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Midshipman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 1)

Page 35

by David Feintuch


  The lights were out but I knocked nonetheless. After several raps she came to the door wearing a night robe. “What is it?” She spoke through the glass door.

  I took a deep breath. She deserved honesty, no matter the cost. “Amanda, I love you. I’ll never see you again and I want a better memory to carry home. I’m sorry for my faults. I’m sorry for not telling you. Please, forgive me.”

  She sighed. “Oh, Nicky. Why does it have to be this way?” She came out onto the tiny porch.

  “I’m sorry,” I said dumbly. “I wanted you to be happy. You made me feel so good.”

  Her eyes glistened. “I’ll miss you, Nick. I’ll always think of you.”

  “I wish I could stay, but I can’t. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come back.”

  “I know.” She tried to smile and couldn’t. She kissed me gently on the forehead. “Good-bye, Nicky. Good luck, whatever you do. Lord God be with you.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll get through this without you.” I felt tears coming. “Lord God be with you always.” I quickly turned away. I left without looking back, afraid if I faced her I could not let her go.

  25

  IN THE MORNING, THE sun beat down on the sturdy grasses as I left Admiralty House and crossed the yard to the shuttle pad. I squinted, my head throbbing from the several drinks I’d downed after leaving Amanda. An electrolytic balancer would right me in a hurry, but I wasn’t in the habit of carrying hangover pills and I’d had too much pride to ask for one at Admiralty.

  Forbee had mixed news: only one lieutenant had volunteered for Hibernia, but they’d conscripted another from the Bauxite run. Bauxite, the third planet in Hope Nation system, was serviced by intrasteller Naval vessels without fusion drives. We would rendezvous with the officer’s ship to pick him up.

  Thus I would sail with three lieutenants including Vax Holser. I also had four midshipmen and cadets, but among them, only Alexi was experienced. If I chose to promote Alexi I’d have to leave Derek senior, and he wasn’t ready to command the wardroom. I ordered Forbee to acquire an experienced midshipman however necessary. And quickly: we were to sail in three days.

  As I walked toward the departing shuttle a Hibernia seaman crossed the tarmac from the shade of the terminal building. He saluted as I reached the shuttle steps. My nod was curt.

  “Seaman Porfirio, sir. Uh, could I talk to you a moment, please?” He licked his lips.

  “I suppose. Come aboard.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” He didn’t move. “Down here, please? It’s important, sir.” The shuttle pilot waited, ready to close the hatch.

  I sighed. “Make it fast, sailor.”

  Porfirio looked about as if for assistance. “Would you come with me?”

  Probably it had to do with a girl. Our petty officers were expected to handle these shoreside problems, but none was in sight. I was the last person the unnerved sailor should ask for advice, but for some reason he had fastened on me. I stepped away from the shuttle hatch. “All right, what is it?”

  He backed farther from the shuttle hatch. “This way, Captain. It’ll only take a moment.”

  His manner began to remind me of Captain Grone’s. “Get on with it, sailor. No one can hear us.”

  “I want to show you something, sir.” He backed away another few steps. “By the terminal.”

  Enough was enough. “What is this nonsense, Porfirio?” I stood my ground.

  He made shushing gestures. “Please, Captain. There’s someone I want you to meet.” So, it was a girl. If he thought he could get my permission to bring her aboard, he would by Lord God learn otherwise. The fastest way to put a stop to this foolishness was to confront it right now. I stalked after him to the terminal.

  To my surprise Porfirio led me through the building and out the other side. In another minute I’d miss my bloody shuttle, and Lord God knew when there’d be another. The sailor scuttled across the service road. I followed as far as the Centraltown welcome sign, but he showed no sign of stopping. I used my coldest voice. “Where do you think you’re taking me, sailor?”

  “We’re almost there, sir. Honest.” He pointed past the far curb to a wooded hillside.

  “Of all the insolent, insubordinate monkeyshines!” I was beside myself. “Is that where you’ve hidden her? In the woods?”

  He looked astonished. “You know about her, sir?”

  “You think I’m an idiot? How dare you haul me across town for your fun and games?”

