Surely Fletcher suspected Martinez of being her lover, and the inspection was part of an elaborate revenge plot.
The captain found flaws-a suspicious creak in an acceleration cage that indicated a worn part, a scratch on the transparent cover of a gauge, an emergency radiation suit carelessly stowed-and then the party went on to look at the engine department's storage lockers, at the heavily shielded antihydrogen compartments, and-after donning ear protection-at the massive reactor that powered the ship, and the huge turbopumps that operated the thermal exchange system.
The experience of the chamber was odd. Martinez knew that the noise was hellish, but his earphones automatically pulsed out sound waves that canceled that of the pumps, and all he heard in his ears was a distant white noise. But his body reacted to the sound: he could feel the vibration in his bones and in his soft organs, and when he touched a wall or pipe.
Fletcher stroked the pumps with white-gloved fingers, found them clean, and then returned to the engine control room so that his questions might be heard. Thuc followed the captain in docile silence, his muscular body looming over Fletcher's shoulder except when he darted forward to open a hatch or a locker door.
'You've changed the filters on the main pump recently?'
'Just after Protipanu, my lord,' Thuc said. 'We aren't due for another change for two months.'
'Very good. And the pump itself?'
'We'll swap it out in another…' Thuc considered his answers, his eyes focused somewhere above his left shoulder '…thirty-eight days, my lord.'
'Very well.' The captain tugged his white gloves over his wrists and smoothed the fine kidskin over his fingers. 'I'll just inspect your crew, then.'
He marched down the line of engine crew, stopping to make an occasional comment about dress or deportment. At the end of the line he encountered Thuc again, and nodded.
'Very good, Thuc,' he said. 'Excellent marks, as always.'
'Thank you, lord captain.' An hint of a smile touched his lips.
When Fletcher moved it was so fast that Martinez failed to see it properly and could only reconstruct the action later, out of fragments of memory. The sickle-shaped blade sang from the sheath, whistled through the air, and buried itself in Thuc's throat. A crescent of arterial blood splattered the mural behind Thuc's head.
Thuc was too large a man to fall all at once. First his shoulders dropped, and then his knees gave way. His barrel chest sank, then his stomach sagged, and then-as Fletcher's knife cleared his throat-Thuc's head lolled down. It was only then that Thuc fell like a tower of wooden blocks kicked by a careless child.
Martinez' heart began to beat again, a roaring in his ears. He looked at Fletcher in shock.
Fletcher looked expressionlessly at the body with his ice-blue eyes, and took a step away from the spreading pool of red. He flicked scarlet from his blade with a movement of his wrist.
The smell of blood hit Martinez' senses, and he bit down hard on the stomach that was trying to quease its way past his throat.
'Marsden,' Fletcher said, 'call the doctor to examine the body, and have him bring a stretcher party to carry it away. Cho,' to a staring petty officer, 'you are now in charge of the engineering department. Once the doctor is done, call the off-duty watch to help you police this… untidiness. In the meantime, I'd appreciate a cleaning cloth.'
Cho nearly ran to one of the storage lockers, returned with a cloth, and handed it with quaking fingers to the captain. Fletcher used it to clean the knife blade and mop some of the blood on his tunic, then threw the cloth to the deck.
A pale-faced young recruit swayed, then toppled to the floor in a dead faint. Fletcher ignored him, and turned again to Cho.
'Cho,' he said, 'I trust you will maintain Engineer Thuc's high standards.' He nodded to the control room crew, then turned and made his way out.
Martinez followed, his nerves leaping. He wanted to flee Fletcher's company, to barricade himself in his quarters with a pistol and several bottles of brandy, the first for protection and the second for comfort.
He looked left and right at Marsdan and Mersenne, and saw that their expressions were mirrors of his own thoughts.
'Captain Martinez,' Fletcher said. The words made Martinez start.
'Yes, lord captain?' He was moderately surprised that he managed three whole words without stumbling, screaming, or falling into dumb silence.
Fletcher reached the companionway that led to the deck above, and he turned to Martinez.
'Do you know why I invited you along this morning?'
'No, my lord.'
Martinez had managed another three words. He was making real progress. Soon he might be walking on his own and tying his own shoelaces.
He found himself very aware of the captain's right hand, the hand that would reach across his body to draw the knife. He found his own hands ready to lunch forward and seize Fletcher's forearm if the hand approached the hilt.
He hoped that Fletcher was not aware that Martinez was so focused of Fletcher's right hand. He tried not to stare at it.
'I asked you along so that you could report to Squadron Commander Chen,' Fletcher said, 'and tell her exactly what just occurred.'
'Yes, lord captain.'
'I don't want her hearing a rumor, or getting a distorted version.'
Distorted version. As if there was a version that would make this at all comprehensible.
Martinez searched his numbed mind and found a question, but the question required more than three words and he took a second or two to organize his thoughts.
'My lord,' he asked, 'do you wish me to give Lady Michi the reason for your, your action?'
The captain straightened slightly. A superior smile touched his lips.
'Only that it was my privilege,' he said.
A chill shimmered up Martinez' spine.
'Very good, lord captain,' he said.
Fletcher turned and led up the companionway. At the top he met the ship's doctor, Lord Yuntai Xi, who was followed by his assistant carrying his bag.
'The engine control room, lord doctor,' Fletcher said. 'A fatality.'
The doctor gave him a curious look, and nodded.
'Thank you, lord captain. Can you tell me-?'
'Best you see for yourself, lord doctor. I won't detain you.'
Xi stroked his little white beard, then nodded and began his descent of the companion. Fletcher led the party up three decks, to the deck he shared with the squadron commander, then turned to face the two lieutenants. 'Thank you, my lords,' he said. 'I won't be needing you any farther.' He turned to his secretary. 'Marsden, I'll need you to enter the death in the log.'
Martinez walked with Marsenne to the squadcom's door. He felt a tingling in his back, as if he were expecting the captain to draw his knife and lunge at him. He didn't quite dare to look at the other lieutenant, and he had a feeling that Marsenne wasn't looking at him, either.
He came to the squadcom's door, and without saying anything to Lieutenant Mersenne he stopped at the door and knocked.
Lady Michi's orderly, Vandervalk, opened the door, and Martinez asked to see the squadcom. Vandervalk said she'd check and left him waiting, then returned a few minutes later to say that the lady squadcom would meet Martinez in her office.
Lady Michi came into her office a few minutes later, carrying her morning tea in a delicate gold-rimmed cup on which glowed the Chen family crest.
Martinez braced. The sensation of air on his exposed throat gave him a sudden shiver.
'Have a seat,' Michi said. Her tone was abstracted, her gaze focused on papers that waited on her desk. She sat in her straight-backed chair.