Текст книги "Midshipman's Hope"

Автор книги: Дэвид Файнток

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Vax shook his head with stubborn negation. “If I may say so, you–”

“No, that’s enough. I understand you disapprove.”

Vax subsided, muttering.

Earlier, in the quiet of the lounge, I’d picked up the knife Jared Treadwell had let fall, tossed it aside. Half a dozen steps saw me to the hatch. “It’s all right, Mr. Vishinsky.

Dismiss your detail.”

“Sir, is he–”

“Help him remove his things from his cabin, and escort him to the lock.” I turned to Ricky. “You’ll be all right, boy. To the sickbay. Now.”

“Aye aye, sir. Did he hurt–Captain, I’m sor–”

Philip Tyre snapped, “Cadet, two demerits. About-face, march! When the Captain gives an order, jump. I’ll deal with you in the wardroom!”

I managed to hold my tongue until Ricky was out of sight.

Then, “Mr. Tyre, you argued with your Captain, twice!” I shook with fury. “My compliments to Lieutenant Chantir, and tell him I’m displeased–no, tell him I’m thoroughly disgusted–with your conduct, and he’s to correct it forthwith!”

Philip blanched. “I didn’t mean–aye aye, sir!”

“Go!”

After, I leaned against the bulkhead. Rafe and Paula were in quarters, the master-at-arms with Jared Treadwell, Ricky having his arm attended. Philip had gone to his chastisement.

I stopped at my cabin, changed my shirt, sat awhile on my starched .blanket.

My life had been at risk, and I felt nothing. Well, perhaps not quite that. When the knife had fallen, I’d felt relief. But not much.

I’d think about that later. Time to return to the bridge.

From my seat beneath the blank screens, I reviewed the Log. Mr. Chantir had recorded a caning. Philip Tyre was banished to the wardroom. I sighed. Now more than ever, the boy would lash out at his juniors. And of all of them, Derek had been pressed the hardest.

I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Carr to the bridge.”

A few moments later Derek appeared, his uniform immaculate, hair brushed neatly. “Yes, sir?”

I indicated the chair next to Vax. “I need you tonight, Mr. Carr. Assist Mr. Holser. A double watch.” Absolutely unnecessary, docked at an orbiting station.

“Aye aye, sir.” Derek knew better than to question orders.

I could say nothing to explain. Abruptly his eyes flooded with gratitude, as he realized I was keeping him out of Philip Tyre’s reach.

“Mr. Carr has had a hard day, Lieutenant. If he dozes, let him be.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Vax’s face lit. “We’ll manage.”

Satisfied, I went to bed.

The next day we began taking on passengers for Hope Nation and Earth, as well as cargo of metals and manufactured goods. I noticed from the manifest that we would carry the Detour Olympic team home to Earth for the decennial interplanetary Olympics. I suspected the exercise rooms would be well used.

“Aft line secured, sir.” Lieutenant Holser, at the aft airlock.

“Forward line secured, sir,” Lieutenant Crossburn, at the forward lock.

I tapped my fingers, waiting for the routine to play itself out.”Forward lock ready for breakaway, sir.”

“Aft lock ready for breakaway, sir.”

“Very well.” I blew the ship’s whistle three times. “Cast off! Take her, Pilot Haynes.”

In response to the Pilot’s sure touch, our side thrusters released jets of propellant, rocking us from side to side. We broke free.

Lieutenant Crossburn, on the caller. “Forward airlock hatch secured, sir.”

“Secured, very well.” I paced the bridge while the Pilot held our thrusters at full acceleration, speeding us ever farther from the station and Detour’s field of gravity. In two hours, we’d be clear enough to Fuse.

Our return voyage had begun. Seven weeks to Hope Nation, then the long grim journey home. Iwould endure it. I must. I settled into my chair to prepare coordinates.

At last, all was ready. “Engine room prepared for Fusion, sir.”

I looked to the Pilot, raising my eyebrows. He nodded.

“Fuse the ship.” I ran my finger down the screen and the drive kicked in. The stars faded from the simulscreen. We entered the subetheral realm of nonspace, sailing from Detour on the crest of the N wave we generated.

That evening at dinner I played host to several young members of the Olympic team. Though sociable and friendly, they seemed unimpressed by the honor of the Captain’s table.

