Challenger's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 2)

by David Feintuch

  “A cold drink would be really nice,” said Amanda, an edge to her voice.

  “Later. You’re right, Mr. Dakko; the crowded accommodations are inexcusable. Six to a cabin? Imagine! Fortunately I have a solution. The transients need to experience your knowledge and cultivation. By sharing cabins with you they’ll become more civilized. I’ll work out more equitable cabin assignments as soon as possible. Come, Amanda, we’ll find those drinks now.” I nodded politely at their stunned and gaping faces.

  “Damn it, Nicky,” said Amanda, a few steps away.

  “I couldn’t help it.”

  “Yes, you could! So they were obnoxious; did you have to make enemies of them?”

  “I’d rather have them as enemies than friends.”

  Her eyes teared. “But I wouldn’t. You have your officers and your bridge. All I have is people like them, and the trannies!”

  “Oh, hon, I’m sorry. I forget.” I offered a hug.

  A giggle broke through her cross expression. “You won’t really do it, Nicky? The look on Walter’s face when you suggested sharing his cabin with a transpop ...”

  “I should,” I grumbled.

  “Please, Nick, they’re all influential. If word got back to Admiralty ...”

  I sighed. Of course she was right. My authority was unlimited; I could assign cabins as I chose. But I had Admiralty to reckon with on my return, and they would take a dim view of my evicting our elite for a swarm of streeters. Still I savored the idea for a time before reluctantly setting it aside.

  I held drills and exercises to keep the crew alert. They helped keep me alert as well; I’d begun to find confinement in Portia stifling. She was a small ship, much smaller than any I’d sailed before. There were few passengers whose company I enjoyed, and most of them weren’t enthused with me either.

  After it became evident that I wasn’t going to carry out my threat to change passengers’ cabins, I was grudgingly readmitted into society, but my main avenue of interchange with the passengers—dinner at the Captain’s table—had been lost when I reassigned seating so the officers could dine with the transpop youths.

  That too grew tiresome. I settled into an uneasy truce with the youngsters at my table. I’d made them fully aware of my power by denying them their meals until they behaved—probably a violation of regs, if the rules applied to involuntary underage passengers—and they weren’t ready to test me further as yet. Still, their cooperation was minimal at best.

  Annie, whom I’d mistaken for a boy during the corridor riot, was now unmistakably feminine. Perhaps the sustained nutrition was helping develop her figure. Certainly the hairdo she appeared in one afternoon, to the jeers of her young male associates, also contributed. She had no idea of her age but was assumed to be roughly seventeen.

  One day, I came into my cabin and stopped short. Sitting over a holovid on the breakfast table were Amanda and Eddie Boss. Eddie lurched to his feet as I entered.

  “No makin’ trouble, Cap’n. Lady she say allri’ beinhere. She say.”

  I was careful how I spoke, remembering too well my scene with Philip Tyre. “I understand, Eddie. It’s all right. Sit down.”

  “Don’ wan’ stay. Gotta find Deke. Wanna go.” He edged nervously toward the door.

  “Thank you for coming, Eddie,” Amanda said. “Let’s do more tomorrow.”

  “Gotta go.” The hatch closed behind him.

  I raised an eyebrow. “He seems afraid of me.”

  She giggled. “I’d say terrified, under that big hulking exterior.”

  “Because I put him in the brig for two weeks?”

  “I don’t know, Nicky. I can’t imagine why anyone would be afraid of you.”

  I studied her suspiciously for signs of mockery. “Anyway, what was he doing?”

  “He wants to learn to read. Nicky, he actually came to me! Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Why not put him in the puter-assisted literacy course?”

  She made a face. “It didn’t work out. He tried to smash the screen the first time it buzzed his answer as wrong. He needs ... human encouragement.”

  “He’s too dangerous. You shouldn’t be around him.”

  “I don’t think so. He really wants to learn.”

  Her mind was made up; no use pursuing it. “Well, must you teach him here? Wouldn’t a lounge do as well?” At least there’d be others about, in case of hostilities.

  “Oh, Nick, we tried that two days ago. Some boys came in and made fun of him, and he stomped off. It took all my persuasion to get him back.”

