Long View - Zelde M'Tana Part 33

Zelde thought. "You want to move in here, then? I'd like it. if you would." Torra frowned, and Zelde said, "If you don't, it's all right. I just thought-"

Defose shook her head. "I do want to-but it might cause trouble. You being Captain, I mean. And if you find a man you like, I don't want to be in the way. I don't expect to own my lovers-you or any other, past or future."

Zelde drained her cup and poured again; at half-full the flow stopped. "No man on this s.h.i.+p I want, that I know of. If there was-for either of us-it's like you say; n.o.body owns anybody. Though with Parnell I didn't look around; 258.

didn't want to." She felt her mouth go tight. "No two ways; I'll miss that man."

"I know." and Defose had a sad look to her. "For that matter. I miss mine. too.

And, well-rationally I know I've done the right thing, and certainly I can't regret strangling that hyena Cort Verrane. but still. . . ." Past Zelde. she stared. "All the years of loyalty I gave UET, I realize it wasn't deserved. 1 mean, four years ago 1 got fed up and began the slow process of feeling my way with the Underground.

And worked with them, ever since 1 managed to make the connection. But perhaps I was kidding myself, thinking I was only bucking UET for its own greater good."

"Huh? What you mean?"

"Not sure, Zelde. But now that I've made the irrevocable plunge, I find ail my training, all my upbringing from earliest childhood, back there nagging at me.

Torra, you're being a bad girl.' Any time I let my guard down; it's worst when I'm tired."

Switching back, this one? Squinting at her, Zelde decided, h.e.l.l, no! She said, "Give yourself a little time; it'll wear off." And time now to change the subject.

"Hey. We was talking about you moving in here. Now then-you're my Third Hat and Security Chief and-and bodyguard, for peace' sakes! So if I want you close to hand. . . ."

"All right." Now Torra smiled. "I'll guard your body."

Zelde felt stirrings but put them back. "Sure. But not right now. We got to be seeing about some business, on this s.h.i.+p!"

With three officers appointed, Zelde didn't need to stand regular watch. Torra left to collect her things-not much of those, only what she'd worn and carried aboard, and clothing and such from s.h.i.+p's issue. Quickly, trying not to think what it meant. Zelde arranged Parnell's belongings to make room. Then she went to talk with Fesler.

Dopples was awake some now, he told her, and improving slowly. "He has trouble talking, Zelde, as if he'd had a stroke. It was a bad concussion; maybe some bleeding, inside the skull, that caused pressure. Not for long, though, or he'd be dead."

She began to speak, but he waved a hand. "Yes, I know-a real doctor would operate to relieve it. But I 259.

don't know enough-and the proper tools aren't here, anyway. If it were life or death- but he is coming back, though slowly-so 1 prefer the risk of inaction."

Zelde had to agree. Fesler went out, and came back to say that Dopples was awake now; they went to his room.

Looking up, blinking slowly, Adopolous mumbled something. Zelde shook her head; Fesler said, "I've had more practice. He wants a briefing on s.h.i.+p's status. I've told him what I know, but probably there's a lot I don't."

Zelde thought, and told of Tessi Franzel's part in the mutiny-and of that woman's death, and Carlo Maura-gin's. She gave the casualty list-on both sides-and what she'd done about the surviving Uties. At that, the man's head moved, a feeble nod.

She told of taking command, and of her other appointments. Again the faint nod, and she said, "I'm glad you think I done right."

One more thing on her mind. "Mr. Adopolous-for turnover, I hope you can be there, and talking good. I think we can do it, Lera and me-but I'll feel better with you to check us."

The corners of his mouth moved-a smile, almost-and his right hand moved a little.

She reached and shook it. "All right, Mr. Adopolous. I'll be looking in again, for sure."

As she and Fesler left, the ailing man muttered something. She looked back, but the medic moved her along. Outside, he turned to her. "What he said, there at the last, was 'Dopples.'"

