“You could get yourself killed out here,” Penny said. She crossed her arms under her breasts, scowling at him. “This isn't a refugee camp, Percy, and I’m not a teenager any longer.”
“Thanks be to God,” Percy said. “You were hellish as a teenager.”
Penny smirked. “I could tell Canella all sorts of stories about your teenage years ...”
Percy’s expression darkened. “She broke up with me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Penny said, sincerely. She’d only met Canella once, but she’d liked the girl. “Did the deployments get to her?”
“Yeah,” Percy said. “I think she must have had second thoughts from the moment I said goodbye to her. Being on a starship is a far cry from serving on the other side of the world.”
Penny nodded in agreement. It only took seven hours to travel from one side of the world to the other - or it had, before the war. The hypersonic jets that had once bound Earth together had largely been grounded, all services cancelled as the human race struggled to survive and rebuild. Percy could have returned to Edinburgh every couple of months when he went on leave, if he wished; it was a great deal harder to travel between Earth and Vesy. Canella hadn't seen him for over a year.
“Well, I’m sure you will find someone else,” she said, briskly. “Are there any young women on the ship you might like?”
“If I have time,” Percy said. “Do you know how hard it was to get a chance to come see you?”
Penny gave him a sharp look. “No,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“Training,” Percy said. He held up one hand. “And it’s classified, so please don’t ask about it.”
“I won’t,” Penny said. She had a feeling that she was right, that Percy was going to land on Clarke, but she kept that thought to herself. “It’s good to see you again, even if it is ... here.”
“I suppose,” Percy said. “I'd be happier if you were safer, Pen-Pen.”
Penny felt her cheeks heat. “I’m not a child any longer, Percy,” she said. “And is there anywhere safe these days?”
It wasn't a pleasant thought. They’d grown up in a safe environment; their father hadn't been wealthy, but he’d earned enough to give the family a security blanket and ensure that his children received a good education. And then their father had gone off to war, their mother had vanished during the bombardment and they’d had to flee the onrushing waters in hopes of finding a safe place to rest. She'd gone back to their home town later, after the area had been declared safe, only to discover that their home had been looted. Everything they’d owned had been either stolen or destroyed by the waves.
They’d been lucky, she knew. Admiral Fitzwilliam had taken them in, after the war; they’d had a measure of safety that few others had enjoyed. And yet, there had been no guarantees of anything. They’d worked in the Reclamation Corps before Percy had gone into the Royal Marines and she’d found work as a reporter, but it could easily have been worse. She’d seen the bodies recovered from the waters and known she could have died there too.
“I suppose there isn't,” Percy said. “But a war zone is even less safe than anywhere else.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I’m not a child any longer,” she said. “I knew the job was dangerous when I signed up for it.”
She cleared her throat. “So ... do you have your eye on anyone?”
“Not yet,” Percy said. “Who’s the milksop in your cabin?”
“A fellow reporter,” Penny said. “He gets the sofa, I get the bed.”
“What a fair division of labour,” Percy murmured. “So ... not a boyfriend then?”
“No,” Penny said. “I’m still writing to Hamish, but ...”
“A Para,” Percy said, with mock horror. “You’re dating a Para. I’ll never be able to hold my head up in public again.”
Penny stuck out her tongue. “Does it really matter who I date?”
“I just don’t want you hurt,” Percy said. He sighed. “Our parents had problems because dad was away, fighting the war.”
“I know,” Penny said. She had no idea if Percy knew - she was damned if she was going to tell him, if he didn’t - but she was sure their mother had been having an affair. And their father too, perhaps. “I’m only writing to him, Percy. There’s no guarantee of anything.”
“I suppose not,” Percy said. “3 Para was earmarked for deployment, the last I heard, but they’re currently reforming after Vesy. They may wind up being held back while 2 Para joined the task force.”
“His last message wasn't too clear,” Penny said. “I had to tell him that I’d been accepted as an embed and that I wouldn't be able to email him for a while.”
“I have no idea what he’ll make of that,” Percy said. “Some of the lads I served with were married. They liked the thought of coming home to a wife and kids.”
“I suppose it would have its charms,” Penny said. “Does it always work out?”
“We’re encouraged not to marry until we’ve completed our first deployments,” Percy said, softly. “It can play merry hell with marriages.”
Penny gave him a sharp look. “How would you know about that, Percy?”
“It’s one of the things we’re told in training,” Percy said. “Being a marine means that your life no longer belongs to you. Your service to the company comes first.”
He glanced at his watch. “There isn't much time left,” he admitted. “I’ll try to see you again before the shit hits the fan.”
“It can't be worse than Vesy,” Penny said. She'd come far too close to death on the alien homeworld. She still had nightmares, sometimes, about alien mobs closing in on her. “Can it?”