  I swore under my breath. “Aren’t those streeters cruel? They don’t even want to see one of their own get ahead.”

  “Streeters? It was Gregor and the Dakko boy, Chris.” She saw my expression and hurried on, “They weren’t causing real trouble, hon. You know what happens when they and the transients run across each other.”

  “Yes. First we cram these poor joes six in a cabin, and then they have to put up with abuse from those spoiled ...” I took a deep breath. “Very well, I’ll deal with it.”

  “Hon, don’t make a fuss about it. The passengers are upset enough about the transients.”

  “I’ll deal with it,” I repeated. I spent the evening wondering how.

  The next afternoon I called Purser Li to the bridge. “I want some changes in seat assignments,” I told him. “Put Gregor Attani at my table, and assign Chris Dakko to table four with Lieutenant Holser. Effective tonight.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” He hesitated. “If they object, sir?”

  “I don’t believe regs require passengers to eat dinner,” I said. “If they choose to eat, that’s where they’ll sit.” He saluted and left.

  When Vax arrived for his watch I was already on the bridge, wondering how long it would be before I heard from Mrs. Attani. Vax took his seat, looking uncomfortable. For a while he fidgeted. Then, to his console, “There was a hell of a row in the wardroom last night.”

  I said nothing. Naval fiction was that the Captain didn’t concern himself with wardroom affairs. Nor was it customary for a lieutenant to bring them to the Captain’s attention. It must be an unusual problem to have worried Vax.

  “Philip and Derek Carr had it out,” he added, still speaking to the screen. “In the exercise room. They beat each other nearly unconscious. Mr. Singh opened the hatch and thought for a moment they were lovers; they were lying almost on top of each other. He found me and brought me there.”

  I remained silent. Vax said, “I got them cleaned up and back to the wardroom.” He stole a glance at me, reddened. I wondered if he recalled our own desperate fight aboard Hibernia. Well, I hadn’t won. I had only managed not to lose.

  I sighed. I wasn’t supposed to interfere, but Vax was an old friend and if I couldn’t discuss it with him, with whom could I talk? The obvious answer came unbidden: nobody.

  My role was to be the awesome, isolated figure at the top. I could ask questions, give decisions, but it wasn’t proper to talk things over with old friends. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have their absolute, unquestioning obedience when it was needed.

  I managed to keep my silence. Vax looked puzzled, then hurt, and his eyes shifted back to his screen. Of course I couldn’t explain; a Captain didn’t do that either.

  Thank Lord God for Amanda and Nate; without them I didn’t know how I’d stay sane.

  That evening the dining, hall flickered with currents of tension. Derek’s face was bruised; Philip Tyre bore a black eye and a cut lip. Of course, in the time-honored Naval tradition I affected not to notice, just as Captain Dengal hadn’t noticed my own puffy face aboard Helsinki the night Arvan Hager, my senior, taught me a memorable lesson.

  Chris Dakko attempted to go to his usual place at his family’s table and stalked from the hall when he was refused. Gregor Attani sat next to me, glowering, in what once would have been considered a place of honor. Eddie and Deke made incomprehensible jokes and nudged each other in the ribs.

  “Why do this to
me?” Gregor asked between courses. His tone was sullen.

  “What, Gregor?”

  “Making me eat with these tranni—these animals,” he amended, at my glare.

  “You’re no better than they are, Mr. Attani.”

  “No?” he sneered. “Look!” True, their table manners still left something to be desired, though they tried as best they could to conform to my strange requirements.

  “No,” I said. “You’re more educated, more cultured, but no better at all.” I pictured Eddie fumbling with a holo in the passengers’ lounge, anxious to learn. My temper shredded. “No more remarks, Gregor, or you’ll take breakfast and lunch with us as well.” That silenced him. Amanda took pity and chatted casually with him, until even she was rebuffed by his surly monosyllables.

  After dinner I returned to the bridge. I wished I’d asked Vax one question: did the fight settle it? I brooded, and finally decided I had to ask outright. I picked up the caller, then slammed it down in its place.

  “Easy, Captain, sir. They break.” Danny’s voice. I looked up sharply.

