I became a hermit, refusing to leave my cabin except for brief excursions to the bridge. I had the Chief cross my name off the watch roster. My look was such that no one dared speak to me. I took meals in my cabin, refusing even to take my evening meal in the dining hall with the passengers. I pretended to myself I was sick, that I felt feverish. I lay in my bunk imagining that I was safe, in Father’s house.
In the quietest hours of the second night I had a dream. Again I was a boy, walking toward the Academy gates. My duffel was very heavy, so heavy I could hardly carry it. I had to say something to Father, but I couldn’t speak. He walked along beside me, dour and uncommunicative as always. Yet he was there with me, was that not enough proof he loved me?
I changed the duffel to my other arm so I could put my hand in his. Father switched to my other side. I switched the duffel back, but he stepped around me once more. I prepared the words of parting I would offer. I rehearsed them over and again until they sounded right.
The gates loomed closer. Now we were at the broad open walk in front of the Academy entrance. The sentry stood impassive guard. I turned, knowing it was time to say goodbye. Father put his hands firmly on my shoulders and turned me toward the waiting gates. He propelled me forward.
In a daze I walked though the gates, feeling an iron ring close itself around my neck as I did so. I turned. Father was striding away. I willed him to turn to me. I waved to his back. Never looking over his shoulder, he disappeared over the rise. The iron ring was heavy around my neck.
I awoke, shaking. Eventually my breathing fell silent. I smelled the acrid sweat on my undershirt; I stripped off my clothes and walked unsteadily to my shower to stand under the hot water a long while, motionless.
When I finally dared go back to bed I slept untroubled. In the morning I ate the breakfast Ricky brought, and left my cabin to become a human being once more.
14
“EXCUSE ME, SIR, A question.”
“What is it, Vax?” We were on watch. In the long silence, I’d been trying to empty my mind of everything, to think of nothing. I was not succeeding.
“One of the passengers, Mr. Carr, asked if I would show him Academy’s exercise drills this afternoon. I thought I ought to have your permission first.”
I could see no reason to refuse. “If you want to, Vax, I have no objection.” I smiled. “Are you about to become a drill sergeant?”
“No, sir. I thought I’d do them with him.” I should have guessed.
Time passed. Still I made no decision about the prisoners.
The next day Yorinda Vincente asked to see me. I assented. I didn’t want her on the bridge or in my cabin, so I met her in the passengers’ lounge.
“This is on behalf of the Passengers’ Council.” Her tone was stiff. “We want to know what will happen to the ship, I mean the crew, when we get to Hope Nation.”
“You’re asking if Hibernia will get a new Captain?”
“And other officers, yes.”
“Most of you will disembark at Hope Nation, Ms. Vincente. How does it concern you?”
“Some of us are booked to Detour, Captain Seafort. Other plans would have to be made.” She meant that they wouldn’t want to stay on the ship if I were going to sail her. I understood. I wouldn’t want to stay on the ship if I were going to sail her.
“Hibernia is under orders from Admiralty at Lunapolis,” I explained. “My authority as Captain derives from those orders. Admiralty has a representative, Admiral Johanson, at Hope Nation. When I report, he will relieve me of command, appoint a commissioned Captain, and assign lieutenants to the ship.”
“Are there experienced officers at Hope Nation?”
“More experienced than I, Ms. Vincente. And even if there weren’t, the Admiral is my superior officer. I’m sure he’ll relieve me and appoint a Captain of his choosing. Hibernia will be in good hands when she leaves Hope Nation.”
She explored all the possibilities. “I imagine skilled officers aren’t sitting around Hope Nation waiting to be posted. What will he do if he doesn’t have enough lieutenants?”
“It’s unlikely any Naval officers are sitting around waiting, Ms. Vincente. The Service is always shorthanded. What I imagine he’ll do is borrow them from local service, and replace them with some of our own officers. Perhaps even myself.”
“People without interstellar experience?”
