Chapter Five
The Commandant did not look as if this were just an administrative matter. Esmay came to attention and waited. Finally he spoke.
“I understand you had an . . . er . . . disagreement with the Speaker’s daughter, Brun Meager.”
As if she didn’t know who it was; as if she did not know with whom she had quarrelled. And could this be what it was about? A simple quarrel?
“Yes, sir.”
“The . . . er . . . surveillance recordings indicate that you criticized Sera Meager on grounds of her moral failings . . .”
“Sir.” Certain phrases came back to her memory for the first time in days, as if highlighted in flame.
“Do you really think that was appropriate professional demeanor, Lieutenant?”
“If you have the tapes, you know why I said what I said,” Esmay said. She wished she’d been more tactful, but it was petty of Brun to have reported their argument.
“Let me put it another way, Lieutenant.” The voice was a shade cooler; Esmay felt it on her skin, like a cold breeze stiffening the hairs of her arms. “Whatever the provocation, do you think it is appropriate for a Fleet officer to lecture a civilian—a prominent civilian—as if they were rival fishwives?” Before Esmay could think of anything to say, he went on. “Because, Lieutenant, I can tell you that I do not consider it appropriate. I consider it an embarrassment, and I am quite seriously disappointed in your performance. Allowances have been made for your background—”
Esmay stirred, but he held up a warning hand and went on.
“Your background, as I said, would be some excuse, if you were not from a prominent family on Altiplano, and if you had not previously commented on the greater formality of manners there. I hardly think you would have spoken to a civilian guest of your father’s in such terms as you used to Sera Meager.”
“No, sir.” She wouldn’t, because no young woman of family would have behaved like Brun Meager. She tried to think of an equivalent crime, and couldn’t. But no use explaining . . . that never did any good.
“And then to make comments where someone in the media could hear you—!”
“Sir?” She had no idea what that was about.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know about that!” He glared at her.
“Sir, after the argument with Brun, I finished packing and then left on the field exercise. I didn’t talk to anyone else about anything at all; I didn’t talk to anyone about her during the exercise, and I just got back from medical . . . I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He looked slightly taken aback, someone in a righteous rage who had stumbled over an inconvenient contrary fact.
“You spoke to no one?”
“No one, sir.”
“Well, you must’ve been loud enough for someone to overhear, because it certainly made the news.”
There would have been no media on a military installation on Altiplano. It wasn’t fair to blame her because they’d let media follow Brun around and poke into every cranny.
“You of all people should know that Fleet is under great suspicion at this time—between the mutinies and the Lepescu affair—and the last thing we need is some wild-eyed young officer accusing the Speaker’s daughter of immorality. That does us no good with the Grand Council, or for that matter with the populace at large. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I wonder. You are an intelligent officer, and supposedly talented in tactics, but . . . in all my years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen as egregious an example of bad judgement. You’ve embarrassed me, and you’ve embarrassed the Regular Space Service. If you didn’t have such a good record previously, I would seriously consider having you up for conduct unbecoming an officer.”
All she had done was tell a rich spoiled brat the plain truth . . . but clearly some unpleasant truths were not to be told. Brun was the one who had done wrong, and now she was in trouble. Her head was pounding again.
“Let me tell you what you’re going to do, Lieutenant. You are going to avoid any interviews on any topic whatsoever. You are going to make no comments whatever about Sera Meager, to anyone. If asked, you will say you lost your temper—which clearly is the case—and you have no more to say. I would have you apologize to Sera Meager, except that she chose to leave this facility—and no wonder—and I doubt she wants to hear from you anyway. Is all that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Esmay saluted and withdrew, angry with both herself and Brun. She shouldn’t have said what she said—all right, she could admit she’d been too angry to think straight. But Brun had taken advantage of her, time and again—and to go complain to authority was . . . was another proof of her childishness.
She was supposed to meet Barin—he’d left word on her comunit—but she really wanted to crawl into her bunk and sleep another twelve hours. At least, she thought, he wouldn’t waste their time talking about Brun.
Brun was the first topic he brought up. “You were pretty hard on her,” Barin said, after mentioning that he’d seen the newsflash along with everyone else in the class. “She’s not as bad as all that . . .”
“She is,” Esmay said. It was too much; she was not going to let Brun get away with ruining this, too. She saw his face change, his expression harden against her. Sorrow cut through her, but her anger pushed her on, forcing her against the blade of his disapproval. “She had no right to come after you; if she had one scrap of morality—”
“That’s not fair,” Barin said. “She does. It’s just that—that someone like that—”
“The richest girl in the Familias Regnant? The rules are different for the rich, is that what you’re saying?”
“No—yes, but not the way you mean it.” The slight emphasis he put on “you” stung; he had meant it to, Esmay was sure.
“The way I mean it is that people who have her advantages ought to have used them for something more than personal pleasure.”
“Well, had you told her that we were . . . anything to each other?”
“No, I did not.” Esmay could feel her own face getting stiff. “It was none of her business. It has nothing to do with me and you; it has to do with her assumption that anyone she wants should climb in bed with her . . .”
“Anyone!” Barin looked startled, then amused, then alarmed. “She didn’t try to get you—?”
“No!” Esmay shook her head, which was beginning to throb in the old way. “She didn’t, of course she didn’t. It’s just that she went after you, and you’re an officer of Fleet, and younger than she is—” Too late she remembered that she herself could not be simultaneously older than Brun and co-equal with Barin. Her voice wavered; she gulped and went on. “It was—was—unseemly. Chasing junior officers.”
“Esmay, please.” Barin reached out but drew back his hand before touching her. “It was perfectly natural. And all she did was ask. When I said no, she didn’t bother me. Perfectly polite, perfectly within the bounds of courtesy.”
“You said no?” Esmay managed to get out around a dry lump in her throat.
“Of course I said no. What do you think?” His heavy Serrano brows drew together. “You thought I slept with her? How could you think that?” Now he was angry, black eyes flashing and a flush coming up in his face.
Esmay felt panic rising in her. He hadn’t slept with Brun? Had Livadhi lied? Misunderstood? Not known? She could say nothing. Barin, glaring at her, nodded sharply as if her silence confirmed some dire suspicion.
“You thought I did. You thought just because I shared a few meals with her while you were busy, just because we talked, just because she’s a rich girl, that I’d leap into her bed like a tame puppy. Well, I’m no one’s pet, Esmay. Not hers, and not yours. If you really cared for me, you’d know that. I’m sorry you understand so little, but if you want to succeed in Fleet, you’d better get off your moral high horse and start dealing with reality.”