Mutiny (15 page)

"No, Mr. Cole. You remain Second Officer."

"Is it Forrice, then?"

"There will be no First Officer for the time being," answered Podok. "This will doubtless change when the Admiralty Court convenes to discuss my report on the events that transpired in the Phoenix Cluster."

"I'm sure it was fair and accurate, ma'am."

"Call me Captain. 'Ma'am' is a human term, and I am not a human."

"I apologize, Captain," said Cole. "Was there anything else yon wished to tell me?"

"Yes," said Podok. "Our new mission will be to protect vitally important fuel depots in the Cassius Cluster. I have already instructed Pilot Wxakgini to take us there, and the ship should enter the Vestorian Wormhole any moment. That will cut our transit time to seven hours." She stared at him. "We shall arrive during blue shift. If at that time you should see any sign of the Teroni fleet, or even a single ship, you are to take no action, but are to report it directly to me. There are no exceptions. Is that perfectly clear, Mr. Cole?"

"It is perfectly clear, Captain."

"I have my orders concerning the fuel depots, and I intend to carry them out to the best of my ability. You turned Captain Fujiama's head and it cost him his life. I tell you here and now: you will not turn mine."

"So what do you think?" asked Forrice as he sat across from Cole in the small officers' lounge.

"About what?"

"Don't be obtuse," said the Molarian. "I'm talking about your not moving up to First Officer."

Cole shrugged. "When you've been a captain twice, the difference between First Officer and Second Officer becomes unimportant."

"But you know Podok's going to have you doing all the First Officer's jobs."

"That's her privilege," said Cole. "She's the Captain. What she says goes."

"Even if she says something dumb?"

"Captains can't say anything dumb," replied Cole with an ironic smile. "That's clearly stated on page three of the Regulations."

"Let's see if you're still smiling a month from now," said Forrice.

"Let's see if we're still alive a month from now," said Cole. "I don't know if it's occurred to anyone else, but the
Teddy R
isn't going to be able to offer much opposition to a fleet of Teroni ships. To tell you the truth, I don't know how we'd do against even one well-equipped ship."

"They must not expect any incursions from the Teroni Federation, or they wouldn't be transferring us to the Cassius Cluster."

"I don't know," said Cole.

"But like you say, we couldn't hold them off."

"I wonder if the Navy wouldn't prefer a dead hero to a live one," said Cole. "Every time I've done something effective it's made the admirals and generals in charge of this war look bad. The press may love it, but I think the brass is getting damned tired of it."

"Well," said the Molarian, "it would explain why they stuck you out on the Rim, and then in the Phoenix Cluster. And if they think the fuel depots aren't known to the Teronis, then that explains our move here—either you serve in total obscurity until everyone forgets you or you die in combat and they have a hero who doesn't embarrass them." He paused. "You'd think our side would
want
heroes."

"To brag about, yes. To work with, no. If I know the press, right now it's looking for high-level officers to crucify for not knowing that the Bortellites were on Rapunzel or that a secret meeting was taking place in the Phoenix Cluster. And if I know the Navy, they've got three full departments of public-relations officers working round the clock to prove to the press that everything that happened was carefully planned in advance. That's why I'm not going to get another medal; the public would demand that I be put in charge of something major, and that's anathema to men and women who haven't had an original thought in years."

"You don't seem especially outraged," noted Forrice.

"Would it do any good?" responded Cole.

"What difference does
that
make?" demanded the Molarian. "There's something wrong when I'm angrier than you over their treatment of you."

"Our side isn't perfect," said Cole, "but we
are
the good guys. It seems more productive to save my anger for the abuses of the bad guys."

Podok entered the lounge just then. She walked over and stood before Forrice. "Commander Forrice, you will be in charge of the bridge during red shift until further notice."

"Yes, Captain," said Forrice, rising to his three feet and saluting.

"Commander Cole, you will remain on blue shift."

"I assumed as much," said Cole.

"May I sit down?"

"You're the Captain."

She turned to Forrice. "I would like to speak to Commander Cole in private. Would you mind stepping outside the lounge for a few minutes?"

"I'd be happy to, Captain," said the Molarian. "I'll stop anyone else from entering until you tell me your meeting is over."

"Thank you," said Podok. She waited until Forrice had left and then turned to Cole.

"I imagine you are very disappointed not to have been made First Officer," she said.

