As that had been exactly my intent, I was contented. The shift had been going rather well. Instead of feeling enervated by the hordes of advice-seekers, I found myself drawing energy from our interaction. It was an effect I had not foreseen. I couldn’t wait to see what response my findings would glean from my correspondents.
Looking out over the eager throng who were still awaiting my attention, I made haste to clear the Croctoid paw chart from my viewpad screen. A human woman with the shoulder flashing of a security officer stood up and pushed through the crowd. She clasped her hands together. Clearly, she didn’t want her palm read.
“May I have your place and date of birth?” I asked. She recoiled. I read her physical response as skittishness.
“No!” she said, firmly. “I would prefer not to give you any personal information.”
“Very well, then,” I said. I unslung my lucky circuit from around my neck and dangled it over the surface of the table. “Ask me your question, then, and we’ll see what the pendulum tells us.”
She started to open her mouth, when a blaring mechanical voice interrupted us.
“Make way, please. Make way.”
The crowd parted around an obstacle that I could not immediately see. It did not take mediumistic talent to discern the source, since I had heard the same speech oftentimes before. A serverbot emerged from amid the waiting crowd and rumbled up to me.
“The captain would like to see you, Lieutenant,” it said.
I straightened up. The top of the ’bot rose until it was eye to eye with me, so to speak, as it had no visible optical inputs.
“Now?” I asked.
“Promptly,” it assured me. “Please follow me.”
I gestured at my impedimenta, now well spread out over multiple tables.
“It will take me a while to tidy this up.”
“Now, lieutenant,” it said. “Please leave your property in place. You may return for it later.”
I raised my hands helplessly to the crowd of seekers.
“I will be back as soon as I can,” I said.
Without another word, the ’bot glided toward the door. I shouldered out of my robe and followed at my leisure. The captain had asked me to appear promptly, not on the double. On the way, I tidied myself up, and tucked away the lucky circuit in a belt pouch. It twinkled brightly as I put it away. The very color of the lights cheered my soul.
I wondered as to the subject of my conference with the senior officer. Had Jil’s party gone amiss in some way? Had my cousin finally offended him to the point where he needed a family member’s intercession? That had to be it. Jil could be annoying. Though the Bonchance was in what was considered safe space, he was still the master of a warship. The more of his time she demanded, the less he had to devote to his duties. I had tried to make this apparent to my cousin, but it would seem that my warnings had fallen upon deaf ears. Or perhaps he wanted to thank me himself, on the off-chance that Jil had confessed the source of the bounty provided to her guests.
I opened my viewpad to see if she had sent me any messages. Nothing from her was in my inbox. She had, however, commented upon my postings regarding my studies. Depending upon her mood, or so it would seem, she was alternatively admiring and scathing. So very Jil. Well, no clue there. It was better, I mused, not to anticipate too keenly. I took a surreptitious glance at my coin flip program for an indication. It was inconclusive.
The ’bot led me down the corridor just aft of the bridge, where the senior crew maintained office space. A square red light flared out from its top piece to touch the palm pad beside the door. The portal slid aside.
“Please go in, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you,” I said. I stepped over the threshold. The door hissed closed behind me. Back as erect as a plumb bob, I waited for Captain Naftil to take notice of me. He was reading from the console embedded in the nondescript desk. By the line that had formed between his winged brows, I deduced that what was on the document in question was a source of concern to him. With a sweep of his right forefinger, he dismissed it. His dark eyes flicked upward.
“Enter,” he said. I marched forward and stood at parade rest before him.
I surveyed my surroundings. Again, there was much to compare with ships I had traveled aboard previously. The walls were filled with holographic images of captains past as well as physical artifacts, prized possessions of those departed general officers, such as prize flags, models of ancient ships, and carven award plaques. The pale blue glassteel desk, nearly in the center of the small square space, was working furniture, with nothing to recommend it aesthetically. It also stood in a direct line from the door. I could have advised him of a more harmonious feng shui arrangement, but the forbidding expression on his face suggested I let him set the subject for discussion.
Captain Naftil was not long in coming to the point. He interleaved his fingers together and set his joined hands on the desktop.
“Kinago, what are you doing?”
“Getting to know the crew, sir,” I said. “I believe that I have met approximately sixty seven point five percent of the contingent. Good people, all.”
“I am very glad to hear you say that.”
His expression was cautiously neutral. I beamed at him.
“I try, sir. I believe that it behooves me, as a scion of the noble house as well as my mother’s son, to provide a good example and offer fellowship to those who are brave enough to serve aboard an Imperium naval vessel.”
“You have done a little more than offer fellowship, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I have,” I said. There was no point in concealing my activities. I was not ashamed of them. “I am sharing the fruit of several months’ research with my shipmates.”
“Seeking popularity among the crew?”
“Well,” I said modestly, “it has had that effect. At first I did not offer. I only discussed my interests with a co-worker on my station, and he asked me to expand further. Others confessed their interest. Because that suits the nature of my investigations, I permitted them to take part. Word spread from there. And who am I to refuse to provide entertainment on our long journey among the stars?” I was pleased with my turn of phrase, possessed as it was of two meanings at least. Naftil was unmoved.
