One evening, Jenks suggested they anchor for the night in the lee of a low but expansive atoll. Far to the east southeast, a high, hazy shoreline could be seen. They’d raised Respite at last. Jenks said picking their way through the jumble of shoals from this direction could be hazardous in the dark, however, so Captain Reddy agreed to the pause and invited Jenks and his officers to dinner. To the frank amazement of everyone, Tabby had apparently turned the corner, and she’d finally been moved to her berth in the aft crew’s quarters. She hardly got any sleep, to hear Spanky go on about it, what with everyone “carrying on over her so,” but Spanky himself still visited her at least twice a day. In any event, the wardroom was finally clear and the ship’s officers could gather there once again.
This was the first time there’d been a “social” meeting of the two commanders in weeks, and despite the carefully cleaned uniforms, all the Imperials looked tired and hard-used, with the possible exception of Ensign—now Lieutenant—Parr, who’d been given command of Icarus. When the Imperials were piped aboard, Matt and his side party returned their salutes with pleasure after each and every one of them first saluted Walker’s flag. Matt reflected that they’d certainly come a long way since their first meeting. He shook Jenks’s hand, but had to raise an eyebrow at O’Casey, or “Bates,” as Jenks called him. The one-armed former “rebel” now wore the uniform of an Imperial Navy lieutenant.
“Coming up in the world, aren’t you, Sean?” he said with a grin.
O’Casey shrugged. “’Tis really a demotion, I fear,” he said. “From beleaguered leader o’ the resistance, to mere lieutenant ...” He shook his head. “How the mighty are felled.”
Jenks snorted. “I presume you prefer the fit of that uniform to a rope, do you not? Besides, you have converted me to your cause. At least you might still accomplish something without being shot on sight.”
O’Casey grinned. “Aye, there’s that! I’ve often heard it said ’tis better ta serve in hell than be led ta the gallows—an’ then serve in hell!” That provoked a round of chuckles. Matt already knew there’d been some classic books aboard the ships of Jenks’s ancestors. Matt had read many such books, and his ability to swap occasional literary references reinforced the common, if distant, heritage that his human destroyermen shared with the Imperials. In this instance, the deliberate misquote and O’Casey’s and Jenks’s banter confirmed that the two men were still getting along. After having once been friends, the two had become deadly enemies. Now, with Jenks’s discovery that O’Casey’s rebellion against the Company had been justified—if possibly premature—it seemed almost as if the years of hatred had fallen away. Matt knew Jenks hadn’t needed to make O’Casey even a lieutenant. Essentially he’d evolved into Jenks’s own version of Matt’s Chief Gray—friend, discreet confidant, and personal protector.
O’Casey might not have the widespread, generally positive reputation Gray enjoyed, but he basically filled the same niche. Both men were large and powerful, but still considerably more than they appeared at first glance. O’Casey was the younger of the two, in his mid-forties. His hair had gone salt and pepper, including the wide handlebar mustaches trimmed much like the one Jenks wore, except in O’Casey’s case the ends weren’t braided but twisted and waxed. His skin was darker too, alluding to an ancestry mixed with the original “passage era” partial Lascar crews, or transportees aboard the eighteenth-century East Indiamen the Imperials had arrived in from the same world as the destroyermen. O’Casey himself professed to know little about his early lineage. His dark skin might even have come from other sources that Matt was just beginning to learn about.
“Well,” Matt said, “why don’t we adjourn to the wardroom? Mr. Marcos assures me that he’s managed to put something edible together.”
“Yes, thank you, Captain Reddy,” said Jenks. He paused, glancing about at the destroyermen within earshot, the men in particular. He seemed a bit pensive when he continued. “Now that we stand on the brink of meeting more of my people ... ah, civilians for the first time, there are a few things we should perhaps discuss so that there are no ... misunderstandings, as it were.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Matt practically exploded. He half rose from his seat, nearly overturning his coffee cup.