  His face mirrored his anxiety and confusion. “Please, Captain. You shouldn’t talk about her in the open!” The man was demented. It must be something in the air.

  Fuming, I followed him down the street. Just beyond the airport perimeter the undergrowth came almost to the road, completely obscuring the woods behind. Porfirio darted along a narrow path through the brush.

  I hesitated. I could be mugged, even killed. No one would ever find my body. I almost turned back, but with a muttered curse I plunged in after him. I might as well see it through. I’d already missed my shuttle.

  By the time I’d gone a hundred feet, the road behind had completely disappeared. We pushed past low-hanging leafy branches under a dense canopy. Porfirio stopped, put his hands to his mouth, and let out a shrill whistle. I whirled, crouching into karate stance, knowing I’d been lured into a trap.

  The bushes rustled. Out stepped Alexi, dirty and unkempt. Behind him came the two cadets, Paula Treadwell and Ricky Fuentes, their uniforms wrinkled and stained. My fury battled with a sense of relief. I bellowed, “Why in God’s own hell are you skulking in the woods?” I gave Alexi no time to answer. “Leading me on a wild-goose chase, making me miss my shuttle! I’ll have you over the barrel the minute we’re aboard, Mr. Tamarov! Ten demerits! A dozen!”

  Alexi held out an appeasing hand. “I had to see you alone, sir. This was the only way.”

  I shrieked, “Alone? Have you lost your mind?”

  He unfolded a crumpled paper from the pocket of his soiled jacket. “Please, sir. Read it.”

  I snatched the paper. “What is this nonsense?”

  “A court order, sir. Jared and Irene Treadwell have petitioned for a custody hearing for Cadet Treadwell. They say you enlisted Paula against her will. They say they’ve changed their minds about going on to Detour and want to stay here. The court issued a temporary order returning her to them until the hearing. It’s set for two weeks from now. Sir.”

  I scanned the legal paper Alexi had summarized, while Seaman Porfirio shifted nervously from foot to foot. Ricky watched, fascinated. Paula looked sheepish. Alexi added, “Every shuttle pilot has been served with a copy, sir. So have all our officers groundside.”

  “But—it’s—I mean—” I stumbled to a halt.

  “Yes, sir. You ordered me to keep an eye on the cadets and to bring them back to the ship unharmed. I was lucky when they handed me the order, sir. Ricky and Paula—I mean, Cadet Fuentes and Cadet Treadwell—were sightseeing in town when I was served at the shuttleport. I rounded them up and hid them here. We’ve slept out every night and I’ve been sneaking into town for food.”

  My head was spinning. “And Mr. Porfirio—”

  “I’ve had about a dozen of the crew keeping watch for you, sir. They’re all under oath not to say a word.”

  I was stunned by Alexi’s good sense and leadership. It wasn’t for him to question his orders; he knew that it was for me to decide whether to release Cadet Treadwell to the court. His instructions were to guard them.

  Once the girl was back in her parents’ custody we’d never see her again; scheduling the hearing ten days after we were to leave made that clear enough.

  Alexi had preserved my options admirably.

  I turned to our sailor. “You’re commended, Mr. Porfirio. I’ll consider how to reward you when we’re under weigh.” I would give him a promotion and a bonus for his courage in decoying his Captain. The seaman grinned at my words.

  “Mr. Tamarov, the demerits I spoke of are canc
eled. You’ve done a fine job. Outstanding. I’ll mention your exploit in the Log.” He broke into a slow smile of delight. “As for you two ...” With a scowl I rounded on the cadets, who suddenly looked apprehensive. “I’ll deal with you after we get back to the ship!” If they were silly enough to worry about it, that was their problem.

  I took a moment to organize my thoughts. “All right, I know how we’ll handle this. Everybody stay put until I get back.”

  A few minutes later I was at Admiralty House, in Forbee’s office, explaining the situation. “What’s your opinion, Mr. Forbee?”

  He seemed intrigued by the possibilities. “Well, sir, the United Nations Circuit Court represents the U.N. Government on Hope Nation. Because we’re so far from home the only appeal is directly to the Governor, who’s also a civilian appointee. He has plenipotentiary powers and he’s a representative of the U.N. Government. While under weigh, you, as commander of the vessel, also have plenipotentiary powers. But groundside, a captain is subject to the civilian courts.”

