Again his fingers drummed. “Laura Triforth is right: without their help we’d never have been able to activate the Venturas Base, and we may need their aid again. Tell them you’re appointed to check into their complaints so we can put them right.”
“What authority would I have?”
“Authority to report to me. Don’t scowl; it’s a public relations title. If I decide anything needs doing, we’ll take care of it.”
I shook my head. “Those joeys trust me. Some are my friends. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not, to mollify them.”
De Marnay leaned forward, his warmth vanished. “They told me you had an insubordinate streak.”
I was too tired to be diplomatic. “Yes, sir, I think I do. I’m sorry about it.”
For the first time a hint of amusement flickered at his mouth. “Well, we understand each other. Take the job, and keep the planters off my back.”
I stared at the floor, unready for the sudden crisis. After a time I said, “I’d rather resign, if you’ll allow me.”
“Resign what? Your liaison post?”
“No, sir. My commission.” I met his eye.
He growled, “Don’t threaten me; I’ll take you up on it.”
I took a deep breath. “Very well, sir.”
He studied me intently, then sighed. “A lot that would do for morale. All right, Seafort, you’ve been demanding a real job, and I haven’t obliged. Have it your way. I’ll appoint you inspector-general. You have authority to inspect all installations and remedy any inefficiency or incompetence you find, subject to my veto. Your theater is the Venturas Base, our accommodations and arrangements in Centraltown, and Orbit Station. The fleet is off-limits; that’s my bailiwick.” He hesitated. “Are you aware I’m making you one of the most powerful men on the planet?”
“I’d prefer a ship.”
“I told you, you’ll have one. You still have two months of shore duty.”
I capitulated. “Very well, sir. Where should I start?”
He stood. “How in hell would I know? That’s your worry.” He indicated the door. “My waiting room is packed. I need to get on with my appointments.”
I said, “Pardon, sir, but why do you call me insubordinate, then hand me such power?”
“I have to work with the material at hand, Seafort. My other Captains are all shipboard, and I suppose the job really needs doing if the plantation zone is in such turmoil. Put in for a lieutenant or two as staff. And middies, if you want them.” He sighed, then stuck out his hand. “Good luck.”
I smiled, amazed at his largesse. “Thank you, sir.”
In the outer office I asked the ubiquitous Lieutenant Eiferts where to apply for personnel. He directed me upstairs.
The lieutenant in BuPers didn’t bother to rise from his console. “Captain, you already have an enlisted man and a lieutenant.”
“Lieutenant Tamarov is on sicklist. The enlisted man is...not available.”
“Unfortunately, sir, the Admiral gave your liaison duty low priority. There’s no way I can augment your staff. Sorry.” With a perfunctory nod, he turned to his files.
I glowered. If he refused to give me staff I’d have to go over his head, and De Marnay would know I couldn’t even put together a work detail. “I see.”
His fingers tapped at the keyboard. After a time he looked up. “Is there anything else, Captain?”
“Yes. I’d like a lieutenant—no, make that two—assigned to my department forthwith.”
“I’ve already told you why—”
“Stand at attention.”
He complied, though slowly. “I’m on Admiral De Marnay’s personal staff, sir. I’m not subject to outside orders.”
“Be silent until I tell you to speak.”
His position was awkward. As he’d said, he was on De Marnay’s personal staff. Yet I was a Captain and he a mere lieutenant. And a Captain is obeyed, always.
I sat, leafing through a holozine. Several minutes passed, during which the lieutenant became more and more uneasy. I could see him readying himself to object to my high-handedness.
I asked abruptly, “Have you ever been to Miningcamp, Lieutenant?”
He looked confused. “No, sir.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Of course.”
“Think you’ll like it there?”
He said cautiously, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
“U.N.A.F. runs the miners’ station, you know, not the Navy. They don’t have much in the way of amenities. The Station is more pleasant than the asteroid, though. At least Miningcamp Station is aired.”
