Adrift (Dawson's Star Book 1)

by J. P. Larson

  “So I was a bit groggy and wiped out before dinner, but a little food and some time, and I’m more awake. And I need to get better. I won’t do that sitting around.”

  “I’ll remove your bandages before you climb in the tub. A good soaking will do all of you good.”

  * * *

 

 

 

  “Wait. How did it go?”

  “I said ‘hello’ and handed them your note. They were all very polite. They looked upset when I told them ‘no guns, no exposed weapons, and only small knives’. There’s a woman in the group, and she gave them all a look. Alex, it took one of them several minutes to transfer all his guns and stuff to a duffel bag!”

  “Small woman? Dark hair? Scar across her cheek?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Alex smiled. “Gina Leider. I can’t wait to meet her again. God, I miss her.”

  Pamela didn’t look happy. “You two have… history?”

  “I’ll say!” Then he looked at his wife. “Oh, Pamela. Not like that. She was my commanding officer for a while! She’s a captain in the navy.”

  “What’s she doing here, then? She’s going to take orders from me?”

  “Oh. Her title is captain. She’s never had her own ship. She does other things. And I suspect she’s here for the same reason all of us are. A walkabout.”

  “A walkabout?”

  “Yep. Random Walk currently has no significant outside threats. So the navy encourages us to take extended leaves of absence. Do some civilian stuff for a while. See more of the world. Get more experience. It’s a lot cheaper that way than to do it themselves. We have a bit of retraining when we get back, but it’s worth it, both to us and to the navy. Happy officers are productive officers. Experienced officers are creative officers.”

  “That makes sense, I guess.”

  “The guy with all the toys?” Pamela nodded. “Medium height, big arms, short hair with big ears?” Pamela nodded. “Did you notice if he left the sword behind?”

  “He had a few knives. But no swords. I think I would have noticed.”

  “Jimbo Banner. It’s not really a sword. But he keeps this long knife in a body holster. It’s sits right at the base of his neck between his shoulder blades. You wouldn’t have seen it if he didn’t give it up. No one knows how he can wear it while sitting down, but he says it feels like a second skin to him. Wears it to bed, even. Loaded up, the guy’s got thirty kilos of metal hanging off him, I swear. I can’t figure out how he can still move, but he’s actually quite graceful. Good man in a fight.”

  “You miss these people, don’t you, Alex?” Pamela looked very sad.

  “Pamela, I served with Gina for two years. I trained with Jimbo. Knowing my father, I probably trained or served with most of the people he found for you. Yes, I miss them. And I miss my parents. I miss the Pride. I miss my mother’s cooking. But I’m here with you, not asking you to send me home.”

  “Well, you’ll see them tomorrow. They’re in the guest house. On the way here, I told them your situation. I’ll leave you to say anything else that they need to know about you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have to interview them all, you know. I won’t have anyone on my ship I don’t approve of, regardless of your father’s ability to choose people.”

  “Will you let me be there? To settle any cultural differences before they get out of hand?”

  “Anyone who looks at you before answering my questions is going to annoy me.”

  “Thank you, Pamela. Come to bed?”

  Pamela smiled at him. “But I moved back upstairs. Don’t you remember? You haven’t even bothered to make up with me yet.”

  Alex sputtered, and Pamela laughed, then slipped out of her clothes. “Roll over and I’ll scratch your back while you fall asleep.”

  He rolled over, Pamela climbed into bed next to him, then began gently scratching his back. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” he told her. “I’m a bit wired.”

 

  * * *

  He woke with light streaming in the windows. Rolling over, he saw Pamela was awake, looking at him.

  “You’re lovely in the mornings,” he told her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Pamela? Last night, when you put me to sleep?” She nodded. “I’m not upset exactly.”

  “I’ll ask next time.”

  “Thank you.”

  They cuddled for a few minutes, then started to climb out of bed and got dressed. “Dinner isn’t usually for another hour, Alex.”

  “Good. I have time to go meet the Walkers.”