“Not every lieutenant goes interstellar before he’s commissioned, ma’am. As long as the Captain’s a seasoned officer, the ship will be in good hands.” I continued my reassurances until she seemed satisfied.
The next day when I met Vax on the bridge I asked, “How are your exercises going?”
“They’re not,” he said. I raised an eyebrow. He added, “Derek showed up the first day and we worked out. Easy stuff, like they give the first-year cadets. Yesterday he came again, but after a half hour he walked out.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing, sir. He just stalked out and slammed the hatch.” So much for Mr. Carr.
I met Amanda in the corridor on the way to the dining hall. She stopped, waiting for me to speak first.
“I haven’t made up my mind yet, Amanda.”
“Isn’t your time about up?”
“Day after tomorrow. One way or another, it will be over by then.”
“Listen to your conscience,” she said. “Pardon them. Years from now you’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”
“I’m still thinking.” I didn’t mention my interview with Rogoff. We went in to dinner. When I came to the part of the Ship’s Prayer, “Bring health and well-being to all aboard,” I stumbled over the words.
That evening Chief McAndrews sat down heavily in the armchair alongside my table. The pipe lay between us. I said, “Chief, I order you to ignite that device. We need to investigate it further.”
“Aye aye, sir.” It was his third visit to my cabin; we were establishing the form of a ritual. He opened the canister and got out his candlelighter.
I kicked off my shoes. After all, it was my own cabin. “I was hoping I’d have another middy by now.” I yawned. “We’re all standing too many watches.”
“On the bridge or in the launch berth, sir?” He was beginning to unbend with me, just a bit.
“Oh, you heard about that?”
“Someone saw you take Mr. Holser in there and emerge later with a very subdued midshipman.”
“Who saw?”
“I don’t remember, sir.”
If we could power the ship by gossip it would be faster than fusion. Maybe it really was Darla who spread the word. “I think Vax will be all right, Chief. I’ve straightened things out with him.”
“With a club?”
I smiled. “Vax just needs the facts demonstrated from time to time. Then he believes them. He’ll make a good first middy.”
He puffed on his artifact. “What you need, Captain, is a fourth middy. Maybe even a fifth.” I knew that. I could then make Vax a lieutenant. Probably also Alexi, if I hadn’t embittered him for life.
“The only feeler I’ve had is from that Carr joey, and I turned him down.”
“There’s Ricky.” The Chief knew everything.
“He won’t be old enough to be much help until we’re past Detour. We’ll have new officers and won’t need him by then.”
“So why’d you invite him, Captain?”
“I didn’t say he’d be no help at all. And I like him.”
“He’ll agree. He needs more time to think about it, but count on him.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said. “I don’t have the knack of persuading people without terrorizing them. First Vax, then the Pilot, and then Alexi. Now it’s Ricky. I had to scream at the top of my voice to stop him from standing at attention. I’m lucky he didn’t wet his pants.”
The Chief smiled. “You didn’t terrorize him. You startled him some, but he’s told everyone belowdecks how the Captain wants him to be a midshipman. He sticks his chest
out when he says it. I don’t think you have to worry.”
“Then I was fortunate. Part of my problem having no natural authority is that I come on like a wild man to uphold the stature of the office. As I did with Alexi.”
The Chief shrugged. “The barrel? He’ll get over it. I gave him half a dozen, not all that hard. He’s had worse before.”
“But not from me. I was his friend.”
Chief McAndrews took several puffs on the pipe before deciding to reply. “You still are,” he said. “You’ve done him a favor, whether he knows it or not. A big one. When we get to Hope Nation he’ll probably be transferred. What would happen to him if he had a silly fit on the bridge of someone else’s ship?”
I shuddered. Either he wouldn’t sit down for a month or he would find himself in the brig. If the Captain didn’t die of apoplexy first.
“Still, I should have found some other way to stop him.”
The Chief waved his pipe in the air. “Say you’re right, Captain. Maybe you should have found a better way. He’ll still get over it. Neither he nor anyone else has the right to expect you to be perfect. You’re doing your best.”