  “Sorry,” I said, regretting my temper, then felt foolish. What was I doing apologizing to a puter?

  “What’re you so mad about, Captain?”

  “Never mind.” I was curt.

  “Aye aye, sir.” He sounded hurt.

  I sighed. Perhaps he was the answer. I couldn’t talk to the passengers or my officers; why not Danny?

  “The middies had a fight in the wardroom,” I said.

  “They do that all the time, don’t they? Darla told me about a zarky one you had on her ship.”

  Were there no secrets? “This time it’s a touchy situation. Last voyage Philip—Mr. Tyre to you—was unfit to run the wardroom and Derek took over. Gave Philip quite a beating in the process. Now Philip has some of his confidence back and wants to be in charge. After all, he’s senior.”

  “Then the fight settled it. Did Philip—er, Mr. Tyre to me—win?”

  “No insolence,” I growled. I wondered how old Danny was, then realized I was being silly. He wasn’t alive. Was he? “I don’t know who won. I don’t think either did.”

  “Then they’ll do it again until it’s settled.” He seemed unconcerned.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t allow that. I liked Derek too much. Yet, Philip had earned his chance. I realized grudgingly that I’d begun to like him too.

  I took the caller and keyed the wardroom. “Mr. Tyre and Mr. Carr to the bridge.”

  “They’re not here, sir.” Rafe Treadwell sounded scared.

  “Very well.” I put down the caller and hesitated only a minute before grabbing the caller again. “Lieutenant Holser to the bridge!” In a few moments Vax arrived, breathing heavily. “Take the watch, Lieutenant.” I left.

  I hurried past the wardroom to the Level 1 exercise room. An “Out of Service” sign hung on the hatch. I turned the handle; it was locked from the inside. I pounded. “Open up in there! Now!”

  The hatch opened. I pushed past Philip Tyre, whose torn undershirt rose and fell as he, took in great gasps of air. A line of blood trickled from his mouth. Derek stood across the room, fists clenched, waiting, one arm pressed against his side. The two midshipmen had folded their dress shirts, jackets, and ties neatly on the parallel bar.

  “Enough,” I snapped. “Get dressed! Come with me!” I waited impatiently for them to don their shirts and knot their ties. When they were presentable I led them down the corridor to the deserted dining hall. I pulled up a chair at the nearest table and sat in the dim light.

  I thrust out two chairs. “Sit, both of you!”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Derek sat composedly, leaning back to favor his left side. Philip perched on the edge of his seat.

  I glared at them. It had no effect. I slammed my hand on the table so hard they both jumped. My palm stung like fire. “The wardroom is supposed to settle its own affairs,” I growled.

  “We were trying to, sir.” Philip Tyre sounded aggrieved.

  “And the Captain isn’t supposed to notice.” I slapped the table again, this time more carefully. “How the devil am I supposed to ignore you, when you involve half the ship in your squabbles? You beat each other half to death, Lieutenant Holser is summoned, and then you march into dinner flaunting your battle scars!” That wasn’t fair, but I was too angry to care.

  They exchanged glances but neither spoke. Watching them I realized I’d get nowhere confronting them together. “Mr. Tyre, wait outside until I call you.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” The boy wheeled and strode out to the corridor.

  I got to my feet. “Damn it, Derek, is this necessary?”

  He raised his eyes to meet mine. “I’ll obey whatever orders you give, sir,” he said without emotion.

  I suppressed my urge to lash out, and thought instead of our companionable shore leave in the Venturas. “Will you give in to him, Derek?” My voice was gentle.

  “Are you ordering it, sir?”

  “No.” I couldn’t do that. Not inside the wardroom.

  “Then no, sir, I won’t.” His smile was bitter. “I’m sorry, sir, I know you want me to, but I won’t do it voluntarily. Not after last cruise.”

  “What if he’s changed?”

  “Sir ...” He colored. “I’ve swallowed my pride for you, no matter how much it hurt. I’ve tried to do whatever you’ve asked of me. I can do that for you. But not for him.”

  “And if I command it?”

  “Then I’ll submit to his orders, because you require it of me.”

  “I can’t have you trying to kill each other, Derek.”

  “No, sir, I understand that.”

