Penance (RN: Book 2) (29 page)

Canthouse looked momentarily caught off guard as he stared at the engineer, “Make it quick, Chief.”

“How’s the commander? No one’s heard anything for some days and we’re all a bit curious.”

The first officer moved awkwardly as wanting to avoid the issue, “Unfortunately, I have little to report on the commander’s state. He’s alive and the doctor says he’s physically well. He’s still taking his meals, but as to how he is emotionally or mentally I can’t say. I tried to visit but the doctor advised against it, so I’ve no real idea.”

“Well, if you do get the chance, if you could pass on our regards, we’d appreciate it.”

“I will, Chief.” He nodded his appreciation of the gesture. “Now as I said, I initially wanted to hold this meeting tomorrow, but an unfortunate event has demanded it be brought forward. Oh! There’s something I’m forgetting. As you’re all aware I’m currently the Bristol’s only command officer, a station that is unable to be filled by one man and as such has been more than personally taxing. Mr Hewton has been filling in when I’m off duty, but the highly variable duties of the munitions and weapons systems demand the majority of his time, so it has been a matter of primary cause for me to locate a substitute command officer whose skills and experiences are up to the job. Long story short I’ve selected Marine Commander, Paul Palmer as my second officer. You all know and respect Paul, so his Marine seniority is just an added bonus.” Canthouse held a hand up on seeing the questioning looks. “Yes I know it’s unorthodox for a Marine officer to command a navy ship, but there are rights, and even precedents if you’d believe it. So without further adieu, Commander, Paul Palmer.”

Palmer remained where he was by the wall and accepted the cheery clapping of the small group with a smile and bob of the head.

As the men settled, the first officer appeared to fidget uncomfortably, his face somewhat ashen as he stood with his fanned hands pyramided against his stomach as he reviewed his tablet.

“Now, it’s sad to say that I have to follow some good news with some tragic, but unfortunately that’s the way it is. At 13:30 this afternoon, Senior Petty Officer, Christine Guimar was found dead in her quarters by her bunk mate. It appears she took her own life by pistol shot. Though there was a note, no clear reason has been found as to why she did this. However, the situation doesn’t appear to involve any other person and is not being treated as suspicious.”

The group hummed with concern, surprise and conjecture with several of the men raising their hands in question.

Stavener remained quiet with no show of interest or emotion. He slid down his chair and crossed his arms and stretched his legs in apparent imitation of Hewton, whose eyes were moist with what skin visible above his full beard tinged pink from emotion. Hewton slowly turned his great bear head and gave Stavener a murderous look. Stavener unfolded his arms and pushed upright again.

Canthouse raised a hand to quiet the concern, “Please, Gentlemen, I’m as shocked and stunned as everyone else. Despite a recent emotional outburst on the bridge, Guimar has always been a capable officer with an exemplary record and no history of any such problem during her tours preceding this one. She will be missed.”

A man raised his hand. Canthouse stared with concealed distaste at Michael Hunts, the enviromentals duty officer. Hunts was a thin scrap of a man with a huge Roman nose set high on a perpetually starved street urchin face set in countenance of eternal malignity, with a sloping forehead and no chin. He was a whining cringing man whose reputation for driving his people hard, a tendency to find fault and place blame had ensured that even after nineteen years of service, he had never risen above Petty Officer.

“Are you sure it was suicide?” Hunts said in a state of shrill disagreement. Canthouse closed his eyes at the idiot man’s outburst; he had purposely not used the word suicide for the baggage that came with it and the scandal that followed. “I mean. How many murders have there been on this ship? There was that munitions girl, and Hempsey and Cummings; now this? Is it those three monsters that killed them all that did this? What if they’re free! I think we should be told what’s happening with them.” His watery eyes were wide, his face gaunt and thin combed over hair bobbed over his bald palette as he nodded to goad the others into a response.

“There will be no incitement here, Mr Hunts!” Canthouse said in a low livid certainty.

“Then where are they?” Hunts said lowering his arm. “They were found five days ago and nothing’s been said about them since. How do we know we’re safe if we don’t know what’s happening and things like this keep occurring? I think we need to –“

“They’re dead!”

Every eye turned to Hewton and Canthouse looked destroyed. He stood like a statue, his face drained of all colour, thin lipped mouth hanging open and eyes fit to burst from their sockets at this most incredulous betrayal. Those present at the close of events in the small room had sworn, and had then been ordered, not to divulge what took place during the final acts of the mad men in that room when one of them appeared to have broken open some sort of chemical container and they had all asphyxiated. The official line was to be they were still being held there for trial on Trent, with each sworn man taking a turn to receive the delivered meals and allowing no one else in.

Hewton bowed in his seat with his fingers interlaced over his stomach and his head forward in mournful resignation. A single tear fell from within the vast facial hair to form a small damp spot on a grey uniform thigh. He slowly raised his head to reveal misery wet red eyes, a crimson face and beard beslobbered by spit and mucus.

“They killed themselves. They finished having their fun with the women and opened some sort of chemical device. Gassed themselves they did. The monsters. Gibbering like apes, they were. Hollerin’ and thumping themselves on the chest as they slung shit at the window, some of it their own. We couldn’t open the door and they’re still in there. Best place for them.”

He turned so he could see Hunts who drew back from his grizzly stare, “So they can’t be your killers as they’re dead, see. This sweet thing took her own life. Life being what it is on this ghost train.”

The room was still as Hewton pushed himself upright and moved to the door. “Tom!” Canthouse called after him as he left the room.

Canthouse turned to Palmer, “Paul if you could finish the briefing whilst I catch up with Mr Hewton.” He caught up with Hewton several meters down the narrow passageway. “Tom, wait!” he gripped a steel forearm to halt Hewton who appeared to swell with rage as he turned his misery to face him. Canthouse took a step back.

