upwards in him.
All right, so he had lost his wave. He was no longer cresting and
racing. He was down and smothered in white water. But he could feel
his head breaking the surface, and he was still on the break-line. He
knew there was another big wave racing down on him. It was just
beginning to peak and he knew he still had the strength to catch her, to
get high and race again.
I did it once - I'll damned well do it again/he said aloud, and went
down for breakfast.
He stepped into the saloon, and for a long moment nobody realized he was
there. There was an excited buzz of comment and speculation that
absorbed them all.
The Chief Engineer had an old copy of Lloyd's List folded at the front
page and held above a plate of eggs as he read aloud. Nicholas wondered
where he had found the ancient copy.
His spectacles had slid right to the end of his nose, so he had to tilt
his head far backwards to see through them, and his Australian accent
twanged like a guitar.
In a joint statement issued by the new Chairman and incoming members of
the Board, a tribute was paid to the fifteen years of loyal service that
Mr. Nicholas Berg had given to Christy Marine. The five officers
listened avidly, ignoring their breakfasts, until David Allen glanced up
at the figure in the doorway.
captain, Sir, he shouted, and leapt to his feet, while with the other
hand, he snatched the newspaper out of Vinny Baker's hands and bundled
it under the table.
Sir, may I present the officers of Warlock. Shuffling, embarrassed, the
younger officers shook hands hurriedly and then applied themselves
silently to their congealing breakfasts with a total dedication that
precluded any conversation, while Nick Berg took the Master's seat at
the head of the long table in the heavy silence and David Allen sat down
again on the crumpled sheets of newsprint.
The steward offered the menu to the new Captain, and returned almost
immediately with a dish of stewed fruit.
I ordered a boiled egg/ said Nick mildly, and an apparition in snowy
white appeared from the galley, with the chef's cap at a jaunty angle.
'The sailor's curse is constipation, Skipper. I look after MY officers
- that fruit is delicious and good for you. I'm doing you your eggs
now, dear, but eat your fruit first. And the diamond twinkled again as
he vanished.
Nick stared after him in the appalled silence.
Fantastic cook/ blurted David Allen, his fair skin flushed pinkly and
the Lloyd's List rustled under his backside. Could get a job on any
passenger liner, could Angel. If he ever left the Warlock, half the
crew would go with him/ growled the Chief Engineer darkly, and hauled at
his pants with elbows below the level of the table. And I'd be one of
them., Nick Berg turned his head politely to follow the conversation.
He's almost a doctor, David Allen went on, addressing the Chief
Engineer.