  “Is there any other way you could settle it?”

  “You taught me the traditions, sir. Is there?”

  I tried to think of a way. Reluctantly, I shook my head. “None that I know of. Unless I remove one of you from the wardroom.” I sighed. Damn his pride. Yet I knew I would love him less without it. “Wait outside, Mr. Carr. Send in Mr. Tyre.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Philip came to attention as he entered the room.

  “As you were, Mr. Tyre.”

  He chose the at-ease position. I searched for the right words. “You are first midshipman, Mr. Tyre, I understand that. But Derek’s been in charge for over a year now. Why must you change that?”

  “Because I’m first midshipman, Captain Seafort.” His tension was almost palpable.

  “Can you give it up, Philip?”

  “Can I? I don’t know if I can, sir. I won’t, though.” His resolve shocked me.

  “If I order you to let him remain in charge?”

  “I’ll have to obey your order, sir. But please, let me resign from the Service first.”

  I sat heavily. “Be seated, Philip.” He took the chair next to me. I noticed he was trembling. “Why now?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know exactly why, sir. He hasn’t been any different lately. He’s fair to Mr. Treadwell and he mostly leaves me alone, though he despises me. I just ... it’s time, sir,” he blurted. “Pardon me, I know I’m out of line, but you had no business taking me along with you.”

  My jaw dropped. He hurried on, “I should have been beached. A middy who can’t even hold the wardroom ... You gave me a second chance, sir. I want to use it. I went all wrong the first time; maybe now I won’t.” He stared at the deck. “I don’t know why it has to be now, sir, but it does. Maybe Mrs. Seafort had something to do with it. What she’s been saying.”

  I was startled. “What was that?”

  “About trying to be the best I could no matter how hard it was, sir. You know.”

  “Yes.” I let it be. Amanda never ceased to amaze me.

  I went slowly to the hatch and opened it. Derek waited some distance down the corridor. “Come in, Mr. Carr.”

  I eyed them both. “You’re evenly matched. I don’t know whether either of you can subdue the other. I don’t want you to hurt yourselves or each other trying
. Tradition says you have a right to do it. Will you stop, for me?”

  Derek said tightly, “I will obey every lawful order Mr. Tyre gives me, sir. Outside the wardroom.” He refused to meet my eye.

  Philip shook his head. “When Mr. Carr acknowledges that I am first midshipman, sir. In the wardroom and out. Not before.”

  I was defeated. “I won’t order you to stop. You have to resolve it. But I do order you to delay. Do nothing for a week, until you’ve both thought it through.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Derek looked grim.

  “Aye aye, sir,” said Philip. “Um, who’s in charge in the meantime, sir?”

  “Out, both of you!” I shouted. They scurried away. I paced the empty hall until I was calm enough to go back to my cabin.

  6

  “BRIDGE TO ENGINE ROOM, PREPARE to Defuse.”

  “Prepare to Defuse, aye aye, sir.” Chief Hendricks’s voice was devoid of all inflection. After a pause he confirmed, “Engine room ready for Defuse, sir. Control passed to bridge.”

  “Very well.” My finger traced a line from “Full” to “Off” on my console. The light of millions of stars leapt forth from the simulscreens.

  “Confirm clear of encroachments, Lieutenant.” My voice had an edge. But Vax was already punching figures into the console, anticipating my order.

  “No encroachments, sir,” he said at last.

  “Very well. Have the crew stand down.”

  Vax gave the order. I leaned back and rocked, my eyes shut. I wondered how long it would be before Derghinski showed up; he would almost certainly be the first.

  We spent the next two days drifting alone, waiting for our squadron. Derek Carr shared a watch with me and seemed ill at ease; at the end of watch he saluted and mumbled, “May I say something before I go?”

  I nodded.

  “About Mr. Tyre, sir—it’s not that I want the power, or that I won’t obey orders. It’s because of what he did.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I never thought otherwise. You’re dismissed.”

  I brooded in my seat while Alexi and Rafe Treadwell settled in for their watch, then left abruptly for my cabin. Amanda sat in near dark, rocking Nate gently. “I think he’s finally out,” she whispered. I checked. He was breathing with the swift regularity of sleep.