In Control, other business waited. First, Lera Tzane. "Zelde, this s.h.i.+p's running crazy with rumors. You have to get on the intercom, and straighten things out."

"All right." Zelde checked the log-no problems there- and opened the broadcast circuit. "Now hear this. Zelde M'tana here. You probably know Parnell's dead-and Mr. Adopolous hurt bad but getting better now. From here to Fair Ball, I'm in command-and the s.h.i.+p's name is Kilimanjaro." She named the other officers, then said, "Carlo Mauragin's mutiny was organized by a UET agent called Tessi Franzel: those two are dead-s.p.a.ced." She listed the other dead, and the Uties she'd locked up, but didn't men- 260.

tion Bellarn or the black man-if she did, somebody'd be wanting their hides.

She paused. "That's the size of it. Anybody got more questions, leave them with the watch officer-and best I can, you'l! get answers." Anything more? No. "M'tana out."

She turned to Lera. "Think that covers it?" The woman nodded. "What else, then, I need to do?"

Tzane looked down, then again up to Zelde. "The arrangements for Captain Parnell-Henty Monteil has him ready. But the honor guard-the choosing for it, and rehearsing. . . ."

Zelde's sight blurred; she shook her head. "I don't-I never heard-what's it all about?"

Lera explained. Wearing his dress uniform, Parnell lay in the topside airlock; it was open to vacuum. "In the book," Lera said, an honor guard in suits performed a ceremony before a s.h.i.+p's captain was given to s.p.a.ce. "So we should get started if-"

Zelde shook her head. "A Utie ceremony? Parnell don't need it. But-1 hadn't thought-something, I ought to do. What you think?" She couldn't get it straight.

What had she expected? Parnell already s.p.a.ced? "I guess," mostly to herself, she said it, "1 just didn't want to know."

She thought, then nodded. "No guard. No suits, no words set down by UET. I'll do it myself."

Lera touched Zelde's arm. "Shouldn't someone be with you? And shouldn't you announce it, so that if others want to pay their respects . . . ?"

Not used to this stuff. Who should she have there? Turk couldn't, or Dopples.

Rooster, though. Fesler. Torra-she'd done her best to help him. Lera had the watch.

All right- Zelde called the others to meet her at the airlock-eighteen hundred hours.

Then: "You announce it, Lera. So's anyone who wants to, can-oh, I don't know!"

"How about one minute's silence throughout the s.h.i.+p? That's a traditional way of expressing respect-from long before UET."

"Fine-do it like that." She patted the other's shoulder. "And thanks, Lera."

She got there early, and closed the lock to let air fill it. When she went in, she could feel the cold. Parnell lay cen- 261.

tered, feet toward the outside door. She'd never seen the fancy uniform he wore-and in a way she hated it, for it was UET's. But what else, what better, could he have on? She shrugged, and bent to look closer.

Cold and vacuum had shrunk his skin; he looked like a hungry boy, but the shrinking showed his beard stubble. She touched his cheek, and felt the cold pull at her finger- if she kissed him, her lips would freeze at the surface, and tear when she pulled away. She rubbed them dry with a finger and gave him a quick peck, anyway-and when she got away with that, a longer one. This time a small spot did stick-when she freed herself, she tasted blood.

Behind her, sounds; she turned and saw Rooster coming toward her-and with him, Torra and Fesler. She checked the time-three minutes, yet. They came up to her and stood, looking uncomfortable.

She said, "I don't know how to do this. Come inside here, for now-and, I guess, anybody wants to say something, do it."

In the airlock, Torra leaned down toward the body. "I hardly knew you, Captain- but enough to be glad I was on your side."

Standing back, Fesler said, "Parnell forgave me a serious wrong I did him. I tried, the best 1 could, to repay that."

Rooster cleared his throat. "Skipper-anything I could do to help, I'd do it. You know that. I'm not sure about religions, and all-but peace take you, sir!"