I browsed through the holozine. A glance told me I had his full attention. “Unless I get my staff in the next two minutes, you’ll find yourself the new Naval liaison to Miningcamp, and you’ll spend years wondering how you were transferred and shipped off-planet on less than an hour’s notice.” I switched off my holozine. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Quite, sir.” He was sweating. “If I may, sir? I think I can make some changes.” I nodded. With relief he dropped into his seat. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “I’ll post the assignments immediately, sir. Have you any specific personnel in mind?”
I remembered the time I’d requisitioned staff at Hope Nation, years ago. “No behavioral problems. Top-rated fitness reports only.”
“Aye aye, sir. They’ll report to you tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”
“It will do.”
“Shall I put your Mr. Tamarov on disability leave?” On general disability, Alexi would languish in the hospital, among uncaring strangers.
“No, leave him with me.” Perhaps I could find a way to keep him busy. Some way to summon his memories.
I stood, strode to the door. “One more thing.”
“Yes, sir?” The lieutenant was all ears.
“The enlisted man on my staff, Eddie Boss. He’s in barracks now. Transfer him to the first ship going outsystem.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He saluted as I left.
On my way to the car, I tried to imagine Admiral De Marnay’s response had the BuPers officer complained I was reassigning him to Miningcamp. Foolish joey, the lieutenant. After all, it was he who posted the assignments.
While waiting in my apartment for my two new staffers I reviewed my notes. True to his word, Admiral De Marnay had cut orders authorizing me to “investigate and correct abuses and inefficiency of whatever nature with respect to the state of readiness of U.N. Forces in the Hope Nation theater.” With surprise, I realized that my writ ran to U.N. Armed Forces as well as Navy; De Marnay was in charge of the whole show and he’d chosen to give me a free hand.
My first need was office space. I couldn’t very well be inspector-general from my living room.
I paced. I had promised Alexi I’d visit at noon. Annie, anxious to please, had left the apartment for the morning so I’d be free to meet with my lieutenants.
Should I start with the Venturas? A quick trip would give me a picture of what I faced. Hopefully, Laura Triforth had exaggerated the problems there. In any event, I’d like to glimpse the Venturas once more, though Amanda was long dead and Derek was light-years distant.
The doorbell chimed. I answered it, and recoiled.
“Lieutenant Tolliver reporting for duty, sir.” He saluted.
“I know your name,” I snarled. “Did you request this posting?” Disgusted, I turned away.
He followed me inside. “No, sir. Orders came in transferring me off Portia. That’s all I know.”
Was the BuPers lieutenant exacting his revenge? No, he had no way to know of my resentment of Tolliver.
“I’ll get someone else,” I muttered. “This must be as awkward for you as for me.”
He looked surprised. “Awkward, sir? Why?”
“Don’t tell me you can’t remember.”
“When we were cadets, sir?”
I nodded.
“I was a class ahead of you.”
&
nbsp; “Yes.” You made life so much more miserable than need be.
“I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable with me, sir. I certainly have no objection to working with you.”
I peered suspiciously. Apparently he meant it. “You don’t recall Academy?”
He stared, uncomprehending. “The hazing, you mean?” He shrugged. “Part of the drill, as far as I was concerned.”
“I hated you.” And still do.
He shrugged again. “I’m sorry, sir. I was hazed too, my first year.”
My angry reply was forestalled by the chime. Lieutenant Eiferts. I let him in. “A message from the Admiral?”
“No, sir. I’ve been assigned to your operation.”
“What?”
“I’m to join your staff.”
“But you work directly for the Admiral.”
“I did until today.”
I hadn’t known De Marnay was so devious. Whom could he trust to keep an eye on me, if not his personal aide?
“I see. I suppose if I asked for another lieutenant, they’d all be unavailable?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Perhaps, sir. I’m not in BuPers.”
