Challenger's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 2) Read online

Page 7


  “It seems so.” I bent to the console. “Terminate alphanumeric only.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Danny’s tense voice filled the speaker. “No more trouble, Captain Seafort. I promise!”

  “Very well. The incident is closed.” As I sat back in my chair I luxuriated in the Pilot’s look of astonishment and respect. I tried not to let it show.

  “Lord God, today is December 12, 2197, on the U.N.S. Portia. We ask you to bless us, to bless our voyage, and to bring health and well-being to all aboard.” I felt stiff and awkward in my dress whites, constrained by the fully charged stunner strapped to my side.

  “Amen.” I joined in the general murmur and glanced at the crowded dining hall before sitting. Dining with ship’s officers apparently no longer impressed the transients; I was seated with Mr. Singh, Mr. MacVail, and five young hoodlums who jabbered among themselves while calling to their friends scattered at various tables.

  “Sit down,” I snapped at Eddie.

  “Naw.” He remained standing. He waved enthusiastically at another table. “Talkina Jonie!” Next to him Norie snickered.

  “Sit, Eddie!”

  Still he ignored me. I unholstered my stunner and touched it to the boy’s side. He sprawled across the table unconscious. Water dripped to the deck from an overturned glass. I put my unaccustomed stunner back in its place. “Sit quietly, all of you, until the food is served.” Awed, they did. I decided my baby-sitting was going to be easy.

  It was, until the soup came. As the steward’s mate served the first course from the big tureen, Norie, Tomas, and Deke lunged impatiently at their bowls.

  “None of that!” My tone was sharp. It had no effect. “Mr. Dowan.” I motioned to the steward to remove the tureen. “Serve Mr. Singh and Mr. MacVail from another table. The children and I will do without soup.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” The steward sounded uncertain.

  “Hey, wanna eat, wanna eat!”

  “Pipe down, Les.” I glowered. “None of you gets soup tonight. If you settle down you’ll be given meat and salad when it comes.”

  “No joe gonna takur food, noway! Cap’n ain’ gonna takur dinna!” Norie was indignant. She scrambled out of her seat but stopped short when my hand fell to the butt of my stunner.

  My voice was cold. “Now we’ll do without dinner. You get to eat when you behave yourselves.” I signaled the steward’s mate. “Serve the passengers only, Mr. Dowan.”

  “Whata bouda Cap’n? Cap’n gonna chow, naw?” Les spoke in a sneer.

  “No. The Captain eats when you do.” I didn’t know why I said it, but it silenced them. “You’ll have food when you learn manners. Until then we’ll go hungry.”

  “Cap’n go inna kitchen nighttime,” Deke said derisively. “Cap’n nobe hungry, hebe da man!”

  “We call it the galley, not the kitchen. And I won’t go. We’ll work it out together.”

  “He chowdown latetime sure,” Deke told the others.

  “No. I swear it by Lord God.” I felt a pang of alarm but it was too late; the oath was given. Now, if they were stubborn enough, I could starve to death. They’d starve with me, but that was slight consolation.

  Mr. Singh cleared his throat. “Captain, are you sure you want to ...”

  “It’s done.”

  “In the heat of the moment surely you don’t hold yourself to such an oath—”

  I bristled. “My oath is good, sir, no matter how given!”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Singh hurriedly. “I didn’t suggest otherwise. I just thought ...” He let his sentence trail off.

  We waited out the meal. It looked delicious.

  “Alexi’s had Mr. Tyre up again,” Vax said, indicating the Log.

  “I know. I can read.”

  “Yes, sir. The demerits are tapering off a bit, though.”

  I was already aware. The month after I’d ordered Alexi and Philip to work together had begun with a flurry of demerits to the midshipman, then they had decreased. Now they were sporadic, though still enough to keep Philip in the exercise room during his off hours.

  Vax persisted. “I don’t like what Philip did, sir, but ...”

  “But what?” I asked, annoyed.

  “It’s time Alexi let him off,” he said bluntly. My direct question had freed him to criticize a brother officer.

  “What about you?” I asked. “The barrel’s in your cabin. Do you go easy on him?”

  “Of course not!” Vax looked shocked. “What would be the point? If we have a system of discipline, we should enforce it. The middies and cadets should dread being caned. As we did,” he added, remembering.

