“I must be. I’m grinning a lot,” Jeff said. He glanced thoughtfully at the boomed-out spinnaker, then down at the wake. “We must be making twelve kilometers! I’ve never gone this fast before …”
She laughed. “You travel in starships, and you’re impressed by a small boat?”
“It’s not the same,” he said defensively. Now why did she have to remind him of starships? And how was he going to tell her? Maybe now was as good a time as any. Just say it. “And I may not have many more opportunities.”
Her look was enough to wrench out his heart. “Why?” she asked, But she knew.
“Something’s happened out in Trans-Coalsack Sector,” Jefferson said. “Something big. They discovered an alien civilization.”
She frowned. “But you told me yourself there aren’t any intelligent creatures other than humans—”
The boat took a rogue wave and he struggled with the tiller for a moment before he could answer. “It’s a big universe. We were mistaken. Actually, they were discovered some time ago, and the news is only just getting here.”
“But how does that affect us?” she asked.
“They sent an expedition to the alien planets,” Jefferson said. “I don’t know what they found, but they’re ordering a main battle fleet to Trans-Coalsack.”
“War?” She shuddered. “We have stories about the last wars. And those were with humans.”
“I just don’t know,” Jeff said. “It might be. Why else would they want a fleet?” A big fleet. To be commanded by Kutuzov! Kutuzov the butcher, Kutuzov the hero … it depended on your point of view. “They’re sending a lot of ships out there, so the rest of us have to cover more territory. I don’t know where Tombaugh will be sent. Maybe even Trans-Coalsack.”
“Is that far?” she asked.
“Yes. Very far. And behind the Coalsack — that’s a mass of interstellar dust so thick it hides the stars behind it. You can’t see the sector capital from here.”
“I knew it would happen,” she said. “My father told me not to — not to fall in love with a Navy man. So now you’re leaving me.”
“Hey, I haven’t left yet,” he said.
“Can you stay?”
“I don’t know.” Possibly, he thought. I’d have to resign from the Navy and go into civil government. Do I want that? Oh, damn. He thought of Tombaugh ordered away, his shipmates leaving without him. Would that be harder than leaving Elaine?
He’d been planet-bound for two years except for brief tours aboard the orbiting Tombaugh. It was a pleasant relief from ship duty. But if he resigned to stay here, he’d never go to space again except as a passenger. He’d known he’d have to face this decision one day, but not so soon, not so soon. He tried to imagine his life as a civil administrator building an industrial civilization. He’d have honors enough. Possibly a barony. Almost certainly a barony on retirement. Another title in the family. His father would be proud of him. And he’d have Elaine.
Would that be enough?
Certainly he’d thought so when he first met her. But now he wasn’t sure. That frantic need to be with her was gone, and while he didn’t go looking for other women, he no longer felt repelled by them. Like that tavern girl he’d met the other night, the really friendly one — he pushed that thought away. Jeff didn’t believe in telepathy, but Elaine had surprised him before.
She was at her loveliest today. The wind brought a bloom to her cheeks, and her hair, tied with bright ribbons, blew wantonly in the gusts. His eyes met hers and he smiled, and her answering smile was warm and trusting.
Trusting. Certainly she was that. Far too much so by the standards of this world.
You owe her, Jefferson thought to himself.
Not really. Happens all the time. Why make such a big thing out of it?
Because she does, and her father does, and all her friends do, and you knew it all along, and—
Another rogue wave threatened to swamp them, and he tried to force his worries and doubts from his mind to give all his attention to the tiller.
He almost succeeded.
Jefferson looked at his crowded “work-to-do” screen and frowned. It was all trivial stuff, but it took time to process, and it was hard to keep his mind on his work. Remembering last night’s stormy scene with Elaine after they got ashore didn’t help. She’d sensed his uncertainties, and although she hadn’t accused him of not caring for her, she’d thought it. Worse, it was true. Or almost true. Or partly true. He cared for her, but enough to abandon his shipmates, his whole career? It came to that. She’d never fit into Capital social life.
And the choice would have to be made within the year. Just now High Commissioner Ackoff was trying to recruit naval officers for his civil service, and Navy policy was to let him; but if Tombaugh got war orders it would be too late. Captain Greenaugh would never let one of his officers resign under those circumstances.
He was keying in data on platinum production — surprisingly high on a world so poor in copper — when his door opened and Lieutenant Adnan Clements came in. “Got a minute?”
“Just that,"Jeff said. “What’s up?”
“Blivit, of course. Old man’s got a new job for you.”
Jeff gestured toward the screen. “I’ve got plenty of jobs-”
“So now you have another one. That Makassar expedition’s coming in. Somebody’s got to give Navy clearance for passengers and cargo. You’re elected.”
“Oh, hell. Why me?”
“Because the skipper’s not about to do it, and I’m being sent down to South Continent to bust up a pirate fleet, that’s why.”
“Hey, that sounds like fun—”
“Sure, if your idea of fun is shooting up wooden boats that can’t shoot back.” Clement’s face showed his distaste.
Jeff nodded agreement. “Guess I’d rather look for contraband at that.” He turned to the keyboard and punched in the assignment. The schedule screen looked more cluttered than ever. “Get me a coffee?” he asked.
“Sure,” Clements said. “Back in a minute.”
Might as well see what the job involves, Jeff thought. He went back to the keyboard. “Let’s see,” he mused. “Keywords ‘MAKASSAR’ and ‘EXPORT CONTRABAND.’ Now the library search function …”
“MAKASSAR EXPORT CONTRABAND: NO ITEMS LISTED” appeared on the main working screen.
“Aha, “Jefferson said.
“Coffee time.” Clements came in carrying two plastic cups and set one on Jeff’s desk. “I just remembered, you’ve been to Makassar. Job’s natural for you.” He glanced at the screen. “Looks like you drew an easy one.”
“Maybe. It’s for sure there’s not much there.” He typed in “CONTINUE DETAIL TRADE/TRAVEL POLICY” and waited.
“MAKASSAR IS CLASSIFIED ‘CLASS 5 PRIMITIVE’ WITH NO SIGNIFICANT TECHNOLOGY NO EXPORT RESTRICTIONS. SUFFICIENT SAMPLINGS INDICATE NO EPIDEMIC DISEASES. FULL SPECTRUM IMMUNIZATIONS REQUIRED FOR LANDING OR EXIT FROM PLANET.
“THREE ADDICTING DRUGS ARE KNOWN TO BE PREPARED ON MAKASSAR BUT THEY ARE UNATTRACTIVE AND THERE IS NO MARKET FOR THEM. FOR FURTHER DETAILS SEE ‘MAKASSAR — GENERAL.’
“IMPORT RESTRICTIONS: SEVERE IM—” The flow of words was cut off as Jeff touched more keys.
“See?” Clements said. “An easy job.”
“Still takes time I don’t have.”
“Poor you. How’s your romance going?”
Jefferson shrugged. “I told her about Moties,” he said. “And the possible alert.”
“I gather she wasn’t pleased.”
Jeff snorted. “You could say it that way.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Hell, Adnan, I don’t know. I like the Navy.”
“Five hundred hours ago you couldn’t talk about anything but resigning. Get married and become a colonist. Found a new dynasty, to hear you talk.”