"This crisis, this separatist movement, never would have started if they had listened to me and other line officers. We were out there, patrolling the edges, watching the riffraff move in and take over. We protested and we tried to enforce the laws, but the bleeding-heart do-gooders at headquarters always blocked us. Men like your Thorsson."
Justin shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to voice a protest in defense of a man whom he considered to be his friend as well as his commanding officer. But, sensing that now was not the time, he dutifully remained silent.
"Even with my back turned I know you don't like what I said, Mr. Bell. A good Captain can sense such things. The way you drew your breath in. Do you have something to say to me, Bell?"
"No, sir."
MacKenzie chuckled softly. "Now I remember the name. Your father served under me. Not much older than you, then. Rare, an honest lad. Died well from what I heard. You must have inherited his traits. Blood will tell, Mr. Bell, it always does."
"Thank you, sir."
" Your Thorsson. Norwegian. Not British, not American like you or me. The United Nations allowed such to gain power. How we ever agreed to the creation of the United Space Military Command, even if it was chartered and designed by us; well, it's madness. They're the ones who allow these separatists to flourish. Out on the edge it's lawlessness, anarchy. I know, Mr. Bell, I know And his voice drifted off into silence.
So much was being said that Justin barely had time to sort out all the implications of MacKenzie's onesided conversation before the Captain started again.
"I think, Mr. Bell, that this separatist crisis is deeper, more insidious than any are willing to admit. I know I've heard the traitorous utterances, even in the halls of the highest command. I tell you, Bell, there is only one thing holding humanity together and that is the Service."
"Yes, sir," Justin replied, feeling that at least there was one thing he could agree with.
"We, the line officers, must take a stand. If not, those lily-livers back on Earth, in league with the traitors with whom they make believe they are negotiating but are really secretly helping they will destroy us all. A firm hand, Bell, a very firm hand, that's what's needed. Don't you agree?"
Justin hesitated for a second.
"A captain commands his ship," Justin replied, hoping that his noncommittal answer would be viewed as support.
MacKenzie turned and looked Justin in the eyes.
"Have you read the book I assigned?"
"The first few hundred pages, sir," Justin replied, stretching the truth slightly. There were parts of the story he enjoyed, especially the details about how the old sailing ships and whalers operated, but the deeper stuff was throwing him off and he had skimmed entire
chapters.
"Ahab saw the evil behind the mask," MacKenzie said. "'Others could not, but he did."
He smiled. "It is the thing behind the mask I chiefly hate.
"There's much to be learned there, much indeed. I'll need you to finish reading that, Mr. Bell, by tomorrow night if you please."
Justin inwardly groaned. "Yes, sir."
"Have you heard anything, Mr. Bell?"
"Heard anything, sir?"
MacKenzie leaned forward.
"Inappropriate things. Dirty secrets, the little glimmers that evil can not conceal and which reveal what is hidden behind the mask. I know, Mr. Bell, I know about such things, oh indeed I do."
"No, sir, nothing, sir."
"You're a fool then, Bell," MacKenzie snapped.
He remained silent again for a moment and then ever so gradually a smile crossed his face.
"Any stray talk. A slip of the tongue, or a dark and dirty secret shared with someone you think is a friend, Mr. Bell?"
"No, sir, nothing, sir." Justin replied, trying to not let his voice betray just how nervous he was. Somehow he was convinced that Golson had been spreading stories about Matt and the Captain was now looking for confirmation.
"Perhaps you need a lesson, Bell, perhaps everyone does. You are dismissed."
"Yes, sir."
Justin backed out of the room and started down the corridor.
"Mr. Bell?"
Surprised, Justin looked up and saw Doctor Zhing standing in the doorway of his cabin.
"Come in here, son," Zhing announced loudly, I want to check your dose meter."
Justin stepped into the room, a bit confused because a quick glance to the tag on his chest would have shown that so far his exposure had been less than half a rad.
Zhing peeked out into the corridor then slid the door shut. He made a display of leaning over to check the meter, then motioned for Justin to stand at ease.
"How are you, son?"
"Fine, sir. No problem. The suit's a bit clumsy but we'll get used to it."
"What did you and the Captain talk about? I see you going in there every evening."
"I've been assigned as his steward for dinner," Justin said.
"Why?"
"I don't know, sir. Guess it was just the luck of the draw. O'Brian sent me down with dinner the first night and the Captain asked that I serve him for the remainder of the voyage."
"Good, that means he trusts you, at least for now." Zhing hesitated. "The same way he seems to trust young Mr. Colson."
"Sir?"
"Oh, the Captain knows the family and its connections. Your Mr. Colson has a powerful family, he does. When the Captain first saw the roster he recognized the name immediately."
"Sir, we're all cadets on this trip," Justin replied, curious about Zhing's comment. "Of course we can be trusted."
To his surprise Zhing leaned over, switched on the computer and dialed in some music.
"Did he talk to you at all about secrets? Or about the separatists?"
Justin wasn't sure how to respond.
"Son, as medical officer on this voyage I have the right to any information that might impact on my duty to monitor the health of this crew," he hesitated for a moment then dropped his voice to a whisper, "and that includes the Captain."
Taken aback Justin didn't know how to reply. He suddenly wished that Thorsson or his grandfather were here. This entire situation was not shaping up to what he had expected the service to be. Somehow, whenever he was done talking to MacKenzie he left feeling unclean, as if there were something wrong that he should feel guilty about but wasn't quite sure what.
"Sir, I'm not sure, sir," Justin replied.
"I'm concerned, Bell. I've served four cruises on this ship with that man. I retire in less than a year. Just a few more runs," he said dreamily, "just as long as I don't run afoul of that man."
The way he said "that man" surprised Justin; there was a note of disdain, but his eyes betrayed a look of fear.
"Sir. He talked about the separatists and how he doesn't like them."
Zhing laughed coldly. "Has reason not to. You know about his wife, don't you?"
Justin shook his head.
"She left him some years ago. Messy situation. What with him gone for months, years at a time. It happens a lot in the service."
Justin thought of his own mother, the memories of when he was a boy and his father was shipping out. The long months of waiting, the anxiety and fears. But she was always there for him when he returned. He wondered how such a blow would affect a man and how he would learn to live with it afterwards.
"She's one of the leaders now," Zhing continued. "She's said some embarrassing things about fleet officers in general and him in particular through the years. They think she might've been one of the participants in the seizure of the Gustavus."
Justin didn't know how to reply, wondering why the doctor was even sharing this information.
"Did he say anything about her?"
"No, sir, he didn't."
Zhing nodded and leaned closer. "Now listen, son. If anything troubles you, you come to me with it. I've been around a bit. You young pups from the Academy, they feed you a lot of sweetness and sunshine. There might be ships like that, but this universe is a damn big place. Frontiers draw all types, some good like Thorsson, some not."