They talked animatedly among themselves, including me on occasion merely out of courtesy. After months among passengers who’d taken seating at the Captain’s table so seriously, 1 found their attitude refreshing.

Later, restless, I wandered the ship, where excited passengers explored corridors, lounges, and exercise rooms they’d soon find all too familiar. I wandered back to Level 1. Outside the wardroom Rafe Treadwell stood at attention, his nose to the bulkhead. Well, he’d asked for it. Enlistment was his own choice.

I slept badly, still keyed up from the bustle of departure. I knew it would take days to settle back into the dreary routine of Fusion. Nonetheless, I haunted the bridge, with nothing to do.”Have you noticed the Log, sir?” Lieutenant Chantir pointed to the past two days’ entries. “Mr. Tamarov, sloth-fulness, three demerits, by Mr. Tyre. Mr. Tamarov, unclean-Mess, two demerits.”So it had started again. I snapped off the Log without comment, leaned back.

“How long will it go on, sir?”

I opened one eye. “Until I say otherwise, First Lieutenant Chantir.”

He flushed. “Sorry, sir.”

“You’re a good officer,” I said. “But don’t nag.”

His smile was weak. “Aye aye, sir.” He changed the subject. “Have you ever played chess, sir?”

I came awake. “Yes, why?”

“I’m not very good, but I like to play. I’ll bet your puter plays a mean game, though.”

“Thank you.” Darla, in a dignified tone.

“I can’t play on the bridge, Lars. You know that.”

“Really? Captain Halstead played all the time. I loved to watch. Once he actually beat the puter.”

The speaker said, “She must have had an off day.”

“Butt out, Darla,” I growled. Then, “He actually played on watch?” Hope stirred.

Chantir said, “Sure, when we were Fused. What else is there to do?”

“Isn’t it against regs?”

“I read them again, sir, before bringing it up. They say you must stay alert. They don’t say you can’t read or play a game. All the alarms have audible signals, anyway.”

“I’ll warn you if we have a problem,” the puter said helpfully.

“Is this a conspiracy? Darla, did you ever play with an officer on watch?”

“Lots of us do. Janet said she sometimes let Halstead win just to keep his spirits up.”

‘“Captain Halstead’ to you. Janet is their puter, I suppose? When did you talk to her?”

“When her ship docked at Hope Nation to bring you your only intelligent officer, Midshi–I mean, Captain Seafort. I tightbeamed with her as a matter of routine.”

“Who did you play chess with, Darla?”

“Captain Haag, of course. He wasn’t much of a match.”

She sounded disconsolate.

I was flabbergasted. Justin Haag, whiling away the hours playing chess with his puter? I debated. “All right, set them up.”

She won in thirty-seven moves.

It relaxed me so much that I stood double watches just to be near her. After a week I rationed myself to one game a day; any more and I’d become addicted. When a game was over I busied myself studying my moves.

One happy day I forced a draw. A few hours later Alexi reported for duty, relieving Lieutenant Crossburn, who had radiated his silent disapproval during my game.

I was still jovial. “Take your seat, Mr. Tamarov.”

He gripped the back of his chair. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t sit.” A vein throbbed in his forehead.

My contentment vanished. “Have you been to Mr.

Chantir?”

“I just came from his cabin.” He stared straight ahead at the darkened screen.

“What for?”

“Nothing, sir. Absolutely nothing.” A long moment passed. “Sir, I want to resign from the Navy.”

“Permission refused,” I said instantly. I hesitated. “I’m sorry, Alexi.” I didn’t know what else to offer.

“Yes, sir.” His voice was flat. He added, “Do you have

a reason?”

“For what?”

“Waiting. Not doing anything about him.”

“You’re out of line, Mr. Tamarov.”

“I don’t think I care anymore, sir.”

I cast aside my rebuke. “Yes. There’s a reason.” I nodded to the hatch. “You’re relieved, Alexi. Lie down for a while.”

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather stay here.” I understood.

On the bridge he was safe from the first middy.

“Very well.” I let him wait out the watch. Afterwards I ordered him to Dr. Uburu for healing ointment. He had no choice but to go. I think he was grateful.

I played no more chess for several days.

Mr. Crossburn performed his duties satisfactorily, as always. On his free time he roamed about the ship, asking questions. He finally exhausted the matter of the Treadwells.

