The Seafort Saga, page 56
I swallowed. My chest ached. She’d been in that state, off and on, since the day before, when I’d walked heavily to the infirmary, Nate’s still body in my arms. Plaintive, she’d trailed alongside, sometimes crying, urging me to walk softly so I wouldn’t wake him.
I hugged her now, but she pulled away, pressed her face to the transplex hatch, staring at the lock where the tiny coffin rested in the folded metal arm of the ejection unit.
I began to read. “ ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ...’ ” Philip Tyre sobbed aloud.
My gaze flickered between the holovid and the tiny box in the airlock. After a time I was aware that I’d stopped speaking. I found my place but for some reason no words would come. I puzzled over the text. Vax Holser reached gently for the holovid. I wheeled on him angrily. “Mind your place, Lieutenant!” I took up my reading. “ ‘ ...Trusting in the goodness and mercy of Lord God eternal, we commit his body to the deep ... to await the day of judgment when the souls of man shall be called forth before Almighty Lord God.’ ” I nodded to the seaman on duty.
Amanda buried her face in my shoulder. “Nick, you love him too! For God’s sake, don’t put our baby Outside!”
The metal arm of the ejection unit slowly unfolded, pushing the side of the coffin, sliding it smoothly to the outer lock. The arm fully extended, the casket floated gently at the end of the chamber, drifting slowly into the immeasurable emptiness.
Amanda stared lifelessly at the empty lock. “God, how brutal,” she whispered. “I never knew you could be so cruel.” She turned away. Reaching out she ran a gentle finger down Philip Tyre’s tear-streaked face. “It’s all right, Philip. Don’t cry.” Absently she patted his shoulder.
I caught Dr. Bros’s eye. Helpless, he shook his head. He smiled at Amanda. “Let’s walk, Mrs. Seafort. We can sit in the infirmary and talk a while.”
“I’d rather go to my cabin,” said Amanda.
“Let’s talk first,” suggested the doctor.
“No. I’m going back to my room. Nicky, make him leave me alone!”
She was in shock, Dr. Bros had told me, and retreating from unacceptable realities. I didn’t want a diagnosis, I wanted Amanda. I struggled not to think of the empty crib waiting in the cabin, fearing loss of self-control. I yearned for her touch, her caress. But for the moment she hated me, though I knew in a little while she would come to me and lay her head on my shoulder in puzzled grief, as she had before. I guided my wife back to our cabin and closed the hatch behind us.
Days passed, and no ship came. There was no further sign of the aliens. At length Captain Derghinski conferred with me, over the simulscreens. Neither of us dared leave his ship, even for a few minutes.
“One of us will go on to the next rendezvous point.” He fingered his mustache. “To see if Challenger’s waiting. But if the others show up here ...”
Passively, I waited.
“You’ve got the faster drive, Seafort. I’ll go on ahead; you wait here for seven days, then catch up with us.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“If any ships come in, send them on through immediately. Don’t have them wait at this rendezvous.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, good luck.”
“The same to you, sir.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Mr. Seafort,” he blurted, “I’m sorry about your son. Terribly sorry.”
My chest was unbearably tight. “Thank you, sir.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Godspeed. I’ll see you soon.”
“Godspeed, sir.” We blanked the connection. Shortly afterward he Fused and we were alone once more.
I dreaded to go back to my cabin, but knew I must. Amanda was there. Sometimes I would find her prostrate with grief.
Other times I would find her cheerfully preparing soft foods for Nate’s lunch.
I stared dully at the blank simulscreen. In the next seat Vax Holser stirred. “Are you going to the cabin now, sir?” His voice was soft.
“Are you ordering me off the bridge, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir,” he said, unflinching despite my fury. “I thought you might want to be with Mrs. Seafort. I can handle the watch.”
“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Holser,” I said, my voice harsh. I swung my seat to face the other way. After some minutes I cleared my throat. “Sorry.”
“No problem, sir.” For some reason his understanding rekindled my rage.
