Mutiny (11 page)

"What's your name, Sergeant?" asked Cole.

"Eric Pampas, sir," was the response. "But everyone calls me Wild Bull."

"Why?"

"I used to know," he said with a crooked grin. "But just between you and me, I'm a little wasted."

"Could have fooled me," said Cole sardonically. "How about this one?" he asked, indicating the Polonoi.

"That's Kudop," said Pampas. "I told him and told him that Polonoi can't handle alphanella seeds, but he just had to chew one anyway. He's been like that for hours and hours."

"Have we got a brig?" asked Cole.

"Yes, sir," said Pampas with a grin. "You gonna lock him up?"

"He's not doing much good here," said Cole, "and I'd hate to put him in the infirmary, where he's even closer to a drug supply."

"I'll give you a hand with him, sir," said Pampas. He bent over to lift two of the Polonoi's legs and suddenly staggered. "Wow!" he said, stifling a giggle. "I'm a little higher than I thought."

"What about him?" asked Cole, jerking a finger at the Molarian.

"That's Sergeant Solaniss," said Pampas.

"That's me," chimed in the Molarian, still swaying.

"Do you think if we brought an airsled down here and loaded Kudop onto it, the two of you could take it to the brig?" asked Cole.

"Sure," said the Molarian.

"Hell, what a joke that'll be on him when he wakes up!" said Pampas.

"All right," said Cole. "There'll be an airsled here any moment."

"Don't you have to call for one?"

Cole saw no reason not to explain. "We're being monitored. Someone knows I want a sled."

And within a minute a security staff member had guided an airsled to the department and turned it over to Cole.

"Do you want me to stay here and help out, sir?" she asked, looking at the three gunnery sergeants.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary."

"You're sure, sir?"

"I'm sure."

She saluted, turned, and left.

Cole activated the airsled and set it to hover two feet above the floor. He began directing Pampas and Solaniss as they tried to load Kudop onto the sled, realized they would never manage on their own, and finally gave them a hand. Once the Polonoi was on the sled, he raised the level to four feet and had them guide the sled to the largest of the airlifts.

They descended to the brig. There was no one occupying it. The force field that separated it from the rest of the ship had been deactivated, and they walked right in. Cole ordered the sled to lower to the floor, then told Pampas and Solaniss to put Kudop on his feet. As they were struggling to do so, he walked out into the corridor.

"Activate the force field," he said softly, and instantly there was a faint hum.

It took Pampas and the Molarian another minute to put Kudop in an upright position. Then they walked toward the corridor to join Cole—and bounced right back into the cell.

"What the hell happened?" asked Pampas, blinking his eyes rapidly.

"Someone turned on the force field," answered Cole.

"Why?"

"Probably because I ordered it," said Cole. "I honestly can't think of any other reason."

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"Because we're at war, and none of you were in any condition to prepare or handle your weapons."

"Aw, come on, sir," said Pampas. "We haven't seen a Teroni ship in months."

"I did," said Cole. "Last week."

"Well, if one comes after us, we'll blow it to pieces," slurred Pampas.

"You couldn't hit the wall at ten paces. If we're attacked, my life depends on your being able to function at peak efficiency, and I suspect this ship hasn't been within hailing distance of peak efficiency in years. I happen to cherish my life, and I won't let you be the reason it comes to an end."

"How long do you plan to keep us here?" asked Solaniss.

"As long as it takes."

"As long as
what
takes?"

"You'll figure it out."

He walked down the corridor, their yells and curses following him.

"I assume you captured all that," he said, certain that Sharon was monitoring him. "Put up a sound barrier so they can't be heard. If they're going to shout themselves hoarse, there's no reason why anyone else has to suffer. And place them on half rations. They're so drugged they're not going to be hungry anyway, so why waste the food? Then I want you to run a holo replay, starting from when we carried the Polonoi into the brig and ending when I walked away, and show it throughout the ship every fifteen or twenty minutes for the next day."

