Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

I nodded tiredly as he rushed to talk to the data people. The man was practically unstoppable. I’d found the battle had left me drained, but he was fresh, despite the streaks of dried blood on his face.

Taking my leave of the command deck, I headed down the main passages toward my cabin. It was my intention to take that shower I’d been cheated of hours ago.

To my surprise, I heard heavy footsteps in my wake.

“Zye? What is it, Lieutenant?”

“I wanted to thank you, sir,” she said.

I cocked my head thoughtfully. “For what, exactly?”

“For sparing Okto’s ship. I know that was a difficult decision, but I’m grateful. All Betas are.”

Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but thanks and gratitude were rare things in Zye. I was more than willing to take them whenever I could get them.

“There was no need to take more lives,” I said, “the entire battle was unfortunate.”

“No, Captain!” she boomed. There was a strange gleam in her eye. “The battle was
glorious
. Don’t let anyone take that from you.
Defiant
won victory even though we started out with a huge disadvantage. No Alpha will look at Earthmen with contempt ever again.”

I wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing, as Okto’s overconfidence had helped me win, but I nodded encouragement.

“Why, exactly…” I asked, “do you believe the decision was so difficult for me?”

She huffed. “Well… it was a dishonorable finish. Any Beta would have blasted a crippled opponent to atoms with glee. Instead, you ran like a kicked dog the moment you could.”

“You really think that’s how the Betas will see this action?”

“How else could it be viewed?”

“As a reluctance to kill. As an attempt to make an ally out of an enemy.”

She shook her head. “That would never occur to any of my sisters, especially not an Alpha. They’re all about winning at any cost. If you’d beaten Okto and destroyed her—”

“I
did
defeat her,” I pointed out.

“No, not really. That impression was erased by your reluctance to finish the task. You showed weakness in the final moments. Your hand trembled, and you felt fear overtake you as you wavered. Imagine… fearing to deliver a deathblow, even upon a helpless enemy… That fear—that’s what will be remembered by my people.”

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out again as a sigh. “I did it because our sense of honor is different. Slaying a helpless foe is dishonorable to an Earthling.”

She looked at me quizzically. “That would explain a lot.”

“Well, in the future, perhaps we’ll come to fully understand one another.”

“No sir,” Zye said confidently. “The Alphas know all they need to know about you now. They’ll adjust their tactics accordingly.”

This whole conversation was beginning to make me very tired. Nodding, I turned to go. I took my shower in a disquieted mood. Could it really be the way Zye had described it? Were the Betas so bloodthirsty they couldn’t even fathom a man who wasn’t?

She’d thanked me for sparing the Beta ship, but at the same time informed me that I’d doomed myself to the role of a coward in the eyes of her people. The truth was, we still didn’t entirely understand one another. Our cultures were too different.

After my shower, I passed out on my bunk again. My dreams were troubled affairs. They were full of warped, moving volumes of space and madwomen hell-bent on my destruction.

-22-

The following day I learned Durris had found a way out of this slice of hyperspace. The angle was sharp, but we adjusted our course and found the exit a mere fifty hours of having entered here.

The exit point was still some distance away, but at least we now had a goal firmly in sight. That fact alone allowed everyone aboard to rest easier.

I thought about the six crewmen we’d lost. I considered performing the funeral and jettisoning them out of the ship, as was our tradition, but I passed on the idea. Old superstitions bothered me. They frowned upon leaving a crewman in hyperspace—even a dead one. Since I had the option to wait until we reached normal space, I took it.

Why did people fear these strange places? Perhaps it was because people still wondered about the journey of the soul after death. For those uncertain of a soul’s destination, beyond a shadow of doubt, the loss of a life in space evoked a terrible respect for both the living and the dead. If you joined that with the incomprehensible magnitude of hyperspace, the usual protocol wasn’t going to lead to a good night’s sleep for any of us. In short, nobody wanted anything to do with dumping our dead peers into limbo.

Another negative to hyperspace burials was the extreme finality of the act. If jettisoned into space anywhere near a star, a corpse had at least some possibility of falling into the fusion furnace at the center of that system. Eventually, the star would collapse and oftentimes explode, seeding new stars with the matter expelled.

