“Prepare new coordinates, Pilot,” I said. “Cadet, you also.” At least I’d get to watch Derek sweat over the console, as I’d once done under Captain Haag’s disapproving eye.
To my chagrin, Derek ran through the complicated exercise without error. His figures agreed with the Pilot’s to four decimals. A raw recruit, faster than I was. Muttering under my breath, I worked through the figures, confirming each step for myself. This time no one commented on my delay.
“Proceed.”
The Pilot entered the coordinates. “Received and understood, Captain,” Darla said.
“Chief Engineer, Fuse, please.”
“Aye aye, sir. Fusion drive is... on.” The screens darkened.
“Oh, it was beautiful!” Paula Treadwell stood entranced, her feet riveted to the spot in which she had been placed.
Her brother swallowed. A few of the vanished stars remained in his eyes. “I didn’t know it was so... wonderful.”
His voice was soft. His eye flickered around the bridge. “I wish I could work here, running the ship.”
“Me too.” Paula looked reflective. “Captain, does Miningcamp have a recruiting station?”
I laughed. “Only I could sign you up. No, don’t even bother asking.”
“Why not, sir?” Rafe.
It was getting out of hand. “Because you’re a couple of joeykids and we already have four midshipmen.”
“We’re both good at math, you know,” Rafe said. “Better than you think.”
“That’s enough, you two. Dismissed. Cadet, take them down to Level 2.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Derek’s voice was strong and confident.
He saluted. “Come with me, please.” He ushered them from the bridge.
I turned to Vax. “Well?”
“Yes, sir. He’s ready. I asked him for fifty push-ups yesterday. He gave me sixty.”
“That’s an old trick. Sandy or Alexi could have told him.”
“Yes, sir. He keeps his bunk spotless. When I give him one chapter to study, he reads two. I did the thing with the heat last week. After a while he was getting up voluntarily to check it before I asked him.”
“Very well. Tell him he’s appointed midshipman one week from today. Give him a few days to look forward to it.”
“Aye aye, sir.” After a moment he asked, “What about Last Night, sir?”
“Within reason, Vax. Within reason.” Traditionally, on a cadet’s last night, the upperclassmen hazed him unmercifully to remind him how lucky he was to graduate to a midshipman.
The harassment was followed by a party by which the middies accepted the cadet as one of their own. I made a note to send a flask from the infirmary to the wardroom.
Vax’s voice was tentative. “If you don’t mind I’d like to go easy on him, sir. He’s had enough.”
“Very well.” Vax, taking pity on a cadet? Times had changed.
19
I got out of bed and made myself ready for the day. It was my eighteenth birthday, but I was the only one who knew. I toasted myself with a cup of coffee, then sauntered to the bridge.
I took my seat, prepared to Defuse.
“Engine room ready for Defuse, sir. Control passed to bridge.”
“Passed to bridge, aye aye.” I ran my finger down the screen, Defusing for the first time in inhabited territory. The simulscreen burst into light. A dull red star glowed, brighter than the rest. Somewhere nearby floated Miningcamp, fourth of five dead planets orbiting a failing sun.
“Clear of encroachments, sir.”
“Very well, Mr. Tamarov.” I thumbed the caller. “Comm room, signal to Miningcamp Station.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Our radionics had been useless while we’d been interstellar; even if we Defused to transmit, our signal could travel no faster than the speed of light and we would outrun our broadcast. But now we were within Miningcamp system, on auxiliary power. Our messages would reach the orbiting station in seconds.
Our outgoing signal repeated itself endlessly, on standard approach frequency. “U.N.S. Hiberniato Miningcamp Station, acknowledge. U.N.S. Hiberniato Miningcamp Station, acknowledge.”
Long minutes passed.
“Miningcamp Station to Hibernia.Where are you?” The voice was sharp, with an undertone of anxiety.
I picked up the caller. “Hibernia.We’re approaching on auxiliary power from sector 13, coordinates 43, 65, 220.
Approximately one day’s sail.”
A dozen seconds passed. “What’s going on, Hibernia?”That was not how communications were passed, by the book. “Identify yourself, Miningcamp Station. Your question is not understood.”
A longer pause. After half a minute the voice came back.
“General Friedreich Kail, U.N.A.F.” That was as it should be; Miningcamp was run by the army’s Administrative Service. “The November barge never showed up,” he added.
“And Telstarwas due from Hope Nation January 12. She didn’t come either. What’s going on?”
No wonder General Kail was nervous. Unlike Hope Nation, a planet with breathable air and fertile ground, Miningcamp was a cold, airless island whose inhabitants depended on interstellar deliveries of air, food, and supplies.
Miningcamp’s environment was too primitive, its population too large for recycling to sustain them indefinitely. The miners and their administrators could only scan the dark skies for the ships upon which they depended. Without them they would perish.
The ore barges, great hulks manned by skeleton crews, arrived at intervals from Earth or Hope Nation, to carry away the metals mined during the past months. A series of barges was always in the Fusion pipeline between Miningcamp and Earth; the barges’ immense capacity made them far slower than Hibernia.Because they sometimes docked over Hope Nation to exchange crews before leaving again for Miningcamp, the barges weren’t always on schedule; engine problems, sickness, or other problems could delay them. But an eight-month lapse was unusual.
The nonappearance of Telstar,another ship of the line on the Hope Nation-Earth route, was also disturbing. I shivered, picturing Celestinadrifting abandoned in space.
I said, “I have no idea why your supplies were delayed, General. The ore ships are still coming out of the pipeline back home.”
“When did you leave Earth, Captain Haag?”
“Captain Haag is dead. I’m Captain Seafort.” The title was still awkward on my tongue. “We left Earthport Station Sept. 23, 2194.”
“We’ve been a long while without supplies. Can you take some of us off?” The voice was strained.
“How many?”
“One hundred forty-five.”
“Negative. But I have supplies for you, and I’ll be back from Hope Nation with more in a year’s time.”.
“We need evacuation, Captain. Your supplies won’t last a year.”
“There are more barges and supply ships in the pipeline from Hope Nation. In the meantime I’m delivering air, energy, and materials.”
Another long pause. Finally the voice resumed. “Very well. We’d still like you to evacuate some of us, if you can.
Relieve the pressure on our recyclers. We’ll prepare to dock you.”
“Affirmative.” I signed off.
Over the next two watches the ship remained on a steady course for rendezvous with Miningcamp Station. I called up Darla’s simulations of the station one more time, reviewing its design. The next morning, about ten hours out, General Kail contacted me again, asking how many men I could evacuate. I temporized; I wanted to hear more about their problems before I agreed to crowd aboard more passengers.
I understood the strain of the miners’ lonely vigil. Upheaval on Earth, disaster on Luna, any of a dozen causes could strand them far from home with little chance of survival. Miners, recruited from the dregs of society, were sent out for one fiveyear shift and no longer. The pressure on the administrators must be nerve-wracking; they had to deal not only with their own anxieties but their surly and sullen miners as well.