Ghost Writer(74)

“Okay. I'm a bit nervous about tomorrow, but mostly I'm fine.”

“Good,” he said nodding. “I've been discussing the dive with Captain Franchot. I want both Welland and Cross with you. He's agreed. Tinsdale wants his own team on board. We've whittled him down to two Marines and an engineer.”

“That’s seven.”

“Franchot, Mercuros, and two of their divers will also board the station with you, along with Mr.and Mrs. Naire, and Mr. Neville.”

“That’s thirteen people in total.”

“Yes. Mr. Hassan tried to talk us into leaving someone behind. He suggested Mr. Neville.”

I gave a huff of laughter. Poor Tim was getting on everyone’s nerves. Not just mine.

“I bet Captain Tinsdale seconded that motion. One less civilian, and a media type to boot.”

I expected a chuckle, or at least a smile.

Nothing.

“I will guide operations from here. Tinsdale will be monitoring from the Scranton. I still wish you weren't part of it. I'd rather keep you safe.”

“I'd rather be safe, but I won't be until this is taken care of.”

He leaned on the rail and looked out at the lights on his ship. I stood beside him. One of us inched closer. Maybe both of us did. Our shoulders touched. He took my hand.

“When this is all over…” he started and stopped.

“When this is all over I'll be going home.”





Chapter Thirty-Six ~ Into the Depths



The day didn't start well.

Dora kept me up late. She was too engrossed in her work to talk, but I’d got used to complete dark when I went to sleep and she wasn't giving it to me. Not that I asked, mind you. I was too happy she had forgiven me to push my luck.

In fairness, it wasn't all Dora's fault. After talking to Seamus for half an hour, I felt desperately homesick and sorry for myself. I found it hard to settle and impossible to concentrate on reading, an activity that usually relaxed me.

Then there was Margolo. As soon as Gravell left, he appeared. He watched me get ready for bed, but accepted my veto of his following me into the head. Then he stood at the foot of my bed, looking over Dora's shoulder. After a few minutes, Dora went to put a sweater on, otherwise she was oblivious to his presence. I pulled the covers up over my head and tried to will myself to sleep. Eventually it worked.

On the upside, for the first time in ages, I didn’t dream.

Although I had been relieved of kitchen duty for the day, I woke up at my usual time. Dora was fast asleep, but she left me a note.

“Read Kant's story.”

Grumpy and in desperate need of caffeine, I considered my options. I could call Gravell. He wouldn't appreciate it if he was asleep. I could call Alex. He might be sleeping too. I decided to make use of Margolo instead. He wasn't visible, but I figured he hadn't gone far.

Too right. I had a quick shower and found him waiting for me when I reached for a towel.

“Bored?”

He shrugged.

What the hell, I thought. I continued as if he wasn't there. He beat a hasty retreat.

“So you are a gentleman as well an officer. Good for you, Margolo.”

As it turned out, I didn't need Margolo's escort. Someone had posted a guard outside my door. It was one of Franchot's crew, a fellow I hadn't traded more than a couple of words with so far.

“Bonjour, Madame.”

“Bonjour.”

He followed me to the wardroom then left me. I poked my head in to ask Cookie if he wanted me. Mary Lou was taking my place, so I didn't press when the offer was politely rebuffed. I put the juice out on the buffet, helped myself to a glass and made a cup of coffee. Then I pulled out my tablet and called up Kant's story. He had no letters, no diary. Instead, he had been writing a story in a series of thin notebooks. The handwriting was difficult to read and the spelling creative, but mostly I hadn't spent any time on them because they were clearly fiction. Obviously Dora saw something I didn't.

These are the adventures of Kirkland Bane, a newly minted officer of the Earth's Space Patrol.

I skimmed over Kirkland Bane's origins. He was bridge officer on the United Earth Space Ship Intrepid. His best friend was an alien named Pox. His commander was the heroic Captain James. His nemesis the stern first officer, known as Number One. The country-doctor-like Bones McGee was a confidant to all and Chief Engineer Frenchie LeBeau provided comic relief. Golanger was there as the ingénue Cadet Penn. Boreman was the athletic bully, Chief Gabore. It took a while to discover that Naire was an idiosyncratic robot named MO. The writing was a cross between bad fan fiction and a half-decent send-up of his fellow crew members.

It started to get interesting in his second notebook in a chapter he called Feet of Clay.

Bane didn't think he had any innocence to lose until he lost the last scrap at Terra Nueva. That's when he learned that even superstars make mistakes and sometimes the real hero is the guy you never thought much of.

“I'm in command, damn it. You'll do as I say,” Captain James growled menacingly.

“You're putting ze crew in unnecessary danger,” Le Beau argued. “It is crazy! Fou fou! There has to be a better way, Capitaine.”

“Against my ardent desires, I am forced to agree,” said the coldly logical Number One.