As he passed a communications station, Sharon Blacksmith's image suddenly appeared.

"Do you want it sent to Mount Fuji's computer, too?" she asked.

"Why not?" replied Cole. "What's he going to do? Tell me that they should have stayed on duty in that condition?"

"He won't like it. The fact that you did it on your own initiative makes him look bad."

"Then it makes him look bad. Look, what I said to Pampas and the others was the truth. If Rapunzel proves nothing else, it proves you never know when and where you're going to confront the enemy. I'm prepared to die for the Republic if I have to, but I'm not prepared to die because our crew is too drunk or too high to shoot straight."

"Let's just hope our crew doesn't try to save the Teroni Federation the trouble of killing you."

"You think it's a possibility?"

"You toss many more crewmen in the brig and I'd say it's pretty close to even money," she answered truthfully.

"Mr. Cole, report to the bridge—on the double!"

Cole arrived two minutes later and found Podok waiting for him. He didn't recognize the Molarian Officer on Deck. Christine Mboya was seated at the communications complex and seemed unwilling to look up from her work.

"I assume you're the one who wants to see me," said Cole, approaching the Polonoi. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"You can begin by saluting and calling me Commander Podok."

He snapped off a salute. "Whatever makes you happy, Commander."

"Commander Podok," she insisted.

"This is silly," said Cole. "How the hell many commanders can I possibly be speaking to?"

"You will address me as Commander Podok or I will put you on report."

"Yes, Commander Podok," he said. "Would it be presumptuous to ask why I have been summoned, Commander Podok?"

"You have incarcerated three gunnery sergeants in the brig," said the Polonoi.

"I know that, Commander Podok," said Cole. "I hope you didn't call me up here just to tell me that."

"Who gave you permission to imprison them?"

"All three were high on stimulants, Commander Podok."

"We only have four gunnery sergeants, Mr. Cole. You have put three of them in the brig, and by doing so you have endangered the safety of the ship."

"The ship would be in a lot more danger if they were maintaining the weapons and ammunition in their current condition," replied Cole.

"Are you prepared to take their place?" asked Podok.

"If we're attacked, then of course I am," answered Cole. "But I think it would be more practical to instill some discipline on the
Teddy R
and stop situations like this from arising in the first place. There are drug dens on Rameses VI that don't have as many addicts as this ship, and there are whorehouses that don't see as much action in a night as the
Teddy R
does."

"Have you any other criticisms to make?"

"When I do, I'll make them directly to the Captain."

"You exceeded your authority by imprisoning them on white shift," said Podok. "I am ordering the three men released. We cannot be without gunnery technicians."

"You're going to be without gunnery experts whether you release them or not. Kudop was chewing alphanella seeds; he's going to be comatose for the rest of the day. The other two aren't much better."

"Are you giving me orders, Mr. Cole?"

"Just advice."

Podok stared at him coldly. "Let me give
you
some advice. If you contradict my orders, it will go hard with you."

"I don't know what I've done to anger you, but I think I should remind you that we're on the same side."

"You endangered the entire ship the very first day you arrived," said Podok. "You single-handedly forced us into combat. The fact that we emerged triumphant does not justify disobeying regulations." She paused and continued to glare at him. "You have been back less than a day and have taken it upon yourself to jail three-quarters of our weapons technicians even as we are about to enter new and potentially hostile territory. Does that answer your question?"

"The Bortellites
are
part of the Teroni Federation," Cole pointed out. "Are you resentful of the fact that we ran them off Rapunzel?"

"I am resentful of the fact that the action was initiated without orders from above and that the chain of command was ignored."

"That's rubbish. I didn't order you to attack the Bortellite ship. Fleet Admiral Garcia did."

"Enough of this. You bend the truth the way you bend regulations. I will speak no further with you."

"Then why the hell did you call me to the bridge?"

"To tell you that I am seriously displeased with you and that I am ordering the three crew members released."

"I'll just lock them up again."

"I am ordering you not to."

"Under any circumstances?"

