At last, he flagged down a tram, and within twenty cycles Defiant hove into view through the windscreen. Beyond loomed the mighty shapes of two Greyffin IV-class battle cruisers: Gwir Neithwr and Princess Sherraine, now that he had a chance to look. He smiled wryly to himself. No Carescrian Helmsmen aboard those proud beauties, he'd wager. Capital ships were still unchallenged bastion of the privileged. Oh, he'd visited a few of them. But once on board, his hosts always firmly gave him to understand-with great finesse, of course-that he was there only to look. The patronizing treatment he received on those magnificent ships still bothered him-made him feel cheap. For the thousandth time he shrugged aside me ugly harridan of resentment. All things would eventually change in the face of this war-as would ancient prejudices against people like Carescrians. The people of Greyffin IV's Empire needed every assistance they could get these days-from anyone who could help. And sooner or later, they would also have to ante up. He smiled to himself. He'd already had tremendous boosts from patrician officers like Regula Collingswood and Nik Ursis-as well as First Star Lord Beorn Wyrood. When the war was finally over, he trusted that these same patricians would make sure that justice was done....
Within the metacycle, he'd signed back aboard Defiant and treated himself to a long, luxurious shower. Soon afterward, he was comfortably situated in his own bunk again.
Perhaps, he thought as he dropped off to sleep, the controls of a battlecruiser weren't that far from his grasp. Like everything else in the Universe, all one needed was a bit of talent, a lot of hard work, and a measure of good luck-the last at exactly the proper time....
Even though he was free during most of the following watch cycle, Brim roused himself early and downloaded his mail only moments after the message center opened. He eagerly watched as header after header scrolled through his display, but among the usual solicitations for Academy class gifts, announcements, advertisements from uniform makers, and the like, only one was sourced "Margot Effer'wyck, Lt., I.F. @ Admiralty/Avalon." And it had been sent nearly a week ago.... Frowning, he opened it to the globular display. When Margot's face filled the screen, her eyes were tired and she looked... defeated, somehow.
"Wilf," she began softly. "I am just beginning to understand how dearly I love you-now that I must totally exclude you from my life for a time." She suddenly sniffed and wiped her nose-which had taken on a definitely red hue against her otherwise creamy white skin. She shook her bead. "I shall not make a third attempt to record these words without tears. That seems to be impossible today." She paused again while she wiped her nose....
Brim almost stopped the message before she could speak again; he could guess what was coming.
"With my marriage to Rogan only weeks away, dearest," she continued presently, "I can no longer continue our correspondence-at least until such time as I can somehow regain a semblance of my personal privacy." She shook her head angrily now. "My life is no longer my own," she said with a wry grimace. "Royalty pays dearly for its privileges, Wilf, and privacy is part of that price. I can no more compose a love message-especially the kind you expect, my spoiled lover-than I can fly a starship. I am reduced to finishing this in a secure conference room at work-during the brief interim between an audience with my future motherin-law, the Grand Duchess, and a meeting with broadcast representatives who will tell me how to act at my own wedding." She laughed softly. "But then, it's not really much of a wedding, my darling, is it? Not when the bride is totally in love with you...."
A chime rang, and she reached out past Brim's field of view. "Yes, I'm coming," she snapped angrily. "But I require another few moments to finish what I am doing, and you will wait. Do you understand?" She grimaced as she returned her gaze to the display. "I must go, now," she said hurriedly. "I have no idea when you will next hear from me, but the time will certainly be measured in months; perhaps even years." Her lip trembled for a moment,
"Meanwhile, dearest, please remember I love you-and only you." The chime sounded insistently. "That can never change, no matter what you may see or think you see." Then she shook her head. "Good-bye for now, Wilf-may the Universe watch over you and keep you safe until I am once more in your arms." Moments later, with chimes again ringing harshly in the background, the display went dark....
Numbly, Brim shut down his message system, then spent the remainder of his daylight wandering aimlessly through the huge Fleet base on foot without really seeing or caring for anything around him. To the end of his years, he could recall only muzzy, unconnected scenes from that dismal expedition into nowhere. When he finally did return to Defiant during the late afternoon, he buried himself in work until the last watch was over-afraid to occupy his mind with anything more sensitive than the business of being a Helmsman....
The following morning, Brim returned to the bridge early and-except for brief visits by Aram and Fritz Galen-toiled without serious interruption through the better part of the next three watches. Finally, rumblings from his stomach served as reminder that he hadn't eaten since the previous morning. Shaking his head, he looked up to discover sunset streaming through the Hyperscreens to paint the deserted consoles in shades of deep shadow and glowing amber-just as Defiant's Chairman interrupted the stillness. "Lieutenant Brim?" the voice inquired.
"Yes, Mr. Chairman?"
"Captain Collingswood requests that you join Lieutenant Ursis and Torpedoman Barbousse in her cabin as soon as practical."
"Thank you, Mr. Chairman," Brim said, walking off toward the companionway. His stomach could wait.
Ursis and Barbousse were waiting for him in the corridor. As usual, soft music was drifting from Collingswood's partially open door. Brim smiled to himself. She never seemed to be without music if she could help it. It fit, somehow.
Barbousse knocked politely.
"Come in and sit down, gentlemen," the Captain called out. "Don't stand on ceremony."
Brim followed the others through the door and took a chair at a comer of her cluttered oak desk. Collingswood wore the same threadbare gray sweater she was wearing years ago the day he reported aboard old Truculent, It still looked just as elegant as it did then. He supposed that the elegance of old gray sweaters on people like Regula Collingswood had a lot to do with what they called "class."
Thank you for coming at such short notice," she said, settling back in her chair and crossing her legs comfortably. "It was my intention to commend all three of you personally a long time before now, but the processes your interrogations set in motion the other night kept me rather more occupied than expected." She turned to materialize a globular display.
"At least by now I have reviewed your testimony sufficiently that I not need to bother anyone for still another personal recap of his part of the mission...." She frowned over her glasses at each of the Blue Capes in turn, then smiled and shook her head in apparent incredulity.
"Rather," she said presently, "it is my guess that each of you will be much more interested in a KA'PPA message that I received early this afternoon from the Admiralty. I'm afraid my display here is the only one on board that can decipher the special code; it's why I have asked you to come to my cabin. We can talk once you finish."
Brim nodded, then began to read:
K140981KANCCK
(TOP SECRET NOFORN COURTLAND]
FM: ADMKALTYCOMINT
TO: COLLINGSWOOD@CL.921:HAELIC
INFO: COMFLEETOPS