Fisherman's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 4)

by David Feintuch

  I muttered something under my breath.

  “What, sir?”

  “You should have told me to go bother Sergeant Radz, the way I was annoying you.”

  Tolliver only smiled, but Midshipman Keene blushed furiously. I clapped the boy on the back. “Let’s get out of their hair.” We walked across the pad to the waiting shuttle.

  Acceleration. Ache. A long wait.

  We deboarded at Earthport Station, trudged down the endless service corridor to our transfer shuttle. The cadets would follow on a larger transport. A waste of resources, but I made no objection; travel with a cabinful of excited plebes would lacerate what remained of my nerves.

  The U.N.A.F. pilot greeted me indifferently; I pretended not to notice.

  The jaunt to Academy Base took over two hours. As setdown neared I watched my three cadets; they seemed at ease. Well, it wasn’t their first trip aloft.

  I leaned across the aisle to Johan Stritz. “So. How does it feel to be back at Farside?”

  “Feel? Fine, sir.” He licked his lips.

  “The truth.”

  “Aye aye, sir. I mean, I’m sorry.” His eyes flicked to his mates, as if for support. He rubbed the arm of his seat. “I—I don’t know how to feel, exactly. Sergeant Radz and I ... he was kind of ... I’m sorry.”

  “Criticizing your betters, Cadet?” My tone was sharp.

  “May I have a word with you, sir?” Tolliver, in the seat forward.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Privately.” Without waiting, he unbuckled and went to the rear.

  I followed. “Now what’s the problem?”

  “That boy!” His finger stabbed at Johan Stritz. “You hauled him out of his barracks for a special program that didn’t exist. You haven’t spent—damn it, let me finish!—spent ten minutes alone with him for all the time you had him. You won’t let him give you a polite answer about how he feels, but when he admits the truth you chew him out. Go ahead and cane him, if that’s what you’re after!”

  “I spent plenty of time with those cadets! I took them—”

  “Did you talk with them? Ever?”

  “Of course I did. I had Adam—” I swallowed. “I talked with Kevin, just last week.”

  “How does Stritz feel about your ‘special program’?”

  I was silent a long moment. “I don’t know.”

  He said nothing.

  “Edgar, what should I do?”

  “Do as you please.” Suddenly he seemed tired. “I just know I hate bullying.”

  “You bullied me enough, in the dorms!” What was wrong with me, bringing that up now?

  “So you say. Maybe I did. Have we learned nothing over the years?”

  “No.” Disturbed by what I’d revealed by the one syllable, I blurted, “I’ve learned I’m worse than ever I imagined.” I left him, returned to my seat. “Mr. Stritz ... Johan—”

  The speaker crackled. “We’ll be setting down shortly. Those of you who wish to suit as a precaution, do so now.” The main transport, half an hour behind us, would be full of suited cadets fogging the inside of their visors with excitement, but our own VIP shuttle would dock directly at the pressured gate.

  “Should we suit, sir?”

  “Go ahead, just to be safe.” I ignored my own suit in the rack above. Let Lord God take me, if that was His wish. I’d evaded His justice long enough.

  While Thorne and Tolliver held back in the lock, I stepped forward to take the salutes of Lieutenant Bien and the midshipmen she’d gathered to fill out the welcoming party.

  “Welcome aboard, sir.”

  “Thank you.” I forced congeniality into my tone. “Are you ready for an onslaught of plebes?”

  “Mr. Radz has them in hand, sir. He’s at the main lock. When they’re all desuited, shall I assemble them for greeting?”

  “I’ll see them at dinner. Mr. Keene, settle your middies into the wardroom. Report to Mr. Tolliver for new assignments this evening. I’ll see you three cadets in my office now—no, make it an hour.” Time to drop my duffel in my cabin, freshen up, walk off some of my restlessness.

  A few minutes later I wandered through the barracks area. Everything appeared exactly as it had on my last visit; I didn’t know why I’d expected otherwise.

  The classroom warrens. I found nothing of interest. Back past the barracks, but there I encountered the first squads of plebes, duffels shouldered, on their way to their new dorms.

