‘No – oh, no, sir – Alex, I mean!’ Harry was colouring up, almost stammering. ‘Of course I – well, you know – operationally…’ He tried to pull himself together, though he was painfully embarrassed by having such a conversation with anyone, let alone with Alex von Strada. ‘I’m grateful, I really am – Admiral Harangay said it would be a steep learning curve serving with you and it is, but my God, what an opportunity! I mean, look at me!’ He broke into a breathless laugh. ‘We’re on ops looking for a mythical world and handling front line exodiplomacy with Quarus. It’s terrifying, yes, but only because I’m afraid that I won’t be able to come up to the mark, that I might let you down …’ face and voice changed as he caught his breath in a gulp, and looked away. ‘And I’m afraid…’ he said, his manner constrained again. ‘I’m afraid I’ve done something that I’m not very proud of, and that when Ambassador Silver sees me she’ll know, and …’ he swallowed again, his mouth evidently becoming dry, ‘she’ll say about it. So I thought…’ he was attempting to be resolute, now, but not looking Alex in the face, ‘I thought it would be better coming from me, in private.’
Alex smiled. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ he told him. ‘Any disclosures made by Silvie are covered by the amnesty, remember? And we are,’ he added drily, ‘already developing an etiquette for just pretending that something wasn’t said, when it would be damaging to a relationship to acknowledge it. I’ve noticed people doing it on the Heron already, either laughing it off or like…’ he mimed a lip-zipping gesture. ‘And even if it’s something that can’t readily be forgotten, it has to be forgiven.’
‘Well – to be honest,’ Harry admitted, ‘it’s something that I’d be glad to get off my chest and even have your advice on, really. I just don’t quite know how to…’ he took a quick sip of his tea and Alex just sat quietly, giving him time to collect his thoughts. ‘The thing is,’ Harry said, ‘I feel like… I’ve got myself into a bit of a mess. Perhaps I’m just overreacting but I’ve been feeling uncomfortable about it for a while now and, well, when Ambassador Silver arrived it horrified me, frankly. Because, you know, such a fantastic opportunity, my first thought should have been how wonderful, not oh no, what if she finds out? It was only then when I realised I was thinking that that I really knew that what I’ve been doing wasn’t right, if that makes any sense – I guess I just kept telling myself that it was fine, but really I knew that it wasn’t, and it’s been getting … well…’ He took another drink of tea, this time more of a bracing gulp. ‘Difficult. And I don’t really know what to do. But the thing is that I’ve been, uh, writing…’ he paused, drew a breath and got it out, with some difficulty, ‘…to Admiral Jennar.’
He saw the quick grin on Alex’s face and his own expression turned to one of astonishment. ‘You knew?’ Then in the next moment his look became one of horrified suspicion.
‘No,’ said Alex, answering that look rather than the question he’d asked. ‘We have not been monitoring your mail, nor have we carried out any intel observation or analysis on you. It’s just that, since we are being so frank, Buzz offered me a dollar bet on whether you’d be sending private reports to Admiral Jennar and I wouldn’t take him on it, as I knew that was a dead cert.’ He smiled as Harry looked torn between mortification and indignation. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I know him. I know how he operates. I also know that he has been your mentor for much of your career, just as Admiral Harangay has been mine.’
Harry conceded the point with an abashed look. It was indeed entirely normal for senior officers to advise and guide juniors with whom they’d formed a mentoring relationship.
‘He’s always been good to me,’ he said, and with a defensive note, ‘I know the two of you don’t see eye to eye, but he has always been good to me.’
‘Until now,’ Alex observed, and as Harry went to protest, held up a hand. ‘All right. Let’s just say that you find yourself in an equivocal position then, yes?’
‘Uh – yes,’ Harry said, and looked at him with mute appeal.
