Challenger's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 2)

by David Feintuch

  “Aye aye, sir. I’ll prepare for mutual docking maneuver.”

  “Negative. Match our present position and course. Flank.” Odd. If Challenger wanted a fast mating with Portia, she would meet us halfway in mutual docking maneuvers.

  I turned to Vax but he was already calculating our course, as was Pilot Van Peer. I bent to join them, then gave up the effort. The Pilot was a specialist, and on board for just such a purpose.

  “Pilot, you have the conn.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Fingers flying over the console, he brought up our position and course. “Port thrusters, two bursts.”

  “Two bursts, aye aye.” The engine room. Swiftly the Pilot swung us into position to use the powerful rear thrusters to maximum benefit. In moments we were gliding toward Challenger under continuous acceleration.

  “Any other encroachments?” I knew the question was unnecessary. If there were, the alarms would have sounded and Danny of our officers would long since have reported them.

  “No, sir.” Vax’s shoulders were knotted with tension, his eyes riveted on the screen. The bridge was silent as we swept forward toward the distant dot that was Challenger.

  Admiral Tremaine’s face loomed on the screen. “Where the hell have you been, you bloody coward?” His voice was tight.

  Vax hissed.

  I stammered, “On station at the last rendezvous, sir, as you orde—”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Position two five one, declination twenty-five, approaching, sir.”

  “Come alongside immediately, do you understand?”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “You’d better!” The connection broke. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Vax made as if to speak; I shook my head.

  “He sounded upset,” offered Danny.

  I snapped, “We’re at Battle Stations. No personal remarks, D 20471.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” The puter sounded chastened. I bit my lip. We had absolutely nothing to do but wait until we were in position, and Danny’s remark had been harmless. My nerves were taut.

  I glanced at my watch, realized it was already midafternoon. I sent Philip Tyre to the galley for cold sandwiches. When he returned we sat munching them at our consoles, alert for encroachments as we approached the flagship. If the Admiral was in such a hurry to join ranks, why hadn’t he met us halfway?

  Eventually I left for my cabin, but found I couldn’t sleep. After a long fruitless struggle I returned to the bridge.

  The speaker came to life. “Approach port side bow on, Seafort!” The Admiral.

  “Aye aye, sir.” Pilot Van Peer was already making adjustments to our course.

  “Disable your starboard side lasers, acknowledge!”

  “What?” It burst out of me unbidden.

  “Obey orders, you insubordinate young bastard!” Tremaine’s voice rang through my bridge.

  “Aye aye, sir, orders’ acknowledged and understood!” Numbly I keyed shut the laser activation release. There was no way to disable the starboard side lasers alone; our entire ship was disarmed. “Lasers disabled and inactive, sir!” In the face of his inexplicable hostility, I yearned to retreat again to my cabin.

  None on the bridge dared speak to me. A half hour later we’d matched velocities, and were soon drifting at rest relative to Challenger, off her port side. The speaker blared anew. “I’m coming over! Meet me at the aft lock, personally!”

  I roused myself. “We’ve had an alien virus on board, sir. We’re all inoculated, but you haven’t—”

  “I’ll be suited. Prepare two hundred doses of the vaccine at once.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” I could say nothing else. My mind fogged with confusion, I sat waiting for the Admiral’s visit, and its consequences. “Philip, switch stations with Mr. Carr in the comm room.” Perhaps it wouldn’t help, but at least Philip’s presence wouldn’t remind the Admiral of his past troubles.

  “Aye aye, sir.” The young midshipman hurried out. A moment later Derek Carr took his place at the console.

  I left the bridge and trudged down the ladder to the aft lock, wondering what had so enraged Admiral Tremaine. I had a few moments before Challenger’s gig mated; I detoured to the transpops’ section. A number of the rowdy streeters milled excitedly in the passage.

  I beckoned a seaman from his post at the section hatchway. “Get all of them in their cabins. Keep them there as long as the Admiral’s on board.” Without waiting for a reply I turned back toward the airlock.