Every human being contains within their body elements which had long ago formed in the center of stars. From those raging infernos came the forged heavy bits of matter required to make any known life form function.

In a way, every living thing that died could be recycled into new life. Some part of us was therefore immortal. But, to leave them out here in the nonexistence of hyperspace, a theoretical void that could never support life or even a single star—that was a true punishment. No bit of matter could ever hope to escape.

So we held onto our dead. We froze them—a simple matter on a spacecraft—and carried them with us for burial in a more hospitable place.

Instead of holding a funeral, I decided to hold a celebration instead. Despite Zye’s gloomy opinions, I thought I’d done rather well against Okto. I called my officers to my private table for a formal dinner in compensation.

The only bad thing about my plans was the automatic inclusion of my intractable aunt. I couldn’t very well leave the most important personage aboard out of the party, so I invited her with gritted teeth. In preparation for possible difficulties, I ordered that a double-ration of wine be served. As part of the final course, three bottles of brandy from my private reserve were uncorked and poured with unusual liberalness.

Everyone was already smiling by the time the brandy came out. Even Aunt Grantholm, bless her soul, seemed to be enjoying herself.

“I propose a toast!” Rumbold announced loudly, rising to his feet.

“Another?” Durris demanded. “What’s your excuse this time, old man?”

Rumbold hushed us with a hand. “To a fine ship, the loveliest vessel in Earth’s navy.” He leered at my aunt pointedly. “And the
Defiant
ain’t so bad herself!”

He finished his toast, squeezing off a deliberate wink toward my aunt. His face displayed a broad, self-satisfied grin. He lifted the glass, and the rest of us, eyes wide, lifted ours as well.

Everyone was glancing at Lady Grantholm to see how she was taking Rumbold’s boisterousness. There was a moment of tension, during which she eyed the assembly thoughtfully.

At last, she smiled and raised her glass to join the rest. Everyone sighed in relief. We clinked and gulped. The brandy burned all the way down.

I’d yet to turn on my implant to metabolize the alcohol at an increased rate. To do so would remove my heady glow—but more importantly, it seemed like a crime. What was the point of celebrating with fine drink if one immediately erased the effects in the name of duty?

So, I let my head swim, and I let my mind wander. Lieutenant Commander Yamada sat to my left side. She’d grabbed that spot when she’d shown up ten minutes early.

“Rumbold is making his move!” she hissed to me in delight.

I looked across the table, and it was true. The old buzzard had his arm draped casually around the back of my aunt’s chair. He was talking to her animatedly, and she was eyeing him in amusement.

“Now, that’s a sight,” I said, chuckling. “I don’t recall seeing my aunt locked in flirtation for years—maybe it hasn’t happened in my lifetime.”

“She’s not married?”

“No,” I said. “She’s outlived three husbands. Rejuv only takes one so far, and not everyone reacts the same way to it.”

“How old do you think she is?” Yamada asked. “I mean,
really
.”

I glanced at her. She grinned conspiratorially in return. We were all getting drunk, I realized, and having a good time. I couldn’t blame any of my crew. We’d had precious little to celebrate on this long journey thus far.

“She confesses to one-seventy,” I said, “but some whisper it’s more like two hundred.”

“Wow,” Yamada said, sipping her drink, “like it makes a difference!”  She sprayed a fine mist of red wine and merriment through pursed lips, but quickly recovered herself.

I smirked at her, realizing that she was adorable.

“Two hundred years, maybe…?” she said, staring at my aunt again. “She looks pretty good, I guess. It’s to her advantage that birth records were lost in the purges after the Cataclysm. No one will ever know for sure. I mean, what would Rumbold say if he knew he was chasing a significantly older woman?”

“I don’t think he cares, to be honest with you.”

We watched the courtship continue. I began to suspect my aunt had switched on her metabolic implants at some point, sharpening her mind. I was just as certain that Rumbold had elected
not
to do likewise. I supposed it was for the best on both counts.

In time, the guests began leaving the party. Soon, it was down to myself, Yamada, Rumbold, my aunt—and Zye.

