“No. You made your choice.” His eyes burned like lasers. “And I’ve made mine.” He strode away.
I walked the corridor until I was composed enough to face Tolliver and the boy. At length I took a deep breath, went back into the mess. Vax Holser was nowhere in sight.
“Tolliver, book us seats on the next shuttle groundside.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He spotted a caller, went to it. I sat heavily at the table, across from Jerence.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Seafort?”
“Yes.”
“Can I help?”
I was enraged at his sarcasm, until I realized he meant it. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“What happened?”
“An old friend I betrayed. He...told me what he thinks of me.”
“You didn’t betray him.”
I smiled without mirth. “How would you know?”
“I’ve seen you with Pa and I’ve heard Uncle Emmett. I know.”
I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
“There’s always goofjuice.” His tone was bitter.
I raised my gaze from the table. “Why do you use it, Jerence?”
“What else is there for me on a frazzing plantation? The world is different when you’re juiced. You’d have to try it to understand.”
I didn’t tell him that I had, once. On Lunapolis, many leaves ago, as a green and stupid midshipman. I never touched the juice again. Not because I didn’t like how it made me feel, but because I knew that given another taste of euphoria I might never give it up.
He stared at his empty plate. “Anyway, it’s better than having to face farming all my life.”
I smiled despite myself. “That’s not written in stone, Jerence.”
“There’s Pa.” He looked sullen. “I’m firstborn, so Branstead Plantation goes to me. I’ve told him I don’t want it, but he won’t listen. I don’t think he even hears.”
“A shuttle leaves in about an hour, sir.” Tolliver.
“Very well.” I stood. “We might as well head toward the bay.”
We left the mess and wandered the endless corridors. To pass the time I showed Jerence the comm room. Some of the techs I’d met previously were on duty. The boy perused the rows of consoles, most of them silent now. After a while we left for the shuttle bay.
I would be glad to depart the Station, happier never to return.
We passed the cutoff for U.N.A.F. Command. I slowed, hesitated. “In here, first.”
“The shuttle is past—”
“I know where the shuttle bay is.” I stalked to the General’s office, Tolliver and Jerence hurrying to keep up. I slapped open the hatch.
The desk sergeant eyed me uncertainly. “General Tho’s in conference, sir.”
“Get him out.”
“What?”
“You heard me!”
A moment later General Duc Twan Tho stood in his outer office, hands on hips. His stare was icy. “Well?”
“This is private, sir.”
He pursed his lips. “Very well. In my office.” He turned on his heel.
I thought it better not to sit. “I’m leaving for Centraltown.”
“So I understand.”
“I don’t expect to be back.”
“Very well.”
“We’ve made a few recommendations about cargo storage. Mr. Tolliver will prepare a memo to your quartermaster.”
“Very well.”
I turned to leave. “Another matter. You needn’t update your delivery paperwork so often; it’s inefficient.” His eyes bored into me. Reddening, I mumbled, “I’ll write you a memo when I have the chance.” I fled.
“Thank you.” His soft voice pursued me into the corridor. “Thank you, Mr. Seafort.”
Harmon Branstead struggled with his disapproval. “I wouldn’t have chosen to reward him with a tour of Orbit Station.”
My cold had settled into my chest. “I’m sorry I interfered, Mr. Branstead.”
“No, I’m glad you caught him. I already told you that.” He stared at the heli parked on the tarmac, in which Jerence waited, slumped in the passenger seat. He sighed. “Forgive my manners. This whole business—I don’t know what to do.”
“I understand.”
He brooded, then snapped his fingers. “By the way, Emmett says one of our hands saw Frederick Mantiet in Centraltown.”
My fist clenched. “Where?”
“Downtown, near the sailors’ district.”
“Did you alert the authorities?”
“Governor Saskrit? On Hope Nation, we handle these affairs ourselves. Laura Triforth and I took a few men and searched. We couldn’t find him.”
“I see.”
He gestured to the cargo stacked at the far end of the runway. “What did you learn about that situation?”
