Article 23

Chapter VI

"All hands, you are aware of the report of increased solar flare activity. We've just received advance warning from our Mercury Solar Observation Station that an eruption of unprecedented proportions has ignited on the surface of the sun. Background radiation levels are expected to soar nearly eight hundred percent in the next twenty-four hours, with spikes reaching two thousand percent."

Justin looked over at Matt as Doctor Zhing showed the last image broadcast from the Mercury observatory before the storm disrupted all transmissions. It was hard to judge the size of the solar flare by the picture, but Justin guessed it was at least several hundred thousand kilometers across and millions of kilometers long. He hefted the anti-radiation suit that he had just been issued. In spite of zero gravity he judged the suit had several hundred pounds of mass. The only difference between the suit and full EVA gear was that there was no backpack, gloves or faceplate. The extra mass, he guessed was most likely made up of a synthalead lining.

"No sweat," Matt whispered. "I've seen worse; as long as we got the suits on we'll be OK. Heck, this should kick up the solar wind I bet Uncle Dan will have all sails out for this storm."

"As soon as this meeting is over you are all to don your anti-radiation suits," Doctor Zhing continued. "No personnel are to go aft of Bulkhead Four. All personnel housed aft of that position are to double up with personnel forward; room assignments will be posted. The hydroponics deck, which is completely unshielded, is strictly off-limits. The air circulation system that runs aft through the hydroponics deck already has extra baffle shielding inside the air ducts, so we don't have to worry about any contaminated dust particles. The filters are not to be touched, though, until this ship docks and properly shielded and trained personnel remove them. The rest of the lower deck is off-limits as well except for short visits to gather necessary supplies.

"We're going to position the ship so that its long axis is pointed directly back at the sun. The reactor engines and their shields should absorb most of the blow, but radiation inside the ship is expected to rise to a potentially dangerous level. Any questions?"

"How long is this expected to last, sir?" Tanya asked.

"Not sure, maybe for the duration of the run out to Mars. At least we're outbound rather than running in, so that will help somewhat. The interference level is significant, though. We've already lost all communications except on our primary dish, and even that signal's rapidly degrading. The forward edge of the storm is expected to wash over Earth orbit later today, and all communication will most likely be lost except for a few high-powered stations with strong directional focus. That means we're cut off. We're heading into a dead zone anyhow between Mars and Earth, no relay stations, no colonies out here, so skipping signals from high-gain systems aboard large ships is out. I guess we'll be out of touch for a while once the storm hits."

"No Academy assignments," Matt whispered with a smile. "Can't give us homework now."

"Anything else?"

Justin watched as Zhing scanned the group. He had heard a rumor the night before that Zhing had a reputation for getting into the "medicinal alcohol." Because there was so much money to be made aboard an orbital colony or even in the mining camps it was hard to find enough doctors for a flight; sometimes less than the best were recruited and given the rank of Lt. Commander. Either they were straight out of school and looking for a few adventures before settling into a practice, or they were at the tail end of a downwardly spiraling career. I haven't seen any indication of a problem, though, and he does seem kindly enough, Justin thought.

"If there are no further questions, you are dismissed. I'll be around within the hour to check that all of you are in your protective gear. You should know the drill. Avoid exterior walls, keep a sharp eye on your rad — dose meters, and suits should only be removed four times a day, ten minutes at most for going to the bathroom and sorry, that doesn't include time for showers."

Zhing nodded as if in dismissal, but the forward door opened and the assembly snapped to attention as Captain MacKenzie came into the room.

He stood silent for a moment, dark eyes darting back and forth.

"If Doctor Zhing has done his job correctly you've all been informed of our situation," MacKenzie began. "All ship's routines will continue as normal, except where there are safety considerations. The aft engine room has been sealed, the door bolted and secured and engine watch will be run forward in the secondary control center. There is, however, one further announcement.

"An incident occurred on the day of our departure. I felt it best not to discuss it with you for obvious reasons, but circumstances have changed."

Justin shifted uncomfortably. Everybody already knew what had happened from their contacts with Uncle aboard the Academy. Now they were going to hear it officially.

"Yesterday a group of terrorists claiming allegiance to the Mars separatist movement seized a USMC ship in orbit above that planet. A number of civilians are being held hostage with the claim that they had violated certain laws on Mars and as such were to be detained for a local judge and jury to decide their fate.

"Those individuals were engaged in a legitimate business operation chartered by the United Nations, and as such they do not fall under any so-called 'local control.' Besides, such claims are totally without merit. No violation of generally accepted law had occurred. Thus these raiders are no better than pirates and should be treated accordingly and without mercy for that fact alone.