  To avoid them I ducked into a service corridor, off-limits to cadets. Somewhat disoriented, I struck out toward the Administrative wing.

  Around a corner, Lieutenant Jeff Thorne stood, hands in pockets.

  He came to attention, saluted casually.

  “As you were.” My tone was not overfriendly. I made an effort to soften it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thinking about the last time I was in this passage.”

  “When was that, Jeff?”

  He didn’t answer directly. “I never thought I’d come back. Did you?”

  “After we graduated? No.” I leaned against the bulkhead. “It feels ... odd.”

  His bitterness welled. “Worse than that. It reminds me of things I’d—rather not recall.”

  “What are they?”

  His eyes swiveled. “Isn’t that prying, Commandant?”

  I was suddenly tired of reaching out. “Yes. I’ll stop. Carry on.” I moved toward the hatch.

  “Wait.” It sounded like an appeal. “It reminds me of—hope, I guess. Or innocence. What I expected from life.”

  Despite myself, I was moved. “Jeff, it’s not too late.”

  “You think not?” A scornful smile.

  “Yes!” I took his arm. “Not for you, at any rate! You’ve betrayed no one but yourself.”

  He disengaged my hand. “What are you saying, sir?”

  “You feel sorry for yourself because you failed to live up to your potential. I’ve failed Lord God Himself—do you know what I’d give to trade places with you?”

  “I apologize.”

  “Don’t be sorry, get hold of yourself!” Was I talking to him, or to myself? “Groundside, when Sandra Ekrit was insolent at table. Did you cane her?”

  “Yes and no. We talked. When I was done, I gave her one stroke. I think she might have been happier with more.”

  “See? You have a natural instinct for handling cadets, and middies too. I’ve told you that before.”

  “But I’m lost.” He grimaced. “Arcvid, gin, forcing myself out of bed to face another day—”

  I wanted to shake him. “Be what you were! What you are!”

  He was quiet a long moment. “Do you think I could?”

  For a time neither of us spoke. At length I said, “Do you know when I was here last?”

  “Farside?”

  “No, this corridor.”

  He shrugged. “Cadets weren’t allowed.”

  “Unless a midshipman took him on a mission ...

  Bewilderment. Then recognition dawned. “The gravitrons. We never even came close. Old Ridley had the guard.”

  “And Robbie Rovere stumbled into me, and I went rolling down the ladder. The rest of you disappeared so quick... I smiled. “I’ve never scrambled up a flight of stairs so fast. All Ridley saw was a blur.”

  “We deserted you.” His face darkened. “As I did later in the mess hall. If you’d been caught ...

  “But I wasn’t.” Not that time. “We lived to roam again. Don’t forget, when they caught me in the mess hall, you tried to take the blame. I learned something from you, that day.”

  His eyes shimmered. “What was that, sir?”

  Suddenly my voice was strained. “Your courage, in coming forward. Jeff, I’ve done many things—terrible things, and my soul is forfeit. But I’ve never betrayed my mates; thanks to your example, at least I’ve kept that.” I had to turn away.

  “Easy, sir.” His tone was gentle.

  “I’m all right.” I started slowly for the hatch. “Jeff
, get over your regrets. You have a great deal to give the youngsters.”

  “And give up Arcvid? Sorry, a joke. What I mean is ... I’ll think about it, sir. That’s all I can promise.” He grimaced. “Maybe here, without the pubs ... we’ll see.”

  My mood somber, I went directly to my office, found my three charges waiting. I ushered them into my inner sanctum. They wouldn’t normally see it unless for extraordinary punishment.

  “You may sit.’

  I laced my fingers, not knowing how to begin. Wasn’t it best to avoid the indignity, say nothing, just send them back to barracks?

  Father’s visage was stern. “There is no shame to confessing error. Only in committing it.” Yes, Father. Why then did I dread admitting my follies to you, despite the relief it brought?

  Kyle Drew squirmed, subsided at my frown.

  “I owe you all an apology.” My eyes grew heavy with the need to look away. I did not.

  Kevin Arnweil ventured, “What for, sir?”

  “I’ve done nothing to help, after bringing you all groundside.” I met his eye. “Kevin, you were in shock after Cadet Edwards died. You weren’t coping, and I thought Sarge was making it worse.” As if ashamed, he looked to the deck.

