Or was this one of the sops to the gentry the nobles gave out occasionally? The promise of one day achieving nobility was still so important in our hearts and minds, even when we tried to believe otherwise. We cherished the belief that someday we would be worthy to be recognized by those above us, that those above us would open the golden doors that separated their greatness from the common kind and we - We! - would be invited inside their beautiful garden. And once inside we would defend the exclusive rights and privileges of our new class as fiercely as any other noble.
After this momentary twitch of cynicism, a thought occurred to me. "Service to the Empire - do they mean the vaccine?"
"That is certainly a consideration," he said.
It would certainly be advantageous for the noble class to add a family whose blood held no taint of the plague to their ranks. All right, I couldn't quite stop my current cynical mood. Admirals Glass and North had frightened and angered me. I couldn't think anything nice about my betters at the moment.
"Please do not mention any of this to anyone," Father said. "But do keep it in mind should you have to face more questioning."
"Of course, sir."
"What shall we call ourselves, I wonder," he said, trying to lighten the serious mood. "Tern? Perhaps Gull?"
"There is already a Gull family, I believe."
"Sandpiper? I like Sandpiper."
"Why a bird name? What about Hedgehog?" I suggested. "I like hedgehogs."
"I recall the ones you used to feed in the back garden. Well, neither my generation nor yours will have to decide on a name change. Let us hope that your children choose something appropriate when the time comes. Are you calm enough to join the others without saying anything inappropriate now?"
I nodded. "I will be all smiles and diplomatic when we return to the family, and beyond," I promised. "But I do worry about Dr. Heron."
"I think your mother quite capable of taking that young man in hand." He stood and gave me his hand. "I fact, I believe she may have placed him high in the running to become a son-in-law." He raised an eyebrow in question.
"He has asked. I am thinking about it," was all I would say on the subject.
We went back to the reserved public room at the inn. We dined on sweets, biscuits, and tea, and shared a toast of honey wine. No one mentioned the irony of anything to do with honey. Even Star got to lick up a few drops of spilled wine. Everyone assured me that I would be an official surgeon within the next day. I was ordered to send word as soon as I knew anything.
After the toast, I told people that I needed to look in on my patient from this morning, and the party broke up. The Cliff carriage was drawn up to the inn door and there were a few minutes of settling people into the coach and handing down a case of my things that Belladem had chosen for me. Most of my wardrobe was headed for Loudon, even though I was not. I was left with my bag at my feet, my dog and Dr. Heron beside me as I waved my family on their way to the delights of the capital. I allowed Dr. Heron to carry my bag to the contractor's dormitory where I bespoke a room for myself. I finally was able to send Dr. Heron off to his own duties.
I changed from my blue daydress into the simple blue and brown plaid I'd made myself, covered my hair with a plain cotton coif, and went to the War Casualties Home to look in on the amputee.
Once I was done with my patient, I took myself off to a street beyond the docks I had heard crewmen discuss when talking about the joys of shore leave on board the Moonrunner.
Chapter Fifteen
I'd brought my knitting bag with me. I took out the stocking I was working on after I found a seat on a low wall in sight of the tavern entrance. I may be a terrible seamstress, but I can knit. Ask anyone on board the Moonrunner and they will hike up their trousers to show you my handiwork. I refer to the large number of pairs of stockings I produced during my time on the ship.
Knitting was a soothing occupation. I employed this method of calming down while waiting for a familiar figure to approach or leave the building across the way. Entering the tavern myself was scandalously out of the question so I had to employ patience rather than any direct method.
Star was an ally in looking for people we knew. She did disappear down an alley for a bit, no doubt practicing her ratting skills, but mostly she stayed near me. I almost lost hope as the afternoon drew toward sunset. Surely Captain Copper was allowing the crew a few days of carousing while port workers started on needed repairs and resupply. And surely, not everyone was carousing all the time. Perhaps I should have chosen to wait outside the doors of the temple of consolation, but this thought did not occur to me until I'd been waiting several hours. I could be naive about people's sexual needs no matter how sophisticated I thought myself in many ways.
But as I was beginning to berate myself, the tavern door opened and a familiar person came out into the street.
Star jumped up and ran to him immediately. I stood, and got his attention with a wave. Mr. Waterman reached down to pet the dog, picked her up, and brought her over to me.
"Dr. Cliff? Whatever are you doing here?" He looked up and down the street. "It's not proper."
"Yet, here I am." I sat back down and gestured for him to join me. Star moved from his lap to mine, sitting on my knitting.
"Excuse me, Dr. Cliff, but I am slightly drunk."
"As you have every reason and right to be in this time and place," I assured him. "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Waterman. You are just the person I was hoping to speak with."
Mr. Waterman was the senior helmsman on the Moonrunner. He was highly intelligent, very observant, and he could talk to octopi. Rather, he could converse with them, which is a rare talent. Anyone could speak to an octopus, even I could do that.
"I do not wish to interfere too much with your free time, Mr. Waterman," I told him. "But - may I ask? - how are things on board the ship?" I chose my words carefully. "Has the crew had a proper welcome home?"
