Collingswood completed her presentation quickly after that finishing with the usual port announcements, duty-roster requirements (to be satisfied before any leave applications we be processed), and official Fleet notices. One of these had to do with a call for volunteers—a special mission of one or another, but Brim missed most of it in the chorus of hoots and general disparagement which followed the word "volunteer." Something about a converted starliner registered in the back of his mind. I.F.S. Prosperous was it? If memory served him, a ship by that name was among the fastest in the peacetime fleet. Then the meeting was over and everyone was suddenly fighting over the duty roster.
Brim walked quickly past the happy throng signing up leave. He had none coming—nor anyplace to spend it if did. Alone in his cabin, he sat before the Communicator reported in to the Base's general-availability roster for the duration of Truculent's stay in port. Dutifully removing one the Fleet's ubiquitous personal transponders from his cabin he sent in its serial number, activated power for one stand month, then swallowed the tiny device and waited.
"Recorded and verified, Lieutenant Brim," the Communicator said. "We shall be in touch if necessary."
So much for that.
Within the metacycle, Brim was on Truculent's bridge once again, watching a husky, broad-shouldered tug materialize out of a thick fog to tow the destroyer to one of the inland repair pools.
Collingswood had long since signed her over to the base repair organizations and would not return for at least two weeks. For that matter, nearly all the rest of the officers were gone, too. Only Ursis remained with the ship to rum the in center gravity generator while the ship was towed—and even he was scheduled to depart with Borodov when that was done. The Bear watched approvingly while the tug's crew grappled on to Truculent's hull with the huge mooring beams the little ships seemed to use whether they needed them or not.
"One would think we displaced as much as Benwell," the Bear chuckled as Truculent was eased backward off her gravity pool.
"So long as he drives us to the repair pool and not me," Brim laughed, "he can use real rope for all I care—I can't keep track of the silly rules they've got for overland running."
In no time at all, their original mooring was swallowed in the fog. Brim watched in silence from the bridge as occasional buoys passed below in the swirling wake of the generator's footprint on the water.
Then they slowed and passed between two great, age-blackened stone pylons, and the ice-filled water of the basin was abruptly replaced by grimy, dirt-tracked shipyard snow.
The tug was soon towing them over a pair of glowing rails, for the kind Brim had followed on his arrival at the base. And he Gimmas Haefdon had meanwhile transformed itself into a disjoint parade of weathered buildings, suddenly looming gantries, and dismantled starships, which appeared and faded in the grayness as the destroyer glided backward in the swirling mists. Here and there, they saw trackside parties of grinning, heavily bundled workmen who alternately held their ears and waved as the ships rumbled past, cheering soundlessly outside the destroyer's bridge.
Finally, Truculent jolted to a stop on a pool surrounded by a forest of towering cranes and dozens of new umbilicals to sustain the ship's logic systems while her main power supply was shunted elsewhere for diagnostics.
Ursis no sooner shut down the center generator than a monstrous brow gently latched aboard, and presently the bridge filled with a rowdy gaggle of rough-hewn shipyard engineers tad and technicians.
"I shall offer my farewell here, Wilf Ansor," Ursis said gravely. "I would remain, but I am sure you understand one takes leave when he can." He solemnly raised a long finger. "'Dark snow and thrice-frozen lamps beckon old Bears and cubs alike to caves in the Great Vastness,' as the saying goes," he observed.
Brim smiled and put his hand on the Bear's shoulder. "I think I understand, Nik," he said. "And thanks for the thought."
Ursis bowed formally. "Besides," he said, "Borodov and I have a. . ." he frowned, ' feeling, shall we say, that you will not lack for companionship if last night is indication."
"Last night?"
The Bear merely laughed as he peered through the Hyperscreens, then nodded toward the breakwater where an elegant chauffeur-driven skimmer had drawn up opposite the gate. "Borodov," he pronounced, grinning now. "We shall talk again, eh?" He clapped Brim on his arm. "Enjoy Princess Effer'wyck, my good friend. She is known among Bears as a fine young woman—in spite of her royal blood." Then he was gone. In a few cycles, Brim watched him stride across the brow toward the waiting skimmer, six great traveling cases bobbing along in his wake.
Soon after Borodov's massive skimmer disappeared into a new snowstorm, Truculent's bridge became a confused mass of incomprehensible voices and engineering babble until Brim could stand it no more and escaped to the relative tranquillity of his cabin. While these crews were on the jab, Truculent, or at least the Truculent he knew, would cease to exist.
With little to occupy his normally busy mind, his thoughts returned quickly to Margot—and the promise he had made her. He frowned. Well, why not? He reached for the Communicator—then shook his head, suddenly unsure of himself: wardroom parties were one thing, but right now, he didn't even have the prospect of a wardroom, much less another party. What would he say to her? One didn't just invite someone to visit a gravity pool! And he knew nothing about the rest of Gimmas Haefdon—or how to entertain a full-blooded princess.
He laughed. He didn't have to know anything about either, for Margot Effer'wyck did. She'd been around the bloody base for years now! Screwing up his courage once more, he activated the COMM.
switched his way around the Threat Assessment Division (Universe, but they were secure!). At some length, her face appeared in the display.
"Wilf" she said, brushing aside a stray curl. "How nice. I hoped I'd hear from you."
The warmth of her smile managed to calm him before her physical beauty made a gawking schoolboy of him again. He laughed. "I hoped you'd hope," he quipped. "Now, all I have to do is find something to say next."
Margot grinned. "Hmm," she said. "Perhaps I can help. What was it you had in mind?"
"Actually," Brim answered, "I had you in mind."
"Well," Margot said with a look of mock thoughtfulness, "you have come to the right person, then."
"I thought so," Brim said. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me how I might suggest another evening together."
Margot smiled again, her heavy-lidded eyes alive with warmth and humor. "That's not difficult," she said. "You could ask me to supper—I'm quite available for something like that." She winked. "Including tonight."
Brim felt his heart skip a beat.
"Universe," he stammered, "I'd love that—but I have no idea where."
"I see," Margot said in mock seriousness. "Well, were such an invitation tendered, I should be glad to take care of the other details—including transportation."
Brim laughed. "I was going to cross the transportation bridge when I got to it," he admitted.
"Gets cold around here for a lot of Walking," Margot asserted. "But, then, I haven't been invited anywhere, either."