“I hope not,” Percy said. He shrugged. “How did the Indians treat you?”
“They were decent enough,” Penny said. “Once they had us, they tended to our wounds - those of us who were wounded - and then shipped us back to Earth. I was half-hoping they’d give me a chance to embed with their forces, but they evidently thought better of it.”
“They’d have turned you into a propaganda mouthpiece,” Percy said. “You wouldn't have been able to hold your head up in public again.”
“I imagine it would have been embarrassing,” Penny agreed, dryly. “The Admiral would not have been pleased.”
She sighed. “Did you have a chance to talk to him?”
“Not properly,” Percy said. “I only saw him at a couple of debriefings, where he listened without speaking. There was no chance for a private chat.”
Penny winced. The Admiral was, perhaps, the only person they knew who could tell them how their father had died, but he’d refused to be drawn on the subject. She’d researched it as best as she could, yet no matter what she did she kept running into stone walls. There was a great deal of information in the public domain about the final flight of Ark Royal, but it only made it clearer just how much had been hidden. How and why had their father died?
If he’d died in the final battle, he would have been memorialised as such, she thought. There had to be some mystery surrounding his death. An accident - or a suicide - wouldn’t have been covered up. Did he die on the Old Lady herself?
“I haven’t seen him for years,” she said. “I actually turned down an invitation to the Christmas Ball because I was busy.”
“Go interview him,” Percy suggested. “You’re a reporter, aren't you? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to give you a proper interview.”
“I doubt it,” Penny said. Apart from the PR officers, who could talk for hours on end about nothing at all, she had yet to meet a naval officer who was glad to see a reporter. Percy probably didn't count. “What would you say if I tried to interview you?”
Percy smirked. “Just remember to describe me as a handsome, strong, clever, sophisticated, cunning, smart, snarky, alpha male ...”
“Oh, piss off and eat a dictionary,” Penny said. She struck a writing pose. “Corporal Percy is a smug conceited git ...”
“
Lieutenant,” Percy said. “I’m a Lieutenant now.”
“I notice you didn't deny the rest of it,” Penny said. She smirked at his expression, then sobered. “I don’t think the Admiral would be too pleased to get an interview request from me - I’d either have to be tough, which would irritate him, or soft-pedal. And that would be held against me later.”
Percy frowned. “It would?”
“He’s our guardian,” Penny reminded him, sarcastically. “All right, we’re both adults now, but we haven’t broken the connection. People will expect me not to be too hard on him.”
“So they’ll assume the worst,” Percy mused. “That could be a problem.”
“Yeah,” Penny agreed. “It could.”
She shook her head. “I think we should probably ask him after the war,” she added. “But if it’s been classified, Percy, it may have been classified for a reason.”
“I know,” Percy said. “But I still want to know.”
He glanced at his watch again. “It’s time to go back to training,” he said. He swept her into a brief hug. “I love you, little sister.”
“I’m not that little,” Penny said, hugging him back. “Good luck with your training.”
Percy’s face darkened. “I’ll need it.”
Penny watched him go before turning to look back out at the stars. Their father’s body was lost somewhere in the darkness, she knew; it had certainly never been recovered and shipped home to Earth. That was true of most of the crewmen who’d died on Ark Royal, but she’d tracked down as many death reports as she could and they’d all been listed as going down with the ancient carrier. Hell, most of the starfighter pilots had died there too. There was simply no reason to assume their father hadn’t died there, save for the simple fact that he hadn't been included on a list of the dead ...
And for the fact that Rose Labara and Prince Henry were listed as commanders of the starfighter squadrons, she thought. That should have been dad’s job ... which suggests, very strongly, that dad died before the final battle.
She shook her head in irritation and turned to walk out of the hatch. A pair of crewmen nodded politely to her as she left, manhandling another cart crammed with supplies down the corridor towards the tactical compartment. Penny briefly considered trying to ask them a few questions, but knew it would probably get her in trouble. Instead, she kept walking until she was standing at the hatch leading into the mess. A handful of crewmen were sitting at tables, hastily eating as much as they could before going on duty or returning to their quarters to sleep.
“Hey,” the cook called. “You come to eat something nice?”
Penny smiled. The cook had been happy to chat with her during the first deployment, joking that he’d undertaken the hardest training course in the Royal Navy. He hadn't passed, of course; apparently, no one passed the catering course. Penny had to admit the food wasn't five-star, but it was filling and there was plenty of it. No wonder the cook was overweight ...
But then, she thought as she walked over to join him, who’d trust a skinny cook?
“I could do with it,” she agreed. “What do you have?”
The cook smiled. “Suspicious sausages, questionable potatoes, portable human-methane converters ... or fruit and vegetables, if you feel like being picky.”
