“Well, now that you mention it, the Rodents are probably going to kill me next week unless somebody else does the job first, so I guess I was thinking about squaring things with God, just in case.”
“We prefer to call it ‘reconciliation.”
“Whatever. Do I tell you my sins?”
“Only if you want. Pull up a chair.”
“Don’t I have to kneel in one of those little boxes, with incense? Like in the movies, you know, ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned’?”
Father Yakub chuckled and handed me a cup of coffee. “That went out with high-heeled shoes. You have a seat, I give you a cup of coffee, and we talk. Cream and sugar?”
“Black coffee, please. I must be getting an ulcer—cream upsets my stomach. Father, is this okay? I’m really not a Catholic.”
“It can’t hurt.” Father Yakub extended his index finger in the direction of the ceiling. “The Big Guy or Gal in the Sky doesn’t mind, and I get paid the same either way. Besides, our sister in Christ Catarina says you need all the help you can get.”
We went through everything I could think of, which took a while because I kept reminding Father Yakub of things he did when he was nearly as young and almost as dumb as I was, which kept reminding me of more things to confess. As I wound down, I looked at him critically.
“Is something else troubling you, Ken?” Father Yakub asked, stretching.
I thought for a moment. “I guess this wasn’t quite what I expected.” I thought a little longer. “Since my present occupation involves trying to blow away hordes of invading Rodents who are likely to be in a better state of grace than I am, I expected you to be, well, a little less accepting.”
“Ken, the Church eschews violence and prays earnestly for peace, but the fullness of God’s plan calls for us to demonstrate an acceptance of the things of this world. In short, you get a lot of different opinions within the Church about the morality of engaging in warfare. If you want total non-violence and a loving repudiation of war, try the Franciscans up the street. Speaking unofficially, give our misguided Rat brethren hell.”
He stroked his chin. “Let’s see, for your penance… how about five Hail Marys, five Our Fathers, five hours of community service sometime next week if you get out of this alive. Let’s see, we’ve got faith covered, we’ve got love, what about charity?... Okay, sometime in the next week or so, slip a wink to some homely girl. That should cover the bases.” He winked. “Catarina said that there was hope for you yet.”
He traced out the sign of the cross. “I absolve thee...”
Father Yakub was my kind of priest.
When I got back, Bunkie grabbed my arm. “Sir, you’re just in time. Do you know Lieutenant Commander Stemm?”
“He’s the one who came in on the mailship. Why?”
She moved her head in the direction of Hiro’s office. “He’s here. I’m setting up a call to the ship now.” She looked in the direction of Hiro’s office and whispered, “He wants us to surrender. You might want to sit in on this, sir.”
“I think I will. Never a dull moment around here,” I said feebly. I went in and found myself a chair in front of the view-screen.
Bunkie patched us through. Commander Hiro and Catarina appeared, looking grim. Catarina was still wearing coveralls. The skin was stretched taut over her face, and I could see she was tired. She smiled briefly when she recognised me. “Hello, Ken. Where’s Stemm?”
“He’s in Commander Hiro’s office as far as I know. I haven’t seen nun.”
“A little one-upmanship to put us on the screen first,” she commented. “Stick around, Ken. You have as much right to be here as anyone.”
Stemm strode in a few seconds later and casually took a seat. He was tall and blond with a hairline moustache. He looked like he stepped off a recruiting poster, and I disliked him on sight.
“Ah, Lieutenant Lindquist, how nice to see you again. Commander Hiro, I recognise. This call is not being recorded.” Then he noticed me. “Who is this other officer? Is he cleared to hear this?”
“This is Ensign MacKay. Of course he’s cleared. He’s cleared for Top Secret and below,” Catarina lied with a perfectly straight face.
“Ah, so this is the infamous Ensign MacKay. Ensign, do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done?”
Catarina elbowed Hiro in the ribs.
Hiro started slightly, then narrowed his gaze on Stemm. “Stemm, can we get on with this? We’re very busy here.”
