The Outback Stars (36 page)

“How much have you had to drink, Chief?”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “You think you're special, but you're not. We can hurt you when you least expect it—”

Jodenny calculated the distance back to the lift. She could physically defend herself if necessary, but he was heavier and stronger than she was, and unpredictable. Retreat might be the better part of valor.

“—and you'll never know. You'll be facedown dead and never know.”

He coughed harshly. Blood appeared on his lips. “Chief?” she asked, alarmed, and he managed a flash of surprise before he crashed to the floor.

Jodenny palmed her gib. “Holland, I need help. Medics and Security, right away.”

“Security's already on its way,” Holland said. “Are you hurt, Lieutenant?”

“Not me,” Jodenny said as Nitta began convulsing. Hultz and Zeni both appeared at the doors of their cabins, woken by the commotion or by their own agents.

“What the hell?” Zeni asked as Nitta gasped and bucked on the floor.

“What's he doing in officers' country?” Hultz asked.

Quenger came out of his cabin rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Jesus shit,” he said, and kept his distance.

“Medbot, activate,” Jodenny ordered, but the unit could do little. Froth was coming out of Nitta's mouth by the time the medics carted him off. Jodenny would have followed but two Security techs asked her to come make a statement. She went with them, acutely aware of Zeni, Hultz, and Quenger watching her as she went. While she was waiting in Picariello's office a tech brought her tasteless coffee and told her Chief Nitta had died in Sick Berth. Jodenny made him repeat the information twice.

“Died of what?” she asked.

“I'm sure they'll do an autopsy, ma'am,” the tech said.

Senga poked his head in once but didn't ask her questions. Picariello, when he arrived, asked why she'd been out in the passage so late at night.

“That's personal, sir,” she said.

Picariello raised an eyebrow. Jodenny kept her face as blank as she could. Her personal life was her own, damn it, and had nothing to do with Nitta being somewhere he didn't belong.

“Do you think Chief Nitta wanted revenge for being transferred out of Underway Stores?” Picariello asked.

She had already considered the idea. “He might have been mad about it, but he wasn't dumb.”

Al-Banna arrived, grumpy at being roused from sleep. Jodenny repeated the story for the umpteenth time. His expression turned thunderous as she described what happened.

“Goddamn Sweet,” he said.

Picariello said, “We won't know for sure until the autopsy.”

Jodenny looked at both men in bewilderment. “He was using Sweet?” she asked. Impossible. She would have noticed. Then again, hadn't he displayed all the classic signs? Mood swings. Unexplained absences from work. As a division officer she was supposed to notice such things, and to refer sailors to appropriate counseling or treatment programs.

“There have been rumors.” Picariello checked the clock. “In any case, it's late. Go get some rest, Lieutenant.”

“Take tomorrow off,” Al-Banna added.

“No, sir.” Jodenny stood, her legs like rubber. “I'll be fine.”

Picariello motioned for a guard. “Escort Lieutenant Scott back to her cabin.”

She went, and all the way back she saw only Nitta's wide, unseeing eyes, like so many of the dead on the
Yangtze.

*   *   *

That same night, over at Minutiae, Myell and Eva ate steamers culled from the ship's artificial seabeds and mushrooms drizzled with tofu cheese. Eva had a glass of wine. Myell kept a clear head. Small talk consisted of comments about their work, shipmates, berthing, and hobbies. Eva didn't like her job much and disliked her roommate, who brought strange men home unexpectedly. Myell allowed that he wasn't sure about his new job but had a great roommate.

Eva squeezed his hand. “You're lucky.”

The conversation stayed casual. Myell wasn't brave enough to attempt anything that would require more than pleasant nods or exclamations of agreement—topics such as How I Adore My Division Officer, or How the Last Girl I Dated Cried Rape. When the bill came, they split it fifty-fifty and strolled down the Rocks to an ice cream shop. She ordered chocolate chip on a sugar cone. He opted for butter pecan in a cup. If she noticed that they were being surreptitiously trailed by Gallivan, she didn't mention it. A full moon had been grammed onto the dome above, and as they drew closer to the main gazebo they heard snazzy tunes from a swing band. Couples spun and dipped in the plaza.

