The air was fuggy. Too many bodies, too much breathing, not enough decent atmospheric processing.
‘This is a dump,’ remarked Ree Perday. The cots were stacked three deep and close together. It was a forest of prone bodies. There was virtually no room to stow the band’s instruments.
‘Well, it’s our dump,’ said Bandmaster Yerolemew. moving through the rows. He tapped an empty bunk with his baton.
‘Who’s not here?’
‘Pol Cohran, sergeant major,’ said Gorus.
‘Where is he?’
‘Acceleration sickness, sergeant major,’ said Perday.
‘Cohran doesn’t get acceleration sickness,’ said Yerolemew.
‘He does this time,’ said Erish.
‘White as an undershirt,’ muttered Gorus.
‘Not one of your undershirts,’ said Perday.
‘Settle down,’ said the bandmaster.
‘Maybe the bandsman needs to see a medicae?’ asked Commissar Blenner. He’d been watching from the end of a bunk row.
‘Didn’t see you there, sir!’ snapped Yerolemew, straightening fast. The others began to move.
‘Please don’t,’ said Blenner, coming forwards. He took off his cap. It always took the sting out, he thought, when the cap came off. ‘This isn’t an official inspection. I just came to greet you, make sure you were stowed.’
‘That’s kind of you, sir,’ said Yerolemew.
‘I can afford to be kind now, sergeant,’ said Blenner. ‘You can pay me back later by behaving yourselves.’
He crooked an eyebrow to the crowd and got a little chuckle.
‘You’ll find I’m a pretty fair sort, generally. Come to me in good faith and I’ll always hear you out. Thank your lucky stars my name’s not Hark.’
More laughter, and it was genuine.
‘Anything to report so far? The facilities suiting your needs?’
‘Pardon me, sir,’ said Perday, ‘but there’s precious little room to store our instruments.’
‘No, there isn’t, is there?’ said Blenner glancing around. ‘Gaunt said something about storing them… where was it now? Airgate sixty.’
Still more laughter, some of it outraged.
‘I know, I know!’ said Blenner. ‘No respect, is there? No respect for the simple, pure, uplifting decency that is a colours band. Am I right?’
It seemed he was.
‘I tell you what we’re going to do,’ he said. ‘This mission, it’s pretty vital. It’s dangerous too, I won’t lie. But what we’re going to do is spend the time proving that a marching unit is indispensable to the regiment. Indispensable! As soldiers and as musicians, you’re going to prove your worth.’
That got a big cheer.
‘Fury of Belladon!’ Blenner tossed in for good measure, and circled his raised hand like a potentate on a balcony taking a march-past.
As they began to settle again, he turned to the sergeant major.
‘I was looking for your commanding officer,’ said Blenner.
‘I can show you to his quarters,’ Yerolemew replied. ‘I was just settling the company.’
‘You carry on, sergeant major,’ said Blenner. ‘I’m sure somebody else can show me. That young girl, for example. She seems very accommodating.’
‘Perday?’ called Yerolemew.
‘Sir, yes, sir!’
‘Kindly show Commissar Blenner through to Captain Wilder’s quarters.’
Perday jumped up.
‘This way, sir,’ she said.
She led him off the bustling berthing deck and onto a rather more gloomy corridor where the officers had been given cabins. The deck was a mesh. Below, there was a maintenance trench and a sluice.
‘What’s your name, trooper?’ asked Blenner.
‘Ree Perday, sir.’
‘Ree. Ree. And what’s that short for?’
‘Uhm, Ree, sir.’
‘I see,’ said Blenner. Not one to be deflected, he pressed on. ‘And where are you from, Ree Perday?’
‘Belladon, sir.’
‘Yes, silly of me to ask.’
In the shadow of a maintenance hatch in the trench below, the thing with Pol Cohran’s face watched them pass overhead. He had hidden so he could relax the tension in his face again. Bones clacked as cranial kinesis reasserted Cohran’s visage.
‘What was that?’ asked Blenner.
‘I didn’t hear anything, sir,’ said Perday.
‘I hope it wasn’t rats,’ said Blenner. ‘I do hate rats.’
‘Oh, yes, sir.’
‘Especially when you spot them leaving the ship first.’
Perday laughed, and knocked on a cabin door. It was open.
‘Sir? Captain?’ she called. She peered inside.
‘Oh, Throne,’ he heard her say.
Blenner pushed past her. The cabin was small and unfriendly. Wilder was sprawled on the deck. He’d been sick at least once. The smell of amasec was pungent.
Blenner rolled him over. He was bonelessly limp, but he was still breathing. There were fumes coming off him you could have lit with a lucifer.
‘Oh, you bloody idiot,’ Blenner muttered.
‘What do we do, sir?’ asked Perday.
‘Go get a mop, Perday, and a pail of water,’ said Blenner. ‘Don’t tell anybody why. When you come back, watch the door and don’t let anybody in.’
She looked at him, helpless and anxious.
‘Go on.’
She hurried out.
Blenner sighed, and then hoisted Wilder up and carried him over to the bunk. He groaned in his stupor.
‘I could just shoot you for this, you realise that?’ said Blenner.
Wilder opened his eyes, but there wasn’t much of anything in there.
‘You’re a bloody fool,’ said Blenner. ‘I gave you a chance tonight, and you’ve already screwed it up. There’s going to come a point when I can’t help you any more, do you understand?’
Wilder closed his eyes.
‘Can’t and won’t,’ said Blenner.
Perday reappeared.
‘Where’s the mop, girl?’ Blenner asked.
‘Sir, I was just looking for one, sir, but I thought you should know. Company inspection, sir. Company inspection right now.’
‘Throne, Wilder, you’ll be the death of me,’ said Blenner. He got up.
‘Perday, use the jug of water there, and get a spare shirt or vest out of his holdall. Try to mop up this mess. Quickly, now.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Blenner put his cap on and went to the cabin door. Baskevyl, Sloman and Edur had just appeared at the end of the corridor; walking, talking.
‘Blenner,’ said Edur. ‘I was going to invite you to join us, but I couldn’t find you.’
‘I was already inspecting,’ Blenner said. He pulled the cabin door shut behind him, so they couldn’t see in past him.
‘Inspecting?’ asked Edur.
‘More a meet and greet. I didn’t know a surprise formal was due?’
‘Standard Belladon practice to spring a surprise on a new intake during the first thirty-six hours,’ said Baskevyl.
‘Perhaps you should familiarise me with some standard Belladon practice,’ said Blenner. ‘Seeing as the Belladon are my special responsibility.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Baskevyl. ‘I didn’t mean to cut you out of the process. I should have consulted you.’
‘No harm done.’
‘Would you like to walk in with us now? Maybe Captain Wilder too?’
Blenner pulled a face. He dropped his voice and leaned in close.
‘There’s a slight problem,’ he said. ‘The captain’s been struck down with a nasty bout of acceleration sickness.’
‘Really?’ said Baskevyl.
‘Nasty.’ Blenner nodded. ‘It’s widespread, actually. More than one bandsman has got it. I’ll be sending for a medicae to give everyone a check. The thing is, Wilder could join us, but he looks like death warmed over, and frankly I don’t want him losing face by seeming weak in front of the men.’