Martinez read the charges given him by the constable/ first, who stood braced as far back as a Naxid could rear. He signed the charge sheet, presented in electronic form on the constable’s overlarge datapad, and then the other document accepting custody of the prisoners, and as he did so, he sensed the Naxids twitching at the presence of something behind him. He turned.
Squadron Commander Kulukraf, Fanaghee’s flag captain, was marching along the ring with a pack of twenty or so of his officers. Martinez figured that the Naxid MCs were twitching as they tried to restrain the impulse to grovel in the face of someone so senior.
Martinez sent electronic copies of the documents to his station onCorona, then handed the datapad back. “You can take off their handcuffs, constable,” he said.
“Very good, my lord.”
The crouchbacks, released from restraint, rubbed their wrists and eyed the MCs sidelong, as if tempted by the idea of clouting them now that their fists were free. Martinez decided to cut this dangerous thought off with some ideas of his own.
“You have twenty minutes to shower, clean up, and present yourselves to Rigger Chaves for fatigues. The captain will hear your wretched excuses and award punishment in the morning. Get moving.”
The recruits moved. Martinez smiled, and considered which toilets needed cleaning and which brassware most needed polishing.All, he decided.
He turned back to the head constable. “Thank you, constable. You may-”
He noticed that the constable was braced at the salute facing into the ring, and the other constables with him. Martinez whipped around and braced.
Squadron Commander Kulukraf had moved closer and was pointing atCorona’s hatch with one dark-scaled hand. The Naxid officers looked from Kulukraf toCorona, then to their sleeve displays and back to Kulukraf again. Red patterns on their chests flashed complex patterns at one another, the chameleon-weave jackets transmitting the color shifts of the beaded scales beneath. None of them spoke.
Kulukraf ignored Martinez and the others braced at the docking tube, then made his way onward, fast-moving feet beating at the rubberized surface of the ring station’s main thoroughfare. Martinez watched him go, then relaxed.
“Thank you, constable,” he repeated. “You may go.”
“Very good, my lord.” The constables braced briefly, turned, and thrashed deck after Kulukraf.
Curious, Martinez looked after Kulukraf. The Naxid squadcom and his officers had stopped at the next docking tube on the station, that of the light cruiserPerigee, and were going through the same routine, pausing and staring and making notes.
“The squadcom was here yesterday with a different bunch,” Dietrich volunteered.
“Was he?” Martinez looked at him. “Do you know what he’s up to?”
“No idea, Lord Lieutenant. They just flashed at each other, like today.”
Martinez wondered if there was some kind of big surprise inspection scheduled. But only a total swine of a fleetcom would schedule an inspection two days before the Festival of Sport.
Right, he thought. And Fanaghee wasn’t exactly known for dripping sweet compassion over her subordinates, was she?
Martinez decided he’d better have a quiet word with the warrant officers who ran each of the ship’s departments. And, while he was at it, make sure his own communications rigs, both the primary and auxiliary, were immaculate, and his subordinates at their most presentable.
“May I speak with you privately?”
Lord Richard Li was the only person at the reception besides Sula who was wearing dress whites, and Sula only wore her uniform because she didn’t have anything elegant or expensive enough for this company. Lord Richard, she presumed, had some other reason.
“Privately?” Sula looked at him in surprise. “Yes, of course.”
It was Terza Chen, Lord Richard’s fiancee, who had invited her to this function at the ornate Chen Palace, but Terza had glided off in her elegant way, and left Sula with Lord Richard.
He took Sula’s arm and led her to a library off the front hall, dark wood carved with a pattern of holly, and ancient leather-bound books sealed behind glass, their delicate contents preserved by a mixture of rare gases. The sight made Sula want to lunge for the cabinets, pop the seals, and indulge in an orgy of reading.
On the desk was a small fountain, water trickling over small stones, that gave the air a slight scent of brine. Lord Richard gazed at the fountain for a moment, then turned to face Sula.
“Lord Richard?”
“I heard about theMidnight Runner verdict,” he said. A Fleet Court of Inquiry had just proclaimed Blitsharts’s death an accident, the result of a faulty water intake coupling.
“Unfortunately it’s only thefirst Midnight Runner verdict,” Sula said. “There’s going to be a lawsuit before the insurance company will part with any money. They’re going to say that Blitsharts damaged the coupling intentionally. So I’ll be stuck here giving depositions for years, unless I can get ship duty.”
A smile crossed Lord Richard’s chiseled features. “Well, as to that,” he said, “I’ve just returned from the Commandery. That’s why I’m in uniform. The announcement won’t be made for a few days, but I’ve been informed that I’ll have command of theDauntless when it comes out of refit. We’ll be joining the Second Cruiser Division, Home Fleet.”
“Congratulations, my lord.”Dauntless was a new heavy cruiser finishing its first refit, with everything that hadn’t worked properly on its first tour repaired, replaced, or redesigned. It was a perfect command for this stage of Lord Richard’s career, and spoke well of Fleet Commander Jarlath’s confidence in him.
“I know you’ll do well,” Sula said.
“Thank you.” Lord Richard inclined his head as he looked at Sula. Behind him the little fountain chimed.
“You know,” he said, “that I get to promote two lieutenants intoDauntless when I get command of her. In view of your family’s kindness to mine over many years, I wish to offer you one of those places.”
Sula’s heart gave a surprised little skip. A captain’s promotions were usuallyquid pro quo arrangements within or between families-“I’ll promote your youngster, and you’ll see my cousin gets the supply contract for the satellite relays on Sandama.” But Sula didn’t have anything to offer in exchange. This was pure kindness on Lord Richard’s part.
Sula found herself flushing with the effort to compose her thanks. Composing thanks wasn’t one of the things she did well. “Thank you, Lord Richard,” she managed. “I–I appreciate your-your confidence.”
He smiled with his perfect white teeth. Sula observed little crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. “We’ll consider it done, then,” Lord Richard said.
“Ah…my lord.” She felt herself flush. “You know that I’ve been cramming for my exams.”
“Yes. Well, now that won’t be necessary. You can enjoy yourself.” Lord Richard began to step toward the exit across the deep pile of the Tupa carpeting.
“I was going for a first, my lord,” Sula said. Lord Richard hesitated in mid-stride.
“Really?” he said.
“Ah…yes.” Her cheeks must be pouring out nova heat, she thought.
“Do you think you have a chance?”
There, Sula reflected, was the key question. The cadet who achieved a first-the highest score of all lieutenants’ exams given throughout the empire during a year-was almost certain to acquire a name in the service, and very possibly some patrons to go with it. She wouldn’t be dependent entirely on Lord Richard for promotion: with a first, many more doors would open to her.