  “So you feel sorry for him, but you won’t ease up.” I smiled grimly at the irony.

  “No, sir, not unless you order me to.” He waited.

  I lay back, my eyes closed. When First Lieutenant Cousins had caned me shortly after I arrived on Hibernia as a middy, I’d loathed it. The pain was considerable but the humiliation was far worse. But I’d survived it, as I had in the past. Philip would too.

  “Bridge to engine room, prepare to Defuse.” I waited impatiently for the response.

  “Engine room ready for Defuse, sir. Control passed to bridge.” Chief Hendricks’s voice was unemotional, as always.

  “Passed to bridge, aye aye.” I traced the line from “Full” to “Off” on the console.

  “Confirm clear of encroachments, Lieutenant.”

  Vax Holser checked his instruments. Our first priority emerging from Fusion was to make sure we were clear of whatever objects might be about. Danny’s reflexes were faster than ours, but we followed the Navy rule: don’t trust mechanical sensors. Recheck, everything.

  “Clear of encroachments, Captain.” Vax’s attention was fastened on the readouts.

  “Very well. Plot our position, please.” Vax bent to his console, fingers flying, as Danny’s own calculations flashed onto the screens. It was an extra precaution: though we were to remain in the vicinity until the rest of the fleet arrived, I wanted to be able to Fuse on a moment’s notice.

  I was hungry, but I made an effort to put it out of my mind. The week of starvation during my battle of wills with the transpops seemed to have changed my metabolism. Now that the ordeal was over and we were eating again, I found myself gaining more weight than I’d lost; disgusted, I worked out regularly in the exercise room and watched my diet rigidly. I’d managed to take off my excess weight but now I had to cope with hunger pangs. An unpleasant change.

  “The other ships should show up in a few days,” Vax remarked. An unnecessary comment. His nerves too must be on edge.

  “Yes.” I cleared my throat hesitantly. “Vax, I don’t have to tell you how to stand watch, but make sure the middies are extra vigilant. Please.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” He understood my fears. Two years before, on our return from Hope Nation, we’d Defused for a nav check and come upon the remains of our sister ship Telstar. Worse, we’d been attacked by the bizarre fishlike creature that lurked behind her.

  Three of our men had died; I bore scars of the encounter in nightmares that persisted to this day. Vax had paid a stiff price for his refusal to Fuse until I was safely aboard; I’d stripped him of his commission as punishment. Though I later relented, he’d lost three months’ seniority and had an official rebuke that would affect his Naval career to the day he died or made Captain.

  We had no idea where the alien had come from, or how it had arrived in interstellar space. Just as the attack on Hibernia by desperate miners at Miningcamp Station had made me wary of orbiting stations, the encounter with the aliens made me very uneasy while drifting in deep space, Defused and vulnerable.

  After the watch I went back to my cabin. Amanda sat in the shadows, rocking little Nate, both of them half asleep. She smiled at me in the dim light.

  “Can I take him, hon?” I held out my arms at her nod and we gently transferred my baby to me. I swayed as I stood, rocking him. Gravely he watched me. “I love you, Nate. Momm
y loves you. Everything is going to be all right.” At the reassurance of my quiet voice, his eyes closed. He drifted off to sleep. One tiny hand opened and closed a moment before he was still.

  I loved fatherhood.

  Quietly I put my son into his crib and covered him. Amanda stretched. “I heard the engines stop, Nicky.” One grew used to the throb of the fusion drive and noticed its absence.

  “Nav check, hon. We’re waiting for the rest of the squadron to rendezvous.” Though the margin of error in Fusion was reduced with the new controls, the other ships could Defuse anywhere within two or three light-hours, but we would find each other and quickly move closer. I hoped it would be soon.

  During the first leg of our cruise I had run frequent General Quarters and Battle Stations drills. Should we detect an encroachment, alarms would ring throughout the ship; we’d go immediately to General Quarters even though there was a near certainty the encroachment was an arriving vessel in our fleet.

  A few hours later Amanda and I brought Nate to the dining hall for our evening meal. As we entered the conversation lulled momentarily. I escorted Amanda to her chair. The youngsters at our table stood reluctantly as we approached, knowing failure to do so would mean going without, again. I was embarked on teaching them more than how to refrain from throwing food at each other; I now labored at elements of courtesy.

