Article 23 (12 page)

"Cut the child's play,
Everett, this is serious," Wendell snapped.

"Oh but it is serious, though nothing to be afraid of."

"Are you implying I'm afraid?"

"Why, no such thing, old man, not at all."

Wendell stepped closer to Matt.

"If you're calling me a coward, wise-ass, then have die guts to do it straight out.
Typical off-
worlder
, a coward just like your buddies who took that ship."

Matt stopped grinning.

"First of all, stupid, they're not cowards."

Justin groaned, half-tempted to simply clobber his friend.

"Sneaking up and stealing a Fleet ship.
MacKenzie
was
right,
they're no better than pirates and deserve execution."

"We don't know the whole story," Matt shot back. "There might have been a justifiable reason for taking that ship."

"Remember what
Thorsson
said," Justin tried to interject, "no accusing or arguing about"

Matt put a hand out and pushed Justin aside.

"And another thing.
If you
wanna
talk about executing you better be ready to do something about it. There might be friends of mine in that group and no one talks about killing a friend of mine and gets away with it. Death comes too easy out in space as is," Matt hesitated for an instant and then forged ahead, "especially when folks are given cheap equipment and then sent out to die. That's damn close to murder as far as I'm concerned."

"Hey, what the hell is going on in here?"

The group looked up to see Senior Cadet
Petronovich
in the doorway, hands resting on hips.

"Turn that damn music down!"

Leonov
, who was closest to the computer, leaned back and hit the switch to shut it down.

"Now I want a straight answer what gives in here? You could hear shouting half-way down the corridor."

"Oh, nothing, sir,"
Madison quickly interjected. "
Everett here was just telling one of his jokes."

Petronovich
eyed her suspiciously. His gaze fell on Colson.

"Mr. Colson, is that true?"

Wendell hesitated for a moment. There was the code, of course, but the mere fact that he hesitated almost seemed to Justin to be a violation in and of itself. "Just a joke, sir," he finally replied coldly.

"All of you are on report, double watch tonight for skylarking around when you should be checking out your safety gear. I want everyone in here suited up in five minutes flat and ready for inspection."

He turned and walked away.

"Thanks a lot," Wendell hissed, "my first punishment detail ever thanks to you."

"No problem at all," Matt replied with a smile.

"Enter."

Justin slipped the door open, moving a bit clumsily due to his anti-radiation suit.
MacKenzie
was at his computer, the screen displaying a mass of static. Without waiting for orders Justin snapped the dinner on the table and stepped back.

MacKenzie
finally stirred and looked up.

"We are cut off, Mr. Bell."

"Sir?"

MacKenzie
pointed at the computer. "Totally cut off. Ever read Coleridge, cadet?"

"My grandfather read some to me."

'Alone, alone, all alone, alone on a windswept sea,'
"
MacKenzie
intoned somberly. "Like the ancient days at sea. From the moment you weighed anchor till the chain rattled back down a captain was alone, the deck of his ship the entire span of the universe he controlled. Not like today, with some fat-butted bureaucrat of an admiral barking orders at you from seventy-five million kilometers away. He, safe in his office on Earth, most likely never stood a watch alone a hundred million kilometers from home. Never stood alone"

His voice trailed off.

Justin waited, knowing better than to stir or offer a comment in return.

"This is as it was, as it should be,"
MacKenzie
said softly. "Forty years I've served, only as captain of a light cruiser, but still I served loyally while others far
more glib
and far better connected maneuvered behind me, gaining the rights and power that should be mine. But here
here
I am the power as it was and as it should be."

Sighing, he stood up and slowly moved to the table, walking as if his anti-radiation suit was the burden of a martyr. He sat down, leaning over to noisily sip his soup through a straw.

"This crisis, this separatist movement, never would have started if they had listened to me and other line officers. We were out there, patrolling the edges, watching the riffraff move in and take over. We protested and we tried to enforce the laws, but the bleeding-heart do-gooders at headquarters always blocked us. Men like your
Thorsson
."

Justin shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to voice a protest in defense of a man whom he considered to be his friend as well as his commanding officer. But, sensing that now was not the time, he dutifully remained silent.

"Even with my back turned I know you don't like what I said, Mr. Bell. A good Captain can sense such things.
The way you drew your breath in.
Do you have something to say to me,
Bell?"

"No, sir."

MacKenzie
chuckled softly. "Now I remember the name. Your father served under me. Not much older than you, then.
Rare, an honest lad.
Died well from what I heard. You must have inherited his traits. Blood will tell, Mr. Bell, it always does."

"Thank you, sir."

"
Your
Thorsson
.
Norwegian.
Not British, not American like you or me. The United Nations allowed such to gain power. How we ever agreed to the creation of the United Space Military Command, even if it was chartered and designed by us; well,
it's
madness. They're the ones who allow these separatists to flourish. Out on the edge
it's
lawlessness, anarchy. I know, Mr. Bell, I know
And
his voice drifted off into silence.

So much was being said that Justin barely had time to sort out all the implications of
MacKenzie's
onesided
conversation before the Captain started again.

