Prisoner's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 3)

by David Feintuch

  A moment later footsteps approached; the door opened. Harmon nodded to the guards, turned to me with contempt. “I misjudged you, Seafort. You’re getting no more than you deserved.”

  He might at least have warned me. “Harmon, you’re a pompous fool. You always were.” It was the best I could do on short notice.

  He snapped to the guard, “Get me out.”

  Laura Triforth appeared at the end of the hall. “Enjoy your visit, Harmon?”

  “He’s your responsibility.” Branstead stalked down the corridor. “I’ll have no more to do with him.”

  Ms. Triforth raised an eyebrow. “Seafort, you seem to have irritated Harmon.”

  “A pity. He deserves you.”

  “I’ll take you back to your colleagues.” She beckoned me to follow her.

  “Why are you holding us?”

  “You’re in protective custody, for your own safety. After all, someone’s twice tried to kill you.”

  “Let my wife go.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “We don’t need trannies roaming Centraltown.”

  “May God damn you to His deepest hell!”

  “How diplomatic.” She sighed, ran fingers through her hair. “Has it occurred to you I’ve a lot on my mind at the moment? A government to organize? A planet to run?”

  “Let us go. We won’t bother you.”

  “All in good time.” Laura’s men opened our door. “Oh, by the way...” She held my vapormask. “You left this in the meeting hall.” I snatched it from her hand, fuming.

  As they thrust me into our cell Tolliver jumped to his feet. “Where did they take you, sir?”

  “I had a visitor. Leave it.”

  “What did Triforth say to you?”

  “Not much.”

  From his corner, Mantiet sighed. “There’s a virtue in helplessness, Captain. One has no decisions to make.”

  “We’re never helpless.”

  “What would you propose we do?”

  I sat on my cot. “Wait.” It was all I could think of.

  Bezrel approached timidly. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Sir, I’m sorry I acted like a baby this morning.” I looked up with alarm; was he about to start bawling again? No, it seemed not.

  I cleared my throat. “We’re all afraid,” I said gruffly.

  “But you know better than to show it.”

  “It’s all right.” I wanted to be rid of him. Ashamed, I patted my mattress. “Sit.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Automatically he straightened his tie.

  I smiled. “I never had a chance to review your file, Mr. Bezrel. Tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m thirteen, sir. I came out on Vestra with Admiral De Marnay; I started as ship’s boy.”

  “How did you get to be a middy?”

  “Admiral De Marnay promoted me. They did it that way so I wouldn’t have to go to Academy first. My father wanted me to sail with the Admiral because they know each other.”

  So Admiral De Marnay had skirted regs for an old friend. I frowned and changed the subject.

  “Who is your father?”

  “Captain Bezrel, sir. Retired now, but he had U.N.S. Constantinople.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Crete, sir.” He hesitated. “It’s an island that used to be part of Greece.”

  “I know where Crete is,” I growled. Father had instilled Terran geography in me with dogged determination.

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

  Sorry. Always apologizing. I waited for the sniffles.

  “Am I dismissed, sir?”

  I took pity on him. “Yes. I commend you on your manner, Mr. Bezrel. Much improved.”

  His grateful smile pierced me. “Thank you, sir.” He retreated to his cot.

  “They’ve brought us breakfast, Nicky.”

  I opened my eyes. “Thanks, hon.”

  To my delight, Annie grinned. “You all right?”

  “Of course.” I sat up, shivering.

  I gnawed at the bread, sipped at lukewarm coffee. After ward I went back to my bed and dozed.

  About noon I awoke. With an effort I sat. “Mr. Bezrel, give me the mask.”

  “I’ll get it.” Alexi. He helped me slip it on. “How do you feel?”

  “Well enough.” I took a deep breath through the mask and wrinkled my nose. The air seemed stale.

  Ever so slowly, the day passed. Then a long night, during which I stirred restlessly, coughing. The vapormeds didn’t seem to help.

  When the guards brought our morning meal I demanded to see Ms. Triforth; they didn’t even bother to answer. I repeated my demand at dinner.