He gave a snort of laughter, said something crude, apologized, and said, "You're talking about those committees scrambling all over the base, aren't you? I used to have some respect for clerics," he added. "I thought we came home war heroes."
"So did I," I said. "But apparently there are those who disagree."
"There's people who don't like anything we've done on board the 'Runner. They've been questioning the captain, all the officers, Dr. Swan. Even me."
My family? The universities? The navy?
"Were you questioned about your ability to communicate with--"
"The neighbors, that's what I like to call the octopi, Dr. Cliff. We share the world with neighbors in the water." He smiled. "You know what they're like."
I didn't. Not really.
"Yes," I said.
"They just want to know what we're like. There's no harm in that."
"I agree."
"No one's ever told me it's wrong before. It's not wrong. Captain Copper says so. He always stops for a chat when the octopus bell sounds. "
"He does." I tried not to smile fondly.
"He lets everybody take a turn in the water with the neighbors. That way they get to know more about the land world. Different perspectives, he calls it."
I had never been more terrified in my life than the day I went in the water with - the neighbors. "Captain Copper's octopi policy is certainly correct."
"That's what I told that - cleric - Dr. Cliff. It's not against any law to talk to the neighbors, is it?"
I shook my head.
"I didn't think so. No orders against it, either. I hope there won't be. I love talking to 'em."
"I am glad that you do," I told him.
I really wanted to pry, to find out if Mr. Waterman knew what Captain Copper and his officers had been questioned about, if he knew. But one can only probe so much before risking exciting gossip. At least I had learned a little, not that I had any idea what I should or could do with it.
I thought of one thing I could do.
"May I offer you a library subs
cription, Mr. Waterman? Seyemouth has a fine library, and I can arrange for the subscription length to coincide with your visits to the port."
If he was even a little drunk, the alcohol cleared instantly from his system. He stood, smiling broadly, and bowed to me. I had never seen anyone's eyes shine so happily. "Books, Dr. Cliff? You can arrange for the library to lend the likes of me books? Why?"
"To advance the cause of human and octopi relations, Mr. Waterman. The more you know, the more you can tell the neighbors."
He nodded eagerly. "Yes, Dr. Cliff, I can certainly do that. And I will." He took a step closer, said quietly, "And I'll be sure not to let any fool cleric know anything about this, either."
"I appreciate that," I replied, equally quietly. It felt as if we were conspiring - when we were doing nothing at all wrong. I hated having the feeling of standing on shifting sand enter my world. "Thank you for talking to me, Mr. Waterman."
I continued to sit on the wall after the helmsman took his leave. It had been a long, fraught, day, and I was suddenly aware of how very tired I was.
At least the water was warm. I floated, weightless on the water, frightened out of my mind. I can swim, and I was tethered to the ship, but I was in no way mentally prepared for this. Since my face was as wet as the rest of me, no one could tell I was crying. I was one of three of the crew floating in the incredibly blue, glassy calm water. To my left, Mr. Waterman was singing. He wanted to be doing this.
"Close your eyes," he had advised before we were lowered over the side. "Or look up at the sky. Count stars even if you can't see them. Good luck to you."
I prayed to the All, and to every aspect of the All I could remember. I looked up at the cloudless sky through blurred vision. Green Moon's huge disk could not be completely hidden by daylight, and it showed faintly above.
I wanted to get this over with. I didn't want to be doing it at all. I--
I couldn't scream when the tentacles closed around me, because one of them came over my mouth.
The octopus was careful to hold my head up out of the water. It supported me, cuddled me. Its body was a warm as any human’s, soft, malleable, but substantial.
I have no idea how long my panic lasted, but the octopus was patient. She kept me safe as long as I mindlessly struggled.
I do not know why my impression was that the octopus was a female - how can one tell the difference of the genders in such alien creatures?. But she was a she to me.
Eventually I lay limp and silent in her embrace and let her do what she wished with me.
I counted stars that weren't out. The sky was under water and the stars were tentacled. Floating baby stars. I reached for the baby stars.
I laughed softly at the memory, as well as shivered. I have never quite recovered from the fear of that wet, alien embrace. I dreamed of stars as octopi, or vice versa, for a long time afterwards. I still did sometimes, but whether I'd had some sort of communication with the octopus I cannot say. If she learned something from me by somehow being able to touch my thoughts I am glad to have been of service. But I never, ever want to do that again.
My laughter was interrupted by a yawn. It was nearly dark, the spring air cooling as night approached, and it was time for me to get back to my own section of the town. Star was not in my lap, and my knitting had tumbled to the ground. I realized that I had actually been napping rather than musing.
"Awake are we?" that blasted rich northern voice spoke close to my ear.
My head whipped round. And there he was, his recently trimmed hair covered with a battered tricorn hat. His long blue coat was worn as well, with not a bit of braid or rank markings showing. His long legs were stretched out before him.
Star was sitting on his lap.
"Traitor," I said to the dog.
"What?" Lord North asked. "Oh, you mean your pet." He put her down on the ground. "Star and I are old friends."
