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

  “Oh, Annie.” I took her into my arms. I’d known it was to come, yet...

  She sniffled. “I be all ri’ on Detour, Nicky. Be wid trannies, ’n all.”

  “With, not wid,” I said automatically. We’d struggled so hard.

  “With,” she said dutifully.

  We wandered into the bedroom. Her bag was on the bed, half packed. My voice was dull. “I wish you could stay.”

  “I know, Nicky.”

  “They’ll give me a ship soon, and you couldn’t go with me.”

  “I know.” She smiled through tears. “How I get all my fancy clothes in? Gonna need ’nother case.”

  “We’ll get one. The best that money can buy.” I grabbed her hand. “And that ruby necklace you liked, at the jewelers.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really? Oh, Nick, you don’ have ta do that.”

  I was already regretting my impetuosity; the bauble would cost me almost two months pay. But what would I spend it on, alone? “I don’t mind,” I said manfully. I led her to the door and the waiting car.

  Hours later, necklace shining against the pale satin of her dress, we came back to the apartment, my pleasure already dampened by her impending departure. I keyed the lock. “Just a minute,” she said, and went to the bedroom.

  I sat disconsolately, knowing I would soon hate this place. Perhaps I would move into Naval barracks.

  She called, “C’n you help me with this, Nicky?”

  “Can’t close the case, hon? Should we have bought the bigger one?” I went into the bedroom.

  Nude, she stood outlined against the window, ruby necklace sparkling in the soft evening light, hands cupping her breasts. Slowly she raised her hands to the clasp. “Show me how this works, Nicky.”

  I came behind her, touched the clasp. She turned, slid into my arms, soft, vulnerable, irresistible. Our lips met, then our tongues. I clawed my way out of my jacket and we fell onto the bed.

  Later, in the darkened room, I roused myself to pick up the buzzing caller.

  “Captain Seafort? Lieutenant Eiferts. I got you a few minutes with Admiral De Marnay in the morning, at ten.”

  “Very well.” I rang off.

  “Who was it?” Annie sounded heavy with sleep.

  “The Admiral will finally see me tomorrow. I’ll drop you off at the spaceport and walk to Admiralty House.”

  “That’s good, you gettin’ talk wid him.”

  “Yes.” I lay back.

  A moment later, a sob.

  My arms provided what comfort I could. I knew that after tomorrow, I’d never see her again. She’d settle into her new life in one of Detour’s many new factories, producing goods so urgently needed by the new-settled colony. We’d write, or at least I would, for a while. Then we would forget each other.

  With Lord God’s help, I might forget.

  In the morning I called the hospital. Alexi remained in coma. His chances of recovery dimmed each day it lasted.

  I dressed, inhaled hot coffee at the kitchen table, stared moodily at a holovid copy of the report I’d left for the Admiral. Annie put the last of her gear in her fancy new case.

  Somewhere above waited Concord, moored at Orbit Station. I puttered about the apartment until it was late enough to justify leaving. We drove past the spaceport, parked in front of Admiralty House, got out of our electricar. The brass plaque gleamed in the bright morning sunlight. Beyond, on the tarmac, the shuttle was already loading. An hour and a half from now, it would dock at Orbit Station.

  “Annie, I don’t—”

  Her smile was radiant. “No, Nick. No good-byes, otherwise I’ll cry again.”

  “I’ll miss you so much.” My voice was hoarse.

  “We was good fo’ each other.” Despite her resolve her eyes glistened as she hefted her two cases. “Bye, Nicky. Take care a yo’self.” Without looking back, she hurried across the tarmac. I watched until she reached the shuttle and disappeared from sight.

  I climbed the steps, opened the door. Lieutenant Eiferts said, “I’ll tell the Admiral you’re here, sir. He’ll be a few minutes.”

  I checked my watch. Five minutes to ten. I sat, stared listlessly at a holozine.

  Lieutenant Eiferts said something. I grunted a reply. I had no idea what either of us had said. I stood abruptly.

  “Pardon, sir?”

  “My apologies to the Admiral. I’ve been unavoidably detained.”

  His jaw dropped. “Been what?”

