The moment the airlock hatch slid shut I wheeled on Sandy.
“Change your pants, Mr. Midshipman Wilsky!”
“Aye aye, sir!”
I caught his arm as he started to run. “If you think Lieutenant Cousins is the only one going to deal with you, guess again! Tomfoolery on duty? God--” I caught myself in time.
“God bless it, Mr. Wilsky! Mr. Holser and I will give you some attention.” He blanched; unleashing Vax on him was a threat indeed. I released him; he double-timed it to the wardroom, glad to be free of me.
Seething, I set Alexi at attention against the bulkhead.
Then, nose to nose with him, I reamed him slowly and thoroughly. At the end he wasn’t far from tears. My memory is very good. Most of what I said came from Sergeant Trammel at Academy. I recalled it was very effective.
I dismissed Alexi and headed for the bridge. “Permission to enter, sir.”
The Captain was still on watch. “Granted.” Didn’t he ever sleep? “Midshipman Seafort reporting, sir.”
“Hemerely nodded. Maybe he was tiring, after all. I took my place at the console. There was nothing to do but watch the simulscreen.
“What was that commotion in the suiting room, Mr. Seafort?”
That was tricky. The Captain had heard something about it; Lieutenant Dagalow needed his permission to leave ship.
I couldn’t lie to an officer, no matter what. Yet it was also my job to keep wardroom affairs out of the Captain’s hair. I said carefully, “Mr. Wilsky tripped and cut his hand, sir.”
“Ah. Is he getting medical attention?” There was a dryness _ in the Captain’s tone that I found suspicious. On the other hand, the Captain was not known to joke with midshipmen.
“It was just a minor scrape, sir.”
Captain Haag waved it aside. “No matter.” Lieutenant Malstrom winked at me. So he did know.
“Three more trips after this, sir.” Lieutenant Malstrom spoke to the Captain.
“Yes.” After a moment he added, “Then we get under way in earnest.” No more stops for nine months until we reached Miningcamp, except for routine navigation checks.
Captain Haag leaned back in his chair, his eyes shut. Lieutenant Malstrom yawned. I tried not to yawn too. It had been a long and emotional day.
“Hibernia,Mayday! Mayday!” It must have been a seaman; not a voice I recognized.
The Captain bolted upright, slapping the caller switch.
“Hibernia!”“We have a passenger down! Suit puncture!”
The Captain swore. “What happened?”
“Just a moment. Sir.” We could hear him relaying the message on his suit transmitter.”Lieutenant Dagalow slapped on a quickpatch and re-aired her suit. Mrs.--the passenger is unconscious. Probably still alive, sir.”
“Tell Mr. Cousins to get everyone back into the launch.”
“Aye aye, sir. The woman is wedged in the bridge hatchway. She touched the emergency close. It shut on her suit.
They can’t reach around her to the hatch control switch.”
I didn’t know bridge power backups could last so long.
The bridge of any major vessel is built like a fortress. When the Captain slaps the dull red emergency-close patch inside the hatchway the hatch snaps shut almost instantly, with great force. Thereafter it is almost impossible to enter the bridge.
Blocked by the unconscious passenger, Celestina’shatch hadn’t shut entirely, but the body hindered access to the control panel. Somebody had fouled up badly, letting her in.
The Captain touched the caller. “Machinist Perez, call the bridge.”
In a moment a voice came. “Machinist here, sir.”“Crowbars and laser cutters to the Captain’s gig at once.
Have another seaman suit up with you.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Shall I take the gig across, sir?” Lieutenant Malstrom got to his feet.
“No, I’ll go myself. You take the watch.” Captain Haag started for the hatchway.
“Aye aye, sir. But, Captain--”
“It’s my responsibility.” His voice had sharpened. “I’ll have to see what happened. If she doesn’t survive... “
Passengers might be cargo, but there would be a Board of Inquiry if anyone died. Captain Haag shook his head. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour. You have the conn.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The Captain slapped the panel. The hatch opened. He strode toward the ladder.
Lieutenant Malstrom and I exchanged glances. He grimaced. I felt pity for Lieutenant Dagalow and even for Mr.
Cousins; when the Captain got to them, heads would roll.
A few minutes later they launched the gig. We watched in the simulscreens as it shot across to Celestina.Smaller and far more maneuverable than the launch, the gig was a mere gnat against the brooding mass of the great stricken ship.
Celestina’slock was already occupied by the launch. The gig maneuvered as close as it could, then the seaman fired a magnetic cable into the lock. The Captain went across, hand over hand, just like a cadet at Academy.
Half an hour later the speaker came alive. “Bridge, this is Hibernia.”The Captain naturally called himself by the name of his ship.
“Go ahead, sir.”
“It was easier than we thought.” Captain Haag sounded relieved. “Perez reached the switch with the point of a crowbar. She’s breathing, at any rate. We’ll bring her back on the launch: it’s faster. Get the next gaggle of passengers ready.
Send an extra middy next trip for the gig.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Shall I go for the gig, sir?” I tried to conceal my eagerness. The midshipman he sent would be, however briefly, in command during the passage between ships.
Lieutenant Malstrom smiled. Perhaps he remembered his own days as a middy. “Sure, Nicky.”
With magnification set to zero we could see the passengers and crew waiting in the launch. The moment the Captain and the injured passenger were aboard, its lock closed. Crewmen untied the safety line.
The Captain sounded worried. “Her complexion isn’t good. Have Dr. Uburu stand by at the lock. Belay that figuring, Mr. Cousins, there’s no time. Darla, feed coordinates to our puter!”
“Aye aye, sir.” Darla knew when to be all business.
Lieutenant Malstrom and I watched on the simulscreen as the launch shot away from Celestina.Under main power it headed toward our lock. When it reached the halfway point I stood to leave for the launch berth. I glanced over my shoulder at the screen.
The speaker blared. “THE ENGINE’S OVERHEATING!WE’RE THROTTLING DOW-- THE SHUTOFF WON’T--”The caller went dead as the launch disintegrated in a flash of white light.
“Lord God!” Lieutenant Malstrom froze at his console. I heard myself make some sort of sound. Chunks of twisted metal and other debris spun lazily off the side of the screen.
I glimpsed a shredded spacesuit.
The lieutenant frantically keyed the suit broadcast frequencies. Nothing but the barely audible hiss of background radiation.
I stood rooted halfway between the console and the hatch.
Mr. Malstrom’s eyes held terror. Together, we stared into the space the launch had occupied.
At last, Lieutenant Malstrom began to function.
We couldn’t search for survivors, even if there’d been any; we had neither our launch nor the gig. Mr. Malstrom ordered Vax and a party of seamen across to recover the gig from Celestina’slock. Squirting propellant from tanks strapped to their thrustersuits, they navigated the void between Hiberniaand the derelict. At last they reached the gig. Vax sailed it back to Hibernia’swaiting lock. He docked it as well as any of the lieutenants might, far better than I was able.
We could do nothing else.
Mr. Malstrom made the necessary announcement to the stunned passengers and crew. From some inner reserve he summoned a formal dignity. “Ladies and gentlemen, by the Grace of Lord God, Captain Justin Haag, commanding officer of U.N.S. Hibernia,has died in an explosion of the ship’s launch.