Stemm coughed. “I regret that I was not here earlier. I was placed under sedation on my arrival. Fortunately, a nurse—Nurse Clarion—noticed that the medication prescribed for me was improper.” He eyed Catarina.
She smiled sweetly and said very, very softly, “Shame they didn’t dose you with strychnine.”
“Commander, did you hear that?” Stemm demanded, jumping up.
“Hear what?” Hiro asked.
“Commander Stemm, calm down. Perhaps you could still use some medical attention,” Catarina said agreeably.
“That won’t work, Lindquist. I had the hospital give me a full medical evaluation,” Stemm snapped, pricked beyond endurance. “I expect to be filing some charges.”
“Pity,” Catarina said without explaining.
“Why don’t we get to the point, Stemm? We’re expecting the Rodents to attack, and we have a lot of work to do,” Hiro said.
“Commander Hiro, that’s just my point. You cannot expect to resist that attack.” Stemm seated himself, recovering his urbane demeanour. He held his hand up. “I questioned your personnel closely upon my arrival.” He peered intently at Hiro. “You have to avoid provoking the Rodents at all costs. The Macdonalds are preparing for war. A defeat here would be absolutely disastrous! If the navy divides its strength to deal with the Rodents, the Macdonalds will attack. That is what is at stake, not this loathsome ball of mud we are on.” Stemm leaned forward. “We have never fought a space war before. If you fight here and lose, the consequences would be incalculable.” Then he leaned back and sneered. “And what do you have to fight with? Two obsolete launchers and a ship that ought to be broken up for scrap, a spacegoing honey barge. I know what orders Captain Crenshaw would give you.”
I resented the crack about a honey barge.
Hiro’s face turned grey. “Am I being ordered to surrender?” he asked woodenly.
Catarina broke in, hardly troubling to conceal her opinion of Stemm. “Do you have these orders in writing?”
“Of course Captain Crenshaw didn’t put them in writing,” Stemm said sarcastically.
“Too bad. Well, Captain Crenshaw’s not here.” She tilted her head to look at Hiro. “Sir, I don’t see that anything’s changed. I can’t imagine Captain Crenshaw expecting us to surrender without putting up a fight.”
Stemm sucked his breath in. “Captain Crenshaw obviously could not foresee that particular eventuality, but you really don’t understand what’s important here, do you? Can you even begin to imagine the magnitude of the harm that you would precipitate by losing a hopeless and completely irrelevant battle here?”
“Unless Lieutenant Commander Stemm has something else in his bag of tricks, I mink we’ve been through all this before, sir,” Catarina said, looking at Hiro.
Hiro nodded. “I am afraid that what you have to say does not alter my decision, Commander. My sense of duty compels me to act as I see fit until I receive orders to the contrary through proper channels.”
I almost started clapping.
“That will be too late! Prince Genghis will be here in a week!”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” Hiro agreed. I saw a smile flicker across Catarina’s face.
Stemm blinked his eyes a few times. “I had not expected to have to use this,” he said reaching into his pocket, “but I have here written instructions from the ambassador on !Plixxi* forbidding you to open fire on any Rodent ship so that you will not sabotage her efforts to resolve this matter through diplomatic means without
any appreciable amount of bloodshed.”
He placed the letter under the overhead camera. The computer automatically slapped the top two-thirds of the document up on a split screen and focused the camera to make the printing legible. “Please read paragraph two,” Stemm suggested.
Since it was my blood that was involved, I got up and peered over Stemm’s shoulder before he realised what I was doing. “Uh, sir, this letter isn’t signed.”
“What? Why isn’t the letter signed, Stemm?” Hiro knitted his brows.
Stemm began looking around the room, although I ‘m not sure what he expected to find. “There wasn’t time for the ambassador to sign it, but the letter expresses the spirit of her instructions—”
“Let me try and understand this,” Catarina interjected. “The ambassador didn’t sign the letter, and you don’t have anything authorising you to sign the letter on her behalf.”
“No, not actually,” Stemm began.
“Look,” I said, “I may just be a dumb reserve ensign, but the last time I checked, the navy’s never lost a war and never started one by surrendering a ship. I don’t know much about the Macdonalds, but I’d like to think we have a better chance of staying out of a war by convincing them that whipping us doesn’t come easy.”
