“For what?”
“The usuaclass="underline" you slap export duties on what you send us, and we can’t ship our produce except in Naval hulls. Makes for unfair trade, and we’re paying dearly.”
Derek’s eyes flickered to the comfortable house.
Branstead shrugged, his manner depreciating. “As a nation, I mean. We’re the breadbasket of the colonies. Do you know how much food Hope Nation ships back to Earth? Millions of tons. Once you lift it out of the atmosphere, vacuum cold storage costs nothing. Where are you boys from, anyway?”
“Earth,” I told him. “We’re going on to Detour.”
“When you get home, tell them we want a new tariff bill.”
We drifted to politics and current events, that is, as current as they could be after eighteen months of sail.
After dinner Derek and I settled into the guest house. I sank onto my bed with a sigh of relief. “Why did I blurt out the name Rogoff? I felt his presence all through the meal. I shouldn’t have done that.”
His tone was accusing. “I thought you said you knew how to handle it.”
“You got to see a plantation, didn’t you?”
He grimaced, but without rancor. I got into bed and turned out the light.
Derek tossed and turned for hours, waking me each time I drifted to sleep. In the very early hours he got up quietly, put on his clothes, and slipped outside. Just as dawn was breaking he crept back to his bed, waking me once more.
In the morning, I dressed quickly, anxious for my first cup of coffee. Derek paced. “Look, sir, we can’t go on to Carr.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That again?”
“The manager won’t talk to us.” He sat, stood again immediately. “We’ll learn nothing. And I won’t beg, not on my own land.”
I tried to soothe him. “One thing I’ve learned as Captain, Derek. You’ll have enough problems without worrying about ones that haven’t come up yet. We’ll play it by ear.”
His look was dubious. After a while, he sighed. “All right.
Tell them I’m your cousin or something.”
Thanks to Derek’s nocturnal meanders, we’d slept in until well past nine. We were prepared to leave without breakfast but the housekeeper insisted on feeding us a simple meal that grew into a gargantuan feast.
I was eyeing the last of my coffee when Harmon Branstead looked in. “Where do you go from here, boys?”
“North, toward Carr. Maybe beyond.”
“Stop at Hopewell if you have time. Their automated mill and elevator is astonishing.”
“Thank you.” I glanced at my watch. I could imagine nothing less interesting.
Derek pushed back his chair. “Ready, Mr. Seafort?”
“Yes.” I got to my feet. “Drive the car around. I’ll get our duffels.”
“Thanks for your hospitality, sir.” Derek hurried out. I headed for the stairs.
“Just a moment,” said Branstead then to a farmhand, “Randall, get their bags.” When we were alone, he eyed me with distaste.
“Sir?”
His face was cold. “In Hope Nation, hospitality is a matter of tradition, not law. In that tradition, I opened my home to you. I sat you at dinner with my own children.”
“Yes, sir?”
He shot, “Who are you?”
“Nick. Nick Rog--” My voice faltered.
“Seafort, I believe he called you. I don’t know why you chose to lie, but it’s despicable. You were a guest! Get out, and don’t come back!”
My face flamed. “I’m sor--”
“Out!”
“Yes, sir.” I headed for the door with as much dignity as I could muster. Beyond, in the haze, Father glowered his disapproval.
My hand on the latch, I hesitated. “Mr. Branstead, please... “ I glanced at his face, saw no opening. “I was wrong. Forgive me. My name is Nick Seafort. I--”
“Are you really from Hibernia?’“Yes.”
His skepticism was evident. “You don’t look like the sailors we see hereabouts.”
“We’re officers.”
“Why should I believe that?”
I took out my wallet, handed him my ID.
His glance went to my face and back. “A midshipman.”
“Not anymore. It’s an old card.”
“They wouldn’t have you?”
“They had no choice. I’m, ah, Captain now.”
“You’re the one!” He studied me. “Everyone’s heard, but I don’t think they said the name... Why lie about it, for heaven’s sake?” His tone had eased to one of curiosity.
I had to do something to make amends. “My friend Derek.”
“Yes?”
“Derek Carr.”
“Is he related-- Oh!” He sat.
Gratefully, I did the same; my knees were weak. “He’s a midshipman now, and he’ll sail with us. Before we left he wanted to see... “I found it hard to raise my eyes. “Mr.
Branstead, I’m ashamed.”
“Well, there are worse things than deceit.” His voice was gruff. “You’re going on to Carr, then?”
“Yes. He’s very nervous about it. What will the manager--Plumwell, you said--do if he visits?”
His fingers drummed the table. “All our plantations are family owned. There’s never been a case where the owner isn’t in residence. Until now. Will Derek come back to stay?”
“Count on it.”
“Winston wasn’t well, the last few years. He relied heavily on Plumwell. If it weren’t for Andy, they could have lost most everything when credit was so tight. Plumwell may have saved the estate.” A pause. “So if he’s come to think of it as his own... “
I waited.
“He feels strongly about it. They’ve petitioned Governor Williams for a regulation granting rights to resident managers, though that change could take years. If an heir showed up now... “He glanced at me, as if deciding. “Yes, perhaps it’s best to use another name.”
“Is it safe to go?”
“Mr., ah, Seafort... Hope Nation is far from Earth; settlers have handled their own affairs for years. We have a certain spirit of independence that’s hard for you visitors to understand. When a problem gets in the way... we remove it.”“Would he--”
“I don’t know. I won’t mention you if I run into Plumwell.” Branstead stood.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I deceived you. I see now there was no need.”
“You couldn’t know that.” Branstead, somewhat mollified, walked me to the door. “Tell me, has the Navy ever had a Captain your age? How exactly did it come about?”
I owed him that, and whatever else he asked. I forced a strained smile. “Well, it happened this way... “
Early that afternoon, rain turned ruts and chuckholes into small ponds. Secure in our watertight electricar we hummed along past thousands of acres of cultivation. Branstead gave way to Volksteader, then Palabee. Derek asked nervously, “Sir, what will you do?”
“Don’t worry.” I’d decided not to tell Derek about Branstead’s warning, for fear of making him even more nervous.
He would be my cousin. I was practicing how to introduce him when a new mark appeared on the wooden signposts. A few miles beyond, we came to the entrance road, marked with a painted metal sign. “Carr Plantation. Hope Nation’s Best.”
He slowed. “Wouldn’t you rather head back? We’ll have more time for the Ventur--”
“Oh, please.” I pointed to the service road.
It was a long drive, past herds of cattle grazing in lush green pastures, heads bowed away from the rain. Then, endless fields of corn along both sides of the road. Finally a dip revealed an impressive complex of buildings about half a mile ahead.
We came to a stop at a guardhouse with a lowered rail.
The guard leaned into the window. “You fellas looking for something?”
“We’re on a trip up the coast road. Can we stay the night?” He nodded reluctantly. “There’s guest privileges. Every place has them. But why stop here?”
I grinned. “Back in Haulers’ Rest they told us whatever else we missed we had to see Carr Plantation, ‘cause it’s the best and biggest on Hope Nation.”
He snorted but looked mollified. “Not the biggest. Not yet, anyway. Go on in, I’11 ring and tell them you’re coming.”