Jenks made a visible effort to control his voice. “I am not. And though I do not personally approve of the ... institution, I’m no crazed abolitionist either. It’s a practice that has served the Empire well for many generations—the tool that ensured our very survival! On the other hand, I do believe its time has largely passed and I admit to certain ... moral objections to its continuation. It’s not a practice that can simply be ‘shut off,’ however. It’s too ingrained, too much a part of our society. Arguably, the Company is largely responsible for that, and my hope is that once we’ve dealt with it, we can begin a gradual dissolution of all the immoral institutions it supports.”
“Holy ...” Gray breathed. “They own women like pets!”
“How do you buy one?” Campeti asked wonderingly, and Matt glared at him.
“It’s not slavery—” Jenks insisted, but Matt interrupted.
“The hell it’s not!”
“It is not slavery,” Jenks continued determinedly, “and they’re NOT property ... as such. They are ‘obligated,’ however, and there’s a value placed on that ‘obligation.’ ”
Selass stood so suddenly that she upset the table again and did knock over a couple of cups. Matt was glad they’d waited until the meal was over before beginning the discussion in earnest, otherwise much of Juan’s hard work would have wound up on the green linoleum deck.
“This is the most shocking, barbaric thing I’ve ever heard of!” she spat. “I can guarantee that my father, the Great Keje-Fris-Ar will be no party to this ... abomination! There can be no ‘alliance’ with people such as you!”
“Ah ... Madam ... uh ...” Jenks sputtered.
“The title’s ‘Nurse Lieutenant,’ Commodore,” Matt said icily.
“Nurse Lieutenant ... Fris-Ar,” Jenks continued. “You have my most abject apology for disturbing you, but it is not I who adopted this policy, nor, as I said, do I condone it now. That said, is it more barbaric than the Grik? You’ve heard me mention the so-called ‘Holy Dominion,’ but you don’t know Them yet. I assure you that ‘barbarous’ as the Empire may suddenly seem in your eyes, barbarity can be a very relative thing.”
“But ... to keep females in bondage ... !”
Jenks sighed. “Believe me, I sympathize with your dismay. Please try to imagine mine. I have never been witness to any civilization in which women—females—are so fully integrated into the mainstream of society. Female warriors! Doctors! Leaders! It boggles the mind! Among the various cultures I’ve met, I’ve discovered a few—similar to that from which your ‘Lawrence’ springs, I have no doubt—where there is a matriarchy, but their queen is the only female who wields great power. Otherwise, our ‘system’ would seem to reflect the norm on this world. Regardless, after long association, I have managed to grow ... accustomed to the way you do things.” He turned to Matt. “Your Sandra Tucker, one of the very reasons for this expedition—you cannot imagine my surprise when I first divined that not only was she an important political figure, but you actually consulted her on matters of policy! Do you remember that day you took me on a tour of industrial works and your shipyard? That was the first time I fully realized ... I was shocked and troubled, I admit, but she also made some quite excellent points about our mutual interests, if you’ll recall. They certainly made an impression on me.” He turned back to Selass, still standing before him. “Our females are not strictly in ‘bondage,’ as you say. Most are quite free. Some, such as the princess, even enjoy tremendous power. In certain circumstances, historically, her predecessors have even been the ‘matriarchal’ exception to the rule. Some females are ‘obligated,’ however, as I said, but there are strict laws concerning their treatment. They owe a debt and must ‘work it off.’”
Matt suddenly understood a lot that had remained mysterious to him before; subtle comments or turns of phrase from both Jenks and Princess Rebecca returned to the forefront of his mind. He did remember Jenks’s odd behavior whenever Sandra was around and openly voicing opinions and exercising authority in a way that he now knew Imperial females, no matter how highborn, simply didn’t do. Evidently, of all female Imperials, only Princess Rebecca, as heir to the Governor-Emperor’s throne, had real status and authority within the Empire.
“Indentured servitude, then,” Spanky growled.
Jenks nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. A far more appropriate term than ‘slavery,’ at any rate.”
“Not much different in practice, though,” said Lieutenant Palmer. “Who do they owe their ‘debt’ to? The Company?”