"I can live with it."

"Nonetheless, I want to be totally honest and forthright with you. The reason you have not been promoted is almost certainly my report concerning your conduct on both the Rim and in the Phoenix Cluster."

"I assumed as much," he replied. "They had no other reason to pass me over."

"There will be an Admiralty hearing, and the matter will be resolved," said Podok. "You will either be promoted to First Officer, remain as Second Officer, or be demoted. The matter is out of my hands."

"I am certain that your hands are clean," he said, wondering if she could understand sarcasm.

"All that is behind us. We must still function together on the
Theodore Roosevelt.
Until they promote you or send us a new First Officer, you and I are the two highest-ranking officers aboard the ship."

"I am aware of that, Captain."

"I'll be perfectly candid, Commander. I don't like you. I don't like the fact that you find ways to circumvent regulations, that you obey only those orders you approve of, that you continually put the ship and crew in danger. I cannot argue with the results, at least thus far . . . but if every member of the crew, many of whom all but worship you, were to use their initiative and freely disobey any orders they didn't like, the results would be disastrous. Every military in the history of every civilized race has been constructed as many smoothly functioning cogs in a mighty war machine. Even societies that cherish the individual, such as your own, realize that under certain circumstances, in which category the military falls, every crew member must subordinate his individuality, even his creativity, for the good of the whole."

"I have no disagreement with you in principle," said Cole.

"But not in practice."

"Conditions change, and it would be foolish not to change with them."

"I asked for this meeting not to argue with you, Commander Cole, but to explain my view of the military. My report has been submitted. I wouldn't change it if I could, but it's over. As far as I'm concerned, we are starting with a fresh slate. I am only the third member of my race ever to command a starship, and I would like your support."

"You have it," said Cole. "We have our differences, but I'm an officer in the Republic's Navy, and that means I am loyal to my commanding officer."

"Good," said Podok, rising. "I shall count on it."

She walked out of the small lounge without another word. Cole got up to leave, but found Forrice blocking the doorway.

"Well?" said the Molarian.

"She offered an olive branch," said Cole. "You wouldn't have recognized it as such, but she did the best she could."

"An olive branch?"

"Sorry. As ugly as you are, I should remember you're not human and don't know all the references. She offered to make peace with me, to start over again."

"How long do you think that will last?" said Forrice with a sarcastic hoot.

"Until it stops," said Cole. "I'm off to grab a nap before blue shift."

Forrice stepped aside to let him pass into the corridor. "I'll see you later."

"Fine," said Cole. "Come visit me on the bridge during blue shift. It figures to be pretty dull. If the Navy thought there was a snowball's chance in hell of the Teronis actually finding the fuel depots, there'd be more than just the
Teddy R
here to stop them. They may or may not want the enemy to find
us,
but it figures that the fuel depots are well hidden."

Cole stopped by the mess hall to pick up a cup of coffee to take back to his room with him. The place was deserted except for two human crewmen sitting in a corner and Slick, the Tolobite, who sat alone, eating something that seemed to wriggle as it approached his mouth. Cole decided to stop at his table for a moment.

"I just wanted to thank you again for your efforts the other day," he said. "I've recommended you for a decoration. That's some symbiote you've got yourself."

"He thanks you."

Cole looked surprise. "Can he speak?"

"Only through me," said Slick. "We are linked by a telepathic bond."

"The two of you together form just about the most useful entity on the ship," continued Cole. "You've been sorely misused, or totally unused, to date. That's going to change."

"Thank you, sir," said Slick. "Commander Forrice and Lieutenant Briggs have been schooling me in the gunnery section."

"I suppose you might as well keep it up for a week or two more, until you're comfortable with what you're doing—but turning a crewman who can survive in space without protection, or walk across chlorine or methane planets with no discomfort . . . well, it seems wasteful of your talents."

"I'm glad to find an officer who appreciates my particular talents, sir."

"I do more than appreciate them, Slick," replied Cole. "I
envy
them." He carried his cup to the doorway of the mess hall. "Nice to see you again."

He walked to the airlift, descended to the level where his cabin was located, and approached it, sipping at the coffee to make sure it didn't spill.

"You know," said Sharon's voice in his ear, "you're a senior officer. You could get a yeoman to carry it for you."

"That strikes me as a waste of a yeoman," he said.

"I
knew
I liked you from the first minute you showed up. You want a little company?"

