The Service of the Sword

to Commander Atkins. I understand that she's finished grading that astrogation problem she assigned you yesterday. Ms. Hearns, I'd like you to accompany me to my office. Chief Vassari will join us there. Commander Blumenthal has asked me to do a critical analysis of the technique the two of you used, and your input will undoubtedly be useful.'

'Of course, Sir,' Abigail replied.

'Good.' Abbott smiled briefly, then glanced at Grigovakis and waved one hand towards the front of the briefing room, where Commander Blumenthal and Captain Oversteegen were still engaged in conversation. 'While we're doing that, Mr. Grigovakis, I believe the Captain would like to speak to you for a moment.'

'Uh, of course, Sir,' Grigovakis said after the briefest of hesitations.

'When you're finished here, please come by my office,' Abbott told him. 'I imagine Ms. Hearns, Chief Vassari, and I will still be there, and I'd be interested to hear your input, as well.'

'Yes, Sir,' Grigovakis said expressionlessly.

'Good.' Abbott smiled at him again, then nodded Abigail through the hatch.

Captain Oversteegen's conversation with the tactical officer lasted another fifteen minutes. Then Commander Blumenthal left, and Arpad Grigovakis found himself alone in the briefing room with Gauntlet's CO.

Oversteegen appeared to be in no great hurry. He sat at the briefing room table, paging through several screens of notes on his private memo pad for five or six more minutes before he switched off the display and looked up.

'Ah, Mr. Grigovakis!' he said. 'Forgive me, I'd forgotten I asked you t' stay.' He smiled and gestured for Grigovakis to have a seat at the table.

The midshipman sank into the indicated chair with a wary expression. It was the first time, outside one of the formal dinners in the captain's dining cabin, that Oversteegen had invited him to sit in his presence.

'You wanted to speak to me, Sir?' he said after a moment.

'Yes, I did, actually,' Oversteegen agreed and tipped back in his own chair. He gazed at Grigovakis long enough for the midshipman to fidget uneasily, then cocked his head to one side and arched an eyebrow.

'It's come t' my attention, Mr. Grigovakis, that you don't appear t' have exactly what one might call a sense of rapport with Ms. Hearns,' he said. 'Would you care t' comment on just why that is?'

'I—' Grigovakis paused and cleared his throat, then gave the captain a small, troubled smiled. 'I really don't know why, Sir,' he said earnestly. 'It's certainly not anything she's ever done to me. We just don't click somehow. Of course, she's the only Grayson I really know well enough to consider myself at all familiar with. That may be part of it, though I know it shouldn't be. To be honest, I'm a bit embarrassed. I shouldn't needle her the way I do, and I know it. But sometimes it just gets away from me.'

'I see.' Oversteegen frowned thoughtfully. 'I notice that you referred t' the fact that Ms. Hearns is a Grayson. Does that mean you're prejudiced against Graysons, Mr. Grigovakis?'

'Oh, no, Sir! It's just that sometimes I find them a bit . . . overly focused. I started to say 'parochial,' but that isn't really the right word. They just seem . . . different, somehow. Like they're marching to a different drum, I suppose.'

'I suppose that's fair enough,' Oversteegen mused. 'Grayson is quite different from the Star Kingdom, after all. I would submit t' you, however, Mr. Grigovakis, that it behooves you t' overcome whatever personal . . . discomfort you may feel around Graysons in general, and particularly around Ms. Hearns.'

'Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.' Grigovakis said earnestly, and Oversteegen regarded him silently for a moment or two. Then he smiled, and it was not an extraordinarily pleasant expression.

'Be sure that you do, Mr. Grigovakis,' he said conversationally. 'I realize some members of the Service— includin' some of its more senior ones—seem t' feel that somehow Graysons aren't quite up t' Manticoran standards. I suggest you disabuse yourself of that notion, if you should happen t' share it. Not only are Graysons up t' our standards, but in many ways, particularly now, we aren't up t' theirs.'

Grigovakis paled slightly. He opened his mouth, but Oversteegen wasn't finished yet.

