Midshipman (4 page)

Finally we went through a little checkpoint where a Dog sniffed us both and waved a little scanner-thingie at our limo. Then his master scowled at me, checked something off a list, and waved us through. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised at what came next, though I most certainly was. We drove perhaps another block, made a left turn…

…and there I was, sitting directly in front of the Governor’s Palace!

At first I thought it must’ve been a mistake, even when I saw the big mockups of
Hummingbird
and
Sword of the People
locked side-by-side in battle stretching across the Royal front lawn. Then Pedro came galumphing up to greet me and a Royal-liveried Rabbit appeared with a wheelchair. “It’s a terribly long way, sir,” the latter explained when at first I wouldn’t sit down in it. “You’ll be all worn out if insist on walking yourself, or so I’m told.”

“Come on, David!” Pedro urged, clasping my shoulder. He was wearing a blue hat that said “Hummingbird Crewman” in big red and white letters. “Don’t argue! You always make things so hard for everyone!”

I smiled at last and seated myself, whereupon the Royal footbunny bent over, laid his hand on my shoulder, and whispered in my ear. “We’re all
so
proud of you, sir!” he explained. “We servants, I mean! And you’re even younger than I imagined! Please, just rest easy and trust us. We’ll take perfect care of you.”

How could I reply to that, except to lay my hand over his and smile back at him? Then we were on our way, with Pedro marching soberly at my side.

“Here comes the hard part, sir,” the footbunny whispered again in my ear as we approached the Palace doors. “Keep your arms and legs tucked in, and I’ll rush us through lickety-split.”

Before I could even ask what the problem was we passed through the portals and suddenly I was surrounded by absolute bedlam. “How’s it feel to be free?” a woman screeched in my face. “Did you really kill three Imperial marines?” another voice demanded. “Who died because you took up a Tank that should’ve gone to a human?” Then they all let loose at once, a sea of angry, demanding voices closing in from all directions as bright lights flashed in my eyes and the footbunny hunkered down over me as closely and as protectively as he could.

Fortunately it
didn’t
last long—a few seconds at most, though I was quite certain at the time that I’d never forget the experience as long as I lived. We passed through a second door, and suddenly it was as if the insane crowd had never been. The hallway was now dark, quiet, and dignified. “Wow!” Pedro whispered from close alongside me. “That was
terrible
!”

“Oh, yes!” the footbunny agreed, nodding. “Some Rabbits think it’s all tea and crumpets, serving a Royal Governor. Well, let me tell you something! I often dream of a nice, quiet ship’s steward berth out between the stars, far away from all this nonsense.” He shook his head, making his ears waggle ridiculously. “Humans can be so
rude
! And what’s amazing is that they treat each other even worse than us!”

The hall stretched on and on and on, until it felt almost like the limo-ride and I began to appreciate the wisdom of whoever had reserved me a wheelchair. Then finally it grew lighter up ahead, and I could make out soft music and the murmur of conversation. “Where are we going?” I asked at last.

The footbunny smiled, but Pedro spoke first. “It’s a party!” he explained. “For all of us
Hummingbird
s! They’re even going to let you and me eat with ‘em!”

I blinked. “Wow!”

“The governor is presiding personally,” the footbunny continued. “It’s a great, great honor, sir. I can’t remember this being done for any other ship’s crew, ever.” He smiled. “But then
Hummingbird’
s done something no one else ever has. Though I’m afraid that the technical details go right over my head.”

They didn’t take me straight into the ballroom; instead I was shunted off into a little antechamber where Mr. Banes was waiting for me, reading a datapad. He stood and smiled as I rolled in. “Congratulations!” he greeted me as, a bit awkwardly, I clambered up and out of my wheelchair. “I hope the surprise is a pleasant one.”

I looked around a little bit, suddenly feeling very lost. The little chamber was all done up in fancy textured wallpaper, and expensive-looking busts adorned the corners where they met the ceiling. The knap on the carpet was so deep that it felt strange under my toeclaws. “I… I…” Mr. Banes’s brows knitted, and he opened his mouth to speak. But Pedro beat him to it.