"I'm going to bed," said Cole.

"I know. I've been monitoring you, remember?"

"If I say yes, do you win the pool?"

"I'll let you know after you say yes."

He stopped and took another sip of his coffee.

"I'd love to, but ..."

"But what?"

He grimaced. "How the hell can I yell at the crew for fraternization?"

"Write a letter of resignation when you enter your room and tear it up later."

"I don't think you
can
resign in wartime."

"I'm tired of making suggestions. Are we going to go to bed together or aren't we?"

"Come on down to the cabin. I'll think of some justification."

"I'm a damned good-looking woman," said Sharon. "This is the first time someone ever needed justification for taking me to bed."

"War makes strange bedfellows."

"You call me strange once more and I'll stay where I am."

"Then I'll fall asleep and you'll have to live with being rejected."

"You don't get off the hook that easily," said Sharon. "I'm on my way."

A male Molarian entered the corridor. Cole decided to break the connection, then realized that he hadn't made it in the first place and had no idea how to stop it.
Well, at least they can't see you,
he thought.

He entered his room, placed his coffee cup on the small desk, took his shoes off, and sat down in front of his computer.

"Activate." It instantly hummed to life. "Any word on Slick's medal yet?"

"There has been no response yet."

"They'd better not be holding it up because I'm on report," said Cole. "He's the one it's for, not me."

He had not asked a question, so there was no reply.

"Any word about who might have been on the moon of Nebout IX?"

"No."

"I'm starting to get annoyed," muttered Cole. "It's like the whole incident never happened. Deactivate."

The computer went dead, and a moment later Sharon Blacksmith entered his cabin.

"Well?" she said.

"Well what?"

"Have you come up with a justification?"

"You had an affair with an alien. They're our allies now, but who knows what the future holds? You're going to have to show me every single thing he did to you, so we can safeguard future officers against such seductions."

"Every single thing?"

"Absolutely."

"I can hardly wait," said Sharon, joining him on the bed.

For the next week life aboard the ship was uneventful. The
Teddy R
continued to patrol the Cassius Cluster without seeing any enemy ships. Podok seemed to be less rigid, though, as Cole pointed out to Forrice, rigidity didn't manifest itself during routine operations.

Cole spent the time continuing to acquaint himself with the ship and its crew. He was visited in his quarters twice more by Sharon Blacksmith, who insisted that any more often would imply an emotional commitment that neither of them could afford to make in this situation. He was content with the arrangement; there was nothing she wasn't willing to try or suggest, and she left him so exhausted that he was certain that if they got together on a daily basis he'd be too tired to carry out his duties.

He began evaluating the crew of the
Teddy R,
not on paper, but in his head. He would trust Forrice with his life, and indeed had done so in the past. Beyond the Molarian, he thought the two most efficient officers were Sharon Blacksmith—he had come to that conclusion before they began sleeping together—and Christine Mboya. He didn't know if Slick was any good at what he was being asked to do, but it didn't matter; that symbiote made him the most valuable member of the crew. Cole found himself wondering five or six times a day what kind of thoughts a sentient epidermis had; he couldn't come up with an answer. He also was developing a soft spot for Wild Bull Pampas; the man had kept his word and insisted on working extra shifts to make up for all the shifts where he'd been stoned. Like many others of the crew, he seemed to crave discipline and purpose, and Cole had called a number of informal meetings to explain exactly what they were doing in the Cassius Cluster and why they had to remain alert.

Podok had been an efficient First Officer, as long as there was a Captain to overrule her. She'd been an excellent Captain since her promotion, but he distrusted her rigidity.

On their ninth day in the cluster, word came through from Fleet Admiral Susan Garcia that the charges against him had been determined to be true, but not serious enough to demote him, and that he would remain as Second Officer. They would be rotating in a new First Officer as soon as conditions allowed.

"Which means when they've got another officer who embarrasses them by being right when they're wrong," concluded Cole as he told Forrice the news in the mess hall. "Of course I put in a strong protest and demanded that you be promoted."

"I think that all but guarantees I won't become First Officer," said the Molarian, uttering a hoot of laughter at his own comment. "It's just as well. As soon as we get a new First Officer, I can get off red shift."

"How the hell much of a hardship can red shift be?" asked Cole. "We're here for the express purpose of preventing the Teroni Federation from appropriating our fuel supplies. Since we haven't spotted a single Teroni ship, what's your objection?"

