On his way from the auditorium, Brim searched the crowd for Claudia, but only located her in the sweltering courtyard as the redheaded Commodore ushered her into a sleek gray limousine skimmer. The two sped away in a cloud of blowing dust before Brim had a chance to even pay his respects.
The Carescrian smiled wryly to himself as he joined Wellington on her way across the dusty stones to the gravity-pool bus. In a way, finding Claudia with the handsome Commodore was almost a relief. There had been strong chemistry between himself and his beautiful host while they toured the warehouse together; he had no doubt about that. The discovery that she might well belong to someone else negated all the thorny questions concerning his feelings about her-they simply ceased to exist. And with Margot's marriage to LaKarn scheduled to take place only weeks hence, it would be very easy for him to become involved in something he might not easily shut down in the future. He shoved his hands into his pockets and concentrated on the Gunnery Officer's endless chatter. "Yeah,"
he agreed with a grin, "if I were building a bender, I'd certainly want a 155-mmi deck gun, too."
That evening, Brim joined most of Defiant's officers at a huge wardroom party hosted aboard I.F.S. Intrasigent, a heavy cruiser on a gravity pool in another sector of the base. He arrived quite late, after completing the long test sequence interrupted by the morning's briefing. As he walked across the brow from the tram stop, his face was caressed by fresh, late-evening sea breezes heavy with smells of salt, iodine, seaweed-and vast c'lenyts of free, open ocean.
"Take the third hatch to your right down the main companionway, sir," a rating said after examining Brim's ID. "You'll find the wardroom there."
"Thanks," Brim said with a nod. Instead, he continued some distance along the shadowed main deck to stand alone in the peaceful darkness beside a disruptor turret, looking out across Grand Harbor toward the open water beyond. Perhaps half a c'lenyt away, a floating beacon blinked twice... then twice again... then twice again.... Over the horizon, distant lightning flashed through a necklace of suddenly golden clouds. Muted sounds of laughter and music reached his ears from below-along with the tapping of water on the nearby breakwater. He felt himself relax while the soft darkness enfolded him like a cool, velvet cloak. No simulators or checkout routines in his immediate future-at least not for the next couple of metacycles. He smiled. He had plenty of time to join the party below. In wartime, one took solitude wherever-and whenever-one found it.
He peered into me blazing firmament: galactic center was nearly overhead at this hour.
There.... That bright cluster would be the Golden Triad of Asterious-any Helmsman worth his salt could find it. And somewhere nearby, dimmed by light from the great streaming stars, would be Avalon-and Margot.
His mind's eye conjured her face for him, the frowning smile and perpetually sleepy eyes.
He could almost feel her arms around his neck-smell the perfume she wore. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes in the darkness....
Abruptly, a giggle intruded on his reverie. He opened his eyes. A tall man in some sort of military uniform and a heavyset woman were walking arm-in-arm toward him in the darkness-and it took only a single glance to know what they had in mind. To his horror, they stopped just as they came abreast of his position while the woman threw back her head to drain a large goblet and toss it over the side, giggling as it bobbed on the blue glow of the gravity pool some fifty c'lenyts below. Then she hiked her skirt momentarily to slide something down over her ankles.
In the shadows, Brim felt his face bum with embarrassment when this time the man drew her skirt up-this time all the way past her waist. Even in the darkness, her fat thighs were startlingly white. He caught his breath. If he tried to leave, they'd think he was spying on them-and if he didn't, it was almost certain he would end up doing precisely that.
He ground his teeth as the man lowered his trousers; then the two wrapped each other in a writhing embrace against the bridge superstructure-arms and legs. In near panic, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on Defiant's instrument panels, reviewing each readout and switch in his mind....
For a while, his ploy worked-even when the moaning began. The woman's little squeal, however, defeated him at last. When he blinked his eyes open, they were together on their knees and... Brim almost fainted from sheer mortification.
But now, at least, their backs were toward him.
Knees shaking wildly with embarrassment, be tiptoed quickly past, stealing from shadow to shadow until the happy groans had long since faded into the darkness and he regained his proper companionway. He waited at the hatch for a few moments while he got control of his breathing. Then, shaking his bead, be made his way below decks into a clamorous atmosphere of Hogge'poa, perfume, sweat, liqueurs, and-of course-polish. His heart was still pounding. The night out there was for lovers, not dreamers. And tonight he clearly belonged to the latter....
Moments later, armed with a huge goblet of reasonably mellow Longish Meem, he pushed through the noisy, jostling crowd to where Ursis, Waldo, and Aram were in agitated conversation with Calhoun.
"I don' understand," Waldo was saying, slurring her words a little in her attempt to be heard above the surrounding hubbub. "You always tell me that you're in th' 'reclamation' business. Yet you go 'round making everybody else think you spend most of the time in space." She hiccupped with an embarrassed little smile. "Just how do you square all that, Cal?"
"Yeah," Aram piped in, "what is it you reclaim, anyway? Knowing the little I do about you, I can't imagine it's souls. Maybe you run a tug, or something?..." Suddenly he raised his eyebrows. "You weren't captain of a salvage ship, were you? One of your own, maybe?"
Calboun suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, but continued to smile as unconsciously he placed his arm around Waldo's waist, much to the latter's apparent satisfaction.
"Perhaps 'salvage' is a better term, noo," he admitted, gesturing modestly with a free hand-and ignoring the question of ownership completely.
"Space salvage?" the Bear remarked, holding a slim, tapered finger in the air, "but I have heard of such operations, would you believe?" He smiled thoughtfully while he sipped, his meem. "Perhaps," he continued after a moment, "in peacetime, our Executive Officer cleverly makes his living by what one might call 'presalvage' operations." He smiled and looked Calhoun in the eye. "Is this not a possibility, my Carescrian friend?"
For a millicltck, Calhoun glanced coldly at Brim, then looked Ursis directly in the face and narrowed his eyes. "I am sure ye are about to define this term 'presalvage' ye use," he said, drawing Waldo protectively closer to his side-clearly a special relationship had formed between the two. Brim felt a tinge of wistful jealousy. She had such beautiful legs....
Ursis stood his ground and calmly returned the man's steely gaze. "Normally," he explained, "one salvages a starship after it is disabled; only the most creative operators salvage them beforehand." He shrugged phlegmatically. "Clearly, dark caves whistle happy songs when a moon hides behind the clouds."
"Huh?" Waldo asked.
Abruptly, Calhoun's face reverted to a cynical smile. "One makes his living as the Universe permits, my friend," he stated quietly.
"I understand," Ursis replied, looking the man directly in the eye.
Calhoun nodded. "You know, Ursis, I actually think I believe you." Then he clicked his heels in a most formal manner. "Gentlemen," he said, "my compliments." Turning next to Waldo, he drew her even closer to his side. "I shaft endeavor to explain everything later this evening, my dear," he said, and quickly guided her off toward the companionway.