  Late that evening she appeared, waking me from restless and feverish sleep. “You rang?” Her tone was sardonic.

  I shivered, drawing my jacket closer. “You’ve made your revolution. Why hold us?”

  “After your impassioned speech, I decided I don’t want a horde of White Russians storming through the countryside.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I thought you knew your history. Never mind.”

  “Let us go.”

  “In time.” She looked at me with concern. “Are you well?”

  Mantiet said quietly, “Don’t toy with us, Laura. Do what you’re going to do.”

  “Be patient, Frederick. You’ll both be freed soon.”

  “What might I look forward to? Shot trying to escape?” Mantiet seemed quite calm.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not my prisoner. I haven’t seen you since the night we proclaimed the Republic.” She turned on her heel and left.

  “We can’t undo her treason,” I said petulantly. “Why must she hold us?”

  “She enjoys seeing us helpless.” Tolliver.

  Mantiet regarded me with an odd look, lapsed into silence. After several minutes he stirred. “Alexi, Mr. Tolliver, take Bezrel and Mrs. Seafort into the cubicle, please. I want to speak to your Captain alone.”

  Tolliver said bluntly, “No. I don’t trust you.”

  I snapped, “Don’t be silly. We’ve been alone before.” Reluctantly Tolliver herded the others to the enclosed cubicle.

  Mantiet took me to the far end of the room and spoke softly. “How do you feel?”

  “Well enough.” I coughed. “Under the circumstances.” I was tired and wanted to lie down. I waited, but Mantiet said no more. “Frederick, if you’ve something to say, tell me!”

  “Your face is flushed. You’ve been coughing.”

  “We’ve been locked in here with bad food, no air...”

  “True, but you’re much worse since yesterday.”

  I sank into a chair. “Perhaps. I’ve started the vapormeds again.”

  “Precisely. You started them yesterday.”

  I gaped. “Are you saying...Laura tampered with my meds?”

  “Why else would she take your vapormask?”

  “She returned it when I asked. If she wanted me dead, she’d just shoot me.”

  “Don’t you—”

  “Enough nonsense.” I went back to my corner. As I sat, the handle of the razor pressed into my side.

  Mantiet mustn’t know I had it; he might be planted to betray us. But each day that passed made that more unlikely.

  I toyed with the vapormask. Could Mantiet’s suggestion be possible, or were his insinuations part of some outlandish scheme? What would Laura gain if I sickened? No, she didn’t need to toy with me or plant a spy.

  Mantiet approached. “Captain, I ask a favor.”

  “There’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “I won’t survive you by long. You’re as close as I’m likely to get to a cleric. Shrive me.”

  “Me? You’re joking. You need a chaplain.”

  “You are representative of Mother Church.”

  “Aboard ship. Here, in civilization...”

  “If you landed on an unexplored planet, would you not still be chaplain to your crew?”

  “Yes.”
>
  “We are strangers in a strange land.”

  “But—”

  He cried, “I’ve nowhere else to turn!”

  Was it blasphemy, or did I have authority? I concentrated on ill-remembered regs. Finally, I sighed. If there were sin, it would be mine, not his.

  I said, “If I’m to be your chaplain, I must tell you: rebellion against lawful authority is treason against Lord God.”

  “I made no overt act of rebellion.”

  “You were part of their conspiracy.”

  “I took part in discussions. No more.”

  “Money? Other help?”

  He flushed. “Some. I didn’t know where it would lead.”

  “While I am here, a piece of Government remains. You’re still bound by your oath.”

  “What do you want of me?”

  “To adhere to your oath, as long as it is possible.”

  A long silence. At last, “All right.”

  “Do you repent your sins?”

  “Yes.” He sat tense on my cot, eyes boring into mine.

  I made the sign. “In the name of the Father...”

  When it was done he whispered, “Thank you.” He turned away. Weary, I lay back on my cot. When I awoke, I no longer doubted I was sinking into illness. I was feverish. My chest ached. Alexi and Tolliver tried to tend me; irritably I waved them off. When the jailers brought our meal Tolliver demanded I be taken to the clinic. They didn’t bother to answer.