“I’ll second that...” Catarina whispered loud enough to hear.
“I agree,” Hiro said forcefully.
“This is complete madness. You won’t have heard the last of it,” Stemm sputtered. He cocked his head. “Commander Hiro, I have heard an even more disturbing rumour that one of your officers is a vampire. It would be utterly inappropriate to have a vampire aboard a navy vessel.”
Catarina and I looked at Hiro, who coloured slightly. I saw her nostrils flare, and I’m sure Hiro saw it as well.
“Now, see here, Stemm,” Hiro said gently. “There was a game we used to play. We called it ‘count the stripes.’ Now let me see, on your sleeve I see one—two—two and a half stripes. And on my sleeve I see one—two—three stripes. Now it seems to me that the last time I checked that means that when I tell you to get bent, you say ‘yes, sir’ and you get bent. I like that. Get bent, Stemm.”
Stemm stood up stiffly. “I shall report this to Captain Crenshaw at the first opportunity, sir.”
“Lindquist, thank you for your support,” Hiro said heavily. “You too, Ensign Mickey. If you would please excuse me a moment.” Looking older and exhausted, he left his seat.
I looked at Catarina and blew her a kiss. “Wonderful performance.”
“Ken, I’ve been wanting to say a few things to Stemm for a long time. I think that you’re right—as long as we put up a good fight and bloody Genghis’s nose, it doesn’t matter whether we win or not.” She smiled radiantly. “Except, of course, to us.”
I returned her smile as well as I could manage. “And I love you for it. When am I coming up to join you?”
“Actually, we’re coming down to join you. Bunkie showed me this.” She held up a printout covered in elegant, squiggly, illegible script. “A messenger handed it to Bunkie while you were out. It’s an invitation from the mayor of Schenectady for all of our officers to attend an election-eve reception late tonight. Apparently Mayor Feldman works on the principle that if you can’t beat them, join them.”
“You mean we’re going to play dress-up and go to this thing?” I asked.
“Why not? We have to send the shuttle down to pick up Lieutenant Commander Stemm so he can leave with Fast Eddie.” She smirked. “We might as well hobnob with the politicians. Show them that good old navy sangfroid. Like the Duke of Wellington’s ball on the eve of Quatre Bras. The politicians will feel a whole lot better if we come. Besides,” she added, “they’re serving food.”
“Say no more. I’m your man.”
“Also, Commander Hiro’s wife has been here for three years and I’m sure she’d love it. She may not have very much time to spend with her husband over the next few days.”
“I understand,” I said.
“See if Lieutenant Commander Stemm needs any help in getting out of here at the first opportunity, then climb into the mess whites the sheriff’s brother-in-law made you and get Bunkie to trim your hair.”
“Right.”
I found Stemm in Hiro’s office, moodily swivelling Hiro’s chair back and forth. “Sir, is there anything I can do to help you on your way to Brasilia Nuevo with the mailship?”
“No, Ensign,” Stemm said bitterly, staring at the wall. He swivelled some more. “Ensign, how long will it take the mailship to get to Brasilia Nuevo?”
I calculated swiftly. “About a week and a half,” I said, tacking on an extra two or three days for good measure.
Stemm exhaled deeply, his face lined with resignation. “A week and a half with Fast Eddie,” he breathed, and glared at me. “While I watch horse operas in a glorified coffin, you silly idiots will be dragging the navy’s good name into the dirt!”
“Look at the bright side, sir,” I said cheerfully. “If we pull this off, it’ll be the first war that ever came in on time and under budget.”
“My God! And they let people like you wear the uniform and pose as officers? What is the navy coming to?” Stemm held his head in his hands. “You’re dismissed, Ensign.”
I paused by the door. “It’s all right, sir. After the war’s over and everything’s safe, we’ll go back to the way things are usually done.” I shut the door, whistling “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”
An hour later, cleaned up and snugly encased in my mess whites, I bid a fond farewell to Fast Eddie, who had Stemm tucked away in his saddlebags and was ready to ride.