My aunt declared first. She rose, putting the back of her hand to her forehead.

“I think the wine has gone to my head,” she fibbed. “Will you escort me to my cabin, helmsman?”

“Certainly,” Rumbold said, springing to his feet like he was a century younger.

The two left almost arm-in-arm.

The moment the door swished shut behind them, Yamada put her face against my shoulder and giggled like a girl. “Did you see that? So cute!”

Zye looked baffled and suspicious. “What was cute?”

“The two of them—so old, but still flirting and having a good night. Gives us all hope, doesn’t it? Or at least it should?”

Zye stared at her flatly. “Are you suggesting they’ll have sex now?”

Both of us recoiled slightly. Zye was always one to be too direct at moments like this.

“Let’s hope so,” I said, “if their health permits.”

For some reason, this sent Yamada off into another fit of laughter. Zye eyed her in distaste. She stood up stiffly and nodded to me.

“I’ll be going now,” she said, pointedly. “As there is no one here to escort me anywhere.”

She left, and I looked after her with a frown. Yamada got up, walked to my bed, and flopped onto her back on the sheets.

“I’m yours tonight, Captain!” she sighed, eyes closed and smiling.

Eyebrows raised, I walked near and gazed at her. She was attractive, but not as much so as my Chloe, or the Connatic. She was an earthy girl. A woman of a practical nature. I’d always liked her.

Things might have advanced, but then I heard a very soft, rhythmic purring sound. Yamada was snoring.

I chuckled. Taking a final slug of brandy, I straightened up. It wasn’t in me to take advantage of a lady.

Walking to the door, I opened it.

Zye was standing there, no more than a foot from my face. She was glowering and her hands were balled up into fists.

“Zye,” I said mildly. “I’d like to walk you back to your cabin, if you don’t mind.”

She blinked and her bad mood evaporated. She nodded once, and I took her arm.

Walking together down the long passage, we passed various couples flirting in doorways and holding private parties of their own. Somehow, my celebratory mood seemed to have swept the ship. It was odd to think that even when off-duty, an entire ship’s complement could take their cue from their captain almost without thought.

When we reached the door, Zye stepped inside and glanced back.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked. “William?”

I looked down then at my hands. I had a bottle of brandy in the left. I hadn’t recalled bringing that along…

“Yes,” I said, and I followed her into her cabin.

She seemed stunned and almost nervous. She sat down on the bed and stared at me.

“Zye, if you want me to leave—”

“No,” she said quickly.

“You seem nervous.”

“You’ve never entered my cabin before. No one has ever visited my cabin.”

I looked around. There was little in the way of furnishing or decoration. There was an isometric weight set attached to one wall, with all the settings switched to maximum. Her bed was perfectly made. It looked as if her sheets were boards, rather than soft fabric.

“Very nice,” I said. “Would you like a drink?”

I offered her the brandy. She took the bottle, up-ended it, and consumed nearly half the contents with loud, gulping swallows.

She handed it back, eyes watering and gasping for a breath. I took a dainty swallow myself.

“Zye,” I asked, “are you a virgin?”

“Yes sir.”

“Please don’t call me that. Not now.”

“Yes… William.”

I shook my head. “You’ve been on Earth for nearly a year. Anyone could get lucky in that timespan if they truly wanted to.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know how to go about it. People I approached were intimidated or disinterested. I discovered that some people pay for intimacy—but that seemed too undignified.”

Sighing, I sat next to her. I suspected she had another problem: she was in love with me. What should I do? This woman wasn’t going to conveniently pass out and let me escape her cabin. I figured I’d probably lose any contest in drunkenness if we both continued drinking, unless I used my implant.

At some point, while I thought about what to do, I touched her. I’m not sure how it started. My hand was on the bed, then it was at her knee. I might have suspected that she’d placed it there herself if I hadn’t known better.

Before I knew what was happening, we were making out and eventually making love. It was the strangest sexual encounter of my lifetime.

But it
was
enjoyable. She was a strong girl. Her muscles were unlike those of other women. She could apply pressure wherever she wanted to, and the results were quite pleasing.