John recognised the signs. “Mister Tan.”
Tan paused, turning to John.
“Take a break. We’re not like to catch it for…”
There was a slight pause before McReidy provided the answer. “Five or six hours.”
That was too long for John’s liking. He flicked the intercom. “Engineering, I’d appreciate more speed.”
His tone was relaxed. Now that they were out of danger he was less formal.
He appreciated the value of his crew, which was why he chose to dismiss them from the bridge. They could all have a few hours to themselves. He didn’t need them to wait for replacements. Humphries would be champing at the bit and probably sitting outside the bridge door waiting his turn at the enemy.
It took a few seconds before any of them could move. The effort to do so apparent on all their faces. Even after Giacomo flicked the autopilot, his hands remained on the controls.
Tan moved first, seeming to be the catalyst for the others.
“McReidy, a moment,” John requested.
On his feet, Giacomo hesitated, tired eyes resting on McReidy.
“Go on, I’ll be there shortly,” she told him.
Humphries wasn’t waiting and the door closed behind them, leaving John and McReidy alone. He switched the log off.
“Happy now?” His eyes showed a softness that reflected his mood.
“Yes… but…”
“The fleet?” he guessed her concern.
She nodded.
One brow lifted slightly. “Between you and me, that was never our major concern. They were always going to be attacked. If Antigua’s any example, they’ll do just fine. At least there’s no reinforcements coming after them.”
She let out a breath of sheer exhaustion and rubbed the back of her hand across her brow.
“Go join the others.”
“Are you coming?” Her question was more than mere politeness.
He seemed almost about to agree when Humphries and the relief crew put in an appearance. “What? And leave this lot in charge?” he joked. “You’ve only got a few hours. Make the most of it.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
The words and the attempted serious tone made him turn back to her with a slight frown as he wondered what exactly she meant by it. Her broad grin made him smile. He shook his head slowly as he switched the log back on and updated the fresh crew on the current situation.
* * *
Two and a half hours later, McReidy and the others were called back to the bridge. Humphries wanted to take out the scout ship. A simple enough task in itself, now that they had caught up with it. It was what else might be around that worried John.
They were deep in enemy territory, chasing a scout ship back to a waiting fleet. Humphries could take the scout, but he wanted his best crew back if they were going to get jumped.
He needn’t have worried. The scout was alone – no ship breaking off the attack on the Earth fleet to come to her rescue – and no match for Bismarck. She had speed but her weapons were inferior. She had never been intended to fight.
Then it was back to Shimodo to pick up Kowalski and the others. At a much more sensible speed this time. Engineering was given their own way. The engines were suffering under the strain of the day’s events. A request to wind them down and pull all systems back into check was granted. An estimated time of arrival was ten to twelve hours.
There was nothing but clear space ahead of them, though sensors and communications continually scanned for danger.
At the end of shift, McReidy, Giacomo and Gillespie met up in the bar. A chance to relax and recount the day’s events, exploring the possibilities of improvement. Tan left them to it. He’d had enough of voices ripping through his head for one day and needed silence.
“Communications,” Gillespie sympathised. “It’s not as easy as people make out. You think it’s hectic what we hear? That’s only a fraction of what comes through his console and it thumps around your brain like…” He smiled. “Governor Cush was kind.”
They all tensed momentarily at the memory of that headache.
Soghra brought the drinks without being asked and retreated without a word.
McReidy fingered the straw and played with the lemon sprig. She let the others start, her mind too full of everything.
There were a few minor points where they believed a better choice could have been made. It was an unspoken rule that they never discussed John’s orders when they were made. Whatever they thought personally, he had to be obeyed. McReidy had found that to her grief.
There were times when he was open to discussion, that was different, and it was never behind his back. At other times, he always seemed a step ahead of them. He instinctively knew how they would react whereas they had to think about it.
McReidy had the uncomfortable feeling that Gillespie wanted to say something to her. She didn’t know if it was Giacomo’s presence that stopped him or some sort of doubt on his own part. It was nothing he said or did, just a feeling she had. Did she really know him that well that she could pick up on his feelings? Her eyes widened as she wondered if she was as easy to read.
A glance around at the almost empty bar and Gillespie couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “You knew what was going on, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?” McReidy took a long sip through the straw, emptying nearly half her glass. She kept her eyes down, avoiding Gillespie’s probing look.
“You know very well what I mean. Today. That was no accident.”
“I didn’t know we’d be running into four ships.”
“You could have warned us.”
“And bypassing Aran and the others wasn’t warning enough?”
“Not for that.”
Gillespie’s non condemning tone made her immediately feel guilty.
“I’m sorry.” She glanced up cautiously to Giacomo then Gillespie, asking forgiveness for what she felt was a lack of honesty. “I didn’t think it was my place.”
Neither man needed to forgive her. She had been put in an unenviable position.
“A little more warning would have been nice. I like to know what I’m looking for.”
