“She’s your mother!”

From the hatchway, a quiet voice. “She was once.” Paula.

Her eyes roved among us. “Are you all right, Jared?”

“I--yes, I think so.” Her father seemed uncertain.

“Captain, sir?”

“I’m not hurt.”

She took two steps in, halted. The rebuke in her face pinned Jared to the bulkhead. “Why did you break Ricky’s arm?”

“He tried to get away, and I needed--”

“The poor joey is hunched in the corridor, crying. He won’t go to the Doc until Mr. Seafort is safe. Nobody wants to hurt Ricky. He’s too good-natured. How could you?”

“I--” No words came.

She faced me, came to attention. “Sir, Mr. Tyre said you had a question for me?”

“Do you want me to annul your enlistment?”

“No, sir.”

Her gaze, when it met her father’s, held pity, and something more stern. “I’m sorry, Jared, really I am. But it isn’t the way you thought it was.”

My mouth was dry. They wouldn’t be leaving Hiberniawith their father. That meant his attention would be turned to me. So be it. “Cadets, you’re dismissed.”

Paula saluted, turned to the hatch. Rafe clumsily imitated her motions. Seated, I couldn’t return salute; instead, I nodded.”Before you go... “I was proud of them, and probably wouldn’t have another chance. “You’ve done well. This isn’t your fault. No matter what happens--” It was the wrong line. I cleared my throat, and tried again. “The Navy will take care of you. That’s all.”

“Yes, sir.” Paula hesitated. “May I?” I nodded. “Jared, I’m sorry. For hurting you, for Irene, for all of us. Please don’t make it worse.” Another salute, and she was gone. Her brother followed.

A hand, on the back of my neck. I flinched, steeled myself.

“There’s nothing left. Except you.” Treadwell’s voice was ragged. “At least I can see that you don’t ruin any more lives.”

“Yes.” I raised my head, exposing my throat. “If I...”

After a moment, he said, “Well?”

My voice was unsteady. “If I come for you, afterward.

It’s just a dream. Sooner or later, I’ll go away.”

“Lord God.” A whisper.

Then a sob.

Eventually I lowered my head. It was beginning to cramp.

Vax smoldered; I did my best to ignore him. After a while I gave up. “Get it said, Lieutenant.”

“How could you let him go!”

“You’d rather I hanged him? And then ate at mess with his children?”

“He threatened you with a knife!”

“I’m unhurt. He’s groundside, so’s Irene, and the matter is closed.”

Vax shook his head with stubborn negation. “If I may say so, you--”

“No, that’s enough. I understand you disapprove.”

Vax subsided, muttering.

Earlier, in the quiet of the lounge, I’d picked up the knife Jared Treadwell had let fall, tossed it aside. Half a dozen steps saw me to the hatch. “It’s all right, Mr. Vishinsky.

Dismiss your detail.”

“Sir, is he--”

“Help him remove his things from his cabin, and escort him to the lock.” I turned to Ricky. “You’ll be all right, boy. To the sickbay. Now.”

“Aye aye, sir. Did he hurt--Captain, I’m sor--”

Philip Tyre snapped, “Cadet, two demerits. About-face, march! When the Captain gives an order, jump. I’ll deal with you in the wardroom!”

I managed to hold my tongue until Ricky was out of sight.

Then, “Mr. Tyre, you argued with your Captain, twice!” I shook with fury. “My compliments to Lieutenant Chantir, and tell him I’m displeased--no, tell him I’m thoroughly disgusted--with your conduct, and he’s to correct it forthwith!”

Philip blanched. “I didn’t mean--aye aye, sir!”

“Go!”

After, I leaned against the bulkhead. Rafe and Paula were in quarters, the master-at-arms with Jared Treadwell, Ricky having his arm attended. Philip had gone to his chastisement.

I stopped at my cabin, changed my shirt, sat awhile on my starched .blanket.

My life had been at risk, and I felt nothing. Well, perhaps not quite that. When the knife had fallen, I’d felt relief. But not much.

I’d think about that later. Time to return to the bridge.

From my seat beneath the blank screens, I reviewed the Log. Mr. Chantir had recorded a caning. Philip Tyre was banished to the wardroom. I sighed. Now more than ever, the boy would lash out at his juniors. And of all of them, Derek had been pressed the hardest.

I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Carr to the bridge.”

A few moments later Derek appeared, his uniform immaculate, hair brushed neatly. “Yes, sir?”

I indicated the chair next to Vax. “I need you tonight, Mr. Carr. Assist Mr. Holser. A double watch.” Absolutely unnecessary, docked at an orbiting station.

“Aye aye, sir.” Derek knew better than to question orders.

I could say nothing to explain. Abruptly his eyes flooded with gratitude, as he realized I was keeping him out of Philip Tyre’s reach.

“Mr. Carr has had a hard day, Lieutenant. If he dozes, let him be.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Vax’s face lit. “We’ll manage.”

Satisfied, I went to bed.

The next day we began taking on passengers for Hope Nation and Earth, as well as cargo of metals and manufactured goods. I noticed from the manifest that we would carry the Detour Olympic team home to Earth for the decennial interplanetary Olympics. I suspected the exercise rooms would be well used.

“Aft line secured, sir.” Lieutenant Holser, at the aft airlock.

“Forward line secured, sir,” Lieutenant Crossburn, at the forward lock.

I tapped my fingers, waiting for the routine to play itself out.”Forward lock ready for breakaway, sir.”

“Aft lock ready for breakaway, sir.”

“Very well.” I blew the ship’s whistle three times. “Cast off! Take her, Pilot Haynes.”

In response to the Pilot’s sure touch, our side thrusters released jets of propellant, rocking us from side to side. We broke free.

Lieutenant Crossburn, on the caller. “Forward airlock hatch secured, sir.”

“Secured, very well.” I paced the bridge while the Pilot held our thrusters at full acceleration, speeding us ever farther from the station and Detour’s field of gravity. In two hours, we’d be clear enough to Fuse.

Our return voyage had begun. Seven weeks to Hope Nation, then the long grim journey home. Iwould endure it. I must. I settled into my chair to prepare coordinates.

At last, all was ready. “Engine room prepared for Fusion, sir.”

I looked to the Pilot, raising my eyebrows. He nodded.

“Fuse the ship.” I ran my finger down the screen and the drive kicked in. The stars faded from the simulscreen. We entered the subetheral realm of nonspace, sailing from Detour on the crest of the N wave we generated.

That evening at dinner I played host to several young members of the Olympic team. Though sociable and friendly, they seemed unimpressed by the honor of the Captain’s table.

They talked animatedly among themselves, including me on occasion merely out of courtesy. After months among passengers who’d taken seating at the Captain’s table so seriously, 1 found their attitude refreshing.

Later, restless, I wandered the ship, where excited passengers explored corridors, lounges, and exercise rooms they’d soon find all too familiar. I wandered back to Level 1. Outside the wardroom Rafe Treadwell stood at attention, his nose to the bulkhead. Well, he’d asked for it. Enlistment was his own choice.

I slept badly, still keyed up from the bustle of departure. I knew it would take days to settle back into the dreary routine of Fusion. Nonetheless, I haunted the bridge, with nothing to do.”Have you noticed the Log, sir?” Lieutenant Chantir pointed to the past two days’ entries. “Mr. Tamarov, sloth-fulness, three demerits, by Mr. Tyre. Mr. Tamarov, unclean-Mess, two demerits.”So it had started again. I snapped off the Log without comment, leaned back.

“How long will it go on, sir?”

I opened one eye. “Until I say otherwise, First Lieutenant Chantir.”