Prisoner's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 3) Read online

As I slapped open my cabin hatch a lithe form flew at me, knocking my breath away. I hugged Annie with heartfelt warmth, grinning until I realized she was sobbing softly into my shoulder. “What’s wrong, hon?”

  Annie clung. “All ’em gone. Dey be downdere, all ’em joeys. No one up here ’cept me.” Only under stress did her hard-won grammar and diction lapse into her former trannie dialect.

  I squeezed her tighter. She’d known that all the transpops awaiting transshipment to Detour would be leaving, including herself, and had chosen to stay with me a few extra days. I thought better of reminding her. “Sorry I couldn’t get back last night, hon.”

  She sighed, disengaging herself from my damp shoulder. “I unner—understand,” she said carefully. “Did yo’ Admiral say where they sending you next?”

  “No.” I hung my jacket in the bulkhead closet. A third of the entire Naval fleet was now protecting Hope Nation system. There was little chance Hibernia would be the next ship to Detour colony.

  Annie and I would have to part, and we both knew it. The only way we could stay together was to marry, if she’d have me, and that would almost certainly cost me my career. Admiralty was notoriously conservative; my disregard for regulations and my youth already worked against me. Were I to marry a former transpop—one of the ignorant and despised hordes who roamed most of Earth’s sprawling cities—I’d be blackballed. Though I’d never be told the reason, I’d be unlikely to see command again.

  “I met Alexi,” I said. Both he and Annie had shipped on Portia, but she’d known him then only as a distant, handsome young figure occasionally glimpsed in the corridors of Level 1.

  “Nicky, I been thinking.” As she calmed, her diction returned, and despite myself, I smiled. “This staying on ship, it be no good,” she said. “I ain—I’m not ever going to see Hope Nation again, and you need time on real land. Would you show me dis place?”

  “It’s full of memories.” My tone was gentle. How could I take her where I’d gone with Amanda? The comparison could only be cruel.

  “I wantin’—I want to know your memories.” I frowned and she rushed on, “Nicky, yo’ wife is dead. She ain’ never coming back. You got to live. I won’ be ’round, but you got to go on.”

  That she was right didn’t make it easier, but I owed much to her. “If that’s what you’d like,” I said. “We’ll rent a room groundside and I’ll show you the sights.” The Venturas, perhaps; the breathtaking mountains of Western Continent, where Amanda and Derek and I—no, this would be a different trip.

  We could visit the plantations. Emmett Branstead, a passenger I’d impressed into the Service on Challenger, had returned to Hope Nation while I was recuperating at Lunapolis from my injuries. Despite his condescending and irritable manner before enlisting, Emmett had proven a loyal and conscientious sailor once he’d taken the oath. He’d left word at Admiralty House that I was invited to his family’s plantation whenever I could come.

  His invitation rather surprised me; I’d have thought he’d be anxious to put his involuntary servitude behind him. I’d met his brother Harmon, three years before, on my long-leave with Derek Carr.

  I put aside the throb of memories. “When would you like to go?”

  “Today?”

  I groaned; my chest still hurt from the morning’s liftoff. Still, diving into Hope Nation’s gravity well wouldn’t be half as bad as clawing out of it. “Very well.” I reached for the caller, set it down again. “No, let’s walk to Dispatch; I’ll show you Orbit Station.”

  “I don’ want to go to dat place.”

  “The Station is just like a ship, only bigger.”

  “There ain’t no air around it. I don’ like it.” Groundsiders.

  “It’s as safe as Hibernia, and I’ll be with you. Come, I’ll show you around.” Protesting, she let me take her through the locks.

  Imagine an old-fashioned pencil stood on end, with two or three half-inch-thick disks slid halfway down and pressed together. That’s a rough model of an interstellar ship. Forward of the disks is the hold, in which cargoes for our settlements are crammed, along with the supplies consumed during the ship’s long voyage.

  The passengers and crew live and work on the disks. Each disk is a Level, girdled by a circumference corridor, connected to the other disks by east and west ladders. The bridge is always on Level 1. Hydroponics and recycling are below. Aft of the disks sits the engine room, whose great Fusion motors terminate at the drive shaft comprising the stern of the ship.

