I slapped the hatch closed.
I gave him half an hour; that would be enough. When I motioned, he came in, pale but silent. I handed him his pants; gratefully he slipped into them. “Derek, Mr. Holser is going to be a real trial for you. Hang on. I’ll make you midshipman as soon as I think you qualify.”
“I understand.” His color was returning to normal.
I called Vax and the Chief as witnesses. I gave Derek the oath, there on the bridge, and entered it into the Log.
“He’s all yours, Vax. Show him the ropes.”
Vax gave a wolfish smile and slowly licked his chops. He rounded on Derek. “Cadet, we’re going to the wardroom.
I’ll show you your bunk. Being a cadet is easy. You will call anything that moves ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’, children included. And you will do everything any officer tells you, without exception.”
“Yes, sir,” Derek said meekly.
“It’s ‘aye aye, sir,’ and that’s two demerits. Ten demerits means the barrel.”
“Aye aye, sir!”
“No, that’s ‘yes, sir’. I didn’t give you an order, I told you a fact. Another two demerits.” Each would be worked off by two hours of hard calisthenics.
“Uh, yes, sir.” Derek began to look apprehensive.
I followed them down the corridor to the wardroom, feeling a bit sorry for Mr. Carr.
Vax put his hand on Derek’s shoulder as he steered the boy into the wardroom. “Derek, tell us about your sex life,” he purred. The hatch slid shut behind them.
I walked back to the bridge. I had four middies now. Well, three, and a cadet. Close.
16
“Lord God, today is May 14, 2195, on the U.N.S. Hiber-nia.We ask you to bless us, to bless our voyage, and to bring health and well-being to all aboard.”
“Amen.” We took our seats.
As I spooned my soup I counted my blessings. Our crew had settled back to normal. We remained in Fusion, riding the crest of the N-wave toward Hope Nation. The Chief and I investigated his artifact from time to time, in the quiet of the evenings. Alexi was working through a rigorous course of navigation under Pilot Haynes; I looked forward to the day he might make lieutenant.
On the other hand, we hadn’t dealt with Darla’s parameter glitch. Though I pressed the Pilot at least to investigate the state of her computational arrays, he argued that we should wait until we reached Hope Nation, where he was sure we’d find a more knowledgeable puterman. As long as we calculated our adjusted mass ourselves, Darla’s misprogrammed parameter was no hazard. I was uneasy, but wasn’t ready to force the issue.
Meanwhile, Derek Carr had vanished into the wardroom under the gentle tutelage of Vax Holser. As the Captain never visited the wardroom and a cadet was not allowed on the bridge, I had no way to determine how Derek was managing.
Occasionally I caught a glimpse of him hurrying down a corridor, immaculate in a cadet’s unmarked gray uniform, his hair cut short, hands and face scrubbed, wearing an anxious expression.
When he saw me he would snap to attention, at first in a slipshod manner. Within a week, his stomach was sucked tight, his shoulders thrown back, spine stiff, his pose perfect in every particular. How Vax taught him the physical drill so quickly, I was afraid to ask.
My responsibility was to leave them alone, and trust Vax to do his job. Derek was learning ship’s routine, Naval regs, cleanliness, discipline, and how to cope with a wardroom full of frisky boys all his seniors. That would be the hard part.
He would pull through or he wouldn’t, and I couldn’t help him.Nonetheless, I gave Vax one caution. “Those demerits you’re giving him--make sure he has a chance to work them off. He shouldn’t get up to ten. Not for a couple of months, anyway.”
“Aye aye, sir. That’s kind of how I figured.” I let them be.
At times I passed Amanda flirting and laughing with various young men among the passengers. If she saw me she gave no sign. I missed our confidences, our physical intimacy, our caring.
With the departure of Derek from the Captain’s table, I passed April with only two dinner companions. On the first of May the normal rotation brought a surprise; ten passengers had asked the purser to seat them at my table.
My siege was lifting.
I chose seven guests for the remaining places at my table. I now dined with a full complement, amid animated conversation.
But I had to sleep.
My cabin hatch wouldn’t stay fastened. I slapped it shut; it bulged open. I had to lean all my weight against it to force it closed. Something pushed back. I backed away, stumbling into the bulkhead behind me.
In the dark corridor beyond the ruptured hatch, something moved. Seaman Tuak shambled into the cabin, face purple, eyes bulging, rattling the cuffs that bound hands and feet. A blackened tongue protruded from torn tape covering his rotting mouth.
I cowered against the bulkhead. A cold, damp arm reached through the hull behind me, wrapped around my throat. Seaman Rogoff pulled himself into the cabin to hold me while Tuak came near.
I woke screaming. My sounds were barely audible whimpers. I staggered out of bed, fell into my chair, and rocked, hugging myself, until the corridors lightened with day.
I could think of only one way to deal with that. I buried myself in work, trying to exhaust myself so completely I wouldn’t fear sleep. I assigned myself two four-hour watches each day. I explored the entire ship, bow to stern, memorizing every compartment, all the storerooms, each of the airlocks.
I disconcerted Alexi and the Pilot by joining their navigation course; in the back of the room I quietly worked the problems Mr. Haynes gave the middy. Alexi solved them more quickly and more accurately, but I persevered until I improved.
At first, the Pilot was uncomfortable at my presence; a careless comment had already earned him a rebuke and a stinging punishment, and now I demanded that he correct my mistakes. After a while he found the balance between elaborate politeness and scorn, becoming an excellent teacher.
myself in work, trying to exhaust myself so completely I wouldn’t fear sleep. I assigned myself two four-hour watches each day. I explored the entire ship, bow to stem, memorizing every compartment, all the storerooms, each of the airlocks.
I disconcerted Alexi and the Pilot by joining their navigation course; in the back of the room I quietly worked the problems Mr. Haynes gave the middy. Alexi solved them more quickly and more accurately, but I persevered until I improved.
At first, the Pilot was uncomfortable at my presence; a careless comment had already earned him a rebuke and a stinging punishment, and now I demanded that he correct my mistakes. After a while he found the balance between elaborate politeness and scorn, becoming an excellent teacher.
At my insistence, Chief McAndrews loaned me holovids explaining the principles of fusion drives. They remained a mystery, no matter how hard I studied. I made the Chief review them with me, step by step, until even that phlegmatic man’s voice took on an edge.
I inspected all the nooks and crannies of the ship: engine room, the crew berths, the infirmary, the wardroom. There, with the midshipmen and cadet standing at rigid attention, I pretended to search for dust on a shelf or creases on a bunk, feeling for a few moments that I had wakened from a nightmare without end.
I was tempted to take my dreams to Dr. Uburu. Perhaps she could find grounds to relieve me on grounds of mental disability. I didn’t make the attempt because I knew my dreams were a sign of tension, not mental illness. I was afraid she would see through my cowardice.
I turned my attention to the one piece of work I’d been putting off. I called the Chief and the Pilot--away from the bridge, of course--to consider reprogramming Darla to eliminate her glitch.
Reluctantly, the Pilot sketched out our task. We’d have to strip away her attitudinal and conversational overlays, find the improper input for the adjusted mass parameter, and override it.
I demanded the tech manuals, glanced through them. They made the steps clear enough. Had I known how clear, I wouldn’t have allowed Mr. Haynes so long a delay. Still, I only parameter that’s fouled? When we display her inputs, we’ll have to check every one to be sure.”