Hewton’s eyes burned like coals amongst the black mass of facial hair, his skin was crimson and his trembling frame a boiler fit to explode. But he realised his friend’s discomfort and the fire dimmed.

“What’s going on, Tom? We’ve experienced tragic crew deaths before, so why is this one affecting you so muc -”

“I knew her, LC.”

“
Guimar?
”

“Aye. I Knew her before the Bristol. Knew her like no other. She was a sweet, delicate thing looking for strength. But she was never careful …and my wife. I requested a transfer for a long duty, but she used her papi’s influence to follow me here, despite me begging her not to. And now this terrible thing has happened.” Hewton fell into a long despondent silence.

Canthouse simply stared, his face a collision of ambivalence, “I never knew.”

“No one did. What’s the point of a secret affair if people know, eh?” Hewton flushed from what he had said and added, “Sorry.”

Though he couldn’t spare him as a resource, Canthouse asked the only thing he felt he could, “Do you need some time?”

“just a little, sir. Just to get my head right.”

“Take what you need,” Canthouse managed a genuine smile of compassion for a man he very much respected.

Hewton nodded, only to pause as he turned away. “What’s going on, LC? Why are we jumping from worse to worse? What comes when we jump from this place?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Canthouse watched after his friend until he exited the corridor, and with the sounds of the conference room emptying he turned back. He waited until the men had filed past and approached Palmer who waited at the door. Palmer tiled his head to indicate someone remained inside, and both men entered to where Stavener sat pivoting his seat.

“Any luck?” Canthouse asked as he perched himself on the edge of the conference desk.

“He won’t do it,“ Stavener said. “He won’t go to the bridge or engineering for any reason.”

“Who won’t do what?” Palmer asked looking between the two men.

“I’m sorry. Paul this is …” He stared at Stavener, “I just realised I don’t know your first name.”

“It’s Tristram,” Stavener said.

“Paul this is Stavener, who, amongst other things, is our resident bandit expert and does something on the bridge.”

Stavener grinned satirically.

Palmer stared curiously.

Canthouse selected some data on his tablet and handed it to Palmer who studied as the first officer explained.

“To get you up to speed, The day we gated in here and realised what we were facing, I ordered the operations and engineering teams to find a way for us to see through this crap, but nothing worked. But then I remembered something the chief said in our last meeting, something about aligning magnetic fields to allow us to see. We tried every configuration we could think off but couldn’t get the maths to work, not even genius boy here,” Stavener tilted his head and scratched his temple in the manner of a dumb ape. “So I went to see him, but he completely blanked me. Not a word, no matter the coercion and it’s beyond me as to why. I sent Mr Stavener to speak to him, but he has apparently met with the same result.”

Stavener sat up in the chair, “He just refuses to acknowledge any responsibility to anyone but the commander. Says he’ll do it for him and no one else. Tells you to -
Go see young Penton, he’ll see you right
. If you try to order or threaten, he just slips into that world of his and you’ve lost him. He’s designed a kick arse medical scanner though.”

“So we have the answer but can’t access it?” Palmer asked quizzically. “Would you like me to speak to him?”

Stavener rubbed his eye as he said, “It’ll do no good as he just locks up to new faces.”

“So where does that leave us?” Palmer asked.

Canthouse pulled a chair from the table and reverse straddled it resting his arms on the back rest, “We have a few ideas, but the operable contender is using a launch as a manned probe to scout a path ahead, but there’s a whole bunch of problems related to this. Number one being the radiation. The launches have no shields so any crew will need to be suited up, but even then they get no more than two hours of protection and that’s
if
the radiation remains constant. I’ve asked engineering to harden the shuttle as much as possible and crew and launch preparations are under way.”

“Plus if we lose a shuttle we lose twenty percent of our life boat capability, and you know what we met the last time we ran into one of these clouds. If any of those super-fauna are trolling around the area then the shuttle will be doubly screwed. I personally believe this is what happened to the Dogfish.” Stavener said.

“You believe It was eaten?” Palmer said disbelievingly.

“If it was then I’m just glad we never launched it as a TOW device, as the last thing we want is one of those things following the fishing line back to the rod.” Canthouse said. “So, Paul, any ideas you can add to the pot will be gladly considered.”

Palmer nodded.

The men made to leave until Canthouse said, “Oh, and there’s another thing. With the loss of SPO, Guimar, we’ve now lost our entire original operations staff, which seriously reduces our operational effectiveness via experience. Stavener, I know you can handle the operations side, so you’re now an SPO and senior operations officer. Paul can fill in anytime he can with what he picked up from Guimar, but I need you to find others to fill the vacant slots and make sure they’re up to speed ASAP. Paul, same for you with the empty bridge command position.”

Palmer nodded thoughtfully. “I have some ideas.”

“I’m already an SPO. Can I be a Captain?” Stavener said.

“We need answers, so – “

Canthouse paused when he felt a low vibration through the souls of his feet. The other men felt it too, and they glanced about the room as the vibration increased to become a resonating tremor accompanied by a low hum that caused the chairs to ghost in circles and the water glasses to chatter on the table.

LC to the bridge. LC to the bridge.
The intercom blared.

Canthouse stood followed by the others, “So bring me something.”

The three men ran onto the bridge to see the Bristol in plan view on the tactical display. Multiple cyclones wandered around her near vicinity, but the disturbing thing was the screen wide shadow that crept up from the bottom of the screen to slowly engulf the rear of the hull.

DuRant the temporary operations officer gladly stepped aside to allow Stavener to sit down.

The entire bridge rattled and creaked with the hum growing to annoying levels as Canthouse found the command chair, “Report.”