Memory of Morning (3 page)

"Our Lord Admiral left this gift - booty from the pirate leader's own sea chest - as a token of thanks for the
'Runner's
taking the risky role in baiting the pirates," Captain Copper explained. "He said also that it was in thanks for the hospitality and fun we showed him hosting him aboard our ship during the battle. It would have been rude of me not to accept this gift for all the crew to share - starting with all those here," he added.

There were cheers, applause, and hearty thanks to Lord Admiral North. I joined in, but at the same time I was puzzled. I'd guessed that some of the Fleet Admiral's staff was on our ship, but hadn't realized we'd briefly hosted that illustrious man himself. How foolish of him, I thought. Aboard the
Moonrunner
was the most dangerous spot to be during that battle. The commander of an entire fleet had no business putting himself in harm's way like that.

Oh, well, some warriors enjoyed the smell of danger too much. It seemed this Lord North was as brave as our own Dane Copper.

Never mind the admiral, a greedy little girl part of my mind was shouting. My attention returned avidly to the jewels. Can I have a pretty one, please? I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, fighting the temptation to snatch the one I already had my heart set on from the pile.

"Gentlemen, ladies," the captain said. "Each of us will pick one, and only one, of these pretty things. The value of whatever is left will be added to the entire crew's prize markers." He looked around at all our avidly watching faces. "Fair?"

"Fair," we all echoed, even the cautious Dr. Swan.

Captain Copper turned his most charming smile on the youngest member of the crew. The boy blushed bright red. "Let us start with Midshipman Pine, shall we?"

Pine took a pale, milky moonstone. I was acquainted with his mother, and thought she would prefer the table-cut emerald, but the choice was the youngster's. And so it went, from youngest to senior officers each choosing a stone while the rest of us waited our turn.

I sat in rising tension and dread, hoping for the jewel I wanted and not knowing whether I would get it. The excitement nearly killed me. Our teasing captain knew and relished that we were all feeling this way. Delightfully wicked man!

I don't remember what everyone chose, but my prize remained on the table as one by one the choosing came toward me. I do recall Dr. Swan taking a star ruby. I was holding my breath eventually. Stars were shooting behind my eyes when I heard, "Dr. Cliff, what will you have?"

My breath came out on a gasp. I deserved the laughter that followed the sound. I laughed as well, but I grabbed the pearl. I held the pear shape of golden white nacre in my cupped palm and touched it delicately with an index finger, totally in awe of the beauty of the thing. Later, I was able to look at the pearl and simply smile with pleasure at its beauty, but at the time I was caught up in the moment and it seemed the most wonderful treasure in the world. And it was mine!

I grasped the pearl in my closed palm and looked around. I managed to say, "Thank you, Captain Copper. And thank Lord North, as well."

That was the last time I was going to be grateful to that man for a long time.

Chapter Three

My service was technically at an end when the
Moonrunner
docked at Seyemouth, but that didn't mean I wasn't busy though the ship was tied up at the dock. I could not simply walk down the gangplank any time I wished on that last day onboard. I had to finish my packing, first of all. Not of my personal effects, they were already stashed in my sea trunk. I did have to inventory and return every item issued to me by the Imperial Navy to the quartermaster. For example, the knifes, retractors, saws, and so on in my surgical case belonged to me, but the aprons, hair caul, and shoes I wore when I performed surgery belonged to the navy. I put on my one civilian daydress then turned in all the items of my contractor's uniform - sturdy black shoes, very wide-legged trousers, unadorned dark blue knee-length coat, tunic, belt, and vest. The outfit can be stifling in hot weather, nowhere near warm enough on a cold winter ocean. My mother had sent me to sea with a thick blue wool shawl - I'd be taking that lovely square of cloth home with me. Of course at the time she made the gift, I'd been all, "Oh,
Mother
, the navy will provide," and they had, but mother had proven to know best. The shawl as an extra blanket and a ship's terrier that had adopted me curled on my feet had granted me sleep on many a freezing night, as well as added warmth on long, cold watches.