'As a midshipman, you may have failed t' note that the Queen's Navy is currently in the process of buildin' down, Mr. Grigovakis. In my considered opinion, that is . . . not a wise policy. But however wise or unwise it may be, the Grayson Navy, on the other hand, is doin' exactly the opposite. And if you make the mistake of assumin' that simply because Grayson is for all intents and purposes a theocracy it must therefore be backward, ignorant, and inferior, you will be in for an extremely sad and rude awakenin'.

'In addition t' that, you are a member of my ship's company, and it is not my practice t' tolerate harassment of any member of my crew by another. Ms. Hearns has not complained t' me, or t' Commander Abbott. That does not mean we are unaware of the situation, however. Nor does it mean I am unaware that you have a tendency t' speak t' your enlisted personnel with a . . . vigor not yet justified by the level of your experience. I expect both of these practices on your part t' cease. Is that understood?'

'Yes, Sir!' Grigovakis said quickly, fighting a temptation to wipe sweat from his forehead.

'It had better be, Mr. Grigovakis,' Oversteegen told him in that same, conversational tone. 'And while I'm on the subject, perhaps it wouldn't hurt t' point out another reality t' you. I am familiar with your family. In fact, your Uncle Connall and I served together some years ago, and I consider him a friend. I am aware that your family is quite wealthy, even by Manticoran standards, and can trace its earliest Manticoran ancestors back t' shortly after the Plague Years.

'As such, you rightly enjoy a certain standin' and prominence among the better families of the Star Kingdom. However, I think it would be wise of you t' reflect upon the fact that Ms. Hearns can trace her ancestry in unbroken succession through almost a thousand T-years of history t' the first Steadholder Owens. And that despite the fact that she bears no noble title—beyond, of course, that of 'Miss Owens,' which I've observed she never uses—her birth takes precedence over that of anyone below ducal rank in the Star Kingdom.'

Grigovakis swallowed hard, and Oversteegen gave him another wintry smile.

'I'll leave you with one last thought about Ms. Hearns, Mr. Grigovakis,' he said. 'Your family, as I said, is noted for its wealth. That wealth, however, pales t' insignificance beside the Owens family fortune. We are accustomed t' thinkin' of Grayson as a poor planet, and t' some extent, that's no doubt justified, although I believe you might be surprised if you considered the actual figures and how they've changed over the past ten or fifteen T- years. Steadholder Owens, however, is one of only eighty steadholders . . . and Owens Steading was only the eleventh founded. It's been in existence for nine T-centuries, almost twice as long as the entire Star Kingdom. Steadholder Owens is wealthy, powerful, and unaccustomed t' acceptin' the discourteous treatment of members of his family. Especially its female members. I would be most surprised if Ms. Hearns would ever appeal t' him for assistance in such a minor matter, and I strongly suspect that she would be most upset if she ever discovered that her father had chosen t' take a hand in her affairs. Neither of which, I imagine, would dissuade him in the least. Aristocrats, you know, look after their own.'

Grigovakis seemed to wilt in his seat, and Oversteegen allowed his own chair to come fully upright once more.

'I commend t' your consideration the example of the treecat, Mr. Grigovakis,' he said. 'At first glance, treecats are simply fuzzy, adorable woodland creatures. But they, too, look after their own, and no hexapuma in his right mind ventures into their range. I trust the applicable implications will not be lost upon you.'

He held the midshipman's eye a moment longer, then nodded towards the open hatch.

'Dismissed, Mr. Grigovakis,' he said pleasantly.

The surge of vertigo-crossed nausea was something Abigail hadn't yet become accustomed to. Privately, she doubted that she ever would, but she had no intention of displaying her unsettling stab of discomfort before more experienced eyes, and especially not just now, with so many of those experienced eyes watching her. And not when Shobhana and Karl were about to have so much more of an . . . interesting time than she was.

Crossing the alpha wall from hyper-space back to normal-space for the first time was the equivalent of the old wet-navy tradition of 'crossing the line' back on Old Earth. Just as crossing Old Earth's equator had turned the neophyte sailor into a true 'shellback' mariner, it was the first alpha translation back into normal-space which