Penny had to smile. “Do we have any fresh fruit?”
“Yeah, but not for long,” the cook said. “Better get your fair share before it’s all gone.”
“Give me some sausages, chips and beans,” Penny said. She’d have to work it off later, but thankfully they had free access to the exercise compartment. “Do you have a few moments to chat?”
“Only off the record,” the cook boomed. He picked up a pair of sausages and dropped them onto a plate, then added the chips and a healthy serving of beans. “Unless you want to gripe about the food. There’s no way we can serve fresh food throughout the voyage.”
Penny nodded as she took her plate. “I have travelled in space before,” she said. She didn't like to think about where the reprocessed food came from - no one did - but it was just something that had to be endured. “As long as the supply of hot sauce holds out, we should be fine.”
“Ah, we lost a bottle last night,” the cook said. “One of those new guys from Marine Country came in, pinched a bottle and downed it like cheap beer, right in front of us. His poor girlfriend!”
“He actually managed to drink a whole bottle?” Penny asked. She’d tasted navy-issue hot sauce in the past, during her first cruise. It probably violated international laws against chemical weapons just by existing. She had certainly not been able to tolerate more than a drop or two at a time. “Why?”
“Ah, some stupid contest between them and the marines, I imagine,” the cook said. “We had a bunch of Paras on Hamilton and they spent half their time trying to one-up the marines.”
Penny considered it as she tucked into her food. A new group of soldiers? They couldn't be marines ... which meant what? If they were Paras, Percy would probably have mentioned them when she’d talked about Hamish. And that meant they had to be Special Forces.
“I’m sure you have at least a hundred more bottles,” she said, finally. “Or did they take them back to their lair to drink too?”
“I hope not,” the cook said. “It’s bad enough catching crewmen who are trying to raid the galley.”
He grinned. “But enough about them,” he said. “How are you feeling about going to war?”
“I was on Vesy,” Penny said, automatically.
“This will be different,” the cook said. He made a show of stirring the beans. “The Indians will be shooting at us, if they catch wind of our presence. Perhaps serving beans was a bad idea.”
“I’m torn between excitement and fear,” Penny admitted. It wasn’t something she’d want to admit to Percy. He’d just point out that she could have stayed on Earth. “Is it always that way?”
“I was an assistant cook during the first war,” the cook said. He slapped his belly meaningfully. “I didn’t actually fight; I just kept the fighters fed and watered. And I learned there was no point in stressing out, even in the middle of a war zone. If a missile has our name on it, we’re dead; if it doesn't, we’ll live to see another day. That’s all that’s important.”
“Very profound,” Penny said.
“We can't all be starship commanders or starfighter jocks,” the cook said. “Some of us merely keep the rest of the crew alive. We just do our duty and leave the rest in God’s hands.”
“True,” Penny agreed. She finished her meal. “And thank you for the food.”
“I must have done something wrong,” the cook muttered. He eyed the plate suspiciously. “You’re the first person who actually thanked me.”
Penny laughed and left the compartment.
Chapter Nine
Nelson Base, Earth Orbit
“That’s the latest report, Admiral,” Commander Sally Acorn said. “Captain Tracy states that HMS Lillian should be ready for departure along with the rest of the task force.”
“I trust you inspected the report carefully,” James said. “Lillian was in the repair yards last week, wasn't she?”
“Yes, sir,” Sally said. “However, it was only routine maintenance and she has been cleared for active service. The only downside is that some of her crew were drawn from the reserves and need time to work up for duty.”
“Then add her to the fleet list and make sure she’s slotted into the training schedule,” James said, after a moment. He understood Captain Tracy wanting to get into the fight; James would just have to hope that Captain Tracy hadn't been so determined to be involved that he’d creatively edited his readiness report when the CVE left the yards. “Give him copies of the security codes and inform him that I’ll expect him to attend the final briefing before departure.”
“Yes, sir,” Sally said. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Oswald requested an appointment to speak with you, later in the day.”
“Joy,” James said. “Inform him that I will see him” - he glanced at his schedule - “at 1500 precisely, on Nelson Base. I can't afford to take time off to go to London or Luna Nine right now.”
“I’ll see to it,” Sally said. James didn't envy her. The intelligence services - MI5 and MI6 - tended to be pushy. “There was also an update from the Foreign Office. The Americans will be dispatching another carrier to the border, allowing us to pull one back to reinforce the task force.”
“Good,” James grunted. It would be at least two months before the carrier arrived, but by then he had a feeling he’d welcome the reinforcements. “Is there anything else?”
“Not at the moment, sir,” Sally said.
A Small Colonial War (Ark Royal Book 6) Page 9