“Yes, sir?”
“Dress yourself. Go to crew quarters. Wake the master-at-arms . Have him bring an escort to the wardroom, flank.
“As for you, Vax, you are under arrest.”
“Aye aye, sir.” Sandy was so nervous his voice soared into the upper registers. Frantically, he began throwing on his clothes.
Alexi, dressed, headed for the hatch. Vax grabbed his arm in a huge hand. “Nick, call it off. This is a wardroom matter.
Settle it here, among us!”
I had him.
“It’s too late, Vax. You ignored my order. Let go of Alexi.” I lay motionless, under my covers.
“Hold off, Nick. Talk it through.” He hesitated.
“Please.” Vax knew that I’d throw away my career if the two junior middies went on their errands. He also knew that he himself now faced court-martial and almost certain imprisonment in the brig, if not summary dismissal from the Navy.
I made my tone reluctant. “Alexi, Sandy, sit down.” I turned to Vax. “I’ll turn the clock back, Mr. Holser. Twenty push-ups.”
He stared, trying to read me. I looked away. I didn’t care what he thought he saw in my face. Apparently my indifference convinced him; he got down on the deck. “We’ll settle this later, Nick.” It was a growl.
“Yes, we will.” I spoke with confidence I didn’t feel.
He gave me twenty push-ups. Good ones, like the Academy taught in basic. At the end he got up on one knee.
“Now twenty more.” This time I stared him straight in the eye.Having given in the first time he had little choice. Rigid with fury, he did twenty more push-ups.
“Thank you.” I looked at the two junior middies. “Back to bed, you two.”
Neither dared say a word. Vax was still a potent force in their lives. He stood up and yanked on his clothes. “It’s a good time for a walk, Nicky,” he spat. “Care to join me?”
At that moment I regretted not letting him order Sandy in and out of bed all night, if he wished. Vax was twenty kilos heavier, a head taller, and a lot stronger than I was. And two years older, as well. I was about to get the tar beaten out of me, and I had no choice but to go through with it. I got out of bed and put on my pants, socks, and shoes. I didn’t put anything over my undershirt; no point in ruining a dress shirt or jacket.
We strode in silence to the passenger exercise room on Level 2. At that hour, past midnight, it was deserted. He went in first.
I knew the best thing was to circle while he stalked me, and try to avoid his lunges. He knew I knew that. So the moment I was through the hatchway I hurled myself straight at him, fists flailing at his face. I got in a few good licks before he got his cover up and held me off. I backed away.
He came at me, livid with anger. I backed away again. He drove at me faster, and again I went right at him, hammering.
He caught me a good one on the side of the head that made me dizzy, but momentum carried me past his guard and I was all over him, pounding at his stomach, chest, jaw. Then I unexpectedly dropped down and rolled away.
He was disconcerted, as I wanted him to be. My only chance was to do what he least expected. He came at me warily this time, guard up. I went into karate position. He did the same. We both feinted. I fended him off, but he steadily advanced, pushing me toward the corner. I had no choice but to retreat.
The next few minutes were bad. He got in a lot of blows, knocking me down, slapping my head back and forth, slamming me into the partition, raining punches on my chest and arms. I wasn’t strong enough to hold him off so I concentrated on convincing him he was hurting me more than he really was. It wasn’t easy, because he hurt me plenty.
I staggered, apparently semiconscious, blood flowing freely from my nose and mouth. My legs buckled. He grabbed under my arms with both hands, holding me as I sagged. It was what I’d waited for. I drove my fist into his crotch with all the strength I could muster.
Vax bent over in reflex, let go to clutch himself. I backed away, wiping blood off my face. Damn, he could hit. Vax leaned against the bulkhead, his eyes half shut, face white.
My arms ached from the pounding they had taken. I didn’t have strength left to hit hard. So, clasping my hands together, I bent and, like a battering ram, ran straight at him. My shoulder smashed into his side. He went down. So did I. He was a rock.
Vax scrambled to his feet, a murderous look in his eye, fists clenched. I got up, put my head down, and rammed him again. This time he bounced off a bulkhead. My shoulder was numb. We both staggered to our feet. His nose bled from his impact with the bulkhead. I lunged again. He had both hands out, and fended me off. I put my shoulder down and dug in, straining to ram him.
“Wait!” His breath came hard.
I backed off. “Prong yourself, joey.” I lowered my head and charged. He tried to knee my face, but was too slow. I butted him in the stomach and he toppled over. I wondered if I had broken my neck. After a moment I managed to get up. So did he.
“Enough!” Vax covered his stomach with both hands, I leaned against the partition, trying not to black out. “Truce.” He held up his hand as if pushing me off. Iwaited, trying to catch my breath enough to answer. “I can’t take you, Nick. And you can’t take me. Truce.”
“No.” I drove at him again. I didn’t have much left but he was too busy clutching his aching ribs to fight back. He slid down to the slippery deck, then pulled himself back up.
“For God’s sake, Nicky, enough! Neither of us wins.”
I nodded. “Lay off Sandy,” I gasped. “You’re hazing too hard.”
“Hazing’s part of it.”
“Not that much. Haze him some, but lay off when I say.”
He nodded reluctantly. “All right. Deal.”
“I’ll leave you alone,” I said. “And you don’t look for trouble with me.”
“Deal.” He swallowed. Cautiously, he tried letting go of his stomach.
“And you don’t call me Nick in the wardroom.” If I didn’t get it this time, I’d never have another chance.
“No.” He looked stubborn. “Not that.”
I launched myself at him. He put out both arms to block me but my charge knocked him into the bulkhead. Instead of backing off I rammed him with my shoulder again and again, thumping his ribs and back. I wasn’t doing much damage but he was too exhausted to deck me.
My vision went red. I heard grunting, his or mine, as I felt myself slip into total exhaustion. Then I became aware that he held both my arms in his big hands, holding me at arm’s length away from his body. I was braced against the deck, straining to get at him.
“Truce,” Vax said again. “Truce--Mr. Seafort.”
I slumped back. “Name?” I managed.
“Your name is Mr. Seafort.” He didn’t look at me with fondness, but his expression held a wary respect I hadn’t seen before.
“Truce,” I agreed.
We staggered out of the room and back up to Level 1, neither saying a word. I went directly to the shower. I stood under the warm spray, watching my blood swirl down the drain to the recycler in the fusion drive chamber below. I didn’t pretend I was victorious.
I had survived. It was enough.
5
To my surprise, the greatest change in the wardroom wasn’t how Vax acted toward the other middies. He remained surly to them, and they were still cautious in his presence. It was not in how Vax acted toward me. He spoke to me as seldom as possible and rarely used my name, but when he did, it was Seafort and not Nicky.
No, the biggest difference was in how the other juniors acted toward me. Because I’d stood up to Vax and survived I was unquestionably in charge as far as they were concerned, and they were eager to win my approval.
Alexi in particular seemed to undergo a case of hero worship. He and Sandy straightened my bunk, crease-ironed my pants along with their own, and showed me unexpected deference. Though I tried hard not to let it show, I loved it.