Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3

by J. A. Sutherland

Alexis opened her mouth to speak, closed it then bit her lip. “I find myself, again, perplexed, sir.”

  Caruthers laughed. “Aboard ship, Mister Carew, it is very important for all to know who is in command. This person is referred to as ‘the captain’, regardless of his formal rank. It would not do for the men to have to remember if they should refer to ‘the lieutenant’, ‘the commander’, or ‘the captain’, depending on the rate of the ship they served on. And so, the commander of a ship is always ‘the captain’. Do you see?”

  “I do,” Alexis said, nodding tentatively. “I do see that it is quite important for there to be one commander of the ship and clear to all who is commanding, in voice and action, sir — but, if a title is to be used to identify the commander of a ship and the title given by virtue of his commanding, why, then, is that title captain and not commander?”

  “Tradition.”

  Alexis saw the lieutenant’s mouth twitch and gave him a mock glare. “I am convinced, sir, despite your protestations and assurances, that you do tease me with this.”

  Caruthers cleared his throat. “Perhaps a bit, Mister Carew,” he admitted, smiling. “But it is the truth, all the same. Clarity and Tradition, you will find, explain a great many things in the Navy. And, as it is tradition to name the commander of a ship ‘captain’, so that term is used for clarity.” He stopped walking as they had reached the chandlery itself. “And here we are. I’ve a few things to see to, myself, Mister Carew,” he told her. “Just ask the chandler to fit you out with a midshipman’s kit to start, and I’ll be along in a moment to advise you of any other items.”

  “Yes, sir,” she responded.

  “‘Yes’ answers a question, Mister Carew, ‘aye’ or ‘aye aye’ acknowledges an order.” He grinned. “For clarity.”

  She returned his grin, laughing. “Aye sir.”

  “And Mister Carew?” Caruthers said quietly and more seriously as she opened the door.

  “Sir?”

  “You may not yet have the uniform, Mister Carew, but you are now a midshipman in Her Majesty’s Navy. In your person, you represent the honor of the Queen, Her ship Merlin, and our Captain Grantham. Please do remember that.”

  “Aye sir.”

  “Be about it, then.”

  “Miss Alexis!” the chandler, Doakes, exclaimed as she entered the shop. “It’s been ages girl. Is your grandfather with you?”

  Alexis forced her teeth to unclench at that, she’d always hated the chandler’s easy familiarity. Something about the man had always grated on her nerves, perhaps because of her grandfather’s low opinion of him and how he cheated both the holders and spacers in his role as factor for the Navy and so many shipping companies.

  “No, Mister Doakes,” she’d answered. “I’m here on my own.” She paused. “A bit of unusual business, I’m afraid.”

  “And what would that be, Miss Alexis?”

  “I find myself in need of a midshipman’s kit, Mister Doakes. Would you be so kind as to provide one?”

  The chandler paused, open-mouthed. “A midshipman’s kit, miss? Those I can’t be selling except to a midshipman.”

  Alexis grinned wryly. “And so I find myself. I believe if you’ll check Merlin’s records, you’ll see that I’ve signed on to her.”

  Doakes laughed heartily. “And the other one has bells on, Miss Alexis! You a midshipman.” He laughed again. “Off with you now, girl. Whatever game you and your friends are playing at, you’ll have to play it elsewhere. I’ve work to do with a Navy ship in-system.”

  Alexis was silent for a moment. “I understand, Mister Doakes,” she said quietly. “But I have signed aboard Merlin and I’ve been told to get a midshipman’s kit. If you’d only check the records …”

  “There’re no girls in the Navy, you silly bint!” Doakes said, laughing harder now. “Now quit wasting my time before I put you over my knee, girl!”

  Alexis’ throat tightened at this, how could she be an officer in the Navy if she couldn’t even command this weaselly little man? Maybe her success with her grandfather’s hands had been more about their respect for him and not at all for her. Then she remembered what Caruthers had said to her at the doorway. She knew little of the Queen, had never seen the ship Merlin, but if she truly did represent the honor of Captain Grantham, a man who’d been quite kind to her with no real reason to be …

  She squared her shoulders, eyes suddenly narrowed and flashing. “I believe that’s ‘Mister Carew’, now I’ve signed the Articles, Doakes.” Deliberately leaving off his honorific. “You may not believe I’m a midshipman, you may not like it, sir, but you will accept it!” She stepped closer and placed her palms flat on the counter. “And you will provide me a midshipman’s kit this very minute!” Doakes opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off quickly, remembering a phrase she’d heard the bosun use to a hand who’d been lagging behind. “Lively now, Doakes!” she barked. “Or I’ll know the reason why!”