“I’ll be in my cabin. Call if anything happens.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Amanda sat rocking in the dark. “Shh, you’ll wake him.”
I sighed. “He’s not here, hon.” I knelt by her rocker and put my hand on her arm. “He’s gone. There’s only us.”
She looked puzzled. “Gone?” Her face cleared. “Yes, I remember now. You put him Outside.” She shivered. “It’s freezing out there, Nicky. That wasn’t right. He’ll catch his death of cold.”
I was speechless. I squeezed her arm; she made no response. I went to wash up, then sat on the bed.
A few moments later Amanda came to sit beside me. “I know you miss him too,” she said gently. “You loved him so much.”
My throat locked and I couldn’t speak. She rested her head against my side. “He was such a lovely boy ...” My arm went around her and we sat in silent misery.
7
PORTIA WAITED ALONE, ALERT, anxious, for three interminable days. As tension rose, even the transients quarreled incessantly at dinner, until my manner became so menacing that they subsided. Once, as the transpops and I crowded out of the dining hall, Chris Dakko muttered a derisive, “Electropiss!” Instantly I backhanded him across the mouth. He stared at me in shock and astonishment, blood trickling from his lip. I spun on my heel and strode to the bridge.
An hour later Chris and his father loomed over me, escorted by Philip Tyre, at their demand. Walter Dakko spluttered with rage. “How dare you strike my son! How dare you!”
“He’ll behave himself in my presence, Mr. Dakko.” Chris fidgeted, shaking his head in impatience and disgust.
“We’re paid passengers! He’s not one of your crewmen. You have no right to touch him!” Not correct, legally, but by custom passengers were treated with more respect than I’d shown his son. On the other hand, I didn’t need the boy stirring up a riot with my transients.
“I didn’t do anything,” Chris said hotly. “You should hear what they call us! You have no damned right—”
“You’re a child aboard my ship, Christopher. Mind your manners or I’ll do worse!”
“You can’t—”
“That was your last warning.” Something in my tone made him silent. “I’ve heard what you have to say. Get off my bridge.”
“But—”
“Both of you. Now!” I gestured to Philip, who put his hand on Walter Dakko’s arm. The elder man shook it off, stalked to the hatch. His son followed, a sneer on his face.
I served out my watch restlessly, wanting and not wanting to go back to my cabin. At watch’s end, I left the moment Alexi came to replace me.
I stopped at my cabin door, but turned away. Not yet; I would walk for a while. I continued along the circumference corridor. A few passengers were on their way to the lounge for an evening of holovids and idle chatter. I nodded curtly and went on.
Outside the wardroom Derek Carr stood at attention, his nose to the bulkhead, eyes ahead. I stopped abruptly. “What’s this, Mr. Carr?”
“Mr. Tyre’s orders, sir,” Derek said, his voice stiff.
I was at a loss. “But you—I mean—you and he—”
“I put myself under his orders, sir. Two days ago. In the wardroom and out.”
My eyes misted. I knew how hard it would have been for Derek to back down to Philip. He remained at attention, eyes front to the dull gray bulkhead. My anger swelled. “And this is how he treats you? Hazing, at your age? I’ll settle that, and fast!” I turned to the wardroom hatch.
“No, sir, please!” Derek blurted. I paused, turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He reddened. “I, uh, told Mr. Tyre, sir. To give me whatever orders he wished. Until he was sure I meant it.”
I said slowly, “You told him to haze you?”
He started to shrug, then realized he was supposed to be at attention. “Yes, sir, he needs to know he’s in charge. It’s all right. He’s not hurting me, and he’ll let up soon.” He took a deep breath. “Captain, please don’t interfere. Please.”
I sagged against the bulkhead. “Why, Derek? Why’d you do it?”
Momentarily he closed his eyes. “It’s right for the ship, sir. I realized that after the attack. We can’t be in conflict now. He’s senior; he should be in charge. The other way isn’t natural.” The corners of his mouth turned up bleakly. “And I can always rebel again, should it be necessary.”
I said quietly, “Don’t let him hurt you, Derek.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“Promise.”