‘All right,’ said Alex, responding to the plea in Harry’s eyes. ‘Let me guess – he had a little chat with you in a social situation, playing golf or something of that sort, entirely off the record, and asked you to keep him informed about how you got on here, and you agreed, of course, because he is your friend and mentor and what more natural than that you’d write to him? But then at some point it dawned on you that he was actually asking you to write secretly – the letters, I guess, are not directed to him but to a third party?’
Harry gave a tiny nod, and Alex continued.
‘You might have felt a bit uncomfortable about it for a moment but you’d already committed yourself by then and in any case you had no kind of loyalty to me or the Fourth so it may even have seemed right and justified to agree to send him confidential reports. I expect you sent some off from Therik with a strongly negative cast – no surprise there, you were going through an overwhelming time upgrading your ship and adapting to Fourth’s practices and it is, again, only natural that you would have been stressed and complaining about things. And you have been writing reports all the way out from Therik. Only this time, when you sent them off from Kavenko, something was different. This time it was really uncomfortable, it felt as if you were doing something underhand, you tried to justify it to yourself but when you realised that Silvie might expose what you’d done you recognised yourself, as you said, that it really wasn’t right, and that you’re, as you put it, in a mess. Because your loyalties have changed, now – not to me or to the Fourth, but to the missions we are undertaking. Am I right?’
Harry stared at him, ‘You’re not empathic, are you?’ he asked, and Alex laughed.
‘Far from it,’ he said. ‘But I have been here before.’ As Harry continued to stare blankly, he went on, ‘You don’t think you’re the first officer he’s persuaded to spy on us, do you? Though I have to say, by the way, that I really do not see why he bothers. As I’ve said many times before, he is more than welcome to have a team of people following me around the clock and watching everything we do, because we really don’t have anything to hide, and everything that happens is a matter of record anyway.’ He gestured at the automatic cameras making a blind recording even of this private conversation. ‘But Dix Harangay won’t have it, and it’s his decision, so…’ he shrugged. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to worry about having reported to him, I certainly don’t hold that against you, and I’m not concerned with anything you might have told him, either. However negative or critical you might have been about various things, if he tries to make something of it we can access the blind recordings and establish that there was no wrongdoing.’
Harry heaved a sigh.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said, and again, his eyes slid away from Alex’s face. ‘It’s … I have to apologise. I knew it was wrong when I did it, but… Commander Tarrance, sir. Forgive me, but I have to say that I do find him extremely impertinent and above himself, particularly in the way he speaks to you, and it has been something that I’ve noticed, sir, that you don’t check him for. And I did, I’m afraid, put in my report that he said you had the social skills of a brick and that you just laughed.’
‘Ah,’ said Alex, fully alert to the significance of that. Because that had been said in a meeting between the three of them, and those command meetings had been agreed as informal and private. What had been discussed might be disclosed in general terms, but what anyone had said, specifically, was supposed to stay in that cabin. It was a gentleman’s agreement, a matter of honour, and Harry had broken a code more important than any regulation in violating that. ‘Well,’ Alex said philosophically, ‘it was a good line. And no, I didn’t check him for it, Harry. I’ve known Dan Tarrance since he was a cadet and I have no problem with him joking with me like that in private. And he does only joke with me in private, of course, as could be readily established by any investigation into our dealings. Worst case scenario, in fact, if Admiral Jennar tries to make somethi
ng of that and allege that there is a lack of authority or improper relationship between us, it would very quickly be confirmed that all our on-duty interactions have been professional and that the joke you reported was made in the context of a meeting defined as informal and strictly confidential.’ He saw that Harry was flushing at that and did not need to point out that the only person to come out of such an investigation badly would be Harry himself, for having violated that trust.
‘Yes sir and I am very sorry about it,’ Harry assured him. ‘The only thing I can say, hand on heart,’ he suited the gesture to the word, ‘is that nothing I have said in any of my reports could be used as evidence of wrongdoing because there has, as you say yourself, not been any wrongdoing. It’s just, I suppose, well, a difference in command style, but everybody knows what you’re like anyway so…’ he broke off, realising that this was not improving the situation. ‘Anyway I hope I can say that there hasn’t been any harm done – though I will, of course,’ he added conscientiously, ‘apologise to Commander Tarrance for breaking confidentiality.’
