Children of Hope (17 page)

I balanced on the cusp. It was so easy to be certain, speaking with Tad. Now, at the moment of truth …

“I can’t say, sir.” There. And it wasn’t even a lie.

“Why did you try to kill me?”

“No reason that would matter.”

“It’s all right to tell me. I won’t be angry.”

“It’s nothing that would make sense.” I shut my mouth.

“What are they going to do with you?”

“I’d really rather not discuss it.” After my duel with Tolliver, it was surprisingly easy.

His fingers scrabbled for the bed controls. He raised his backrest, swung his legs over the side. With great care, he stood, balanced by hanging on to the headboard.

After a moment he cast loose, walked carefully to my chair, past it to the next. He didn’t quite totter.

Gratefully, he sank into the soft seat. “Listen to me, joey-boy.” His tone was sharp. “I won’t put up with this. You
will
tell me what I want to know. You will belay this evasiveness. RIGHT NOW!”

I began to cry.

“
Now,
boy!”

My mouth opened. In desperation I clamped it shut, shook my head.

“Enough! God—bless it!” He raised his voice. “Romez! Doctor!”

Running steps. Dr Romez hurled himself into the room, Janks a step behind.

“I want Captain Tolliver, and I want him NOW!”

“Sir, I can’t order—”

“Tell him I’m on the warpath and he will by God be here in the next minute!”

I sat, shoulders hunched over, my fingers clawing at the cuffs. My eyes stung from salt. I sucked in mucus.

Seafort worked his way to his feet. “I wish to
hell
I could walk.” A pause. “Sorry. But more than a few steps and I have to hold on to the bulkhead. You really did me well, boy. There, it’s all right, stop crying, blow your—oh!” With determination, he trod back to the bed, found a handkerchief, made his way back. “Here.” He held it to my nose.

“You asked to see—well! How touching.” Tolliver’s tone was acid.

“Be warned, Edgar. I’m beyond fury. Don’t goad me.”

“May I suggest you resume your bed? You’re pale.”

“Wasn’t there another boy with Mr Carlson?”

“Yes. Kevin.”

“Where is he?”

“In the cells, awaiting adjudication.” Thank the Lord. No one had told me. For the moment, Kev was safe.

“Was he part of it?”

“There’s no proof.”

“Release him.”

“No.”

“I order it.”

“You’re not in command.” Tolliver grimaced. “I say that with all due respect, sir. At the moment, I am Captain of
Olympiad.
I’ll gladly relinquish command when you’re recovered.”

“What’s this boy’s status?”

“Ask him.”

“I have. Now I’m asking you.”

“I won’t discuss it.”

Seafort threw up his hands. “Edgar …” He softened his voice. “Do we have a friendship?”

“I would hope so.”

“Tell me.”

“No, sir, I will not.”

“Very well, you leave me no choice. I reassume command of
Olympiad.
”

“I don’t give my assent. You’re an invalid. You sleep fifteen hours a day.”

“I’m weak, but I’m lucid.”

“You’re not fit for command.”

“That’s nonsen—”

Tolliver flung his cap past the startled doctor’s nose. “Very well, sir, you’re fit? Walk to the bridge.”

“What?”

“When you walk to the bridge under your own steam, I’ll relinquish command. Until then, I’ll do my duty as I see it!”

“Edgar!”

“Good day, sir.” A stiff salute, that wasn’t returned. After a moment, Tolliver retrieved his cap, stalked out.

“Romez.” Seafort’s voice was taut. “Help me to the bed. You’d better go, boy.”

Janks began unclasping my restraints.

“Sir?” My voice was tremulous.

“Yes?”

“Don’t hate him.”

“Have no fear. We bicker like an old married couple.”

“I want you to know …” I resisted Janks’s pull toward the hatch. “I’m truly sorry for what I did.”

He was climbing into the bed. “I’m glad you feel so.”

Inexorably, Janks hauled me to the hatch.

“Good-bye, sir.”

The hatch slid shut.

Once we were clear of sickbay, Janks was surprisingly gentle. He guided me below, to the row of cells.

I raised my voice. “Good-bye, Kev!” I hesitated just a moment. “I’m sorry. Ask your father to forgive me!”

Janks deposited me in my cell. To my astonishment, he returned with a tray of all sorts of sweets a boy might like. Cake, ice cream, hard candies. For the sake of his kindness, I sampled them.

How should one spend the last night of one’s life?