When our data flow stopped, Eddie said piously, “Ken, I’ll be moseying along, now. Best of luck with those ornery varmints.” He paused in his transmission. “You know, I seen all these mines you’re putting in.”
Eddie was programmed to understand about mines.
“Now, I’m almost ashamed of myself for asking this, but you aren’t planning on dry-gulching them Injins, are you? That’s hardly fitting for the boys and gals wearing white hats.”
“Not a chance, Eddie. We’re going to shoot it out fair and square,” I assured him solemnly. “At high noon.”
“Thanks, Ken. I feel better. I always knew you were a straight arrow. Happy trails, then, cowpoke. Tell Wyma Jean to have a pair of big squeezes for me! Until we meet again!”
It occurred to me that Eddie was lucky the missile launchers weren’t hooked up if Wyma Jean was anywhere near the trigger.
Bunkie cut the connection and came over to inspect me. “You’ll do, sir,” she announced. “Have fun at the party.”
I touched the gold braid on my shoulder. “I feel like a lizard ready to shed its skin.”
“Stick to waltzes, sir.” She raised her head. “I hear a car pulling in. That must be Chief Chandrasekhar with Commander and Mrs. Hiro and Lieutenant Lindquist now.”
I stepped outside and put my hat on.
Bunkie followed me out. “One minute, sir.”
I turned around and leaned over so she could adjust the angle.
“Much better.”
“Thank you, Bunkie.”
“Don’t mention it, sir. I’m used to working with reserve officers.”
Catarina gave me a demure look and made room for me in the backseat. Hiro was sitting in the front with his wife next to him. As we pulled away, he turned around to make introductions. “Ensign Mickey, this is my wife, Evangeline. Evangeline, this is Ensign Mickey. He’s a reservist and a little unpolished, but good material for all that.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Evangeline said. She had piled-up hair and one of those iridescent gowns with a feather fringe.
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
The mayor was holding his reception at the Atlantic Hotel by necessity, since it had the only ballroom in town. As Chief Chandrasekhar stopped the car, I saw what looked like two sets of feet poking out of the shrubbery. I got out and turned to Hiro. “Sir, I’m g
oing to be a minute. Why don’t you go on in and I’ll join you.”
“All right, Mickey,” Hiro agreed.
“Sir, I’ll wait here and go in with Ensign MacKay as my escort,” Catarina said.
While Hiro took his wife by the arm and led her in, I went over to see who the feet belonged to. As I might have expected, it turned out to be Harry and Dinky lying side-by-side in the bushes nursing a sick bottle.
“Sshhh!” Harry admonished, holding a finger to his lips. “We smuggled ourselves down on the shuttle. Lieutenant Lindquist doesn’t know we’re here.”
“What are you two doing here?” I asked quietly.
Harry sat up, holding the bottle upright with one hand and Dinky with the other. “Sir, we’re going to disgrace ourselves or die in the attempt!”
“No,” Dinky rejoined, “we came so I could see my kids. Harry’s going to call and lure my wife out of the house while I slip inside.”
“And if your wife finds you?” I asked.
“Then like Harry says, we die in the attempt,” Dinky muttered, swaying slightly.
“What are you doing here!” I asked.
“We talked to the chief before we left. Chief was going to give us a lift as soon as he let you off. We were waiting for him. You’re not going to give us away, are you, sir?”
“Never saw a thing,” I said, walking back toward Catarina.
“Bunkie’ll watch over them,” Catarina said.
“You knew they were coming down, and you let them?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
I paused for a few seconds of soul-searching. “Having met Dinky’s wife, I’d probably be making the phone call for him.”
“Shall we go in?” She extended her arm for me to grasp.
We were late enough to miss the receiving line, so we dropped off our hats and went inside to mingle. I met half a dozen local notables, including the guy who owned Mall World and the president of the bank that was trying to fleece me for everything I owned.
It reminded me of the wedding feast of Cana. The wine they were serving came in jugs, and they were waiting for Jesus to show before they passed out a better vintage.
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