  The chandler shut his mouth quickly and bent to his tablet. “Aye sir,” he murmured. He slid off his stool and nodded to her. “I’ll just be a moment in the back putting things together.”

  Alexis watched him go, satisfied that he was moving, but a bit uncertain as to whether he’d fulfill her needs. She took a deep breath and realized that her hands were shaking — in general she’d not had confrontations such as this with her grandfather’s hands, and she thought, suddenly, that there might be some truth to her concern that much of their obedience and respect had been for him, and not entirely for her. Well then, when I do gain the spacers’ respect, I’ll know it’s mine alone.

  She heard the door to the chandlery open and Lieutenant Caruthers entered.

  “Well said, Mister Carew,” he told her quietly, coming to stand beside her and staring after the retreating chandler. “Well said, indeed.”

  “You heard me, sir?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I …”

  Caruthers chuckled. “I suspect they heard you aboard ship, Mister Carew. I’d not have expected you to have lungs so great as that.”

  “I suppose not, sir,” Alexis agreed, glancing down at her slight form. Caruthers looked over at her, his grin faltering as he saw the direction of her gaze.

  “I meant …” he began. “That is to say …” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, squared his shoulders, and moved his gaze to the doorway Doakes had fled through as though he might like to follow the chandler. “I meant no offense, I assure you.”

  Alexis laughed. “I was raised quite roughly, lieutenant,” she assured him. “I’d not take offense at an innocent comment. Nor a good-naturedly wicked one, for that matter.”

  “Thank you, Mister Carew. I imagine there’ll be a bit of adjustment needed for all of us in this, and no few awkward moments.”

  Alexis considered his words. “And the form of address will help with that, yes?”

  “Yes, I imagine so. Keep the men reminded that you’re an officer.”

  “I believe I understand, sir.”

  Caruthers grinned widely. “If you begin to understand the Navy on your first day, Mister Carew, then you’re well ahead of most midshipmen. And some lieutenants, I assure you. Now,” he continued, “I’ve taken the liberty of drawing up a list of things you might find useful, in addition to the standard midshipman’s kit. You having no naval history, so to speak.” He handed over his tablet for her to inspect.

  She saw the first item on the list and said, “I’m not much of a wine drinker, sir. I’ve little head for it.”

  “You’ll be wanting something that isn’t mixed with the ship’s water. Several months in space, you see. No matter how good the ship’s systems, most spacers claim they can tell when the water supply’s been through the recyclers a time too many. Even the coffee and tea get thrown off a bit by it. So select something you care to drink, but I’d suggest you keep a case of wine for sharing with the other midshipmen — for toasting and such. And there are some other items on that list which you may not care for, but I know Rol
and and Easely do. A bit of judicious bribery’s never gone amiss in a midshipman’s berth.”

  “I see, sir. Thank you.” She handed the tablet back to Caruthers. “I believe I should be guided by you in this, sir. Though it does seem quite a lot.”

  “You’ll be surprised at what you’ll wish you had aboard ship — and how quickly it will run out. Spend a week on ship’s rations and you’ll better understand the need for occasional luxuries. Of course, nearer the Core Worlds, we’d have access to more options, out here it’s all as nature made it, so to speak.”

  At that moment, Doakes returned from the back room with a large, canvas duffel bag. “I’ve everything here, but you’ll be needing an officer to sign for it, and I’ll make no guarantees to the fit, small as you are.” He’d stopped as he saw Caruthers. “Ah, lieutenant,” he’d greeted him with a wink. “Is this your ‘midshipman’ then?”

  Caruthers eyed the man coldly. “I believe she’d be the Queen’s midshipman, Mister Doakes. Is that the kit you’ve prepared for her?” He stepped up to the shop’s counter and ran a hand over the surface. “Lay it out here, if you please, sir. I’ll just have a look before it’s sent aboard.”

  Doakes paled visibly. “Well, sir,” he’d stammered. “Might not be all complete. Just getting started at putting it together, you see.”

  “I do see, Mister Doakes. Quite clearly.”