“Orbit Station downloads cargo as fast as it can. They have little contact with the quartermaster groundside. Loads end up here whether they’re needed or not.”
“As Laura said, then.”
“Yes.”
“What will you do about it?”
I said stiffly, “We’re working on it.” My glance flickered to the heli. “What about Jerence?”
Harmon shook his head in exasperation. “I’ve no idea what to try next. Between the goofjuice and his nonsense about ceding the plantation to his younger brother...”
“He’s a bright little joey.” If it weren’t for the goofjuice, a tour in the Navy might do him wonders.
“I’m considering an abuse program at the hospital. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that.”
“It’ll come to worse if the authorities catch him first.” Society wasn’t lenient with substance violators, and hadn’t been since the end of the Rebellious Ages. Rightly, the law made no distinctions for age; even at thirteen Jerence could land in a penal colony for possession of the contraband drug.
After Branstead’s heli receded into the late-afternoon sun I checked in at Admiralty House to drop off my reports. Then I dismissed Tolliver and headed home.
Annie was waiting in the living room, dressed, her coat across her lap. Wearily I stripped off my jacket. “Going out?”
“I don’t know.” I looked at her, my eyebrow raised. “It depends. Nicky, we have to talk.”
“About what?”
“What happened with—about me and Eddie.”
“We’ve spoken about it.” I wanted only to lie down.
“No, we haven’t.” Her vehemence surprised me, yet seemed oddly familiar. I realized it reminded me of Amanda.
“Talk, then.” I sat.
“Nick, I did a wrong thing. I know I did, and I can’t take it back. You don’ understand tribe, an’ I hurt you.” She paused, marshaling her diction. “But we’re married. You say it’s for the rest of our lives. I want you to care for me, to love me. If not—” She mumbled something into her hands.
“I didn’t hear the last.” My voice was wooden.
“I said if you can’t, I’ll move out.”
“Where would you go?”
She shook her head. “I’d find someplace. Or live on the streets, if it came to that. I’m a trannie, remember?”
“Not anymore.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “What are we to do, Nicky?”
“I don’t know.” Images overlapped on the canvas of my mind: Annie sitting in my cabin, struggling to become more than she was. Annie crying in my arms. The pair of us coupling with unending passion, before she sent me back to the hospital for my interview with Dr. Tendres. Annie clutching the broad white back of Eddie Boss.
We sat miserably in the darkening room. At length she stirred. “I’ll be leavin’, den,” she said with forlorn dignity. “My things be packed.”
I said hoarsely, “Don’t.” I didn’t know why.
Her mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Why, you gonna say you lovin’ me?”
I thought a long time. “I don’t know.”
“I be leavin’,” she repe
ated.
There was an unbearable tightness in my chest. “You stay. Let me go away for a while, to think things through.”
That brought a flash of anger. “An’ how’ long you hav’n me wait?”
“As long as you want to.” I forced myself to meet her eye. “I’m unfair to you, I know. But I need time.”
She nodded and began to weep. I yearned to go to her, hold her. Images of Eddie Boss came unbidden, and I did not.
I crossed to the bedroom, threw clothes into my duffel. “I’ll be in Naval barracks. We’ll talk in a few days. All right?” She nodded again. I left my home.
Tolliver showed no reaction when I told him I’d moved. That was understandable; a Captain’s personal life was none of a lieutenant’s business, and I’d already made my animosity to him clear. I thought again of having him transferred. Though I abhorred his company, I took no action. Perhaps I deserved him.
When I was leaving to visit Alexi, Tolliver asked to come along.
We found Alexi scrolling through a holo in the patients’ lounge. I told him about our trip.
“Orbit Station? Have I been there?”
“Portia docked at the Station when she came in.”
“I wouldn’t remember.” He sounded especially bitter.
“All incoming ships moor at the Station, Mr. Tamarov.” Tolliver was trying to be helpful. I shot him a look of annoyance, but he appeared not to notice.