“You are trying to get attention, Kinago. Is it because you were not seated at my table?”
“If I am honest, sir, perhaps I must admit it began there, but it has taken on a life of its own. I am doing my best to keep it under control. Everyone seems to be enjoying it, sir.”
“Er, fortune-telling . . . it is not sanctioned by the Fleet.”
“I am sure it isn’t,” I said, passionately. “Bureaucracies have, by their nature, deeply rooted and unshakably stiff structures. They are not easily bent toward the softer sciences.”
“Eh? You call it a science?”
“Sociology is a science, Captain.”
As if in answer, he touched the surface of his desk. An image rose from it. I recognized myself in the middle of a large crowd. I had assumed an air of authority and had my hands raised, palm outward, to the group. I thought I looked rather well, if I had to say so myself.
“If you’re not in a receptive frame of mind, how will you absorb the wisdom of the ages?” my recorded image asked grandly of the faces pressing in upon it. Naftil touched the desk again, and my digital image froze in place, with my teeth bared upon my last syllable.
“The wisdom of the ages?” Naftil asked, with one eyebrow raised.
“Perhaps I was laying it on a little heavily,” I said. “I was only trying to restore peace in the room. It would have rebounded upon the crew’s performance after the rest period if they were to harbor resentment and ill feelings for the space of several hours, sir.”
“So this has nothing to do with . . . magic?”
“I have never found a sound basis for magic, sir. My studies are purely for my own enjoyment, and by extension, enjoyment by others.”
The other ey
ebrow joined its fellow on high upon the captain’s forehead.
“I had a navigator go off sick for a day because you told him that the stars were misaligned for his efficiency.”
“Well, that tells you something about him, doesn’t it? I told everyone that my predictions were for entertainment purposes only. The most interesting thing I have discovered in my studies is that people want to believe.”
“Do they?”
“Oh, yes, Captain.” I produced my viewpad and brought up study after study. The images, charts and reports fanned out across Naftil’s desk. “Foreknowledge of the future, even highly generalized or clearly false, seems to give people comfort. I enjoy giving comfort to those who need it.”
Naftil narrowed his eyes at me.
“And you believe that you should undergo no punishment for distracting my crew in this fashion?”
I was shocked at the notion, although not surprised.
“I don’t believe so, sir. My divinations before reporting to you suggested that you find my efforts without merit, but not against any written regulations.” I added hopefully, “Everyone finds it most amusing.”
He drummed his fingertips on the desktop. His long oval nail beds told me that he was fair by nature as well as friendly and open. If he had had the triangular nails of Commander Diesen, I would have known not to chance his temper, but when faced with such a trait, I felt it was worth the attempt. He studied me for a long while. I presented him with a pleasant and open countenance.
“Interesting,” he said. “You do not attempt to invoke the First Space Lord?”
“Not twice, sir. If there is anything that my mother has done for her children, captain, it is to assure us that when we make a decision, we stand behind it. She has nothing to do with my actions. They are mine and mine alone.”
Captain Naftil was unmoved but I hoped not unimpressed. He raised one of those oval-nailed forefingers and pointed it at me.
“No more fortune telling on my ship, lieutenant. And that is final.”
“Not even on my off-shifts, sir?” I asked plaintively.
“No. Please do not involve my crew in your studies. They are here to defend the Imperium, not to act as your test subjects. If you do not comply, you will be given punishment detail.”
I suppressed a sigh.
“As you wish, Captain. I did not mean to give offense. But,” I added hopefully, “if you would like, I will arrange to give you a private reading. So you can see what the others have seen.”
“No.”
“It wouldn’t take long. Your date and place of birth are in the ship’s records. I could download them in a microsecond.”
“No!” Naftil said.
“Are you sure, sir?” I wheedled. “You seemed interested when the subject first came up.”
His complexion went from tan to burgundy.
“Out!”
I snapped off a perfect salute, turned on my heel and marched out.
The others were waiting for me around the table in the recreation center. I could not suppress the smugness I felt as I strutted in the door.
“No punishment?” Redius asked, almost astonished. I favored him with a triumphant grin.
“No. The captain found me harmless but amusing.”
“He does not know,” Redius said, with a breathy laugh.
“Hey, Thomas,” Allen said, coming up to me with his tablet in hand. “What about the next person?”
“I regret to say that the captain has put a halt to our activities,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
Allen looked stricken.
“There’s half the crew waiting,” he whispered, showing me the list. He glanced nervously over his shoulder. The group watched us avidly, straining to hear what we were saying. “What will I tell them?”
“That’s not your responsibility,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s mine.” I went to address the waiting crowd. “Friends, I am very sorry. Captain Naftil has told me that the fleet does not sanction the reading of fates. With deep regrets, I must inform you that I am folding my tent for the last time. I hope you will understand. We must all accede to naval regulations. I am sure that he has a good reason for withdrawing a form of entertainment that all of you were enjoying. The welfare of the crew and this ship is paramount in his concern. I agree with that wholeheartedly. While I regret not being able to amuse you in the manner I had hoped, I am grateful for the interest that you have shown in my hobby.”
