“Then we’ll show you the town.”

“I don’t suppose you have any Naval personnel about?”

“Not a one,” Governor Fantwell said cheerfully. “Nary a seaman. Are you shorthanded?”

“There’s a billet I wanted filled.” My own. But I’d known there was no Naval station on Detour and wasn’t surprised.

City Hall was a plain, metal-sided building in the center of town. I could tell immediately it was City Hall; a large sign hanging over the door said so. In other respects it was exactly like all the surrounding structures.

Seated at a table draped with a fancy cloth and festooned with bright silverware I said quietly to the Governor, “Actually, I came to talk to you before dumping a problem in your lap. Yours and the judge’s.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. I wondered if any problem I brought could faze him. “Just a sec. Let me get Carnova.”

He beckoned across the hall to a rugged man who promptly joined our table. “What do you propose to dump on us?”

I told them briefly about the Treadwell situation. “I’ve decided to let the boy enlist, and the parents will explode when they hear. They raised quite a ruckus on Hope Nation.”

“This isn’t Hope,” Judge Carnova said bluntly. “We do things differently. The Navy isn’t under my jurisdiction. I won’t even give them a hearing.”

“I’ll back you up,” the Governor told him. He turned to me with an easy smile. “You see? Your problem is solved.”

I fiddled with a fresh fruit cup. Oranges and grapes, kiwi, bananas, and other fruits I couldn’t identify. “I wish everything were that easy.”

“Tell me,” said the Governor. “Is it that I’m getting older, or are you rather young for a Captain?”

I sighed and launched into the familiar explanation.

27

After returning to my ship I summoned Rafe Treadwell to the bridge. He entered hesitantly, his apparent calm betrayed by the fingers twisting at his shirt.

“I’m prepared to enlist you.”

“Thank you.” His shoulders slumped. “I was afraid you’d change your mind at the last minute.”

“Sit at the console. Write a note to your parents telling them you’ve enlisted voluntarily. Give them your reasons.

As soon as you’re done I’ll give you the oath.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Before you do, I have to warn you. Conditions are, uh, rather strained at the moment. You’ll be subjected to unusually intense hazing, even for a cadet.”

He swallowed. “Yes, I’ve heard.” Of course, his sister would have told him. He bent to the console and typed his note.

After I administered the oath I thumbed my caller. “Mr.

Tyre, bring Mr. Tamarov to the bridge.”

A few moments later they appeared. Alexi was heavily flushed and breathing hard; I must have interrupted a session in the exercise room.

“Mr. Tyre, I’m seconding Mr. Tamarov for special duties for two days. He’ll guard our new cadet until we leave port.

Kindly release him from your other requirements.”

“Of course, sir.” Tyre smiled pleasantly. “Will they stay in the wardroom?”

“Not until we leave Detour.” Knowing the Treadwells, I would take no chances, even in orbit far above the planet. I ordered Alexi and Rafe Treadwell bunked in the crew’s privacy chamber on Level 3. Alexi couldn’t conceal his relief at escaping Mr. Tyre, however briefly.

Tyre appeared not to notice. “I’ll help them move, sir,”

he said. “Can I do anything else to be useful?”

I sent them away, reflecting on the irony. Other man an insane desire to destroy his subordinates, Philip Tyre was an excellent midshipman, eager, helpful, diligent at his studies.

I was sure he felt no guilt for the torture he inflicted.

I made a gesture of disgust. Imagine Derek standing regs, at his age. Ridiculous. I wondered how Philip had passed the psych interviews, and how he’d been dealt with as a cadet.

Had he been brutalized? Not that it would be the slightest excuse for his own behavior. Still, I wondered.

At dinner Lieutenant Crossburn asked, “You’re keeping the Treadwell boy on board?” I braced; obviously his question was but a preliminary.

“Yes.” Another affair for him to probe.

“I could be of assistance with the senior Treadwells, sir.

That is, when they find out their son isn’t going ashore.”

I could imagine Crossburn helping with the Treadwells.

Asking how they felt, for instance, to record their reactions in his little diary.

“No thank you. I’ll attend to it.”

“How many enlistments without parental consent do you think the Navy’s seen, sir?” His eyes were guileless.

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Crossburn.” My rebuke, too, would find its way into his record. I didn’t care. I was tired, lonely, perturbed by the effect my new officers had on the crew. I missed Amanda, and in a few weeks I’d pass tantalizingly close to her one last time. That would be almost too much to bear.

I thought of home. Perhaps Father would take me back, after I was forced to resign. He would say nothing, of course.

That was his way.

As my watch ended, our first departing passengers were crowding into the small shuttles that serviced Detour Station.

Several trips would be required to accommodate them. The Treadwells were due to leave in the morning; tonight they would surely notice their son’s absence. I went to bed wishing I knew how to avoid the forthcoming row.

I woke to a commotion in the corridor. I thrust on my pants and flung open the hatch, peered to the east. Irene Treadwell, trying unsuccessfully to twist free from Vax Holser’s firm grip.

She caught sight of me. “Tell this brute to let me go!”

“You aren’t allowed up here, ma’am,” Vax said. He flashed me a glance of apology. “She was trying to get into the wardroom, sir.”

“Where’s my son?” Ms. Treadwell’s voice rose. “What have you done to Rafe? I went looking for him and he’s nowhere to be found! Are you stealing my other child?”

“We’re not steal--”

“Are all of you people crazy?” At last she freed herself and rubbed her reddened wrist. “I tried the purser but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I went to the lounge and Rafe wasn’t there. I tried the wardroom--yes, I know I’m not supposed to--and a big boy was on a chair hi his undershorts reciting a book! He didn’t even stop; they just closed the door on me! What have you done with my Rafe?”

I thought of sending for Lieutenant Crossburn. I took my holovid, slipped Rafe’s chip into it. “Go back to your cabin and read this.”

“Does it say you’ve taken Rafe? You monster!” Her scream echoed down the corridor. “Not my boy! You can’t!”

“Lieutenant, take her away!” I tried to close my hatch but she blocked it with her foot. Vax hauled her into the corridor.

I closed the hatch quickly, leaned against it until the shouting died away. My limbs felt weak. I climbed into bed, lay wide awake.

How often were similar scenes played out, back on Earth? When the origins of melanoma T were understood and the Navy lowered cadet enlistment age to thirteen, did parents face the loss of their children without qualms? How many mothers reacted with hysteria like Irene Treadwell? The Navy required consent from but one parent. I thought of my own host mother, in Devon, whom I’d never seen. What did she look like? Would she have cared? I tossed fitfully until early morning, then dressed and went to the officers’ mess for breakfast. I sat at the long table, alone except for Lieutenant Chantir, and sipped coffee while waiting for my scrambled eggs and toast. Other officers drifted in, found places. I picked at my food.

“I hear there was a ruckus outside your hatch last night.”

Lieutenant Crossburn took a seat alongside me.

“Urn.”

“Mrs. Treadwell was on the first shuttle down this morning.” A pause. “They say when she went to court in Hope Nation you tried to throw the judge in jail.” Crossburn took a forkful of his eggs.