"We're going to spot one one of these days," said Forrice. "I want to have the gunnery crew properly trained before then. I might add that when he can stop talking about what a great man you are, Sergeant Pampas is proving to be a motivated assistant."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'd also like to know why you think we're going to run into a Teroni ship out here."

"Don't you?"

"Yes. But I'd like to hear your reasons. If they're different from mine and just as valid, I'll have Christine scan the area a little more frequently."

"It's simple enough," said the Molarian. "We know the Bortellites had an energy shortage. If they had to go to Rapunzel for it and risk an armed engagement, that implies the Teronis don't have much, if any, to spare, so they figure to be looking for our fuel depots."

Cole nodded. "Yeah, I used the same facts and came to the same conclusion."

"There's another one, one you'd never think of yourself," added Forrice.

"Enlighten me."

"They know you're our most decorated hero, and they know you're an officer on the
Teddy R.
My guess is that they'll never believe the Navy would order the
Teddy R
out here unless we were protecting someone or something pretty damned valuable—not with Wilson Cole himself onboard."

"Rubbish," protested Cole. "They know I'm in the doghouse."

"They also know you bit them twice while you were on your leash," said the Molarian.

"Enough with the comparisons. You've never seen a dog in your life."

"I've never seen a Domarian, either, but I know they exist," Forrice shot back.

"I've been to Domar once."

"Is it true what they say about the Domarians?"

"Probably. I don't know what they say, but I know what I saw. They're on twenty-foot-long stiltlike legs, and they follow the sun endlessly over the horizon. They never stop, they never sit or lie down, and if one of them falls behind he's killed and eaten by some predator that never leaves the night side. It's more like a funhouse than a planet. Millions of intelligent Domarians—and not a house, a library, or a hospital on the whole damned planet."

"What do they eat?"

"The air."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know how some fish skim through the water with their mouths open just picking up small fish and crustacians?"

"We don't have any fish on my planet, but I'll take your word for it."

"Well, the Domarians have a couple of mouths, large ones, on each side of their jaws, and they pick pollen and microscopic nutrients out of the air. It's weird; I was wearing a helmet the whole time, and it never got dirty, but that air was feeding maybe ten million Domarians."

"I'd like to see it sometime."

"If the Teronis capture it, maybe we'll go there to liberate it."

"What would they want with the damned place?"

"What does any government want with any planet? In the end it boils down to the simple fact that they don't want someone else to have it."

"Makes sense to me," said Forrice.

"That's because you have a sense of humor," said Cole. "I'll be damned if I know why it makes sense to them."

The yellow-alert siren suddenly sounded, and just as suddenly ceased.

"I wonder that the hell
that
was all about," said Cole.

"We might as well go to the bridge and find out," said Forrice.

"Okay—but ask permission before you set foot on it. Podok is very jealous of her prerogatives."

He and Forrice got up from their table and took the airlift to the bridge. Rachel Marcos was standing at attention by her computer, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears.

"I request permission to come onto the bridge, Captain," said Cole.

"I also request permission, Captain," said Forrice.

"Permission granted."

Cole was about to step forward when Forrice jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.
"Salute!"
whispered the Molarian.

Cole saluted, then walked onto the bridge. "We heard the yellow alert for just a few seconds, and then it vanished."

"That is because we are no longer on yellow alert," replied Podok.

"What happened, Captain?" asked Cole.

"Ensign Marcos falsely identified a ship from Lodin XI as being from the Teroni Federation."

"They're very similar, sir," said Rachel.

"Speak only when you are spoken to, Ensign," said Podok. "And address your remarks to me, not to Mr. Cole."

Cole turned to Podok. "These things happen," he said.

"These things are not supposed to happen. I have sent for a replacement. Ensign Marcos will not be allowed on the bridge in the future." She stared at Cole as if she expected him to protest.

"May I make a suggestion, Captain?" he said.

"Go ahead."

"You are absolutely right to remove Ensign Marcos from the bridge," he said. "But her error was one of inexperience. Rather than making her exile permanent, why not let her earn her way back?"

"Explain."

"Run a series of computer simulations," suggested Cole. "When she properly identifies the ship in the simulation as friend, neutral, or foe three hundred times in a row, let her come back to the bridge."