  I objected. “They’re challenging an appointment I made under weigh. Its validity isn’t for them to decide.”

  “No, sir. But they may think differently.”

  I paused to think it through. “Admiral Johanson had full authority over Naval affairs even though he was based planetside. His orders weren’t subject to the court, were they?”

  “No, sir.” Forbee blinked.

  “I’m senior Naval officer and in charge of Admiralty House. I don’t have Johanson’s rank, but his duties and responsibilities devolve on me so long as I’m in Hope Nation system. So I have full authority over Naval matters as senior representative of Admiralty.”

  He considered it. “It’s a sustainable position, sir.”

  “Sustai—” I came out of my chair with a roar. “Don’t give me that goofjuice! Paula Treadwell is validly enlisted under Naval authority. Maintain and support that position as vigorously as may be required. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Aye aye, sir!”

  With an effort, I made my voice calm. “Very well. Prepare a general order for me to sign. As senior officer in the Hope Nation system I endorse and ratify the enlistment of Cadet Paula Treadwell by Captain Nicholas Seafort of Hibernia and I order all personnel to defend and support that appointment.”

  Forbee typed into his holovid.

  The next sentence was the one that could see me hanged. “I further order all personnel to defend and protect Ms. Treadwell from any civilian authority, including representatives of U.N. Circuit Court, who attempt to interfere with the performance of her duties.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Now, Mr. Forbee, round up every local system officer who has children. If he or she is out of port, round up their spouse. All children of local officers are invited to a tour of Hibernia tomorrow forenoon. See to it that they accept the invitation. Order a shuttle for the tour. This evening you will pick up some friends of mine in your electricar—you have a car, yes?—and take them home with you for the night. In the morning they will join the tour in clean civilian clothes. Did you get that?”

  He said faintly, “Aye aye, sir.”

  I straightened my tie in my cabin mirror. My hair was brushed neatly, my shoes gleamed, the pants of my dress whites were crisply creased, the length of. service medals pinned to my jacket. I thumbed my caller. “Lieutenant Holser to the aft lock, please.”

  I strode down the Level 2 corridor to the airlock. Vax Holser was waiting when I got there.

  It had been two days since I’d left an anxious Captain Forbee at Admiralty House; Hibernia was due to depart tomorrow. About half our crew had returned from shore leave and the rest were trickling in hour by hour. Passengers for Detour were being ferried up by shuttle. Paula and Ricky, safely aboard, were confined by my orders to Level 1 until embarkation. Paula apologized to me for the trouble her family made; I accepted her apology and ignored her breach of custom in daring to speak to me directly. The circumstances were unusual.

  The officers’ children had a jolly tour of the ship. The moment they filed out the airlock to Orbit Station, Mr. Vishinsky and his detail sealed both locks and posted armed sentries. Their orders were to allow no one aboard except crewmen and passengers for Detour. Passengers’ belongings were searched for weapons before they were permitted aboard, and their papers scrutinized. As a final precaution I had sentries posted at the ladders to Level 1.

  General Tho was of the U.N. Armed Forces, not the Navy. As soon as his shuttle pilot reported that two more children had taken the shuttle to Orbit Station than were waiting to go back, he knew what I had done. He demanded I return young Ms. Treadwell. I refused. Tension abounded, until I announced I would go planetside the next day—today—to appear in Circuit Court regarding Cadet Treadwell.

  Now the time had come. I wondered whether I would see Hibernia again. I might well spend the next half year in a local jail waiting for a ship to take me back to Lunapolis in irons. Well, if so, Amanda would visit me in my cell.

  “Mr. Holser, I order you to defend the ship against unauthorized entry. By that I mean entry by any person except crew or passengers. If I’m not back within twenty-four hours you are to assume I’m held under duress, and that I will not return. You are then to declare yourself Captain and proceed to Detour. Acknowledge your orders.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Acknowledged and understood. May I go groundside with you?”

  “Of course not. Open the hatch, please.” I waited in our airlock, our inner hatch sealed behind me, until Orbit Station’s hatch opened. I strode into the station and turned toward the shuttle bay.

