Prisoner's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 3)

by David Feintuch

  We lost Valencia.

  As inconclusively as the attack had begun, it dwindled. Finally, hours had passed with no further reports of attack. The surviving ships searched grimly for enemies, without success, but their sailors couldn’t be kept at Battle Stations indefinitely. Our armada stood down.

  It was late into the night before I left Admiralty House, drained and exhausted. We’d done nothing but listen and record, yet I felt as if I’d been in the thick of battle. My nerves tingled with the rush of adrenaline and fear.

  Disoriented, I looked for my electricar, realized that Annie had dropped me at the spaceport the day before for my trip aloft. Without qualms I ordered a midshipman to drive me home in an Admiralty car. After all, I was acting Head of Station.

  I brooded while we rode in silence through deserted streets. No one knew from where the fish came. Our xenobiologists suggested a large, low-density planet near a hot sun, but that was merely guesswork. We had no idea whether the fish themselves, or their outriders, were the dominant species. Perhaps they were symbiotes. They might even be different elements within one species. Both fish and outriders appeared to be unicellular organisms on a hitherto unimaginable scale. Were either species intelligent, or did they attack instinctively, without reason?

  The middy cleared his throat. “Pardon, is that your building, sir?”

  I nodded, realized he couldn’t see in the dark. “Yes. Let me out in front.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  At the curb I got out, waved him off. In the distance boisterous shouts echoed. Some drunken melee, downtown.

  So, what were we to do about the invaders? The U.N. had seventeen major colonies on hospitable worlds, and more planned. We mined a number of less-livable worlds for ores and fissionable elements. Our Navy couldn’t possibly defend all our colonies at once; it would require ten times the ships we had, and each represented a colossal investment.

  I trudged slowly up the walk, absently noting the twin shadows cast by Major and Minor. Could we abandon our colonies, withdraw to home system? Even retreat wouldn’t free us from peril, unless our fleet stopped Fusing. Perhaps even that was too late; at least one fish had appeared in home system, mortally wounded, speared by Challenger’s prow in our last desperate attack.

  I touched my thumb to the lock and let myself in quietly so as not to wake Annie.

  Until we learned how many fish existed, we couldn’t know if our fleet had the strength to protect Hope Nation, or if we’d be overwhelmed and annihilated. Today we’d lost three ships, and on them men I’d entertained in this very apartment. Captain Tenere of Freiheit, missing and presumed dead. Lieutenant Ter Horst of Resolute.

  I groped my way to my favorite living-room chair, slipped off my shoes. Well, Mr. Ter Horst had met his aliens, and his optimism hadn’t been justified. In the bedroom Annie stirred, moaned; a bad dream. Would she have been safer on Detour? For that matter, would Concord ever reach port there, or would the fish ravage her en route? Had I saved Annie’s life, or held her back in greater peril?

  Annie moaned again. I stood, my limbs weary. I was the one accustomed to nightmares; if my wife began having them too...

  I padded to the bedroom door. Morning would be soon enough to worry about the fish. I heard Annie thrash against the sheets. I’d wake her, comfort her.

  I opened the door. “Hon, are you all—”

  A bare back, broad hips thrusting against upturned thighs, flesh gleaming in the light of two moons, frozen in a petrified moment of silence. As one they turned in shock, stared at the door.

  Annie. Eddie Boss.

  For an endless moment the tableau held.

  I spun, slammed the door, bolted through the darkened living room, fumbled for my shoes. The sound of a window sliding, in the bedroom. I felt along the floor, pawed under the chair.

  Eddie. Annie. I barked my shin on the coffee table. Where were the God-cursed shoes?

  A shaft of light; the bedroom door opened. My shoes were near the couch where I’d left them.

  Annie, a robe thrown over her nakedness. “Nicky?”

  I tugged the laces tight on the left shoe, thrust my foot into the right.

  “Nick...”

  I stumbled to the door, opened it, lurched outside, fighting not to retch. The moonlight blinded me after the dark of the house. Mechanically I set one foot in front of the other. The walkway stretched to eternity. I reached our car. I couldn’t trust myself to drive, not yet. The sidewalk, then. I strode, faster and faster, until my breath rasped and the darkened houses began to give way to the offices and stores of downtown.

