“Yes, sir.” He looked straight ahead.
“You recall the unpleasantness we had last month?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s nothing compared to the unpleasantness I’m going to make now, Mr. Holser.” Vax had settled in well as second midshipman, but now I had to leave the wardroom, and given his temperament he’d have the other middies climbing the bulkheads in a week. That is, if I didn’t put the brakes on.
My voice was savage. “You will do hard calisthenics--I repeat, HARD calisthenics, for two hours every day until further notice. You will report to the watch officer in a fresh uniform for personal inspection every four hours, day and night.” He looked stricken. “You will submit a five-thousand-word report on the duties of the senior midshipman under Naval regulations and by ship’s custom. Acknowledge!”
“Orders received and understood, sir!” His expression bordered on panic.
I stood nose to nose with him, my voice growing louder.
“You may think that in the privacy of the wardroom you can revert to your old bullying ways, and I won’t know because the other middies won’t tell me. They don’t have to tell me, Mr. Holser. I was a middy yesterday. I know what to look for!” I waited for a response.
“Yes, sir!”
I shouted, “Mr. Holser, if you exercise brutality in the wardroom, I’ll cut your balls off! Do I make myself clear?”
“Aye aye, sir!” A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. I knew he didn’t take the last threat literally, but we’d both served aboard ship long enough to know the Captain’s enmity was the worst disaster that could befall a crewman. I was giving him a reminder of that.
“Very well. Dismissed. See that I have bars on my uniforms by morning.”
“Aye aye, sir!” He practically ran from the bridge. I made a mental note to ease up in a few days. The exercise wouldn’t harm him--Vax liked working out--but reporting for inspection every four hours grew brutal, as one’s sleep deficit accumulated. Once, in Academy, Sergeant Trammel had made me... I sighed, thrusting away the memory.
I roamed the bridge, unnerved by the grim silence. Never before had I stood watch entirely alone, and certainly not when I had no superior to call in case of emergency. I toyed with the sensors, examined the silent simulscreen, stared at pinpoints of starlight until my eyes ached. My legs were weary, but I was reluctant to sit just yet.
I examined the bridge safe, found it unlocked. The Captain’s laser pistol was within, as well as the keys to the munitions locker. As a precaution, I changed the combination.
Returning at last to my chair, I turned on the Log and thumbed it idly, back to the start of our voyage. I screened the orders from Admiralty, entered by Captain Haag ages ago. “You shall, with due regard for the safety of the ship, proceed on a course from Earthport Station to Ganymede Station... You shall sail in an expeditious manner by means of Fusion to Miningcamp, from there to Hope Nation, and thence to Detour... you shall take on such cargo as the Government there may... revictualing and refueling as you may find necessary...”I keyed off the Log.
Idly I thumbed through our cargo manifest. Machinery for the manufacture of medicines, tools and dies, freeze-stored vegetable seeds, catalogs and samples of the latest fashions from Earth, bottled air for Miningcamp... I closed my eyes, rocking gently in the Captain’s chair, its soft upholstery inviting.
“Permission to enter bridge, sir.” I woke abruptly. Alexi waited respectfully in the corridor. Had he seen? Lord God, I hoped not; sleeping on watch was a cardinal sin.
“Come in.” I got him settled. He’d have little to do other than watch the quiescent instruments, but like me, Alexi had never served a watch alone and was eager to begin. I myself was already glad to escape the tedium.
I headed east along the circumference corridor to the Captain’s cabin. No one was posted outside; Captain Haag had dispensed with the marine guard the first week of the voyage.
I quelled an urge to knock respectfully, and went in.
The cabin was breathtaking. It was over four times as large as our wardroom, at least eight meters by five. It held only one bunk, which made it seem even more grand. So much space, for only one person. And I was the person! Subtle dividers made areas of the cabin seem like separate rooms. In one corner*Was a hatch; I tried it. A head; the Captain actually had his own head and shower. I was stunned.
I felt guilty even thinking of living in such luxury, while midshipmen constantly rubbed shoulders in their tiny quarters.
My gear, what little there was of it, was already laid out in a dresser built into the bulkhead. Vax had been busy: my uniforms, new patches freshly sewn on the shoulders, were hung neatly in a closet area in the corner. A ship’s caller sat on the table by the bunk. Across from the bed were easy chairs, a desk chair, even a small conference table. Or dining table. I wasn’t sure which.
I sat uneasily, feeling an intruder though Captain Malstrom’s gear was nowhere to be seen. Captain Haag’s must long since be gone to storage. I wondered gloomily how soon my own would follow. My eyes roved the bulkheads.
Pictures; someone had made an effort to decorate. A safe was built into the bulkhead. It was locked. I made a note to find the combination.
I undressed and got into bed; the mattress was amazingly soft. I switched off the light. The room was very still. I twisted from one position to another, unable to sleep despite my exhaustion. My thoughts turned to what I had accomplished. In the course of my first day, I’d managed to alienate everyone whose goodwill I needed. The Chief. The Pilot.
The senior middy. A bad start, but I couldn’t figure out what I could have done better.
As I tossed restlessly in the soft bunk I realized what was troubling me. It was too quiet. I was lonely.
10
In the morning I felt ill at ease using the head alone, so accustomed had I become to the wardroom’s lack of privacy.
I was a bit apprehensive when a knock came on the hatch; custom approaching the force of law forbade anyone to disturb the Captain in his cabin. In an emergency, or if he’d left standing orders to be notified, the Captain was summoned by ship’s caller; if there was no emergency, he was not bothered.
All the crew knew that, and passengers were not allowed in the section of Level 1 that contained the bridge and the Captain’s quarters.
Cautiously, I opened the hatch. Ricardo Fuentes, the ship’s boy, waited in the corridor with a cloth-covered tray. He stepped around me to set it on my dining table. Then his shoulders came up and he stood rigidly at attention, arms stiffly at his sides, stomach sucked in tight.
I was grateful for the familiar face. “Hi, Ricky.”
“Good morning, Captain, sir!” His voice was high-pitched and shrill.
I peered beneath the cloth. Coffee, scrambled eggs, toast, juice. It appeared his visit was a regular morning routine.
“Thanks.”
Twelve-year-old Ricky stood stiff. “You’re welcome, sir!” Clearly, he wasn’t about to unbend.
“Dismissed, sailor.”
“Aye aye, sir!” The boy about-faced and marched out. I sighed. Had I begun to resemble an ogre? Did it come with the job? Pilot Haynes and Vax Holser were on the forenoon watch list. As I reached the bridge I opened my mouth to ask permission to enter. Old habits die hard. Feeling foolish, I walked in. Vax jumped to attention; the Pilot did so more slowly.
“Carry on.” They eased back in their chairs as I crossed to my new seat. Vax’s uniform, I noticed, was crisply ironed.
I glanced at the console. The readouts seemed in order; I knew Vax or the Pilot would tell me if they weren’t.
“Chief Engineer, report to the bridge.” I put down the caller. When Chief Me Andrews arrived I said, “Chief, Pilot, I’ve decided we will continue to Miningcamp and Hope Nation.” The Chief pursed his lips but said nothing.
“I don’t have to give you reasons, but I will. Simply: going on involves Fusing and docking maneuvers; so does going home. The risks are equal.