  “I’ll go with you and invite them to join us for breakfast.”

  “Pamela, I’ll roll myself over. I’ll extend your invitation for you. I can talk to them before breakfast, and you can talk with each of them afterwards.”

  “I will push you over, invite them for breakfast, then leave. One of them will push you back. You will not get out of your chair where you might be seen. And Ms. Anders will wrap your hand again.”

  “No. I can keep the hand underneath a blanket while outside.”

  Alex hobbled to his wheelchair and sat down. He set his cane next to his leg, and Pamela arranged blankets around him, hiding the cane and covering his hands and arms. Then she wheeled him out the door, down the hall, and out the back of the house. They turned right, followed the path that led past his window, and headed towards the guest house. Pamela wheeled Alex to the front door. They did the little dance of opening the door and rolling the wheelchair through, and found themselves in the foyer of a very nice home.

  No one was in sight.

  “They’re all still sleeping?” Pamela asked.

  “Not a chance,” replied Alex. “All right you slugs! Front and Center!”

  There was a clattering from all over the house, and the room quickly filled. New arrivals greeted Alex, and he shook hands with everyone who came in.

  “You look terrible, Commander,” someone said amidst a round of agreement.

  “Wait ‘til you see me walk. Anyone laughs, and my wife will have their ears. Won’t you, Captain?”

  “Why would I want their ears, Mr. Grey? I’ve seen you walk, after all.”

 

  Patricia looked around, her eyes settling on a large man hovering in the back. “Mr. Banner. Come here.” The man looked startled, but walked around his shipmates and came to attention in front of her. Pamela walked around him, then patted the middle of his back between the shoulder blades.

  “Aw, Commander. You tattled!”

  “Be quiet, Mr. Banner,” Pamela told him. She walked around and stood in front of him. “I want to see it.”

  “It’s not a gun, Captain. It’s not exposed.”

  “Give it to me, Mr. Banner.”

  The man quieted, then reached over his shoulder and drew forth a long knife. He handed the hilt to Pamela. Pamela looked at the knife, then looked back at him.

  “Captain?” came a voice from behind Mr. Banner.

  Pamela stepped to the side so she could see who was speaking. “Yes, Ms. Leider? You have something to say before I send this man home?”

  “Ma’am, that knife is famous. Every officer Jimbo has served with knows he has that knife. The Admiral gave it to him. When someone tells him to leave his weapons behind, he leaves them behind. But it takes specific mention to include his knife.”

  “I understand you’re a captain. Do you rank these men?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

  “Captain, I’m sorry. You said we could carry concealed knives. It didn’t occur to me that wouldn’t include Jimbo’s knife.”

  Pamela stepped back in front of Jimbo. “Admiral Swanson gave you this knife? That’s the admiral Ms. Leider meant?” Jimbo nodded silently. “Why did he give you this knife? It seems li
ke an odd gift.”

  “I lost my old one on a mission, ma’am. It broke. The Admiral promised me this one was stronger.”

  “Lost it on a mission? What kind of mission? Something that got the Admiral’s attention?”

  “Captain, please don’t ask me that.”

  Pamela’s expression hardened even further. Before she could say anything, Alex spoke up. “Pamela. I’m not the only person here who has saved the life of a prime minister.”

  Pamela wheeled on him. Alex spoke again. “I told you, I trained with Jimbo. Or more specifically, I trained Jimbo. You saw how I worked on the Avenger? Jimbo’s faster. Back when I was healthy, he could take me. Every time. You and your mother aren’t the only ones watching over me. Dad is, too.”

  “Captain, I’m sorry,” Jimbo told her. “No one makes me leave my little knife behind. It never occurred to me.”

  Pamela turned around to look at him, then quietly returned his knife. “If my mother sees that, she’s going to have kittens.”

  “No one sees my knife, unless I want ‘em to see it, Captain.” Jimbo returned the knife to its holster, shrugged his shoulders for a second, then looked at Pamela.