“That depends,” Jenks confessed. “Most do. Some owe it to individuals, some to industrialists, planters, and other commercial concerns. Some owe their debt to society as a whole, since in many cases it is purchased by the Imperial Government. The Company provides much of the ‘supply’ and profits in the ‘trade,’ however.”
“The government buys them from the Company?” Matt demanded incredulously.
“No! The government buys their debt!”
“Same thing,” Matt insisted. He was horrified as much by what he was learning as by the sick feeling that he’d embraced such people as “friends.” Sure, women hadn’t even had the right to vote in the U.S. for long—and sometimes he honestly wondered if that had been a mistake or not—but that aside, the ideal of “gentlemanly behavior” in the world he remembered was to protect and defend the “weaker sex,” to guard their virtue and even, to a degree, place them on a pedestal of honor. Women were the guardians of civilization. They bore and raised children, made the home, and were often acknowledged as the “power behind the throne.” Some, like the late queen of England, wielded considerable power from the throne itself. At any rate, it was women who protected the foundations of humanity even while men did their best to tear them apart. In a very fundamental way, regardless of the political reasons behind any war, men forever volunteered to fight to protect their women, their families, and their homes from the very horrors they marched off to meet. It was ingrained in men, particularly officers of any service he’d ever known, to protect, defer to, and be courteous to all women—not to own them.
It had been hard enough on Matt and many of his destroyermen to recognize the complete equality of the sexes among Lemurians. Sandra had already defiantly staked a claim to equal status aboard his ship before they ever really met the ’Cats, but she was different. She’d become the medical officer, and some measure of risk was inherent in that, as well as their overall situation. It wasn’t as if they’d put her on a gun crew! But then, when they met the Lemurians, and began accepting Lemurian cadets aboard the ship, they couldn’t discriminate based on sex, because it would have profoundly offended their allies. Over time, Matt guessed they’d grown desensitized. Female ’Cats aboard ship, in the Army or Marines, or working in the factories, became a matter of course. Some “traditionalists” like Spanky might still act scandalized, but they accepted the situation and the necessity behind it. There were always rumors of interspecies ... associations, but in most cases they were still just rumors—with one glaring, possible exception.
Jenks looked around the table at the suddenly hostile faces. “Mr. Bates, would you care to give a history lesson?”
O’Casey glanced up from studying his spoon.
“Yeah, O’Casey, how about that?” Gray demanded. “How come you never said anything about this before?”
O’Casey cleared his throat. “Aye. Well, I could say ye never asked, but I doubt that’d satisfy ye. To be sure, at first it wasn’t an issue. When the darlin’ royal lass an’ I were marooned wi’ yer submariners, it made no difference. ’Twas hand ta mouth an’ little hope o’ rescue.” He bowed his head to those around the table. “Then, when ye came fer us in this lovely ship, ye might remember that ye had more immediate concerns than the domestic institutions o’ the Empire. An’ again, it didna’ signify. Later, as we told ye more o’ our situation, ’twas the princess herse’f who forbade me ta carry on aboot it. She was determined our peoples should be friends and cooperate against the evils o’ the world, an’ she feared this very reaction.” O’Casey looked at Jenks. “As her father’s only direct heir, an’ a ‘matriarchal exception,’ she’s quite the ‘crazed abolitionist,’ an’ after such long association wi’ the lass an’ these fine folk, ye might now add me ta that list.”
“I never doubted it,” Jenks replied. “And yet you are an Imperial Officer once more.” He glanced apologetically at Selass. “Might that at least gain me some credit as a ‘flexible’ barbarian?”
Selass huffed, but she did sit at last.
“In any event, Mr. ‘Bates/O’Casey,’ perhaps a more comprehensive ‘history lesson’ might build some slight mitigating context,” Jenks said.
