Mrs. Treadwell jumped to her feet as I passed her on the way out. “You won’t get away with it!” she shouted. “The courts in Detour will help us! We’ll see you there!”
I shrugged. Perhaps.
26
Though the hearing was officially suppressed, the story made its way through the ship. Vax wore a foolish grin for the rest of the day, even during his watch. Alexi went so far as to congratulate me openly; I bit back a sharp reproof.
The rest of our crew straggled back from shore leave. Our final passengers were ferried up to the ship and settled in thencabins. Among the last to board were the Treadwells. I had them escorted directly to the bridge.
“I thought of refusing you passage,” I told them. “But I don’t want to separate Rafe and Paula sooner than necessary.
I let you aboard, but one more protest, one petition, a single interference with the operation of my ship--and that includes harassing Paula--and you’ll spend the entire trip in the brig.
Is that understood?”
It wasn’t that easy. I had to threaten to have them expelled to the station before they finally gave me their agreement.
The purser’s last-minute stores were boarded. A new ship’s launch, replacing the ill-fated one on which our officers perished, was safely berthed by Lieutenant Holser under my anxious scrutiny. Darla recalculated her base mass without comment.
To my relief all our crew members returned from shore leave; we had no deserters, no AWOLs. Seventeen passengers for Detour chose not to continue their trip; that didn’t bother me. Others took their places. On this leg, we would cany ninety-five passengers.
Derek paged me fromhis duty station at the aft airlock.
“The new midshipman is at the lock, reporting for duty, sir.”
“Very well. Send him to the bridge.” Suddenly I was back at Earthport Station, smoothing my hair, nervously clutching my duffel, anxious to make a good first impression when I reported to Captain Haag. Now I was at the other end of the interview.
“Permission to enter bridge, sir.” An unfamiliar voice.
“Granted,” I said without turning.
“Midshipman Philip Tyre reporting, sir.” He came to attention smartly, his duffel at his feet.
I turned to him and fell silent. He wasn’t handsome--he was beautiful. Smooth unblemished skin, wavy blond hair, blue eyes, a finely chiseled intelligent face. He could have been lifted from a recruiting poster.
I took his papers, letting him wait at attention while I looked them over. He’d joined at thirteen and now had three years service. That put him senior not only to Derek, but to Alexi as well. A disappointment for Alexi, but that couldn’t be helped. I had plans for Alexi soon enough.
“Stand easy, Mr. Tyre.”
“Thank you, sir.” His voice was steady and vibrant.
“Welcome to Hibernia.”I stopped myself from offering my hand. The Captain must keep his distance. “You’ve been on interplanetary service for the past year?”
The boy flashed a charming smile. “Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve been to Detour.”
“Yes, sir. On Hindenberg,before I was transferred out.”
Tyre had seen a lot of service, more than I had when I’d been posted in Hibernia.“It seems you’re to be senior middy.”
“That’s what I understood from Captain Forbee, sir.” His smile was pleasant. “I think I can handle it.”
“Good. Mr. Tamarov was senior for a while, but I doubt he’ll give you any trouble.”
“I’m sure he won’t, sir.” Was there more emphasis in his tone than necessary? “Very well, Mr. Tyre. Get yourself settled in the wardroom, and have a look around the ship.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He saluted and picked up his duffel with graceful ease. ‘“Thank you, sir.” He turned and marched out.
I made a note to reassure Alexi that he hadn’t been intentionally demoted.
I sat back, comparing the new middy’s entry to Mr.
Chantir’s. Our new lieutenant had come aboard the evening before. He’d reported to the bridge, saluting easily. He responded to my welcome with a warm, friendly grin. “Thank you, sir. It’s good to be aboard.”
“It says here you have special talent in navigation.”
“I wouldn’t say special, sir,” he said modestly. “But I enjoy solving plotting problems.”
“Then I’ll put you in charge of the midshipmen’s drills.”
He smiled again. “Good. I love to teach.” I knew immediately that I would like him. I thought of embittered, tyrannical Lieutenant Cousins and how I’d dreaded our lessons.
We were ready to depart. The Pilot at the conn, we cast off, maneuvered a safe distance from the station, and Fused almost at once. I was so busy I forgot to watch Hope Nation dwindle on the screens before they blanked.
It wouldn’t be long before the stars reappeared; we were on a short run to Bauxite to pick up our third lieutenant. A voyage of five weeks by conventional power, in Fusion we could make the hop in less than a day. We’d take longer to maneuver the ship for mating with U.N.S. Breziathan to travel the interplanetary distance in Fusion.
Breziawas a small cruiser that shuttled back and forth among the planets of Hope Nation system, available for orbital rescues or other needs of the civilian mining fleet and the area’s commercial craft. Lacking fusion engines, Breziacruised at subluminous speeds. Unfortunately, her Captain was only rated interplanetary or I would have shanghaied him as well as his lieutenant.
Pilot Haynes and Lars Chantir worked together during the docking. The Pilot, true to his word, gave no trouble. As he’d said, he was good at his job. After we located Breziahe deftly maneuvered us into matching velocity. To avoid the cumbersome chore of mating airlocks, we drifted to within a hundred meters of Breziaand I had a T-suited sailor carry a flexible line to their lock. Shortly after, our new officer came across the line, hand over hand, his duffel tied behind his suit.
Having little else to do, I went to the lock to meet him.
Correctly, he stripped off his suit before coming to attention.
“Lieutenant Ardwell C. Crossburn reporting, sir.” A short, round-figured man in his late thirties.
“Stand easy, Lieutenant. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, sir.” He looked around at his new ship. “As soon as I get my gear stowed I can take up my duties, sir.
I’ll try to be of assistance.”
“No hurry, Mr. Crossburn,” I said in good humor. “You can wait until after dinner.”
“Very well, sir. If you insist.” An odd way to speak, but the man had a peculiar manner about him. Well, his record showed him to be a competent and experienced officer. I returned to the bridge and waited impatiently while Mr.
Haynes and Lieutenant Chantir plotted Fusion coordinates and rechecked them together. Laboriously I went through the calculations myself and found no error. We Fused.
In seven weeks we would reach Detour, a younger colony than Hope Nation, and one whose environment was less hospitable to humankind. Its air held less nitrogen and slightly more oxygen, but it was breathable. They’d had to do a lot of terraforming to bring down the sulphuric compounds in the atmosphere before Detour could be developed. Now the planet was open for colonization and some sixty thousand settlers had already arrived.
Lars Chantir was my senior lieutenant. Mr. Crossburn, with six years experience, was second. Vax was last in line, but that mattered less among lieutenants than midshipmen, unless the Captain died. The barrel was duly moved to First Lieutenant Chantir’s quarters; it was a traditional duty of the senior lieutenant.
I had time on my hands, time to miss Amanda. Our nights in the hills of Western Continent had provided the first sustained intimacy I’d ever known. Knowing how incapable I was, Amanda had still cared for me. I yearned for her presence.