“Do you dance?” she asked.

“No.”

“Will you try?”

He would try, even though dancing reminded him of the school dances back on Baiame. The pretty girls had always flocked to Colby, the weak ones to Daris. Eva tugged him into the crowd, arranged his arm around her waist, and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Move forward, back, side. Forward, back, side. You've got it, Terry.”

Her breasts pressed against his chest. Myell tried to relax but he suspected that he looked as awkward as he felt. Gallivan was probably laughing his ass off.

“Maybe we should get more ice cream,” he said.

Eva kissed his cheek. “Not now. I've got you exactly where I want you.”

He tried to let the music carry him, but was entirely too aware of her warmth and closeness. Myell tried thinking about Jodenny and her betrayal of their pact by talking to Ng, but the clamminess in his hands and tightness in his chest kept him firmly rooted in the off-balance present. If Eva noticed his anxiety, she chose not to comment on it. Her smile stayed wide, and when his steps faltered her guidance kept them going.

“My ribs are starting to hurt,” he said. “Let me take you home.”

He walked her back to Admin berthing, where the lights had been turned down in the lounge and couples snuggled on the sofas. Eva put her hand on Myell's arm. “My roommate's on duty. Want to come in?”

“Never on a first date.”

“Don't you believe in seizing the moment?”

“I believe the best things are worth waiting for,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek.

Gallivan caught up to him in the lift. “Why didn't you take her to bed?”

Myell cuffed him. “Two words. Wendy Ford.”

“You don't think—” Gallivan didn't finish his words. “You did think.”

That Chiba might have sent Eva to find out what he knew or suspected? Of course he had. “And I made sure no false accusations could be made,” he added, holding up the pocket server.

“You recorded everything?” Gallivan asked. At Myell's nod he said, “Smart bucko.”

They returned to Supply berthing. The minute they stepped off the lift Myell sensed something wrong. Far too many people were clustered in the lounge and passageway, their faces showing shock or satisfaction.

“It's Nitta,” VanAmsal said grimly. “He's dead.”

“Lieutenant Scott found him,” Amador said.

Lange snickered. “Maybe they were together. Maybe she was fucking him.”

Myell punched him in the face. Lange went sailing backward over the sofa. Gallivan and Amador dragged Myell to his and Timrin's cabin and sat on him until some semblance of reason returned.

“Got your Irish up, did he?” Gallivan asked.

Timrin pulled a bottle of whiskey from his locker. “Give him a belt of this.”

Myell threw back a shot. “What did he die of?”

“Looks like Sweet,” Timrin said. “Message boards say he tested positive this morning, but you know how reliable they are. I never figured him for it.”

Myell drank some more of the whiskey. He'd heard occasional rumors about Nitta, but nothing worth paying attention to. His gaze fell on Koo's terrarium. The rocks were bare, and her favorite corner was empty. He lifted the lid and peered inside, dread mixing with the alcohol to make his stomach churn.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Where's who?” Gallivan asked, bewildered.

Myell moved around the rocks and plants. “Koo. Where did she go?”

He lifted blankets, shook out boots, and even searched through desk drawers, but Koo was nowhere to be found. Timrin and Gallivan both tried to assure him she'd turn up, but he imagined her somehow tangled up in the morning laundry and gone down the chute. Or maybe Chiba had broken in and caused her harm—

“Wherever she is, she's fine,” Timrin said.

In the morning Lange muttered an apology, but Myell barely acknowledged it. The mood at quarters was grim and Jodenny was pale as she addressed the division.

“As you know, Chief Nitta passed away during the night,” she said. “His death is a great loss to the department and to the ship. There will be a memorial service this afternoon in Hangar Bay 3. Uniform is service dress with medals. I expect you all to be there. Underway Stores, dismissed.”

Myell and Caldicot trammed over to the office, but Jodenny didn't. Caldicot was off running errands when she finally returned. Myell brought her a large cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” she said, standing by the wallvid and looking at the inky blackness of the Alcheringa.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“It doesn't matter. You've seen one dying sailor, you've seen them all, right?”