  The gig’s lock mated with our airlock suckers and the capture latches engaged. I waited impatiently for the locks to equalize pressure. At last the two outer hatches slid open. The Admiral and two of his officers entered our lock. The lock recycled. A moment later he was in our corridor. I stiffened to attention.

  “You’re at Battle Stations?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay that way,” he snapped. “To the sickbay, Seafort!”

  Still suited, he and the two lieutenants who’d accompanied him followed me up the ladder to our infirmary, where Dr. Bros waited with ampules of vaccine. The Admiral broke the seals on his helmet and twisted it off, then slipped out of his suit. Immediately he bared his arm for the inoculation. When it was done he gave a sigh of relief, then turned on me.

  “Where have you been hiding, Seafort?”

  I tried not to let my resentment show. “I’ve been on station, sir, at the last rendezvous. We lost one day—”

  “Dawdling at the rendezvous to avoid the danger zone!”

  “—after my wife died. I was ill.”

  “Died? From virus?”

  “No, sir.” I groped for a decent answer. “From decompression.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. But it can’t be helped. You had no business skulking back there, Seafort; you should have been here at the rendezvous!”

  I grew hot. “How was I to know that, sir? I followed the orders of the senior Captain present.”

  “And who was that? You have a history of making yourself senior. Was it your own idea?”

  “Captain Derghinski’s orders are recorded in the Log, sir.”

  Tremaine glared at me, then grunted. “Let’s see your Log, Captain.” I led him to the bridge. While my officers stood at attention he flicked through the Log entries. “All right, doesn’t matter. I’m transferring my flag here, Seafort. As of now.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Why, in heaven’s name? Challenger was twice the size of Portia and better armed. If he was after more security, why not a ship of the line, such as Kitty Hawk?

  “I’ll be taking the Captain’s cabin. Come along so we can talk privately.” He turned to Vax and Derek. “All of you, Lieutenant Affad is in charge here while we’re gone. Do exactly as he says.” He wheeled and left the bridge. I followed. Well, I’d be glad to exchange cabins. I could bunk in the lieutenant’s dayroom, or wherever else was available that didn’t remind me of Amanda. I didn’t relish serving directly under the Admiral, but that couldn’t be helped.

  The Admiral shut my cabin hatch, glanced around, frowning.

  “Sir, what’s happened, if I may ask? Where are the others?”

  “Challenger’s disabled.”

  I groped for words. “How—I mean—”

  “We were attacked, Seafort, by those whatever-they-are. While you were malingering in your infirmary! I read your Log. Decompression, my arse. She suicided, and you lied to cover it. What I’d expect from you.”

  His accusation didn’t matter. “Disabled how, sir?”

  “The fusion drive chamber, starboard side. I had you approach to port so you wouldn’t know.” Tremaine sounded smug.

  I said stupidly, “But why hide it, sir?”

  His gaze was one of withering contempt. “So you wouldn’t cut and run before I transferred over. Now it’s too late.”

  “You had no reason to think—”

  “You’ve been nothing but trouble since we left Lunapolis, Commander. Your sloop was a disgrace when I boarded for in
spection, and your conduct has been no better since. You had your orders: get to the rendezvous points ahead of the squadron to guard our way. That’s why you were given the fastest ship!”

  He stopped for breath. “Because of you, Seafort, Challenger’s out of action. How will that look on my record, to have my first flagship disabled?” He ran distracted fingers through thinning hair. “I’ve got to transfer now, thanks to you. If I have a successful mission otherwise, maybe they won’t look too hard at whether Challenger was damaged before or after I left her.” He glared. “Anyway, Hasselbrad was in charge, officially.”

  Could the man care more about his reputation than his ship? I tried not to show my revulsion. “What damage did you sustain, sir?”

  “Our starboard shaft wall melted through. Hydroponics are damaged as well. I’ve got two hundred sixty-two passengers and crew; I’ll move the bulk of them over here. We’ll proceed in Portia.”

  “But our recyclers and hydroponics can’t handle that great a load,” I said, stunned.

