*
John was out of breath when hereached sick bay. Dunlop met him at the door; his face grim.
“He’s dying. But he keeps askingfor you.”
John’s look asked what hecouldn’t put into words.
“He’s got massive internalinjuries. I can’t stop the bleeding… That he lasted this long is a miracle.”
John pushed his way past thedoctor and headed straight for Decker. Sick bay was quieter than it had beenbefore. Andrews was still working on someone and Kat was stitching up a gashedarm, while the remaining casualties lay unconscious or covered.
“Ah, Madison, there you are.” Decker’s voice was calm, almost serene. “Promise me you’ll take care of myship.”
“Until you get back on your feetand start bossing us around.” John tried to appear relaxed, but he knew he wasdoing a dreadful job of it.
Decker’s face was still. “Idon’t need all these vultures hanging around to know that I’m dying.” He begancoughing violently; spitules of red blood and black muck covered the hand heraised to his mouth.
John took the other hand in bothof his.
“You know it too, don’t you?”
John couldn’t bring himself toanswer. He also couldn’t lie, and nodded slowly.
“Barrett was right. You do havepotential. You could be one of the best captains around. You just need tolearn more –” Decker began coughing again, the convulsions throwing his bodyupright, until it passed and he sagged back to the bed in a sweat and gaspingfor breath, “more control.”
“Take it easy, Captain. Justbreathe.” John looked anxiously from Decker to the doctor, meeting the blankexpression, and back to Decker again.
Decker sucked in some hugebreaths, his eyes rolling in their sockets before he focused on John again. “Don’t let those admirals crush it out of you. Stand up to them… Like you doto me.”
“That’s completely different –”
“No, it isn’t. I’ve been toughon you, tougher than you deserved.” Decker paused for breath. A cough onlycaused stained saliva to dribble down his chin and out the corner of hismouth. “Bismarck’s yours. Don’t let them take her from you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll do better than that.” Decker was quiet. His eyes remained on John, saliva still dribbled from hismouth.
It took John a few moments torealise the captain was dead. The eyes were losing their shine, a huge clot ofbloodied saliva erupted and ran freely, and the grip on his hand had gone. Hegently laid the arm across the still chest and released it. His legs collapsedand he sank into the chair Dunlop had slid up behind him; the firm hand on hisshoulder guiding him. He took the small glass of clear brown liquid that wasoffered.
His hand shook as he raised it tohis mouth and swallowed it all in one mouthful.
“Hmmm,” Dunlop looked into John’seyes. “Well, at least that’s brought a bit of colour back. You’re in shock,though. Head still pounding?”
John nodded, the voice soundingso far away, and took the refill. He drank slower this time, although not thatmuch noticeably.
“I’ll have my reports ready in afew hours,” Dunlop continued, placing the cap on the bottle.
“Reports?” John questioned,looking up into the doctor’s face as though seeing him there for the firsttime.
“You do realise that you have tofile an accident report with Command and notify next of kin. We lost five menaltogether.”
John paused for a moment, allowingthe words to sink in. His gaze caught the empty glass in his hand. “Notwithout another one of these I don’t.” He held up the glass.
Dunlop was reluctant, but decidedto fill it. “Another one of these and you won’t make it back to the bridge.”
“At the moment, that’s the leastof my worries.”
*
Somehow, John made it back to thebridge on his own. His head no longer ached. The fact that he could feelnothing didn’t register with him.
He refused all communication fromthe planet, ordering Hartford to switch the channel off. He did keep a lineopen for the backlash he knew would come from Command.
He knew he should get in firstand file his own report. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He closedhis eyes briefly to clear his head and allow himself to think properly. Hiseyes flew open as he felt his head drop; suddenly realising he had nearlyfallen asleep. He quickly looked around. No one had noticed.
He moved uneasily in his seat,trying to get more comfortable. His muscles were tense and stiff. A quickglance at his watch told him the shift was almost over. The crew sensed it andbecame edgy. But that only presented another problem – he was running short ofsenior officers.
The ship only had a minimum. With the captain and chief engineer both dead that only left Giacomo, Tan, thedoctor and himself. Humphries had handled the bridge before, but he was stilla junior who lacked age and experience. McReidy and Gillespie also qualified,although, officially, they were not part of Bismarck’s crew.
Giacomo also knew the currentcrew status. He slowly spun his chair around to face John. “Sir?” he askedhesitantly.
John lifted his eyes from theaccident report.
“Do you want me to get Humphriesback?”
“No, leave him where he is.” John’s voice was tired.
“I could stay longer… if youlike.”
“You’ve already put in a doubleshift, if I’m not mistaken.” He smiled, grateful of the offer. “Get Gillespieup here. He won’t take any crap from the miners.”
“Yes, sir.”
John raised his voice a little ashe spoke to the entire bridge. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the captain’soffice. Gillespie’s got the bridge, but he is to do nothing without consultingme first. Please inform the next shift before signing off.”
He dragged himself from the chairand headed to the office. He threw the report onto the desk in front of him,his palms raised to his forehead, his fingers sliding through his hair. Hecouldn’t feel the pain in his head but the pounding seemed to vibrate into hishands and down his arms. He slid his hands over the top of his head and downhis neck before dropping them to his sides.
He stared at the report on thedesk as though it could give him the answers that he needed. It refused. Hestepped around behind the desk and sat down. The soft, black leather armchairhad been well broken in. Being of the same approximate height
