“Will I see you before you’re transferred out?” A natural assumption; a new Captain wouldn’t want his predecessor looking over his shoulder. I’d have been reassigned to another ship until the next interstellar vessel arrived.
“You’ll see me,” I growled, suddenly anxious to be rid of him. “Dismissed.”
I sat in my leather armchair on the silent bridge. Eventually, I realized there was no reason to stay. I wandered down to
Level 2, where parties of sailors clustered around the airlock, laughing and joking, awaiting dismissal. To avoid passing them I went back up the ladder. I strolled past the wardroom, past Vax’s cabin, formerly Ms. Dagalow’s. I stopped in front of Lieutenant Malstrom’s quarters. For a moment I had an urge to go in and set up the chessboard.
My friend floated forever in empty space, while I had reached safe haven in Hope Nation. I recalled our mutual plans and promises. The drink I would buy him, the trip we would take to the Venture Mountains. My eyes stung. I resolved to do those things for him. I would take a shuttle groundside in the morning. I’d go into the first bar I saw and order an asteroid on the rocks. Then I’d check on transportation and arrange a trip across the sea to the Venturas.
On the way back to my cabin I realized how lonely my leave would be. I hesitated for a moment, swore under my breath, turned back to the wardroom. I knocked.
Ricky opened, stiffening to attention.
“Carry on, all of you.”
He and Paula Treadwell were packing their duffels, clothing strewn across their beds. Derek Carr, his duffel ready, sat on his bunk waiting for the call to the shuttle.
“Mr. Carr, a word with you, please.” I took him out to the corridor. He listened, obedient but aloof. “I thought-that is, I’m going on a journey, uh, for sentimental reasons.
To the Venture Mountains. Someone was going to take me there once.” Once more I hesitated, afraid to open myself.
“I thought perhaps you might like to come along as my guest.”
“Thank you, Captain,” he said, his voice cool. “I have other plans. I’m visiting my father’s plantations, and then I’ll see Centraltown. My regrets, sir.” I heard the message behind his words. Derek could take anything he set his mind to, as he’d proven, but that didn’t mean he would forgive me for the undeserved humiliation of the barrel the day I’d lost my temper. I’d never be pardoned for that, not by a boy with his pride.
“Very well, Mr. Carr. Enjoy yourself.” I turned away.
“Thank you, Captain,” he said to my retreating back. He added, “You too.” It made me feel a little better.
Early the next morning, Hiberniabore an eerie resemblance to the wreck of Celestina.Lights gleamed in deserted corridors. No sound broke the stillness. Somewhere on board--probably in his cabin--was the Chief, serving the first week’s rotation, but most of the crew had departed, except a galley hand and a few maintenance ratings.
I shouldered my duffel and crossed through the airlocks, strode along the busy corridors of the station to the Commandant’s small office.
“May I help you, sir?” A corporal looked up from his puter.
“I’d like a shuttle groundside.”
“Yes, sir. Just a moment, please.” Within moments I was ushered into General Tho’s office. He was distinctly more cordial than on my prior visit.
“You might as well wait here, Captain, while the shuttle is prepped. Coffee?” I joined him for a cup and chatted until the craft was ready. As I left he said, “If there’s anything further I can do, let me know.” His manner suggested we were senior officers exchanging courtesies. I supposed we were.
The shuttle was much larger than the one on which I’d first gone ashore, but I was the only passenger; apparently the small launch wasn’t available and General Tho had decided not to make me wait. I had a different pilot, less interested in conversation.
Groundside once more, I inhaled several lungsful of clean
fresh air under the bright morning sun. The temperature was warm and pleasant; at this latitude Hope Nation had long summers and mild winters at sea level. One of Hope Nation’s two moons was dimly visible overhead. It appeared slightly
larger than did Luna from Earth’s surface.
I decided not to check in with Admiralty House. If Forbee had any news he’d have called. If I showed up now, he would dump onto me decisions he could make himself. I went directly to the terminal building and out the other side, as I’d been directed earlier by the quarantine nurse.
A giant screen anchored to a metal pole greeted me. “Welcome to Centraltown, Population 89,267.” I watched for a few moments, wondering how often the number changed.
According to the guidebook the screen was tied directly to the puters at Centraltown Hospital; each birth and death were reflected within moments on the welcome sign. Centraltown was the largest, and virtually the only, city on Hope Nation; the remainder of the colony’s two hundred thousand population was spread among several small towns and the many outlying plantations that justified the colony’s existence.
I had imagined raw dirt roads, fresh cuts in the hills, ramshackle buildings set around a primitive main street. Disappointed, I had to remind myself that Hope Nation was opened back in 2081, over a century past. Since then, a massive influx of materials and settlers had been absorbed.
The roads were paved and modern, and seemed clean compared to the crowded and filthy streets of Earth’s great cities.
I peered down the main avenue. Clusters of buildings lined the street south toward Centraltown, but a few blocks in the other direction the road disappeared into hills rife with uncultivated vegetation.
I spotted the car rental agency at the end of the terminal building. In no particular hurry I sauntered to the entry.
“Knock loud and come in,” read the sign tacked to the door.
Inside, a tiny waiting room, with a counter. I banged on the desk.
A young woman popped from behind a curtain leading to the back. “Hi, you must be from Hibernia.”She seemed about twenty. Long brown hair flowed unhindered to her shoulders.
I set down my duffel. “Yes, I am.”
“Looking for a car, huh?”
“That was the idea.” I studied her. If she was a typical Hopian, business here was conducted far more casually than at home.
“I think maybe we’ll have one later.” A shrug. “Yesterday the sailors grabbed all I had. One’s due back this afternoon.”
She shot me a dubious look. “You have to be twenty-one to rent. Age of majority. You don’t look that old.”
“I’m a Naval officer.” I pulled out my ID, which still showed me as a midshipman. I’d have to get that changed.
“I have my majority.”
“I guess,” she said vaguely. “Come back sometime this afternoon; I’ll see if one’s in yet.”
“Will you make a reservation for me?”
“You mean, hold a car? Sure. What’s your name?”
“Nick Seafort.”
“Right. If I’m not here, ask for me at the restaurant inside.”
“What’s your name?”
“Darla.” I started. She asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I knew a girl named Darla once.”
That brought a smile. “Was she nice?”
“I liked her. Sometimes when she made her mind up it was hard getting her to change it.”
“Oh, well, I’m not like that.” It could have been an invitation.
“What can someone do on foot around here?”
“There’s the terminal restaurant. If you want drinks, the Runway Saloon’s just up the block. Just don’t order doubles.”
“Right. Thanks.” I wandered out. The bar reminded me of my promise to Lieutenant Malstrom: a drink at the first bar we came to. I sighed. It was absurd to drink so early in the day, but I could think of nothing better to do, and a promise was a promise. I strolled along the street past the edge of the field, until I came upon a battered building with sheet-metal siding.
“Permanent Happy Hour!” the sign read. “All drinks always half price!” If drinks were always half price, what were they half of? I shrugged.