Memory of Morning (12 page)

Star was an ally in looking for people we knew. She did disappear down an alley for a bit, no doubt practicing her ratting skills, but mostly she stayed near me. I almost lost hope as the afternoon drew toward sunset. Surely Captain Copper was allowing the crew a few days of carousing while port workers started on needed repairs and resupply. And surely, not everyone was carousing all the time. Perhaps I should have chosen to wait outside the doors of the temple of consolation, but this thought did not occur to me until I'd been waiting several hours. I could be naive about people's sexual needs no matter how sophisticated I thought myself in many ways.

But as I was beginning to berate myself, the tavern door opened and a familiar person came out into the street.

Star jumped up and ran to him immediately. I stood, and got his attention with a wave. Mr. Waterman reached down to pet the dog, picked her up, and brought her over to me.

"Dr. Cliff? Whatever are you doing here?" He looked up and down the street. "It's not proper."

"Yet, here I am." I sat back down and gestured for him to join me. Star moved from his lap to mine, sitting on my knitting.

"Excuse me, Dr. Cliff, but I am slightly drunk."

"As you have every reason and right to be in this time and place," I assured him. "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Waterman. You are just the person I was hoping to speak with."

Mr. Waterman was the senior helmsman on the
Moonrunner
. He was highly intelligent, very observant, and he could talk to octopi. Rather, he could converse with them, which is a rare talent. Anyone could speak to an octopus, even I could do that.

"I do not wish to interfere too much with your free time, Mr. Waterman," I told him. "But - may I ask? - how are things on board the ship?" I chose my words carefully. "Has the crew had a proper welcome home?"

He gave a snort of laughter, said something crude, apologized, and said, "You're talking about those committees scrambling all over the base, aren't you? I used to have some respect for clerics," he added. "I thought we came home war heroes."

"So did I," I said. "But apparently there are those who disagree."

"There's people who don't like anything we've done on board the
'Runner.
They've been questioning the captain, all the officers, Dr. Swan. Even me."

My family? The universities? The navy?

"Were you questioned about your ability to communicate with--"

"The neighbors, that's what I like to call the octopi, Dr. Cliff. We share the world with neighbors in the water." He smiled. "You know what they're like."

"No one's ever told me it's wrong before. It's not wrong. Captain Copper says so. He always stops for a chat when the octopus bell sounds. "

"He does." I tried not to smile fondly.

"He lets everybody take a turn in the water with the neighbors. That way they get to know more about the land world. Different perspectives, he calls it."

I had never been more terrified in my life than the day I went in the water with - the neighbors. "Captain Copper's octopi policy is certainly correct."

I really wanted to pry, to find out if Mr. Waterman knew what Captain Copper and his officers had been questioned about, if he knew. But one can only probe so much before risking exciting gossip. At least I had learned a little, not that I had any idea what I should or could do with it.

I thought of one thing I could do.

"May I offer you a library subscription, Mr. Waterman? Seyemouth has a fine library, and I can arrange for the subscription length to coincide with your visits to the port."

If he was even a little drunk, the alcohol cleared instantly from his system. He stood, smiling broadly, and bowed to me. I had never seen anyone's eyes shine so happily. "Books, Dr. Cliff? You can arrange for the library to lend the likes of me books? Why?"

"To advance the cause of human and octopi relations, Mr. Waterman. The more you know, the more you can tell the neighbors."

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, Dr. Cliff, I can certainly do that. And I will." He took a step closer, said quietly, "And I'll be sure not to let any fool cleric know anything about this, either."

"I appreciate that," I replied, equally quietly. It felt as if we were conspiring - when we were doing nothing at all wrong. I hated having the feeling of standing on shifting sand enter my world. "Thank you for talking to me, Mr. Waterman."

I continued to sit on the wall after the helmsman took his leave. It had been a long, fraught, day, and I was suddenly aware of how very tired I was.

At least the water was warm. I floated, weightless on the water, frightened out of my mind. I can swim, and I was tethered to the ship, but I was in no way mentally prepared for this. Since my face was as wet as the rest of me, no one could tell I was crying. I was one of three of the crew floating in the incredibly blue, glassy calm water. To my left, Mr. Waterman was singing. He wanted to be doing this.

"Close your eyes," he had advised before we were lowered over the side. "Or look up at the sky. Count stars even if you can't see them. Good luck to you."

I prayed to the All, and to every aspect of the All I could remember. I looked up at the cloudless sky through blurred vision. Green Moon's huge disk could not be completely hidden by daylight, and it showed faintly above.