  A U.N.A.F. soldier intercepted me. “General Tho requests you to come with me, Captain.” Was I already under arrest? Uneasy but powerless, I followed him to the General’s office.

  I returned General Tho’s formal salute. He waited until the aide had left, his fingers nervously twisting his tiny mustache. When the hatch had shut, he leaned close. “About time someone gave it to Judge Chesley.” His voice was low. “Man’s been too big for his jumpsuit for years. Good luck!”

  Heartened, I shook his hand. The shuttle was the largest one I’d seen yet. Its many rows of seats were empty; only the pilot, a flight attendant, and I were aboard. General Tho was showing his sympathies the only way open to him.

  Feeling a regal envoy, I sat in the center of the shuttle amid empty acceleration seats while the solidly built craft whisked me toward the surface. Because of the shuttle’s great size reentry was barely noticeable. The pilot glided us toward the runway, brought us down gently, and touched the ground as light as a feather just as he killed the engines. A fine performance.

  The flight attendant opened the hatch and I stepped out.

  “Attention!” Lined up on the tarmac were Captain Forbee and a gathering of officers and seamen, uniforms clean and crisp as if for inspection. I halted, surprised, my hand on the hatch. I hadn’t ordered this show. Apparently Forbee had arranged it to demonstrate the Navy’s support, and to underline my status as senior officer.

  “Carry on, gentlemen.” I strode to the terminal, my manner more confident than I felt. Forbee hurried to catch up.

  “This way to the car, sir.” He gestured to a luxurious late-model electricar.

  I smiled in appreciation of his efforts. “Very good, Mr. Forbee.”

  “With your permission, nine of our officers have asked to be in court with you, sir.”

  “How many officers do you have groundside at present, Captain Forbee?”

  “Nine.”

  “Very well.” Only Forbee climbed into the car with me. The rest piled into two older cars. Our convoy proceeded into town. The U.N. Building was an old-fashioned glass and steel edifice, intended to suggest power and authority.

  The parade came to a halt. Accompanied by all our officers in their Navy blues, I marched into the building.

  It was to be a special session. Already seated in the courtroom, the judge impatiently tapped his fingers on the gleam
ing hardwood bar. Though aged, he was imposing in his flaring red robes and white wig. Behind him was displayed our blue and white U.N. flag. Jared and Irene Treadwell sat with their lawyer at one of the counsel tables.

  The Naval officers filed into the spectators’ benches and mixed with the already sizable crowd. Ignoring the bailiff and court officers, I strode past the polished wooden rail to the unoccupied table.

  “You are Captain Seafort of Hibernia?” demanded the judge.

  “No, sir, I am not,” I said firmly. He looked up in astonishment. “I am Nicholas Ewing Seafort, senior Naval officer on Hope Nation and commander of Admiralty House. I am also in command of U.N.S. Hibernia.”

  His smile was not friendly. “Let the record show the defendant has identified himself.”

  I abandoned thoughts of being conciliatory; my voice rang through the courtroom. “I am no defendant, Judge Chesley. I have come to warn you, in my official capacity, that you have exceeded your authority.”

  There were gasps from the visitors’ benches. The judge slammed his gavel. “How dare you, Captain? Any more such talk and I’ll hold you in contempt of court, which you’re already in anyway by your continued imprisonment of the Treadwell girl!”

  I shot back, “Any more such talk, sir, and I will declare a state of insurrection and assume military government of Hope Nation until civil order is restored!”

  It had popped out of my mouth, before I had time to think. Now my bridges were well and truly burned.

  Pandemonium broke out in the courtroom. The judge was apoplectic. I let my voice ring out. “You know perfectly well, as does everyone in this room, that I am lawful Captain of U.N.S. Hibernia, that while under weigh I enlisted Paula Treadwell into the United Nations Naval Service, and that her enlistment may not be challenged in civil court. This piece of paper that purports to be an order”—I pulled out the crumpled paper Alexi had given me—“argues that Paula’s enlistment was not voluntary and that therefore she should return to the Treadwells’ custody. Is that your assertion?” I turned to the Treadwells and their advocate.

 

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