Tuesday, October 5, 2399, UD
Paralyzed by an uneasy mix of confusion, doubt, and fear, Michael started as Fellsworth’s voice shattered the long silence.
“So, to sum up: We’re leaving. Those of you who thought we would simply sit here waiting for the Hammer to decide what they would do with us, think again. We’re leaving, and that’s a direct order. By the end of next month, we will be out of here. It will not be easy, but I don’t think I have to remind you we have a duty to escape, and it is a duty that I as senior officer intend to see honored. Now, before I distribute the draft work plan, are there any questions?”
Michael watched Fellsworth closely as she scanned the hut. It was packed tight; apart from the sentries posted to keep an eye on the guards, every one of the survivors from the
Chief Ichiro got to her feet. “Sir?”
“Yes, Chief?”
“Not a question, sir. Just to say that I don’t think I’ve heard anything quite so good in a long time. I can’t speak for anyone else here, but the end of November can’t come soon enough,” Ichiro declared emphatically.
The instant she sat down, the hut erupted into a storm of cheering, stamping, and clapping. The sudden wave of optimism and commitment from every spacer present was almost overwhelming.
No, hang on, Michael thought, not every spacer. Hashemian, up at the front of the hut alongside Fellsworth, stayed seated, his face wooden. Damn, Michael thought, what is he up to? He looked around. Hashemian was not the only one. Xing and a small group off to one side sat unmoved and unmoving. This is not good, Michael said to himself. Hashemian was Fellsworth’s second in command; his duty to support his senior officer was as clear as his implied insubordination was unmistakable. Michael wondered if Fellsworth had even noticed.
Eventually the hut settled down. Fellsworth, face flushed with emotion, cleared her throat.
“Thanks for those kind words, Chief. The check is in the mail,” she said drily.
“No problem, sir,” Ichiro shot back as the hut erupted again, this time in laughter.
“Anyway, let’s move on. I’ll get a draft work plan to all of you today. Actually, it’s more a list of who’s in what team, an outline of what each team’s objectives are plus the arrangements for progress reviews, and so on. When you get it, please go through it carefully. Any problems, talk to your team leader in the first instance. Team leaders can talk to me at any time. Right, that’s it. Officers and senior spacers, stand fast; all the rest back to work.”
Fellsworth waited patiently as the hut cleared. When the door closed behind the last spacer, she waved everyone into a circle.
“Right, folks. First, let me welcome Michael to the group. Sorry you weren’t kept in the loop, but I wanted you to concentrate on getting better.”
“No problem, sir. I’m fine now. Point me in the right direction and tell me what needs doing.”
“Good,” Fellsworth said briskly. “Now-”
“One second, Karla.” Hashemian’s hand went up to stop her.
Fellsworth frowned at the interruption, or was it Hashemian’s failure to call her “sir” as tradition and her position dictated he should? Michael could not work out which it was as she waved at Hashemian to continue.
“I am going to say it again,” Hashemian continued. “This escape plan of yours is madness, and I cannot go along with it. I cannot allow you to risk our lives in some harebrained scheme that will never work. More to the point,” he added menacingly, “I know I am not the only one here who thinks so.”
Oh, shit, Michael thought. He was no lower-deck lawyer, but this smelled horribly like mutiny.
Fellsworth looked at Hashemian levelly for a long time before leaning forward to look the man full in the face.
“I know what you think, Max. I know because we have discussed your objections at great length. I have taken those objections into account, but my decision still stands. You know that, too. So when the time comes to leave I-2355, we all leave. That is an order, a direct order from me as your lawful superior. Now,” she said quietly, “which part of my direct order do you not understand?”
“Karla, please”-Fellsworth’s lips tightened at the deliberate insult, but she said nothing-“do me a favor. We’re caught up in some crazy Hammer scheme, but we are not at war. There’s no reason to risk my life or anyone else’s. We need to be patient, and we’ll get home. It may take some time, but I’m confident that it will happen. So let’s forget the direct orders, shall we?”
“Fine,” Fellsworth said icily. “I’ll take that as a no. Who else agrees with Lieutenant Commander Hashemian?”
Lieutenant Xing broke the long silence. “I do, sir. I’m with Lieutenant Commander Hashemian. I’m not going to be part of this scheme. It’s madness, so count me out. I won’t be part of it.”
Hashemian nodded. Michael thought his air of self-righteous satisfaction was probably a bit premature.
“Noted, Lieutenant Xing. I think you’ve made yourself perfectly clear. Anyone else?”
Two hands went up: an ordnance warrant officer and a comm chief; Michael didn’t know either of them, but he was surprised. In his experience, admittedly limited, noncommissioned officers had a finely developed sense of self-preservation.
Fellsworth nodded. “So, Max, there are four of you. Have you discussed this among yourselves? I ask only because it helps me know that you’ve really thought this through,” she inquired in a tone of such utter sincerity that Michael was fooled, but only for a second. He watched in amazement as Hashemian walked straight into the trap Fellsworth had set, dragging his fellow mutineers with him.
“Yes, of course, Karla,” Hashemian said impatiently. “I would not want to go off half-cocked on something as important as this.”
You fool, Michael thought, you bloody fool. The game’s over. That’s mutiny, and you stand convicted out of your own mouth.
Fellsworth nodded casually. She looked unconcerned. Hashemian sat back in his chair. He looked utterly confident, self-evidently sure that Fellsworth was about to capitulate.
“Fine. Michael!”
“Sir?” Michael replied, surprised. What did he have to do with any of this?
“Go to the door. Outside you will find Corporal Yazdi. Tell her to come in, please.”
Michael could tell from Fellsworth’s tone of voice that this was not the time to ask what the hell was going on, and so he did as he was told. To his surprise, Yazdi, together with Murphy and ten or more spacers-all leading spacers, he noted in passing-were drawn up in readiness. He was shocked to see every one of them holding a small homemade club.
“Inside, Corporal Yazdi,” he said curtly. “Fellsworth wants you.”
“Yes, sir!”
Yazdi did not wait for Michael to step back. Waving her team to follow, she pushed past him into the hut, with Michael coming on behind. When they entered, Yazdi’s team spread out in a half circle.
“Corporal Yazdi!” Fellsworth’s tone was unmistakably the tone of the officer in command.
Yazdi snapped to attention. “Sir!”
“Arrest Lieutenant Commander Hashemian, Lieutenant Xing, Warrant Officer Kobach, and Chief Petty Officer Mondavi.”
“Sir!”
Yazdi’s team wasted no time; they were so quick, Fellsworth must have briefed them on what to expect, Michael thought. Yazdi had known what was coming. In seconds, the four mutineers, their faces white with shock and disbelief, had been dragged from their seats and stood up, their hands tied efficiently behind their backs.
“Prisoners secure, sir.”
“Thank you, Corporal Yazdi. Right, pay attention,” she said, looking at the four men ranged in front of her. The rest of her officers and senior spacers, all clearly taken by surprise, watched in openmouthed amazement.