“I promise, sir.” Abruptly he added, “Thank you for caring.”
I touched his shoulder and walked away, not trusting myself to speak. What it must have cost him, I couldn’t know. I made a note to watch the Log for demerits. If Philip started again, I would beach him. Permanently.
Freiheit Defused in the middle of the night, sending alarm bells clanging and my heart slamming against my ribs. I conferred with Captain Tenere, and delivered Captain Derghinski’s instructions. Freiheit plotted her course for the next rendezvous point. A half hour later she Fused and was gone.
At dinner the next day the transients were subdued, almost obsequious. It took me a while to realize that they were reacting to my stand with Chris Dakko on their behalf. Eddie shyly asked me if Amanda would be giving any more reading lessons; I told him gently that she would, after she recovered.
After the meal I accompanied them back to Level 2. They clustered around the sentry posted at the airlock, teasing him and jostling each other until I snapped, “Knock off joeys!” They obeyed immediately. It occurred to me that for all my prestige as Captain, I hadn’t truly been a figure of authority to them until I’d faced down an Upper New Yorker.
I spent a full half hour trying to separate myself from the transients. With the death of Melissa Chong I seemed to have inherited her role as liaison between the transpops and the civilized denizens of the ship. No matter that I had put Alexi Tamarov in charge; they ignored him and came to me with their problems and complaints.
Raull wanted Jonie to stop beating him up; Deke complained that Gregor Attani and his friends were still making fun of them. Jonie wanted to get her hair done like Annie’s and Annie wouldn’t tell her who had done it. At least, I thought that was what they were trying to tell me.
After I extricated myself I went to the infirmary and knocked on the hatch. Dr. Bros himself let me in; his med tech was off duty. In his tiny office he sat back and looked at me gravely. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
“It’s Amanda,” I said. “What can you do for her?”
“She’s no better?”
“At times,” I admitted. “She cries for Nate, and I think she’s going to be all right. Then she’ll wake up because it’s time to get him breakfast. It’s worse because all his things are still in the cabin. His crib, his clothes, the baby food. Should I have them packed?”
“How long has it been? A week?” I nodded. “No, I would say not. She needs to grieve. Taking his things away won’t distract her; she’s already trying her best not to think about his death.”
“Is there anything you can do? Drugs, or medicine?” I hoped he’d understand. The horror of what went on in my cabin was more than I could speak of. And still I felt that tiny hand on my shoulder ... I cleared my throat briskly. “Anything?”
He considered. “Well, we know there’s a strong hormonal element in grieving. Tears flush out harmful chemicals and actually cure the mind. That’s why women are often more mentally healthy than men; they’ve been taught to cry more easily. We could examine Amanda for hormone rebalancing.”
“Amanda, a schizo?” I was horrified.
“Not only schizophrenics go to hormone rebalancing centers, Captain,” he said with a small smile. “In any event, we can’t do a full rebalance with our limited equipment. But it’s not absolutely necessary; it’s just an option.”
“What would you do, yourself?”
“I’d probably run her blood chemistry through the analyzer and see what we found. Or you could wait.”
“How long?” I didn’t know how much more I could stand.
“A week, certainly. Not more than a month; her behavior patterns will become fixed and much harder to change.”
“Is there any harm in waiting?” I wanted Amanda to snap back on her own; I hated the idea that she might be mentally ill.
“Not for a while,” the doctor said gently. “Let her be for now.”
“A week,” I said. “After we’re Fused again I’ll decide what to do if she hasn’t recovered.” On that note we parted.
When I got back to the cabin Amanda was almost cheerful. “Hi, Nicky, where’ve you been?”
“Taking care of the trannies,” I said, half truthfully.
She winced. “Don’t let them hear you saying that.” I smiled. “It’s odd, though. When Eddie wants their attention he yells, ‘Yo, trannies!’ Apparently they only take offense when outsiders say it.” I sat wearily in the chair by the conference table.