Mr. Vishinsky brought me the news first. “Captain, I’ve been interrogated by one of our officers.” He stood at attention beside my chair.

“What about, Mr. Vishinsky?” No need to ask by whom.

“About Captain Haag’s death, sir. About how the launch happened to explode, and how the puter came to be glitched.

An implication was made that it was no accident.”

My heart pounded. “You know better than to tell tales on a superior officer, Mr. Vishinsky. You’re rebuked.”

“Yes, sir.” He appeared undisturbed. “What should I do when he questions me, sir?”

“If he orders you to answer, do so. Obey all orders else place yourself on report.”

“Aye aye, sir. May I go?”

“Yes.” I watched him leave. “Thank you,” I added, as the hatch closed behind him. I willed my heart to stop slamming against my ribs. Crossburn was a lunatic. He was only a step from endangering the ship.

As soon as my watch was done I went to my cabin. I stared into my mirror. “You’re the Captain,” I told my image. It gave no response. “You have the authority. Remember Vax’s story about his uncle, the lawyer? He had to remind himself that his clients weren’t in trouble because he’d failed them, but because they had fouled up in the first place.”

I scowled at myself in the mirror. “So why do you feel guilty?”

A rhetorical question; I already knew the answer. If I were competent, I’d have found a way to avoid this mess.

“But don’t they have it coming, nonetheless?”

I started at myself for a long while, then sighed. I still felt guilty.

At lunch I chose to sit next to Mr. Crossburn instead of at the small table where I would be undisturbed.

He started almost immediately. “What kind of man was Captain Haag, sir?”

“Well, I was just a middy. To me he seemed remote and stern. They say he was an excellent navigator and pilot.” 1 took a bite out of my sandwich, decided to give Mr. Crossburn more rope. “His death was a tragic loss.”

He seized the opportunity. “How could a puter glitch have gone undiscovered so long, before it destroyed the launch? If you’re sure it wasn’t known earlier, that is.”

I spoke very quietly. “I can’t tell you now. See me after lunch; we’ll talk then. I have a job for you.”

“Aye aye, sir.” We ate in silence. I pretended not to notice his speculative glance.

I waited for him in my cabin. When the knock came ! went out, shutting my hatch behind me. “Come with me.

Lieutenant.” I took him down to Level 2, through the lock into the launch berth, where our new launch waited in its gantry. “This is where it was,” I said. He looked puzzled.

Of course this was where it was. Where else would you stow a ship’s launch? “I need someone I can trust.” Galvanized, he leaned forward with excitement. “It might have been sabotage,” I said with care. “A bomb hidden in one of the seats. It could happen again. I need you to check the seats.”

“You mean take the seats apart? Unbolt them all and remove them?”

“That’s right.” I waited while he thought it over. “I know I can trust you, Lieutenant Crossburn. With your Admiralty connections you’re invaluable.”

A look of satisfaction crossed his face. “I’ll get a work party on it right away.”

“Oh, no.” I looked alarmed. “Nobody must know. If it really is sabotage, we can’t tip them off. Do it yourself.”

“Alone?” He seemed disconcerted. “It’ll take all day, sir.”

“I know. It can’t be helped. Unbolt all the seats, take them out, open them for inspection. I’ll come back later to see how you’re doing. We won’t put the seats back until we’re sure they’re all right.”

“Aye aye, sir.” His tone was doubtful. “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “Very sure.” I left him.

I posted orders at the launch berth hatch that no one was to enter, and went about my business. An hour before dinner I went to check on him.

About half of the fourteen seats had been removed, their components spread about the bay. Crossburn had draped his jacket over one of them and pulled off his tie. I found him in the launch, on his back under one of the seats, struggling to work loose the bolts.

“Good work, Lieutenant. Find anything yet?”

“No, sir. Everything’s normal.” He wriggled out from underneath the seat.

“No, stay where you are. I’ll be.back later.” I went to dinner. I ate well.

It was past midnight before he finished reassembling the launch. I met him coming out of the berth, face smeared with grease, jacket slung over his arm.

I whispered,”You’re sure there was nothing, Lieutenant?”

“Absolutely sure, sir.” He seemed anxious to get to his cabin. I could imagine how the night’s diary entry would read.