“I thought we had plenty of time,” Giacomo defended.
“Thinking’s your whole problem,” Gillespie teased. “Nothing ever goes according to plan.”
“What plan?” McReidy mumbled under her breath
Gillespie’s quick glance told her he had heard. He continued undistracted to Giacomo. “You react better to circumstance. You haven’t got as much time to worry.”
“I don’t worry.” Giacomo looked to McReidy to back him.
“Yes, you do.” She had to agree with Gillespie.
“Especially since you took an interest in a certain young lieutenant…” Gillespie deliberately trailed off, seeking a reaction.
Giacomo glanced at his watch and downed the rest of his drink. “I have a dinner date with a certain young lieutenant.” He stood up, leaning over the table to look down at Gillespie as he repeated his words. “So I am going to leave you two miserable souls to yourselves.”
“He’s getting quite cheeky, isn’t he?” Gillespie asked as Giacomo disappeared.
“I think we both deserved that.” There was an awkward silence for a moment. McReidy’s glass was empty and she suddenly decided to escape while she could.
“Don’t think you’re getting off that lightly.” Gillespie’s hand covered hers, almost forbidding her to move.
“Steve –” she began slowly.
“Oh, so it’s Steve now, is it. That means one of three things… You’re definitely not flirting with me.” He moved his hand from hers and began to count off the choices on his other fingers. “This is not a social discussion… So you want me to shut up,” he decided. “All right, I’ll shut up. Just answer me one question.”
The look she gave him told him that would depend on the question.
“It was always Shimodo he was protecting, wasn’
t it? There wasn’t the same passion about Antigua.”
McReidy nodded. Passion was not a word she would have used to describe John’s actions, but she realised it described him perfectly.
Gillespie didn’t have to ask anything else. “I guess we don’t have to worry about him any more. I’m glad he’s finally started to confide in someone.”
“Giacomo’s not the only one with other commitments.”
“You’re going to desert me too? Where are you off to?”
“None of your business. But don’t worry, you’ll soon find someone to keep you company.”
McReidy had accepted John’s postponed invitation to watch the second half of the cricket match. There were a million other things she could have been doing. Since they had started this whole escapade together it seemed somehow right to finish it that way. Not that it was finished yet. After all, it meant another trip back to Shimodo to pick up Kowalski and the others.
*
“It’s open,” John called in answer to the beep.
McReidy let herself in and found him sprawled across the lounge, his eyes riveted to the screen.
“I thought you might have changed your mind,” he barely acknowledged her presence.
“Well I didn’t… So shove over.”
He moaned half heartedly as he dragged himself to an upright position. As his eyes met hers, she saw that he was happy. Genuinely happy. He seemed to have an inner peace about him. It reminded her of how he looked when he was asleep.
His gaze returned to the screen, his feet automatically rose to the coffee table.
“Get your feet –”
She was cut off by a glare that reminded her where she was. There was none of the usual antagonism that came with it. Instead, there was a sense that she could take whatever liberties she wished with him tonight – and get away with it.
“The guys aren’t very happy,” she spoke cautiously, testing his mood.
“They’ll forgive me,” he shrugged off the comment dismissively. “You might not, but they will.”
She turned sharply to face him; his eyes remained on the screen. “What do you mean, I might not?”
“Because you’re a woman,” he told her, as though the answer was obvious.
She was glad to see that he had noticed – she was beginning to wonder. He didn’t treat her the same as the other women on the ship. He didn’t quite treat her as one of the men either. He was cautious, respectful, and downright infuriating. She thought that it reflected their past history and the uneasy truce they had called. The more they had come to depend on each other, the easier that truce was to keep.
However, the comment rattled her a little. It wasn’t meant to be derogatory and yet she couldn’t help feeling like getting back at him.
John found it difficult to really get into the game, especially since Sean had unwittingly told him the result. He was becoming restless and easily distracted. He got up and fixed himself a drink, not forgetting McReidy. She thanked him. As he sat down, his feet automatically rose to the coffee table.
“You know half the girls on this ship have got a crush on you.”
The comment stopped him in his tracks. He was slowly swirling his drink around the bottom of his glass. His hand froze; his mind went blank. He wasn’t aware that he held his breath for a few seconds. The drink swirled again.
“I believe you all know where I stand on that issue.”
The tone was matter of fact. She had touched on a personal subject, but his answer wasn’t a warning to back off. Not yet, anyway.
“Maybe some of us don’t,” she teased innocently.
“Then maybe you should ask someone to enlighten you.” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes that dared her to continue.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Now it was becoming too personal and he skilfully changed the direction.
“If you’re talking about Kat,” he sipped his drink, allowing a moment to gather his thoughts, “that’s all it is. Just a crush. She’s been in out of love a hundred times. I get the job of picking up the pieces.”
“And a good job you do of it, I’m told.”
She had piqued his curiosity and he threw her an inquiring glance.