  “Detained.” Out the double doors, down the steps three at a time. I sprinted across the yard to the tarmac.

  The shuttle hatch was closing; I waved frantically as I ran. It reopened. One of the larger shuttles, with row upon row of seats. The pilot raised her eyebrow. “You’re too late; our weight is already in the puter.”

  I climbed aboard. “I’m not going.”

  She looked at me quizzically. “Then you’ll have to dis—”

  I peered past rows of heads. “Annie?”

  “Captain, we leave in two minutes.”

  “This won’t take two minutes.”

  “I have to seal my hatches!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Where was she? “Annie!”

  Slowly she stood, several rows back. Her eyes widened in fear. “’Bout Alexi? What happened?”

  The pilot’s protests faded.

  I cleared my throat, fumbling for words. As Annie’s fingers darted to her necklace, I blurted, “Marry me.”

  “I—what?”

  “Please. Stay with me.”

  She bit her lip, turned away to hide the tears. “You sure, Nicky? I be’ent righ’ kinda joeygirl fo’ Cap’n.”

  I said huskily, “You be joe fo’ Cap’n. I sho’.”

  “Oh, God, Nicky!” She flew into my arms.

  I said to the Pilot, “Is there time to off-load her luggage?”

  She grinned. “The lady is disembarking?”

  My tone was firm. “Yes.”

  “Then there’s plenty of time. I have to recalculate the weight.” I gathered she didn’t mind.

  Annie clung to me, sobbing. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; I did both.

  It took some doing, waiving the banns and all, but we were married the next afternoon in a hastily arranged ceremony in a chapel of the Reunification Cathedral. Eddie Boss was best man. Annie stood radiant in a traditional white-fringed jumpsuit; I wore my dress whites. From time to time during the service my glance strayed upward to the majesty of the domed roof. My only sadness was that though our marriage was in the name of Lord God, my damnation meant He would not bless our union.

  Over the caller, Admiral De Marnay listened to my apology without comment. Afterward, Lieutenant Eiferts called to reschedule my appointment for two days later. I’d been forgiven my unthinkable rudeness. Perhaps even my unthinkable marriage, to a despised transpop.

  My escapade became known throughout Centraltown, and beyond. Cards of congratulations came from the nurses at the hospital, from Harmon Branstead, from Captain Derghinski on Kitty Hawk.

  Alexi Tamarov stirred, his eyes vacant, and sank back into deep, unending sleep.

  Lieutenant Eiferts was apologetic. “He had to run up to the Station, sir. I’ll have to arrange something when he gets back.”

  Well, it was my own fault; I’d missed my best chance for a meeting. “When will that be?”

  “I have no idea, sir.”

  I hung up, brooding. More days wasted, if not weeks. I’d have to explain the delay to Harmon and Zack Hopewell, a matter I’d rather not dwell on. “Come on, hon, let’s go see Alexi.”

  Annie proudly put her hand in mine, her gold ring glittering.

  We found Alexi still unconscious. The floor nurse assured us his brain waves were steady. As usual, Eddie Boss sat glumly in the corner. I realized I’d have to put him to work soon, or transfer him back to regular duty. The silence lengthened.

  “I’ll get us all some coffee. Be right back.” At the other end of the hall, I strove to balance three
cups of coffee for the long trip down the corridor.

  “Captain Seafort?”

  I turned. “Hmm? Oh, Mr. Forbee.”

  “Here, let me help with that.” He held a cup for me.

  “Thanks. What are you doing here?”

  “Antiviral booster. It was time again.” Forbee gestured toward the door. “Seeing your lieutenant, sir?”

  “Yes.” I was brusque. Forbee could have no idea how I yearned for Alexi’s reassuring presence.

  “Admiral De Marnay was livid when he heard about the attack on your party. Said to give whatever help you need to investigate.”

  “We have to find Mantiet.” The planter had disappeared with clothing, cash, papers, and supplies. Dora Mantiet seemed panicked, and professed complete ignorance. The Centraltown police had circulated Frederick’s picture, hardly necessary in so small a town.

  “What are they up to?” Forbee gestured vaguely toward the plantation zone.