“I knew I could count on you.” I walked him through the lock. “Now we know the launch is safe, for the moment. I want you to check it again tomorrow.”

He went pale.

“Is something the matter?”

“But, sir,” he stammered. “We just disassembled all the seats. We know there’s no bomb there.”

I leaned close. “There isn’t now. During the night they might try to put one in.”

“Sir, that’s not–”

“We have to know for sure.” My voice grew cold. “Unbolt and disassemble all the seats again first thing tomorrow.

That’s an order.”

“But, sir–”

I was icy. “What does an officer say when he hears an order, Mr. Crossburn? Or didn’t your uncle tell you that?”

“Aye aye, sir! I’ll start again in the morning, sir!” He knew enough to retreat.

I returned to my cabin.

The next day I checked him at lunchtime. Again, seats were strewn all over the bay. I went to lunch, fueled by a grim satisfaction. I timed him; it took Lieutenant Crossburn just over twelve hours to tear down and reassemble all the launch seats. Having started just after breakfast, he was done by ten in the evening.

The next morning I was on the watch roster. Mr. Crossburn arrived, scheduled to share the watch. “Lieutenant, you’re relieved from watch. I have a more important job for you.

Tear down and recheck the launch seats.”

He stood slowly. “Captain, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I feel fine.” I stretched luxuriously. “Why do you ask?”

“You can’t want me to tear the launch apart three days in a row, sir.”

“Can’t I? Acknowledge your orders, Lieutenant.”

Stubbornly, he shook his head. “Sir, I insist that you put them in writing.” He spoke with confidence, knowing I would do no such thing.

“Certainly.” I snapped on the Log and took a laserpencil.

“I order Lieutenant Ardwell Crossburn to remove and disassemble all the seats on the ship’s launch and check them for hidden explosives before reinstalling them, as he has done each of the past two days. Signed, Nicholas Seafort, Captain.” I showed it to him. “Is that in proper form, Lieutenant?”

He was trapped. “Aye aye, sir. I have no choice.”

“True. You have no choice. Dismissed.”

Alone on the bridge I played chess with Darla. I was ahead on the fourteenth move when the caller buzzed.

“Sir, Lieutenant Chantir.” He sounded grim. “I have Mr.

Tamarov in my cabin with eleven demerits. I’m sorry, but I will need your written order before I proceed.” He was a decent man, and he’d had enough.

The moment was approaching. “Certainly, Lieutenant.

Come to the bridge at once.” When he arrived I handed him a paper. He glanced at it. “I protest your order, sir.”

“I understand. Carry it out anyway.”

“May I ask why, sir?”

“Tomorrow at dinner, if you still want to.” That puzzled him; he saluted and left the bridge. I lost my game to Darla.

That night before going to bed I stood again in front of my mirror. I didn’t like the face I saw. I told myself what I was doing was necessary, and didn’t believe a word of it.

Restless and uneasy, I left my cabin again. I passed Lieutenant Crossburn’s cabin, once Mr. Malstrom’s. On the spur of the moment I went to the infirmary. Dr. Uburu was there, reading a holovid.

“Good evening, Captain.” She saw my face. “What’s troubling you?” Only the Ship’s Doctor could ask the Captain such a question. Perhaps it was the reason I’d gone to her.

I slumped in a chair. “I’ve used a friend, manipulated him, and I’m disgusted with myself.”

“Yours is a lonely job,” she said. “Sometimes one can’t do directly what must be done. Is it for the good of the ship?” “I think so,” I said. “I’m not sure.”

“We’re seldom sure, Nic–Captain. If you believe it’s for the good of the ship, isn’t that enough?”

“Then why am I miserable?”

“You tell me.” It was a challenge, in its calm, quiet style.

I avoided it. “Because of my weakness, I guess. I wish I were wise enough to find another way.”

“I absolve you.” She smiled at me. “Sleep well tonight.”

“I don’t want a pill.”

“I didn’t offer one.” I started for the corridor. “I wish I could help you, Captain,” she said. “But you have to help yourself.” Puzzled, I went back to my cabin. I went to bed and slept peacefully.

In the morning I met Alexi and Derek at breakfast. Both studiously avoided my eye. At noon I took my place on the bridge. Vax Holser and I sat in silence. When the watch was done I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Tyre, bring Mr. Tamarov to the bridge.” Vax looked at me curiously.

