He was gone before she could say anything, and long before anyone could have suspected what she had once worried they might suspect. She made it to her quarters at last, and spent another night not sleeping, staring at the ceiling over her bunk.
When they met in class the next day, Esmay could do nothing but stare miserably at the back of Barin’s head. He did not turn to look at her. When called on, he gave his answers in his familiar crisp voice; she found that she could do the same, though she wasn’t at all sure how her brain could keep working when her heart was lying in a sodden heap somewhere below her navel.
She had never been in love before. She had heard others describe similar symptoms, but had thought they exaggerated. They did not exaggerate, she decided; in fact, they had not begun to describe the misery she felt. They had all lived through it; she supposed she would too, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
To her surprise, she received a high score on her field exercise. It did not make her feel better, though her subdued acceptance of the certificate seemed to please Lieutenant Commander Uhlis. She could feel the subtle withdrawal of her classmates, even those like Vericour who had been friendly all along.
Anonymity had been a lot easier than disgrace.
On the day Barin was due to leave, she made her way to the exit area; she felt she had to make some contact with him, or she might as well jump off a tower. Her hands were icy; she could feel her heart pounding as she spotted him across the room.
“Barin—”
“Lieutenant.” He was coolly polite. She didn’t want coolly polite.
“Barin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” That came out in a rush, almost all one word.
“No apologies necessary,” he said, almost formally. She thought she saw a bit of warmth in his eye, but nothing more. He wasn’t going to reach out for her, not here in public, and he showed no signs of wanting a more private conversation.
“I just—don’t want us to be enemies,” Esmay said.
“Never!” He took a breath. “Never enemies, Lieutenant, even if we can’t agree.” A long pause, during which Esmay heard what he did not say aloud—or what she imagined he was saying. She didn’t know which. “Goodbye, Lieutenant, and good luck on your first assignment in command track. You’ll do fine.”
“Thank you,” Esmay said. “And good luck to you.” Her throat closed on the rest of what she wanted to say: We could stay in touch. We could plan . . . No. She had ruined what they had, and that was it.
They shook hands, formally, and then saluted, formally, and then he moved over to the line forming for his shuttle. Esmay did not wait to see if he would turn around and wave. She was sure he wouldn’t.
She had not been outside the gates of the facility before, but now she found herself wandering out to Q-town in the kind of numb misery she thought she’d never feel again. She didn’t want to see anyone from her class in the mess hall, but she had to eat before leaving, or she’d throw up. Someone had said—who was it? She couldn’t recall, someone on Koskiusko—that while she was on Copper Mountain, she’d have to visit Diamond Sims. She spotted the sign down the street, and made for it.
“Lieutenant Suiza!” The man in the hoverchair called to her almost as soon as she cleared the door. “I’m glad you came. I’m Sam—I run this place.”
Someone was glad to see her? She glanced around, recognizing with a strange shock what this bar was about, and made her way toward the back.
“We’re honored you came by,” the man said. “Major Pitak said you might, if you had time.”
“Sorry it took me so long,” Esmay said. “I was doubling courses—”
“Yeah—we keep track of people at the school, so I knew you were busy. Didn’t expect you before now, and didn’t know if you’d have time. When’s your shuttle?”
“About five hours.” Esmay took the seat he indicated.
“You in trouble about that Meager woman?” he asked.
Brun again. Esmay managed a nod, and hoped that would indicate she didn’t want to talk about it.
“It’s partly my fault,” the man said. “She came in here hopping mad that night, and shot off her mouth in front of the whole room. We think what happened is that one of the newsies on her tail got it with a spike-mike from out on the street. Least, nobody that was here will admit to telling it.”
“It’s—not worth worrying about,” Esmay said. “It happened; I can’t change it now.”
“You sound like someone who needs a steak,” the man said. He raised his hand, and a waitress appeared. He glanced at Esmay. “Steak all right? Onions?”
“No onions, thanks.” Not with a shuttle liftoff. But she nodded to the rest of his suggestions, and soon the sizzling platter appeared.
When she had started eating, the man went on chatting. “She’s a pretty thing, but stubborn as a stump. A good argument against letting civilians train at our facilities, no matter whose children they are. It does no good to mix with the Families. They employ us; they cannot be us.”
For some reason—perhaps the energy imparted by the steak—Esmay was moved to argue. “She had a lot of talents we could use—”
“Oh, certainly, if she had any discipline at all . . .”
“She did pull off some good stuff I heard about,” Esmay said. “Helping that old lady—she worked hard on that.”
His eyes twinkled. “You’d make a silk purse out of any sow’s ear, would you, Lieutenant? A good attitude for a young officer, but you’ll find some of ’em smell of pig no matter what you do. So where are you going now?”
“I’m not sure,” Esmay said. “They’re supposed to have my assignment ready by the time I get to sector HQ. They may bury me in paperwork—”
“No, I don’t think so,” the man said. “Even if you’re in trouble now, it will pass, and they’re not going to waste a young officer with real combat ability.”
“I hope not,” Esmay said.
“We’re going to have to find something else,” the admiral said. “I know what we thought we were going to do with Lieutenant Suiza, but we certainly cannot reward her performance with a plum assignment.”
“We needed her the way she was—” the commander said.
“The way we thought she was. Thank any deity you like that we brought her in for training before assigning her permanently to command track. Imagine the mess she could’ve caused as a cruiser captain, if all this had slid by.”
“I still find it hard to understand. There was nothing—nothing—in her record to indicate that kind of character flaw, rather the opposite.”
“There was nothing in her record to indicate her ability in combat until Xavier,” the admiral said. “If she could hide that kind of talent, and she did, then this is no more difficult. And after all, she’d never been in contact with any of the Families before—Altiplano has no Seat in Council.”
“There is that.” The commander looked thoughtful. “I wish we knew whether there was anything more to it.”
“More? Verbal assault on the Speaker’s daughter isn’t enough?”
“Well . . . is it just personal, or is it political? Is she the spearpoint for something?”
“I don’t know, and at the moment I don’t care. We’ve wasted entirely too much money and time on this young woman, and we’re going to have to figure out a way to get repaid without risking the welfare of the Fleet.” The admiral looked around the table. “Someone had better have an idea how.”