Blinking tears back, Zelde couldn't see much. "I think- what I tell him, I want to say just alone. If it's all right. . . ."

They left her and she knelt beside him. In her mind, words were everything and nothing. She touched his shoulder-the bad one, it was, so that frozen stiff or not, habit made her touch gentle. And finally she said, "Parnell- Ragir. love-I tried to do you right. You're the best man I ever knew. I find another-I know you wouldn't grudge me-I' ll cherish him, too. And for now-peace let me do your s.h.i.+p right!"

She moved to him-it was awkward, but she wanted to do it all herself-and lifted and stood him against the door to outside. Erect, leaning back just enough to balance there. She stared, wanting to be able to remember-but this isn' t him! Then she left the airlock, fast, looked back once and closed the door.

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The time-past eighteen hundred, but only by a few seconds. She pushed the other switch. The outer door opened, and the rush of air took Ragir Parnell like a feather; he turned a little and seemed to vanish instantly, leaving no sign of him.

Zelde's hands went to her face. Arms held her; she didn't know whose. After a time, when she raised her head and could see again, she found herself in the middle of all three of them.

Somehow that last good-bye to Parnell cleared Zelde's mind, and let her accept her life as it was. She began to put things together; running the s.h.i.+p settled into routine. Turk Kestler, up and around on a part-time basis, made an in-signe for Kilimanjaro-a snowy peak against blue sky, with the name in big letters slas.h.i.+ng down across it. Rooster went outside to place the sheet-and this time, with Torra Defose on watch, had no trouble getting back in.

Torra, now. Zelde found herself totally interested in talking-almost trading lives, in talk-with the other woman. When Torra asked her age-and, close as she could guess, Zelde gave it-Torra sighed. "Zelde, compared to me, you're a baby. Half my age, give or take a little. And here's Kilimanjaro, an Escaped s.h.i.+p, and you by full right commanding it." She shook her head. "No, don't think I'm jealous-command isn't one of my twistups. But now that the guilt's wearing off, as you said it would, I wonder-why did it take me so long to cut loose from UET?"

Stroking Terra's neck-Zelde wasn't sure whether the loving was done with, for now-she said, "You ever have the chance, before?"

Eyes closed, Torra lay back. "I'm not sure. The s.h.i.+p just before you. at Parleyvoo- it wasn't Escaped yet; I'm certain of that. But the signs were right; that s.h.i.+p was a powder keg if ever 1 saw one. The captain didn't seem to know it, and I didn't tell him. And Cort Verrane-" She laughed. "His wife Amzella sensed something, but he never listened to her if he could help it. So 1 handed Verrane my objective report-no inferences, which I'd usually add in such cases-and he gave his smug smile, and congratulated me for clearing the s.h.i.+p so quickly. How that man could be so paranoid and at the same time so gullible, I'll never know."

263.

Zelde thought back. "Hey-that's the s.h.i.+p, left a message for Parnell?"

Torra nodded. "Not officially. From the Irishman, Mal-loy-First Officer. I tried to talk with that one; being Police, I got nowhere. But I know a hungry man when I see one-and my guess is that Malloy has an Escaped s.h.i.+p for himself. Or soon will."

"Pig in the Parlor."

"I don't understand."

"What he'll name the s.h.i.+p. Parnell told me."

Torra laughed. Her hand moved; ticklish, Zelde turned like a cat. But the intercom sounded; the call was routine, but it broke the mood. Zelde shrugged.

"Probably time I got ups.h.i.+p and did some work, anyway."

Well ahead of turnover, Dopples was up and moving some. Two canes he needed, to walk with, and help on stairs. But he'd be in Control when the time came, and could talk some, too-but slow. He moved back into his quarters-and if Hilde and Helga missed the young ratings who'd been hanging around, Zelde hoped they knew better than to let on.

She spent more time in Control now, checking star sight-ings against s.h.i.+p's time and feeding the results to Dopples' portable screen terminal. He agreed with her- everything was on the money, and turnover-warning sounded almost exactly when they expected it. So far, so good.