“Down with the captain!” a Croctoid boomed from the rear of the crowd.
I favored him with a shocked look.
“He is your superior officer,” I said. “A protector of the Imperium. I demand your respect on his behalf on behalf of the Emperor whom, I beg you to recall, is my cousin.”
Most of those around him elbowed or poked him. He batted their hands away.
“Aw, I didn’t mean it! I was only joking.”
“It is not a joking matter,” I said. “What if you were overheard by anyone but your close friends and allies?” I swept a hand to indicate the rest of the listeners, all of who were listening with eyes bugged out.
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Kinago. Honest. I think the captain’s great. I was just, I mean . . .”
I gave him a rueful smile.
“As one who has become adept at reading the infinite, I will tell you that all things are fleeting. Your disappointment will be as temporary as mine.”
The waiting audience, no longer mine, began to disperse. A number of the most discontented loitered in a group near the door, favoring me with dark glances. I fetched an inward sigh.
“The messenger who carries bad news always seems to gather the opprobrium that the news itself deserves,” I told Redius.
With the help of Redius and Allen, I gathered up my possessions and took them back to my cabin.
“I think I sounded almost official back there,” I said. “Alas, that I must defend a policy I think is so unsound.”
“Too bad,” Allen said. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had on this ship.”
The bells rang for mess. Redius, Allen and I made our way to the hall. I did my best to keep my posture erect, but I felt the weight of authority on my back and glares of annoyance drilling into my skin, altogether a most uncomfortable collection of sensations. I bore in mind not only the captain’s words but those of my mother. She had asked me to respect Naftil’s office. I had and I would, but it was hard. There must have been a hundred and forty people still on the list waiting to have their fortunes told, and whom I was dying to add to my research database. If only I had some means of continuing!
As had been the case since we came aboard, we had a quartet of new people at dinner to meet.
“So you’re the guy,” said Tolchik, a woman of late middle years who wore second lieutenant’s insignia, when we had exchanged names—a superfluity, I always thought, since our names were on our uniforms.
“I am,” I said, with a hand held modestly to my chest. “If by ‘the guy’ you mean the most talented dancer, raconteur and sportsman on board, not to mention the fastest potter in the hydroponics lab.”
“Kind of,” Tolchik said. She had an all-weather complexion as though she had spent most of her years on a ship in atmosphere, not out in space. Quick blue eyes peered out from within wrinkled lids. “I hear you see the future.”
“The same as everyone else, a moment at a time,” I replied. She snorted.
“You’re just being modest. I came down to the rec center last shift. I signed up on the list to get my turn to hear what you had to say, but I hear you’re not doing it any more.”
“Well, the captain is against it,” I said. “Chain of command, you know.”
Tolchik squinted one bright eye at me, then wheeled her gaze to the head table, where Sinim was telling a story, to the obvious merriment of the captain.
“Well, he can’t hear us now, can he?”
My heart sank. I knew what she was asking. I glanced at Redius.
His jaw was half open in amusement, and a twinkle hovered in his big dark eyes.
“I suppose he can’t,” I said. I fought to keep control of my impulses. “Wouldn’t you like to hear a funny story instead? I have a corker that I unearthed from the most unlikely source, an autobiography of an explorer who lived five millennia ago. I don’t mind borrowing material as long as I credit the original storyteller,” I told the others. “Better to have such things out in the open, where they can elicit laughs and good cheer, than sitting in the files of some antiquary who won’t get the joke.”
“No, sir,” Tolchik said, leaning toward me. She reached out to grab my forearm. “I’m serious. I need a peep at my future. Look at me! I’m seventy, and never made it up the ranks. I got to know if I bother to stay in the service or go ahead and take pension. I got good years ahead of me—or do I?”
My heart bobbed back to the surface, and went out to her.
“I am sure you do,” I said. “I think . . .”
“Thomas . . . !” Redius began to voice a warning. I shrugged regret.
“What can I do? It isn’t fair that Tolchik didn’t get her turn. I had hoped to offer my services to everyone who made the list before the ban was placed. She would have received some measure of comfort.”
I dropped to silence as one of the serverbots arrived tableside with a tray full of main-course plates. It was not too much to assume that the staff would report violations of personal electronics use or other misbehavior. A pair of mechanical hands came up out of its dome and served each of us. It also deposited two pairs of squeeze bottles of sauce at each end of the table. As soon as it rumbled away, fresh inspiration struck. I regarded the dish before me. A golden-brown cutlet of some variety lay there upon a bed of purple rice, flat, enticing and featureless.
“Now, this is a marvelous coincidence,” I said, in delight. “We have here a perfect blank slate. I have been working on an entirely new divination method. I call it condimentomancy.”
“Condiwhoozeewas?” Tolchik asked. The rest of our fellow diners looked just as puzzled.
“Yes, indeed,” I said. “Here.” I handed her one of the bottles of sauce. It contained a grayish-brown cream. “Go ahead and anoint your meal as you normally would.”
Fortunes of the Imperium Page 17