Star was the ratter's name, small, tenacious, loving. I was already missing her, maybe even more than I was already missing the
Moonrunner's
crew. I could at least exchange letters in the future with the human friends I was leaving behind. Star trailed me that entire morning, though I had to leave her outside the door when I went into the surgery for my morning duty. I could hear her whining where she waited at the bottom of the stairway for me. Terriers are intelligent dogs. She knew something was going on. Besides, she had me totally wrapped around her pretty fuzzy brown paw, had since the moment she came up to me as a puppy and tugged on my brand new trousers with her sharp little milk teeth.

I tried to put Star out of my mind and concentrated on my work. And quite a lot of work there was. Along with patients still recovering from the battle and the normal cuts, scrapes, and coughs, it seemed every woman on board, though there are only twenty-eight altogether, wanted to see Dr. Cliff in particular. Not hard to guess why, either. Women like women doctors, especially when dealing with such matters as female complaints and birth control. I spent a great deal of time that day replacing vaginal sponges with new, freshly medicated ones. I told everyone that seeing them with their trousers down or skirts up was not how I wanted to remember my friends and fellow crew, and there was much laughter along with my giving the required speech to each one that this method of birth control was no guarantee against the dangers of sexually transmitted diseases.

I'd had quite enough of sex by the time I finally returned to the quarters I'd been sharing with four other women - the
'Runner
's three female officers, and the artist Erbesqe Flood, a contractor like myself. She was leaving as well, after spending her time on board drawing beautiful illustrations for a book commissioned by Naval Command. Erbesqe was in our quarters when I came in, accompanied by Star, of course.

The smile the artist turned on me was wistful. We hugged tightly. "I am so going to miss you," I told her.

"Well, we'll both be in and out of Seyemouth for the next few weeks," she reminded me. "The Navy isn't quite done with us yet."

"True," I said.

As I spoke, Second Officer Gate came in, accompanied by a lieutenant and a pair of able seamen I didn't recognize. The newcomer trio's uniforms were clean and fresh and pressed, so they must be from the Seyemouth base.

"This gentleman has come for your logs and papers, ladies," Mr. Gate announced.

Of course. I already had a pair of thick leather-bound journals waiting on top of my chest. I noticed that Erbesqe's journal and portfolio were on her chest as well. She and I exchanged a resigned look. We'd discussed how neither of us liked handing these treasures over to the Navy even for a little while, but this was part of our terms of service.

In my case the books contained the personal log every officer, petty officer, and contractor is required to keep of the voyage. They would be read, copied, and compared, and eventually returned - though I'd been told by experienced sailors that this promised return could sometimes be marked in years rather than the weeks that was stated in the regulations. I would not miss the journal if I never saw it again. I had been as careful as I could not to make any personal remarks about people and events. I had assiduously noted what had happened on each day and nothing more. The second journal, however, I very much wanted returned. This was my medical log, full to the edge of every page with details of the cases I had dealt with over the last two years. Everything I had learned was in that book and so many of those lessons had been very hard ones - all my successes and mistakes were noted. There were speculations and false hopes, trials and errors and tragedies and triumphs. This journal was important to me. But it was also important to the Navy. It was vastly important to whether or not I received my surgeon's certificate. Dr. Swan had signed the last page yesterday, proof that it was an authentic document. My teeth were gritted when I handed it over to the sailor that stepped forward to take it.

"Take care with it," I murmured.

"We certainly shall," the officer said. He looked at me gravely - suspiciously? "And these are all your writings, Dr. Cliff?"

"Interest is for the Navy to decide." When I didn't see fit to reply, he told the sailors, "Search Dr. Cliff's trunk."

