the
Klimov. "Nothing was signed, nothing at all!"
"Perhaps not," said Daniel, his tone courteous to a fault. "But RCN officers are punctilious about their honor . . . and so are the Learys of Bantry. I hope you'll keep that in mind, because I'm looking forward to congenial relations with you during our voyage."
He cleared his throat and smiled broadly. "I believe we're ready for you to conduct your business with the Navy Office. While you're doing that, I'll address what I hope will be our crew," he said. "Yes?"
"Yes, yes of course," said the Count with a dismissive gesture.
"Yes," said Klimovna. "Very congenial."
* * *
Adele sat on a forty-gallon drum on the quay beside the Princess Cecile. The container was still part full from the way it sloshed when she shifted her weight, but she had no idea with what. Her data unit was on the similar drum in front of her, so she'd adjusted it to project its holographic display higher than she'd normally have done. Nothing that she needed to attend was happening on the dock, so she'd resumed winnowing data regarding 中古車買取 Radiance and the Commonwealth of God more generally.
Calling the Commonwealth a government was stretching the point. The Chief Elder was the titular head of a polity of over a hundred stars, but he answered to a Council of Seventy—and the fleets, numbering anything from three to a dozen depending on politics, were semi-autonomous and elected their own admirals.
"Mistress," Woetjans said. Adele heard the bosun speak and filed the fact to be dealt with as soon as she'd shut down the volume of the Shipping Instructions she was reviewing.
Factions within the Commonwealth elite were at daggers-drawn—literally, often enough. If the Alliance navy was willing to expend its resources at such a distance from its nearest existing bases, it could easily find powerful backers on Radiance.
A group claiming that human beings could breathe water could find backers on Radiance; all it would take was spreading a little money around. The Commonwealth was a bizarre assemblage that seemed to cling together only because its parts couldn't even agree to separate.
"Mistress?" Woetjans repeated. The bosun touched Adele's shoulder. Adele's left hand dropped into her tunic pocket. Her eyes were blank and her mind was awash with blazing terror, the hormonal rush that short-circuited thought by screaming "Run or kill!" to the lizard brain.
"The captain's about to speak, mistress," Woetjans whispered. If she'd noticed Adele's hand starting to come out of her pocket holding the little pistol, she was too polite to mention it.
"Thank you, Woetjans," Adele said, her voice trembling. She got off the drum to pick up the wand she'd dropped. With it again in her hand, she shut down the data unit as Daniel faced the crew in the light of the sun edging over the corvette behind him.
"Well, shipmates, it's been a long time since I've seen you all together," he said, his cheerful voice booming. "In a moment Lieutenant Mon will give you your discharges, but he's allowed me to say a few words to you first."
Daniel stretched his left arm back, pointing toward the Princess Cecile without taking his eyes off the ranks of spacers. The midshipmen and warrant officers, all but Adele herself and Woetjans—who'd apparently appointed herself to look after the signals officer—stood at the left end of the common crewmen.
"You all know the Sissie's being sold out of service," he said. "What you haven't known till now is that I'm leaving the RCN to become her captain. The Klimovs, the passengers who came from Strymon with you, have hired me to take them to the Galactic North aboard what was the finest corvette in the RCN!"
"Holy God and Her Saints!" Woetjans bellowed. The whole crew was either chattering or standing open-mouthed, a matter of how different temperaments reacted to amazement.
Dorst and Vesey were embracing. They couldn't afford 1st Class uniforms—neither had family money—but their Grays sported more medal ribbons than most officers several ranks their senior could claim.
"What about Lieutenant Mon?" Sun called, his voice echoing from the corvette's flank with a metallic harshness that was probably unmeant. "We heard he was going to be captain!"
"Mr. Mon has
"Perhaps not," said Daniel, his tone courteous to a fault. "But RCN officers are punctilious about their honor . . . and so are the Learys of Bantry. I hope you'll keep that in mind, because I'm looking forward to congenial relations with you during our voyage."
He cleared his throat and smiled broadly. "I believe we're ready for you to conduct your business with the Navy Office. While you're doing that, I'll address what I hope will be our crew," he said. "Yes?"
"Yes, yes of course," said the Count with a dismissive gesture.
"Yes," said Klimovna. "Very congenial."
* * *
Adele sat on a forty-gallon drum on the quay beside the Princess Cecile. The container was still part full from the way it sloshed when she shifted her weight, but she had no idea with what. Her data unit was on the similar drum in front of her, so she'd adjusted it to project its holographic display higher than she'd normally have done. Nothing that she needed to attend was happening on the dock, so she'd resumed winnowing data regarding 中古車買取 Radiance and the Commonwealth of God more generally.
Calling the Commonwealth a government was stretching the point. The Chief Elder was the titular head of a polity of over a hundred stars, but he answered to a Council of Seventy—and the fleets, numbering anything from three to a dozen depending on politics, were semi-autonomous and elected their own admirals.
"Mistress," Woetjans said. Adele heard the bosun speak and filed the fact to be dealt with as soon as she'd shut down the volume of the Shipping Instructions she was reviewing.
Factions within the Commonwealth elite were at daggers-drawn—literally, often enough. If the Alliance navy was willing to expend its resources at such a distance from its nearest existing bases, it could easily find powerful backers on Radiance.
A group claiming that human beings could breathe water could find backers on Radiance; all it would take was spreading a little money around. The Commonwealth was a bizarre assemblage that seemed to cling together only because its parts couldn't even agree to separate.
"Mistress?" Woetjans repeated. The bosun touched Adele's shoulder. Adele's left hand dropped into her tunic pocket. Her eyes were blank and her mind was awash with blazing terror, the hormonal rush that short-circuited thought by screaming "Run or kill!" to the lizard brain.
"The captain's about to speak, mistress," Woetjans whispered. If she'd noticed Adele's hand starting to come out of her pocket holding the little pistol, she was too polite to mention it.
"Thank you, Woetjans," Adele said, her voice trembling. She got off the drum to pick up the wand she'd dropped. With it again in her hand, she shut down the data unit as Daniel faced the crew in the light of the sun edging over the corvette behind him.
"Well, shipmates, it's been a long time since I've seen you all together," he said, his cheerful voice booming. "In a moment Lieutenant Mon will give you your discharges, but he's allowed me to say a few words to you first."
Daniel stretched his left arm back, pointing toward the Princess Cecile without taking his eyes off the ranks of spacers. The midshipmen and warrant officers, all but Adele herself and Woetjans—who'd apparently appointed herself to look after the signals officer—stood at the left end of the common crewmen.
"You all know the Sissie's being sold out of service," he said. "What you haven't known till now is that I'm leaving the RCN to become her captain. The Klimovs, the passengers who came from Strymon with you, have hired me to take them to the Galactic North aboard what was the finest corvette in the RCN!"
"Holy God and Her Saints!" Woetjans bellowed. The whole crew was either chattering or standing open-mouthed, a matter of how different temperaments reacted to amazement.
Dorst and Vesey were embracing. They couldn't afford 1st Class uniforms—neither had family money—but their Grays sported more medal ribbons than most officers several ranks their senior could claim.
"What about Lieutenant Mon?" Sun called, his voice echoing from the corvette's flank with a metallic harshness that was probably unmeant. "We heard he was going to be captain!"
"Mr. Mon has