  “Evenin’, Cap’n.” A young girl was the first to speak, and they all followed suit, mumbling. Even big Eddie, though with his customary surliness.

  “Good evening, um, ladies and gentlemen.” I sat.

  Days passed, during which I awaited the rest of our squadron with increasing impatience. I haunted the bridge, as if my presence could somehow trigger the alarms that would warn us of the encroachments we expected. When I caught Vax and Derek exchanging amused glances, I bit back a savage remark, recognized my irascibility, and left the bridge.

  I went down to Level 2 and looked into hydroponics and recycling, more to give myself something to do than to carry out an inspection. Then, trying to ignore my persistent hunger, I climbed back to Level 1 and went to my cabin. Nate might be asleep, so I opened the hatch gently. Amanda sat in her favorite rocker, smiling. I grinned back. “Hi, hon, ready for lunch yet? I—”

  We weren’t alone. Midshipman Philip Tyre sat in my favorite chair, a smile fading from his handsome young face. He began to rise to attention but could not; my son Nate was in his arms.

  “Why are you here?” I was white with anger. “Get out! Don’t ever set foot in my cabin again!”

  “Aye aye, sir!” He scrambled to his feet.

  “The next time you touch my son I’ll break your neck!” I was beside myself. “Out!” I flung open the hatch.

  Amanda was on her feet. Quickly she took Nate from the dismayed boy, tugging at my arm. “Nicky, don’t. I invited him.”

  “Go!” I slapped the hatch shut before Philip had half cleared it.

  Nate was wailing. Amanda soothed him as she rounded on me. “How dare you! Philip was a guest!”

  “He’s despicable.” My voice was tight. “I don’t want him around you or Nate.”

  “Who are you to make that decision for me!” Her glare of fury met mine. Nate began to scream, reacting to our anger.

  “Damn it, Amanda, this is my cabin!” Why couldn’t she understand? I must have some place of refuge from the ship and its problems.

  She put Nate in his crib and faced me, hands on hips, eyes blazing. “Either I have the freedom to entertain here, or I want a cabin of my own!”

  “Ridiculous,” I snapped.

  Her slap was like a rifle shot and caught me unprepared.

  My cheek stung. Her voice dropped to an eerie calm. “Whatever else you do, Nick Seafort, you will take me seriously.”

  I stared at her in amazement. What had gotten into her? “I do,” I protested. “Philip Tyre is one of my middies; I can’t have him making himself at home in my own cabin.”

  “Your own cabin,” she repeated quietly. A moment’s thought, and then she nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is the Captain’s cabin, not the Captain’s wife’s cabin. Very well. Where will you move me?”

  “Nowhere, Amanda. I want you with me.”

  Her look was steadfast. “Not on those terms, Nick. It’s not possible.”

  I loved her, yet she could be so infuriating. I sighed. “Amanda, what is it you want?”

  “To know my status. If this isn’t my cabin too, give me my own. I want the right to make my own friends. What do you want?”

  I risked the hurt she might do me. “I want you to know how much I love you.”

  Her eyes misted and she bit her lip, shaking her head. Then she came to me and rested her hand on my shoulder. “I love you too, Nicky. But you have to give me room. Can you understand how I can love you and still be furious for what you did to poor Philip?”

  “Poor Philip?” I waved in exasperation. “Good Lord, Amanda, you know what a vicious tyrant he was in the wardroom, until Derek put a stop to it.”

  “Until you put a stop to it, hon.”

  “Me?” My bitterness showed. “I gave him his way for so long that Alexi’s still suffering. It took Derek to stand up to him. I just fumbled.”

  “That’s not the issue,” she reminded me.

  “No,” I agreed. “He’s a sadist, that’s the issue. I couldn’t believe you let him into our cabin. Or around Nate.”

  She looked at me curiously. “Did you think today was the first time?”

  “What? I mean, you—he—”

  “I’ve had him here on other occasions. We sit and talk, like I do with Alexi. The look in his eyes when he holds Nate ...”

  “God, Amanda, how could you?”