"It is reported as well that an officer aboard the ship allowed these pirates to gain access. There was a report of casualties on both sides. It is disgusting to realize that someone wearing the uniform of the Fleet has turned traitor. This should not come as a surprise, though, to those of us who are loyal and who are at times forced to associate with such scum hiding behind our uniform."

He fell silent for a moment. "Yes, there are traitors in our service, and it is time they were rooted out and smashed like the vermin they are."

He slammed a clenched fist into an open palm as if he were actually performing the act of annihilation, and Justin winced at the sound of the blow.

"This, gentlemen, was an act of mutiny and piracy and as such the regulations are well known execution."

He spat out the last word as if the sound had a certain pleasant ring to it.

"This is not the Academy, it is a ship of the line. There are no kid gloves here like your Thorsson wears. I expect all of you to do your duty.

"The last communication I received from USMC headquarters before communications failed indicates that a full and formal Declaration of Emergency is about to be announced."

Justin took that information in, not sure how to react. It had been nearly ten years since the last Declaration of Emergency had been enacted. The situation had been far worse then, a group of religious extremists in South Central Asia, the Thugees, managed to secretly manufacture and deploy a dozen thermonuclear devices with the intent of destroying the newly created Skyhook tower, claiming that it was an offense against God. It was the last time a nuclear device had been used when a USMC strike force had gone in to destroy the stockpile, the extremists had set a weapon off in an act of self-destruction that had also killed over two hundred strike marines.

"Since we are now out of contact with all higher authority, the rules and regulations regarding the behavior of ship's personnel in time of emergency are now in force."

For the first time Justin suddenly realized that there was something different about MacKenzie. It wasnt just that he was wearing a full anti-radiation suit it was that he had a sidearm strapped to his waist.

"Ship's company dismissed."

Without another word MacKenzie retreated back into the forward section. Zhing, eyes wide, watched the Captain depart and then turned back to the cadets.

"Go on, now," he said quietly. "Run along and get yourselves suited up. Go on!"

With a very unmilitary gesture he waved the cadets off as if they were so many children on a playground. Heading into their room, Justin slid the door shut after his three other roommates came in.

"Hey, a full blown storm," Madison said excitedly. She unstuck one foot and started to slide into her suit.

Going over to the wall Justin turned the ship's computer on, punched in for some music and turned the volume up.

"Come on, Bell, Wagner's a little heavy-handed for all this," Tanya said. "At least put a good Russian composer on."

"Listen up, all of you," he whispered.

Justin turned the volume up even louder and motioned for his three friends to draw in closer. Leonov smiled warily as if he were planning some sort of trick.

"Now listen, I turned the music up so no one can hear us. I don't have a good feeling about this announcement."

"What, the storm?" Matt laughed. "Hey, I've been in one of these suits for weeks at a time, it's a snap. Except that you stink to high heaven after a couple of days the damn things are like a sauna bath gone amok."

"No, stupid," Leonov retorted, " he means that separatist movement incident."

" MacKenzie seemed pissed," Madison added.

"Exactly," Justin replied. "Listen Matt, no joking around. Something's wrong with that guy. Last night when I served him dinner he was talking kind of strange. Something about 'they're all in it together.' And did you see the gun?"

"Yeah, a genuine Walker 8 Laser. Burn a hole through an elephant."

"Never heard of an officer wearing a sidearm aboard a ship," Tanya said.

"Well, the regs say that in an emergency situation, if the Captain feels his ship is threatened, he is authorized to wear a weapon."

"Threatened by whom?" Tanya snapped. "Us?"

"Maybe so, at least in his mind," Justin replied and he looked over at Matt.

"Who, me? What the heck are you talking about? I'm with the USMC. Sure, I might talk about the separatists, but I took the oath of loyalty to the USMC and until they do something that goes against the principles the service claims to stand for, I'm with you guys."

"Well, I wish you had a chance to go out into the lounge and make that pronouncement," Justin replied.

"What for?"

"Do you know that Colson is now the Captains steward for breakfast?"

"No?"

"O'Brian told me this morning. Said Colson came in and told him the Captain had requested his service. I wonder if Colson's been running forward, telling tales and now he's been given an official-looking assignment so he can go forward without people asking questions."

"Yeah, I just remembered," Madison interjected. "Marissa told me that she heard the shouting night before last when Matt here and Colson got into that argument. She said that about a half-hour later she was up in the lounge area and she saw Colson come out of the door leading to officer's country."

"That's not good," Justin said softly.

"So why the music, you want a sound track for your storytelling?" Matt laughed.

"So MacKenzie can't listen in on us, fiat's why," Tanya said.

"Come on, that's against the regs," Madison announced. "Aren't we getting a little paranoid around here?"

"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get me," Justin replied.

