Later, the irony returned to haunt him when his conversation with Margot was once more interrupted-this time by a much too familiar voice.
"Thought I might find you here, Brim," LaKarn snorted irritably from the doorway, "with my wayward wife." He strode to the opposite side of the healing machine and glared inside.
"Indisposed, eh, my blond beauty?" he demanded sarcastically. "Well, you may not be pregnant, but you've certainly got yourself indisposed this time-and you damn well deserve it!" He glared over at Brim. "Had you even the hint of a brain, Carescrian, you'd understand how xaxtdamned lucky you were that you didn't get to marry this one. She is magnificent in bed, as you well know," he grumbled, "but I think she has a secret death wish." He peered angrily back into the chamber. "It's that damned Onrad who brought you here. You've got the man wrapped around your little finger. The meddling hab'thall." He spit angrily into her face.
At that, Brim lost control. "For Voot's sake, LaKarn," he said, blindly starting around the end of the chamber, "let her alone. Can't you see what kind of shape she's in?" He grabbed the Baron by his lapels and shook him tike a terrier with a rat. "You quivering gratz hen," he thundered to his suddenly-and thoroughly-terrified rival, "if you weren't her husband, I'd cave in your ugly face!"
At that moment, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Reflexively, he smashed LaKarn against the wall, then instantly whirled at his new opponent from a crouch-only stopping himself from further mayhem when he saw who it was. "Your Highness," he gasped, looking up into the face of Prince Onrad.
"Let me take care of this, Wilf," the prince growled calmly, shutting the door and striding to where LaKarn slumped against the wall, face crimson with fright and anger. "All right, Baron," he said, "if you have something to say about me, then say it to my face."
Instantly, LaKarn lashed out at Onrad with a stream of invective so foul that it would do justice to a Varnadoan goal. Onrad parried with the words of a gentleman, and soon the two nobles were so completely absorbed that Margot and Brim were nearly forgotten. And, to the tatter's astonishment, it rapidly became clear that LaKarn was not a strong ally of the Empire by any means. In fact, if anything, it sounded as if the whole Torond officer class might be sympathetic to the cause of Nergol Triannic-against the wishes of their elderly Grand Duchess Honorotha, LaKarn's mother. After a few heated cycles, Onrad suddenly turned from his assailant to frown at Brim and then at the healing machine. He pursed his tips. "You two have more important things to do than listen to this drivel," he said. With that, be opened the door and glared at LaKarn. "Come on, black shirt," he growled, "we can continue this elsewhere."
Wrapping the ebony cloak around him, LaKarn stormed past Brim and stopped at the healing machine. "We shall continue this another time, my beauty," he growled, "have no fear about that." Abruptly he laughed. "Pity you'll have to keep those gorgeous legs together for your friend Brim this time," he added, "because once I get you home, I shall keep then spread until you produce." He looked triumphantly at Brim. "And you, Carescrian, can dream about that-every lonely night!" With those words, he strode through the door with Onrad close on his heels.
Suddenly, the only sounds in the room were the quiet burbling hum of Margot's healing machine and the all-pervading rumble of the battleship's generators. Brim looked tenderly into Margot's tear-streaked face. "Can you leave him?" he asked.
"No," she answered. "Before any of my own wishes or my happiness comes my duty to the Empire-this marriage keeps Rogan and his resources on Greyffin's side.
Otherwise-well, I think you got the gist of their argument."
Brim nodded, fighting back tears of emotion. Perhaps, he thought for a moment, this was really why be loved her so deeply. "We'll work it out," he said presently. Somehow, he would make that happen....
"This Claudia the doctor mentioned," Margot began with a little smile. "During my delirium, I remember vivid flashes of a most exquisite woman with long brown hair. Does that sound like her?"
"Yes," Brim answered softly. "A lot like her."
"Come closer," Margot said.
He bent into the healing machine until his face nearly touched hers.
"Is she good in bed, Wilf?" Margot whispered. 1
Brim swallowed, "Yes," he answered softly. "She is."
Margot closed her eyes. "Thank the Universe," she breathed. "Then our love may yet survive."
Suddenly, alarms rang in the corridor. "All hands to stations for liftoff! All hands to stations for liftoff!..." A knock on the door produced a voice. "Lieutenant Brim, time to go. Prince Onrad has laid on a staff skimmer for your use outside the main brow."
"Thanks," Brim called without opening it. Then he thrust his head inside the healing machine again, this time to share a long good-bye kiss. When they finished, both were a little breathless.
"Would you like my ring back?" she asked as he continued to cradle her cheek in his hand.
"I would gladly kill for that ring," he swore in surprise.
"You'll find it in the compartment at the head of the machine," Margot said, pointing with her eyes. "The medic said it was the only thing I had with me that didn't burn."
Brim shuddered while he reached into the little personal-effects compartment. Its only contents were a small, charred box. Inside were the ring and the carbonized remains of her handkerchief. "I shall never part with these again-so long as I live," he promised, fighting back tears that suddenly welled up in his eyes. Then the five-cycle alarm clattered outside the door. He pressed his lips to hers one more time, then ran for the battleship's main hatch.
He just made it.
Mighty thunder from Resolve's departure still echoed through the heavens when Brim stepped from the staff skimmer at Defiant's gravity pool. He immediately harried to Collingswood's cabin and knocked.
"Come in and take a seat for a moment," Collingswood called over the music wafting through her half-open door.
When Brim entered, she was at a work station in her usual place. This time, however, the oak desk was nearly bare, and she was dressed in her formal uniform. Moreover, as he took his seat, he noticed that the cabin was completely upset, with lockers empty and shelves bare. Off to one side of the room, Grimsby was busily packing space trunks.
Looking up from his work, the elderly steward winked at Brim, smiled mysteriously, then shuffled out of the cabin and closed the door.
With growing concern, Brim waited for Collingswood to speak. Suddenly, his eye caught a new captain's insignia on the left collar of her tunic. He grinned. "Congratulations, Captain, er... Captain," be stammered happily. "Looks like Grimsby's packing you for a celebration leave."
Collingswood looked up from her work station and smiled tiredly. "Thank you, Wilf," she said with a wistful took, "but I'm afraid it's not leave I'm packing for."
Brim frowned and started to speak, but Collingswood held up her hand. "A moment, Wilf," she said. "I shall go into all that soon enough. First, let me talk about you." With that, she handed him a small box she had placed on the comer of her desk. "Congratulations yourself, First Lieutenant Brim," she said as he gingerly lifted the lid. Inside was a set of insignia. "Unfortunately, they're brand new," she said. "I've given all my old ones away through the years. But this time at least, I get to make the presentation myself instead of KA'PPAing someone else to do it for me, as I was forced to do for your last promotion." She reached across the desk to shake his hand.