Prison Ship (44 page)

Mason was stunned. If his father had been so quick to execute his wife, why had he spared his renegade son?

“Why do you look so glum?” Bricket asked. “We survived.”

“I can’t believe he let me live after all I’ve done to him.”

Bricket smiled. “Someday, when you have a child, you’ll understand why.”

The
Magellan
approached them again, looking as if it might attack.

“
Marauder
, this is Commodore Cole.” A voice sounded over the speakers. “We are receiving your visual transmission. Is Captain Steiner alive?”

Mason exchanged an uneasy look with Bricket. “What do we do now?”

“Nothing,” Steiner said.

Mason smiled as he watched Daniels helping Steiner up the stairway to the command deck, into view of the camera.

Bricket chuckled.

“Nice to see you again, Captain,” Commodore Cole said over the speakers. “Prepare to receive our assistance.”

THE man in Earthstation’s holding cell was barely a skeleton of the man Steiner remembered. Jamison’s mere presence would no longer command respect from all the other military personnel around him. Troops would never again seek his guidance. His status had been reduced to that of a traitor, a betrayer of the United Star Systems. He deserved nothing less.

Two high-ranking officials sat outside the invisible energy barrier, taking turns at grilling the fallen admiral, trying to learn the scope of the damage his treason had caused. The man who had once been the mighty Ralph Jamison sat wordlessly, his hateful stare riveted on Steiner, who stood back behind the interrogators.

Before exiting the detention area, Steiner gave a wink of farewell to his former arch nemesis. A moment later, he was navigating through the bustling hallways on his way to find Suzanne.

He had seen her briefly when, along with all the crew members who had fought against Quinn’s mutiny, he had disembarked from the
Magellan
earlier that morning. Cole had brought them here to be honored, while the
Marauder
and the rest of its surviving crew had been escorted to the Tycus System for debriefing. Because of all the news reporters swarming them, Suzanne hadn’t been able to get within five feet. However, now that everything had died down, he could find out from her what the verdict was concerning his future.

His search began in the medical center, in the section marked CYBERNETICS RESEARCH. Bricket and Daniels worked inside, testing a mechanical arm hooked up to a terminal. Tramer lay stretched out on a table on the far side of the room. Cole sat next to him, talking casually, probably reliving old times. During their return voyage, Cole seemed to have put aside his prejudice and fear and had begun daily conversations with the weapons officer. Perhaps he had discovered an old shipmate.

“Just the man I wished to speak to,” Cole said, rising to his feet to greet Steiner with a handshake. “The Council has adjourned regarding the matter of Jamison. President Lindsey has taken credit for his exposure; however, I’m still pushing for you and your loyal officers to receive recognition for preventing the U.S.S. strategic plans being compromised.”

Steiner’s neck ached at the threat of another award. “I’ve had my fill of medals. Try to get Tramer and the others one.”

“I’ll do my best.” Cole glanced down at the weapons officer. “I’ve been trying to convince Tramer to inform Candice and Veronica of his part in preserving the Union, but he has refused.”

“I will not attempt to contact them,” Tramer said. “If Veronica ever becomes strong enough to accept my appearance, she will seek me out.”

“That may never happen,” Cole pointed out.

“Whatever she wishes.”

Steiner knew it was the best decision. Tramer would only hurt worse if they spurned him again. “Would either of you know where Suzanne is?” Steiner asked, changing the subject.

Cole was the one who answered. “The last time I saw her, she was listening to your pilot’s recounting of the mutiny. He has an entire audience in the arboretum, glued to every word he says.”

Memories of the exaggerated tales Mason used to spin in prison came back to Steiner, bringing a smile with them.
A showman to the last.

Once Steiner left the medical center, it took him ten minutes to reach the garden sanctuary. It was housed in a cavernous chamber overgrown with brightly colored plants and trees. A glistening stream flowed down the center, murmuring a relaxing tune. The upper portion of the high ceiling was made up of a transparent material that allowed the stars to show through. At both ends of the room, giant luminescent elements had been suspended from the roof, providing artificial sunlight.

