“Meanwhile, society has recognized at last that compulsory education was a resounding failure. Voluntary schooling results in better education, but for fewer people. So, unfortunately, the general populace is less educated than they were two centuries past. Some, like the transpops who infest the lower levels of our cities, have no training at all, and are fit for no work.”
Ibn Saud smiled apologetically in our direction. “Nowhere is our shortage of skilled labor more apparent than in the military forces. The officer classes, selected from the educated, technological minority, are drawn to a life of honor, to the excitement of exploring the galaxy.” I nodded, without thinking.
“But for the most part the Navy, like the U.N.A.F. ground force, is manned—by necessity—from the uneducated underclass. And so we have the anomaly of a great starship, the pinnacle of technology, governed by an authoritarian system not unlike that of the eighteenth century sea navies. We’ve even returned to corporal punishment, at least for young officers. Rigid hierarchies maintain order as we travel to the stars.
“But mankind will be changed by the experience—in what way, we do not know; it will be generations before we learn. Surely the changes are for the better. If we assume Lord God watches over us, as he always has, the rescue of civilization by the fusion drive becomes understandable. If man is marked for further greatness, if we are destined to colonize the galaxy, we have been given the tools. What we make of them, and what they make of us, is up to us.”
Ibn Saud sat to enthusiastic applause. Amanda, as education director, lauded him for his presentation, and thanked the audience for attending. As we dispersed I caught her eye, relishing her quick smile.
That evening at dinner I watched her tease Vax, at the next table. He didn’t seem to mind. At my own table Yorinda Vincente, head of the Passengers’ Council, was discussing council meetings with Johan Spiegel and Mrs. Donhauser. I was bored stiff.
After, freed from watch until the following noon but not yet ready for sleep, I lay in my bunk fully dressed, trying to read. When Vax came in he turned on his holovid, plugging in a shrill slap-nag chip. He ignored my glance of annoyance. Sandy arrived, smiling happily. He had been seated at table with a girl his own age.
Vax, lying on his bunk, asked, “You going to prong her, Wilsky?”
Sandy’s grin vanished. “I don’t want to talk about her.” He sounded almost defiant.
“She’d be good at it. If you don’t ask her, I will.”
I said, “Drop it, Vax.”
“I wasn’t hazing.” Holser was belligerent. “Just making conversation.”
“Lay off.”
Vax subsided, smirking.
Half an hour later I realized I’d been reading the same screen over and again, without remembering a word. I got to my feet. “Come along, Vax.” I went out to the corridor. After a moment he followed. I headed for the ladder.
“Where to?”
I ignored him completely. I took the ladder down to Level 2, giving him a choice of watching me leave or following. He followed. I strode down the corridor to the exercise room, slapped open the hatch. The room was empty.
Vax stood in the hatchway. “What are you doing?”
I took off my jacket and folded it neatly over the exercise horse. I yanked at my tie.
“Seafort—MR. Seafort, what the hell are you doing?” He lounged against the hatchway.
“Come in and shut the hatch. That’s an order.” I took off my shirt and folded it over the jacket. Vax nodded slowly. He shut the hatch behind him. I emptied my pants pockets.
“What’s your problem, MR. Seafort?”
“Better get ready, Vax.”
“For what?”
“We’re about to have it out, once and for all.”
“We have a truce, remember?”
“Not anymore.” I tightened my shoelace.
“Why not?” He still wore his full uniform; he was making no move to get ready.
“I can’t stand you.” I walked right up to him, unafraid, and grabbed his coat. “It’s your uniform, Vax. Do you want it soiled or not?”
Reluctantly, he discarded his jacket. I went into karate position, guard up, on my toes.
Vax backed away, shook his head. “The wardroom shouldn’t be fighting now, Nick. Not with the problems the ship has.”
“I’ll fight. You just stand there.”
“Nick, don’t. Not with the Captain dead.”
I slapped him. He didn’t like that, and brought up his guard. We circled.
“Tell me what you want, Nick, before we fight.” He stepped back, lowered his fists.