A knock on the door interrupted them and surprised Justin looked up as the door started to slide open, wondering if MacKeuzie was going to come barging in. He groaned inwardly when he saw Wendell Colson coming iu, already suited up and carrying his sleeping net and duffel bag.

"I drew this room," Wendell announced.

"Oh great," Matt said, "just like home."

Either not catching or ignoring the sarcasm, Wendell looked around for someplace to hcok his net.

"Looks like we share hooks," Wendell said and reaching up he clipped the top of his net to where Tanya's was secured and stretched tho bottom over to Justin's clip. Justin wondered if it was deliberate, but let it pass.

"The Doc said get your suits on," Wendell said, "and instead you're in here listening to music. Get moving."

"Oh, yes, sir," Matt replied, putting on a high-pitched wheedling voice, "anything you say, sir."

Matt made a big show of disconnecting from the floor, then, while floating up, he slid his feet into the suit and after slowly bouncing off the ceiling he slid his arms in and zipped it shut. Turning end over end he came back to his feet and extended his hands like a circus acrobat.

"Cut the child's play, Everett, this is serious," Wendell snapped.

"Oh but it is serious, though nothing to be afraid of."

"Are you implying I'm afraid?"

"Why, no such thing, old man, not at all."

Wendell stepped closer to Matt.

"If you're calling me a coward, wise-ass, then have die guts to do it straight out. Typical off- worlder, a coward just like your buddies who took that ship."

Matt stopped grinning.

"First of all, stupid, they're not cowards."

Justin groaned, half-tempted to simply clobber his friend.

"Sneaking up and stealing a Fleet ship. MacKenzie was right, they're no better than pirates and deserve execution."

"We don't know the whole story," Matt shot back. "There might have been a justifiable reason for taking that ship."

"Remember what Thorsson said," Justin tried to interject, "no accusing or arguing about"

Matt put a hand out and pushed Justin aside.

"And another thing. If you wanna talk about executing you better be ready to do something about it. There might be friends of mine in that group and no one talks about killing a friend of mine and gets away with it. Death comes too easy out in space as is," Matt hesitated for an instant and then forged ahead, "especially when folks are given cheap equipment and then sent out to die. That's damn close to murder as far as I'm concerned."

"Hey, what the hell is going on in here?"

The group looked up to see Senior Cadet Petronovich in the doorway, hands resting on hips.

"Turn that damn music down!"

Leonov, who was closest to the computer, leaned back and hit the switch to shut it down.

"Now I want a straight answer what gives in here? You could hear shouting half-way down the corridor."

"Oh, nothing, sir," Madison quickly interjected. " Everett here was just telling one of his jokes."

Petronovich eyed her suspiciously. His gaze fell on Colson.

"Mr. Colson, is that true?"

Wendell hesitated for a moment. There was the code, of course, but the mere fact that he hesitated almost seemed to Justin to be a violation in and of itself. "Just a joke, sir," he finally replied coldly.

"All of you are on report, double watch tonight for skylarking around when you should be checking out your safety gear. I want everyone in here suited up in five minutes flat and ready for inspection."

He turned and walked away.

"Thanks a lot," Wendell hissed, "my first punishment detail ever thanks to you."

"No problem at all," Matt replied with a smile.

"Enter."

Justin slipped the door open, moving a bit clumsily due to his anti-radiation suit. MacKenzie was at his computer, the screen displaying a mass of static. Without waiting for orders Justin snapped the dinner on the table and stepped back.

MacKenzie finally stirred and looked up.

"We are cut off, Mr. Bell."

"Sir?"

MacKenzie pointed at the computer. "Totally cut off. Ever read Coleridge, cadet?"

"My grandfather read some to me."

'Alone, alone, all alone, alone on a windswept sea,' " MacKenzie intoned somberly. "Like the ancient days at sea. From the moment you weighed anchor till the chain rattled back down a captain was alone, the deck of his ship the entire span of the universe he controlled. Not like today, with some fat-butted bureaucrat of an admiral barking orders at you from seventy-five million kilometers away. He, safe in his office on Earth, most likely never stood a watch alone a hundred million kilometers from home. Never stood alone"

His voice trailed off.

Justin waited, knowing better than to stir or offer a comment in return.

"This is as it was, as it should be," MacKenzie said softly. "Forty years I've served, only as captain of a light cruiser, but still I served loyally while others far more glib and far better connected maneuvered behind me, gaining the rights and power that should be mine. But here here I am the power as it was and as it should be."

Sighing, he stood up and slowly moved to the table, walking as if his anti-radiation suit was the burden of a martyr. He sat down, leaning over to noisily sip his soup through a straw.

"This crisis, this separatist movement, never would have started if they had listened to me and other line officers. We were out there, patrolling the edges, watching the riffraff move in and take over. We protested and we tried to enforce the laws, but the bleeding-heart do-gooders at headquarters always blocked us. Men like your Thorsson."