  “And you, Kyle. How could we make you understand Dustin’s death was our fault, not yours? I can imagine the guilt you feel, that it was your helmet that opened his.”

  Drew stared into his lap, his mouth firmly shut.

  “Johan. You got off on the wrong foot. I thought somehow I could help you, and the others. But I didn’t.”

  It was Arnweil who finally spoke, hesitantly. “Sir, are you washing us out?”

  “Of course not!” I stood, paced helplessly. “I had to tell you ... I—I don’t know how to help. I intended to give you my time, help you through your troubles. Instead I made you into errand boys, or ignored you. All that’s left is to apologize.”

  The silence stretched.

  Kevin Arnweil blurted, “You didn’t ignore me, sir.”

  “Rubbish. The only time I spoke with you was when we tried to find Mr. Thorne.”

  “Yes, sir. Right after that. We walked, and you told me what it was like for you as a cadet.”

  “That was nothing.”

  “For you, perhaps.” The boy’s expression was almost defiant. “It was good to hear someone else had been through it.” His cheeks flamed.

  “Oh, I remember how a cadet feels.” I gestured. “My second year, Commandant Kearsey put me across that very desk to cane me. In his office I felt the terror you must feel at having to speak to me. But that’s why I’m the wrong person for you.”

  Stritz blurted. “Please don’t send us back to Devon.” I gaped, but he raced on. “It’s our fault too! We keep quiet around you, so as not to make you mad. We don’t give you a chance.” He looked to the others. “You know it’s true.”

  Kyle Drew studied my face, risked speech. “I guess I was kind of disappointed, waiting around for messages to take the sergeants. I thought you’re always learning things at Academy.

  Besides the books, I mean. Like, flying helis.” He brightened. “But at least I got to see Wellington.”

  “You deserve more.” My tone was gruff.

  “Are you sending us back to barracks, sir?”

  That’s exactly what I’d had in mind, but now it would seem a punishment for being frank. Again, I’d trapped myself. I made the best of it. “Not if you’ll give me another chance. I’ll try new rules. You’re free to ask questions, or to tell me what’s on your mind. Sergeant Obutu will get you back on track with assignments.”

  It wasn’t enough; I needed more. “You may do your homework in my cabin before bunking in the dorm.” Good Lord. What was I doing? “I’ll help you with it.” I added lamely, “I’ll try not to let you down again.”

  They said nothing. I could imagine what they were thinking. The Commandant had gone quite mad, and they now had to spend their entire day with him.

  “That’s all.” I hesitated. “Unless anyone has anything to add.” Heresy. Pure heresy. They were cadets!

  Chapter 20

  THAT EVENING I CAUGHT Tolliver on the way to the mess hall dome. “I apologized to Stritz and the others.”

  “Oh, wonderful.”

  “Now what’s the matter?”

  He shrugged. “Better than snarling at them, I suppose. Best if you could find a distance and keep it. A Captain doesn’t apologize.”

  “This one does. He needs to.” I increased my pace. “I was wrong to give them special treatment in the first place.” He made no reply.

  Tolliver stood aside for me to enter. Five hundred cadets rose as one.

  I took my place. “Where’s Lieutenant Bien?”

  Tolliver. “She left on the transport, sir.”

  “Why?”

  “I gave you the leave roster last week. You approved it yourself.”

  After dinner, I again walked the warrens in restless anxiety. Sandra Ekrit and Midshipman Anton Thayer, on some errand, stood aside, salutes held until I’d passed. Hands in pockets, I strode on.

  I turned, went through a service corridor. It led ... where? The laundry? I had no interest in that. I detoured down a ladder halfway through the corridor. It led me deep into the bowels of Farside, on the service level where the technicians and ratings who manned our machinery were housed.

  I bypassed the gravitron chamber where a tech stood watch day and night, went instead to the outer fusion control room. A bored tech sat reading a holo. No matter; our power station was fully automated and his watch was excruciating boredom.

  He jumped to attention.