In one sense, I felt good. I’d passed all my tests save the last.

I’d resisted temptation over and again, and no more lay before me.

Soon I’d reach safe harbor.

But there was the other Randy, who felt a constant need to piss. Whose hands were clammy, whose shirt was damp with sweat. Whose stomach hardened into a knot. Who didn’t know whether to waste precious hours in sleep, or pace the cell to no purpose.

In the small hours, the hatch opened.

Edgar Tolliver, his eyes bleak. “I brought you this. No need to stand.” A holovid, and blank chips. He set them on my bunk.

To record my farewell messages. My throat tightened. “Thank you.”

He shifted, as if hesitant. “Randy, I never served with Derek; I barely knew him. But if you’d shown one whit of remorse, I’d have pardoned you for Nick’s sake. Even now …”

So. Temptation was not yet past.

I rose to my feet. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

A smile I couldn’t help. “My father made me so.”

“I understand you blamed Nick for
Galactic,
and it warped you. That much came out in your interrogation.”

I nodded.

“I’m not without mercy. What I’m doing will cost me a lifetime’s friendship with Nick Seafort. He’ll never speak to me again.”

“I doubt that.”

“Oh, it’s so. The moment he finds who you are.”

“Then, why …” I couldn’t help the question, though it seemed self-serving.

“Because I believe justice must be done, and seen to be done. We live in an era of law, not the Rebellious Ages. The stability of society depends on malefactors being punished. What other lunatic with murder in his heart would be encouraged by your pardon?”

“Then why would you allow my remorse to influence—”

“Because I’m human, not a machine!” It was a cry from the heart. “I’m not like those bloody fish, that hurt us without reason, attacked with no cause. I can love. I have daughters. I have a grandchild a year younger than you!”

“If I beg you, will you issue a pardon?”

“In all likeli …” He thrust his hands in his pockets. “Trust me.”

“Then I beg you.” Swallowing infinite pride, I got down on my knees. “Pardon Kevin Dakko, sir. He’s done nothing, knew nothing, is utterly innocent. I beg you to pardon him.”

“Janks, open this hatch! Open it at once!”

When I looked up, he was gone.

Late in the morning they came for me.

Master-at-arms Janks, with two burly seamen.

And trailing behind, Reverend Pandeker. “My son—”

“What’s
he
doing here?”

The master-at-arms looked startled. “Spiritual consolation. You’ve the right to confess—”

“NO!”

Pandeker raised a meaty palm. “Of course you’re distraught. Let His strength guide you through your travail. Randolph, make a clean breast of it; go to Him with—”

I pounded my knee. How could I compose myself for what was to follow, with that unctuous fool’s bleating? “Please!” It was an entreaty.

“Reverend …”

“Janks, his soul is at stake. I’ll walk with—”

“I think not.” Casually, the master-at-arms stepped between us.

Pandeker glared. “You’d come between holy Mother Church and her work?”

“He declines your services. If you need be present, you’ll need the Captain’s authorization.” Janks keyed open the hatch. “Sir …”

For a moment it seemed as if Pandeker would contest the issue, but at last he stalked out.

Janks turned to me with a sigh. “I have to tape your mouth, Mr Carr. That’s how it’s done.”

“Oh, God.” I squeezed my knee. “Can you find Mr Anselm, so I can ask him to walk with me?”

“I don’t—all right, I’ll ring his cabin. But we have to hurry.” They left the hatch open, the two sailors standing guard.

Two minutes passed. Three.

“I’m sorry, it’s time. The Captain—”

Running steps.

“I’m here.” Tad, out of breath.

“He’s about to tape my mouth. You do it. Please!”

Anselm flinched. “I can’t—” A deep breath. “Very well.” He took the tape from Janks. “Are you ready?”

I nodded.

Gently, almost tenderly, he placed it across my mouth. “I’ll be there every step of the way, boy.”

Except the last.

Janks muttered, “Now his hands.” Then, “I hate this.”

Hands locked behind me, my feet shackled, a sailor to my left, Janks in front, Anselm holding my right arm, we began our slow journey. I glanced at Tad and tried to eye a question.

“Below, Randy. The engine room. The shaft.”

As good a place as any.

We shuffled to the lift.

We sank into the bowels of the ship.

The hatch opened.

Level 6.

We progressed at a snail’s pace along the curving corridor.

Not a crewman was to be seen.

Ahead, a familiar hatch.

Slowly, we approached. Cowardice fully unsheathed, I shortened my steps until I barely moved.