Justin shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to voice a protest in defense of a man whom he considered to be his friend as well as his commanding officer. But, sensing that now was not the time, he dutifully remained silent.

"Even with my back turned I know you don't like what I said, Mr. Bell. A good Captain can sense such things. The way you drew your breath in. Do you have something to say to me, Bell?"

"No, sir."

MacKenzie chuckled softly. "Now I remember the name. Your father served under me. Not much older than you, then. Rare, an honest lad. Died well from what I heard. You must have inherited his traits. Blood will tell, Mr. Bell, it always does."

"Thank you, sir."

" Your Thorsson. Norwegian. Not British, not American like you or me. The United Nations allowed such to gain power. How we ever agreed to the creation of the United Space Military Command, even if it was chartered and designed by us; well, it's madness. They're the ones who allow these separatists to flourish. Out on the edge it's lawlessness, anarchy. I know, Mr. Bell, I know And his voice drifted off into silence.

So much was being said that Justin barely had time to sort out all the implications of MacKenzie's onesided conversation before the Captain started again.

"I think, Mr. Bell, that this separatist crisis is deeper, more insidious than any are willing to admit. I know I've heard the traitorous utterances, even in the halls of the highest command. I tell you, Bell, there is only one thing holding humanity together and that is the Service."

"Yes, sir," Justin replied, feeling that at least there was one thing he could agree with.

"We, the line officers, must take a stand. If not, those lily-livers back on Earth, in league with the traitors with whom they make believe they are negotiating but are really secretly helping they will destroy us all. A firm hand, Bell, a very firm hand, that's what's needed. Don't you agree?"

Justin hesitated for a second.

"A captain commands his ship," Justin replied, hoping that his noncommittal answer would be viewed as support.

MacKenzie turned and looked Justin in the eyes.

"Have you read the book I assigned?"

"The first few hundred pages, sir," Justin replied, stretching the truth slightly. There were parts of the story he enjoyed, especially the details about how the old sailing ships and whalers operated, but the deeper stuff was throwing him off and he had skimmed entire

chapters.

"Ahab saw the evil behind the mask," MacKenzie said. "'Others could not, but he did."

He smiled. "It is the thing behind the mask I chiefly hate.

"There's much to be learned there, much indeed. I'll need you to finish reading that, Mr. Bell, by tomorrow night if you please."

Justin inwardly groaned. "Yes, sir."

"Have you heard anything, Mr. Bell?"

"Heard anything, sir?"

MacKenzie leaned forward.

"Inappropriate things. Dirty secrets, the little glimmers that evil can not conceal and which reveal what is hidden behind the mask. I know, Mr. Bell, I know about such things, oh indeed I do."

"No, sir, nothing, sir."

"You're a fool then, Bell," MacKenzie snapped.

He remained silent again for a moment and then ever so gradually a smile crossed his face.

"Any stray talk. A slip of the tongue, or a dark and dirty secret shared with someone you think is a friend, Mr. Bell?"

"No, sir, nothing, sir." Justin replied, trying to not let his voice betray just how nervous he was. Somehow he was convinced that Golson had been spreading stories about Matt and the Captain was now looking for confirmation.

"Perhaps you need a lesson, Bell, perhaps everyone does. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Justin backed out of the room and started down the corridor.

"Mr. Bell?"

Surprised, Justin looked up and saw Doctor Zhing standing in the doorway of his cabin.

"Come in here, son," Zhing announced loudly, I want to check your dose meter."

Justin stepped into the room, a bit confused because a quick glance to the tag on his chest would have shown that so far his exposure had been less than half a rad.

Zhing peeked out into the corridor then slid the door shut. He made a display of leaning over to check the meter, then motioned for Justin to stand at ease.

"How are you, son?"

"Fine, sir. No problem. The suit's a bit clumsy but we'll get used to it."

"What did you and the Captain talk about? I see you going in there every evening."

"I've been assigned as his steward for dinner," Justin said.

"Why?"

"I don't know, sir. Guess it was just the luck of the draw. O'Brian sent me down with dinner the first night and the Captain asked that I serve him for the remainder of the voyage."

"Good, that means he trusts you, at least for now." Zhing hesitated. "The same way he seems to trust young Mr. Colson."

"Sir?"

"Oh, the Captain knows the family and its connections. Your Mr. Colson has a powerful family, he does. When the Captain first saw the roster he recognized the name immediately."

"Sir, we're all cadets on this trip," Justin replied, curious about Zhing's comment. "Of course we can be trusted."

To his surprise Zhing leaned over, switched on the computer and dialed in some music.