I couldn't believe that. I did gather my wits and rose to face him.
"Don't," he said when I began to curtsy. "Not here. Not that you have any business being here," he added.
I knew that - but it was infuriating to hear it from someone who had no business being in this neighborhood, either. "I am not an officer, sir," I said. "My presence hardly interferes with the private lives of the Navy's enlisted personnel."
He stood and bent to pick up my dropped knitting. He handed the soiled wool to me. "You don't know anything about the Navy," he told me. "Please give in to your urge to argue with me, Dr. Cliff." He grinned that compulsively infectious grin I'd experienced on the Moonrunner.
I remained silent, and managed not to smile, but just barely to both. Oh, he was so infuriating!
"No?" He shrugged. "Oh, well. Run along. I'm off to a party." He turned to walk away, but gave me a look over his shoulder as he went. "Admiral Glass has just retired. Many toasts are about to be drunk in his honor. Expect to treat many a hangover tomorrow."
North swaggered off. I couldn't help but watch him go. I was rooted to the spot with embarrassment, and worry. All I'd wanted was a private talk with a friend. No one should have known or noticed. I had thought I was being careful to keep my reputation intact, to avoid any comments or gossip. But who had spotted me? The commander of the entire Imperial Navy. North could do anything with my reputation he chose.
How I hated that man as I made my way back to my dormitory room.
Chapter Sixteen
I moved in a tense cloud of worry the next few days. I kept my head down, being quiet and dutifully trying not to make a single misstep. The whole time I felt an itching tenseness between my shoulder blades, as though there was a target there waiting to be pierced. But after a bit, when no rumors or even odd looks were turned my way, I began to calm down. You cannot always be worried about the battles that are coming, I'd learned this lesson well enough, and it finally sank in about my personal life. Besides, who was I to think that Admiral Lord North had any interest in ruining me personally?
I did have to hand out some hangover remedies the next morning. And there was a meeting called of all the staff of the various healing buildings to formally announce Admiral Glass's retirement. A hat was passed to collect for a retirement present for the beloved old man. No immediate announcement was made of his replacement. After a while it occurred to me that the appearance Admiral Glass put in at my examination was him taking a last chance at making a public statement about his disapproval of modern naval policy.
It was not about me. I was very glad that it was not about me. This helped to somewhat ease my fear that I would not be awarded the surgeon's certificate. The wait was still difficult.
It did not help that no news came of my brother Alix's overdue ship. I checked the port docking lists every day with growing concern.
It helped that I had Dr. Heron's company during the days of waiting. Also, I ran into my friend, the artist, Erbesqe Flood, in the dormitory dining room the morning after I moved in.
"Good goddess of paint brushes," she said when I took a seat across the table from her. "When you disappeared into the arms of your clan, I never thought I'd see you again!"
"I am sorry it seemed that way. Perhaps we are a bit too insular," I replied. "Perhaps that is why we marry so many cousins. How are you doing, my dear? How does the Admiralty like the artwork you brought back?"
"Well enough that I've been commissioned to paint several admirals. And there might be a private commission or two to paint some admirals' wives."
No mention of committees and questions came up in our conversation that morning, or in the time we spent together over the next days. It appeared her artwork offended no one. I did not believe my friend knew anything about the tensions on base, and was glad of it. I even managed to hush Dr. Heron from bringing up the subject when he joined us one evening for an astronomy lecture at the Seyemouth Civic Hall.
Bell had only left me my old silver-gray evening dress for outings. Clean and mended, but still the same dress I'd had with me for the last
two years. When I complained, Erbesqe suggested I wear it proudly, like a uniform. And so I did.
I worked my shifts, made arrangements for leaving once I had my test results and returning in the autumn for my first annual tour of duty. The novel in its red journal was returned to me. I was interviewed about the possibility of ship duty and stated officially that I wanted the full time granted to consider this very hard decision. I attended Dr. Heron's surgical examination and was both pleased and annoyed that the questions posed to him related only to medical matters. I think he was a bit disappointed as well, as it gave him no chance to be the least bit rude and pugnacious with his examiners. I certainly had no doubts that he would be awarded his surgical certificate. I was proud of him. And I still considered marrying him, but wasn't ready to give him an answer.
And my brother's ship still did not return.
After five days that dragged like a month becalmed I found an envelope waiting for me at the dormitory's front desk when I returned from my shift. I did not break the blue wax seal until I reached my room. I sat down hard and stared at nothing for I have no idea how long.
Inside the envelope was my surgeon's certificate.
I took Erbesqe and Dr. Heron out to dinner that night, and did not quite drink enough to need a headache remedy the next day. Which is a good thing, because the next day me, my dog, and my things took the last daily public coach out of Seyemouth along the road to Loudon.
Chapter Seventeen
I looked at the fold of paper in my hand, reading the address in my mother's handwriting one more time. I looked up and at the grounds to my right once more. The horse hitched to the horsecab snorted and pawed the cobbled street. The driver waited patiently for me to make a decision, but the horse wanted to be gone.
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