"I think, Mr.
Bell, that
this separatist crisis is deeper, more insidious than any are willing to admit. I know I've heard the traitorous utterances, even in the halls of the highest command. I tell you,
Bell, there is only one thing holding humanity together and that is the Service."

"Yes, sir," Justin replied, feeling that at least there was one thing he could agree with.

"We, the line officers, must take a stand. If not, those lily-livers back on Earth, in league with the traitors with whom they make believe they are negotiating but are really secretly helping they will destroy us all. A firm hand,
Bell, a very firm hand, that's what's needed. Don't you agree?"

Justin hesitated for a second.

"A captain commands his ship," Justin replied, hoping that his noncommittal answer would be viewed as support.

MacKenzie
turned and looked Justin in the eyes.

"Have you read the book I assigned?"

"The first few hundred pages, sir," Justin replied, stretching the truth slightly. There were parts of the story he enjoyed, especially the details about how the old sailing ships and whalers operated, but the deeper stuff was throwing him off and he had skimmed entire chapters.

"Ahab saw the evil behind the mask,"
MacKenzie
said. "'Others could not, but he did."

He smiled. "It is the thing behind the mask I chiefly hate.

"There's much to be learned there, much indeed. I'll need you to finish reading that, Mr. Bell, by tomorrow night if you please."

Justin inwardly groaned.
"Yes, sir."

"Have you heard anything,
Mr. Bell?"

"Heard anything, sir?"

MacKenzie
leaned forward.

"Inappropriate things.
Dirty secrets, the little glimmers that evil can not conceal and which reveal what is hidden behind the mask. I know, Mr. Bell, I know about such things, oh indeed I do."

"No, sir, nothing, sir."

"You're a fool then,
Bell,"
MacKenzie
snapped.

He remained silent again for a moment and then ever so gradually a smile crossed his face.

"Any stray talk. A slip of the tongue, or a dark and dirty secret shared with someone you think is a friend, Mr. Bell?"

"No, sir, nothing, sir."
Justin replied, trying to not let his voice betray just how nervous he was. Somehow he was convinced that
Golson
had been spreading stories about Matt and the Captain was now looking for confirmation.

"Perhaps you need a lesson,
Bell, perhaps everyone does. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Justin backed out of the room and started down the corridor.

"Mr. Bell?"

Surprised, Justin looked up and saw Doctor
Zhing
standing in the doorway of his cabin.

"Come in here, son,"
Zhing
announced loudly, I want to check your dose meter."

Justin stepped into the room, a bit confused because a quick glance to the tag on his chest would have shown that so far his exposure had been less than half a
rad
.

Zhing
peeked out into the corridor then slid the door shut. He made a display of leaning over to check the meter,
then
motioned for Justin to stand at ease.

"How are you, son?"

"Fine, sir.
No problem. The suit's a bit clumsy but we'll get used to it."

"What did you and the Captain talk about? I see you going in there every evening."

"I've been assigned as his steward for dinner," Justin said.

"Why?"

"I don't know, sir. Guess it was just the luck of the draw. O'Brian sent me down with dinner the first night and the Captain asked that I serve him for the remainder of the voyage."

"Good, that means he trusts you, at least for now."
Zhing
hesitated. "The same way he seems to trust young Mr. Colson."

"Sir?"

"Oh, the Captain knows the family and its connections. Your Mr. Colson has a powerful family, he does. When the Captain first saw the roster he recognized the name immediately."

"Sir, we're all cadets on this trip," Justin replied, curious about
Zhing's
comment. "Of course we can be trusted."

To his surprise
Zhing
leaned over, switched on the computer and dialed in some music.

"Did he talk to you at all about secrets?
Or about the separatists?"

Justin wasn't sure how to respond.

"Son, as medical officer on this voyage I have the right to any information that might impact on my duty to monitor the health of this crew," he hesitated for a moment then dropped his voice to a whisper, "and that includes the Captain."

Taken aback Justin didn't know how to reply. He suddenly wished that
Thorsson
or his grandfather were here. This entire situation was not shaping up to what he had expected the service to be. Somehow, whenever he was done talking to
MacKenzie
he left feeling unclean, as if there were something wrong that he should feel guilty about but wasn't quite sure what.

"Sir, I'm not sure, sir," Justin replied.

"I'm concerned, Bell. I've served four cruises on this ship with that man. I retire in less than a year. Just a few more runs," he said dreamily, "just as long as I don't run afoul of that man."

The way he said "that man" surprised Justin; there was a note of disdain, but his eyes betrayed a look of fear.

"Sir.
He talked about the separatists and how he doesn't like them."

Zhing
laughed coldly. "Has reason not to. You know about his wife, don't you?"

Justin shook his head.

"She left him some years ago.
Messy situation.
What with him gone for months, years at a time.
It happens a lot in the service."

Justin thought of his own mother, the memories of when he was a boy and his father was shipping out.
The long months of waiting, the anxiety and fears.
But she was always there for him when he returned. He wondered how such a blow would affect a man and how he would learn to live with it afterwards.