I took an angry step toward my property, but managed to stop myself before I did anything rash. Civilian or not, I was well aware that it was not wise to argue with an Imperial officer. So, I bit my lower lip, crossed my arms, and put up with it. They came across my novel soon enough, written in tiny handwriting in a stamped red leather notebook my father had given me as a going away present. I called the story
Darnin Clover
and knew it to be an exercise in utter nonsense.

The officer thumbed through the closely written pages before giving me a puzzled look. "Is this a seaman's log?"

"Not at all," I replied carefully. "Have you heard of the concept of fiction? Of made-up tales that have no purpose but to entertain?"

"I have heard of the fashion," he replied.

"This is a poor effort at fiction," I said. I was shriveling with embarrassment as his puzzled gaze grew somewhat contemptuous. "I pretended to write the details of the life of an adventurous sailor. There is no truth in the tale."

"I see," he said, though I could tell he didn't. He added the red notebook on top of the brown ones the sailor was holding. Then he turned to go.

This time Mr. Gate had to grab me around the waist to keep me from going after the man. A stern look from his single eye was all that kept me from shouting to give me back my property.

"It'll come back to you," he whispered in my ear. "Don't worry your head about it."

My eyes burned with tears at the loss, at the shock of the loss, but I managed to listen to the Second Officer's wisdom. There was nothing else I could do, anyway. I would simply have to wait, and hope for
Clover's
return. I would also hope that whoever was assigned to reading the manuscript didn't find it too ridiculous and poorly executed. Perhaps they wouldn't be able to make out my poor handwriting and bits of personal shorthand. I prayed to the All that I wouldn't end up being the laughingstock of all Port Seyemouth before I saw my story again.

What was more distressing to me was that when the port official and his men were gone, Star was no longer in the room, either. How was I supposed to have a long goodbye cuddle with my dog when she wasn't there?

"Star?" I called. I looked around. "Star?"

Mr. Gate cleared his throat. "She's been taken below, Dr. Cliff. Returned to the kennel master."

There were more than a dozen dogs on board, and probably twice as many cats. Big, fierce fighting dogs that worked with the marines, terriers to clear out the vermin, guard dogs that patrolled on each watch. But none was as dear as my Star. Still, she belonged to the ship, not to me.

I did shed a tear this time, but I nodded my understanding. "Of course," I said.

Erbesqe put her arm through mine. "Come along, it is time we were going."

I knew she was more anxious to leave the
Moonrunner
than I, but that didn't make her any less right. I sighed, nodded, and left our cabin for the last time with her.

I don't know why I hadn't expected anyone to notice our leaving. How very foolish of me. And how very glad I was when we came onto the main deck to find the entire ship's crew lined up at attention to bid us a formal goodbye. The sky overhead was leaden gray, but the sun was shining brightly on Seyemouth as far as I was concerned.

In front of all the crew stood Captain Copper and Dr. Swan. Captain Copper was holding Star. Star was licking his chin, which didn't stop the captain from grinning at me ear to ear when our gazes met.

I will tell you that my knees nearly buckled when he turned that smile on me. But it wasn't for the first time, so I managed not to show the effect he had on me. I hope. More importantly, they were all there to give us a fond send off, as spit and polished as you please. My heart nearly burst with the love I felt for this crew, my crew, and this time I didn't even try to stop from bursting into tears.

The choir sang
The Hymn of Going.

When Captain Copper came forward and placed Star in my arms as my going away present, my bawling only became worse.

Chapter Four

It was a day of surprises. Not just for me, but for Star. The poor dog had never been on land. The moment I set her down on the dock she began to wobble on her short, sturdy legs. I couldn't help but laugh when she sat down and looked up at me with a glance that said,
What have you done to me?

I laughed and picked her up, even though bending over was a bit daunting as I was shaky being on land myself. I held Star up in front of me and told her, "Don't expect to be carried around like a princess on a pillow all the time, you'll get used to it."

Then I looked past the terrier and saw - my family approaching!