  Doakes begun unpacking the bag onto the counter and Alexis got her first glimpse of the possessions she’d be starting her new life with. “I’ve obviously none of the … well, the articles of a feminine nature, you understand lieutenant? No call for them out here, least for the Navy lads. Some on the merchant crews, of course, but they mostly stick to the civilian shops.”

  “I can’t fault you for that, Mister Doakes.” Caruthers deftly sorted the contents of the bag. He quickly counted and set to the side piles of undershorts, undershirts, stockings and a stack of dark blue jumpsuits. “I believe there are supposed to be six of each of these, not four, Mister Doakes.”

  “Must’ve miscounted,” Doakes murmured quietly.

  “And the sizes are rather off, I think, sir.” He’d held up a pair of undershorts that would voluminous even on the lieutenant himself. “Have you, perhaps, mistaken our Mister Carew for a bosun overly fond of the mess table?”

  “Might be there’s some’at smaller in the back,” the chandler muttered, then defiantly, “But naught that’ll fit her right off! I’ve nothing that small and no cause to! The young ones join ship closer in, not out here!”

  “I understand, Mister Doakes. We’ve skills enough aboard to make do, given a decent start.” He eyed the rest of the items skeptically. “Would you, perhaps, prefer to make another go of it, all entire, sir?”

  Doakes nodded gratefully and scooped everything off the counter.

  “Excellent.” He slid his tablet with the list of other supplies onto the counter. “And before you do so, would you kindly see these other items packaged up and sent ahead to Merlin under Mister Carew’s name? You have the orders from Captain Grantham and myself, as well, I believe?”

  “I do sir, all packed up and being loaded by your crew this minute,” Doakes assured him as he reviewed the tablet.

  “Very good.” Caruthers smiled. “Then as soon as you’ve completed Mister Carew’s kit, we will see the reckoning and let you be about your day. Oh, and would you be so kind as to bring one of Merlin’s men along when you return?”

  “Just be a minute,” Doakes muttered, throwing Alexis a dark look before hurrying away.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Pursers and chandlers, Mister Carew. One daren’t trust them.”

  Some time later, Doakes returned with a much heavier looking bag and one of the spacers from Merlin. “Will you be wanting to inspect the kit again, lieutenant?” he asked.

  “That won’t be necessary, I think. I’m sure our bosun will be happy to come down again and retrieve anything that might have been missed … in any of our orders, you understand.”

  Doakes swallowed heavily. “Won’t be needing that, I’m sure, lieutenant. I’ll … ah, I’ll be checking what’s your men are loading again myself, just after your midshipman’s reckoning here.” He slid his own tablet onto the counter.

  Alexis stared in shock for a moment, as the amount was quite more than she could believe.

  Midshipman’s kit, it read: Undershorts (6 at 8 pence); undershirts (6 at 10 pence); stockings (6 at 6 pence); ship’s jumpsuit (6 at 1 shilling, 2 pence); ship’s boots (3 shillings); dress tunic, midshipman insignia attached (2 pounds, 5 shillings); dress trousers (1 pound, 4 shillings); beret, dress and everyday midshipman insignia attached (10 shillings); dress boots (2 pounds); stockings, silk (2 at 17 shillings, 4 pence); items of a personal nature (4 shillings); vacuum suit (13 pounds, 10 shillings); ship’s tablet (15 pounds, 8 shillings).

  The rest of the items were those added by Lieutenant Caruthers: claret (12 bottles at 5 shillings); mixed tea, liter bottles (12 at 4 pence); cheese, kilogram (4 at 4 pence); eggs, dozen (6 at 3 pence); butter, kilogram (4 at 8 pence); mutton, frozen and packed for shipboard, kilogram (3 at 10 pence); assorted fruits and vegetables, frozen, packed for shipboard, kilogram (8 at 10 pence); chickens, whole, frozen, packed for shipboard (8 at 1 shilling); beef roast, frozen, packed for shipboard (3 at 1 shilling, 6 pence); chocolate, kilogram (2 at 5 shillings); coffee, kilogram (1 at 4 shillings, 9 pence); tea, kilogram (2 at 7 shillings, 6 pence).

  Even with her grandfather having supplied several hams and kilograms of bacon and sausage, the total stood out shockingly to her, 43 pounds, 18 shillings, 7 pence.

  Alexis raised her hand to her mouth. “Lieutenant, this is too much! It’s more than my pay for a year, sir!”