‘If you feel you must, then do so,’ Alex said. ‘But I wouldn’t make too big a deal of it, Harry – he certainly won’t.’
‘No?’ Harry looked doubtful, as he was convinced that Dan Tarrance would seize on this as a wonderful opportunity to get crowing rights over him.
‘No – he really can’t be bothered with that kind of thing,’ Alex said. ‘Any rivalry you think that there might be between you is entirely in your head, believe me. Dan Tarrance does not play politics; all he cares about is doing the job that’s in front of him.’
‘Hmmn,’ Harry recognised the truth of that, and looked rueful. ‘I’m beginning to feel that way myself,’ he admitted. ‘I mean, all this… I just don’t feel that internal politics, even at Admiralty level, is anything like as important as the missions that we’re undertaking, and I absolutely do not want those missions to be compromised in any way by any action of mine. Which is what you mean by ‘loyalty to the mission’, isn’t it?’
Alex nodded. ‘A matter of priorities,’ he confirmed. ‘Before, you didn’t understand what we were doing or how important it is. Now, you do. And you don’t want the distraction or the hassle of having to deal with petty politics. Which, I’m guessing, is where the question of wanting my advice comes in.’
Harry gave several quick, fervent nods.
‘He’ll be expecting me to send more reports from Telathor,’ he said, and in a burst of disclosure which surprised him more than Alex, ‘and the thing is. I don’t want to. But at the same time, I…’ he trailed off and looked at the captain, helplessly. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’
‘Well,’ said Alex, practically, ‘you have, as I see it, three options. You can continue to send him reports being just as negative as you have been in order to keep in with him. That’s a no, then.’ He gave a swift grin at Harry’s involuntary wince even at the suggestion. ‘Second option, you can write to him openly explaining that you’re not going to do the via-third-party reports any more as you feel that to be inappropriate, but that you’re happy to keep him informed, openly and above board, of anything he might be interested in. Honestly that would not be a problem for me or for any of us. I should point out, though, that the moment he knows you’re insisting on everything being above board he will assume from that that you’ve been contaminated by the abominable Fourth and that neither you nor your reports can be trusted in the future. And the same goes for your third option, telling him that you’re not going to report to him at all any more because you feel you need to focus on operational priorities.’
‘He’d be furious,’ Harry said, in a small voice. ‘He’d think I’m betraying him.’
‘Indeed,’ said Alex. ‘And without getting into things here, Harry, which neither of us have the time for, I do just have to observe that I cannot imagine for one moment Dix Harangay asking me to write to him secretly, via a third party, to inform him about Fleet colleagues, subordinates and superiors. I don’t even write to him personally – all our correspondence is on record. But if he had asked me to do something off the record for him as a personal favour, and I then wrote and told him I couldn’t do it because I had to focus on mission priorities, I can’t believe that he would regard that in any way as a betrayal of loyalty to him, because he would recognise at once that my loyalty there, my priorities, are exactly where they should be, on the missions we are undertaking in the service of the League.
‘Yes … I see what you mean.’ Harry was thinking hard, and sipped his tea with a frown. ‘And you’re right – of course you’re right. I’ll write and tell him I’m not going to send any more reports, that our missions are too important to have that kind of distraction.’
‘Well, you’ll have plenty of time to think through what you want to do, on the way to Telathor,’ Alex pointed out. ‘The important thing here is that you’ve got these things out in the open so you don’t need to worry about Silvie exposing them. Though I do have to tell you, Harry, that if you made a public announcement of this and put it on notice boards across the Fourth that you’ve been sending secret reports to Admiral Jennar, there would not be one person in this squadron who would be surprised, and very few who’d even be interested.’
Harry looked more affronted than comforted by that.
‘Am I that obvious, then?’
