“Aye aye, sir,” he said. “We’ll handle it. Don’t worry about the passengers.” Though his violation of form was scandalous, I was grateful for the reassurance.

“Vax, get on the other caller. Make sure everyone throughout the ship is suited.” I thumbed the caller so that it could be heard by our attack party as well as the boarders. “Mister, this is the Captain.”

“Yes?” The hint of a sneer.

“No deals. We’re ready for decompression. Surrender now or we’ll kill every one of you. Mr. Tamarov, burn through the cabin hatches one by one until you find them, then kill them!”

“Aye aye, sir!”

“You’ll lose your ship, damn you!”

“You won’t be alive to know.” I clicked off my caller.

The Pilot jumped to his feet. “Don’t! If they cut through to the mess there’ll be a bloodbath. They’ll kill the passengers.”

I said, “The mess is halfway around the disk on the outer side of the circumference corridor. They’ll never reach it. I won’t bargain with mutineers.”

“Captain, I’m warning you! Call them off!” The voice from section seven.

The Pilot was in a frenzy. “Sir, don’t make them decompress the ship, or we’ll relieve you!”

I turned. “We? Vax?”

“We’ll blow your ship!” I ignored the speaker; I had more immediate problems.

Vax fingered his laser. “No, sir. I’m under your orders.

Pilot Haynes, sir, you’re distracting the Captain.” A nice touch, that.

“They won’t do anything we can’t repair, Mr. Haynes.

We’re suited and ready for decompression. As soon as they start cutting we’ll know exactly where they are. We can--”

“What good is that?” The Pilot’s face was purple. “We’ll lose all our air!”

“Not all.” I turned to the caller. “Get on with it, Mr.

Tamarov! Blow any hatches that remain shut!”

“Captain, wait!” The voice on the speaker held a timbre of fear.

“We’re not waiting. Try cabin two eighteen, Mr. Tamarov.”

“All we want is to get off that place! No supplies, no new air, it’s a death trap! Just take us with you!”

I got unsteadily to my feet. “God damn you! Surrender before I count to fifteen, or we’ll shoot you dead the moment we find you, whether you’re trying to surrender or not! One!... Two!”

“Send us back to the station,” he said quickly. “Just let us off!”

“Three!... Four!... Five!”

“We found their cabin, sir! Two twenty!”

“Six!... Seven!... Eight! Kill them on sight, Mr.

Tamarov!”

“Aye aye, sir!”

The Pilot’s voice was urgent. “If they’ve got nothing to lose they’ll try to take us with them! They still have time to cut through the bulkheads!”

“Nine!... Ten!... Eleven!”

“Mister, we don’t have to kill each other! Just let us off!”

“Three seconds left. Mr. Tamarov, blow the hatch on my mark. Twelve!... Thirteen!... Fourteen!”

“ALL RIGHT!”A scream.

I sagged into my chair, limbs trembling. I tried to keep my voice steady. “Mr. Tamarov, hold your fire. You men, put your lasers on the deck and unlock your hatch. Stand in the center of the cabin with your hands raised.”

“All right! You won’t shoot?”

“No, we won’t shoot you. Not now, not ever. You have my word. Mr. Tamarov, weapons ready, but hold fire.”

“Aye aye, sir. The hatch is opening, sir. I’m going to--”

“Let me, sir.” Vishinsky. I smiled; no midshipman would be shot down in Mr. Vishinsky’s care. Alexi was in good hands.

The master’s growl was ominous. “Face the bulkhead, you scum!”

In a moment the attackers were brought under control and hustled to section eight. Vishinsky’s party checked the remaining section seven cabins and found no more invaders.

Alexi and two seamen removed the bars blocking the airlock hatches, while Vishinsky moved on to section six, the only zone still not in our hands.

One miner surrendered immediately as soon as the hatch to six was opened. Two others were found cowering in passenger cabins, using terrified passengers as shields. They surrendered the moment Vishinsky’s men arrived.

When our last hatch indicator flashed to green I breathed a sigh of relief. I lay back, my head throbbing. “Re-air all sections.” Vax hit the switches on my console. No alarms sounded; Hiberniawas again airtight. Reserve oxygen from our recycling chamber brought all sections back to full pressure. I ordered our prisoners hauled to the brig.

“Darla, any damage?”

“Some of my corridor wiring is burnt out, Captain.” She hesitated. “I have backup channels for all circuits. Air reserves diminished by eleven percent. No other functional damage.”

It was over. “Thank God.” I slumped in my chair.

“Do you know how lucky we were?” The Pilot lurched to his feet. “You could have killed every man, woman, and child aboard! If they’d blown our air we’d be dead long before we reached Hope Nation. We didn’t have enough reserves!”

“Is that your opinion, Pilot?” Lethargic, I was sustained only by a cold knot of anger in my stomach.

“You endangered the entire ship! I insist that my protest be entered in the Log! I demand it, Captain!”

I snapped on the Log and spun it to face him. “Request granted. Enter your protest with your accompanying arguments.”

“Aye aye--sir!” He wrote savagely on the holovid screen.

I said nothing until he was finished. In a fury he dropped the holovid into my lap.

I read it through. “Do I understand that you protest my reckless disregard of the risk of losing our air, with the consequence of suffocating everybody aboard?”

“Yes! You could have repaired the holes they made, even to the outer hull. But you can’t manufacture air!”

“I want your protest made clear. Amend it, to say exactly that.”

“Fine with me!” He did so.

“Very well. The time of your protest is entered, along with the date and time of my response.” I began to write. “Cargo area forty-one B, east hold. Contents: 795 oxygen and nitrogen cylinders. Destination: Miningcamp.”

I tossed the holovid to the console. “We had enough oxygen in the holds to re-air the ship seven times over.” Ashen, the Pilot stared at the Log and his damning protest.

“Pilot Haynes, I adjudge you unfit to serve as an officer on Hibernia.I relieve you of all duties until such time as my opinion changes. Your rank is suspended. You now travel as supercargo. Until further notice you are confined to quarters except to use the officers’ head. Dismissed. Vax, escort him off the bridge.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“You can’t!”

“I just did. Out!” I thumbed the caller. “Infirmary, have Dr. Uburu stop at the bridge after she attends to the other wounded.”

20

Work parties were already measuring burned-out hatches for repair and replacement, while others swept debris flung about the Level 2 circumference corridor. On my growled, “As you were,” they ignored me.

The savagery of the battle and the vacuum in which it was fought had left few injured. Men were either well, or dead.

Bodies lay about, many in the unfamiliar white suits of the U.N.A.F. military. Three of our sailors were among them.

Sandy Wilsky’s charred corpse lay in the corridor near the airlock, mouth stretched wide in the rictus of death. His sightless eyes stared mute reproach. I made a sound. Closing my eyes, I recalled my billet at Academy on Luna, tried to transport myself there.

“Come with me, sir.” Vax Holser, quiet, solicitous. He touched my arm gently, then more firmly, led me away from the body. He put himself between me and the work parties to shield me from their view. “You’re all right, Captain.”

“No.” My eyes burned; my cheeks were wet. “I’m not.

I never will be. If I weren’t so stupid none of this would have happened. I killed him.”

Glancing about, to make sure no one saw, he brushed my forehead lightly with his open palm. “You’re all right, Captain,” he repeated gently.

I shivered. After a moment I drew myself together.