“And it isn’t good enough, Chief.” I stared moodily at his smoke. “In a couple of days I have to decide about those poor joeys in the brig. I have two choices, both wrong. If I let them go, mutiny goes unpunished. Admiralty would never pardon them if the affair had happened back at Earthport; they’d hang the three with no regrets. But I feel that if I execute them, I’m a heartless killer.”
I brooded. “Expect myself to be perfect? If I were barely competent I’d find a third solution. I’ve tried; I can’t think of any. So I’ll pick one alternative or the other. My best isn’t good enough.”
Wisely, the Chief said nothing.
The next day, I was restless and irritable. To distract myself I ran surprise drills throughout the ship, telling myself it was to improve the crew’s alertness. “Fire in the launch berth!” “Fusion engine overheat” “Man Battle Stations!” The crew scurried.
I announced that Darla had a nervous breakdown, and made the middies plot all ship’s functions by hand. They complied, although nobody, especially Darla, thought it was funny. I entered drill response times in the Log to compare with future drills. I made a mental note to have future drills.
All in all, I continued making myself unpopular.
I woke in the morning with a sense of dread at what I’d have to face before the day ended. After showering and dressing I sat to await the usual knock; in a few moments Ricky arrived with my breakfast. He put down the tray, saluted, and waited to be dismissed. Though he stood at attention, his stomach no longer tried to meet his backbone.
“Stand easy, Mr. Fuentes.”
“Thank you, Captain. They were having waffles and cream so I brought you extras. Cream is real zarky.” He looked wistfully at the tray. Crew rations didn’t compare with officers’ and passengers’ fare.
I liked the new Ricky much better. Or was it the old Ricky? “Thank you. About that cadet idea, what do you think?”
“Mr. Browning says I should. So does Mr. Terrill. It’s just I’m a little scared. Captain, sir.”
“I can understand that.” I took a bite of waffle. It was delicious. I thought of offering him some, but there were limits. A crewman didn’t breakfast with the Captain. “So you can read, hmm?”
“Oh, yes. I can write too. Even by hand.” He was very proud of it.
“Ricky, I’m going to arrange some lessons for you. Math, physics, history. I want you to work as hard as you can. Will you do that for me, as a special favor?” That would get his cooperation far better than an order.
He actually swelled with pride. His shoulders went up, his chest came out. “Oh, yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“Very well. Dismissed, Mr. Fuentes.” He saluted, spun on his heel, and went to the hatch. Someone must have been teaching him physical drills. I suspected the Ship’s Boy already knew more about Naval life, and how Hibernia was run, than most people would imagine. “Oh, Mr. Fuentes?”
“Yes, sir?” He stopped in the entryway.
“Go to the galley. My compliments to the Cook, and would he please serve you a portion of waffles and cream.”
His face lit up. “Oh, thanks, Captain, sir! They’re real good. He already gave me some, but I’d love more!” He raced out into the corridor. So much for my generosity.
Sandy was on watch with the Pilot when I popped onto the bridge for a quick inspection. Mr. Haynes nodded with careful civility. He hadn’t had much to say to me since the incident with our coordinates.
I glanced at Sandy and my eyebrow rose; the boy was dozing in his seat. That wouldn’t do. I relieved him and sent him to Vax, with a request to encourage the youngster to stay awake on duty.
Vax, a middy himself, couldn’t send Sandy to the barrel, but he had ways to get the point across. I didn’t feel guilty this time; sleeping on watch was a heinous offense. I had to prepare Sandy to hold his own watch. It crossed my mind that I myself had dozed on the bridge only a couple of weeks before. I argued that I wasn’t actually watch officer; I’d just stayed to keep an eye on things. When part of me started to argue back, I left the bridge.
I wandered the Level 1 circumference corridor, past cabins in which Lieutenants Dagalow and Cousins once lived. Past Lieutenant Malstrom’s cabin where a lifetime ago I’d played chess. Through the passengers’ section, nodding curtly to anyone who noticed me. I looked into the infirmary. The med tech came to attention in the anteroom; Dr. Uburu was with a passenger in the cubicle that served as an examining room.
