One evening when Sandy and Alexi went below I put Vax at attention in the center of the wardroom. I let him stand there for an hour while I read my holovid. Then I said quietly, “Do you want me to let up, Vax?”
He took a long time to think about it. Finally he said, “Yes, Mr. Seafort, I do.”
I sent him to his bunk to lie down. He lay propped on one elbow listening. “I expect you to be an officer and a gentleman. Especially a gentleman. I expect you to act in the wardroom’s best interest and in mine. To be pleasant to all of us.
To lay off hazing except by my direct order. To mind your own business, and nobody else’s. To support me in my duties.
When you’re prepared to do every one of those things, Holser, then I’ll let up. Not before.” I let him think about that. I went back to my holovid.
A half hour later he spoke up. “I’m prepared, Mr. Seafort.”
“What’s that?” I hadn’t expected a capitulation.
“I’m prepared. To do all the things you said.” I knew he meant it. Holser was true to his word. I could count on it.
I nodded. “Very well.”
When Alexi and Sandy came back I lined all three of them against the partition. “What went on in the wardroom before is over,” I said. “You’re to forget it or ignore it. From now on you will act in a spirit of friendly cooperation. There will be no hazing, no discipline unless I dispense it. You will each shake hands with each other, and with me, to establish the attitude in which we’ll carry out our duties henceforth. That is all.” We shook hands all around.
The wardroom was mine.
7
Two nights later, Amanda and I made love for the first time. She was not my first woman, but she was almost my first. We gently and lovingly practiced the arts I knew, and I learned from her skills I had not known.
I was astonished at how much I needed her closeness. I thought I’d learned to do without tenderness, touching, caring, at least while on ship. I couldn’t go away from her, our first night. I stayed in her cabin, cupped around her warm and pleasing body, drinking her intimacy like wine. In the morning we kissed and parted, both shy from our newfound vulnerability.
I went about my duties in a daze, thinking more of my times off watch than my responsibilities on, until even the Pilot became aware and made a wondering remark. I snapped my attention back to my job. It would be a long, slow voyage.
There was time for everything.
A few days later I came back from a cozy evening in Amanda’s cabin and was peeling off my jacket when Captain Malstrom’s voice burst from the wardroom caller. “Mr. Seafort, Mr. Holser, to the bridge! Flank!” Vax and I exchanged startled glances. We sprinted to the ladder.
The Captain waited impatiently in the bridge hatchway.
“Hurry!” He shoved us inside and slapped the control. The hatch snapped shut. “There’s a battle in crew berth three.
Chief Petty Officer’s been hit on the head. I don’t know how many are in the riot, or what it’s about.”
I gaped. The Captain paid no heed. “Mr. Holser, go to berths one and two and seal the hatches. Confine all seamen to quarters. Nick, meet the master-at-arms at the munitions locker. Stun guns and gas. Make sure the seamen with him are reliable before you open the locker. Stop the righting.
Separate the men, brig the rioters. Take these!” He snapped open the bridge safe and handed me a laser pistol and the locker keys. “I’ll hold the bridge. Move!” He slapped open the hatch.
“Aye aye, sir!” We left on the double. Vax ran down the ladder to berths one and two while I headed forward to the armament locker.
I found the master-at-arms looming over two nervous seamen, a billy clenched in his hands. He was grim. “These two will do,” he said.
“Names?”
The first sailor stepped forward. “Gunner’s Mate Edwards, sir.” She saluted. The other said, “Machinist’s Mate Tsai Ting, sir.” They both came to attention.
“At ease.” I opened the locker. Master-at-arms Vishinsky’s choices were dependable; I would stake my life on it.
In his outrage he’d have but one goaclass="underline" to restore order and get his hands on the miscreants.
I grabbed four sleek stun guns and handed them around. I snatched a handful of gas grenades, thrust them at Ms. Edwards. The locker safely shut, I loped toward the ladder, the others at my heels. I charged down to Level 2, ran around the ladder well, and dived down toward the lowest level. At Level 3 I dashed along the gray-walled corridor toward the crew berths. Around the bend, a crowd of seamen milled outside a hatchway, pushing and shoving for a better view.
“Stand to, all of you!” My voice was pitched higher than I’d have liked. “Attention!” A few in the back realized an officer was present and stiffened. Vishinsky waded in, billy club jabbing, stunner ready in his left hand. In moments he had the throng separated, lining the bulkheads to either side.
I gabbled, “Edwards, draw your weapon! You sailors, stand at attention! Ting, Edwards, stun any man who moves!”
I swung back and forth, calmed slightly as I realized the situation in the corridor was under control.
From inside the berth, shouts and the sounds of riot.
“Let’s go!” I charged at the hatch.
Mr. Vishinsky hauled me back, nearly hurling me to the deck. “Easy, sir.” For a moment his eye held mine. He cautiously poked his head into the hatch, stunner ready. After peering both directions, he stepped through.
I followed, abashed. Inside, about a dozen seamen were slugging it out. Chief Petty Officer Terrill lay across a bunk, blood oozing from his scalp. Other sailors lay on the deck, out of combat. Chairs, bunks, duffels were strewn in wild disarray. The air smelled of sweat and close confinement.
Vishinsky took a deep breath.’ ‘NOW HEAR THIS! STAND TO, EVERY ONE OF YOU!”His roar filled the room. Its sheer force brought a momentary lull in the melee. “DROP YOUR HANDS, YOU LOW-LIFE CRUDS! STAND AT ATTENTION!”I wanted to cover my ears. He was impressive.
Most of the combatants began to disengage. They looked about, as if dazed, and brought themselves to attention. I covered them with my stunner. Four men ignored the masterat-arms, continued to hammer each other.
Coolly, Vishinsky stepped up to the first pair and pressed his stunner to one fighter’s back. His finger twitched. The seaman dropped like a stone. His sparring partner aimed a wild swing at the master-at-arms. Vishinsky fired again. His assailant fell backward across a bunk, toppled to the deck.
I watched openmouthed as Vishinsky sauntered to the last two combatants. He pressed his gun to one man’s shoulder and fired. The sailor went down. His opponent backed away, raising his hands high as he sucked at air in ragged gasps.
Vishinsky motioned him to stand with the others. As the man turned to go, the Master kicked him in the behind. The sailor staggered.
A thud, from the corridor. I looked out. A seaman was stretched on the deck, unconscious. “He moved, sir.” Edwards swallowed.
“Very well.” I spoke as calmly as I could. Now what? Not sure what else to do, I ordered all the sailors to the outer side of the corridor and bade them sit on the deck, hands on their knees. “Keep your stunner on them, Edwards.” I sent Ting inside the berth to cover the remaining seamen.
I dialed the bridge from the caller on the bulkhead. “Mr.
Seafort reporting, sir. The riot is over. We’ll need the Doctor for a few of them. At least a dozen were fighting.”
“What in the Lord’s name started it?” I heard the relief in Captain Malstrom’s voice.
“I don’t know yet, sir.”
“I’ll send Chief McAndrews to help sort it out. Stand easy.”
When the Chief arrived, he unsealed crew berth one and picked six reliable seamen. He’d brought cuffs and leg irons; within a few minutes I was able to collect the stunners and grenades and run them up to the arms locker. When I got back to the crew berth, the Chief and the master-at-arms were sorting through the mess on the deck, tossing belongings aside as they went.