The Road to the Rim - A. Bertram Chandler [47]
Jane Pentecost emerged from the hatch in the Control Room deck. Addressing Craven she said formally, "Admiral Williams, sir." She moved to one side to make way for the flag officer.
"Jerry, you bloody pirate!" boomed Williams, a squat, rugged man the left breast of whose shirt was ablaze with ribbons. He advanced with outstretched hand.
"Glad to have you aboard, Bill. This is Liberty Hall—you can spit on the mat and call the cat a bastard!"
"Not again!" groaned Grimes.
"And who is this young man?" asked the Admiral.
"I owe you—or your Service—an apology, Bill. This is Ensign Grimes, who was a passenger aboard Delta Orionis. I'm afraid that I . . . er . . . press-ganged him into my service. But he has been most . . . cooperative? Uncooperative? Which way do you want it?
"As we are at war with Waldegren—I'd say cooperative with reservations. Was it he, by the way, who used the ALGE? Just as well for you all that he did."
"At war with Waldegren?" demanded Jane Pentecost. "So you people have pulled your fingers out at last."
The Admiral raised his eyebrows.
"One of my Rim Worlders," explained Craven. "But I shall be a Rim Worlder myself shortly."
"You're wise, Jerry. I've got the buzz that the Commission is taking a very dim view of your piracy or privateering or whatever it was, and my own lords and masters are far from pleased with you. You'd better get the hell out before the lawyers have decided just what crimes you are guilty of."
"As bad as that?"
"As bad as that."
"And young Grimes, here?"
"We'll take him back. Six months' strict discipline aboard my flagship will undo all the damage that you and your ideas have done to him. And now, Jerry, I'd like your full report."
"In my cabin, Bill. Talking is thirsty work."
"Then lead on. It's your ship."
"And it's your watch, Mr. Grimes. She'll come to no harm on this trajectory while we get things sorted out."
GRIMES SAT WITH JANE PENTECOST in the Control Room. Through the ports, had he so desired, he could have watched the rescue teams extricating the survivors from the wreckage of Adler; he could have stared out at the looming bulk of Dartura on the beam. But he did not do so, and neither did he look at his instruments.
He looked at Jane. There was so much about her that he wanted to remember—and, after all, so very little that he was determined to forget.
The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Grimes, will you pack whatever gear you have and prepare to transfer with Admiral Williams to the flagship? Hand the watch over to Miss Pentecost."
"But you'll be shorthanded, sir."
"The Admiral is lending me a couple of officers for the rest of the voyage."
"Very good, sir."
Grimes made no move. He looked at Jane—a somehow older, a tireder, a more human Jane than the girl he had first met. He said, "I'd have liked to have come out to the Rim with you . . . ."
She said, "It's impossible, John."
"I know. But . . ."
"You'd better get packed."
He unbuckled his seat belt, went to where she was sitting. He kissed her. She responded, but it was only the merest flicker of a response.
He said, "Goodbye."
She said, "Not goodbye. We'll see you out on the Rim, sometime."
With a bitterness that he was always to regret he replied, "Not very likely."
THE END
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The Road to the Rim
Table of Contents
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