  “I know.” His tone was curt. “I can’t take everyone. It’s all set. Captain Hasselbrad is already aboard. He’ll handle it.”

  “He’s on Portia, sir? When—”

  “I made arrangements ahead of time, just in case.” The Admiral glowered with suspicion. “No telling what you’d do. Lieutenant Affad brought Hasselbrad over while I’ve kept you busy. I’m giving him Portia. You’re relieved, Seafort.”

  I sank into the chair, dazed, weary. I recollected my duty. “If there’s anything I can do to help, sir ...”

  “Stay out of the way, damn you! You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  “Aye aye, sir. I’ll take my gear to the dayroom.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” He fixed me with a cold stare. “In the morning you’ll move to Challenger.”

  “What?” I was out of my chair.

  “You heard me. Or you can go with us, under arrest for mutiny. It’s immaterial to me.”

  I stammered, “Wha—what do you expect me to do on Challenger?”

  “Wait for the help we’ll send. That’s all you can do.”

  I struggled to get my bearings. “What about the rest of the fleet, sir? Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.” His manner was testy. “They’ve probably come and gone. We just got here yesterday, and we were attacked almost immediately.”

  That made no sense. “How could you take so long? You were the first to leave the last rendezvous!”

  Tremaine slammed his fist on the table. “No more insolence!” he thundered. “Or I’ll take you to the barrel and cane you in front of the ship’s company!”

  My mind whirled. I didn’t understand what was happening, much less why. “I’ll obey orders, sir,” I said doggedly. “But I need them explained. How could you leave first and arrive last?”

  “We were attacked at the last checkpoint.” He seemed to begrudge me an explanation. “Remember?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Tremaine looked at the bunk as he spoke. “We were under direct attack and in peril. I had us Fuse.”

  I still didn’t follow. “Then you should have arrived well ahead of the squadron, sir.”

  “We hadn’t changed coordinates yet,” he said offhandedly, to the bunk. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter how it—”

  “You Fused without new coordinates?” My tone was unbelieving. “Using the same coordinates you were previously set to?” Even I knew better than that. The Fusion point had to be at least two light-minutes distant or bizarre results could occur. The maneuver was flatly prohibited by regs.

  “It was an emergency,” he growled. “I had no choice.”

  None but to stay and fight, that is. I said nothing.

  “When we Defused we were, er, some distance from the rendezvous. By the time we recalculated and Fused here, the rest of the squadron must have passed through. While we waited one of your damned beasts appeared and lobbed acid at our drive shaft. We fired on it, but it scuttled away and disappeared.”

  A venomous glare. “If that satisfies your curiosity, I have work to do. You’ll remain here until I’m ready to set you aboard Challenger.” He moved to the hatch.

  “Sir, if the rest of the squadron has passed, Portia will be the only ship that knows Challenger is adrift here. If anything happens to you, we’ll never be found.”

  “That chance has to be taken.” He shrugged. “It’s getting late; I have work to do.”

  “Who will you leave on Challenger, sir?”

  “Some passengers. A few of your crew. They won’t be told she’s disabled until they’ve boarded.”

  Lying to the crew? Lord God, how could I face them, after?

  He stood, and I thrust the thought aside for another. “How will you select them, sir?”

  “A difficult choice, but someone has to make it. It’s none of your concern. If you wish, you may take your officers with you.” His tone was magnanimous. “Except for the Doctor.” With that, he was gone.

  Slowly I let myself down into my seat. Challenger, the ship I’d yearned to command, the vessel whose blueprints I’d pored over in Lunapolis, was suddenly mine again, now that she lay disabled and drifting. Did Tremaine fathom the irony?

  Why couldn’t she have been mine while she was whole? I’d fought the fish before; perhaps I could have saved her.

  Lord God, You move in mysterious ways.

  I sighed. If Challenger’s hydroponics were disabled, how long could she survive, nineteen light-years interstellar, and with nothing but her thrusters for propulsion?

  Even if Portia reached safety in Hope Nation, a rescue vessel would have to be dispatched and return all the way to our present location. We’d be on our own for almost two years before help could arrive.