Alexi got up to stare out the window. “What do you do next?” he asked.
“I’m leaving this afternoon to see Zack Hopewell and the planters.” I hesitated. “I wish I could bring them better news. We can clean up the supply mess, but I can’t do a thing about shipping rates, or the influx of sailors and soldiers in Centraltown, or the structure of their government.”
Alexi’s gaze was fixed on the walkway below. “While you were gone I spent a whole evening sitting in the chair you’re in now, just trying to remember.”
I got up, went to stand at his side. “And?”
“Nothing.” He turned, and his smile was bitter. “I tried to remember you, before I was injured. I can recall your sitting here, that first visit, telling me things you expected me to know. But nothing before.”
“I’m sorry.”
He rounded on me. “You’re always sorry, but you don’t have to live with it!”
“I’m sor—” I floundered. “Alexi, I don’t know what to say.”
“Then say nothing! Save your pity for someone else!”
Wounded, I said stiffly, “I wish I could give what you want.” From the corner of my eye I saw Tolliver’s disapproval, whether of Alexi’s behavior or mine I couldn’t tell.
“How can you—Christ, I’m doing it again!” Dejected, Alexi slumped on his bed. “Forgive me.”
“Alexi, staying in the hospital does you no good.”
“What else is there?”
“You can come with me. You were part of my staff. I want you back.”
“On active duty?”
I smiled, shaking my head. Even I couldn’t arrange that. “On therapeutic leave.”
Tolliver inquired, “What’s that, sir?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll pull strings to make it happen. Alexi, would you like to go to the plantation zone with us?”
His eyes were eager. “Very much.”
“Then you shall.”
I checked Alexi out of the hospital and drove to the spaceport, where Tolliver had secured a heli. During our preparations Alexi stayed pathetically close to my side, though he looked just like the confident young lieutenant with whom I’d sailed on Portia. I wished I could allay his fears; all I could do was squeeze his arm in reassurance. We boarded the heli.
“You know how to fly, Mr. Seafort?”
“Yes, Mr. Tamarov. I learned at Academy.”
“Did I?”
“As I recall, you were heli-rated. It’s been some time since I saw your personnel file.”
Alexi lapsed into moody silence. I finished my safety check and we lifted off toward the plantation zone. The heli’s puter displayed our flight plan. Our ETA was approximately an hour and a half. Alexi craned to see the terrain below. After a time he asked, “Do you like Hope Nation, Mr. Seafort?”
I pondered, unsure of the truth. At length I said, “I’ve spent most of my career traveling to or from Hope Nation.”
“But do you like it?”
I grimaced.
“Leave the Captain be.” Tolliver.
“No, I don’t mind. Hope Nation has a lot of memories. Some are painful.”
Alexi said only, “It’s hard to imagine memories being painful.”
“They can be.” The day I’d learned that Captain Forbee had no Captain to replace me, which meant I’d command Hibernia for another cruise. The evening I’d gone to Amanda’s house to say good-bye, but instead persuaded her to join my vacation to the unspoiled Venturas.
“Amanda lived here, Alexi.” Before she’d returned to home system with me, to sail to her death on Portia. It was she who’d turned Alexi from his bitter course of vengeance against Philip Tyre.
Alexi asked, “Who was Amanda?”
I said shortly, “My wife.” The mother of my only son. Now she drifted with him in the endless gulf of interstellar space.
“You loved her a great deal.”
“You remember?” I asked hopefully.
“It’s in your face,” he said.
I cast about for another topic. “Do you remember Hauler’s Rest?”
“No. Should I?”
“Last month we thought of stopping there, on our trip to Branstead Plantation. You and I and...” I trailed off, wishing I hadn’t summoned memories of Eddie.
“And Mr. Boss?”
“You remember him?”
“He was in my room when I woke.” Alexi studied me. “You were friends?”
“I don’t care to speak of him.” I concentrated on navigation until I could be sure of calm.
“What is Hauler’s Rest?” Alexi.