A winding path, twisting through budding flowers and blossoming saplings, led him deeper into the interior. The strong scent of pollen rode the soft man-made breeze. He stopped on top of a wooden bridge spanning a pond dotted with lily pads and encompassed by weeping willows that stretched down to grasp the liquid surface.

J.R. and Spider sat on a far shore, practicing their harmonies. They were scheduled to sing at the station’s chapel that night. It was a performance Steiner wasn’t going to miss.

In the crystal world below, fish swam idly by. He stared at the wedding band on his finger. Slipping it off, he relinquished it to the water. The ring sparkled as it sank to the sandy bottom.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” he whispered.

He stepped off the bridge onto a new path. It guided him into a grove of evergreens. A lieutenant in full-dress uniform approached from the opposite direction. His face lit up in recognition, and he saluted before passing by.

Oh, great,
Steiner thought.
Who knows what kind of superhuman picture Mason must have woven of me? If this continues, I won’t be able to walk anywhere without drawing attention.

Farther up the path, in the center of a tree-lined clearing, people of all ranks occupied benches set in a semicircle. Everyone seemed to be listening intently to Mason, who stood in front, most likely telling an exaggerated version of what had really happened.

“You’ve already missed the best parts,” someone said behind him. “The parts with me in them.”

Steiner smiled as he turned around to see Pattie step out of the shadows of a tree, gingerly trying not to lose his balance.

Isaac Steele stepped forward and handed the Saint a cane. “You really need to use this. I will not catch you if you fall.”

“I’ll be fine. Let me be.”

“Fine by me.”

Pattie looked back at Steiner. “I may not be able to fight today, but soon.” The Saint laughed, lost his balance, and Steiner caught him. “Thanks, Slugger. If you don’t mind taking me over to one of those chairs so I can hear the rest of the story.”

He helped Pattie into one of the chairs in the outer circle.

“Suddenly, I turned around and saw a Separatist battlecruiser approaching.” Mason framed his hands around the imaginary ship. “We knew we were outgunned ten to one, but as you remember, we’ve been in that situation before.” A few cheers erupted. He imitated a very stern, pompous face. “Some hotshot admiral demanded that I surrender, but I wasn’t about to do anything of the sort.” He waved his fist, and shouted, “I opened fire on him.” The gathering went wild.

Suzanne waved to Steiner from one of the back rows. She slid over, beckoning him to join her.

He gave a faint shake of his head and pointed toward the fringe. Just as he was about to escape in that direction, Mason introduced him to the crowd. Suddenly, he had fans surrounding him. After several handshakes and bows, he pried himself away to where Suzanne waited at the edge of the grove. It wasn’t until Mason continued the tale that they were finally left alone.

“I still find it hard to believe that any of you survived that ordeal,” she said. “Did you know the fleet was under orders to destroy your ship on sight? If they hadn’t seen your pilot attacking the battlecruiser, they would have done so.”

“Yeah, he probably saved all our lives.”

“And there’s you, making a stand against thirty mutineers.” She shook her head in apparent amazement. “Someone’s bound to make a holofeature.”

“How would they end it?” he asked.

She pursed her lips together tightly. “Probably happier than I will. Your pardon has been rejected. Regardless of your reasoning, you did assault an admiral and threaten his life. However, you can be allowed to serve the remainder of your sentence here under house arrest.”

“Would I be free to roam the base?”

“I’m sure we could work something out with the C.O. In a couple of years, I might be able to get you a pardon and perhaps even command of a destroyer.”

“What about my officers? What happens to them?”

“They’ll be fine. Your success has guaranteed that the P.A.V. program will survive for a long time.”

Steiner turned back and watched Mason for a few seconds. “Can I remain captain of the
Marauder
?”

Suzanne eyed him incredulously. “After the hell you went through, you want to go back?”

“My friends risked their lives for me. I want to repay the favor.”

She shrugged. “I guess so, if that’s what you want.”

“We can discuss the rest of the details over dinner, if you’re interested.”

She smiled. “I might be able to squeeze in dinner with a war hero.”

In the front of the assembly, Mason finished his story. “The Separatist Empire should have known better than to tangle with the crew of the P.A.V.
Marauder
.”

Michael Bowers lives in Southern California. You can visit him at [http://www.prisonshipbook.com] www.prisonshipbook.com.