Amanda perched on my lap. “I wish we were happier, Nicky,” she said wistfully. She bit her lip. “God, I miss him.” I hugged her gently, not daring to speak. We sat like that for several minutes. I loved her so much at that moment, knowing she was truly with me. Then she got up to get Nate a blanket, and my world crashed at my feet.
The next afternoon two ships arrived within minutes of each other; the first time the alarms sounded I ran to the bridge at full gallop; the second time I was already there. Hindenburg Defused seventy thousand kilometers from us; we exchanged recognition signals and I gave Captain Everts the message to proceed to the next rendezvous. She nodded grimly, waited while her course was plotted, said good-bye, and disappeared.
Captain Hall glowered at me from the bridge of Soyez. “I’m senior to Derghinski, Seafort. His orders don’t bind me.”
“No, sir,” I agreed. “But he is senior to me, and my orders were to give you the message.”
His visage softened. “Yes, I understand. Hell of a mess, isn’t it? It would be a lot easier if we knew where the Admiral went.”
“Yes, sir.” There was no need to say more.
“Very well, he’s probably right. I’ll go on. How long has it been since Derghinski Fused?”
“Six days, sir.” He’d told me to wait seven.
“The rest of the squadron is still behind us somewhere, Lord God willing.” He brooded. “Can you wait a few more days, Seafort? I don’t want to order you, but it would be in all our interests.”
“I’ll wait.” It didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Give it three more days, Seafort. That should be enough, no matter what the variation in our fusion drives. If they’re coming they’ll be here by then.”
“Aye aye, sir.” We said our good-byes and broke the connection. I watched his ship, barely visible against the backdrop of innumerable points of light, until he Fused and was gone.
I waited with impatience for our vigil to end, spending much of my time on the bridge. The morning after Captain Hall Fused, the Log listed Derek Carr with two demerits, issued by the first midshipman. I gripped my chair arm. I would allow five. No more. Then Philip Tyre was through.
That afternoon there was a knock on the bridge hatch. Philip Tyre, requesting permission to enter. I regarded him coldly. “Well?”
He stood at attention; I hadn’t released him. “Sir ...” His tone was determined. “I’d like you to cancel demerits issued in error.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, sir.” He blushed.
“To Mr. Carr, I presume?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What kind of error, Mr. Tyre?”
He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “An error in judgment, sir. Mine. Mr. Carr did not deserve any demerits.”
“Very well.” I was vastly relieved. “His demerits are canceled.”
“Thank—”
“You may have them instead.”
His relief was unabated, despite the hours of hard calisthenics I’d just consigned him to. “Thank you very much, Captain. Thank you! Am I dismissed?”
“Yes.” He wheeled for the door, but I thought better of sending him off on that note. “You showed good judgment this afternoon, Mr. Tyre. It will be noted.”
He broke into a shy smile. “Thank you, sir.” He left. After my watch some curious urge took me to the exercise room. I looked in; I wasn’t noticed. Philip Tyre was energetically working off a demerit. Derek Carr was accompanying him, the two chatting amiably while they exercised. I closed the hatch quietly. Would wonders never cease?
The next day I was on watch with Vax when a delegation of passengers asked to see me. I had Rafe Treadwell escort them to the bridge: Dr. Antonio, on behalf of the Passengers’ Council. Walter Dakko, Emily Valdez, and several others I hardly knew.
“Captain, we’ve paid for passage to Hope Nation on a passenger vessel. Instead we’re drifting, waiting for God knows what, in the middle of a battle zone. We’re civilians, all of us. It’s unfair to subject us to the risks of war.”
“We’re a U.N.N.S. Naval vessel,” I corrected him. “Part of the military forces of the United Nations, as is every U.N. ship.”
“Technically, perhaps. But you have over a hundred civilians aboard.”
“Technically?” I slammed my fist on the console. “You booked passage knowing we’re a military vessel.”
“We booked passage because it was the only way to get to Hope Nation.” Walter Dakko.
“And we just want to make sure we get there,” Dr. Antonio interjected. “Look, Captain, we know you carry weapons to protect the ship, and we’re grateful for that. But to wait here looking for trouble, when we could be on our way ...”