  Orbit Station was like a stack of these disks, only without the pencil. And more and larger disks. The Station had five levels, enough to get lost in, which to my embarrassment I soon did.

  “You ain’ no better, than a groundsider,” Annie scoffed when we passed the commissary again. “Jus’ ask someone.”

  “Dispatching should be down this corridor.”

  “It wasn’t the last time.”

  She could be maddening. “Come on.” We passed a sign pointing to Naval HQ but I ignored it; though they could arrange shuttle seats for us, I could have done as much from the caller in my cabin. My goal was to find Dispatching, somewhere on Level 4.

  Annie seemed as relieved as I when we finally arrived at the dispatcher’s office. A shuttle was leaving in two hours; time enough for us to pack. I let the dispatcher provide us detailed instructions back to Hibernia’s bay.

  I came on a young officer lounging in the entryway of Naval HQ, and I stopped. “Excuse me, Lieutenant, are you assigned here?”

  He stiffened. “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you know Mr. Holser?”

  “Holser? Oh, yes, Vax. The big joey.” He grinned. “He’s posted to tactics. I believe he’s at Admiralty House this rotation, sir.”

  “Please check.”

  A few moments later the man returned, another lieutenant a few steps behind. “As I thought, sir. He’ll be groundside another week.”

  “Very well. Thank you.”

  “Uh, Captain Seafort?” The lanky officer who’d followed.

  I returned the lieutenant’s salute. “Yes?”

  “I thought it was you, sir, from the holozine pics. Second Lieutenant Jeffrey Kahn.”

  “What do you want?” My voice was sharper than I’d intended.

  “I—nothing, sir, except to speak with you. I wondered if—what it was like to see the aliens, sir. For the first time.” Those damned holozines. Just as the notoriety of my discovering the aliens had begun to fade, my return with Challenger had fanned the flames.

  Annie gasped, wrenching her hand free. My face was hot, my scar throbbed. “Where are you assigned, sir?”

  “I was on Valencia, sir. Sorry if I—”

  “If you were under my command you’d be sorrier, Lieutenant. Dismissed!”

  “Aye aye, sir. I apologize.”

  I stalked down the corridor, pulling Annie with me until she protested. “Nicky, you hurtin’ me.”

  I let go of her arm. “The damn—blessed insolence! Interrupting a Captain!” She scurried to keep up. “Just so he could say he’d met me!”

  Annie spoke with dignified care. “There no harm being famous. You’re lucky.”

  “Is no harm,” I corrected, my pace slowing. During our year on Hibernia I’d labored, at Annie’s request, to teach her Uppie speech and civilized ways. She approached the English language as the study of a foreign tongue, which in a way for her it was.

  “Anyway, that’s not the point,” I said. “If one of my lieutenants felt free to annoy a Captain I’d—”

  I’d what? I didn’t know. I recalled Alexi offering me the use of his apartment, though it was a blatant breach of protocol. But we were friends, weren’t we? Shipmates.

  No, that shouldn’t matter. I sighed. Perhaps I’d been a touch hard on Mr. Kahn.

  I browsed through listings in a spaceport caller booth and arranged apartment showings. The furnished flats were expensive, especially on a lease of weeks, but on a ship in Fusion my pay gathered unspent, so
I could afford it. As it happened, the second apartment we saw was but two blocks from Alexi’s and for some reason I liked it enough to take it without looking further.

  We unpacked our few belongings and sauntered around our block. Annie devoured the texture of Hope Nation with eager eyes. I promised her a tour of downtown, we bought a few groceries for the micro, and sun still setting, we went home to bed. As we snuggled under the covers she made it clear that I’d get little sleep that night.

  In the morning, surprisingly rested, I strolled downtown with Annie, pointing out buildings I knew. We passed Circuit Court, where years before I’d confronted Judge Chesley in defense of my authority to enlist cadets. Near downtown, several blocks had been set aside for an open park; we wandered amid its greenery.

  She caught her breath. “What’s that, Nicky?” A Gothic spire lanced upward through the genera trees ahead.

  “The Cathedral, hon.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  So it was. On my previous landfall, I’d visited Reunification Cathedral, to pray that the burden of command be lifted. “Shall we go in?” I took her hand.

