Fisherman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 4)

by David Feintuch

  “Engine room secure, sir! Full power available for thrusters!”

  Duhaney clutched the back of the Captain’s chair. “Harry, take us out of here!”

  Pritcher seemed not to hear. “They can’t show up so soon, even if they Fuse faster than we do!”

  “Hydroponics secure!”

  “Three encroachments confirmed, Captain.” Arlene.

  “Lasers up and ready, sir!”

  “Distances a hundred meters and closing, the second is half a kilometer.” She spun up her magnification. “Just a moment on the third.”

  “Harry—”

  “Shut up, I’m thinking!” Pritcher pounded the console.

  Admiral Duhaney looked astonished but fell silent.

  Icy tentacles gripped my stomach. On the simulscreen, a fish off the port bow seemed close enough to touch. Slowly, it began to form a tentacle.

  “Third fish two kilometers, closing fast.” Arlene hesitated.

  “Captain, we’re ready to open fire.” She waited. “Sir, may I give the order?”

  Duhaney stirred. “Harry, say something!”

  I looked over the Captain’s shoulder to his console. The laser safeties were still on lock. Pritcher’s hands grasped the armrests of his black leather chair.

  Casually, I stepped between Pritcher and the simulscreen, bent to see his face. His eyes were glazed.

  My tone was soft. “Captain Pritcher, get hold of yourself. Defend your ship!”

  No answer.

  “Mr. Pritcher, please!”

  He whispered. “The size of them. They’re ... monstrous.”

  “Laser control to bridge. Targets acquired.”

  I cleared my throat, spoke in a normal voice. “Captain, may we clear the safeties?”

  “Harry, order a Fuse!” Duhaney.

  “Belay that!”

  Duhaney whirled at my voice.

  “Our coordinates are set for Vega, Admiral. Even if we plot new ones we’re too close to Earth to Fuse safely.” We risked meltdown, if not worse.

  An alarm clanged. Harlan, the puter. “Two encroachments at six kilometers!”

  Pritcher whispered; I bent close to hear. “... can’t be here so soon ... can’t...

  The fish alongside twirled its tentacle, ready to throw its acid into our hull.

  I swung to Arlene. “Relieve him. I’m not a member of the ship’s company; I can’t.”

  Her eyes searched mine, troubled. “They’ll hang me, Nick!”

  “The Admiral’s here! Ask him!”

  The tentacle twirled faster.

  “Harry, Fuse the ship!” Duhaney was hoarse.

  I snapped, “Will you take command, Admiral?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Take the ship!”

  “I can’t—I mean, I haven’t served shipboard for years, not since—”

  “Then shut up!” I leaned over Pritcher’s shoulder, slapped the laser safeties off, and committed mutiny.

  It was a rule so absolute, so ancient, that it needed no restatement. A ship had but one Captain. Rebellion against his authority merited death. And a Captain represented not just civil authority, but the will of Lord God Himself.

  There is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God ... they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation.

  So be it. Now I was twice damned.

  I thumbed the caller to shipwide frequency. “This is Nicholas Seafort, Captain, U.N.N.S., transmitting the orders of Captain Pritcher.” Stating it any other way would only cause confusion.

  “Lasers, fire as you bear!” Almost instantly, the lights dimmed, brightened.

  “Two squirts, port thrusters. Middy of the watch, get your arse to the bridge! You too, Pilot!” The Pilot was best trained for the tight maneuvering ahead.

  The speaker crackled. “We got him!”

  I squinted. The fish alongside spewed protoplasm from numerous holes. Its tentacle had stopped twirling. “Go for the nearest first! Fire at will!”

  Duhaney said tentatively, “Nick, are you sure you want—”

  “Captain Pritcher, Engine room reporting—”

  “What is it, Engine room? Pritcher’s busy.”

  “Secretary Franjee wants me to ask who’s in charge and will we Fuse to safety.”

  I snapped, “We’ve no time for civilians!” I spun the dial. “Comm Room, get off a signal to Fleet Ops. Wellington under attack, coordinates ... you have our position?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Laser room reporting, second target Fused to safety!”

  A hammering at the hatchway. I swiveled the camera, saw a middy, slapped open the hatch. “Midshipman Rives report—”

  “Comm Room, report to Admiralty we have five fish, one dead, the others closing fast.”

