I held the crew in ranks until both bodies were removed from the chamber. I frantically repeated regs under my breath, to divert myself from vomiting in front of the entire ship’s company. “Crew Berth One, two steps forward! Right face! March! Mr. Vishinsky, escort the men to their quarters.”
One by one each group marched back to its berth. At the end only the officers and I remained. We looked at each other, no one wanting to speak. It had been a close call.
I sent Vax and Alexi to unlock the passenger cabins, and started back to the bridge. On the ladder from Level 2,1 had to stop and grip the rail, before anyone noticed the trembling of my legs. Chief McAndrews quietly put his hand under my arm and helped me up the stairs. I didn’t take notice; it would have been a capital offense.
That afternoon I ran a Battle Stations drill, followed by decompression drills. It made clear to the crew that I wasn’t afraid to give them orders, and at the same time it occupied their minds. I strove to occupy my own mind, but was unsuccessful.
That afternoon, I ordered the two bodies quietly ejected from the airlock.
Dinner hour came. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold down my food, but I knew it was necessary for me to appear in the dining hall. The passengers I met in the corridor were distant, their looks hostile.
I met Amanda outside the hatch. I went to her immediately, wanting to explain what I’d done.
She gave me no opportunity to speak. Her look passed right through me. I’d anticipated her anger, yet I stood disconcerted, staring at her receding back.
In the hall there was silence when I rose to give the Ship’s Prayer. Afterward, the only persons to say “Amen” were my officers, Mrs. Donhauser, and Derek Carr.
After forking food around my plate I retreated to the bridge.
Alexi shared the watch; for once he had the sense to stay quiet. I sat in my Captain’s chair, pinned in merciless silence, while Tuak’s purple face was again hauled up to the rim of the shaft. His sightless stare was directed solely at me.
The caller buzzed. “Pilot Haynes reporting, sir. Will we Fuse tonight?”
“No. In the morning.” The Pilot had said he wasn’t yet ready to tackle Darla’s reprogramming, and in my present state I didn’t trust myself to do the manual calculations.
“Aye aye, sir.”
At midnight I turned over the watch to Vax and Alexi and started back to my cabin. I stumbled with weariness, dreading the solitude. I stripped off my jacket, undid my tie, unbuttoned my shirt.
A knock at the hatch. I opened, half-dressed. Chief McAndrews. With him was Dr. Uburu.
She held a flask and two glasses. “This is for medicinal use. As medical officer I direct you to take it. The Chief will help administer the prescription.” She handed her wares to the Chief and departed.
The Chief met my eye, impassive. I sighed. “Come in.”
“Thank you, Captain.” His tone was formal.
I went to the safe and got out his pipe and the canister.
“Go ahead. I order you to light it.” I sniffed at the flask.
Some kind of whiskey. I poured two glasses half full.
I’d learned to drink after Academy, on my first leave. I drank because we all did, at one time or another. I didn’t dislike it; I didn’t much enjoy it either. Tonight, I was a drinker. I downed half my glass with the first swallow, finished the rest a moment after. Wordlessly, the Chief poured more.
In the haze of the smoking artifact we sat, mostly in silence, sipping at our drinks. I told him about my visit to the holds, earlier in the day. I explained how I felt when I slapped the frightened sailor’s face. I told him about Father. He listened, he nodded, sometimes he prompted. Occasionally he told an anecdote of his own.
My mood eased as the evening passed. Our commiseration grew into a discussion, then finally a wake. Afterward I recalled my voice, oddly loud. I remembered standing to go to the head, the wall rushing up to smash me in the face, and the Chief’s steadying arm.
I couldn’t quite recall what followed, though I had a dim recollection of the Chief pulling off my shoes, loosening my belt. I seemed to recall someone’s voice, very silly.
“Thank you, Chiefie. What a nice name for a grand man, aye, Chiefie?” Someone giggled. Then I slept.
The next morning we Fused, after laborious calculations repeated over and over on my demand. They were not made any easier by my stupendous headache. Vax said something, his voice too loud. I snarled, but he didn’t seem to mind. By the following day I had settled down, even thinking to make amends to Vax with extra cordiality when he left watch.
“Going to bunk down, Mr. Holser?”
“No, sir. I’m off to the exercise room.”
“I should have known. Taking some middies with you?”
“No, sir, I’m meeting Mr. Carr.” I raised an eyebrow.
“He apologized and asked if he could resume, sir. We’ve been exercising together four days now.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, sir. Yesterday we went from an hour to two hours.
Is that all, sir?”
“Carry on.” Interesting. I thought I knew what would come next. I only wondered when.
The week passed uneventfully. The crew absorbed its graphic lesson in discipline and steadied down to routine. I saw no sullenness, no insubordination. The unfortunate sailor who had glared at Alexi was fined and given extra duties for a month. Mr. Herney, pathetically grateful for his reprieve, waited out his time in the brig.
Amanda listened impassively to my apology. She let me explain my reasoning. Then she turned away without a word.
I resolved to let her be. As Captain I could not force myself on a passenger.
It was a few days after, as dinner ended, that the overture came.
I looked at my watch. “Thank you for an interesting evening. Mrs. Donhauser, Mr. Kaa Loa, Mr. Carr.” I stood to take my leave.
Derek stood also. “Sir, may I speak with you privately, when it’s convenient?”
“It will be convenient on the bridge in about an hour.”
“Thank you, sir.” He waited politely for me to leave.
I was sitting at the console when the knock came. Sandy, escorting Mr. Carr. As a passenger, Derek couldn’t approach the bridge on his own.
I swiveled to face the hatch. Derek came in hesitantly, carrying a holovid. He took in the complexity of the instruments and screens, and seemed impressed. “Thank you for allowing me here.”
“What did you want, Mr. Carr?” My tone was cool.
He eyed me uncertainly, standing in front of my chair like an errant schoolboy. “Captain Seafort, I was furious when you said I couldn’t handle life as a midshipman. In our family we’ve assumed we could do what we set our minds to. Sir, I think you’re wrong.”
I was impassive. Within, a faint glimmer of hope stirred.
“Captain, I can be a midshipman. I know saying it isn’t enough, so I’ve tried to show you. No discipline? Until now I’ve never called anyone ‘sir’ in my life, including my father.
I call you ‘sir’ now. I’ll keep doing it. All I want is for you to have an open mind. Not to prejudge me. Please... sir.”
He had my full attention. “Go on.”
“I took geometry and trig in school, but no calculus. You didn’t believe me when I said I could learn it. Look at this, please.” He offered me the holovid. I flipped it on.
“The ship’s library had a calculus text. I’ve done all the problems in Chapter One, and most of Chapter Two. I understand differential equations. The differential of velocity with respect to time is acceleration. The differential of displacement with respect to time is velocity.”
Not bad at all, for a beginner without an instructor.
“You’ve made a lot of progress, Mr. Carr. Why?”
“Nobody ever told me I’m not good enough, Captain. I want you to know I am.”
“So you put yourself under discipline.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you like it?”
“I loathe it!” His vehemence startled me. “I hate abasing myself! I hate it!” He swallowed. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop, sir. I can do what I set out to do!”