  I tried to think of nothing. Images intruded. My footsteps echoed, surprisingly loud.

  I walked with head down, hands in my pockets. I heard a rasping sob, realized it was my own, cut it off. I crossed a street, then another. I passed an alley. Again I heard the footsteps, understood they weren’t mine.

  “Well, looka we have here!” A hand spun me around.

  “What do you want?” I spat out the words.

  “How ’bouta little loan? Few unibucks, ’til payday?” A brutish face leered in reflected moonlight.

  Behind him, two broad-shouldered hoodlums snickered. “Skip the bilge, just do him!”

  I slapped the hand from my shoulder. The other two joeys circled, their mirth vanished. A knife glinted.

  “Hey, for an Uppie, you’re kinda—whuf!”

  I’d put everything I had into the uppercut. He reeled backward, slammed into the brick wall. His eyes rolled up as he slid to the ground.

  “Get the motherfuc—”

  The voice sounded like Eddie’s. With a howl I hurled myself under the knife, wrenched the joey’s arm, butted him in the stomach. He doubled over. I kneed his face with all the strength I could muster. A bone snapped. The third man backed away, hands extended, waving me off. He fled as I charged.

  We sprinted through an alley, across an empty lot. Gradually he pulled ahead. Despite my frenzied efforts I fell back, until at last I lost him in the distant shadows. I fell to my knees, chest heaving, heart slamming against my ribs. Slowly the mists cleared.

  When I could breathe again, I walked, until the first rays of daylight crept over downtown. I found a restaurant that opened early, sat at the counter sipping at steaming coffee, all I could afford. I’d left my jacket with my ID and money in my living room.

  I couldn’t abandon all my clothes; I had to go home. I would have to see her, if only for a moment. Where would I stay? Another apartment, perhaps. Or Naval barracks; they were open to me. I dropped a bill on the counter and plodded to the door.

  Our apartment was many blocks to the west. Filthy and exhausted, I stumbled along the road, willing the streets to pass. My feet ached.

  Ages later I trod the walkway, under a balcony whose view I’d once relished. I pressed my thumb to the lock, took a deep breath, walked in.

  Annie lay curled on the couch, eyes red. “Nicky?”

  My jacket first. I thrust in my arms. Now I had my papers, my pay, my insignia. An officer again, I felt a shade more secure.

  “I’m sorry, Nicky.” She sat hunched over, eyes wary. “I din’ wan’ hurt you.”

  I would need clothes. I went to the bedroom, opened the closet, slung my duffel on the bed. She’d put on fresh sheets, blanket folded down from the pillow, Navy corners. As if clean sheets could—I forced down the thought. Underwear, shirts, socks. I traded my grimy shirt for a fresh one.

  She came to the bedroom door, sagged against it. “Talk to me, Nicky. Please.”

  I zipped the duffel.

  Defiantly she stood in the open doorway, blocking my exit. “You got to unnerstan’ one thing,” she said. “I din’ mean hurt you.” Her beseeching eyes met mine. “Eddie an’ I, we tribe. We knowed each other since N’Yawk! Tribe alla time doin’ it, doncha unnerstan’? Even onna ship. Eddie wasn’ only one.”

  I focused on the closet, desperate not to hear her words. What else would I need in barracks?

>   She fell into a chair by the door. “If you won’ talk, listena me, then. I don’ wan’ you to go. You be my husban’.”

  “Until the Church grants an annulment.”

  She flinched as if struck. “Nicky, there anything I can do, make it up?”

  “No.”

  She cried, “But I love you! Din’ mean nothin’, what we was doin’!”

  My slap knocked her sideways out of the chair, onto her knees. Her fingers crept to her reddened face. I strode to the door, and beyond.

  6

  I DROVE THROUGH DOWNTOWN looking for the barracks. I’d never had occasion to visit them but I knew they were behind Centraltown Hospital.