Inexorably, Janks urged me forward. Despite my best efforts, I neared the hatch.

I tried to scream. Barely a sound escaped my gag.

We were at the hatchway. A dozen meters within, the fusion drive shaft. Erected over it, a plank. From it hung a rope.

My legs gave way. I sprawled, hanging from the grip of Janks and Anselm.

Tad knelt. “Look at me!” I did. His cheeks were wet. “I promised. Look at me, Randy. You’ve kept your courage. Only a few moments more.”

Somehow, they got me to my feet.

At the shaft, Captain Tolliver waited. With him stood a half-dozen officers: two middies, Lieutenant Skor, Dr Romez, others I didn’t know.

I took a step, could go no farther.

I began to wet my pants.

The speaker crackled.

A thin voice, reedy, weary.
“This is Nicholas Ewing Seafort, speaking from the bridge. Recovered from my injury, I hereby reassume command of UNS
Olympiad.
Mr Tolliver, you are reverted to the rank of lieutenant.”

Not a soul moved.

“All hands take note: the execution of Randolph Carr is stayed. The sentence of the court is vacated. Escort him to the bridge. Mr Tamarov, to the bridge, Lieutenant Anselm, to the bridge. Mr Ghent, to the bridge.”
A pause.
“Mr Tolliver, to the bridge.”

Too late.

I’d met my test, and made a hash of it.

I
T TOOK SOME DOING
to remove the tape; skintape was used in surgery, and was supposed to be irremovable. No doubt even surgeons found need on occasion, but it took a long sprint by Dr Romez to sickbay for the solvent.

They let me change my clothes. No. They changed my clothes. By that point I was incapable. Sobbing, I rested my cheek on Tad Anselm’s shoulder. He and Janks worked the damp trousers off my legs, brought towel and water, maneuvered me into fresh pants.

Romez offered a sedative; I refused.

I managed to walk, though my legs were unsteady. By now, I knew the way. The circumference corridor seemed familiar, almost home. I noticed details I hadn’t before. The hatches were trimmed in gold paint. On every Level except the topmost, framed art hung from the bulkheads. On a warship, no less. I shook my head.

Unrestrained, I walked onto the bridge, Anselm behind me.

Tolliver was there, impassive. Mikhael, subdued, stared at the deck.

“Lieutenant Tad Anselm repor—”

Captain Seafort was in his robe, the belt drawn tight. One hand gripped the black leather chair behind his console. He waved Tad silent, gestured to me. “Come here.”

Uncertain, I edged forward. Now, there would be retribution. How would he punish me?

He caught my shirt, pulled me the last step, swept me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Randy. So sorry.”

I clung to him, knowing this couldn’t be so.

At last, he released me. “We’ll talk in a moment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mikhael.”

His son came close. Of the two, the father was taller. He bent, just far enough to look into Mik’s eyes. His voice was soft. “By my order, you’re off duty now. Do you agree?”

“Yes, sir. Yes, Pa.”

“You knew, and didn’t tell me?”

“Yes, Pa.”

Seafort cuffed him in the mouth. The boy’s eyes teared.

“Go to my cabin. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir!” Mikhael ran from the bridge.

“As for you, Tad—”

“No! Blame me!” I tugged at the Captain’s sleeve.

“He betrayed our relationship.”

“It was that or betray me. He had no right choice.”

“Yes, he did. Tad, I’m disappointed.”

“Tell him, Tad! How you helped me.”

“Don’t, Randy.” Anselm stirred. “I accept the blame, sir, and whatever will follow.”

“Are you all gone mad? Do you think me an ogre?” Seafort reached for his chair, nearly stumbled, managed to sit. “You’re right, Edgar. It was a long, long journey from sickbay. I almost stopped to rest.” For a moment he let his eyes close. “No doubt we’ll be a while sorting this out. I know you all, and imagine there’s honor in what each of you did.”

“Odd that you slapped the midshipman, then.” Tolliver.

“I didn’t slap the midshipman, I slapped my son. Mik owed me higher loyalty, and knows it. I didn’t hurt him.”

“What will you do with …” Tolliver’s lip curled. “The boy?”

“With Randolph Carr?” Seafort gave special emphasis to my name, as if to underscore his outrage that it had been hidden. “Thank heaven I called up the Log the moment I got to the bridge. Young Mr Carr is paroled.”

“To whose custody, sir?”

“My own.”

“That’s outrageous!”