“Those are our orders.” My voice was stiff.
I hugged her now, but she pulled away, pressed her face to the transplex hatch, staring at the lock where the tiny coffin rested in the folded metal arm of the ejection unit.
I began to read. “ ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ...’ ” Philip Tyre sobbed aloud.
My gaze flickered between the holovid and the tiny box in the airlock. After a time I was aware that I’d stopped speaking. I found my place but for some reason no words would come. I puzzled over the text. Vax Holser reached gently for the holovid. I wheeled on him angrily. “Mind your place, Lieutenant!” I took up my reading. “ ‘ ...Trusting in the goodness and mercy of Lord God eternal, we commit his body to the deep ... to await the day of judgment when the souls of man shall be called forth before Almighty Lord God.’ ” I nodded to the seaman on duty.
Amanda buried her face in my shoulder. “Nick, you love him too! For God’s sake, don’t put our baby Outside!”
The metal arm of the ejection unit slowly unfolded, pushing the side of the coffin, sliding it smoothly to the outer lock. The arm fully extended, the casket floated gently at the end of the chamber, drifting slowly into the immeasurable emptiness.
Amanda stared lifelessly at the empty lock. “God, how brutal,” she whispered. “I never knew you could be so cruel.” She turned away. Reaching out she ran a gentle finger down Philip Tyre’s tear-streaked face. “It’s all right, Philip. Don’t cry.” Absently she patted his shoulder.
I caught Dr. Bros’s eye. Helpless, he shook his head. He smiled at Amanda. “Let’s walk, Mrs. Seafort. We can sit in the infirmary and talk a while.”
“I’d rather go to my cabin,” said Amanda.
“Let’s talk first,” suggested the doctor.
“No. I’m going back to my room. Nicky, make him leave me alone!”
She was in shock, Dr. Bros had told me, and retreating from unacceptable realities. I didn’t want a diagnosis, I wanted Amanda. I struggled not to think of the empty crib waiting in the cabin, fearing loss of self-control. I yearned for her touch, her caress. But for the moment she hated me, though I knew in a little while she would come to me and lay her head on my shoulder in puzzled grief, as she had before. I guided my wife back to our cabin and closed the hatch behind us.
Days passed, and no ship came. There was no further sign of the aliens. At length Captain Derghinski conferred with me, over the simulscreens. Neither of us dared leave his ship, even for a few minutes.
“One of us will go on to the next rendezvous point.” He fingered his mustache. “To see if Challenger’s waiting. But if the others show up here ...”
Passively, I waited.
“You’ve got the faster drive, Seafort. I’ll go on ahead; you wait here for seven days, then catch up with us.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“If any ships come in, send them on through immediately. Don’t have them wait at this rendezvous.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, good luck.”
“The same to you, sir.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Mr. Seafort,” he blurted, “I’m sorry about your son. Terribly sorry.”
My chest was unbearably tight. “Thank you, sir.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Godspeed. I’ll see you soon.”
“Godspeed, sir.” We blanked the connection. Shortly afterward he Fused and we were alone once more.
I dreaded to go back to my cabin, but knew I must. Amanda was there. Sometimes I would find her prostrate with grief.
Other times I would find her cheerfully preparing soft foods for Nate’s lunch.
I stared dully at the blank simulscreen. In the next seat Vax Holser stirred. “Are you going to the cabin now, sir?” His voice was soft.
“Are you ordering me off the bridge, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir,” he said, unflinching despite my fury. “I thought you might want to be with Mrs. Seafort. I can handle the watch.”
“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Holser,” I said, my voice harsh. I swung my seat to face the other way. After some minutes I cleared my throat. “Sorry.”
“No problem, sir.” For some reason his understanding rekindled my rage.
“I’ll be in my cabin. Call if anything happens.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Amanda sat rocking in the dark. “Shh, you’ll wake him.”
I sighed. “He’s not here, hon.” I knelt by her rocker and put my hand on her arm. “He’s gone. There’s only us.”