  After a few twists and turns I was hopelessly lost. Finally I managed to reorient myself, but seeing the hospital reminded me two days had passed since I’d heard Alexi had wakened from his coma.

  I parked, signed into barracks. The bored petty officer at the desk assigned me a room; I saw it had a bed, dumped my duffel on it, closed the door behind me as I left.

  At the hospital I trudged wearily to Alexi’s room. I opened the door cautiously, lest he be asleep. Alexi, bundled in a robe, sat by the window, hands crossed in his lap.

  My heart leapt. “Oh, Alexi! How are you?”

  “Not too bad, today.” His eyes were on mine, as if awaiting my tidings.

  “Thank heaven. We were so worried.” Awkwardly I sat on the bed. “You were unconscious for so long...”

  “Eleven days, they say.”

  “Does your head hurt?”

  “No, but I’m weak as a baby.”

  I smiled. “We’ll take care of that.” Annie and I could fatten—My smile vanished. “You’ll get your strength back.” I stared at the floor. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Yes?” He watched me warily, as if he already knew. Had Annie been here first? She couldn’t have. Eddie Boss, then?

  “Things aren’t going well, Alexi.” I stared through the window. “The planters are disgusted that I haven’t done anything for them, and at home—”

  “I think you’d better—”

  “No, let me finish,” I said urgently. It was hard to speak, but I knew I must, before I burst. “Annie and I...while you were in coma, she and Eddie Boss and I sat with you almost every day. They called her for embarkation on Concord, and I married her. I wanted you there, but we didn’t know when you’d recover.” Or if. My eyes stung.

  “Uh, I—”

  I blurted, “Alexi, she’s been with Eddie. I found them coupling in the bedroom. I took a room in barracks, but I don’t know what to do.” My voice was unsteady. “Help me. Please.”

  A moment’s silence.

  Alexi said, “Could you perhaps tell me who you are?”

  An hour later we sat across from each other, Alexi on the bed, me in the chair. “You can’t remember Academy either?”

  “I’m trying. Don’t you know how much I want to remember?”

  “I’m not criticizing,” I said gently. “Help me understand.”

  “I’ve been over it all with the doctors.”

  “Would you tell me too?”

  “Why?”

  “For old times’ sake. For our friendship.”

  “I don’t have any old times,” he said bitterly. “Don’t you realize?”

  “No!” I flared. “And unless you help me, I never will!”

  He recoiled from my wrath. Then, a sardonic smile. “Well, perhaps I deserved that; I wouldn’t know. All right. When I woke up, I couldn’t figure out where I was. A hospital, obviously, but where?” He shook his head. “They told me Hope Nation. It was...I’d heard of it, someplace, like a book I’d read years ago. When they called me ‘Alexi,’ I knew it was my name. At least I have that.”

  I ached for him. “Go on.”

  “They told me I’m a lieutenant in the Navy. It’s not that it feels wrong. I can accept being a lieutenant. I just don’t remember becoming one. You have to be a midshipman first, don’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “I remember my mother; she lives in Kiev. Before I left for school in the morning she’d thaw my lunch.” His eyes showed alarm. “Is she still alive?”

  “I don’t know, Alexi.”

  “You said you were my closest friend.”

  “We were apart a year and a half. And we’re a long way from home.”

  “If anything’s happened to her...” His eyes filled.

  “I’m sure she’s all right,” I said.

  “The snow crunched under my feet on the way to school...you had to jiggle the switch to make our classroom holo work. I’m not a boy any longer, but those are my memories!”

  “The others will come back.”

  “How do you know?”

  I sighed. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

  “I’d rather die than live like this!” He turned his face.

  “Oh, Alexi.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll be all right.”

  Alexi turned. Coldly he said, “Take your frazzing hand off me!”

  I trudged back to the barracks, reeling from exhaustion. Above me loomed the spire of Reunification Cathedral, where Annie and I were married. I tried to block out her radiant smile, the sparkling ruby necklace, my answering grin of pleasure as we knelt at the altar to take our vows.