‘No,’ said Alex. ‘But he is.’
‘Oh.’ Harry managed a wry smile. Then, avoiding a topic of conversation he felt to be beyond possible even in this atmosphere of frank disclosure, he finished his tea. ‘Thank you,’ he said, then, and gave Alex a look of self-conscious gratitude. There were many unpleasant ways, he knew, in which Alex could have responded to his confession, and in his heart Harry knew that he would have been perfectly entitled to do so. That he’d been so generous about it really was something Harry felt indebted to him for. ‘Thank you, sir – you’ve been… very kind.’
‘I’ve only been honest,’ said Alex, and laughed. ‘Which is a condition sweeping through the Fourth like an epidemic.’ His laugh came out again with a sudden peal of mischief and merriment. ‘You just wouldn’t believe the number of people having quiet words with shipmates or confessing things to superiors. People have realised, just as you did, that it’s better to set things straight themselves rather than wait in dread of Silvie exposing them. Particularly,’ he added with a grin, ‘as it’s become apparent that that fear draws her to you like a magnet, concerned about you and wanting to help. So there is, right now, a positive orgy of confession and reconciliation going on aboard the Heron.’
Harry nodded and found himself able to smile. ‘I’ve noticed a similar thing here,’ he agreed. ‘And.’ a realisation came to him, ‘I do feel better – not worried now about meeting her, but, you know…’ an abashed little grin, ‘thrilled!’
Alex nodded.
‘We’ll see you for dinner, then,’ he said. Buzz was holding a dinner that evening to welcome Silvie – a traditional courtesy for guests of the wardroom – and he knew that Harry had been invited, as had Dan. This, as he’d now finished his own coffee, was clearly preparing to take his departure, but he saw a flick of micro-expressions which told him Harry had more he wanted to say. Repressing an inner sigh, Alex looked enquiringly at him. ‘Something else?’
‘Well…’ Harry looked apologetic. ‘I’m concerned about a couple of my crew – O/S Towitz, for one.’
Alex looked concerned too, because he was. Ordinary Star Jimek Towitz had joined the Fourth on a rehab transfer, referred to them by his previous commanding officer after yet another incident of wild emotional outburst.
On the face of it, he looked exactly like the kind of bullock the Fourth’s rehab scheme had been set up to help. He was nineteen and had been with the Fleet for three years. He should have been rated Able Star as soon as he was old enough, and given his exceptional abilities as a technician, should be well on his way to Leading Star tech with a future career which should take him t
o the top of the non-commissioned ranks.
He had, however, remained stuck at the lowest grade of the lowest rank, with a long trail of interventions and disciplinary proceedings all of which involved emotional outbursts.
Alex had reviewed Jimmo Towitz’s file himself and concurred with previous commanding officers that his problem was a combination of professional frustration and emotional immaturity. There was just nothing you could tell Jimmo Towitz about starship technology. He had that rare talent, the ability to understand systems which made the difference between the kind of grease monkey who could follow diagnostics and replace parts as required, and a technician who could modify and develop. Unfortunately, the realities of his rank meant that people very often were telling him about starship technology, usually very slowly and even sometimes, wrongly. It was understandable in those circumstances that Jimmo would kick off in angry frustration. At the same time, his personal immaturity had been noted by counsellors, with an advisory that he would need particular care and ideally, one-to-one support from a suitably parental officer.
Alex had felt confident that the Fourth was just what Jimmo Towitz needed. They would recognise his expertise, here, regardless of his rank, and give him every scope for professional development. And that, coupled with personal mentoring from an appropriate officer, should help him to mature as a person as well as achieving his professional potential.
Only, it wasn’t working out that way. Jimmo Towitz was the first person the Fourth had ever had who’d put in a formal request to change mess decks because he’d fallen out with his shipmates, something so extraordinary that both Buzz and Alex had been closely involved. Then a couple of weeks after that he’d asked to transfer from the Heron to the Minnow.
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