"Did he talk to you at all about secrets? Or about the separatists?"

Justin wasn't sure how to respond.

"Son, as medical officer on this voyage I have the right to any information that might impact on my duty to monitor the health of this crew," he hesitated for a moment then dropped his voice to a whisper, "and that includes the Captain."

Taken aback Justin didn't know how to reply. He suddenly wished that Thorsson or his grandfather were here. This entire situation was not shaping up to what he had expected the service to be. Somehow, whenever he was done talking to MacKenzie he left feeling unclean, as if there were something wrong that he should feel guilty about but wasn't quite sure what.

"Sir, I'm not sure, sir," Justin replied.

"I'm concerned, Bell. I've served four cruises on this ship with that man. I retire in less than a year. Just a few more runs," he said dreamily, "just as long as I don't run afoul of that man."

The way he said "that man" surprised Justin; there was a note of disdain, but his eyes betrayed a look of fear.

"Sir. He talked about the separatists and how he doesn't like them."

Zhing laughed coldly. "Has reason not to. You know about his wife, don't you?"

Justin shook his head.

"She left him some years ago. Messy situation. What with him gone for months, years at a time. It happens a lot in the service."

Justin thought of his own mother, the memories of when he was a boy and his father was shipping out. The long months of waiting, the anxiety and fears. But she was always there for him when he returned. He wondered how such a blow would affect a man and how he would learn to live with it afterwards.

"She's one of the leaders now," Zhing continued. "She's said some embarrassing things about fleet officers in general and him in particular through the years. They think she might've been one of the participants in the seizure of the Gustavus."

Justin didn't know how to reply, wondering why the doctor was even sharing this information.

"Did he say anything about her?"

"No, sir, he didn't."

Zhing nodded and leaned closer. "Now listen, son. If anything troubles you, you come to me with it. I've been around a bit. You young pups from the Academy, they feed you a lot of sweetness and sunshine. There might be ships like that, but this universe is a damn big place. Frontiers draw all types, some good like Thorsson, some not."

He stopped as if cutting off something that he wanted to add.

"Anyhow, it's only eleven more days out maybe this will all blow over. But then again, this has been building for some time. Not just here but on board a lot of ships where men like MacKenzie, passed over for promotion and forgotten on long and distant patrols, are left in the backwaters but have to handle all the dirty situations with little thanks. So keep your ears open."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Zhing?"

The voice cut through the noise of the music. Zhing, startled, straightened up.

"Yes, Captain."

'To my cabin if you please. And Zhing, why the loud music? I can hear it all the way down the corridor."

Zhing, fear in his eyes, opened the door and peeked out. Silently he motioned for Justin to leave.

"Sorry, Captain. On my way, sir."

Justin slipped out into the hallway, afraid but not sure why. Zhing again motioned for Justin to hurry up.

"Gangway."

He turned, startled, as Petronovich came past moving quickly. Not bothering to hang around to see what was up, Justin went through the door into the lounge, leaving officer country behind.

The room was half-full. The portside watch had just stood down and dinner was over. The instant he came into the room he could sense the tension. Something was wrong it was the way the cadets were clustered into groups, talking in low whispers, some raising their heads to look about.

He saw Tanya and Madison sitting in a corner with a chessboard between them, but neither one was looking at the board. He drifted over to where Leonov and Smith were playing. Even though sitting in a chair didn't serve any real function in zero gravity, he settled into one anyhow. Sitting in space still survived, at least as a social custom.

Leonov looked up.

"So how did it go up there with the Ice Man?"

Justin looked around nervously. "I wish you wouldn't call him that."

Tanya laughed softly. "That's what everyone on board calls him."

"Don't ask. It's just getting weird. That's all." He figured it was best not to mention the conversation with Doctor Zhing.

Off in the far corner he saw Matt and several other cadets sitting, leaning forward and talking.

"Matt OK?"

"Oh, you missed it," Madison said.

"Missed what?"

"He and Wendell had another argument."

Justin groaned.

" Petronovich had to break it up."

"Let me guess, the separatists."

"Exactly. Those three Matt's sitting with. All are off worlders. Marissa Iivollen, Collin Bugniazet you remember he was captain of the team we beat at falcon flying during the summer and Abdul Amin. It got a little heated with Wendell and a couple of the others, those guys around him all shouting at each other."

Justin looking around the room and found that he could sort out everything. Matt and his followers in one comer, Wendell and his in the other corner, both sides whispering, pausing to shoot dark looks at each other while other groups of cadets, trying to stay neutral, gathered on the opposite side of the room. Justin thought the setting looked like a scene from a bad vid, a barroom in the old West, two rival groups sitting in opposite corners waiting for the showdown to begin.