  Later, I woke from a doze, coughing. Time was growing short. “Mantiet, Tolliver, come here.” I waited. “Frederick, I have no choice but to trust you. For the sake of your soul, I hope I’m right.” I put my finger to my lips, fished inside my pants, came out with the razor. Their eyes widened. I whispered to Tolliver. “If you see a chance...” He nodded. I handed him the weapon.

  I turned to Mantiet. “I won’t be good for much. You might use the chair as a club, when Tolliver makes his move...”

  “I’ll find something.”

  “Get Annie and the middy out of the way first. I don’t want them hurt. Or Alexi.”

  Tolliver said, “If I can. There may not be time.”

  I said, “I’ll do my best to distract the guards. I’ll yell, perhaps. We’ll do it tonight if possible. No later than tomorrow.” He studied my feverish face, nodded again.

  When we were done Alexi came to squat by my side. His look was one of reproach.

  I demanded, “What’s bothering you?”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “No.” I hated to lie.

  “You keep whispering so I won’t hear.”

  I flared, “If I am, it’s my prerogative as Captain. Who are you to question me, Lieutenant?”

  After a moment his eyes fell. “I’m sorry.” His tone was stiff.

  My heart pounded. I might be gone soon, and this is how it would end between us. “Alexi, I’m sorry. Bend closer.” I whispered into his ear. “There’ll be trouble when the guards bring dinner. Take Annie and Bezrel into the cubicle when you hear them coming. Keep them there.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want them hurt. They’re your responsibility.”

  “What will happen to you?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He studied my face, troubled. “All right, Mr. Seafort.”

  I grasped for something else to give him. We were reduced to so little. “Mr. Tamarov.”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re a good officer. You always were.”

  He stood straighter. “Thank you, Mr. Seafort.” I smiled.

  Despite my warnings, when dinner came I was sleeping fitfully; the guards were gone before I could rouse myself. I cursed silently; time was running out. By our next meal it might be too late.

  “Mr. Tamarov, can you stay awake and rouse me before dawn?”

  “Yes, Mr. Seafort.”

  “Do so.”

  Tolliver looked hesitant as he approached. “Please don’t misunderstand me, Captain. But—”

  “Yes?”

  “You haven’t been well...” He squared his shoulders, said with resolve, “If anything happens to you...Are we on our own? Shall we pretend we’re still in the Navy?”

  I snarled, “Pretend? You are in the Navy, until your enlistment expires.”

  “What Navy? Look around you! Where is it?”

  “It’s here.” I coughed. “The U.N. Government hasn’t abdicated. You and I embody its authority.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder about you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, sir. Excuse my impertinence.” I glared, but he held my gaze. “And while you’re at it, sir, who’s senior: me or Mr. Tamarov?”

  It was my turn to hesitate. Alexi was on medical leave; technically that left Tolliver in charge. Preposterous, on the face of it. Yet Alexi’s memory was gone. “You’re senior,” I said, defeated. “Do as you see fit. For as long as you’re able.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Shaking his head, he turned away.

  “It’s nearly dawn, sir.”

  I groaned.

  Alexi persisted. “You said to wake you.” He shook me again.

  “What time is it?”

  “Just after five.” The hall bulbs, our only source of light, were turned down. We could barely see each other.

  Breakfast might be as early as an hour from now, perhaps as long as three hours. I struggled to sit. Panting, I made myself breathe as deeply as I could. It didn’t seem to help. I yearned for the familiar comfort of the vapormask.

  I tried to stand, failed, got cautiously to my knees. Holding on to the wall I pulled myself up, ignoring Alexi’s outstretched hand. “Put a chair there.” I pointed.

  The door was centered on the north wall. Alexi put the chair along the east wall, near the north corner.

  I prodded Tolliver with my toe. He turned over; I tapped at his ribs. He surged awake, hand darting to his pocket.

  I shook my head. “Not yet.” To Alexi, “Wake Frederick.”