"Under any circumstances."

"Even if they take more drugs and the Polonoi becomes catatonic again?"

"You heard me."

"I certainly did." He raised his voice. "May I assume Security heard it, too?"

Sharon Blacksmith's image appeared. "Heard and captured."

"All right, Commander Podok," said Cole. "Now we're both on record. Are you sure you want to release the prisoners?"

Podok glared at him. He still couldn't read Polonoi facial expressions, but it didn't take much imagination to imagine the loathing. "The prisoners will remain in the brig," she said at last. "You, Mr. Cole, are a dangerous man."

"I'm just an officer trying to do his duty, Commander Podok," replied Cole calmly. "Is there anything else, or am I free to go now?" "Leave."

He turned to go.

"And salute!"

He turned back, saluted, and walked to the airlift. When he got off and headed off toward his cabin, he found himself surrounded by a dozen crew members, mostly Men, who gave him a rousing cheer. A couple of them reached out and patted him on the back.

He felt confused, but thanked them and made his way to his cabin. He entered, walked to the sink, rinsed his face off, and sat down at the small desk. A moment later Forrice entered.

"Nice going," said the Molarian.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You have friends in low places," said Forrice, hooting a laugh. "Sharon Blacksmith piped your meeting with Podok throughout the whole ship."

"Great," he muttered. "As if Podok's not mad enough already."

"Podok's the least of your problems," said the Molarian.

"Oh?"

"The entire crew now knows what you do to people who take drugs while they're on duty. The ones who cheered you at the airlift probably constitute more than half of those whose systems are free of stimulants."

"That's not going to be a problem at all," said Cole. "As far as I can tell, none of the crew are cowards or deserters. Their problem is resentment at being here and boredom now that they
are
here. I think they won't mind a little discipline as long as they can see that it has a purpose; in fact, I think they'll welcome it. I think most of them
want
to be good crew members. It's just that so far no one's insisted on it, and half the regulations that the officers
do
insist on don't make any sense."

"You'd better hope you're right."

"Don't worry about it. If I'm wrong, Security is monitoring me every second."

"That just means they'll know who to charge with your murder," said Forrice.

"Are you always this optimistic?"

"I have to be an optimist," explained Forrice. "I won't have anyone to tease if they kill you."

"I'm properly touched," said Cole. "But just in case they'd rather kill the bad guys, is there anyone else on board who can fill in for our gunnery specialists?"

"I'll find someone," said Forrice. "Now that I'm off blue shift, my duties are somewhat vague."

"So are everyone else's on this vessel. That's one of its problems."

"Well, at least we know the pulse cannon was working a week ago. That's what we used on the Bortellite ship."

"Hitting a ship that's sitting on the ground and doesn't know it's under attack probably isn't the ultimate test of your weaponry," said Cole.

"I agree," said Forrice. "On the other hand, it's better than
not
hitting it."

A light blinked and a bell chimed.

"It's playing your song," said the Molarian.

"It's telling me that white shift ends in ten minutes," said Cole, still sitting. "Time to go to work."

"I don't see you rushing off to the bridge," observed Forrice.

"If I get there early, my guess is that Podok won't let me in. And of course, if I'm late she'll put me on report. So I'll go up and stand just beyond the bridge, and step onto it at precisely 1600 hours."

"Why do you care if she puts you on report?" asked Forrice, puzzled. "You know the Navy isn't going to punish you, not after Rapunzel."

"The Navy is less pleased with me than you think," said Cole dryly. "As for being put on report, if I'm going to punish all the abuses I find on board and toss the worst offenders into the brig, it really won't look very good if I go on report, even if everyone knows it's a trumped-up charge that was filed by a jealous fellow officer."

He got up, waited for the Molarian to spin out into the corridor with his graceful three-legged walk, then strolled over to the airlift and went up to the bridge level. He waited until an automated whistle officially ended white shift and stepped onto the bridge before the last of the sound had dissipated. He stood rigidly at attention and gave Podok a crisp salute as she passed by, while wondering idly if she understood sarcasm when she saw it.

