I whispered,”You’re sure there was nothing, Lieutenant?”

“Absolutely sure, sir.” He seemed anxious to get to his cabin. I could imagine how the night’s diary entry would read.

“I knew I could count on you.” I walked him through the lock. “Now we know the launch is safe, for the moment. I want you to check it again tomorrow.”

He went pale.

“Is something the matter?”

“But, sir,” he stammered. “We just disassembled all the seats. We know there’s no bomb there.”

I leaned close. “There isn’t now. During the night they might try to put one in.”

“Sir, that’s not--”

“We have to know for sure.” My voice grew cold. “Unbolt and disassemble all the seats again first thing tomorrow.

That’s an order.”

“But, sir--”

I was icy. “What does an officer say when he hears an order, Mr. Crossburn? Or didn’t your uncle tell you that?”

“Aye aye, sir! I’ll start again in the morning, sir!” He knew enough to retreat.

I returned to my cabin.

The next day I checked him at lunchtime. Again, seats were strewn all over the bay. I went to lunch, fueled by a grim satisfaction. I timed him; it took Lieutenant Crossburn just over twelve hours to tear down and reassemble all the launch seats. Having started just after breakfast, he was done by ten in the evening.

The next morning I was on the watch roster. Mr. Crossburn arrived, scheduled to share the watch. “Lieutenant, you’re relieved from watch. I have a more important job for you.

Tear down and recheck the launch seats.”

He stood slowly. “Captain, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I feel fine.” I stretched luxuriously. “Why do you ask?”

“You can’t want me to tear the launch apart three days in a row, sir.”

“Can’t I? Acknowledge your orders, Lieutenant.”

Stubbornly, he shook his head. “Sir, I insist that you put them in writing.” He spoke with confidence, knowing I would do no such thing.

“Certainly.” I snapped on the Log and took a laserpencil.

“I order Lieutenant Ardwell Crossburn to remove and disassemble all the seats on the ship’s launch and check them for hidden explosives before reinstalling them, as he has done each of the past two days. Signed, Nicholas Seafort, Captain.” I showed it to him. “Is that in proper form, Lieutenant?”

He was trapped. “Aye aye, sir. I have no choice.”

“True. You have no choice. Dismissed.”

Alone on the bridge I played chess with Darla. I was ahead on the fourteenth move when the caller buzzed.

“Sir, Lieutenant Chantir.” He sounded grim. “I have Mr.

Tamarov in my cabin with eleven demerits. I’m sorry, but I will need your written order before I proceed.” He was a decent man, and he’d had enough.

The moment was approaching. “Certainly, Lieutenant.

Come to the bridge at once.” When he arrived I handed him a paper. He glanced at it. “I protest your order, sir.”

“I understand. Carry it out anyway.”

“May I ask why, sir?”

“Tomorrow at dinner, if you still want to.” That puzzled him; he saluted and left the bridge. I lost my game to Darla.

That night before going to bed I stood again in front of my mirror. I didn’t like the face I saw. I told myself what I was doing was necessary, and didn’t believe a word of it.

Restless and uneasy, I left my cabin again. I passed Lieutenant Crossburn’s cabin, once Mr. Malstrom’s. On the spur of the moment I went to the infirmary. Dr. Uburu was there, reading a holovid.

“Good evening, Captain.” She saw my face. “What’s troubling you?” Only the Ship’s Doctor could ask the Captain such a question. Perhaps it was the reason I’d gone to her.

I slumped in a chair. “I’ve used a friend, manipulated him, and I’m disgusted with myself.”

“Yours is a lonely job,” she said. “Sometimes one can’t do directly what must be done. Is it for the good of the ship?” “I think so,” I said. “I’m not sure.”

“We’re seldom sure, Nic--Captain. If you believe it’s for the good of the ship, isn’t that enough?”

“Then why am I miserable?”

“You tell me.” It was a challenge, in its calm, quiet style.

I avoided it. “Because of my weakness, I guess. I wish I were wise enough to find another way.”

“I absolve you.” She smiled at me. “Sleep well tonight.”

“I don’t want a pill.”

“I didn’t offer one.” I started for the corridor. “I wish I could help you, Captain,” she said. “But you have to help yourself.” Puzzled, I went back to my cabin. I went to bed and slept peacefully.

In the morning I met Alexi and Derek at breakfast. Both studiously avoided my eye. At noon I took my place on the bridge. Vax Holser and I sat in silence. When the watch was done I thumbed the caller. “Mr. Tyre, bring Mr. Tamarov to the bridge.” Vax looked at me curiously.

The midshipmen arrived. “Permission to enter bridge, sir.” Philip Tyre’s voice was firm and vibrant. He snapped a smart salute.

“Granted.” They came to attention. “Darla, please record these proceedings. I, Captain Nicholas Seafort, do commission Midshipman Alexi Tamarov to the Naval Service of the Government of the United Nations and do appoint him Lieutenant, by the Grace of God.” Alexi was stunned.

Philip Tyre swallowed, his face ashen.

“Mr. Tyre, you are dismissed. Lieutenant Tamarov, you will remain.” With jerky motions Philip Tyre saluted, turned, and left the bridge. As soon as the hatch closed Vax leaped up with a whoop. He pounded Alexi on the back.

“Easy, Mr. Holser, you’ll kill him!” Vax’s brotherly blows could break ribs.

“Congratulations, Alexi!” Vax turned to me with a wide grin. “It’s wonderful news, sir.” Alexi didn’t move.

“You’re free, Alexi,” I told him quietly. “Free of him.”

“Am I?” Alexi spoke without inflection. “Will I ever be?” Unbidden, he sank into a chair, wincing. He began to sob.Shocked, Vax withdrew a step. I motioned him to wait in the corridor.

After a time Alexi gained control of himself. “Why did you leave me there so long?”

“So you’d be sure.” I despised myself.

“Of what?”

“I already have three lieutenants; you won’t be overwhelmed with duties. I’m putting you in charge of the midshipmen. Put things back in order.”

He thought about it. Silence stretched for over a minute.

“Don’t,” he said in a small voice. “I beg you; don’t put me in charge of him.”

“It’s done. Those are your orders.”

“I swore an oath to myself, Mr. Seafort. I won’t be able to stop.”

“I wanted you to be certain whom you were dealing with.” I stood. “So I waited until it was absolutely clear. Perhaps too long. I’m sorry, if that’s any use.” I was too ashamed to meet his eye, so I paced, my eye traversing the bulkheads.

“It’s a long cruise home. I have the welfare of the other midshipmen to consider. Keep them safe, Alexi. Do what you must.”

He put his head in his hands, then rubbed his face. He offered a tentative smile. “Sorry, sir. I’ve been a bit...

emotional lately. It’s like waking from a nightmare.”

“I know what that’s like,” I said. “Believe me.”

28

The next day I called the engine room to give Chief McAndrews private instructions. Then I summoned Mr. Crossburn and handed him a written standing order to disassemble and inspect the launch seats every day until further notice.

He looked around wildly, as if for escape. “Captain, I

can’t do that. Not all day, every day!”

I was inflexible. “You can and you will.”

“I protest, Captain!”

“Noted. Begin your work.”

“No, that’s crazy!”

“What did you say?”

“I said no! You can’t mean it.”

“Mr. Crossburn, come with me.” I led him, protesting, down the ladder to the engine room, to the lower level at the fusion drive shaft. The plank I had ordered the Chief to make ready was set across it; Mr. Me Andrews stood by, his face a

grim mask.

“Stand at attention and look at the shaft.” Crossburn did so.