  “Does anyone else have any surprises for me? Get ‘em out now.”

  “We’re all carrying, Captain,” said Ms. Leider. “Knives of various sorts. Johnson has a garotte. That’s about it. Small knives, Captain.”

  Pamela looked at the people arrayed before her. “You are all invited to breakfast in the main house.” She checked her watch. “In thirty-five minutes. Please be prompt.” There was a round of aye-ayes, and Pamela turned on her heel.

  After the door closed, Alex looked at them all again. “Gilbert’s out running? How long?”

  “Only about an hour,” Gina told him. “I told him to stay on the grounds and be very polite to anyone he encounters.”

  “Tell me he’s not carrying his favorite toy. Please, Gina, tell me he left it behind.”

  “Your letter said to follow orders. The Captain said no guns. He didn’t want to leave it, but I glared at him.”

  “Thank you. Can you get him back here?”

  Gina pulled out a headset radio and put it on. “Gilbert, where are you?” She paused. “Get back here. On the double.” She pocketed the headset. “He said he was two minutes out. He’ll be here in 30 seconds.”

  “Is there a living room or some chairs or something? We should talk, and I’ll show you a few things. Then we can go have breakfast.”

  One of the guys came around and started pushing Alex into the next room. “I can do this myself, Johnson!”

  “Yes, Commander,” he said, still pushing. “The Admiral told us to take care of you. We’re taking care of you.”

  Alex gave a small scream.

  “Feeling better, Commander?” Gina asked him.

  “No.”

  The front door opened, and a thin, sweaty man burst through the door. He came into the living room and took a look at Alex. “You look terrible, Commander!”

  “We’ve been through that, Gilbert. Johnson, back me up into that corner over there, will you?” Alex pointed to the far corner of the room. Johnson pushed him over and turned the chair around. Alex set the brakes, shrugged out of the blankets, and carefully levered himself up. No one said a word, but Johnson stepped over to grab an arm.

  “Leave off! I can walk!”

  “Sorry, sir.” He stepped back, but tried to shadow Alex as he stepped forward.

  “I can still take you, Johnson. With both your hands tied behind your back and your ankles shackled, but I could take you. Now back off!”

  “Sorry, sir.” He gave Alex some more room. Alex walked slowly across the room, then turned around and walked back towards his chair.

  He looked at Johnson. “I’ll accept help getting in the chair. Otherwise I sometimes trip.” Firmly seated, Alex looked at them.

  “I’m good for about fifty meters. I am getting stronger, but obviously I won’t be doing much leading on this little trip. I hope you weren’t expecting that.

  “Commander, you point us at ‘em, we’ll take care of ‘em for you.”

  “Thanks, Jimbo.”

  “Who are we here to get out?” Gina asked him.

  “My wife and I.” Alex gave them the rundown, then quickly outlined his plan. “We’re running out of time. Look. We’re setting a trap. Pamela and I are the bait. That means I have to look real, real helpless. You think I look bad now, wait until my little performance tonight.” They gave him puzzled looks. “Oh. You’ll be invited to dinner. Civilian formal. Pamela’s mother will probably invite you at breakfast. We’ll go over things over the next couple of weeks. For now, remain very, very polite to every woman you talk to.”

  He paused.

  “Oh, and they can read your minds. Maybe I should have mentioned that.”

  “What?!”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered. It’s considered very rude, so you don’t need to worry about Pamela or her mother peeking. But at dinner tonight -- you are crew members. You are enjoying the party. You are wondering if the stories you’ve heard are true. You’re impressed that everyone has been so polite. If push comes to shove, I work on calculus problems. I find them to be very distracting.”

  “And when we’re rescuing you? How can we do that if our thoughts are laid open?”

  “I’ve got that covered, too. And I expect there to be very few DS women you’ll be going after. They seem to like mercenaries. Now, let’s get me all packaged up and helpless looking, then head for breakfast.”

