Would there have come a time, Ted asked silently, when you cursed him for surrendering to your charms and taking you in his arms?
He pushed the thought aside, annoyed. “I am sorry for your loss,” he said. “I believe he was a good man, merely… misguided.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Rose said, tartly. “Will you write that on the memorial stone after the end of the war?”
“I think so,” the Admiral said. He paused. “We recovered a handful of datachips from the Russians, Commander, including one that held recordings of your… activities. I doubt they’re the only ones they have, but I don’t think they’re likely to release the recordings now that Commander Schneider is dead. Even if they did…”
He shrugged. “He died well, Commander,” he added, “even though the truth will probably never be told. There will be an investigation, but your career should be safe.”
Rose shook her head. “I showed poor judgement during wartime,” she said. “How could my career be safe?”
“You also showed good judgement when you were confronted by blackmailers and threatened with exposure,” Ted pointed out. “I believe it was you, Commander, who insisted that Schneider bring his problem to my attention. Everyone makes mistakes — and your mistake was pretty damn stupid — but you also managed to deal with the consequences despite the threat of exposure.”
“And now Kurt is dead,” Rose said. She looked down at the desk, shaking her head helplessly. “What will become of his children?”
“I think they will be fine,” Ted said. He frowned at her doubtful expression. “They will have to come to terms with losing a father, of course, but they won’t suffer because of his mistake.”
“I hope you’re right, sir,” Rose said. “What will happen now?”
Ted studied her for a long moment. Starfighter pilots lived fast and burned out early, unless they saw the writing on the wall and transferred to other duties before it was too late. The certainty of death or the loss of everything that made life worthwhile had eventually driven her into her lover’s arms. And now…
He sighed Rose’s life had changed over the course of the mission, confronting her with the prospect of losing her career… and then losing a lover. At least they hadn’t broken up, the romantic in Ted thought, even though he knew it was absurd. She’d merely watched him being marched off to his death instead. There was no way that wouldn’t leave a scar.
“You will resume your duties,” he ordered, reluctantly. He’d have to recall Prince Henry from the surface too, just to have someone who could take her place, if necessary. “If we manage to get back to Earth without further ado, you will be able to make some judgements and decisions about your future then. I would advise you to consider a permanent transfer to the Academy” — if they’ll take you, his thought added silently — “or another division.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t even look angry at his suggestion. And that was worrying.
“Yes, sir,” she said, instead. “Will there be a service for him?”
“There will,” Ted said. He paused, then leaned forward. “Commander… the starfighter pilots on this ship have never lost a commander before now. You will need to work with them, to keep them busy… they can’t be allowed to brood. And I can’t allow you to brood either.”
“I understand, sir,” Rose said. She looked up, meeting his eyes. “What will you tell his children?”
“That their father died bravely,” Ted said. It wasn’t, technically, his job to write the letter to the next-of-kin, but he might make an exception in this case. “I wasn’t planning to go into details.”
“Yes, sir,” Rose said. “Thank you, sir.”
Ted was tempted to ask what, if anything, Commander Schneider’s children had known of the affair, but he held his tongue. Instead, he took one final look at her, then started to walk towards the hatch. And then he turned back.
“Get a shower, Commander, then dress in a clean uniform and get out there,” he ordered. “I wish I had time to let you rest, but I have none. The war may not be over.”
“Aye, sir,” Rose said. She stood, reluctantly. “I’ll do my duty.”
“That has never been in doubt,” Ted said.
He smiled, humourlessly. The investigators might disagree, but he hadn’t been able to find any signs that Kurt Schneider had pulled strings on his lover’s behalf. Rose hadn’t been promoted at his command. She’d earned her rank, as far as Ted could tell. But then, almost all of the survivors of their first mission had been promoted. Rose was merely one of a handful who had stayed with Ark Royal.
“I know it isn’t easy to lose a loved one,” he added. Others might be able to visit a counsellor, but how could Rose when her affair had been thoroughly illicit? “If you need to talk, Commander, you may talk to me.”
He nodded to her, then turned and strode out of the hatch.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Do you think,” Henry asked as he stumbled down the muddy path, “that they do this on purpose?”
“I think they’re just as uncomfortable as we are,” Ambassador Melbourne said. “Just for different reasons.”
Henry snorted, rudely. The alien mainland was a rainforest, the trees pressing so close to the diplomatic chambers that the only way anyone could walk was through the paths the aliens had cut through the foliage with fusion torches. The whole island was infested with insects, which buzzed endlessly in the background, and spider-like creatures that showed no fear of humanity. Their bites weren’t poisonous, thankfully, but they tended to itch terribly until one of the medics found a treatment that worked. Even so, he reflected as sweat dripped off his bare back, he would be glad to return to orbit. There were certain people who should never be allowed to wear swimsuits or bathing costumes.
Least of all diplomats, he thought, sourly. The thought of turning up to a diplomatic meeting on Earth clad in a swimsuit or bikini was absurd, but it made sense on the alien world. Few of the diplomats could wear suits and ties for long in the heat, even if they weren’t ruined to exposure to sweat and water. But it didn’t make them look any more attractive. Some of them really needed to cover up.
He kept his opinion to himself as the jungle came to an end, revealing a path leading down to the water’s edge. This time, the aliens hadn’t invited them to a city, but to a lagoon that reminded him of Jill’s description of First Contact. Hundreds of aliens were swimming in the water, surfacing briefly like dolphins at play before diving back under the waves. Henry checked he still had his mask on his belt as Ambassador Melbourne led the way down to the water, stopping just on the edge of the beach. The aliens made gestures that needed no translation.
Come on in, Henry thought, feeling a sudden spurt of affection for the playful creatures. The water’s fine.
He walked into the water until it was waist deep, then halted as the aliens surged around him, swimming alarmingly close with no regard for his personal space. But then, they were an intensely social race, he reminded himself. They probably had no conception of personal space, let alone any of the problems that had caused humanity to invent the concept in the first place. He forced himself to keep his face impassive as the smell of so many aliens in close proximity grew stronger. Did the aliens, he wondered absently, find humanity as smelly as humans found them?