  “And now you can see why new midshipmen typically come from wealthy families.” He grinned. “Or spend some time indebted to Her Majesty, if they do not.” He slid the tablet from in front of her and reviewed it quickly. “Submit that to the ship, Mister Doakes. Captain Grantham’s account.” Alexis started to protest again, but he cut her off. “This is decided, Mister Carew. Captain Grantham instructed me to see you well situated to start, and I intend to do so. There will be no argument on this point.”

  “Aye sir,” she agreed, grudgingly. “But perhaps, I might forgo those extras and make do with ship’s rations for a month or two? Surely they can’t be as awful as all that?” The majority of the expense was the midshipman’s kit, of course, but even the six pounds for those extras seemed an extravagance. The spacer who’d come in with Doakes barked laughter and Alexis wondered what he might be thinking about the expense. It would take him almost four years to earn forty-three pounds and even six pounds was half a year’s wages for a spacer.

  “Watch yourself, Acker,” Caruthers chided with a smile. “Shan’t be disparaging our noble purser’s doings, now.”

  “Oh no, sir. Never would, me.”

  “I assure you once again, Mister Carew, that the captain is acquainted with the expense, considerable though it may be, and believes it a bargain. So I wish to hear no more of it, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good, now let’s get you into uniform, so that you look a proper midshipman, shall we?”

  It took a moment or two of confusion on everyone’s part to determine exactly where Alexis would change into her new uniform, with Doakes muttering, “Proper officers just strip down right there.” And Acker failing to hide his amusement at Lieutenant Caruthers’ discomfiture. Finally it was decided that Alexis would use the chandler’s small office, over Doakes’ objection, but overruled by Caruthers. She took the bag of clothing inside and closed the door, hearing Caruthers call out, “Everyday uniform is what you’ve six of and the boots meant for working, as well as the beret.”

  As soon as the door was firmly closed, she dug into the bag and began changing, finding just how poorly sized everything was for her small frame. The undershirt was baggy, with sleeves that, ridiculously, r
eached past her elbows and the undershorts were just as bad, sliding off her hips and dropping to the floor as soon as she stopped holding them up — just as well that the jumpsuit ballooned and flapped around her, as, at least, it hid the lumps of bunched fabric from the underthings. The sleeves and legs of the jumpsuit, though, had no such advantage, having to be rolled up to an absurd degree to free Alexis’ hands and feet from the fabric. After trying on the boots, she’d given up on them completely, as her feet would come completely out with every step and put her own back on. There was no mirror in Doakes’ office, but she was certain she looked as ridiculous as she felt. At least the beret fits a bit, she told herself. It was still too large for her head, but its inner band was adjustable enough that it didn’t slide down to cover her face. Reluctantly, she cracked open the door to Doakes’ office and peered through at the waiting men.

  “It is … very bad, Lieutenant Caruthers,” she warned.

  “None of that, Mister Carew. We know it won’t be perfect, but it can’t be all that …” His voice trailed off as Alexis opened the door and stepped out, face turning red as Doakes burst out in laughter, while Acker covered his mouth with a hand to hide his grin. Caruthers merely rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Doakes,” he asked desperately, “are you certain you’ve nothing smaller?”

  Doakes wiped his eyes, laughing. “No cause to, sir,” he explained. “She’s the size o’ a twelve-year old boy … Fringe Fleet gets ‘em when they’re sixteen, fifteen, maybe, and filled out some. She ain’t even filled out fer a girl!”

  “Mister Doakes!” Caruthers snapped, as Alexis blushed furiously and Acker turned his back, suddenly quite interested in the chandlery’s walls.

  “Simple truth, sir, and you can see it yourself. Now, I’ve a seamstress who works to tailor the dress uniforms proper and she can take these in, but it’ll be a day or more.”

  “That’s no good. No good at all. Merlin’s to transition and continue her patrol in the morning.”

  Acker turned back to the group and ran an appraising eye over Alexis. Still grinning, but not unkindly, he stepped forward. “It’s not so bad, sir,” he said to her. “Well, I mean, it’s bad but not as can’t be fixed.” He gestured at the uniform’s sleeves and legs, which were tightly rolled up. “I’m a dab hand with a needle, if I do say so myself. Do it fer me messmates all the time.” Alexis looked at him hopefully. “Take those legs and sleeves up easy, dart in the sides.” He nodded emphatically. “No trouble at all.”