He stopped as if cutting off something that he wanted to add.
"Anyhow, it's only eleven more days out maybe this will all blow over. But then again, this has been building for some time. Not just here but on board a lot of ships where men like MacKenzie, passed over for promotion and forgotten on long and distant patrols, are left in the backwaters but have to handle all the dirty situations with little thanks. So keep your ears open."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Zhing?"
The voice cut through the noise of the music. Zhing, startled, straightened up.
"Yes, Captain."
'To my cabin if you please. And Zhing, why the loud music? I can hear it all the way down the corridor."
Zhing, fear in his eyes, opened the door and peeked out. Silently he motioned for Justin to leave.
"Sorry, Captain. On my way, sir."
Justin slipped out into the hallway, afraid but not sure why. Zhing again motioned for Justin to hurry up.
"Gangway."
He turned, startled, as Petronovich came past moving quickly. Not bothering to hang around to see what was up, Justin went through the door into the lounge, leaving officer country behind.
The room was half-full. The portside watch had just stood down and dinner was over. The instant he came into the room he could sense the tension. Something was wrong it was the way the cadets were clustered into groups, talking in low whispers, some raising their heads to look about.
He saw Tanya and Madison sitting in a corner with a chessboard between them, but neither one was looking at the board. He drifted over to where Leonov and Smith were playing. Even though sitting in a chair didn't serve any real function in zero gravity, he settled into one anyhow. Sitting in space still survived, at least as a social custom.
Leonov looked up.
"So how did it go up there with the Ice Man?"
Justin looked around nervously. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."
Tanya laughed softly. "That's what everyone on board calls him."
"Don't ask. It's just getting weird. That's all." He figured it was best not to mention the conversation with Doctor Zhing.
Off in the far corner he saw Matt and several other cadets sitting, leaning forward and talking.
"Matt OK?"
"Oh, you missed it," Madison said.
"Missed what?"
"He and Wendell had another argument."
Justin groaned.
" Petronovich had to break it up."
"Let me guess, the separatists."
"Exactly. Those three Matt's sitting with. All are off worlders. Marissa Iivollen, Collin Bugniazet you remember he was captain of the team we beat at falcon flying during the summer and Abdul Amin. It got a little heated with Wendell and a couple of the others, those guys around him all shouting at each other."
Justin looking around the room and found that he could sort out everything. Matt and his followers in one comer, Wendell and his in the other corner, both sides whispering, pausing to shoot dark looks at each other while other groups of cadets, trying to stay neutral, gathered on the opposite side of the room. Justin thought the setting looked like a scene from a bad vid, a barroom in the old West, two rival groups sitting in opposite corners waiting for the showdown to begin.
"They're all on report," Madison announced. "I tell you, this one's gonna hit the fan when we get back to the Academy. Colson called Matt a cheap sailor. I have to give Matt credit he tried to laugh it off at first, but then Colson called him a damn liar. That set Matt off and the show started. There are gonna be a lotta black marks in files, and double duty."
"So that's why I passed Petronovich going forward in an all-fired hurry," Justin whispered.
"Yeah, off to squeal to the Captain, I bet," Madison said. "Uh-oh, looks like something brewing again."
Madison stood up and pushed off, floating across the room towards Mart's group. Marissa Livollen was starting to get up as if ready to go over to the opposite table.
"Maybe I should help," Justin remarked uneasily.
"Maybe you should stay out of it for the moment," Leonov said quietly, eyes fixed on the chessboard.
"Tanya, what the hell is going on with this ship?" Justin sighed. "This is nothing like I expected the service to be."
"Maybe that's why Thorsson sent us out. Give us a harsh taste of things. Hell, this could all be a hoax for all we know."
She leaned back and looked at Justin.
"Tough in there with the Captain, isn't it?"
"I think the guys a bit nuts," Justin whispered.
"No fooling, Sherlock."
Justin laughed softly. But her comment about Thorsson was troubling. Was this yet another elaborate test? An intricately designed simulation? There was no way of knowing if a solar storm was really on. That could be faked easily enough. Zhing could have just shown a few pictures taken from a storm that happened years ago, then had the transmit connection shut down from up front. That alone was test enough two weeks in an anti-radiation suit with the constant threat of getting fried would be a good examination of nerves. The dose meters could be doctored as well. Most of the cadets were already quietly complaining about how hot and sweaty the suits were. Justin shifted uncomfortably. The inner lining was supposed to wick off sweat, but after a day the system was all but swamped. Justin felt sticky all over, and as he shifted he could sense the unpleasant smells wafting up through his collar. Give us a week and some of them will be going nuts in these darn things, he thought.
And then there was the Captain. Did the Fleet really tolerate officers like him? He couldn't understand how any such man could pass his fitness reports. Maybe MacKenzie was in on the game. Act weird, put some pressure on and see how the cadets reacted to his eccentricities.
The thought was both calming and disquieting. In one sense it meant that none of this was truly real. It was just another test. Yet if that was so, then when would he know if things were real? And beyond that, what did it say about the Fleet, throwing plebe cadets into such a crazy game?
The thoughts started to get even more confusing. But then again, he thought, if it was real, then something was seriously wrong on this ship and with a service that allowed it to happen. Looking around the room, the tensions that were building were frightening when compared to the stressed but orderly calm aboard the Academy.
"Kind of an amusing thought, isn't it," Leonov said, her gaze still fixed on the chess pieces. "If this is a test, then our dear friend Mr. Colson isn't long for this service the way he picked that fight with Matt. Matt might be in a bit of hot water too, but at least he can say he was defending himself and not looking for a quarrel. Most people here, at least the ones not blinded by Colson's whispering, will defend Matt if a hearing is called."
"A hearing?"
"Sure. Do you think Thorsson's going to let one cadet call another one a traitor?"
"He said that? In public?"
"Sure did."
Justin looked over at Matt. Madison, with her usual laughing charm was busy defusing the situation. Justin realized that in many ways she was like Matt, easygoing, always ready for a good joke, someone who had that indefinable something that just naturally made most people Hke her. But there were certain types who took offense, or were secretly jealous of how easy it was for someone like Matt or Madison to make friends and be the center of attention.
The door back out to the lounge opened and everyone looked up. Petronovich stood glaring at the group.
"All right, show's over, everyone back to quarters. You all got studying to do."
"Guess the Tsar isn't going to make an appearance," Tanya whispered. "Come on, let's get our good Mr. Everett back to the room."