She looked puzzled. “Gone?” Her face cleared. “Yes, I remember now. You put him Outside.” She shivered. “It’s freezing out there, Nicky. That wasn’t right. He’ll catch his death of cold.”
I was speechless. I squeezed her arm; she made no response. I went to wash up, then sat on the bed.
A few moments later Amanda came to sit beside me. “I know you miss him too,” she said gently. “You loved him so much.”
My throat locked and I couldn’t speak. She rested her head against my side. “He was such a lovely boy ...” My arm went around her and we sat in silent misery.
7
PORTIA WAITED ALONE, ALERT, anxious, for three interminable days. As tension rose, even the transients quarreled incessantly at dinner, until my manner became so menacing that they subsided. Once, as the transpops and I crowded out of the dining hall, Chris Dakko muttered a derisive, “Electropiss!” Instantly I backhanded him across the mouth. He stared at me in shock and astonishment, blood trickling from his lip. I spun on my heel and strode to the bridge.
An hour later Chris and his father loomed over me, escorted by Philip Tyre, at their demand. Walter Dakko spluttered with rage. “How dare you strike my son! How dare you!”
“He’ll behave himself in my presence, Mr. Dakko.” Chris fidgeted, shaking his head in impatience and disgust.
“We’re paid passengers! He’s not one of your crewmen. You have no right to touch him!” Not correct, legally, but by custom passengers were treated with more respect than I’d shown his son. On the other hand, I didn’t need the boy stirring up a riot with my transients.
“I didn’t do anything,” Chris said hotly. “You should hear what they call us! You have no damned right—”
“You’re a child aboard my ship, Christopher. Mind your manners or I’ll do worse!”
“You can’t—”
“That was your last warning.” Something in my tone made him silent. “I’ve heard what you have to say. Get off my bridge.”
“But—”
“Both of you. Now!” I gestured to Philip, who put his hand on Walter Dakko’s arm. The elder man shook it off, stalked to the hatch. His son followed, a sneer on his face.
I served out my watch restlessly, wanting and not wanting to go back to my cabin. At watch’s end, I left the moment Alexi came to replace me.
I stopped at my cabin door, but turned away. Not yet; I would walk for a while. I continued along the circumference corridor. A few passengers were on their way to the lounge for an evening of holovids and idle chatter. I nodded curtly and went on.
Outside the wardroom Derek Carr stood at attention, his nose to the bulkhead, eyes ahead. I stopped abruptly. “What’s this, Mr. Carr?”
“Mr. Tyre’s orders, sir,” Derek said, his voice stiff.
I was at a loss. “But you—I mean—you and he—”
“I put myself under his orders, sir. Two days ago. In the wardroom and out.”
My eyes misted. I knew how hard it would have been for Derek to back down to Philip. He remained at attention, eyes front to the dull gray bulkhead. My anger swelled. “And this is how he treats you? Hazing, at your age? I’ll settle that, and fast!” I turned to the wardroom hatch.
“No, sir, please!” Derek blurted. I paused, turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He reddened. “I, uh, told Mr. Tyre, sir. To give me whatever orders he wished. Until he was sure I meant it.”
I said slowly, “You told him to haze you?”
He started to shrug, then realized he was supposed to be at attention. “Yes, sir, he needs to know he’s in charge. It’s all right. He’s not hurting me, and he’ll let up soon.” He took a deep breath. “Captain, please don’t interfere. Please.”
I sagged against the bulkhead. “Why, Derek? Why’d you do it?”
Momentarily he closed his eyes. “It’s right for the ship, sir. I realized that after the attack. We can’t be in conflict now. He’s senior; he should be in charge. The other way isn’t natural.” The corners of his mouth turned up bleakly. “And I can always rebel again, should it be necessary.”
I said quietly, “Don’t let him hurt you, Derek.”
“I won’t, sir.”
“Promise.”
“I promise, sir.” Abruptly he added, “Thank you for caring.”