  The Cathedral’s spires soared from thick buttresses of cut stone, each testifying to the dedication and fervor in which the Cathedral had been born over a century before. When Hope Nation was founded, the Reunification Church had already become our official state religion. Though we tolerated splinter sects, our U.N. Government was founded in the authority of the One True God, and I, as Captain, was his representative aboard ship.

  Annie and I knelt before the altar. I gave silent prayer, sad at the knowledge that it must go unheard.

  Annie waited behind me, in a pew. When I stood she whispered, “Look up.”

  I gazed upward at the ornate gilt-edged craftsmanship of the buttresses. “Yes. Beautiful.” I squeezed her hand.

  “Place is so strong. I feel...safe. Don’t wanna go.”

  Yes, she’d feel secure in Lord God’s house, if anywhere. I stopped myself from saying it aloud. “Detour has its own churches, hon.” But none as beautiful as this. Detour was too young, too raw.

  “Let me stay here awhile.” She ran her finger along the sturdy, burnished wood of the pew.

  “All right.” I sat, took a missal, idly thumbed through it. Annie wandered.

  “Sir? Is that you?” A plump youngish man.

  I peered. “Mr. Forbee!” An old acquaintance. We shook hands. “I’d have thought they’d let you retire again.”

  Three years ago, when I first arrived with Hibernia, Forbee was floundering as Commandant of the tiny Naval station, eager to be relieved. “I suppose I could if I wanted to,” he said. His eye flicked to my scar, and away. “But with the invasion, and all...as long as there are senior officers so I’m not left in charge again...”

  “Of course.”

  He paused. “I’m with the tactical group now. Enjoy the work.”

  “Isn’t that where Vax Holser’s posted?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s at Admiralty House this rotation.” For a moment his eyes clouded. “What are your plans, sir?”

  “Miss Wells and I are taking in the sights.” I beckoned to Annie, introduced her. “We’re lunching with Lieutenant Tamarov, then I’ll stop at Admiralty House.”

  He hesitated. “Sir, about Vax...”

  “Is he well?”

  “Oh, yes, fine. Couldn’t be better.”

  I said, “He’s a good man, very good, but I’ll admit he takes some getting used to.” I glanced at my watch and stood. “Annie, we’d better get going; Alexi’s waiting. Nice to see you again, Mr. Forbee.” I extended my hand.

  We met Alexi at a restaurant I recalled from my previous visit, and afterward he drove us back to our apartment. At Annie’s urging I accompanied Alexi back to Admiralty House; she wanted our dinner to be her own accomplishment. I went eagerly.

  Alexi said little during the short drive, as if preoccupied. After he parked, we climbed the steps to the double doors, past the winged-anchor Naval emblem and the “Admiralty House” brass plaque I’d known from my first cruise.

  The lanky duty lieutenant stood from his console to salute. “You’re here for Admiral De Marnay?”

  “No, Vax Holser.”

  “He’s upstairs in the tactics office, sir. Shall I call him down?”

  I grinned. “I’ll run up. We’re shipmates.”

  Alexi followed me up the ladder. “Sir, I think I should tell you—”

  “Later, Alexi. Let me say hello to Vax.”

  “But—”

  “Vax? Are you there?”

  “STAND TO!” Vax Holser’s bellow made me flinch. The roomful of lieutenants and midshipmen snapped to attention.

  Eyes locked front, the brawny lieutenant stood ramrod stiff.

  “As you were.” I hurried forward, my hand out. “Vax, how are you? Good to—” I stumbled to a halt.

  Vax Holser, his face an icy mask, had swung into the at-ease position, hands clasped behind him. His eyes were riveted on the bulkhead past my shoulder. He pointedly ignored my hand.

  I gaped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, sir.” His gaze remained fixed on the wall. He said no more.

  “I’m so glad to see you, Vax!”

  “Thank you, Captain.” His voice was remote.

  Alexi cleared his throat. “Mr. Holser, Captain Seafort’s been through hell. He came to see you as soon as he—”

  “Be silent, Mr. Tamarov,” I snarled. I wouldn’t have Alexi beg on my behalf. “Leave at once!”

  “Aye aye, sir.” Alexi wouldn’t argue with a direct order, even if I wasn’t his commanding officer.

  I approached my former first lieutenant with trepidation. “Are you speaking to me, Vax?”