"That is reasonable," admitted Podok. "We will make it five hundred times. And you will not begin for a week, Ensign Marcos, which will give you time to study the configuration of the ships of all known powers."

Rachel turned to Cole. She seemed about to speak.

"Not a word, Ensign," said Cole sharply. "The Captain has made her decision, and you will abide by it."

"But—"

"I told you before to speak only to me," said Podok. "Proceed directly to your quarters. You are confined there for the next three solar days. Your meals will be brought to you, and you will speak to no one. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain," said Rachel.

"Then salute and leave."

Rachel saluted, tried to wipe the tears from her face as she lowered her hand, and headed for the airlift.

"Well, since nothing exciting is going on out there," said Cole, "I think I'll leave, too—if that's all right with you, Captain."

"Yes."

"Thank you, Captain," he said, snapping off a salute.

"I'll come with you," said Forrice, also saluting.

He and Forrice walked to the airlift. The Molarian got off at the mess hall, while Cole descended to his cabin, where he found Sharon waiting for him.

"I thought this lock only responded to my voiceprint and retina-gram," he said, stepping inside as the door snapped shut behind him.

"Security can get into any room," she replied. "What if the Teronis draw and quarter you, or stake you out in the hot sun and turn small starving carnivores loose on you? Someone has to go through your effects, confiscate all classified material, jettison the rest, and clear the room for its next occupant."

"Well, as long as there's a sentimental reason for it, how can I object?"

"I was monitoring the bridge," she said. "You were a little hard on Ensign Marcos, weren't you?"

"My solution will have her back on the bridge in two weeks," replied Cole. "If I hadn't spoken up, Podok would never have let her back. If I seemed harsh, it was for Podok's benefit, not Rachel's."

"She's got a crush on you, you know."

"Podok? God, I hope not!"

"Don't be purposely obtuse. I'm talking about Rachel."

"Not after today, she doesn't."

"Don't bet on it," said Sharon.

He grimaced. "That's just what I need—a twenty-two-year-old ensign with a crush on me."

"Some men would think that was a pretty nice situation."

"Some men like children. I like women."

"I like hearing you talk like that," said Sharon. "It makes me think thirty-four isn't so old."

"Hell, I passed thirty-four without even slowing down," said Cole. "I wouldn't know what to say to a twenty-two-year-old kid."

"I don't think talking is atop her list of priorities."

"It never is," he replied. "The nice part is that eventually they grow up."

"What were
you
doing at twenty-two?" asked Sharon.

"The same thing I'm doing now," he answered. "Trying to sort out the smart orders from the dumb ones. Of course, back then I didn't think twenty-two-year-old girls were too young."

"Well, at least you're honest." She stared at him thoughtfully. "Why did you join the Navy?"

"I don't like walking."

"I'm being serious."

"They offered me a commission. The Army didn't. I figured I could get more accomplished as an officer than a foot soldier." Suddenly he grinned. "I guess I was right. You can't have two ships taken away from you in the infantry. How about you?"

"Me?" she repeated. "I've always been interested in other people's secrets. Now learning them is part of my job." She smiled. "Someday I'll learn all of yours."

"Maybe someday I'll tell them all to you."

"What fun would that be?" She stared at him, trying to interpret his expression. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said. "It's just that that's the first time I've heard the word 'fun' mentioned in, oh, it must be ten or twelve years."

"Yes, I guess it doesn't go hand-in-glove with war," said Sharon. "And speaking of war, just how close were we to that Lodin ship?"

"Rachel would say: not very. Me, I'd say: close enough. If it wasn't within range, it was damned close to it."

"I think that—" Suddenly she frowned and tapped the tiny earphone in her left ear, then looked up. "Got to run."

"What is it?"

"A fight broke out in the science lab, of all places," she said. "It's under control, but I have to get over there."

"The lab? Check the supplies. We've got such a thorough guard on the infirmary that some of the druggies may be trying to mix their own."

"Will do. You want to come along?"

"Nope. I'm being a peace-loving officer this week."

"Catch you later," she said, getting up from the desk chair and walking toward the door, which irised to let her out.

The military's aging me fast
, he thought.
I should be flattered that a pretty young girl has a crush on me. Instead I'm annoyed.
He smiled.
Now,
that's
real maturity.
He called up the book he'd been reading for the past few days and got about two more pages into it when the holo-screen went blank, to be replaced by Sharon's image.