The midshipmen arrived. “Permission to enter bridge, sir.” Philip Tyre’s voice was firm and vibrant. He snapped a smart salute.

“Granted.” They came to attention. “Darla, please record these proceedings. I, Captain Nicholas Seafort, do commission Midshipman Alexi Tamarov to the Naval Service of the Government of the United Nations and do appoint him Lieutenant, by the Grace of God.” Alexi was stunned.

Philip Tyre swallowed, his face ashen.

“Mr. Tyre, you are dismissed. Lieutenant Tamarov, you will remain.” With jerky motions Philip Tyre saluted, turned, and left the bridge. As soon as the hatch closed Vax leaped up with a whoop. He pounded Alexi on the back.

“Easy, Mr. Holser, you’ll kill him!” Vax’s brotherly blows could break ribs.

“Congratulations, Alexi!” Vax turned to me with a wide grin. “It’s wonderful news, sir.” Alexi didn’t move.

“You’re free, Alexi,” I told him quietly. “Free of him.”

“Am I?” Alexi spoke without inflection. “Will I ever be?” Unbidden, he sank into a chair, wincing. He began to sob.Shocked, Vax withdrew a step. I motioned him to wait in the corridor.

After a time Alexi gained control of himself. “Why did you leave me there so long?”

“So you’d be sure.” I despised myself.

“Of what?”

“I already have three lieutenants; you won’t be overwhelmed with duties. I’m putting you in charge of the midshipmen. Put things back in order.”

He thought about it. Silence stretched for over a minute.

“Don’t,” he said in a small voice. “I beg you; don’t put me in charge of him.”

“It’s done. Those are your orders.”

“I swore an oath to myself, Mr. Seafort. I won’t be able to stop.”

“I wanted you to be certain whom you were dealing with.” I stood. “So I waited until it was absolutely clear. Perhaps too long. I’m sorry, if that’s any use.” I was too ashamed to meet his eye, so I paced, my eye traversing the bulkheads.

“It’s a long cruise home. I have the welfare of the other midshipmen to consider. Keep them safe, Alexi. Do what you must.”

He put his head in his hands, then rubbed his face. He offered a tentative smile. “Sorry, sir. I’ve been a bit...

emotional lately. It’s like waking from a nightmare.”

“I know what that’s like,” I said. “Believe me.”

28

The next day I called the engine room to give Chief McAndrews private instructions. Then I summoned Mr. Crossburn and handed him a written standing order to disassemble and inspect the launch seats every day until further notice.

He looked around wildly, as if for escape. “Captain, I

can’t do that. Not all day, every day!”

I was inflexible. “You can and you will.”

“I protest, Captain!”

“Noted. Begin your work.”

“No, that’s crazy!”

“What did you say?”

“I said no! You can’t mean it.”

“Mr. Crossburn, come with me.” I led him, protesting, down the ladder to the engine room, to the lower level at the fusion drive shaft. The plank I had ordered the Chief to make ready was set across it; Mr. Me Andrews stood by, his face a

grim mask.

“Stand at attention and look at the shaft.” Crossburn did so.

“This is where I hanged Mr. Tuak and Mr. Rogoff. And the rebels who tried to take over the ship. It’s been a rough voyage and we’re on the way back to Miningcamp, where we were attacked once before. Hiberniais in an emergency zone, Mr, Crossburn, and war rules apply. I tell you now, if you refuse to obey an order, I will hang you. Be silent and think about it.”

I gave him ten minutes. Then I released him. “Go to the launch berth.”

Shaken, he complied. “Aye aye, sir.” Then he added angrily, “You can be sure my uncle will hear of this!”

“Two months pay, Mr. Crossburn, for insolence and insubordination. Anything else?”

“No, sir!” He fled.

I looked at the Chief, let out my breath.

He asked, “What if he’d refused, sir?”

“I’d have had to proceed.” A sudden thought. “Would you have let me?”

“By the regs, I couldn’t stop you.”

“That was no answer.” I decided not to press. I’d made enemies of them all, abovedecks. Why alienate the Chief as well? Several days later I shared a watch with Philip Tyre. He looked pale and shaken. I said nothing.

Vax chose to keep me informed. “Alexi’s all over him, sir. Demerits for attitude, for sloppiness, for inattention.