I could work with him, even if he was a spy for the Admiral, but I had to know. “Mr. Tolliver, outside.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Tolliver’s obedience was automatic; he’d just come from a ship. Eiferts, on the other hand, had served in a soft shoreside berth. We would see.
“Well now.” I paced, as if on a bridge. “Who engineered this, you or the Admiral?”
“Engineered what, sir?” Eiferts was the soul of innocence.
I said nothing. After a time, he shifted uncomfortably. I let the silence drag on.
“I’m to help however you see fit,” he ventured.
“To whom is your loyalty, Lieutenant? Me or the Admiral?”
He looked puzzled. “Is there a conflict, sir?” Good question. What did I have to hide?
I smiled grimly. “Will you report to him?”
“I presume you’ll expect me to do your staff work, sir. That would include processing your reports.”
I roared, “Tell the truth, you insolent sea lawyer! All of it! At once!”
He flushed. “Yes, sir!” He thrust out a palm, as if to ward off my fury. “I’m to be of whatever assistance I can, sir. I’m also to report to the Admiral at my own discretion. Anything I think he should know.”
I resumed my pacing. “Were your orders to report to him in secret, Lieutenant?”
He hesitated. “Not specifically, sir. I think that was understood.”
“Very well. Report to the Admiral as ordered, and inform me each time you report to him. Acknowledge.”
“Aye aye, sir. I will inform you each time I report to Admiral De Marnay. Orders received and understood, sir.” His forehead glistened.
“Very well, then. Welcome to my staff, Lieutenant Eiferts.”
“Thank you, sir.” He smiled weakly.
“I’m going to the hospital to visit Mr. Tamarov. You know the ropes; how long will it take to get office space?”
“Do you want rooms in Admiralty House, sir?”
“Um, no. Downtown, I should think.”
“Perhaps near Naval barracks...I could make a couple of calls, sir.” He brightened at the thought of dealing with matters he understood.
“Very well. In the morning we leave for the Venturas. I want office space by the time we’re home.” I ushered him out.
Tolliver, hands clasped behind his back, was examining the flowers along the walk. I growled to him. “We’ll need a couple of holovids, a day’s rations, and a heli for the Venturas in the morning. See to it.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Tolliver cleared his throat. “Does that mean I’m to stay on your staff, sir?”
“It means you have your orders.” I strode away. Driving to Centraltown Hospital I sighed with exasperation. I’d thoroughly alienated both my new staffers, to say nothing of the BuPers lieutenant at Admiralty House. A fine start.
“What are the Venturas?” Alexi frowned.
“The mountain range of Western Continent,” I repeated patiently. Awesome peaks they were, which towered over vast tracts of unspoiled wilderness.
“And we—your Navy—have a base there?”
“Yes, Alexi.”
“Am I required to go?”
“No.”
“Then I’d rather not.” He stared down at the manicured lawn below his window.
“Very well.” I tried not to feel hurt. “I’ll see you when I’m back.”
“If you wish.”
As I headed for the door he blurted, “What will they do with me?”
“You’re on sick leave until you get well.”
“The doctors say I may never get my memory back...if I don’t, am I still in the Navy? Do I have to follow orders?”
“You haven’t been discharged, Alexi. But if you don’t recover, I’m sure they’ll allow you a medical release.”
“And then?” He turned, with a bitter smile. “I have nowhere to go and haven’t the faintest idea what I should do.”
It was as close to an appeal as I’d heard. “I’ll look after you, Alexi.”
He turned back to the window. “I don’t want to be looked after.”
“I’m sorry.” I thought to touch his shoulder, refrained. “Good-bye, then.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Seafort.” He hesitated. “Am I supposed to call you ‘sir’?”
“Of course. But I won’t hold you to it until you remember why.”
“Thank you.” When I left he was staring out the window.
8
THE FLIGHT WEST TO the Venturas was as I remembered it: uneventful hours droning over the shallows of Farreach Ocean. Lush submarine vegetation sent tentacles groping for the surface, where they contested for sunlight with water lilies that rose and fell gently with the swells. Hope Nation had no animal life, so the ocean was a vast soup of competing herbage.
