“At ease gentlemen,” the admiral rumbled. “I’m Admiral Slane, what may I do for you, captain is it?”
“Yes sir,” Captain Church replied. “These men need to travel to Landee and the ferry seems to be down, so I brought them here. We were hoping to obtain permission for them to ride the supply ship.”
“Who are you?” the admiral asked Lewis.
“Lieutenant Lewis, sir,” he answered, and then he added. “From Ascore.”
“Were you involved in that fight with the dark lanterns, north of Port Mist?” Slane asked.
“Yes sir,” Lewis admitted.
“Let me handle this, Captain. Thank you,” Slane told Church.
Church saluted and left.
The admiral looked at Fink. “And you?”
“My name’s Fink, here from Ladzoo. I’ve been with these guys since Port Mist,” Fink answered, looking uncomfortable in front of authority.
“Thank you, Mr. Fink. Please wait down stairs, Commander Sereno will accompany you. Commander, make sure he stays on the deck,” Slane then turned to Lewis and Victor.
He nodded toward the door where he had entered the room. They walked in, followed by the sounds of Slane’s wheels and a couple of pairs of feet. The table had room for twenty, so Lewis hesitated, waiting to see if they would be assigned seats.
“Down at the other end, Lewis on my right, Victor on my left,” the admiral said in answer to the unasked question. He rolled to the end and Lewis took the seat to Slane’s right. When he and Victor were seated they each found themselves between the admiral and a captain.
“All right sailor. Tell me what happened out there in Port Mist,” Slane said to Victor.
Victor provided a very vivid account of the battle with the dark lantern ships. Lewis thought he overdid Romeos’ heroics a bit, but he did not comment. Victor stopped when he reached the end of the fight, but the captain sitting next to him coaxed him to continue. He told about the riots, arrests and incarceration that followed. When his story had reached the point where Wilsey was back at base, the admiral stopped him. Slane then called his receptionist.
“Prepare a room in the guest quarters for these men, perhaps number twelve, then find Lieutenant Junior Grade Victor and Mr. Fink something more appropriate to wear,” the admiral ordered, and then turned to his captains. “You gentlemen have duties to attend to, I will talk to Lieutenant Lewis alone.”
When everybody had left he looked hard at Lewis. “We are very interested in what you and your captain are going to do. Are you at liberty to discuss details?”
“Somewhat,” Lewis answered. “What details did you have in mind?” he handed his papers to the admiral.
Slane read the letters from Trun and Skobin. “You made a good impression so far. Am I correct in my understanding that you are going to Mount Calo, and that’s why your team is meeting in Landee?”
“That’s right,” Lewis told him. “It’s no secret we’re hoping to find some charts that will show this place in relation to the rest of the stars. The DeLeahs seem to want to get back to some business where ever they came from.”
“Are you leaving with them?” Slane asked.
“I don’t think I know the answer to that yet,” Lewis said.
“Do the DeLeahs intend to report this place to the confederation?” the admiral wanted to know.
“I don’t have that information yet either, I guess it depends on what the consensus is from the local groups,” Lewis replied. “I understand they stand to profit from both paths.”
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“What do you think about Ascore’s prospects, if the source of order and funding goes away?” the admiral leaned on the table and toward Lewis.
Lewis pondered the question, wondering how much progress had been made since he left. “I would imagine it depends on how much preparation the city’s new population is given, as well as how much support they receive from the established powers.”
“That was a very vague answer. The place rises like a leatherwing out of the rubble, nobody expected it. Do you think DeLeah ventures is able to plant a hardy enough seed? Or does it just collapse like a hot air balloon when you deprive it of fuel?” Slane sounded a little sharper than before.
“My guess is that it’ll be rocky, but that they will make it,” Lewis said, after a short delay. “If I understand the picture correctly, the DeLeahs do things like this, mostly impromptu, and they are used to seeing it succeed. The confidence with which they operate speaks of more than merely money.”
