to my cabin, undressed, and collapsed in bed. Though Nate was crying loudly, within moments I was asleep.
Minutes later Amanda shook me awake. I propped myself up, shook my head in a vain effort to clear it. “What now?”
“Sorry, hon. You slept right through the caller. Alexi is paging you to the bridge.”
Panic seized me. “Trouble?” I snatched the caller, thumbed it to the bridge setting. “What’s wrong?”
“Challenger’s arrived, sir. Admiral Tremaine’s been calling you every two minutes.”
I cursed, tugged at my jacket. “I’m on the way.” I staggered to the hatch, adrenaline barely overpowering the fog in my head.
On the bridge the simulscreens were in visual contact with Challenger; Admiral Tremaine’s unfriendly face loomed as I dropped into my seat. “Captain Seafort reporting, sir.”
“Where the hell have you been, Seafort?” Tremaine’s features were contorted with rage. “You were supposed to guard the rendezvous, not lolly gag about in bed! I expect to find you on the bridge, not some infant lieutenant!” Alexi flushed.
“I was asleep, sir,” I said. My head was filled with cotton.
“It’s your aliens we’re watching for, Seafort!” The Admiral’s voice was a snarl. “Keep a proper watch, do you hear? That’s why you were sent ahead in the first place!”
“Aye aye, sir.” It was all I could say.
It didn’t seem to satisfy him. “I warned you: any disobedience and I’d relieve you. I have a good mind to do it now!” At my side, Alexi drew in a breath.
“I’m sorry, sir.” I said no more, though the injustice rankled.
“Don’t be sorry, do your job.” His tone was acid. “I’ll be over to inspect when I’m done with Freiheit.”
“Aye aye, sir.” The connection went dead.
“That ass!” Alexi pounded the console. “He’s so unfair—”
I snarled, “Shut your mouth!”
Alexi stopped in midword.
“Don’t you ever—and I mean ever, Lieutenant—criticize your commanding officer in my presence. Is that understood?” My fists were clenched.
“Aye aye, sir,” said Alexi, his tone meek.
“I wouldn’t expect that remark from a first-year cadet, Mr. Tamarov. We’ll obey the Admiral’s orders without question and without comment.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
I let out an explosive breath. “Very well. I know you meant to sympathize. Thank you for your intentions.” I turned back to the screen. “He’ll be here withi
n the hour. Let’s get as ready as we can.”
Admiral Tremaine and two lieutenants who served as his aides crossed in Challenger’s launch. The Admiral bustled through Portia issuing running commentaries to his aide, who made copious notes. He found fault with the airlock watch crew, wrinkled his nose at the crew berths, glanced in the engine room and found nothing amiss. “To the bridge, Seafort,” was all he said.
I followed a step behind. Vax Holser and Midshipman Rafe Treadwell snapped to attention as we entered; Tremaine didn’t bother to release them. Let’s see your Log.” He snapped it on, flipping through the entries. Vax glanced at me; I kept my face impassive.
“A lot of disciplines for a small ship. Shows a lack of leadership.” I was taken aback; such a comment should have been made privately, if at all. “I see you have a middy who likes trouble. This Tyre: dozens of demerits. Is that one Tyre?” He waved at Rafe Treadwell.
“No, sir. Mr. Tyre is in the comm room. That situation’s under control now.”
“So you say,” he said, glowering. “The trick, Seafort, is to come down hard enough so you don’t have to do it often.”
“Yes, sir.” I wondered how to divert him. “The laser simulations—”
“Don’t try to distract me.” He scowled, and I reddened.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Look.” He drew me close, and for a moment his tone seemed almost pleading. “This is my first squadron, Seafort, and they’ll be watching my Logs like a hawk. Everything has to be right. Everything.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Send him up to be caned.”
I was astounded. “What?”
“You heard me. Teach the middy that we won’t tolerate insubordination. Give him a caning today.”
“But—”
His eyes turned cold. “I see where he gets it from, Seafort.”
There was only one possible response. “Aye aye, sir.”
“Very well. I’ll inspect again after the next Defuse. By then I expect to see a tighter ship.” He beckoned to his aide and stalked from the bridge.
Challenger's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 2) Page 8