  The puter blared. “Encroachment seventy meters! Another at two hundred fifty meters!”

  The frantic middy saluted Captain Pritcher. “Sir, I got caught behind the section six hatch, there were half a dozen locks between—”

  Pritcher gave the middy an agreeable nod. “No hurry, Mr. Rives. Is Mr. Franjee ready for the commissioning?” A fleck of spittle glistened on his chin.

  I growled, “Belay that, boy! Comm Room, repeat until they acknowledge, and make that seven fish. Ask if there’s any help nearby!” There wasn’t, I knew. Wellington was positioned alone, to emphasize her magnificent splendor. “Laser Control, acquire new targets! Harlan, help plot laser coordinates.”

  Harlan’s voice was cold. “You have no authority aboard Wellington, Mr. Seafort. Only Captain Pritcher can—”

  “Listen here, puter—”

  “Let me, sir.” Arlene’s tone was urgent. “Harlan, I’m Lieutenant Sanders, officer of the watch. Acknowledge.”

  “Acknowledged. Of course I know you, that’s not the—”

  “Acquire targets, puter. Do whatever else—”

  “No, Arlene!”

  “—Captain Seafort asks.”

  Too late. She’d be hanged at my side. No time to think of it now. “Arlene, plot a Fuse.”

  “Where to, sir?” Arlene’s face was pale.

  It didn’t matter; Fusion was a final resort, and might well destroy the ship, if we commenced so close to Earth’s mass. “Uh—one point one four AUs should be far enough. Keep us clear of encroachments.” If we Defused into space occupied by a planetary body, we’d never know. They’d notice the result on Earth, though, even without a telescope. “Midshipman! Help her calculate.”

  “Aye aye—I mean, Captain Seafort? What’s the matter with Capt—”

  “Do what you’re told!”

  The youngster bent to Arlene’s console.

  Alarms. Harlan. “Ms. Sanders, eleven new encroachments, one amidships at eighty meters, the others—” I switched off the buzzer. A moment of blessed peace.

  “Laser Room, get the midships fish before he throws inside our range!” A warship’s guns could depress inward to within a few degrees of its hull, but no farther, else an excited tech might skewer his own ship’s sensors.

  The aft fish was also ready to throw; he’d Defused with a tentacle already formed. Once the protoplasm separated it would become a much harder target.

  “Opening hatch for the Pilot!” Arlene didn’t wait for approval.

  “Pilot Arnaud reporting.” A young man, gaunt. “Who has the conn?”

  “Seafort, at the moment.” Duhaney.

  The Pilot dived for his console, taking in the simulscreen. “Suggest we maneuver to port, that’ll give us a few extra sec—”

  The tentacle separated from the fish, swirled toward us. I shouted, “Damage Control, stand by for breach! All hands to suits!” Damn my stupidity; that should have been my first order.

  “Christ, they’re swarming all over!”

  “Laser Room, be silent!” How dare they babble on bridge frequency?

  The puter. “Two fish closing astern!”

  “Where did they come from?” I grabbed
the caller. “Laser room, fire on the fish astern!” I whirled to Arlene. “I need a Fusion plot!”

  “Working on it, sir.” Arlene’s fingers flew. “Just another couple of ... there! We’re eighteen minutes from Fusion safety, at flank speed. Mr. Arnaud, confirm!”

  “Belay that, Pilot! Stay with the thrusters, keep the fish away from us.” I hesitated. “Head us toward Fusion safety if you can.”

  “Son of a bitch, they’re Fusing as we hit them! Sorry, sir, Laser Control here. They Fuse away and reappear, or maybe it’s new ones. We keep losing them!”

  “Harlan, confirm Fusion plot.”

  The puter’s reply seemed instantaneous. “Plot confirmed to two decimals, divergence at—”

  “Close enough. Engine Room, acknowledge coordinates, stand by to Fuse!”

  With Wellington’s mass, Fusing from our current position might well mean death. But if our end seemed inevitable I’d cast Wellington to Lord God’s mercy, rather than that of the fish.

  “Bridge, I need the Captain’s personal order to prepare—”

  “He’s, ah, indisposed, Chief.”

  “I’m following procedures. I don’t care who’s—”

  I snarled, “Acknowledge this instant, or I’ll execute you for mutiny in the face of the enemy!”

  The speaker was silent for but a moment. “Aye aye, Bridge, standing by.”

