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"Sir, Moby Dick triumphed. He killed his nemesis, he destroyed the Pequod and all aboard save one. Would it not have been better for Ahab to wait until there was a more suitable time to act?"

MacKenzie walked up to Justin and smiled.

"You're playing a game with me, Mr. Bell. You are trying to be Starbuck, counseling caution. Don't play a game you do not understand."

"No, sir."

"Now what do you want?"

Justin suddenly realized that coming into this room was an act of pure impulse. He had not prepared in his mind exactly what he would say.

"Sir, concerning the executions."

"Execution," Zhing interrupted, holding up his hand.

"Sir?"

"The Captain has agreed to execute only the ringleader of the conspiracy. The others will be held for trial upon arrival at a base."

"You mean Matt alone will be executed."

Zhing nodded, eyes darting back and forth. "It's a fair compromise," he said hurriedly, as if to convince himself he had done the right thing. "Besides, Cadet Everett did strike the Captain, a capital offense in a time of emergency or military action."

"Oh, the good doctor argued long and hard for sparing all of them," MacKenzie interjected. "The humanitarianism of the physician, that was it, wasn't it, Doctor?"

Zhing, obviously beaten, lowered his head and looked back over his shoulder at MacKenzie.

"I still think we should wait for this boy as well, sir," he said quietly.

"No!" MacKenzie snapped, slamming a balled fist into the palm of his hand. "When this ship arrives at the base with a conspirator executed it will send a clear message across the system that the days of tolerance for traitors is over. The gesture of sparing the others for later trial is a weakness I regret, but I'll agree to it for your vote, Doctor, to have this traitor receive his immediate reward."

Zhing looked back at Justin in resignation. He could sense what Zhing would say, that in order to spare the other eight he was forced to agree to the death of one.

"Sir, I was informed that Flight Lieutenant Hemenez has been relieved?" Justin asked.

"She has been relieved," MacKenzie replied, "and that is no further concern of yours. Our brave Lieutenant Lewis can handle the ship well enough on his own. I've promoted Senior Cadet Petronovich to fill Hemenez's place."

As Justin looked at MacKenzie he knew that any appeal, any attempt at logic was beyond hope.

"So why are you here, Cadet?"

"Sir. May I have permission to say good-bye to Cadet Everett?"

"He is no longer a cadet," MacKenzie snapped, "I have stripped him of his rank in the service. But yes, you may see the prisoner. You can tell him of the sentence which will be carried out at morning muster, 0700 ship time."

'They don't know? There hasn't been a formal sentencing?" Justin asked in surprise.

"No need for that," MacKenzie replied. "So you can tell him."

Justin looked at the chronometer on MacKenzies computer screen. Just over seven hours to go.

"Thank you, sir."

" Bell."

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't do or say anything foolish. So far you have been spared in spite of some indications casting doubt upon your loyalty."

Again Justin could see the warning in Zhing's eyes. So Colson had tried to drag him into the net. It was to be expected, because he had witnessed most of the encounters.

"Sir, my loyalty to the service has always been foremost in my mind," Justin replied.

"And to me?"

"I am always loyal to the captain of the ship," Justin announced, not adding his own inner question that wondered who indeed should be captain of this ship.

"You're dismissed, Bell. You have ten minutes with the condemned."

Justin backed out of the room, trying to keep from breaking down into a bitter denouncement.

He went down the corridor and turned right by the door leading into the lounge. The stairs up to the flight deck were now on his right, and to his surprise he saw Colson coming down. Colson froze, his eyes darting back and forth nervously.

"I guess you heard," Colson finally said when Justin refused to move aside.

Justin nodded, wondering if a computer link in the corridor might be on.

"Look, Bell," Colson began, and then his eyes lowered.

Justin studied his face. It was pale, drawn, eyes sunken from lack of sleep, streaks of sweat bathing his forehead. Some of it was obviously the strain of being in the suit, and Justin realized that the days of lugging the bulky anti-radiation gear around must be taking a toll. He could feel it himself the increasing sense of claustrophobia, the screaming desire to tear the damn thing off and just run naked, to have a cool, soothing shower and then clean sheets to crawl between. He knew it was setting the entire crew on edge. But the stress in Colson was far more than that.

"Having second thoughts now?" Justin whispered.

Colson looked back up, trying to hold Justin with his gaze. " Everett went too far."

"So far that he deserves to die?"

"That's out of my hands now."

"No, it's not," Justin hissed. "It started with you. You can go back to the Captain, tell the truth, and save Matt's life. Whatever happened between you and him doesn't deserve death."

"He's a traitor," Colson declared, but the old sharp edge to his voice was gone.

Justin drew closer and dropped his voice to a barely heard whisper. "If there's a traitor here, a traitor to the traditions of the Academy, it's you, Wendell."

He wanted to leave it at that, but for Matt's sake he knew he couldn't.

"You can still change that, retrieve your honor and your good standing with your shipmates. Tell the truth, save Matt, and you would deserve this far more than I ever did," and as he spoke Justin pointed to the life-saving stripe above his left breast pocket. "Just tell the truth, Wendell, that would be an act of heroism and bravery reflecting the highest traditions of the Academy."

Colson looked down at the coveted award and for a brief instant there was a look of sadness and longing on his face. Justin actually felt a moment of pity, wondering what inner turmoil must be tearing Colson apart. Surely there had to be a sense of guilt and fear screaming inside of him.

"Mr. Colson?"

The voice on Colson's commlink tab startled him.

Colson pressed the tab.

"Sir?"

"Where are you, Colson?"

"Coming off the flight deck, sir."

"Report to me in five minutes, Wendell."

"Yes, sir," and Colson punched the tab, shutting it off.

"I have to go."

"You can go in there and straighten this problem out," Justin begged as he reached out and grabbed Wendell by the arm.

Wendell looked down at Justin's hand and shook it free. He hesitated for an instant then shook his head.

" Its beyond that now," Colson said. "The Captain has made up his mind and it's final."

"And you gave him the ammunition to do it with."

"I did my duty."

"A line so many have hidden behind," Justin hissed, and instantly regretted his words. He had to use persuasion, an appeal to a higher sense of honor, not condemnation.

Colson drew himself up and started to shoulder his way forward.

"You're in my way, the Captain wants me."

"Wendell, please."

The smile returned and Justin knew he had lost.

"I did do my duty. Thorsson would never see it that way, but I wonder if he'll be in any position to object after all of this is over. MacKenzies right and I know there are others out there who will agree. And don't forget, Bell, my family will back me up, so if I were you I'd find a safe place to hide."

A spasm of rage swelled in Justin and Colson quickly slipped past. For an instant Justin wanted to reach out and grab him, to somehow beat the truth out of him, but he knew it would be useless.