"They're all on report," Madison announced. "I tell you, this one's gonna hit the fan when we get back to the Academy. Colson called Matt a cheap sailor. I have to give Matt credit he tried to laugh it off at first, but then Colson called him a damn liar. That set Matt off and the show started. There are gonna be a lotta black marks in files, and double duty."

"So that's why I passed Petronovich going forward in an all-fired hurry," Justin whispered.

"Yeah, off to squeal to the Captain, I bet," Madison said. "Uh-oh, looks like something brewing again."

Madison stood up and pushed off, floating across the room towards Mart's group. Marissa Livollen was starting to get up as if ready to go over to the opposite table.

"Maybe I should help," Justin remarked uneasily.

"Maybe you should stay out of it for the moment," Leonov said quietly, eyes fixed on the chessboard.

"Tanya, what the hell is going on with this ship?" Justin sighed. "This is nothing like I expected the service to be."

"Maybe that's why Thorsson sent us out. Give us a harsh taste of things. Hell, this could all be a hoax for all we know."

She leaned back and looked at Justin.

"Tough in there with the Captain, isn't it?"

"I think the guys a bit nuts," Justin whispered.

"No fooling, Sherlock."

Justin laughed softly. But her comment about Thorsson was troubling. Was this yet another elaborate test? An intricately designed simulation? There was no way of knowing if a solar storm was really on. That could be faked easily enough. Zhing could have just shown a few pictures taken from a storm that happened years ago, then had the transmit connection shut down from up front. That alone was test enough two weeks in an anti-radiation suit with the constant threat of getting fried would be a good examination of nerves. The dose meters could be doctored as well. Most of the cadets were already quietly complaining about how hot and sweaty the suits were. Justin shifted uncomfortably. The inner lining was supposed to wick off sweat, but after a day the system was all but swamped. Justin felt sticky all over, and as he shifted he could sense the unpleasant smells wafting up through his collar. Give us a week and some of them will be going nuts in these darn things, he thought.

And then there was the Captain. Did the Fleet really tolerate officers like him? He couldn't understand how any such man could pass his fitness reports. Maybe MacKenzie was in on the game. Act weird, put some pressure on and see how the cadets reacted to his eccentricities.

The thought was both calming and disquieting. In one sense it meant that none of this was truly real. It was just another test. Yet if that was so, then when would he know if things were real? And beyond that, what did it say about the Fleet, throwing plebe cadets into such a crazy game?

The thoughts started to get even more confusing. But then again, he thought, if it was real, then something was seriously wrong on this ship and with a service that allowed it to happen. Looking around the room, the tensions that were building were frightening when compared to the stressed but orderly calm aboard the Academy.

"Kind of an amusing thought, isn't it," Leonov said, her gaze still fixed on the chess pieces. "If this is a test, then our dear friend Mr. Colson isn't long for this service the way he picked that fight with Matt. Matt might be in a bit of hot water too, but at least he can say he was defending himself and not looking for a quarrel. Most people here, at least the ones not blinded by Colson's whispering, will defend Matt if a hearing is called."

"A hearing?"

"Sure. Do you think Thorsson's going to let one cadet call another one a traitor?"

"He said that? In public?"

"Sure did."

Justin looked over at Matt. Madison, with her usual laughing charm was busy defusing the situation. Justin realized that in many ways she was like Matt, easygoing, always ready for a good joke, someone who had that indefinable something that just naturally made most people Hke her. But there were certain types who took offense, or were secretly jealous of how easy it was for someone like Matt or Madison to make friends and be the center of attention.

The door back out to the lounge opened and everyone looked up. Petronovich stood glaring at the group.

"All right, show's over, everyone back to quarters. You all got studying to do."

"Guess the Tsar isn't going to make an appearance," Tanya whispered. "Come on, let's get our good Mr. Everett back to the room."

"Remember, Colson is bunking with us," Justin whispered.

"Damn all."

Justin nodded, stood up and drifted over to where Petronovich was standing by the doorway to the forward section.

"Sir, can I have a word?"

"What is it, Bell?" Petronovich snapped, obviously distracted by all that had been happening, and none to pleased.

"Sir. Mr. Colson was assigned to room with us."

"So?"

"Well, sir, Mr. Everett is in our room too."

"Listen, Bell, in the service your personal likes and dislikes don't count. The Captain drew up the reassignments and there's no way I'm going to go back up there and whine that someone doesn't like his roommate. You're dismissed, now get to your room."

Justin wanted to press the issue. Petronovich was obviously not doing his job to head off trouble before it started. Even though Seay could be a royal pain and an exacting taskmaster, he was always on the lookout for tension within his unit and found ways to ease it. That realization of command style suddenly hit Justin simply through the contrast. Seay seemed to have a sixth sense for when to drop into a room to put on a little heat, just shoot the breeze for a moment, or offer an impromptu game of falcon flying to the platoon to let off a little steam.

