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I leaned close.

He raised a hand and touched my cheek. His breathing was ragged. “You’ve been... a son to me. I never had another.” “Oh, God!” It was too much for me; I wept. He touched me again; his hand moved uncertainly in front of my face before it found me. “I’m dying,” he said, with wonder.

Hating myself, I said urgently, “Sir, do your duty! Tell Chief McAndrews and Dr. Uburu that Vax is a lieutenant.

Tell them.”

“My son,” he said, dropping his hand. He stopped breathing. I turned frantically to the Doctor but the Captain’s breath caught again in a ragged gasp. He stared at me, his face an unhealthy blue. Understanding slowly left his eyes and they closed.

Dr. Uburu started intravenous liquids. While we waited helplessly, they dripped into his arm in the age-old manner.

The Captain lay unconscious, his mouth ajar.

“Do something. With all your machinery, help him!” My words were a demand.

“I can’t!” she spat. “I can pump his heart for him; I can even replace it. I can oxygenate his blood just as his lungs do. I can purify his blood with dialysis. I can even replicate his liver. We’re talented, aren’t we? But I can’t do all those things at once. He’s dying! The poor man’s insides are rotten; he’s like an overripe melon about to split open. The melanoma’s everywhere.”

She stopped for breath, her fury nailing me to the bulkhead.

“He’s got it in his stomach, his liver, his lungs, his colon.

His sight is going from an optic tumor. It’s as bad as T can get. Sometimes--only once in a while, thank God--it grows so fast you can see it. Do something? DO SOMETHING?I can stay with him to wish him into Yahweh’s hands. That’s what 1 can do!” Her cheeks were wet.

“And I can let him go in peace and privacy.” Chief McAndrews got heavily to his feet. “Nick, stay with him. If he rallies he’ll sign it. Or he’ll tell Dr. Uburu as witness. There’s no use my staying.” He left.

“Vax, will you stay with me?”

Vax Holser, his pent-up emotions roiling, glared at me with such fury as I have never seen from another man. He twice opened his mouth to speak. Then he stalked out in a passion, slamming the hatch shut.

I stayed in the infirmary during evening mess, in the chair the Chief had vacated. The Captain’s breathing varied, sometimes regular and deep, sometimes ragged. Late in the evening Dr. Uburu slipped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. She introduced vapormeds into the oxygen mixture; I couldn’t tell if they helped. She sent the med tech to the galley for a tray for me. I ate in my chair, never taking my eyes from the still form in the bunk.

“I’ll watch him, Nicky,” she said after I began to doze.

“Go to bed.”

“Let me stay.” It was somewhere between a demand and a plea. Perhaps she understood from my eyes. She nodded.

She checked the alarms on the bedside monitors and retired to the anteroom. I dozed, came awake, and dozed again. The bright lights accented the stillness. Finally I curled up in the chair and slept.

I woke toward morning, to realize the labored sounds of his breathing had stopped. I called Dr. Uburu; she came and stood next to me by his still form under the clean white sheet.

“The alarms. Why didn’t they... “

“I turned them off.” She answered my look of betrayal.

“I could do nothing more for him. Except let him go in peace.”

Stunned, I sank back into the chair. I don’t know how long I sat there alone; I got up mechanically when I heard the change of watch after breakfast. I went out into the anteroom where Dr. Uburu waited.

She got to her feet. “I’m going to meet with the Chief and Pilot Haynes.” I didn’t answer.

I left the infirmary, followed the corridor to the wardroom, passing someone on the way. Sandy and Alexi were inside; Alexi, just off watch, was in his bed. Sandy stood as I entered.

“Out, both of you.” They scrambled to the hatch. I pulled off my jacket and lay on my bunk. My head spun, but sleep evaded me. I heard noises in the corridor. I tried to block them out, could not. I lay awake in a stupor.

Hours later Alexi knocked on the hatch. “Mr. Seafort--”

“Stay out until I give you permission to enter!”

“Aye aye, sir.” The hatch shut.

I buried my head in the pillow, hoping for tears. None came.

I awoke later in the day with an intense thirst. I got up, found my jacket, went to the head. As I slopped water from my hand to my mouth I studied my reflection in the mirror.

My hair was wild; there were hollows under my eyes. My expression was frightening.

I splashed cold water on my face and went back to the wardroom. I dressed in clean clothes and combed my hair.

Then I went below to the ship’s library on Level 2, where I signed out the holovid chips for the Naval Regulations and Code of Conduct, Revision of 2087. I took them back to the wardroom and sat on my bunk.

It took about twenty minutes to find what I was looking for.

“Section 121.2. The Captain of a vessel may relieve himself of command when disabled and unfit for duty by reason of mental illness or physical sickness or injury. Upon his certification of such action in the Log, his rank of Captain shall be suspended and command shall devolve on the nextranking line officer.”

I thumbed through the regs looking for other half-remembered sections. I flipped back and forth, carefully reading definitions and terms.

The hatch opened cautiously. Vax looked in, then entered.

We faced each other.

“He died before he signed it.” It was half statement, half question.

“Yes,” I said.

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know.” I saw no reason to hide it.

“Nicky--Mr. Seafort--”

“You can call me Nicky.”

“--you can’t captain the ship.”

I was silent.

“You can’t maneuver her. You can’t plot a course. You don’t understand the drives.”

“I know.”

“Step aside, Nicky. It’s just until we get back home.

They’ll send us out with new officers.”

“I’ve been thinking about doing that,” I said.

“For the ship’s safety. Please.”

“You’d run her?”

“Me, or the officers’ committee. Doc and the Chief and the Pilot. It doesn’t matter. They’re meeting right now, to figure what to do.”

“I understand.” I flipped off the holovid.

“You agree?”

“No. I understand.” I got up. “Vax, I wanted you to command. I begged him to sign your commission the first night he was ill.”

“I know. After how I treated you I can hardly look you in the eye.” He hesitated. “It’s just a fluke I wasn’t senior,”

he said bitterly. “Four months difference.”

“Yes.” I put the holovid in my pocket and went to the hatch. “I wish I’d gone with Captain Haag on the launch, Vax. If I could choose now, that’s where I’d be.”

“Don’t talk like that, Nick.”

“I’m desperate.” I went out.

No one but the med tech was at the infirmary. The Captain’s body was already in a cold locker. I tried the Doctor’s cabin, but no one answered. I went below along the circumference passage to the Chiefs quarters, and met the Pilot just coming out the hatch.

“I was on my way to get you.” He gestured me inside.

The Chiefs cabin was the same size as the one in which Lieutenant Malstrom and I had played chess. Dr. Uburu and the Chief were seated around a small table. I found a chair and joined them.

“Nick.” The Doctor’s tone was gentle. “Someone has to decide what to do.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“The crew needs to know who’s in charge. We have to get the ship back home. We have to reassure the passengers.

The Passengers’ Council voted unanimously to return to Earthport, and wants the officers’ committee to take control.”

Chief McAndrews hesitated, glanced at the others.

“There’s ambiguity in the regs as to whether a midshipman can assume the Captaincy. We think he can’t. And even if he can, we want you to remove yourself. And if you don’t, we’ll remove you for disability.”