“A sort of inn, the only one on Plantation Road. I’ve eaten there more than once.”
“On your first cruise?”
“Yes.” With Derek Carr. More memories stabbed. Innocent days: Derek forced to masquerade as my retarded cousin so he could safely visit Carr Plantation; he retaliated by calling me “Nicky” every chance he got. If only I could be that youngster again, and blot out what had come after.
“Would you like to lunch there?” I asked.
“Sure.” His face fell. “I have no money, Mr. Seafort.”
“Haven’t you been drawing your pay?”
“I couldn’t even tell you how much I’m paid, much less how to get it.” He grimaced. “What should I do?”
“I’ll sign for lunch.” I checked the maps and turned to a new heading. “Tolliver, make a note to retrieve Mr. Tamarov’s back wages when we get home.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
I homed in on the Hauler’s Rest transponder and brought us down at the edge of the strip bulldozed through the lush vegetation. Half a dozen cargo haulers were scattered about.
Inside, we ordered from the ample menu. I explained that Hauler’s Rest was all but self-sufficient; it grew its own meat and vegetables and was powered by an atomic pile buried in the back lot.
“Not an automated fusion reactor, like Orbit Station’s?”
I smiled with surprise and pleasure. “How did you remember, Alexi?”
“I don’t know.” He concentrated. “I learned it somewhere; I’ve no idea where.”
“Second year physics at Academy,” said Tolliver impatiently.
Alexi’s brow furrowed. “These automated fission piles are safe, but the fusion reactors our ships use are even safer.”
“That’s right,” I said. “But even the fission reactors can’t be made to malfunction without a series of deliberate missteps. They have intricate safeguards.”
Alexi looked around. “If this pile ever did blow, it
would make quite a hole in the ground.”
“Vaporize everything for about a mile,” Tolliver agreed with relish. “But that’s nothing to the mess you’d make if you made a fusion engine blow. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere near.”
“Change the subject, please.”
“Why?” Alexi.
We were skirting dangerous ground; if someone overheard us we might even be subject to a capital charge. U.N. Security Council Resolution 8645, passed back in 2037, had provided...I closed my eyes and concentrated.
“The threat of nuclear annihilation having for generations terrorized mankind, it is enacted that use, attempted use, conspiracy to use, proposal to use, or discussion of use, by any persons in any forum and for whatever purpose, of nuclear energy for the purpose of destruction of land, goods, or persons, shall be punishable by death and by no lesser sentence, and that the sentence of death may not be suspended or mitigated by any court, tribunal, or official.” They’d made us memorize it, as cadets, and no other discussion of the topic was permitted.
“You can’t even discuss it?”
“No!”
Our food arrived and we fell to. Between mouthfuls Tolliver said soberly, “Before I left home system, there was talk in the Assembly of amending the resolution.”
“It’ll never happen.”
“God forbid they change it. But—”
“Even those dolts in the Rotunda wouldn’t be so stupid! Two nuke wars were enough; the people wouldn’t risk another, even for a minute. Don’t even speak of such abominations!” I stabbed savagely at my meat.
Alexi gestured across the room. “Are all those joeys haulers? I didn’t see that many cargo vehicles in the lot.”
I tried to take the edge from my voice. “Some must be laborers.” I regarded the tables crowded with rough-looking workers. “Harvest is near.”
“Aren’t the plantations largely automated?” asked Tolliver.
“They are, but they’re so huge it takes a lot of men to run the machinery.” Our uniforms seemed to be attracting the haulers’ attention. One burly fellow stared at us for a while, then got up and left the hall.
The meal was huge, and though I still wasn’t recovered from my cold I took advantage of a hearty appetite. It was nearly an hour before we crossed the lot to our heli. I slipped behind the controls; Alexi got in back. Tolliver, moody, stared out the window from the seat next to mine. I lifted off and headed west. As I pulled back on the collective and gave her more throttle, Hauler’s Rest shrank below.
Prisoner's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 3) Page 16