Jerry Pournelle - King David's Spaceship

“Let’s see how to put it,” Goldstein said. She looked thoughtful. “The supporting documents ought to be signed by Captain Greenaugh as well as the lieutenant. Captain, will you accept this: ‘In the absence of challenge by any interested party, we conclude that the craft qualifies as a spacecraft of marginal performance characteristics, and may be accepted as evidence of limited space-faring capability existing on Prince Samual’s World at the time of application for membership.’?”

Greenaugh thought for a moment. “Yes. I can sign that. Jefferson?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Then are we agreed?” Ackoff asked. “Good. Madam Goldstein, if you would be so kind-”

There was a slight whirring, and a paper emerged from a slot in the end table next to Ackoff. He took it and scanned it quickly, then passed it to Greenaugh.

Greenaugh signed and handed it to Jeff.

“If you please, Lieutenant,” Ackoff said. “Thank you.” He took the document and laid it carefully on top of King David’s parchment. “That’s settled, then.”

“There’s another matter,” Greenaugh said.

“And that is?”

“We’ve been made fools of. Someone’s going to pay for that.”

“I shouldn’t be too hasty,” Ackoff said.

“Allow me, Sir Alexei,” Dr. Boyd said. “Captain, while your desire is understandable, have you thought through the consequences? What end would be served?”

“You can’t let colonials make fools of the Navy and get away with it,” Greenaugh said.

“It is hardly a situation likely to arise again,” Boyd said. “As to being made a fool, I’d rather be thought a generous fool than a mean and petty one.”

Greenaugh stood and bowed coldly to Ackoff. “I see there’s no point in my being here,” he said. “With your permission, I’ll leave.” He turned and stalked out of the room.

“That could be a problem,” Goldstein said. “He wants someone’s blood.”

“I’ll speak to him later,” Ackoff said. “After all, we are the ones who must live with the consequences of what he does.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Jefferson. “Lieutenant, I don’t think it would be wise to repeat anything you’ve heard in this room today.”

“No, sir.”

“Also, you will probably want to put your affairs in order. I doubt that your ship will be in this system much longer. Given the changed state of affairs here, we will need a somewhat different sort of naval assistance.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“Yes, sir,” Jefferson said. “If you’ll excuse me—” As Jeff left the office, Boyd was saying, “It does seem possible to comply with the captain’s wishes and at the same time solve another pressing problem—” Jeff let himself out of the office. By the time he reached the stairway, he was whistling to himself.

Regular Navy not needed, he thought. Colonists not needed. Well, that’s one decision made for me, not that I really needed help making it. They won’t be accepting transfers from the Navy to the civil service. Particularly not mine!

Now how am I going to tell Elaine?

Tell her any damned way you like, he told himself. You’re going to space again!

He took the steps three at a time.

An octopus of wires stretched upward to a bewildering array of dials and buttons. At one end the octopus terminated in electrodes attached to Mary’s abdomen; its other end vanished into a bulkhead of Tombaugh’s sick bay. She’d already learned to call it a bulkhead rather than a wall.

The Navy physician removed the last of the electrodes from her belly. “You can put your clothes on now,” he said. He seemed quite impersonal, although he’d been friendly enough in the wardroom two hours before. He held a shadowy photograph to the light. She’d heard him call it an X-ray, and he’d told her it showed a picture of her insides. She would have liked to study it, but she didn’t quite know how to ask.

“How am I doing?” Mary asked.

“You’ll be all right,” Lieutenant Commander Terry said. He looked at the X-ray again. “That treatment should do it. If it doesn’t, we’ll need to do some slicing.” He saw her look of dismay. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Routine, actually. You’re a standard chromotype. Regeneration stimulators work fine on you. Problem is, sometimes it’s easier to remove something and get it to grow back than to fix the original parts. Either way, you’ll be fine.”

“But what was wrong?”

“Vibration. Enough to tear some intestinal mesenteries. They’ll grow back, but I’m worried about adhesions.”

“That sounds serious.”

“Not really. You’ll have to take it easy for a bit, that’s all. Nothing strenuous.”

“I—” She was embarrassed, but it had to be said. “I was hoping to be married. Quite soon.”

“Hmm. Honeymoon wouldn’t be very interesting for a while,” he said. “But we’ll get all that fixed, too. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?” The honeymoon could wait. It wasn’t as if they were impatient virgins. But — “Are you really sure?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Commander Terry’s smile was reassuring. “I may not have had a lot of experience treating women’s problems, but yours is quite simple. Nothing wrong with the reproductive system. Just intestinal tissue. I’ll have you right in a few weeks.”

“I didn’t think you could treat colonials,” Mary said.

“We can’t, as a usual rule, but of course the rules don’t apply to prisoners.”

“Prisoner? But-”

“Didn’t you know? Sorry,” he said. “I thought they’d told you. Captain Greenaugh sent up an arrest order three hours ago. You’ve been charged with interfering with the orderly development of Makassar.”

The Imperial Marine officer was polite, but very insistent. “Colonel MacKinnie, I have my orders. You are to accompany me to Empire House immediately.” He looked around Dougal’s office, then at Dougal. “I have a squad of Marines outside, and I am in communication with Marine Barracks.”

“Calmly, calmly,” Dougal said. “We have offered no resistance. I merely asked what Colonel MacKinnie is charge with. I assume he is under arrest?”

“I’d rather not put it that way,” the officer said. “But I could.”

“But what am I charged with?” MacKinnie demanded.

The officer shrugged.

“What should I do?” MacKinnie asked.

Dougal looked grave. “I would prefer that you go with him. Until this matter is settled, we should be prepared to go to any lengths to show how well we cooperate with the Imperial authorities.”

MacKinnie shrugged. “All right.”

“We will protest to the High Commissioner at once,” Dougal said.

“While you’re doing that, get them to set Freelady Graham free,” MacKinnie said, “We’ve got a wedding scheduled.”

“We will do our best,” Dougal said. “I’ll talk to the King immediately.”

Nathan sat in an ornate chair in the study at Government House. A cheerful fire burned on the hearth, but he hardly noticed it.

Where is Mary? Have they brought her here, or is she still up in that ship? Damn them, damn them to hell. They’ll have to let her go. They can’t hold her, she’s the most famous person on Samual, better known than King David.

That thought was disturbing. Dougal would see that, too. What would Dougal do about it? He can’t have one of David’s subjects more popular than the king, not if he plans to control the development of this planet.

Wonder if he’ll get that control? He’s certain the Empire is going to approve his application for Class II status. He seems to know a lot about Ackoff. Or says he does, and I’ve no evidence one way or another.