Myell closed the hatch. Jodenny covered her face with both hands and said, through tears, “Damn it, I didn't even like him.”

“No one did,” Myell said.

Her shoulders shook. He couldn't stand by and do nothing. Myell put his arms around her and rubbed a small circle of comfort on her back as she cried against his shoulder. He asked, “Should I call someone? Commander Vu?”

“No,” Jodenny sniffed. She pulled away. “I'm fine.”

“Jodenny,” he said, and it was the first time he'd ever used her given name.

She reached for a tissue. “I just need to be alone for a few minutes. Off with you before Caldicot starts wondering.”

Myell went, leaving her alone, cursing himself as a coward for doing so.

*   *   *

The memorial service was held in the ship's auditorium. The chiefs' mess made an impressive turnout, with rank after rank at parade rest for the entire ceremony. Underway Stores showed up, more or less, and most of Maintenance. Even Osherman was there.

“Sit with me, Lieutenant,” he said.

“No.”

“Stop being a stubborn pain in the ass and just sit,” he said.

Though Jodenny hated to admit it, there was some comfort in having him by her side. She shifted in her chair, sensing accusing stares leveled at the back of her head. But what had she done? Nitta had been the one trespassing in officers' country. Nitta had been the one who threatened her.

Master Chief DiSola began the eulogy. “I first met Hiroji back in Supply School…”

Jodenny told herself she wasn't going to cry. She already regretted breaking down on Myell's shoulder. What kind of leadership was that? Nitta's death was hitting her so hard only because of the
Yangtze,
she decided. At the reception afterward, people expressed their condolences to Jodenny as though she'd lost someone important, and she resented them for it. Half the people offering sympathy about Nitta hadn't even liked him. The
Aral Sea
was a ship full of hypocrites, and she herself was probably the biggest of them all.

Quenger and Chiba were at the reception, of course, as was Myell. Jodenny watched them circle the room but never approach each other.

Later that night Holland told her, “Sick Berth has released the autopsy report on Chief Nitta, Lieutenant. He officially died of an overdose of Sweet.”

Jodenny blamed herself for not seeing the symptoms. But if he had been cruising on a Sweet high when she saw him, maybe the nonsense about enemies and hurting her had been just that, nonsense. After all, Picariello and Al-Banna had both told her that it was nothing but the ravings of chemicals and hallucinations.

A comforting thought.

She didn't believe it for a moment.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“You've got a crush on Lieutenant Scott,” Gallivan said to Myell at breakfast, half an hour before quarters, as they sat in a corner booth on the mess decks. On the overvids, Hal and Sal showed excerpts from Chief Nitta's memorial service. His autopsy results were already the subject of rumor and gossip on the ship's message boards.

Myell stared at his gib. “You're wrong.”

Gallivan snatched one of Myell's pieces of toast. “Punching Lange in front of a dozen witnesses cemented the rumors.”

“What rumors?”

“What do you think, that we're all daft? Saw her sitting with Commander Osherman during the memorial service, though. Heard they were an item on the
Yangtze.
”

Myell peered over the top of the gib. “Do you want me to punch
you
?”

“Certainly not,” Gallivan said. “I'm just saying nothing good can come of it.”

“Shut up, Mike.”

Gallivan managed to stay quiet for only a moment. “Did you find your lizard yet?”

“No.” Myell knew it was absurd to grieve over a missing gecko, but he felt sick just the same. “Tell me, what part of ‘shut up' don't you understand?”

“You going to eat those hash browns?”

“Have them.” Myell pushed his plate away. He'd lost his appetite.

*   *   *

For the first time since taking over Underway Stores, Jodenny rushed through quarters. All she wanted to do was get back to her office, turn off her gib, and shut off all the lights. Otherwise, just one more sympathetic comment or imail about Nitta's death would make her start screaming. She hurried out of T6 as soon as possible, made it back to the office before Myell or Caldicot, and was settling into her plan for total retreat when the comm pinged. She only answered it because Ng's caller identification flashed on the screen.