Twice he’s sent him to the barrel outright, in addition to the demerits.”

“I know. I can read the Log.”

“Yes, sir. Philip is going to have an interesting cruise.”

He would indeed. Alexi was slow to anger and I doubted he would be faster to forgive. I shrugged. Tyre had made his bed.”When are you going to let him off, sir?”

“I’m not.”

Vax looked awed.”All the way home? Eighteen months?”

“Seventeen and a half.” I wondered how soon I could start counting the days.

The Olympians had taken over Level 2, jogging endlessly in the circumference corridor, swinging from the bars in the exercise room, doing push-ups on the mats. From time to time Philip Tyre joined them, sweating profusely in strenuous effort, supervised by a stern and watchful lieutenant.

Soon we would Defuse for a navigation check. Then a few more days to Hope Nation, and our mooring. We’d remain there only two days, just enough to take on passengers for the trip home. Somewhere below me would be Amanda, but I wouldn’t see her again.

Dr. Uburu came to the bridge to speak to me. “Captain, Lieutenant Crossburn has been questioning your sanity. He wants me to join him in removing you.”

“Is he correct?”

She looked at me thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. You might be vindictive, but not insane.”

“Thanks so much.”

She smiled. “Captain, do you recall when the Chief, the Pilot, and I met to find a way to stop your taking command?” “Yes.”

“I can’t believe how wrong we were. This is a jinxed voyage, Captain. Hiberniawill go down in Navy legends.

There’s nothing that hasn’t gone wrong for us. And you’ve coped with it all. You’ve done better than anyone had a right to expect.”

I looked at her to see if she was serious, angry at her blind stupidity. “Leave the bridge at once, Doctor. That’s an order!”

“Aye aye, sir.” She saluted and left, unfazed by my anger.

She thought well of me, perhaps, like the foolish seamen in the Hope Nation bar. But I knew better. I had Philip Tyre and Ardwell Crossburn to add to my long list of failures.

Days later, Lieutenant Chantir told me Philip had been sent to him again. Lars was obviously unhappy.

“I don’t need daily reports, Lieutenant. Just do your duty.”

“I will, sir. It’s not a pleasurable one.”

“Even with Mr. Tyre?”

“Even with him, whether he earned it or not.”

“It’s the first lieutenant’s job, Mr. Chantir.” I brightened.

“However, if your arm bothers you I will excuse you for medical reasons.”

He considered it. “My arm is troubling me somewhat, Captain. Not enough to see the Doctor, but it’s noticeable.”

“Very well.” I summoned Alexi. “Mr. Tamarov, the first lieutenant has a sore arm. Move the barrel to your cabin. That duty is yours until further notice.” Ruefully, Mr. Chantir shook his head. Alexi, expressionless, saluted and left.

I went to the launch berth every day at random hours. I always found Lieutenant Crossburn at work.

I shared a watch with Philip Tyre. He walked carefully onto the bridge and eased himself into his chair. “Good morning, sir.” His tone was meek, his eyes riveted on his console.

“Good morning. I’d like you to run docking drill today, Mr. Tyre.”

“Aye aye, sir.” I called up the exercise and he began his calculations. Halfway through, he stopped and looked up. “It isn’t fair, sir.”

“What isn’t?”

“What he’s doing to me. I can’t stand it. Please.”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Tyre?”

“Mr. Tamarov. He’s after me all the time!”

“Are you complaining about your superior, Philip?”

He didn’t have the sense to deny it. “Not exactly complaining, sir. I’m just telling you.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Tyre. That won’t do. My compliments to Mr. Tamarov. Please tell him I’m annoyed with your conduct.

Right now.”“

“I’ve just been there,” he wailed. “He’ll cane me again! Please, sir. Please!”

I raised my voice a notch. “And six demerits for disobedience, Mr. Tyre. Another word and it’s six more.” He fled the bridge to meet his fate. Never again did I hear a word of complaint from Philip. On the few occasions that I saw him he appeared miserable. It bothered me not at all.

At last it was time for our nav check, before a final jump to Hope Nation.”Bridge to engine room, prepare to Defuse.” “Prepare to Defuse, aye aye, sir.”

I waited.

“Engine room ready for Defuse, sir. Control passed to bridge.” The Chief’s familiar voice came steady over the caller.