  “There’s going to be trouble. The Admiral should be briefed, but I blew the appointment he gave me.”

  “I heard.” Forbee’s eyes twinkled. “He’s a busy man. Why don’t you meet him at Orbit Station?”

  I stopped dead in the corridor. I hadn’t thought of that. “Thank you, Forbee. I think I will.”

  Annie wrapped herself around me tearfully. “You be careful, Nicky. Don’ go gettin’ yourself hurt.”

  “I’ll be safe, Annie. It’s just Orbit Station. You were there yourself.”

  “Safe!” She sniffed. “Way out in space...”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Visit Alexi tomorrow for me.” I swallowed a lump, trying to convince myself I wasn’t abandoning him. If anything happened while I was gone...

  “Eddie will take me,” she said. I nodded. She’d be as safe with him as with a platoon of Unie troops, notwithstanding his injured arm.

  “I have to run.” I gave her a last squeeze, nodded to Eddie Boss, and loped across the field to the waiting shuttle. A few technicians returning from shore leave were the only other passengers. The pilot nodded briefly and returned to his instruments.

  Moments later we hurtled down the runway and were airborne. At five thousand feet the pilot raised the nose into a stall and fired the rockets. Pressed into my seat, I gritted my teeth, willing my body to relax as the shuttle roared toward the Station.

  As often as I had endured the boost, still I tensed rather than riding with the pressure as my instructors had tried to teach me. I could hear Sarge now. “Ease up, Seafort! Relax your chest muscles. Feel it press you. Just like a woman lay atop you, but I guess you wouldn’t know about that.” I could feel the blush that heated my face, neck, arms. Sarge’s chuckle echoed still.

  And then we were free, floating weightless, thrusters silent. Nothing to do but wait. I planned my long-delayed presentation to the Admiral.

  As we neared the Station I glanced out the porthole. Most of the bays were closed and empty. Well, we hadn’t sent a third of our ships to Hope Nation to keep them moored at Orbit Station; they’d be out patrolling. I noticed a few vessels undergoing repair in the drydock bays. We were too far away to see anyone working.

  Strapped in my seat in zero gravity, I leaned into the aisle to watch the pilot, his entire attention on the meticulous docking procedure. When at last our airlock seals were mated with the Station’s, the cabin lights brightened and I got gratefully to my feet, flexing my muscles.

  Technicians bustled past in the bright station lights. I knew my way to the Commandant’s office; I’d been there several times before. I assumed that’s where I’d find Admiral De Marnay.

  In the reception area for the Commandant’s office a sergeant looked me over, unimpressed. He was U.N.A.F., not Navy.

  “Your Admiral? No, if he’s on station he’d be in the Naval corridor.”

  “And General Tho?”

  “In a meeting,” the sergeant said. “May last awhile. I could page you when he’s free.”

  “Don’t bother him. I’ll find the Admiral.”

  He grinned without humor. “Don’t get lost, Navy.”

  “No problem,” I said immediately. “I like it groundside.” I slipped out before he could reply. Interservice rivalry didn’t bring out the best in me. Not much did, these days.

  Despite my bravado it took me over an hour to locate the Naval corridor, and I had to backtrack at least once. I’m not sure about the second time.

  A lieutenant I’d seen before greeted me at the entranceway. “You had an appointment, sir?”

  “No, but I need to see the Admiral anyway.” I spoke with a confidence I didn’t feel.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, but he went with Vestra. They’re somewhere outside the orbit of Planet Four.”

  “I see.” Any idiot would have known to call ahead; why didn’t I?

  “He’s not due back until tomorrow.” Vestra could Fuse here in minutes, in an emergency, so De Marnay wasn’t really out of touch. But why did he keep taking these jaunts? Was he hungry for ship time, like me? The lieutenant chewed at his lip. “Sir, would you like me to signal him you’re here?”

  “No thanks,” I said quickly. Such presumption would not go over well, especially after I’d broken my last appointment.

  “You’re welcome to stay in Naval barracks overnight, sir. I’m sure the Admiral would authorize it.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to lift my flagging spirits. “It’d give me time to look around.”

  “The Level 4 restaurant isn’t bad, or you could try the officers’ mess. And if you’d care to listen to traffic, you could visit the comm room.”