Nearly midway in Lera's next watch, then, the blondes brought Dopples in. After helping him into the backup seat, they moved to sit well back, out of the way. To Lera's other side, Zelde had the primary screens and computer readout; duplicate tapes went to Dopples' position. Time shortened; no one talked much.

At five minutes, Tzane broadcast the free-fall warning. To the side, Zelde saw Hilde glance at Helga or maybe the other way around. Both made pouting faces, and Zelde guessed what they'd rather be doing.

As before-except then, Parnell was here!-the numbers came, the count, the relays to Harger and his responses. Once Dopples began to speak; then he looked again at the tape and shook his head. "It's- . . . all right."

At signal, gravity eased off and vanished. Again Zelde felt the s.h.i.+p turn-so slow, like forever. And then the drive 264.

started, began to push-it coughed!-and once again, and then caught hold solidly.

And Harger laughed.

Zelde let out her held breath. "Harger! We all right?" "Just fine. Pardon my little joke-did I scare anyone?" If you was up here! But she said, "Good job-no harm done."

Now decel needed setting. Lera said, "Point-seven max, as before, gives about eighty-five days to our coordinates for Fair Ball." It sounded right to Zelde, but Dopples cleared his throat.

They looked at him. In his new, slow way he said, "I'd use point-seven-five. A little leeway." So that's how Zelde relayed it down to Harger.

Four days later, Henty Monteil called, saying that Zelde was hard to find lately.

Well, she'd been exploring parts of the s.h.i.+p she didn't know, trying to learn as much as she could. The rest of Henty's message was that the power suit was fixed.

"1 had to replace the effectors in that knee and thigh-I think you caught projector crossfire there while using max effort, and the circuits overheated." But the thing was, Zelde should come down and run the suit through a full set of operating tests.

AH right-but that gave her another idea. As officers, Gil Charvel and Torra should know the suit. So after she'd checked it out, she put both of them through some quick training. She knew she'd forgot some that Parnell had shown her, and she didn't have time to study through the whole manual-not that all of it still applied now. She left them that part to do, on their own. And before long the two could handle the thing well enough, and Zelde put her mind to other matters.

It wasn't a happy s.h.i.+p she had-and Zelde wasn't sure why. One day, scanning a maintenance log, she found several entries missing-and the chief of that crew, when she located him, was in his quarters playing cards. The big, dark-haired man looked up, frowning. "Something you want?" Like talking to an errand boy. The other three- two men and a woman-after one glance, they acted as if Zelde wasn't there.

The man's name?-oh, yeah. "First you stand up, Sam Dargan." She waited, and he did. "Now say me how come you're here in duty hours, with your logs a week behind."

265.

Some heavier than she was, but no taller, he shrugged. "Forgot to make the little pencil marks, I guess."

"How about the work, Dargan? You forget that, too?"

Again he shrugged; maybe that was what he did best. "UET schedules? Who pays attention now? Parnell didn't. So now all of a sudden, M'tana-"

"Captain Parnell-could be he got too sick to wipe your nose for you all the time.

And it's Captain M'tana, too. Remember?"

"Ten-twelve weeks, maybe-until we land, you're Captain. That much, we've all heard."

Wants trouble, this one. All right. . . . "And this happens to be one of those ten- twelve weeks, Dargan."

"So?"

"So get your a.s.s up on the job-double s.h.i.+fts until you catch your logs up. And I don't mean pencil marks-you do the work."

Now he laughed. "Who'd know? You're not even trained."

"I'm working on it-and I got people that are." Angered to the killing point, she still tried to reason. "If you're trained at all, you know the s.h.i.+p's our life-we take care of it so it takes care of us. You don't know that much, you're unrated where you stand!"

He shuffled forward a little. "Unrated? Come to think of it, I don't see you wearing any rank-not so it shows." And at that, the other three began moving. Gang up!