“Want?” My voice shook with hatred. “You’re a bully, Holser. You’re brutal. You sneer at the boys. You hurt them.” I kept looking for an opening, my hands up. “I’ve never seen you do anything kind. You’re good at your job, but you’re the meanest person I’ve ever met!”
He surprised me, crying out, “I know!” He thrust his hands in his pockets. “I can’t help it, Nick. That’s how I’ve always been. It’s who I am.”
“Fight me.”
“Why?”
“We’ve got to have it out, Vax. If you win I’ll ask the Captain to beach me for four months. That’ll make you first middy. You’ll have it all your way.” The Captain had authority to suspend my commission for any length of time he chose. I would stop accumulating seniority, and Vax wouldn’t.
“What if you win?”
“I’m in charge. All the way to Detour and back. You know your problem? You think I’m the first middy, and you’re second. You’ve got it wrong.”
“Then tell me what’s right.” He had his guard down again. He didn’t want to fight tonight.
“I’m first middy, and you’re not!” I walked up to him and poked him in the chest, not far below my eye level. “There’s no second midshipman! Just the first and a bunch of others. I can’t help that you weren’t first. You fought it ever since we came on board, Holser, and now I’ve had it. I hate you so much I can’t stand looking at you!”
He spoke quietly. “I know I’m not nice, Nicky. What do you want me to do about it?”
I yelled, “I don’t care! I’m not interested in you. I just want you to obey orders, like the other juniors! You know what that’s worth to me? Getting killed tonight.” I took several breaths. “I’m done talking, you bastard.”
“And if I do what you tell me?”
“What do you think, Vax? After how you’ve treated everyone else?”
“You’ll get even.”
“You’re damn right I will! For everything!”
“Hold off a minute. Please.” I couldn’t understand his reluctance. He could pulverize me. Last time, I’d been lucky.
I went across the room and hoisted myself onto the parallel bar. “You’ve got thirty seconds. Then I’m coming at you.” I began counting under my breath.
He took all thirty of them. I jumped off the bars and came at him, moving fast. He said, “I’ll obey your orders, Mr. Seafort.”
I skidded to a stop. “For how long?”
“As long as you’re my superior officer.” The belligerence was gone from his tone.
“I don’t believe you! There’ll come a time. Let’s have it over with.”
“I give you my word.” Vax looked me in the eye, unflinching.
“Why, Holser?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe now the Captain’s dead, being first middy doesn’t seem so important. Maybe it’s the way Alexi looks at you sometimes, when he thinks you don’t see.” He glared, as if expecting me to mock him. “Do you care about my reasons? I told you I’ll do it, so I will.”
I was helpless. “We’ll see if you mean it. A hundred pushups.”
“Aye aye, Mr. Seafort.” He loosened his tie, dropped to the deck, and began pumping.
Well. It seemed he actually intended to obey orders.
I didn’t let up. I worked him for two hours, until he was drenched with sweat. Then I walked
out of the room without a word.
I ran Vax ragged for a whole month. He got to clean the wardroom, top to bottom. I saddled him with extra duty at all hours. He did as he was told. He was not friendly to me, and his manner was so ominous that the others made it a point to stay out of his way. But he never defied me.
With the loss of the lieutenants we were all on double watches. I was constantly tired; so was everyone else. My free afternoons were with Amanda. I never played chess anymore; it would have been unthinkable with the Captain, and there was no one else with whom I was that close. I was unhappy; we all were.
Captain Malstrom was unhappy too, though he tried not to let it show. It affected all of us. I had frightening dreams. Alexi turned to his slap music for comfort. Sandy held hands with his new young friend.
In the wardroom, I took it out on Vax. I gave him all the hazing he had ever forced the others to endure, and more. I ordered him in and out of bed all night adjusting the heat. I stood him at attention in the wardroom when he wanted to relax in his bunk. At night I would put him under an ice-cold shower for half an hour at a time. Afterward in the dark I could hear his teeth chatter as he lay trying to warm himself.
He never protested. He obeyed my orders. Slowly, I came to realize that Vax was a person who did what he promised. I began to respect him for that, but I didn’t let up. He had a lot coming.