  Mantiet sat, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked around saw us all roused. “I’m ready.” He slipped into his clothes, sat at the side of the table nearest to the door. His arm draped casually over an unused chair.

  “Wake the boy. Take him into the cubicle.”

  “Right.” Alexi prodded Bezrel. The young middy sat up, dazed, and followed Alexi. I heard what might have been a sob.

  Carefully I knelt by Annie’s side. “Get up, hon.” I stroked her forehead. “Please.”

  She came awake with a frightened gasp.

  “It’s all right, hon.” I paused for breath. “I need you to go with Alexi.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth, came to rest on Tolliver’s hand. She squealed in terror, clung to my shoulders.

  “Edgar, get that razor out of sight!” I struggled to free myself. “Annie, let go.”

  She wrapped herself around me. “Fightin’, with shiv? Dey gonna kill ya, Nicky!”

  “Annie, go in the cubicle!”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  With a sob, she fled.

  Knees weak, I crossed to the east wall, sat.

  I shivered, struggling to stay awake. From time to time I coughed, deep hacking coughs that served as ominous warnings. I yearned to sleep. Soon I would have a deep long rest, until Lord God woke me for His vengeance. Half aloud, I whispered, “Lord, if I could but undo my offense...I am so sorry I offended Thee.” Though it was no use, I was comforted. My punishment was inevitable, but He would know my repentance.

  Endless minutes passed, while I toyed with the vapormask in my lap.

  Tolliver lay unmoving, hand concealed under his blanket. Mantiet sat quietly, as if relaxed. Only my ragged breathing broke the stillness of the night.

  The hallway lights brightened. Footsteps. I managed to totter to my feet. When they swung the door open I would shout, catch their attention. With luck Tolliver could make his move.

  A sou
nd, from the cubicle. “Nicky?” Annie peered out.

  The door swung open.

  “I can’t wait in—” She searched out Tolliver. He lay facing the door, the razor behind his back. She stared at it. “Don’ get Nicky hurt!”

  I hissed, “Go back!”

  The first guard was halfway into our chamber. He stopped, looked about. Tolliver’s muscles tensed. With a sinking feeling I realized my shout wouldn’t be enough to distract the guard.

  Annie gaped from the corner; she should have been safe in the cubicle. Too late; the diversion had to be now or never.

  I flung the vapormask at the guard’s head, surged out of my chair.

  He whipped out his laser, aimed at me. Tolliver rose in one smooth motion and lunged across the room to crash into the guard’s midriff. The impact smashed the man into the door frame. A crunch. A cry, cut short. The gun clattered to the floor.

  I threw myself on the pistol.

  With an oath the second guard kicked open the door. He fired just as Mantiet hurled a chair at his face. The chair splintered in a flash of fire and smoke. Knife in hand, Tolliver scrambled toward the door on hands and knees, below the line of fire.

  A boot kicked the door wide. I got my hands on the dropped pistol. I lurched to my feet, but as the guard’s trigger finger twitched, my legs buckled. I went down like a stone. Sparks and fire flashed over my head.

  “Leav’im ’lone!” Annie’s lithe form flew across the room. Fingernails slashed at the guard’s eyes. Her knee slammed into his crotch. He fell with a shriek. She whirled, saw the third guard’s pistol rising, pounced on his arm an instant before he fired. A bolt seared the concrete inches from my face. I flinched and kicked myself aside. Someone toppled heavily on me with a curse. I lost my pistol.

  Tolliver tried to regain his feet; I’d knocked him down with my reflexive lurch.

  “Nicky!” A shriek of terror as the guard’s gun loomed.

  Annie clung desperately to the man’s hand and chomped savagely on his fingers. He howled, and the gun fell. She dived for it.

  The room turned red amid ghastly screams. I lay gasping for air, the warning empty-charge beep of Annie’s pistol fading from my consciousness. Time passed.

  A gentle hand helped prop my head. Annie’s wet cheek hugged mine.

  “I didn’t get a chance to use the knife.” Tolliver sounded peeved.