  Until death do us part. Unless, of course, the marriage was annulled. I grimaced. Even if the elders permitted it, annulment made a travesty of our vows. The Church granted divorce for adultery, though several constituent sects consented to the rite with utmost reluctance. I would have to apply through the diocese and wait for approval. I headed up the barracks steps. What choice had I? I couldn’t live with what she’d done.

  For better or worse, until death do us part. I paused, my hand on the door.

  Not adultery, Lord. That was too much to ask. Even the Church doesn’t expect it.

  “Ahh, Nicholas...” Father, his eyes bleak and disapproving.

  In sickness and health, for better or worse...The barracks door swung open; two enlisted men came out, laughing until they spotted my insignia.

  Regardless of the Church’s toleration of divorce, I still knew right from wrong; Father had taught me well. I couldn’t leave Annie without again betraying an oath. Yet, why did that matter, now that I was damned?

  I cursed long and fluently. Then I went to my room, grabbed my duffel, got in my car, drove home.

  She sat in the kitchen, sitting over a cup of tea. Her eyes raised slowly, hope dawning. “Nicky?”

  My voice was like gritty sandpaper. “I won’t divorce you. I swore to stay until death, and I’ll fulfill my oath. You may divorce me, if you wish. I won’t stop you.”

  “That’s not what I wan’.”

  “Then we’ll live together. What happened in the bedroom, we will not speak of. Not ever. That’s all I have to say.” I turned to put my duffel back in the bedroom.

  “That’s not all you swore.” Tremulously she came to her feet. I stared at her. “Love, honor, and protect. You promised that part too.”

  The words caught in my throat. “I don’t love you now. I—can’t help that.”

  Her eyes brimmed. “What’s marriage for?”

  “I swore to it.” Would that I hadn’t.

  “About Eddie—”

  “Don’t speak of him. I warn you.”

  “Will we sleep together? Share a bed? Talk?”

  I sat heavily. “I don’t know. It’s all too much.”

  “You can’t live here, hating me.”

  I rested my head on the table. “I don’t hate you.” Lord God, burn what I saw from my memory. Let me take Alexi’s place, blessed with his forgetfulness. “Alexi has amnesia,” I said. “He doesn’t know me.”

  “Oh, Nicky.”

  I tried to speak, failed.

  Her hand went to my neck, stroked me. “Nicky.”

  Jezebel, don’t touch my flesh!

  She gathered my head into her arms. Despite my resolve,
I clung to her, buried my head in her soft breasts, clutched her as to a liferaft while my shoulders heaved with sobs.

  Part 2

  May, in the year of our Lord 2200

  7

  MY OUTBURST RESOLVED NOTHING; after an hour I pulled myself together and went about my business. I could not put aside Annie’s unfaithfulness even if I was grateful for her comfort. I realized I should have stayed in barracks; life in our apartment would be unbearably tense.

  I roomed alone in the tiny spare bedroom, and I slept badly.

  Daily, I visited Alexi. Sometimes Annie came along. Though Alexi seemed to like her, he had no memory of her.

  A few days after the attack on our fleet, Admiral De Marnay returned to Admiralty House; we held our conference at last. He heard my account of the planters’ grievances without interruption.

  “And your conclusion?” He leaned back in his chair.

  I pondered. “The planters’ anger is one issue. The other is how the war effort has been handled.”

  “I told you to deal with the planters, not the war.” His fingers drummed the desk irritably.

  “Yes, sir. But I don’t know whether their complaints are valid. If they are, and we seem to be ignoring them...”

  “With any military buildup there’s inefficiency, you know that.” He glowered. “Especially when they insist on running the show from home, and informing me by holovid chip.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Don’t you think I know it’s madness to put our major base in the Venturas?” His fist rattled the table.

  “Yes, sir. The complaints aren’t mine.”

  After a moment the Admiral’s glare faded. “I know.” He sighed. We waited through the roar of a departing shuttle. “I could appoint you inspector-general,” he mused.

  “What?” I blushed. “Sorry, sir. There’s no such post as inspector-general.”

  “Unless I create one.” He tapped the papers on his desk. “Son, we’ve lost four ships. The enemy may strike again at any moment. The last thing we need is discontent on the home front; we have to keep the planters happy.”