I had an inexplicable urge to visit the whole of the ship. I went down to Level 2. The exercise room in which I’d battled Vax was empty. A few people were in the passengers’ lounge: the Treadwell children, Mr. Barstow, Derek Carr. I left quickly, in no mood for conversation.
I wandered into the dining hall. Empty tables, set with gleaming shining glassware and china on starched white cloths, waited for the evening’s throng. I acknowledged the good sense of the ship’s designers; by having officers and passengers eat separately twice a day, and merging us into one unit for the evening meal, they provided continuing variation in our routines while subtly reminding us of the difference in our status.
I closed my eyes to summon Captain Haag, competent and reassuring in his dress whites, delivering the Ship’s Prayer to an attentive hall. I found the table where I’d apprehensively awaited my first dinner, upon reporting to Hibernia but a few months past.
Morose, I left the dining hall, wandered past the row of hatches to the passengers’ cabins. In the passengers’ mess the steward, startled to find me where the Captain seldom ventured, dropped his tray of silverware on the table and snapped to attention. I released him with a wave.
The mess could hold thirty passengers at a time; they came for their breakfast and lunch on rigid schedule. The compartment was plain, almost cheerless, unlike the ship’s dining hall above.
I took the ladder down to Level 3, feeling my weight increase perceptibly as I did so. Here, crewmen hurried about on errands, snapping to attention as I passed unheeding. I stopped at the crew’s presentation hall, or theater; its rows of practical, sturdy seats depressed me. Farther along the corridor was the crew’s exercise room, identical to the passengers’ gym a level above.
“Pardon me, Captain, can I help you find someone?” Carpenter’s Mate Tsai Ting, whom Mr. Vishinsky had brought to the munitions locker. He stood at attention.
“No. Carry on, sailor.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He went about his business. Now it wouldn’t be long before the whole crew knew I was poking around in their territory.
I looked into crew berth one, knowing I was violating custom. The crew had no place of their own except their berths and the privacy rooms, and little time to themselves. It was understood that the Captain would not harass them in their bunks by unannounced inspections.
A dozen crewmen were sleeping; on
e lad sitting on his bunk saw me and was about to leap to his feet; I put my finger to my lips and shook my head. He remained in his place, his eyes locked on me, while I looked about from the hatchway. The crew berth smelled of many men in close quarters; it was clean without being cleanly. Calendars were posted on some of the lockers; unused bunks were neatly made. It was no more, no less than I expected.
Restless, I went into the adjoining head. The lack of privacy in its large open spaces made our midshipmen’s head seem positively luxurious. This room, at least, was scrupulously clean. The petty officers saw to that.
There was nothing aft but the engine room and the shaft. I climbed down the ladder to the engine room at the base of the disk. The insistent throb of the fusion drives pervaded my senses. The outer compartment was empty; the Chief would be farther aft, then, in the drive control chamber. I wandered starboard to the hydroponics unit.
“They’ll be all right.” The voice came from around me curve in the corridor just ahead. I stopped.
“I don’t know. He’s a bastard; look how he shoved the Chief aside to get to the top.”
“Sure, Captain Kid’s ambitious and saw his chance. But he’ll let them go; he’s just waiting ’til the last minute.”
“Yeah? Why?”
Heart pounding, I pressed my head against the bulkhead to spy on my crew.
“He’s showing us he could, if he wants to. But he can’t really hang them. There’d be a mutiny and he knows it. He’d be out the airlock before a single one of them got it.”
There was a pause. “I’m not part of any mutiny,” the voice said cautiously. “I’m out of it. We’re just talking.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I’d do anything myself. I just said the Captain didn’t dare. You know the joes, some of them are real tough grodes. You think Captain Kid wants to go up against them? Why should he bother? All that happened was some joeys got shoved around a little. Nobody got killed.”
Midshipman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 1) Page 17