I touched his shoulder and walked away, not trusting myself to speak. What it must have cost him, I couldn’t know. I made a note to watch the Log for demerits. If Philip started again, I would beach him. Permanently.
Freiheit Defused in the middle of the night, sending alarm bells clanging and my heart slamming against my ribs. I conferred with Captain Tenere, and delivered Captain Derghinski’s instructions. Freiheit plotted her course for the next rendezvous point. A half hour later she Fused and was gone.
At dinner the next day the transients were subdued, almost obsequious. It took me a while to realize that they were reacting to my stand with Chris Dakko on their behalf. Eddie shyly asked me if Amanda would be giving any more reading lessons; I told him gently that she would, after she recovered.
After the meal I accompanied them back to Level 2. They clustered around the sentry posted at the airlock, teasing him and jostling each other until I snapped, “Knock off joeys!” They obeyed immediately. It occurred to me that for all my prestige as Captain, I hadn’t truly been a figure of authority to them until I’d faced down an Upper New Yorker.
I spent a full half hour trying to separate myself from the transients. With the death of Melissa Chong I seemed to have inherited her role as liaison between the transpops and the civilized denizens of the ship. No matter that I had put Alexi Tamarov in charge; they ignored him and came to me with their problems and complaints.
Raull wanted Jonie to stop beating him up; Deke complained that Gregor Attani and his friends were still making fun of them. Jonie wanted to get her hair done like Annie’s and Annie wouldn’t tell her who had done it. At least, I thought that was what they were trying to tell me.
After I extricated myself I went to the infirmary and knocked on the hatch. Dr. Bros himself let me in; his med tech was off duty. In his tiny office he sat back and looked at me gravely. “What can I do for you, Captain?”
“It’s Amanda,” I said. “What can you do for her?”
“She’s no better?”
“At times,” I admitted. “She cries for Nate, and I think she’s going to be all right. Then she’ll wake up because it’s time to get him breakfast. It’s worse because all his things are still in the cabin. His crib, his clothes, the baby food. Should I have them packed?”
“How long has it been? A week?” I nodded. “No, I would say not. She needs to grieve. Taking his things away won’t distract her; she’s already trying her best not to think about his death.”
“Is there anything you can do? Drugs, or medicine?” I hoped he’d understand. The horror of what went on in my cabin was more than I could speak of. And still I felt that tiny hand on my shoulder ... I cleared my throat briskly. “Anything?”
He considered. “Well, we know there’s a strong hormonal element in grieving. Tears flush out harmful chemicals and actually cure the mind. That’s why women are often more mentally healthy than men; they’ve been taught to cry more easily. We could examine Amanda for hormone rebalancing.”
“Amanda, a schizo?” I was horrified.
“Not only schizophrenics go to hormone rebalancing centers, Captain,” he said with a small smile. “In any event, we can’t do a full rebalance with our limited equipment. But it’s not absolutely necessary; it’s just an option.”
“What would you do, yourself?”
“I’d probably run her blood chemistry through the analyzer and see what we found. Or you could wait.”
“How long?” I didn’t know how much more I could stand.
“A week, certainly. Not more than a month; her behavior patterns will become fixed and much harder to change.”
“Is there any harm in waiting?” I wanted Amanda to snap back on her own; I hated the idea that she might be mentally ill.
“Not for a while,” the doctor said gently. “Let her be for now.”
“A week,” I said. “After we’re Fused again I’ll decide what to do if she hasn’t recovered.” On that note we parted.
When I got back to the cabin Amanda was almost cheerful. “Hi, Nicky, where’ve you been?”
“Taking care of the trannies,” I said, half truthfully.
She winced. “Don’t let them hear you saying that.” I smiled. “It’s odd, though. When Eddie wants their attention he yells, ‘Yo, trannies!’ Apparently they only take offense when outsiders say it.” I sat wearily in the chair by the conference table.
Amanda perched on my lap. “I wish we were happier, Nicky,” she said wistfully. She bit her lip. “God, I miss him.” I hugged her gently, not daring to speak. We sat like that for several minutes. I loved her so much at that moment, knowing she was truly with me. Then she got up to get Nate a blanket, and my world crashed at my feet.