  “Nicky, you know I socialize with your officers. I lunch with Alexi when you’re on watch, and—”

  “Alexi’s different. He’s a friend.”

  She met my eye squarely. “So is Philip. Mine, at least.” She paused, debating whether to continue. “And I resent what you did to him. He was here by invitation, and you threw him out.”

  “I suppose you expect me to apologize to him?” I meant it as sarcasm.

  “He deserves an apology, whether he gets it or not.”

  My temper finally unraveled. “God—” With difficulty I stopped short of blasphemy. “—bless it, Amanda, I don’t understand you! I will not abase myself before that ... that person! Not for you, not for him!”

  “Why not for yourself,” I heard her say as the hatch slammed shut behind me. I stomped down the corridor. Vax was just outside his cabin. He made as if to speak, but averted his gaze after seeing my expression.

  I was halfway to the bridge when the alarms went off.

  Alexi’s taut voice crackled over the speakers. “All hands to General Quarters! Captain to the bridge! General Quarters, all hands!”

  I raced down the corridor and slapped open the bridge hatch. “What is it?” I skidded to a halt.

  “Encroachment, sir.” Alexi’s fingers were busy at the console.

  “Four hundred thousand kilometers, closing.” Danny. “Shape and size consistent with Freiheit, sir.”

  “Let’s hope so.” I slid into my seat. “Alarms off, Danny.” The din ceased. “Send our recognition signals.”

  “Aye aye, sir.” In an emergency Danny was all business. For a few seconds, silence. Then his high-pitched adolescent voice, with what sounded like relief. “Freiheit’s code received, sir. I think it’s them.”

  My nerves were still jumpy. “Never mind what you think.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” said Danny, subdued. “Second recognition code received, sir. Positive ID on Freiheit.”

  Nonetheless, I took the crew to Battle Stations as we approached. I was sick with the memory of Telstar, from behind which an apparition had emerged. I only relaxed when Freiheit’s reassuring lights appeared on the simulscreens, and Captain Tenere’s familiar voice boomed through the speaker. “Freiheit to Portia. Are you there, Seafort?”
<
br />   “Ready and waiting, Mr. Tenere.” He was senior to me by several years and was a full Captain to boot; I really should have called him “sir.” But among Captains informality seemed to prevail.

  “Well, we’ll probably have to wait a bit for those great rowboats to catch up to us. Would you care to join me for dinner? I hear we’re serving chicken Kiev.”

  I hesitated. I was reluctant to leave my ship, but my stomach juices were churning. And the friendly company would be welcome. “Thank you, yes. My wife is aboard too, sir.”

  “Well, she’s the reason you were invited, son. We’ll look forward to seeing you both.”

  After breaking off the connection I went to find Amanda; the invitation would be a good diversion from our quarrel. And so it was, until the question arose what to do with Nate. I flatly refused to bring a babe in arms to a formal dinner. Amanda, hesitant to leave him, had to concede my point. She agreed to find a baby-sitter among the passengers.

  I rearranged the watch schedule to make sure Vax Holser was on the bridge while we were gone. We took the gig across, with a sailor to man it. Captain Tenere met us at his lock with a jovial smile. “We didn’t get much chance to talk at Lunapolis, Mr. Seafort. May I call you Nick? My name’s Andrew. The Admiral did most of the talking and not much listening, if you ask me.”

  His bluntness made me uncomfortable, though I’d said as much to Amanda. I made some noncommittal answer and we chatted about other things. During dinner, though, he returned to our briefing. “It doesn’t make sense having us drift here, by my way of thinking. I don’t think there’s a chance of encountering anything—good Lord, look how far out we are—but say we did: if we were disabled, Tremaine would still Defuse right into the middle of it. So what’s been gained?”

  “Well, we’re the point of the wedge,” I said, temporizing.

  “I suppose,” he said. “Still, we’re so deep interstellar ...”

  “About as deep as Telstar when we found her.” My tone was somber.

  “You know,” he mused, “that’s what I can’t fathom. How could those beasties get out there? I saw the holovids you shot. Those, what’d you call them? Goldfish? They’re organic, they’ve got to be. No place for fusion drives. They couldn’t, uh, swim that far, not without spending centuries en route. How do they carry enough propellant? What in Lord God’s name were they doing?”