I piloted the military machine with relaxed enjoyment. One hand on the collective, the other on the cyclic, the puter switched to passive mode, I had ample time to recall which switches operated the various missiles and antimissile gear with which the heli could be armed. About two hours from Western Continent our radar homed on the Venturas Base beacon. I switched on the autopilot and leaned back, glad of the rest. I’d been flying for six hours.
In the rear seat, Tolliver dozed. Next to me, Lieutenant Eiferts studied his holovid. “Sir?”
“What?”
“I’ve been looking over the material and supplies we poured into that base, sir. In theory the plan made sense, but I don’t think it worked out too well.”
“Pity you weren’t in charge of strategic planning,” I said acidly. He fell silent, until I relented. “I gather the idea was to be able to defend both hemispheres.”
“When Orbit Station is over Eastern Continent, Western Continent has a clear shot at any invaders above it. But that meant we had to split our resources. We should have put the base where we could support it.”
“That’s what we’re here to learn,” I reminded him.
“Anyway, ships make better laser platforms than land installations.”
“But ships are so vulnerable to attack. Look how many we’ve lost.” My Challenger, among them. “And fish don’t operate groundside.”
“Unless it was they who brought the Hope Nation virus.”
“They probably did.” I shivered, despite the afternoon warmth. “There was a fellow, years ago, who claimed he saw them spraying.”
“Captain Grone.”
I looked up in surprise. “You knew about him?”
He nodded. “Used to live near the Great Falls area.”
“What happened to him?”
“Nobody knows, sir.”
Poor, demented Captain Grone. When I’d met him, his wife Janna was due to have a child. I wondered if the baby had survived. I thought of Nate, who would be three now. My throat tightened.
Lieutenant Eiferts reached for the caller. “Ventura, this is Naval heli two four nine Alpha, ETA your base forty minutes.”
“We don’t show a flight plan filed, two four nine Alpha. Who are you?”
“Captain Nicholas Seafort and staff. We’re here to insp—”
I switched off the caller.
“Sir?” Eiferts gaped.
“Aboard ship my lieutenants knew their place,” I growled. I pried the caller from his hand, keyed it on. “Ventura Base, this is Captain Seafort, U.N.N.S. We’re on a sightseeing trip through the Venturas.”
“Unauthorized visitors aren’t allowed, sir.”
I recalled our carefree flight to the falls, Derek, Amanda, and I. No flight plan, no authorizations.
The voice hesitated. “You’re, uh, Captain Seafort? The Captain Seafort?”
“Yes.” Again, my cursed notoriety.
“I’m sure the General—I’ll have to confirm, sir, but I’m certain it will be all right. Do you have our beacon?”
“Affirmative.”
“Please stay on your present course. I’ll be back to you.” The line went dead.
Eiferts looked abashed. “Sorry, sir. I thought it was customary to check in with Base Command.”
I’d learn more from an unannounced trip, even if it meant we’d travel under false colors. But still...” I sighed. “I’m on edge, Mr. Eiferts. Pardon me.”
He looked startled. Captains did not apologize to lieutenants, even when wrong. “Yes, sir, of course. Sorry I interfered.”
We flew in silence, a knot forming in my stomach. The speaker crackled. “Captain Seafort, General Khartouf welcomes you to Venturas Base. Would you join him this evening for dinner?”
I keyed the caller. “I’d be happy to accept.” Eiferts shot me a glance, but was silent.
“Very well, sir, we’ll expect you.”
We were coming over the coastline. Great hills swept down from the highlands to plunge into the sea. Behind them the sun was drifting toward the horizon.
“Wake Tolliver.”
“I’m up, sir.” He leaned forward from the rear seat.
“Listen, both of you. When we land I’ll go with the top brass. You two get a look around. We’ll meet later and compare notes.”
Prisoner's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 3) Page 11