  “Fuse, for God’s sake!” Admiral Duhaney jabbed his finger at the simulscreen. “Take the risk. There must be a dozen fish out—”

  “Fourteen, at the moment.” My hand shot to the simulscreen controls, halted. “Harlan, focus aft!”

  Suddenly I was viewing the tapered drive tubes. I recoiled; the fish were so close they seemed within the cabin. The skin of one of them seemed to agitate. Protoplasm spewed from a glowing hole made by” one of our lasers. The alien drifted away, propelled by the force of its own death. Meanwhile its companion had begun to grow a tentacle. I looked closer, blanched. The creature’s skin swirled in a pattern I remembered all too well.

  “Master-at-arms, break out weapons! Prepare to repel boarders astern. Chief, get all civilians topside, flank. The fish is launching outriders.”

  Duhaney yanked at my arm. “Answer me, Seafort! Why haven’t you Fused?”

  I shook him off. “Comm Room, did you get off your message?”

  “Yes, sir. Fleet Ops says to stand by for instructions. The nearest armed sloop can reach us in two hours.”

  “No! Tell them not to send the sloop, we’ll fight or try to escape!” I swiveled to the Admiral. “If all else fails I’ll Fuse, but—”

  “The Deputy SecGen’s aboard! Once the fish melt our tubes, we’re done. Get us out of here!”

  “Where to? Do you think—”

  “Obey orders, Seafort!”

  I couldn’t fight the fish and the Admiral as well. I slammed my fist on the console. “You still don’t understand! What brought them here?”

  His mouth worked in rage.

  I shouted, “Months ago I urged you to build a caterwaul bomb, but you did nothing while fish closed in on home system. Do you get it yet, Admiral? THEY HEAR US FUSE” I snatched off my cap, hurled it to the deck. The young middy recoiled, white-faced.

  Again the speaker crackled. “Bridge, the fish launched those outrider beasts! They’re bypassing the drive shaft, going for our stern lasers!”

  I ignored the caller. “We can run, but not far enough to gain any time, and they’ll hear and follow. So will every other fish in the Solar System.”

  “You had coordinates for Vega. Damn it, you still have!”

  “Wellington isn’t stocked for an interstellar cruise. If we aim for a far target and Defuse short, Lord God knows where we’ll end up, and we’ll be alone. If we stay on course to Vega, we’ll be eating each other before we’re a month out!”

  We eyed each other, both in a rage.

  I spun around my chair. “Take over! Fuse wherever in hell you want!” I thumbed the caller. “Engine Room, stand by for orders from the Admiral.” I grabbed Duhaney’s hand, slapped the caller into it, strode to the hatch. “Fuse! Save yourself the trouble of hanging me.” I struck open the hatch.

  “Seafort!” The Admiral’s voice was unsteady. “I—Jesus, don’t leave the bridge.”

  “Take the conn, or give it to Sanders!”

  “Please ... for God’s sake! I told you I’m not seagoing Navy. I don’t—it’s been too long!”

  New alarms shrieked. “STERN PORT LASER DISABLED! HULL DAMAGE, LEVEL 3. DECOMPRESSION IMMINENT!” Arlene reached across, silenced the clamor.

  “Nick, please.” Duhaney was pale.

  Arlene’s eyes met mine. More lives were at stake than my own. I swung back to the console. “Captain Pritcher, can you take over?”

  The Captain smiled. “Oh, yes, quite.” He turned to the middy. “Deactivate lasers. Stand down from Battle Stations.” The middy stared. Pritcher reached to Duhaney for the caller.

  I didn’t hesitate. “Midshipman Rives, escort the Captain to his quarters, by force if necessary.”

  The boy’s eyes were saucers. He gulped. “Aye aye, sir.” He leaned over Pritcher, spoke softly in his ear. The Captain shook his head. The boy glanced at me, whispered again.

  I pried the caller from the Admiral’s limp hand. “Midshipman Tenere, report with your cadets to the Master-at-arms! Harlan, open corridor hatches for them. Master-at-arms, issue my midshipman laser pistols.”

  I swiveled back to Harlan. “Status report for all stations!”

  “Engine room fully operational, Captain. Comm room—”

  “Cancel. Status regarding attackers, summary.”

  “Eleven fish in area. Level 3 portside hull sensors inoperative. Attack assumed in progress by outriders from fish astern. Amidships—”

  “What’s the stern fish doing now?”