“It’s okay, David!” he declared, slapping me heartily on the back. “We’ve got a day off, see? Someone else is making the sandwiches!” Then he smiled and picked up another “Hummingbird Crewman” cap off of the counter. “We get to wear these, and no one makes us work!”

I looked at Mr. Banes. He smiled, took the hat from Pedro, and clamped it on my head. There were even ear-holes—someone had thought ahead. “Yep!” he agreed. “This is your special day, all right.” Then he looked at Pedro and smiled. “A day for all of our heroes.”

“Hooray!” the big Rabbit cried out, dancing with joy. Pedro might not’ve been very bright, but he was certainly pure of heart.

Then my tutor examined me more carefully, verifying that my shirt was tucked in and my tie properly knotted despite the fact that I’d never put one on before. Next he picked innumerable little specks of lint and fur from my jacket. Then he stood back and sighed, shaking his head. “That’s the best that can be done for now,” he admitted eventually. “Though we’re simply going to
have
to commission special shoes. And the ever-shedding fur…” He sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll never solve
that
little problem, I expect. But for now, fresh out of the hospital, you’ll do.”

I smiled and nodded, even though I really didn’t understand what he was getting at. After all, Rabbits didn’t wear shoes! None of us did, ever, except sometimes when working around broken glass or something. But it didn’t matter because just then James poked his head around the corner, and in an instant we were hugging each other and laughing and dancing a sort of improvised jig. “James!” I cried out. “It’s been so long!”

“Three times as long as for me as you!” he countered. “I’ve had more homework!” We were still laughing when suddenly the music playing in the ballroom transformed itself into something martial-sounding and the lights dimmed three times. “I’ll show you where to sit, David!” James said, pulling away. Then he smiled at Pedro. “And you too, of course. Come on!”

I looked up at Mr. Banes, who merely smiled and nodded. Then we were off at a dead run, ducking and weaving our way between the uniformed and tuxedo-ed and evening-gowned adults like mice through a maze. It was something we really shouldn’t have done—both James and I were really too old to behave so childishly, and when we finally stopped my heart was racing and I was gasping for breath. Besides, poor Pedro was hard-pressed to keep up without offending anyone. But it felt so
good
to see each other again! We were still laughing when James skidded to a halt at a table for four, located a lot closer to the front of the room than I’d have preferred. In fact, it wasn’t five feet from where Lord Robert sat in regal splendor in full ceremonial robes at the foot of the VIP table. I gulped at that, since there were at least a dozen other Lords scattered around both ends. Pedro had taught me a little bit about social precedence so that I’d know who to serve first, and as near as I could tell Lord Robert was the second-highest ranking person present. Only the Royal Governor at the head of the table outranked him, he being a direct representative of His Majesty's person. In the middle, after all the nobility and their wives had been accounted for, sat the uniformed men. It was rather a shock to see that all of
Hummingbird
’s surviving crew, distinguished by hats like mine and Pedro’s, were spread out intermingled among the rest of their tablemates without any regard for rank. There was Captain Blaine conversing eagerly with a peer, with Percy the marine of all people sitting right next to him! And there was First Officer von Selkim, who winked when I caught his eye, and Sergeant Wells, and…

Everyone!

“We'd be over there with them,” James explained. “But…”

I nodded, understanding instantly. My friend had been a mere passenger during the battle. And Pedro and I… Well, I didn’t expect us to be slurping hay at a Royal Governor’s table anytime soon. Just eating in the same room was far more than I’d ever have anticipated.

But I didn’t have very long to dwell on the subject before the appetizers began coming. At first I was really looking forward to trying them, but it turned out that they were all either cheesy or greasy or so full of meat that Pedro and I couldn’t stand them. One of the footbunnies, however, was kind enough to bring us each a plate of timothy-hay and alfalfa from the Rabbit-kitchen, and that was nice enough. The salads were also wonderful when we got to them, and because Rabbits are smaller than humans these were really all Pedro and I needed. The delicate young carrots and cauliflower and potatoes served with the main course were enough to distend we lapines as much as everyone else, though the ragout of pork smelled pretty awful. Dessert was some kind of gooey frozen stuff that I found out later was called “ice cream”. It smelled wonderful but tasted really, really foul. So the yummy carrots and such served as our desserts, and neither of us had any complaints. It could certainly be said that Rabbits had dined far worse.