Justin turned and followed the last of the cadets down the corridor.

"Mr. Bell?"

Justin looked over at the galley door and saw O'Brian.

O'Brian motioned for him to come in. O'Brian held out a container and there was the faint whiff of hot chocolate.

"Always take care of my kitchen crew. Hot chocolate's just the thing to settle the nerves."

"Thanks," Justin said. He gladly took the container and sipped the brew through the straw.

"How'd it go with the Captain?"

Justin found himself wondering if he was going to be interrogated by the entire crew before he could finally get to his room and get some work done.

"OK, I guess."

"Ah, already the officer in training." O'Brian laughed. "All right, I won't pump you. But if you need someone to spill some beans to, know I've got a tight lip."

Justin smiled.

"Thanks, OBrian. I appreciate it. I better get into my room and try to get some studying in."

As he slid open the door to his room Justin instantly knew that something had gone horribly wrong. Wendell was hunched over in the far corner, features bright red, hands clenched over his face. A trickle of blood was floating out between his fingers; a tiny globule broke free and floated before him. For a second the scene almost looked comical to Justin, the way Wendell's eyes seemed to cross, focusing on the drop of blood as it floated away.

Matt was in the opposite corner, Madison on top of him, trying to hold his arms.

"He hit me," Wendell cried, " damn it, he hit me."

" like hell I did," Matt snarled. "You shoved me through the door and my foot caught you in the mouth as I tumbled so stop whining."

Justin could see a look of panic in Mart's eyes. If Wendell's accusation was true, then Matt's career at the Academy was finished.

" Madison, what happened?" Justin snapped.

"It's like Matt said. We were coming into the room. Matt suddenly tumbled into me and then hit the locker. I turned and saw Wendell going up against the wall. It looked like Matt kicked him by accident after Wendell pushed him."

"Where's Tanya?"

"She went to the head, she didn't see it."

"They're both lying," Wendell cried. "He turned and hit me as I came through the door."

"You're a bloody liar," Matt shouted. "If I'd really hit you, you'd be out like a light."

"Both of you, shut up," Justin snarled, surprised by the anger in his voice. Startled, both looked at him.

"Wendell, you lost your footing, broke free from the floor and banged into Matt. Matt, you accidentally connected with him. Now that's it. Do you understand me?"

The three were silent for a moment. Justin was surprised at himself for attempting to seize control of the situation before it got out of hand.

"I'm not going to ask you two to shake I think things are a bit too hot right now. But this is my room too and I want peace in it or I'll knock both your heads together and then all three of us can get kicked out of the Academy together."

"What's going on here?"

Tanya tried to slip into the room and stopped when she saw the blood.

"An accident," Justin quickly said, "just an accident."

Justin fixed his gaze on Wendell.

"Maybe you better go up to Doctor Zhing and get that bump taken care of."

Wendell opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He pushed off from the wall and went for the door. Grabbing the doorsill, he stopped and looked back.

"You'll see," he snarled, "you'll see."

Releasing his hold on the door, he disappeared.

Tanya shook her head and sighed. "He's dangerous."

"He's a coward," Matt snapped.

"I don't want to hear any talk like that, Matt. It'll just make it worse."

"Well, he tried to sucker punch me from behind, then make it look like an accident."

"Maybe he did lose his footing. Not everyone's as good at bouncing around in zero-gee as you are. Besides, hauling these suits around only makes it more difficult."

"I think it was deliberate," Madison announced. "He's still sore about the argument in the lounge."

"Look, guys. We're on a real ship here, not safe in the Academy. We're expected to act like officers, not a bunch of quarreling kids. Matt, you've got to cool it."

"Yeah, sure," Matt said morosely. "Look, I wasn't asking for an argument. He started it."

"He did," Madison interjected. "Matt and the others were minding their own business."

"Well, for the sake of everyone aboard, but especially you, I hope you end it when he comes back. Maybe the guy will cool down a bit by the time he gets back. Either way, just let him know you want to back off."

"That's a tall order, buddy."

"Matt, it's for your own good," Tanya said.

"OK, I'll try, but I think I'd rather be mining rocks on Ceres."

Justin slapped his friend on the shoulder and offered him the rest of his chocolate.

He went over to the computer terminal, settled down and punched up Moby Dick. The other three settled into their sleeping nets, Tanya and Madison studying on hand-held units while Matt simply stared off into space.