  “It’s inert, assumed dead. Amidships we have four to six fish, Defusing and Fusing again at irregular intervals. Update, now three fish. New encroachments astern! Total of twelve surrounding ship.”

  “Pilot, turn us about, our stern lasers are gone!” At my left the middy argued quietly with Captain Pritcher.

  The Pilot’s bony hands flicked the thrusters. “We’re no bloody rowboat, it takes time to—”

  “I know.” Wellington’s middy was still urging his Captain. “Mr. Tenere, report to the bridge!”

  “HULL BREACH! DECOMPRESSION SECTION THREE! HULL—” I flicked off the alarms.

  I pray You, Lord God. Help us.

  “Comm Room reporting. Signal from Fleet Ops to Captain Pritcher. From Vice Admiral Llewellyn Stykes, officer of the watch. ‘Take all necessary evasive action. Seek further instructions from Admiral Duhaney on board your vessel.’ End message.”

  I gazed at Duhaney, said nothing.

  The Admiral flushed. “They’re playing it safe.”

  “He must have political ambitions, sir.” My courtesy was elaborate.

  “Master-at-arms calling bridge! Two outriders burned their way into section three! I have them on camera. I’ve got four men in there with lasers. Damn, they’re fast!”

  “Laser Room, fire on the stern fish the moment your midships lasers bear.”

  “Another few degrees, sir.”

  A cry from the speaker. “My men are down! It rolled right over them. Christ!”

  “Hold the corridor hatches to either side of section three!” If the aliens had the run of the ship ...

  “Aye aye, sir, trying. How do we fight these things?”

  “Burn them, full laser charge. Their mothership is dead. If you get the two ...

  “Right.” He rang off.

  “Harlan, status!”

  “Two more fish disabled, one Fused. Eight attackers, three alongside, remainder closing astern.”

  The Pilot fired the port thrusters with a savage squirt. “Two can play at that!” Ponderously, Wellington turned.

  I watched the screen. Three fish within throwing distance. Wi
th our aft lasers disabled, we couldn’t protect our stern. If I allowed damage to the tubes, we were done. My hand hovered over the Fusion controls.

  The fish nearest our stern released a burst of propellant from its blowhole, and drifted closer to the drive shaft. Responding ever faster to her thrusters, Wellington turned on her axis, withdrawing her stern from the advancing form.

  Harlan’s tone was urgent. “Armed party approaching, not ship’s company. I’ve sealed the hatch.”

  “Arlene, let them in.” In the simulscreen, one of the sternside fish had swung into range. As I watched, half a dozen lasers pierced it.

  “Aye aye, sir.” Sanders got up, slapped open the hatch.

  “Midshipman Tenere reporting, with the cadets.” Kevin Arnweil, Kyle Drew and the rest crowded onto the bridge. Jerence Branstead was white-faced.

  I said, “Captain Pritcher is ill and disrupting the bridge. Take him to his cabin. Now!”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Adam swallowed, approached the Captain with a resolute face. “Sir, get up, please.”

  “Midshipman Rives, place yourself under arrest in the wardroom.”

  “Aye aye, sir. I tried, he just wouldn’t let—”

  I shouted, “Off the bridge!” Ashen, the boy scurried out of sight.

  “Boland, take Mr. Pritcher’s arm!” Adam’s tone brooked no argument. “Arnweil, help him!”

  In a moment, the cadets had hustled Wellington’s Captain off his bridge. Arlene stared somberly into her console.

  I slipped into the sacred Captain’s seat. “Harlan, status update.”

  “Six fish, two of them astern, one a kilometer off the port bow. The remaining three amidships, starboard side. One is alongside laser bank three, closing fast.”

  “Pilot?”

  He licked his lips, eyes glued to his screen. “The engine room is critical.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ll try some spin on the vertical axis ... Again he fired our thrusters.

  “Master-at-arms calling bridge! The section two hatch is heating. We have our lasers trained on it.”

  “Fire the instant you see a target.”

  “Amen. That is, aye aye, sir. I have another armed party at the hatch to four.”

  “The outriders can just as easily burn through our bulkheads as our hatches.”

  “Yes, sir, but I can’t be everywhere. The camera shows them skittering back and forth in there. If they go for the bulkheads we should get a sensor alarm.”