The next afternoon two ships arrived within minutes of each other; the first time the alarms sounded I ran to the bridge at full gallop; the second time I was already there. Hindenburg Defused seventy thousand kilometers from us; we exchanged recognition signals and I gave Captain Everts the message to proceed to the next rendezvous. She nodded grimly, waited while her course was plotted, said good-bye, and disappeared.
Captain Hall glowered at me from the bridge of Soyez. “I’m senior to Derghinski, Seafort. His orders don’t bind me.”
“No, sir,” I agreed. “But he is senior to me, and my orders were to give you the message.”
His visage softened. “Yes, I understand. Hell of a mess, isn’t it? It would be a lot easier if we knew where the Admiral went.”
“Yes, sir.” There was no need to say more.
“Very well, he’s probably right. I’ll go on. How long has it been since Derghinski Fused?”
“Six days, sir.” He’d told me to wait seven.
“The rest of the squadron is still behind us somewhere, Lord God willing.” He brooded. “Can you wait a few more days, Seafort? I don’t want to order you, but it would be in all our interests.”
“I’ll wait.” It didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Give it three more days, Seafort. That should be enough, no matter what the variation in our fusion drives. If they’re coming they’ll be here by then.”
“Aye aye, sir.” We said our good-byes and broke the connection. I watched his ship, barely visible against the backdrop of innumerable points of light, until he Fused and was gone.
I waited with impatience for our vigil to end, spending much of my time on the bridge. The morning after Captain Hall Fused, the Log listed Derek Carr with two demerits, issued by the first midshipman. I gripped my chair arm. I would allow five. No more. Then Philip Tyre was through.
That afternoon there was a knock on the bridge hatch. Philip Tyre, requesting permission to enter. I regarded him coldly. “Well?”
He stood at attention; I hadn’t released him. “Sir ...” His tone was determined. “I’d like you to cancel demerits issued in error.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, sir.” He blushed.
“To Mr. Carr, I presume?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What kind of error, Mr. Tyre?”
He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “An error in judgment, sir. Mine. Mr. Carr did not deserve any demerits.”
“Very well.” I was vastly relieved. “His demerits are canceled.”
“Thank—”
“You may have them instead.”
His relief was unabated, despite the hours of hard calisthenics I’d just consigned him to. “Thank you very much, Captain. Thank you! Am I dismissed?”
“Yes.” He wheeled for the door, but I thought better of sending him off on that note. “You showed good judgment this afternoon, Mr. Tyre. It will be noted.”
He broke into a shy smile. “Thank you, sir.” He left. After my watch some curious urge took me to the exercise room. I looked in; I wasn’t noticed. Philip Tyre was energetically working off a demerit. Derek Carr was accompanying him, the two chatting amiably while they exercised. I closed the hatch quietly. Would wonders never cease?
The next day I was on watch with Vax when a delegation of passengers asked to see me. I had Rafe Treadwell escort them to the bridge: Dr. Antonio, on behalf of the Passengers’ Council. Walter Dakko, Emily Valdez, and several others I hardly knew.
“Captain, we’ve paid for passage to Hope Nation on a passenger vessel. Instead we’re drifting, waiting for God knows what, in the middle of a battle zone. We’re civilians, all of us. It’s unfair to subject us to the risks of war.”
“We’re a U.N.N.S. Naval vessel,” I corrected him. “Part of the military forces of the United Nations, as is every U.N. ship.”
“Technically, perhaps. But you have over a hundred civilians aboard.”
“Technically?” I slammed my fist on the console. “You booked passage knowing we’re a military vessel.”
“We booked passage because it was the only way to get to Hope Nation.” Walter Dakko.
“And we just want to make sure we get there,” Dr. Antonio interjected. “Look, Captain, we know you carry weapons to protect the ship, and we’re grateful for that. But to wait here looking for trouble, when we could be on our way ...”
“Those are our orders.” My voice was stiff.
