I knew that I could gain nothing by playing his game. So there we sat, nobody speaking, a verbal standoff in an undeclared mutiny. The standoff lasted for nearly a minute, no one wanting to be the first one to speak. The first officer to do so would lose face.
I was the one who ended it. “Where do we stand on the blockade?”
“What blockade?” asked Franks.
“I issued orders for a blockade around Terraneau,” I said. “I sent those orders to Master Chief Warshaw. Do you know if he received them?”
“He did,” Fahey interrupted, offering no more information.
“And do you know if he has drawn up plans for the blockade?”
“Yes.”
“Yes? Yes, he drew up plans?”
“Yes, I know if he drew up the plans,” answered Fahey, a smug grin forming on his lips.
Taking a deep breath, fighting the urge to rip the man’s throat out, I asked, “Okay, so has he drawn up plans, Senior Chief?”
“Nope.”
“Do you know why he has not carried out my orders?”
“He was busy, so he passed the orders to me.” Fahey raised a hand to stop me, the way a senior officer might raise a hand to quiet a subordinate. But I was not a subordinate. I was the senior officer in the meeting. “I have not drawn up the plans. There’s no point to establishing a blockade around a planet in an arm that we have all to ourselves.
“We’re the only ones here, sir. Haven’t you figured that out?”
If Herrington had been here, he might well have pulled his gun and shot Fahey on the spot. Old-school Marines like Herrington had no time for this kind of shit. God I missed Herrington.
This time, however, Fahey had given me all the ammunition I would need. “Okay, Senior Chief, so you have taken it upon yourself to countermand Master Chief Warshaw’s orders. Is that correct? Before I have you arrested, would you like to explain why you have ignored a direct order from Master Chief Warshaw?”
It had not occurred to Fahey that he had unintentionally attached Warshaw to the orders. The self-satisfied grin suddenly melted. “Captain, I guess I do not see why Terraneau would need a protective blockade.”
“You don’t?” I asked.
Now he was in full retreat. “No, sir. We have no enemies in this Arm, the Broadcast Network is down, and the aliens do not use ships. Having a blockade won’t make a bit of difference if they return.”
“And you only comply with orders you agree with? Is that correct, Senior Chief?” I asked.
“No, sir,” he said.
“Fahey, are you unable to obey orders or simply selective about which orders you follow?” I snapped out each syllable of each word, speaking slowly. “Should I charge you with dereliction of duty or mutiny?”
“Mutiny?”
“Okay, mutiny it is,” I said.
“No, no, I was asking you, are you charging me with mutiny?”
“Master Chief Warshaw gave you an order, and you chose to ignore it. He did give you the order to draw up a blockade? Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you decided against it?”
“I can draw up the plans and have them to you within the hour,” Fahey said.
“That would be acceptable, Senior Chief,” I said.
I turned to the other men in the room, and asked, “Do any of the rest of you have concerns that I need to know about?” When none of them said anything, I ended the meeting.
Watching the various NCOs file out of the room, I took stock of my situation. My fleet was stranded in space, my first lieutenant was openly mutinous, and the captain of my Marines had a Fallzoud habit. The only planet my fleet could reach wanted nothing to do with us, and I wanted to start a war with the nation that had created me. I wondered if things could get any worse.
I soon discovered that they could.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“You need to bust that prick down,” Thomer said, once the sailors left the room. “Slam his gay ass in the brig.”
“He isn’t gay,” said Hollingsworth.
“What do you mean he isn’t gay?” Thomer asked. “The son of a bitch comes to staff meetings wearing makeup.”
“Why do you think he wants to get to Norristown so bad?” Hollingsworth shouted the question. “Thomer, you don’t know how good you had it.”
As always, Thomer received that last comment with a certain lethargy. In an unnaturally subdued voice, he said, “We were massacred by aliens and locked in relocation camps.”
“That’s not what I meant. I know they ran you through the wringer.” Thomer’s slow demeanor had a calming effect on Hollingsworth. He lowered his voice.
“The enlisted men on this ship have not seen a woman for four years. Until you guys came with plans to retake Terraneau, we had no reason to think any of us would ever see one again. Do you know what that does to a man?
“They’re clones, Thomer, not eunuchs. If anything, their gonads are too active.
“Given a choice between a few months in a prison camp and a life sentence on a ship with nothing but men, which way would you go?”
“What about the makeup?” I asked.
Hollingsworth shrugged his shoulders and said, “Most clones would much rather give than receive. Men who are a little more, er, uh, flexible wear makeup to identify themselves.”
“You thought you would never see a woman again?” Thomer asked. Sympathy showed in his eyes, but the downturn at the corners of his mouth made it clear he found the whole thing revolting.
“Wait, now …You and Fahey didn’t …you know?” I asked.
“No,” Hollingsworth said. “We weren’t even on the same ship.”
“Did you …you know?”
“Thomer, I didn’t think I’d ever see any scrub again.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Thomer said, sounding unconvinced.
It was time to put my cards on the table.
I looked over at Thomer and said, “Sergeant, I need to have a private chat with Sergeant Hollingsworth.” He left without saying a word.
I could not trust Fahey and probably not Warshaw. Lilburn Franks seemed more interested in running the fleet than politics, but he was the only one. Because of the normally adversarial relationship between swabbies and sea soldiers, I thought I could count on Hollingsworth and the other Marines who came with the fleet. I hoped I could.
Now that it was just me and Hollingsworth in the room, I turned to him, and said, “Do you know what happens if you kill all the rattlesnakes? You get silent snakes instead.
“The only reason I didn’t bust Fahey on the spot was because I always know where he stands. He’s an asshole, but he telegraphs his punches, and that makes him useful. Warshaw’s a different story.”
“Warshaw’s all right,” Hollingsworth said. Nervous that I had asked Thomer to leave, Hollingsworth went into full-fledged fight-or-flight mode. He paced the floor, rapped his knuckles on the table, and spoke in an unnecessarily loud voice. “I know Warshaw much better than I know Fahey, we’ve been on the same ship for six years. He’s all right.”
“You thought Fahey was cool, too,” I pointed out.
“I still do,” Hollingsworth said. “He’s a good sailor. He just …”
“He practically declared a mutiny,” I yelled. “He’s trying to pick a fight with me. Do you know what would happen if I let him goad me into a specking war? Which way do you think his sailors will go?”
Hollingsworth sat down. He leaned back in his chair and considered the question but did not answer.
“Right or wrong, every sailor in Scrotum-Crotch is going to side with Fahey if I bust him,” I said. “Think about that …and while you mull it over, I have another question for you. Where are your loyalties?” I fixed Hollingsworth with an angry glare.
He met my eyes and did not look away. “You know where I stand. I’m a Marine.”
“Good,” I said.
“So if it comes down to a fight between me and Warshaw, I have you at my back?”
“Yes, sir,” Hollingsworth said.
“What if they accuse me of going against regulations?”