  He looked at Gilbert. “You have one minute to look presentable. You will not come to my mother-in-law’s table looking like that.” Gilbert ran off, and Alex started adjusting himself in the chair.

  “Johnson, seeing as how you’ve appointed yourself mother, would you finish covering me up?”

  “So, when did you save the Prime Minister?”

  “Three nights ago. Shortly after dinner.”

  “You were at some event, Commander?” Johnson asked him.

  “What? No. I was in her room, apologizing for being a cad at dinner. I didn’t think she was going to accept my apology.”

  “You had dinner with the Prime Minister, then went to her room afterwards? I know who your parents are and all, but how is it you’re spending all this time with the Prime Minister here?”

  “It’s not a big deal, Johnson. You’re about to have breakfast with her.”

  “She’s coming here for breakfast?”

  Gina started laughing. “Johnson, haven’t you figured it out? He married the Prime Minister’s daughter!”

  Reputation

  “Pamela, tell me this is a joke.”

  “It’s a joke, Alex. Now put them on.”

  “Pamela, this isn’t fair. You get to look stunning, and I have to look like a fop.”

  “You think I look stunning?”

  Alex looked at her. She was wearing a black, wool jacket over a rich, blue blouse. Her slacks were also black and tucked into a pair of leather boots. The jacket was short, cut to above her waist. She was wearing her hair up and had applied a tasteful amount of cosmetics.

  “You look beyond stunning. And you want me to dress the part of the court fool.”

  “Alex, I’m sorry. To tell you the truth, I liked what you wore to our wedding. But these are very traditional clothes. Mother says her suspect is going to be here tonight. When she sees you dressed like this, she will assume that we have tamed you. She will look at you and see the traditional DS husband. She will assume the stories she’s heard about you are all overblown. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “You’re smirking at me.”

  “Alex, everyone from Dawson’s Star that sees you tonight is going to think you look very nice. Those that know you either already know our plan or will believe you wore these clothes to please mother and I. And I assume you already explained what was going on to the Walkers. Now, if you make a big deal about this and act all emba
rrassed, they’re going to know. And the story is going to spread. If, however, you go in there proudly, let everyone get a good look at you, then the story is still going to spread. When it gets back home, the difference in the story will be between looking silly because I made you versus looking silly to fool an evil terrorist. It’s your choice.”

  “You’re getting very good at manipulating me, Pamela.”

  “Do you need some help getting dressed?”

  Alex looked at the clothes. “I can figure some of it out, but certainly not all of it.”

  Pamela helped him dressed, then admired him critically. “You do look nice, Alex.” He didn’t say anything, so she kissed him and gave him a squeeze.

  They talked for a few minutes, then there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in, Mother,” Pamela announced. The door opened, and Elizabeth stepped in.

  Alex looked at her. She looked just as stunning as Pamela. Elizabeth closed the door and looked at them.

  “You both look very nice,” she said. She noted Alex’s sullen expression and felt the tension. “Pamela, guests should arrive in the next couple of minutes. I sent Jim over to the Walkers. They’ll get here in about fifteen minutes. Will you greet guests? I want to speak with Alex for a moment, then I’ll be out.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Pamela kissed Alex again, then left to greet the guests. On her way out the door, she turned around and looked at her husband again, smiling dreamily. Then she got serious and closed the door.

  “Alex, I know you’re not happy about these clothes. I assume she had to fight just to get you into them.”

  “It took some persuading.”

  “There’s an argument I’m almost certain she didn’t use that I think you should understand.” Alex looked at her. “Tonight is a very traditional night. It’s your first introduction to society as my daughter’s husband. These are very traditional, very formal clothes. Every young girl dreams of the day her husband will wear these clothes on this night. Every young girl, if you catch my drift.”

  “Liz, you two both get to look great, by your standards or mine.”

  “You do look nice, Alex, by Pamela’s standards. Don’t you think, every once in a great while, you could be nice and be her traditional dream husband? Cheerfully, because you know it will please her when you do so?”