Ship’s routine settled into the dreary monotony of Fusion. Amanda helped the passengers put on plays and arrange contests. The Pilot and Chief Engineer drilled us in our studies. The Captain ordered the barrel moved to the Chief’s engine room, but it wasn’t put to use. On our time off, I devoted my attention to Vax. I confined him to quarters except when he was on duty or taking exercise. But he remained docile and carried out my orders to the letter.
One evening when Sandy and Alexi went below I put Vax at attention in the center of the wardroom. I let him stand there for an hour while I read my holovid. Then I said quietly, “Do you want me to let up, Vax?”
He took a long time to think about it. Finally he said, “Yes, Mr. Seafort, I do.”
I sent him to his bunk to lie down. He lay propped on one elbow listening. “I expect you to be an officer and a gentleman. Especially a gentleman. I expect you to act in the wardroom’s best interest and in mine. To be pleasant to all of us. To lay off hazing except by my direct order. To mind your own business, and nobody else’s. To support me in my duties. When you’re prepared to do every one of those things, Holser, then I’ll let up. Not before.” I let him think about that. I went back to my holovid.
A half hour later he spoke up. “I’m prepared, Mr. Seafort.”
“What’s that?” I hadn’t expected a capitulation.
“I’m prepared. To do all the things you said.” I knew he meant it. Holser was true to his word. I could count on it.
I nodded. “Very well.”
When Alexi and Sandy came back I lined all three of them against the partition. “What went on in the wardroom before is over,” I said. “You’re to forget it or ignore it. From now on you will act in a spirit of friendly cooperation. There will be no hazing, no discipline unless I dispense it. You will each shake hands with each other, and with me, to establish the attitude in which we’ll carry out our duties henceforth. That is all.” We shook hands all around. The wardroom was mine.
7
TWO NIGHTS LATER, AMANDA and I made love for the first time. She was not my first woman, but she was almost my first. We gently and lovingly practiced the arts I knew, and I learned from her skills I had not known.
I was astonished at how much I needed her closeness. I thought I’d learned to do without tenderness, touching, caring, at least while on ship. I couldn’t go away from her, our first night. I stayed in her cabin, cupped around her warm and pleasing body, drinking her intimacy like wine. In the morning we kissed and parted, both shy from our newfound vulnerability.
I went about my duties in a daze, thinking more of my times off watch than my responsibilities on, until even the Pilot became aware and made a wondering remark. I snapped my attention back to my job. It would be a long, slow voyage. There was time for everything.
A few days later I came back from a cozy evening in Amanda’s cabin and was peeling off my jacket when Captain Malstrom’s voice burst from the wardroom caller. “Mr. Seafort, Mr. Holser, to the bridge! Flank!” Vax and I exchanged startled glances. We sprinted to the ladder.
The Captain waited impatiently in the bridge hatchway. “Hurry!” He shoved us inside and slapped the control. The hatch snapped shut. “There’s a battle in crew berth three. Chief Petty Officer’s been hit on the head. I don’t know how many are in the riot, or what it’s about.”
I gaped. The Captain paid no heed. “Mr. Holser, go to berths one and two and seal the hatches. Confine all seamen to quarters. Nick, meet the master-at-arms at the munitions locker. Stun guns and gas. Make sure the seamen with him are reliable before you open the locker. Stop the fighting. Separate the men, brig the rioters. Take these!” He snapped open the bridge safe and handed me a laser pistol and the locker keys. “I’ll hold the bridge. Move!” He slapped open the hatch.
“Aye aye, sir!” We left on the double. Vax ran down the ladder to berths one and two while I headed forward to the armament locker.
I found the master-at-arms looming over two nervous seamen, a billy clenched in his hands. He was grim. “These two will do,” he said.
“Names?”
The first sailor stepped forward. “Gunner’s Mate Edwards, sir.” She saluted. The other said, “Machinist’s Mate Tsai Ting, sir.” They both came to attention.
“At ease.” I opened the locker. Master-at-arms Vishinsky’s choices were dependable; I would stake my life on it. In his outrage he’d have but one goal: to restore order and get his hands on the miscreants.
