Out on the horizon he could see the cutter in sharp silhouette. A light winked a brief signal, and he turned away from it, not bothering to read it, and watched the sun drop slowly into the water, savoring the stillness, feeling oddly and curiously at peace.
“Jason?”
It was Annabelle’s voice, whispering into the stillness of near dusk, carrying from the pier across the coral to the beach. He turned, and nodded, and walked slowly toward the pier with the sun behind him. He could see Annabelle standing in vague sun-washed gloom near the white boat, the boat tinted gold and orange by the drowning sun, her face a blur, her silhouette softened by the fading light. He stopped beside her and took her hand, and together they turned to watch the disappearing sun, the ocean consuming it, the sky turning violently red and then purple, the red tones extinguished by the water, blue dominating the horizon, spreading, the suddenness of a single star.
“The cutter just signaled,” she whispered. “They want us.”
“Right,” he said.
Lying in the darkness beneath the port sleeping berth, Luke heard the boat starting and then felt it moving away from the pier. There were footsteps above, and then the sound of muffled voices just outside the stateroom, someone greeting the newcomer, another voice, someone laughing. He heard the footsteps moving closer to the stateroom door, an indistinct voice, and suddenly the door opened, “...right in here, honey, like I told you,” Jason’s voice said.
“But I’m not tired,” a woman’s voice said.
“I know, honey,” Jason said. “But you can lie down, anyway, can’t you? We’ll leave the door open so we can talk, okay?”
“All right,” the woman said.
Luke held his breath. The woman had undoubtedly moved into the stateroom; he could hear the shuffle of her feet not six inches from where his head rested behind the sliding door of the locker. He drew his chin back into his chest instinctively, as if certain her unseen feet would touch him momentarily, even though the sliding locker door was between them.
“You need some help there?” Jason asked.
“No, I can manage.”
Luke heard a small grunt as the woman lifted herself onto the berth. Above his head the wooden base of the berth creaked as it took her weight.
“How’s that?” Jason asked. “Comfy?”
“Yes, it’s fine. This is silly,” the woman said. “We’ll be out to the cutter in no time.”
“You need all the rest you can get,” Jason said.
“Why?” the woman answered, her voice suddenly sharp. “So I can be ready for annihilation tomorrow morning?”
There was a long silence. When Jason spoke again, it was not in answer to the woman’s question. He seemed to have turned away from her to address the third person in the cabin outside.
“How’s the skipper taking all this?” he asked.
“Not much he can do about it, Jase,” a man’s voice answered.
“Where’ve we got him?”
“Locked in his cabin. Alex had one of the boys weld some two-inch chain to the bulkhead and the door.”
“Is he having any trouble with the ship?”
“He’s got the engines warming up now. Just waiting for us to come aboard, that’s all.”
“Good,” Jason said.
“I’d better get topside, see how Clay and Benny are doing.”
“Right.”
There was another silence. Luke heard retreating footsteps. The footsteps died, but the cabin remained silent. Luke made a mental count of people aboard. There was Jason and the woman, the two named Clay and Benny who were topside, and the one who had just left to join them. Five.
“Annabelle?” Jason said.
“Mmm?”
“You want your baby to grow up in a world where he’s got to be afraid all the time?”
“Jason...”
“Is that what you want for your baby?”
“I’m doing this with you,” Annabelle said.
“I know you are.”
“Then all right.”
“What you said before isn’t all right,” Jason said.
“I meant it.”
“No, you didn’t mean it.”
“Don’t tell me what I mean or don’t mean, Jase. Tomorrow morning you’re going to blow up my unborn baby, aren’t you? Well, if that’s what you’re going to do, then I’ve got a right to—”
“If that’s all the further you can see—”
“Jason, I wish to hell you’d—”
“—just about past the tip of your nose.”
“Jason, let it alone,” Annabelle said. “Let’s not even talk about it any more.”
“If all you’re concerned about is your own personal self and your baby, well, that’s something else again. I happen to be worrying about all the other unborn babies, Annabelle, all the babies that won’t even get a chance to be born if we let the Commies—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, the hell with the Commies!”
“You’re tired,” he said gently.
“I’m not tired.”
“What you did today—”
“Jason, please leave me alone. I don’t want to know about what I did today, and I don’t want to know about what we’re going to do tomorrow. I just want to forget all about it, all right? You’re going on about this the same way you went on about...”
Annabelle stopped talking.
“About what?” Jason said.
“Nothing.”
“About the Jap whore,” Jason said.
Annabelle said nothing.
“Right? About the Jap whore, right?”
“I don’t know what she was.”
“She was a whore.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Take my word for it.”
“I know you too well,” Annabelle said.
“She was a lying old bitch!” Jason shouted. “And anyway, what the hell has she got to do with this, would you mind telling me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You bet you don’t know.”
“I only know what you wrote me.” Annabelle paused. “And I know what the others said.”
“What others?”
“The others.” Her voice was very low.
“The newspaper, you mean? Stars and Stripes?”
Annabelle remained silent.
“That’s an Army paper. What did you expect them to say? That I was innocent?”
“Were you, Jason?”
“Yes!”
“Then why did they throw you out of the Navy?”
“Because...”
“Because the woman told the truth, Jason.”
The cabin fell silent. Luke, cramped into the space beneath the berth, heard the wood above him creak again, and knew that Annabelle had shifted her position.
“Why are you in this with me?” Jason asked suddenly.
“You’re my husband.”
“That’s no reason.”
“It’s enough reason.”
“You want to know what I think?”
“I don’t care what you think,” Annabelle said sharply. “I’m scared!”
“You’re not scared!”
“I don’t want to die. My baby...”
“The hell with your baby!”
“Jason...”
“I said the hell with your baby, you hear me? I say the hell with all babies that come from chickenshit bellies like yours! How can you talk about dying when we’ve got the whole future of the world right here in the palms of our hands, right here in these hands? You talk about dying, you little bitch? Hold up your goddamn head!”
“Jason...”
“Look at me. Hold up your head.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hold up your head.”
From above somewhere a voice called down to Jason. He did not answer. “Jason,” the voice shouted again, “we’re coming alongside the cutter.”