  Well, all that was beside the point. The chances of a rescue ship finding us were minimal. Ships had passed near the wreckage of Celestina for decades before spotting her, adrift in the void. Even now, ships stopping to pay their respects sometimes failed to find her, though her position had been known and recorded for over a hundred years.

  We might drift a lifetime, amid blind and unresponsive stars.

  I could refuse the transfer; court-martial held no terrors for me. Tremaine would most likely have me hanged, and my misery would be over that much sooner.

  I stared bleakly at the grim bulkheads. What right had I to choose easy death by the rope? I was sworn to my duty. Someone had to look after the poor souls left on Challenger. If not me, Tremaine would assign another who prized life more than I.

  I don’t know how many hours I sat, numbed with despair. After a time I roused myself and began mechanically to pack my gear, stuffing clothing into my duffel. When I came across the holos Amanda had made of our vacation in the Venturas on Hope Nation, I cried for a while, then thrust them into the duffel and went on with packing.

  I was folding the last of my shirts when a soft knock came on the hatch. I ignored it. It sounded again. “Who is it?”

  By way of answer the hatch opened; Vax Holser slipped in, grim-faced. He pressed the hatch closed behind him.

  “What do you want?” I went on with my chores.

  His fists knotted. “Tremaine told us. He swore us to secrecy, then told us.”

  “Very well.”

  “We’ve agreed, Alexi and Derek and I. We’re going to relieve him.”

  A chill ran down my spine. I finished folding the shirt and placed it in the duffel. “Stand at attention, Lieutenant,” I said quietly.

  “Sir, this is no time—”

  “Obey my orders, Mr. Holser. I’m your superior officer.” Reluctantly Vax came to attention. “Now.” I circled him. “You will retract that statement. You will give me your oath you will take no part in any such scheme, and then you will leave the cabin.”

  He said simply, “I will not.”

  I faced him, eye to eye. “Recite your oath of allegiance, Mr. Holser.”

  “I know it well enough, Capt—”
/>   I spoke softly. “Do as I command.”

  He squared his shoulders. “I, Vax Stanley Holser, do swear upon my immortal soul to preserve and protect the Charter of the General Assembly of the United Nations, to give loyalty and obedience for the term of my enlistment to the Naval Service of the United Nations and to obey all its lawful orders and regulations, so help me Lord God Almighty.” Eyes front, he stood stiff.

  “What is an oath, Lieutenant?”

  “Sir, I know what you’re trying to tell—”

  I put my hand over his mouth so he couldn’t speak. “What is an oath, Lieutenant?” I removed my hand.

  He bit his lip, shaking his head in negation. Then he sighed, and the words tumbled out of him, directly from the Naval Regulations and Code of Conduct, Revision of 2087. “ ‘An oath is a commitment of the soul, given directly to Lord God Almighty and to the person by whose requirement the oath is given, that the commitment subscribed to will be fulfilled. It is the bond of a gentleman and an officer. Beyond an oath, no surety need or may be asked of any officer.’ ”

  My tone was harsh. “Admiral Tremaine is your commander. You have sworn on your soul to give him loyalty and obedience and to obey all lawful orders. Do so, Vax. That’s my order as well.”

  He shook his head stubbornly. “Not that order. He has no right to give it.”

  “Oh?” I asked curiously. “In what way is it unlawful?”

  “He’s condemning you to—to—”

  “Death, perhaps. As I have condemned others. What makes it unlawful?”

  He gaped. “But—” Slowly his jaw closed. He crashed his fist on the table. “He can’t be allowed to get away with it!”

  “He must be allowed to get away with it, if our service has any value.”

  “Not if he’s insane!”

  “I don’t think he’s insane, Vax. Badly frightened, perhaps. But not insane.”

  “I can judge for myself!”

  “Not dishonestly!” Then I added, “Vax, have I meant anything to you? Have I taught you anything?” His eyes glistened. “Don’t betray me, Vax,” I said. “Live as I would have you live. Don’t do otherwise in my name.”