  “As you were, mister.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No.” I pointed at the splotched deck. “What’s that, spilled coffee? Have someone clean it up.” Perhaps I should run inspections for staff as well as cadets.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  I climbed the ladder back to the main level, went to my cabin to sleep.

  A few evenings later, I sat in my office reviewing memos at my console. A report from Portsmouth: Quartermaster Serenco had confessed to stealing over a hundred thousand unidollars and was remanded for trial. No mention of his relationship with Senator Wyvera; apparently that was part of Boland’s deal. I sighed, tried to put it out of my mind.

  Memorandum from Admiralty: the caterwauling bomb was being passed to Naval Engineering for preliminary design. At last the wheels were rolling, however slow. Another note. Captain Pritcher was reassigned as Admiralty Chief of Protocol, directly under Admiral Duhaney. Captain Tenere, Adam’s father, would take Wellington.

  I read the message from Eddie twice. Annie was eating again. He had found my old bicycle in the shed, fixed it up, and bought a sturdier one for himself. He and Annie biked into town for supplies each day.

  Thank you, Lord. At least that goes well.

  Kyle Drew knocked, came shyly into my office. “Am I interrupting, sir?”

  “Not if I’m alone, you know that.” In the days since our last conversation I’d encouraged my cadets to unbend, and I’d managed not to wither them with a disapproving glare when they did. Awkward, for all of us. I checked my watch. “Isn’t it nearly time for bed?”

  “Yes, sir.” His voice cracked, and he blushed. “I have a few Engineering problems left for tomorrow. May I do them here?”

  “Quietly.” After a moment I added, “Unless you need help.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  I thumbed through a few more files while Kyle tapped industriously at his holo. “Why here, rather than the dorm?” I asked.

  “I’ll go, if you’d like. It’s just ... He flushed. “It’s not very friendly there, sir. Since we were assigned to you.”

  I should have known. By taking the three under my wing I’d made outcasts of them. Well, it was still better than washing them out, and that had been the alternative.

  I freshened my coffee, went back to my files. After
a while I noticed the boy crossing and uncrossing his legs, muttering under his breath.

  “Need to visit the head, Cadet?” My tone was sharp.

  He was startled. “No, sir.”

  “Stop fussing, then.” I dictated a few notes. I’d need to talk to Tolliver about appointing a new quartermaster; if we left it to Higbee at BuPers, Lord God knew whom he’d send.

  Kyle Drew sighed.

  I glowered. “Get out if you can’t keep quiet!”

  Immediately he gathered his chips. “I’m sor—”

  “Belay that.” As Tolliver said, I couldn’t find a distance and keep it. “What’s wrong, Kyle?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t get this stuff.” He laid his holovid on my desk. “Basics of Electrical Engineering. Ergs and ohms and watts.”

  “It takes study.” I tried to sound sympathetic.

  “Why do we have to know this goofjuice? Engine-room gauges tell you if you’re in the red.” He checked my face, afraid he’d gone too far.

  “The Navy wants to make you an educated man, not a gauge reader.”

  “I know a watt is a measure of power, which we call ‘P,’ and voltage is a measure of electromagnetic force, and we call it ‘E.’ But all those formulas ... I get lost.”

  I leaned back with a smile. “That’s easy, lad. There are just two formulas you need to remember. Say after me: ‘Twinkle twinkle, little star; Power equals I squared R.’” Kyle gaped, but repeated the jingle dutifully.

  “You know that ‘I’ is current measured in amps. ‘R’ is resistance measured in, uh, ohms. Now, voltage—‘E’—equals T times ‘R.’ You can derive the other formulas from that, right? T equals ‘E’ over ‘R’. ‘R’ equals, um, ‘E’ over ‘I.’” I stopped while I was ahead.

  He looked at me with wonder. “How did you learn that, sir?”

  I basked in the glow of his admiration. “Don’t they still teach the rhymes? Go back to your problems, see if you can get them now.”

  As a cadet I’d labored for weeks at memorizing the merciless formulas. Two years later, on Hibernia, crusty Chief McAndrews had discovered my ignorance when I was assigned engine-room watch. On a practice drill I’d misplotted a Fuse to set us inside the B’n Auba Zone, so close to the Sun that no vessel, no matter how small, could escape.