I grabbed four sleek stun guns and handed them around. I snatched a handful of gas grenades, thrust them at Ms. Edwards. The locker safely shut, I loped toward the ladder, the others at my heels. I charged down to Level 2, ran around the ladder well, and dived down toward the lowest level. At Level 3 I dashed along the gray-walled corridor toward the crew berths. Around the bend, a crowd of seamen milled outside a hatchway, pushing and shoving for a better view.
“Stand to, all of you!” My voice was pitched higher than I’d have liked. “Attention!” A few in the back realized an officer was present and stiffened. Vishinsky waded in, billy club jabbing, stunner ready in his left hand. In moments he had the throng separated, lining the bulkheads to either side.
I gabbled, “Edwards, draw your weapon! You sailors, stand at attention! Ting, Edwards, stun any man who moves!” I swung back and forth, calmed slightly as I realized the situation in the corridor was under control.
From inside the berth, shouts and the sounds of riot.
“Let’s go!” I charged at the hatch.
Mr. Vishinsky hauled me back, nearly hurling me to the deck. “Easy, sir.” For a moment his eye held mine. He cautiously poked his head into the hatch, stunner ready. After peering both directions, he stepped through.
I followed, abashed. Inside, about a dozen seamen were slugging it out. Chief Petty Officer Terrill lay across a bunk, blood oozing from his scalp. Other sailors lay on the deck, out of combat. Chairs, bunks, duffels were strewn in wild disarray. The air smelled of sweat and close confinement.
Vishinsky took a deep breath. “NOW HEAR THIS! STAND TO, EVERY ONE OF YOU!” His roar filled the room. Its sheer force brought a momentary lull in the melee. “DROP YOUR HANDS, YOU LOW-LIFE CRUDS! STAND AT ATTENTION!” I wanted to cover my ears. He was impressive.
Most of the combatants began to disengage. They looked about, as if dazed, and brought themselves to attention. I covered them with my stunner. Four men ignored the master-at-arms, continued to hammer each other.
Coolly, Vishinsky stepped up to the first pair and pressed his stunner to one fighter’s back. His finger twitched. The seaman dropped like a
stone. His sparring partner aimed a wild swing at the master-at-arms. Vishinsky fired again. His assailant fell backward across a bunk, toppled to the deck.
I watched openmouthed as Vishinsky sauntered to the last two combatants. He pressed his gun to one man’s shoulder and fired. The sailor went down. His opponent backed away, raising his hands high as he sucked at air in ragged gasps. Vishinsky motioned him to stand with the others. As the man turned to go, the Master kicked him in the behind. The sailor staggered.
A thud, from the corridor. I looked out. A seaman was stretched on the deck, unconscious. “He moved, sir.” Edwards swallowed.
“Very well.” I spoke as calmly as I could. Now what? Not sure what else to do, I ordered all the sailors to the outer side of the corridor and bade them sit on the deck, hands on their knees. “Keep your stunner on them, Edwards.” I sent Ting inside the berth to cover the remaining seamen.
I dialed the bridge from the caller on the bulkhead. “Mr. Seafort reporting, sir. The riot is over. We’ll need the Doctor for a few of them. At least a dozen were fighting.”
“What in the Lord’s name started it?” I heard the relief in Captain Malstrom’s voice.
“I don’t know yet, sir.”
“I’ll send Chief McAndrews to help sort it out. Stand easy.”
When the Chief arrived, he unsealed crew berth one and picked six reliable seamen. He’d brought cuffs and leg irons; within a few minutes I was able to collect the stunners and grenades and run them up to the arms locker. When I got back to the crew berth, the Chief and the master-at-arms were sorting through the mess on the deck, tossing belongings aside as they went.
Mr. Vishinsky took an opportunity to maneuver me to one side. “Sorry my arm got tangled in your jacket,” he said quietly.
“Thanks, Mr. Vishinsky. You saved me from getting clubbed to death.”
“No problem.” A good man, the master-at-arms. There was a time to belay regs, and he knew when.
Midshipman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 1) Page 8