  Was it an invitation to leave? I couldn’t tell, but in any event there was no point in hanging around the Admiral’s office. “Page me if Vestra docks,” I said.

  “Of course, sir.”

  I wouldn’t go to the comm room, not immediately. I wandered along the circumference corridor until I found Naval barracks and signed myself in. They gave me a private room, almost as large as a Captain’s cabin aboard ship.

  I wandered through Naval territory, stopped at the mess for a quick supper, then tramped back to General Tho’s wing of the Station. He would remember me, if I could arrange an appointment. These days I was having trouble getting to see anybody.

  “Mr. Seafort, is that you?” He stood in the entryway to the Commandant’s wing, chatting with an officer.

  I gawked. “Uh, yes. Yes, sir.” I shook hands with the short, elegantly groomed man. “How are you, General Tho?”

  “Fine, fine. How long have you been on station?”

  “A couple of hours. I was hoping to see the Admiral.”

  “He’s on Vestra.”

  “So I learned.”

  “Come in.” He led the way to his comfortable, spacious office. We passed through the reception area. His arm on my shoulder, the General ushered me past the astounded receptionist.

  “I missed you when Hibernia came in, Mr. Seafort. And then you, ah, were injured.”

  Nearly killed in my foolish duel, he meant. “Yes.” Politeness demanded something more than that. “I’m recovered, and on shore duty now.”

  “With our beloved planters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “They think the planet revolves around them.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose it does. Hope Nation’s agribusiness is the reason we’re here. It’s why we can afford a station as huge as this.” He waved me to a chair. “The planters are a Naval problem, thank Lord God. Not mine.”

  I gazed at the simulscreen filling one wall of his office. It offered a view of Hope Nation system, from the periphery of the Station.

  “Basically, they stuck with your plan, you know.”

  I said, “Pardon?”

  “When you left here three years ago, you told Forbee to accept my orders so we’d have a unified command. They kept the unified command, but Navy has more pull than U.N.A.F., so your Admiral’s in charge. He ranks even over the civilian Governor.” He fished in his desk drawer, brought out g
lasses and a bottle. “Drink? Good. I don’t mind about the command, actually. I’ve got my hands full running the Station, with the traffic your squadron brings. Don’t need Naval jurisdiction or civilian oversight to keep me busy.”

  I said, meaning it, “Not many men could turn away power with as few regrets, General.”

  He smiled, handing me a glass of Scotch. “Oh, I won’t say I didn’t have some choice words for William when the news came, before I had a chance to reflect on it.”

  “For whom?”

  “I’m William, sir.” A confident baritone voice from all around me. I jumped, spilling my Scotch.

  “Sorry, Captain.” General Tho grinned. “Multiple speakers. They’re rather startling, at first.”

  “Permit me to introduce myself,” said the baritone. “W-30304, at your service. Colloquially known as William.”

  “Your, ah, ship’s puter?” I brushed beads of liquid from my knee.

  A short silence. William’s tone was frosty. “I am to a ship’s puter what your puter is to an Arcvid.”

  “Uh, pardon me.”

  A microsecond’s pause before he relented. “I understand your confusion, sir. You’re Navy, and according to your personnel file you’ve never spent extended time on a station. No offense taken. You’re aware of all the functions your puter monitors aboard ship? Hydroponics, recycling, and so on?”

  “Of course.” I felt foolish. General Tho listened with a grin.

  “Well, I do all that for the Station on a much larger scale, but I also record and evaluate all tightbeam transmissions from the puters in each of your ships, as they arrive. In addition, I monitor all Station traffic and cargo selection, storage, and loading.”

  “I see.” He would have stupendous data banks, and a RAM that was breathtaking.

  “Before I leave you to your conversation, may I say I’ve heard a lot about you, Captain Seafort.”

  “Oh?” Did they program the holozines into him?

  “From Darla.”

  “I see.”

  He chuckled. “Darla is quite opinionated, but I take her conclusions with a grain of salt.”

  I thought of asking what data from my old ship’s puter William viewed skeptically, but decided against it. “Uh, thank you.”