The loudspeaker, turned down for the nighttime watch, chimed ten o'clock, the signal for quiet hours. Justin looked at his watch. He was supposed to get up at four to help O'Brian prepare the morning meal. At least he didn't have to serve the Captain breakfast; that was Wendell's job. Browsing through the book, he got to the first sighting of Moby Dick and the pace picked up. He was surprised to find that he was actually getting into the story. The writing was a bit strange at times, but there was something about Ahab that was weirdly compelling. Finishing another chapter, he looked down at the clock at the corner of his screen. He suddenly realized that Wendell had been gone for over two hours.

Justin looked over his shoulder. All three of his roommates were asleep. Madison was scrunched up, curled almost into a ball, floating inside her sleeping net. There was something about the way she looked that aroused a childlike desire to pull a prank, to disconnect her netting, roll her up and then send her floating down the hall.

Matt, arms splayed wide, slowly tossed back and forth, rolling the netting in tight around himself so that he looked like an ungainly fly caught in a spider web. He mumbled something in his sleep and started to thrash around, then settled back down again.

What a trying friend you are, Justin thought. Half the time lately I'm ready to kill you, but there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. He remembered how, when they had returned to Earth after scrub summer, Matt had stood by his side when he had to confront some of the bullies who had made life a torment in school. It was good to know, at a moment like that, that your best friend was by your side. He thought as well about how they had rescued Tanya and Sue from falling off the cliff on the Moon. He'd have gone over the edge rather than give up.

Strange how behavior in one place seemed innocent but here, aboard this sad ship, Mart's slightest utterances made him wince. Couldn't he sense that even the most idle comment about the separatists might be dangerous?

Tanya, floating in her net, sighed and interrupted Justin's musings. A stray wisp of hair had come out from under the protective cap Tanya was wearing. He watched as the black strands gently undulated back and forth on the currents of air wafting through the room. There was a faint scent of her soap and he smiled watching her. At least now he could look at her without worry that she might notice and take offense.

She stirred in her sleep; her eyes half-opened. She sighed, whispering something in Russian. For a moment he thought she was looking at him; her smile lingered, then her eyes gently closed.

Justin enjoyed the moment of watching her and his friends, glad for the quiet.

The door into the room slid open. Wendell returning, Justin thought. Maybe with the others asleep I can talk some sense into him.

Justin looked up and was so surprised that he completely forgot to stand as Captain Ian MacKenzie came into the room. He was wearing a sidearm, hand resting on the grip of the blaster. Behind him stood Frank Petronovich, similarly armed and looking decidedly uncomfortable with the weapon nervously poised in his hand.

"Matthew Everett!" MacKenzie barked.

"Huh? It ain't four o'clock yet," Matt groaned, "let me sleep."

MacKenzie stepped up to Mart's sleeping net and ripped it open. He reached in, grabbed Matt by the shoulder and tore him out of the net. Matt started to flail around, eyes half-open.

"Get your hands off of me, you creep," Matt yelled, still not fully awake.

"Hey, what's going on?" Madison cried as Matt bumped into her.

Justin was on his feet, trying to reach for Matt to calm him.

"He doesn't wake up easy," Justin shouted, "just give him a second!"

MacKenzie slammed Matt up against the wall.

"Colson, you creep!" Matt cried, and, flailing about, his left arm slammed against the side of MacKenzie's head.

A roar of outrage greeted the blow. Pushing Matt away with such violence that he bounced against the wall, the Captain drew his pistol and aimed it at Matt.

"Sir, don't!"

Justin moved to get between MacKenzie and Matt.

"Stay out of this, Cadet Bell," MacKenzie shouted.

"Sir, it was an accident!" MacKenzie shifted his weapon, pointing it straight at Justin. There was A frightening moment when Justin saw the Captain's finger curled around the trigger as if ready to shoot. Justin held his hands up and backed away.

Matt, now fully awake, looked around in obvious terror.

"Sir, I'm sorry, sir," Matt blurted out, "I thought Colson was hitting me. I was dreaming it, sir."

MacKenzie shifted his weapon back to Matt and looked at him coldly; then tie slightest of smiles creased his face.

"Mr. Everett. I am placing you under arrest. You too, Cadet Smith."

"Sir?" Surprised she looked at MacKenzie, her mouth open.

"Sir, I didn't mean to hit you," Matt cried, and Justin could see that his friend was almost at the point of tears.

"That only adds to it," MacKenzie announced. "Cadets Everett and Smith, you are under arrest for violation of Article Twenty-Three of the Fleet Code.

"As for the other charge of striking an officer Mr. Petronovich, Cadet Bell, and Cadet Colson, you were witnesses to that as well."

For the first time Justin saw Colson standing in the doorway, holding a pistol and grinning. Justin struggled with the urge to leap forward and smash the smirking grin off the cadet's face.

"Cadet Everett, you are also under arrest for striking a superior officer while he is executing his duty. Mr. Petronovich, take them away."