“OK, let me ask you this,” Slane said. “You have opened an office in Port Mist and acquired a warehouse in Dontil, what happened to Fort Dillson?”
“Fort Dillson is on my list, but getting to Landee was more urgent,” Lewis replied.
Admiral Slane seemed satisfied and instructed Lewis to see the receptionist for directions to his room, so Lewis went out to her desk. She continued to write while he stood and waited. When she was finished she called over one of the sailors guarding the door.
“Petty officer Rey, please escort Lieutenant Lewis to his room.” She said, indicating Lewis.
“Yes ma’am,” he said quickly, then turned to Lewis. “Are you Lieutenant Lewis, sir?”
‘I am,” Lewis replied.
“Very good,” Rey sounded very serious. “Please follow me sir.”
They went out a backdoor in the lobby, and up several flights of stairs. Lewis tried a couple of times to strike up a conversation, but the petty officer didn’t seem interested, so Lewis stopped talking and followed quietly.
Suite number twelve was a luxurious unit, with four bedrooms off of a common room with a kitchenette. The floors were polished wood and the furniture made of plastic and shiny metal. Lewis walked through a bedroom, which had its own bathroom, and everything looked clean and new. A balcony looked over a few shorter buildings and out to sea. Fink sat on the balcony to his right, wearing an officer’s dress uniform with a small ‘V’ on the left shoulder. His face was shaved clean and his shoulder length hair was pulled back in a small pony tail. When he turned to Lewis he had a pipe in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Not a bad place to be a prisoner,” Fink said pleasantly. “I could handle this mistreatment for a while.”
“What makes you think you’re a prisoner?” Lewis asked.
“I was brought here under armed guard,” Fink replied. “And when I stuck my head out, he was still there and he very politely informed me that I should stay put.”
“How about we test your theory in a little while?” Lewis asked.
Fink nodded and went back to gazing out over the harbor and puffing thoughtfully on his pipe. Lewis returned to the bedroom and looked around. The little closet was empty, so he went to the next bedroom. He found the door closed and went on to the last one. The door was open; a dress uniform was laid out on the bed. He held it up and it looked like it would fit, so he took a quick shower to wash off the road dirt, shaved and put on the uniform. It had a small ‘D’ on the shoulder, but no other insignia.
When he reentered the common room, he found Victor in a similar uniform which showed his rank, all cleaned up and reading what looked like a newspaper.
“Look at this,” Victor said, handing it over and pointing out an article.
The article talked about the attack by the dark lanterns. The details were sketchy, but it did give credit to two ‘as yet unnamed parties’ for coming to the aid of the defenders’ warship. It went on to say that the dark lantern leadership denied any involvement in the incident, and expressed regrets for any loss of life or property damage that resulted from their wayward captains’ actions. The whole affair was still under investigation.
“Is this produced by the defenders?” Lewis wanted to know.
“No, it’s by a private business in Fort Wutanna,” Victor answered, looking puzzled. “Why?”
“Because, I’m wondering why they wouldn’t name the two parties who helped,” Lewis said. “I would think it may have helped to reduce tensions between the defenders and the submerged people.”
“There’s still a lot of anger over their attempts to invade us,” Victor told him. “I’m not surprised that their small contribution wasn’t mentioned, but it seems to me that they should have told the people what you did, you and your people carried the day.”
“You know, I’d be careful who you say that to,” Lewis laughed. “You might step on somebody’s feelings.”
Lewis polished his boots, and then fetched Fink so they could all go out together. The sailor outside their door nodded when they entered the hallway.
“Admiral Slane requests your presence for dinner,” he said, addressing all of them. “Shall I show you the way?”
“Lead on,” Lewis told him.
They arrived on the main deck amid at least a dozen officers in full dress uniforms. The crowd flowed into a corridor and their guide led them to the rear of the procession. Everyone ended up in a formal dining room, where the sailor left them.
“The admiral’s over there, I have to go,” he said, heading for the door.