“You may be surprised to know that you are not the current topic of discussion,” she informed him.
“Actually, I’m quite relieved. I am, after all, only a man and just as susceptible to your feminine ways as any man on board this ship. Once you girls set your sights, there’s no hope for any of us.”
She folded her arms across her chest, lowered her head slightly to zero her focus in on him and raised one eyebrow.
“At the moment, I would probably say it’s Giacomo,” he continued, barely hiding a smirk at her reaction.
“It was,” McReidy confessed. She relaxed, picked up her glass and sank back into the lounge. “Until Lorraine threatened to knock out the first one who laid a hand on him.”
“I hope you didn’t tell him that,” John grinned. “I don’t think his ego could stand it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I assume Kowalski and Gillespie got the usual rundown.”
A slight blush and lack of an answer confirmed that comment.
“And what poor unsuspecting man have you staked a claim on? Or are you saving that honour for Sean?”
He caught her mood darken as he finished his drink and put his glass down. She had started getting personal with him, now he was getting personal. As he resettled, she put her glass on the floor, grabbed the cushion beside her and slammed it into his chest.
The first thump caught him by surprise. As he realised she was going to make a second attempt, he wriggled out of the way and made a grab at her. He found himself leaning backwards over the arm of the lounge. Catching both her forearms, he unbalanced her. She fell heavily on top of him, the cushion separating them, their faces inches apart.
His big brown eyes shone. He had succeeded in rattling her.
“I am not in love with Sean,” she told him between gritted teeth.
“I know that.” His tone was calm and serious.
A sudden roar from the screen grabbed his attention. His eyes flashed to it, then back to McReidy.
“Would you mind getting off me? And pass me the remote since you just made me miss that wicket.”
She obliged and retreated to the far end of the lounge, drawing the cushion back with her as though it kept a barrier between them. He straightened himself up and rewound the disk to just before the fall of wicket.
A tense silence developed, remaining for several minutes as they both stared at the screen.
John picked up the cushion from the corner beside him and let it fly at her. It skimmed the side of her head and landed on the floor.
“If you’re going to fall asleep again, you’d better go home.”
She turned to him, eyes fully open and no sign of sleep on her face. But the mood softened.
They both stared at the cushion on the floor for a moment. Neither of them was willing to pick it up. It looked like staying there all night. At least the tension was gone.
The rest of the evening was relaxed. After McReidy left, John strolled back to the lounge to retrieve the glasses and bottle. The cushion was still on the floor. He shook his head slowly as he recalled how it ended up there; a small smile crept over his face. He bent down, scooped it up and deposited it back where it belonged, then continued to clear away the glasses.
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Chapter eighteen
Bismarck gained ground on Shimodo and Antigua overnight. The crippled battlecruiser was underway, although she could only maintain half speed. An intercept course had Bismarck reaching her by mid morning.
The two ships had suffered minor external damage, all of which had been repaired. Scarred burns to their paintwork were the only remaining visual signs of their encounter.
Captain Melchior invited the captain of Bismarck over to Shimodo for an �
�informal chat”. John graciously accepted. Leaving McReidy in charge, he transported across.
An escort was waiting for him, moving to the console and speaking to the operator as the insignia of their guest did not belong to a captain. The transporter operator shrugged and the escort shook his head and mumbled under his breath.
Nothing was said to John as he was shown to the officer’s lounge. The escort beeped, and waited for acknowledgement before the door opened.
“Captain, Melchoir, sir, Captain –”
“Commander Madison,” John corrected, fully aware that the escort knew his rank.
“Commander Madison, sir,” the escort continued. “From Bismarck, sir.”
Melchoir’s eyes lifted from his glass and ran critically over John, a deep scowl forming. He remained seated.
“I invited your captain.”
John felt the insult as intended.
“We lost our captain in an unfortunate accident,” he explained. “Commander John Madison, temporarily in command,” he introduced himself.
He was acutely aware that he hadn’t been invited in and remained inside the doorway.
Melchior’s mouth twisted and he seemed satisfied with the answer.
“Come,” he waved John over. “Sit down. We have much to discuss.”
John didn’t think they had that much to discuss. It felt more like the beginnings of an interrogation. Swap the captain’s uniform for an admiral’s and it could have been Powers sitting there.
A waiter came and took their orders – another whiskey for the captain and a rum and Coke for John.
The captain’s mood remained sombre. Understandable, considering the pounding his ship had taken. Physically, he didn’t seem damaged, but John couldn’t even guess at the number of casualties they might have had.
To many of Melchior’s queries, John could not give a satisfactory answer. Transforming a transport ship to a battleship had been “A lot of hard work”. Detecting the Andromedan forces when neither Shimodo nor Antigua had been aware of them was “More luck than anything else”.
To “What the devil are you doing out here in the first place?” John could only answer, “I honestly have no idea”. He could not think of a reasonably sane answer.
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