Christine Mboya was no longer at the communications station. She had been replaced by Jacillios, a Molarian female whom Forrice assured him was one of the sexiest creatures alive, an appraisal that was lost on him. The Officer on Deck was Lieutenant Malcolm Briggs, a recent transfer from the
Prosperity,
where he'd struck another officer for reasons that remained vague. His file stated that he was a good officer prior to the incident, third-generation military, filled with energy and confidence, a little headstrong but destined for fine things. Finer than the
Theodore Roosevelt,
anyway.

Cole greeted the two officers pleasantly, returned a lazy salute for Briggs's sharp one, then walked over to the pilot.

"Hi, Wxakgini," he said. "How's it going?"

"The engines are driving us at five times light speed. However, adjusting for the hyperspacial wormhole that we're presently traversing, we're traveling at almost nineteen hundred times the speed of light, sir," replied the Bdxeni from his cocoonlike station.

"That wasn't what I meant, but it'll do," said Cole. "Carry on."
As if you could do anything else with your brain tied in to the engine and the navigational computer.

He walked over to Jacillios. "Everything under control, Ensign?"

"Yes, sir."

He turned to Briggs. "I don't know who Four Eyes is going to get (or the gunnery section, but let's deactivate the major weapons from here until we arrive in the Phoenix Cluster. No sense having some beginner test them when we're going this many multiples of light speed. The most likely result is that we'll shoot ourselves."

"Yes, sir," said Briggs. "I believe we'll reach the cluster in less than two hours, sir. Shall I activate them then?"

"Yeah, do it as soon as we apply the breaking mechanism and emerge from hyperspace." He looked up at Wxakgini. "I assume we're rendezvousing with the
Bonaparte
and the
Maracaibo
once we arrive?"

"Yes, sir," said the pilot. "We are to contact them when we reach the cluster, and then make arrangements to rendezvous. They are due to arrive three and two hours ahead of us. We will emerge from the wormhole in the neighborhood of the McDevitt system, and they are to be waiting nearby, which I take to mean within a light-year."

"Fine. Is there anything else I need to know—Wxakgini, Jacillios, Briggs?"

"There's
is
one thing, sir," said Jacillios. "Security wants to know if the prisoners are to remain on half rations?"

"Only for today," answered Cole. "Their sin is boredom, not treason. And have Security escort each one to the infirmary for a thorough checkup before the next white shift begins. If they've permanently burned out any neural circuits, I want to know before Podok makes another attempt to return them all to duty. I want them to pay special attention to the seed chewer; I've seen what that stuff can do."

"Yes, sir," said Jacillios.

"Speaking of rations, I haven't eaten in about six hours," announced Cole. "I'm off to grab a snack."

He left the bridge and wandered down to the mess hall. Neither Sharon Blacksmith nor Forrice was there, and he didn't know any of the others well enough to sit with them. There was polite applause when he sat down, a little more restrained than when he'd gone to his quarters. He nodded an acknowledgment, then concentrated on the menu until he felt everyone had stopped staring at him.

"Do you mind if I join you, sir?"

He looked up and saw Rachel Marcos standing next to his table.

"Be my guest," he said, indicating the empty chair at the opposite side of the table.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "I just wanted to tell you: I think that was a remarkably brave thing you did today."

"Not really," he said with a smile. "Podok lives by the rulebook. She'd never shoot a fellow officer."

Rachel returned his smile. "I meant putting those three men in the brig. The Captain never had the courage to confront the drug problem."

"Mount Fuji doesn't strike me as a coward."

"I just don't think he cares anymore."

"He cared enough to read me the riot act for taking the
Kermit
to Rapunzel and for manipulating the press."

She shrugged. "Then I guess I was wrong."

"You've been watching him a lot longer than I have," said Cole. "If you think you're right, stick by your guns."

"Argue with you, sir?" she said. "I couldn't."