“Passed to bridge, aye aye.” I set my finger at the top of the drive screen while Derek watched. “Let’s see where we are.” I traced a line from “Full” to “Off’.

“Confirm clear of encroachments, Derek.” A normal check, hardly necessary but part of the routine. He checked his instruments.

“Hey! An encroachment, sir, course two hundred ten, distance fifty-two thousand kilometers!”

I gaped. “What?”

“Encroachment, sir. There’s something out there.”

“It can’t be. We’re interstellar.” I puzzled. “A stray asteroid, perhaps. How big is it?”

“I read two hundred sixteen meters, sir.” Darla.

“Small for a planetoid. What’s it made of?”

“Metal,” Darla said. “Too far away to see, but it’s radiating on the metallic bands.”

I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Haynes to the bridge. And Mr.

Chantir.” No, Lars Chantir had a fever and was in sickbay.

“Belay that summons, Mr. Chantir. Mr. Holser to the bridge.”

Vax came bounding in. He stopped to take in the situation.

A few moments later Mr. Haynes arrived, breathing hard.

The Pilot slipped into his customary seat. “Morning, sir.”

He glanced at the sensors. “Want to go take a look?”

“Good morning, Pilot. I think so.”

Vax nodded. “If we’re this close, we might as well check it out.” I hadn’t asked his opinion, but he didn’t seem to notice. “It’s probably just a hunk of ore skewing Darla’s calculations.”

“Button it, joey!” Darla flared. “I remember the last time you insulted me!”

“Cool it, Darla. He meant no harm. Pilot, put us on an intersecting course.”

“Aye aye, sir. Just a moment.” Pilot Haynes was carefully affable. I felt a twinge of guilt. He thumbed his caller. “Engine room, auxiliary power.”

“Auxiliary power on standby.”

“On standby, aye aye. All ahead one-half. Steer two ten, declination twenty degrees.”

“All ahead one-half, aye aye. Two ten at twenty degrees.”

After two hours, the Pilot at last began braking maneuvers.

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Holser, start calculating Fusion coordinates for our jump, please. No need to waste time.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Vax reluctantly tore his eyes from the simulscreen and tapped figures into his console.

We were closing fast. “Maximum magnification, Darla.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” The screen flickered.

The unmistakable outline of a ship.

“Holy God!” The Pilot was on his feet.

Vax looked up from his calculation and froze.

The Pilot whispered, “One of ours!”

I swallowed. Not again. All those people. “Focus on the disk, Darla,” Pointless; we were already at maximum magnification.

The image expanded slowly as we neared. Darla obediently narrowed her view to the ship’s disk.

A gash ran across all three levels, right down to the engine room, as if parts of the hull had melted. The entire disk was open to vacuum.

The name stood out against the gray metal of the hull.

“Telstar!”Vax whispered. “Gone, like Celestina.No lights, no power. No signals.”

There might somehow be survivors. “Pilot, bring us alongside. Mr. Holser, organize a boarding party. Three seamen.

We’ll take the gig.”

“Aye aye, sir. Shall I go with them?”

“No.”

“Lieutenant Tamarov, then?”

“No. Me.” I saw Vax’s expression and added, “I need to know firsthand what happened.” For a brief moment I recalled Captain Van Walther, and the crowds of travelers who visited the memorial he’d left on Celestina.With shame I suppressed the comparison.

Vax was stubborn. “It could be dangerous, sir. Don’t leave the ship.”

“This time it’s in good hands. Mr. Chantir, Alexi, you.

I’m going across; don’t argue.”

I’d left him no choice. “Aye aye, sir.”

I made it even clearer.”Lieutenant Holser, you will remain aboard under all circumstances.”

“Aye aye, sir.” His tone was glum.

I smiled. “Besides, I’ll be all right. I’ll carry a rad meter and stay away from jagged metal. Don’t be my nanny.” That produced a reluctant smile.

The Pilot carefully maneuvered us to within two hundred meters of U.N.S. Telstar.With gentle applications of the thrusters he brought us to rest relative to the stricken vessel.

“Vax, be prepared to Fuse as soon as I’m back. Derek, come help me with my suit.”

We went down to Level 2. I took my regular suit from its bin in the launch berth lock and began to struggle into it.