  Vax Holser said slowly and distinctly, “Yes, sir. We’re on duty.”

  His reply told me what I needed to know. I turned on my heel and left.

  Alexi waited below in the anteroom. “I tried to warn you, sir, before—”

  “Why?” I demanded. “What’s he so angry about?”

  “When you were to be left behind on Challenger, you wouldn’t let him relieve Tremaine or transfer to join you.”

  I was stunned. “He won’t forgive my saving him from harm?”

  “No, sir.”

  Numbly I went out into the heat of the day.

  We paused on the steps. “I tried talking to him,” Alexi offered. “He wouldn’t listen. He said you had no right to refuse our help, to face that nightmare alone.”

  “Lord God damn it!”

  Alexi drew back, shocked, knowing it was blasphemy. For the moment I didn’t care. I hated the Navy that had cost me my wife, my son, my friends.

  “So, you young whelp, I suppose you’re smirking over your revenge.”

  I spun. Admiral Tremaine glared from the foot of the steps.

  Alexi echoed, “Revenge?”

  “Thanks to him I’ve been relieved, as I’m sure you know.” Tremaine’s expression was sour. “Despite your sniveling, Seafort, you made it home and back again. So your whining about Challenger was for nothing.”

  I was in a foul temper. “Admiral Geoffrey Tremaine, you are on inactive duty; before witness I do call challenge on you to defend your honor!”

  The Admiral’s eyes narrowed. “You’d go through with it, then? Very well. You’re aware the choice of weapons is mine?”

  “Of course.” I’d practiced with the dueling pistols Admiral Brentley had given me, but not nearly enough.

  “Very well, then. If you find someone to act as your second, have him call on me to arrange the details. I’ll be at—”

  “With your permission, sir, I will be your second.”

  “Thank you, Alexi.” I saluted the Admiral. “Please make your arrangements, gentlemen.” I stalked off.

  They had tried to stop me. Annie begged, and when that failed, used all her wiles to divert me. “But what good it do, you be killed? Dey bury you here, and dat Admiral goin’ home free?”
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  I made my voice gentle, for her sake. “Hon, I have to.”

  “But why? You know he shoot better than you!” Antique powder weapons were the Admiral’s particular hobby.

  She couldn’t understand, of course. In some things, the striving is important, not the achieving. And I’d sworn my vengeance to Lord God. Though I’d already forsworn myself in other things, my misery made me anxious not to do it again.

  Four days after my challenge, we met on a grassy meadow outside the town, Alexi stiff and formal at my side, a staff lieutenant an unhappy second to the Admiral. Other officers waited in hushed groups a distance away; news of our duel had spread.

  I hadn’t allowed Annie to attend.

  While our seconds conducted the preliminary ritual I stood sweating in dress whites, conscious of every quivering leaf of the great genera tree in whose shadow we stood, aware of every tremulous beat of my heart.

  I hadn’t prayed Lord God’s help; my soul was forfeit and my prayers must go unanswered. I was afraid, though. Not of death, but of what was to come afterward.

  I had much to account for.

  The Admiral’s second stepped forward. “Gentlemen, I appeal to you to forsake your quarrel and declare that honor is satisfied, that this matter may be put to rest.”

  Admiral Tremaine’s smile was almost a sneer. “You will recall that Mr. Seafort initiated this quarrel. I do but respond.” At his lieutenant’s frown he added, as if reluctant, “However, I declare that honor is satisfied, if the Captain is so minded.”

  The Admiral’s second turned to me. “Captain Seafort?”

  The sun beat down on the stillness of the meadow. Alexi, young and handsome, spoke softly. “What shall you do, sir?” I hesitated. He blurted, “Sir, he’s ordered home for trial. You told me how Admiral Brentley spoke of him. He’s finished.”

  I felt my legs tremble and spoke loudly as if to stop him from noticing. “You care that much if I live?”

  Alexi looked down, but with an effort returned his gaze to mine. “Very much, sir.”

  My legs steadied. Alexi cared, as did Annie. If they truly understood me they wouldn’t have such feelings, but I was glad nonetheless. As Alexi said, Tremaine was done for. Honor didn’t require me to sacrifice my life to accomplish what the law itself would achieve.