“Aye ...” O’Casey paused, then took a long, slow breath. “Aye,” he said more firmly, gathering his thoughts. “The commodore an’ I, when once we were more ‘equal,’ used to engage in historical discussions, focused in the main upon ‘post-Passage’ subjects. I know you, Captain Reddy, are somethin’ of an historian yerself.” Matt nodded, a little selfconsciously. “Anyway, when the Founders first came this way, they were in much the same position as ye. Admittedly, they dina’ help the ‘locals’ with nearly the same zeal as ye, but in their defense, the threat wasna’ so pressin’ then. They chose ta hide from this terrible world. The rub was, even wi’ their greater numbers, there were, proportionately, just as few ‘dames,’ as ye call ’em. None went west wi’ the tragic ship the Grik managed ta take, but there were few enough. Ye an’ I ha’ discussed this oursevs. The ancient East Indiamen had many roles: part ‘freighter,’ ye call’em, part warship—ta pertect themsevs—an’ part passenger ship. They also transported convicts on occasion, as ye know.
“There were a grand total o’ fourteen ‘ladies’ among the passengers, two beyond child-bearin’ age, an’ some mere children.” He shrugged. “Well, the children grew up, but the ‘stable’ was still nearly bare, if ye know what I mean. By the by, descendants o’ them first ladies, if they’re ladies themselves, are not subject to the ‘institution’ bein’ discussed. They’re born free wi’ no ‘obligation’ a’tall. That said, there were nearly twenty female ‘transportees,’ whose original destination was actually a series of isles, not the land o’ ‘New Holland,’ or ‘Australia,’ as Mr. Bradford calls it. These women were bein’ transported for crimes, an’ that’s what the ‘System of Obligation’ was founded upon. They had ta ... ‘work’ their way through their terms o’ transportation, but were then available fer honorable matrimony wi’ the original crews. Their descendants were also ‘un-obligated,’ as the child canna’ be held responsible fer the crimes o’ the parent. Here, I must point out that, despite some resistance, any crew member was ultimately granted equal status within the law, regardless o’ ancestry.” He smirked. “There were too many Lascars amongst the crews—Indians, Arabs, Malays an’ the like—fer the officers ta do anythin’ else, so long before yer own ‘Revolution,’ against the Mythic Crown, there was true racial equality wi’in Imperial society. I willna’ say ’twas easy, or even bloodless, but it just had ta be. Finally, ’twas decided that any man who reached majority, swore ta hold fast ta Imperial law an’ forswear heathern religions in favor o’ the English faith, could enjoy full citizenship.” He shrugged. “There were problems, but ye’ve had some o’ those too, as I recall from our talks.
“Well, as ye can imagine, this didna’ solve every issue. We still had our own ‘dame famine’ fer a time. Then, one day, a storm-battered ship was rescued at sea an’ we first learned o’ the ‘Holy Dominion.’ ” He sipped the hot tea Jenks had brought aboard, still clearly savoring the flavor after subsisting so long on “coffee.” A couple of the other men and Chack were just
as glad to have the iced tea Juan had made from some gifted leaves.
“The survivors we took in were twisted souls an’ devoted to a form o’ popery we couldna’ fathom, but were as yet not as foul as they’ve become. We met their folk an’ traded wi’ them. At the time, they seemed as much in flux as we, although they’d been ‘here’ a longer time. Their holdin’s were confined to the central Americas an’ they seemed a mix o’ Spaniards from an Acapulco galleon an’ some Indians that had landed there sometime much earlier. At first our peoples got along well enough. This world is just as big as the old, an’ it can be a lonely place. They seemed as glad ta meet us as we did them.” He looked at Jenks.
“As ye may know,” O’Casey continued, “New Britain, or the ‘Hawaiian’ chain, has lovely, fertile ground, an’ at least on this world, fastgrowin’ hardwoods ta support a respectable shipbuildin’ industry, but it’s poor in other resources. We’d come ta the same conclusion as ye, that this world had much the same structure as our old, wi’ the exception of volcanic isles which appear inconsistent wi’ what the Founders knew before. The great continents seem little changed, however, wi’ a few strikin’ exceptions, so we knew where ta look fer what we needed. The Americas were wi’in our distant reach, so we made colonies there, north o’ Dominion territory, ta supply that need. As for the Dominion, the greatest surplus they had for trade was women.”
Rising Tides: Destroyermen Page 23