After dinner the pipes and cigars came out, and Pedro and I exchanged long-suffering glances. No Rabbit ever born has ever understood what humans see in tobacco smoke, and we ship’s boys were no exception. Over and over again we’d been forced to wade through the stuff while serving aboard
Hummingbird
. Tobacco smoke stank, pure and simple, even worse than either Rabbit or human droppings. And how stubbornly it clung to our fur, defying every known shampoo! How any living thing could derive pleasure from inhaling the nauseating stuff was utterly beyond us.

But smoking time passed, as it always did eventuality. I was just beginning to think that perhaps dinner was over and it was time to leave when the governor stood up and walked over to a little podium near his chair. Suddenly a spotlight stabbed down on him, the band ceased playing, and the mutter of conversation died down to nothing.

“Good evening!” the old man finally said after looking up and down the table and smiling for what felt like forever. “I hope everyone’s dined well?”

“Oh, yes!” various voices called out. “Magnificently!” “Thank you, sir!”

The governor smiled and nodded. “It’s the least we can do for you
Hummingbird
s,” he replied. “After what you’ve done for us.” Then his face sobered. “At approximately 32:21:15 Galactic Standard time, just barely on the Coal Sack side of Marcus Prime’s number five Jump point, a miracle occurred.” There was a little rumble of conversation at that, but the governor spoke over it. “Yes—a miracle I said and a miracle I meant. For when a king’s ship, already badly damaged, not only defeats but captures and makes a prize of an Imperial carrying ten times her broadside’s weight of metal, well…” He shook his head. “That’s a miracle in my book.”

There was a long, thoughtful silence. “I don’t need to detail the action,” the governor went on. “It’s been all over the media, and now I can officially confirm that the reports are for the most part accurate.
Hummingbird
did indeed grapple and board
The Sword of the People
in the manner so often described. Yes,
Hummingbird
’s brave captain truly did refuse to surrender for fear of sullying a proud name. Yes, her able officers cobbled together an ingenious assault plan in a matter of minutes, then implemented it coolly, effectively, and with utter ruthlessness despite the fact that many were already wounded. Yes, her marines—led by a mere sergeant!—prevailed though outnumbered five to one. And strangest and most miraculous of all, well… I’ll get to that a bit later. In the meantime, I’ll begin by announcing that a special commemorative medal has been struck to memorialize this extraordinary action—all crew members and surviving family members are hereby authorized to wear it in perpetuity.” There were cheers, but His Majesty’s representative plowed right on ahead. “In addition, a monetary prize of a thousand credits a man has been awarded, along with sixty days special leave.” Predictably, the cheers grew even louder.

Then, rather suddenly, the governor was standing ramrod straight. “Sergeant Percy Middleton!” he cried out in a voice that was clearly navy-trained. “Front and center!”

And suddenly my marine-friend, still wearing his Hummingbird Crewman hat, was standing at attention before the podium. The governor explained how Percy had led the boarding party that actually broke into
Sword
and cleared her compartment by compartment. “By the power invested in by his Royal Highness King Albert, by grace of god sovereign of a thousand suns, I hereby award you the Marine Medal!” There was a pause while a gaudy blue ribbon was pinned to Percy’s tunic, then the marine saluted, spun on his heel with parade-ground perfection, and marched back to his seat.

“He told me he’d get his stripes back in nothing flat!” I whispered to James, who grinned. “I bet even he didn’t think it’d be
this
fast, though!”

Then it was First Officer von Selkim’s turn, and seemingly that of almost every other crewman. Practically everyone received some sort of special recognition. The chief engineer was awarded a special ribbon for coming up with the big battery-arc that’d done so much to mislead the Imperials, while the chief gunner got a posthumous medal and his assistant (who was in charge for practically the entire battle) was offered the chance to attend officer training. Almost at the very end, Sergeant Wells received the most impressive medal to date—the Order of the Great Bear—for volunteering to singlehandedly cover the grappling operation, thus freeing up more marines available to go with Percy. And then…

“Captain Sir Leslie Blaine! David Birkenhead! Front and center!”