I felt for my wallet. On this planet I was a greenhorn. I had no idea where I was going or how to get there but I assumed my U.N. currency would solve the problem. “How do I get to Admiralty House?”
“Well... “ The nurse squinted into the bright afternoon sunlight. “You could walk over to that terminal building there, go through to the other side, and rent an electricar. If they have one left, that is, there’s only seven. Then you turn left at the end of the drive, go to the first light, and turn left again and go two blocks.”
“Thanks.” I started to walk away.
“Or you could walk across the runway to that building over there. That’s Admiralty House.” He gestured to a twostory building seventy yards away.
“Oh.” I felt foolish. Then I grinned in appreciation; he must have perfected his routine on a lot of novices. “Thanks again.” I started across the runway, holovid in hand.
Now I wished I’d chosen to wear my dress whites, but I realized I was being silly. Stevin Johanson, Admiral Commanding at Hope Nation Base, wasn’t about to be impressed by dress whites adorning a fumbling ex-midshipman.
An iron fence surrounded the large cement block structure.
I unlatched the gate; a well-worn path across the unmowed yard led me to the front of the building. The winged-anchor Naval emblem and the words “United Nations Naval Service / Admiralty House” greeted me from a brass plaque anchored to the porch.post.
Had the brass plate been smelted here, or had they shipped the sign across light-years of emptiness to add majesty to the facade of colonial Naval headquarters? At the tall wooden doors with glass inserts at the top of the porch steps, I tucked at the corners of my uniform and brushed my hands through my hair. I took a deep breath, and went in.
A young man in shore whites was dictating into a puter at a console in the lobby. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Nicholas Seafort, Hibernia,reporting to Admiral Johanson.”
“Oh, yes, we were expecting you; General Tho called ahead. Captain Forbee will see you now.” He led me up redcarpeted stairs, along a hall to an office with open windows overlooking the sunny field. “Captain Seafort, sir.”
I came to attention. “Nicholas Seafort reporting, sir. Senior officer aboard Hibernia.”The young Captain behind the desk stood quickly and saluted. He squinted from weak, puzzled eyes. A youngish man, who’d started running to fat. “Shall we stand down, then?” It was an odd way to release me, but perhaps colonial customs were different. We relaxed. He indicated a seat.
“Thank you. Will I be reporting to you or directly to Admiral Johanson?”
He gave me a sad smile. “Admiral Johanson died in the epidemic.”
“Died, sir?” I sat. So much death...
“He caught the virus. One day he just dropped, like everyone else who had it.”
“Good Lord!” I could think of nothing else to say.
“Yes.” He looked unhappy. “So I’ve been running the Naval station. I sent word on the last ship out. It’ll be two years before his replacement arrives.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll report to you. I’m sorry I’m not better organized, but most of it is in the Log.” Afraid he’d stop me before I could get the whole sordid tale off my chest, I let my words tumble, summarizing what had happened aboard Hibernia.I spared myself nothing, glad now to have it over with. “Captain Haag’s loss and the lieutenants’ deaths were an act of Lord God,” I finished. “But I take full responsibility for the deaths of Midshipman Wilsky, the seamen, and the passengers.”
He was silent a long time. “Terrible,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“But you don’t know the half of it.” He stood and came around from behind the desk to where I sat, cap on my knee.
He bent and peered at my length of service medals. As if to confirm my story, he asked, “When did you say your last lieutenant died?”
“March 12, 2195, sir.”
“That’s in the Log?”
“Yes, sir.” I slipped the chip into my holovid, handed it across to him.
He sat at his desk, flipped through the entries until he came to the month of March. He shook his head as he reached the relevant passages. “It wasn’t June, was it? You became Captain in March.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, puzzled.
“That’s it, then.” Captain Forbee turned to look out the window. Facing away he said, “Hope Nation is still a small colony. We don’t have much of a Naval Station. No interstellar ships are based here; we’re not big enough to warrant it.
Admiral Johanson was a caretaker with seniority in case it might someday be needed; to resolve a dispute between two captains, for instance. Or to appoint a replacement in case a Captain died or was too ill to sail.”
“Yes, sir.”
“He had three Captains in system. One of them, Captain Grone--it’s an embarrassing incident, we did our best to hush it up--he went native almost a year ago. He and his fiancee stole a helicopter and flew to the Ventura Mountains.
Disappeared. We’ve never been able to find them. An unstable type, a lot of us thought. The second is Captain Marceau, from Telstar.Sixteen years seniority.”
Good. He or Forbee would replace me. My nightmare was over. “Where is he, sir?”
“The bloody fool had to go cliff-climbing on his shore leave. Six months, and he’s still in coma. Admiral Johanson gave Telstarto Captain Eaton last spring. They sailed to Detour, then headed for Miningcamp and Earth.”
“They never reached Miningcamp.”
“Yes, your Log makes that clear.” He sighed. “Eaton’s a reliable man. If he bypassed Miningcamp, he must have a reason.”
If that’s what he did, I thought silently. If Darla was glitched, how many other puters were, as well? I put aside the thought. “Sir, how many officers here are rated interstellar?”
He shook his head gloomily. “I said you didn’t know the half of it. Nobody. We have interplanetary Captains, of course, but why would anyone rated interstellar stay in this backwater?”
“You could go yourself, sir. Hibernianeeds a real Captain.”
“I told you we had no one, Mr. Seafort. You know how I came to Hope Nation? I shipped out as a lieutenant. My wife Margaret was among the passengers. I timed it so my hitch was up and I could resign my commission when we docked.
I’ve been a civilian for seven years, but after Admiral Johanson sent Eaton with Telstar,he reenlisted me so there’d be someone on staff who’d been interstellar.”
Did Forbee expect me to solve his problems for him? “You could appoint my lieutenant--I mean, my first lieutenant-as Captain, sir, and then relieve me.”
He stood tiredly. “You still don’t understand. Admiral Johanson gave me Captain’s rank at my reenlistment. To be precise, on June 6, 2195. Sir.”
“No!” I stumbled to my feet, overturning my chair. It was as if Seaman Tuak had shambled through the hatch, when at last I’d imagined myself safe.
“Yes, sir. You’re senior officer in Hope Nation system.”
23
I sat despondent while evening darkened outside the window, unnoticed.
We’d been over the regs a dozen times. I couldn’t find an escape.
“Governor Williams--”
“Is a civilian, sir. He doesn’t have jurisdiction over the Navy.” Captain Forbee must have studied every line of the regs as I had, hoping to escape his unwanted responsibility.
The relief he’d have felt when he found I had more interstellar time as Captain than he... “Governor Williams can no more appoint a Captain than you can set local speed limits,”
he added.
“You made your point!” Abashed, I lowered my voice.
“I can resign.”
“Yes, sir. Nobody can stop you.” He’d said it correctly.
Resigning for any reason except disabling physical illness or injury, or mental illness, was dereliction of duty. The regs I’d sworn to uphold required me to exert authority and control of the government of my vessel until relieved by order of superior authority, until my death, or until certification of my disability.