I wanted to get this over with. I didn't want to be doing it at all. I--

I couldn't scream when the tentacles closed around me, because one of them came over my mouth.

The octopus was careful to hold my head up out of the water. It supported me, cuddled me. Its body was a warm as any human’s, soft, malleable, but substantial.

I have no idea how long my panic lasted, but the octopus was patient. She kept me safe as long as I mindlessly struggled.

I do not know why my impression was that the octopus was a female - how can one tell the difference of the genders in such alien creatures?. But she was a she to me.

Eventually I lay limp and silent in her embrace and let her do what she wished with me.

I counted stars that weren't out. The sky was under water and the stars were tentacled. Floating baby stars. I reached for the baby stars.

I laughed softly at the memory, as well as shivered. I have never quite recovered from the fear of that wet, alien embrace. I dreamed of stars as octopi, or vice versa, for a long time afterwards. I still did sometimes, but whether I'd had some sort of communication with the octopus I cannot say. If she learned something from me by somehow being able to touch my thoughts I am glad to have been of service. But I never, ever want to do that again.

My laughter was interrupted by a yawn. It was nearly dark, the spring air cooling as night approached, and it was time for me to get back to my own section of the town. Star was not in my lap, and my knitting had tumbled to the ground. I realized that I had actually been napping rather than musing.

"Awake are we?" that blasted rich northern voice spoke close to my ear.

My head whipped round. And there he was, his recently trimmed hair covered with a battered tricorn hat. His long blue coat was worn as well, with not a bit of braid or rank markings showing. His long legs were stretched out before him.

Star was sitting on his lap.

"Traitor," I said to the dog.

"What?" Lord North asked. "Oh, you mean your pet." He put her down on the ground. "Star and I are old friends."

I couldn't believe that. I did gather my wits and rose to face him.

"Don't," he said when I began to curtsy. "Not here. Not that you have any business being here," he added.

I knew that - but it was infuriating to hear it from someone who had no business being in this neighborhood, either. "I am not an officer, sir," I said. "My presence hardly interferes with the private lives of the Navy's enlisted personnel."

He stood and bent to pick up my dropped knitting. He handed the soiled wool to me. "You don't know anything about the Navy," he told me. "Please give in to your urge to argue with me, Dr. Cliff." He grinned that compulsively infectious grin I'd experienced on the
Moonrunner.

I remained silent, and managed not to smile, but just barely to both. Oh, he was
so
infuriating!

"No?" He shrugged. "Oh, well. Run along. I'm off to a party." He turned to walk away, but gave me a look over his shoulder as he went. "Admiral Glass has just retired. Many toasts are about to be drunk in his honor. Expect to treat many a hangover tomorrow."

North swaggered off. I couldn't help but watch him go. I was rooted to the spot with embarrassment, and worry. All I'd wanted was a private talk with a friend. No one should have known or noticed. I had thought I was being careful to keep my reputation intact, to avoid any comments or gossip. But who had spotted me? The commander of the entire Imperial Navy. North could do anything with my reputation he chose.

How I hated that man as I made my way back to my dormitory room.

Chapter Sixteen

I moved in a tense cloud of worry the next few days. I kept my head down, being quiet and dutifully trying not to make a single misstep. The whole time I felt an itching tenseness between my shoulder blades, as though there was a target there waiting to be pierced. But after a bit, when no rumors or even odd looks were turned my way, I began to calm down. You cannot always be worried about the battles that are coming, I'd learned this lesson well enough, and it finally sank in about my personal life. Besides, who was I to think that Admiral Lord North had any interest in ruining me personally?

I did have to hand out some hangover remedies the next morning. And there was a meeting called of all the staff of the various healing buildings to formally announce Admiral Glass's retirement. A hat was passed to collect for a retirement present for the beloved old man. No immediate announcement was made of his replacement. After a while it occurred to me that the appearance Admiral Glass put in at my examination was him taking a last chance at making a public statement about his disapproval of modern naval policy.

It was not about me. I was very glad that it was not about me. This helped to somewhat ease my fear that I would not be awarded the surgeon's certificate. The wait was still difficult.

It did not help that no news came of my brother Alix's overdue ship. I checked the port docking lists every day with growing concern.

It helped that I had Dr. Heron's company during the days of waiting. Also, I ran into my friend, the artist, Erbesqe Flood, in the dormitory dining room the morning after I moved in.

"Good goddess of paint brushes," she said when I took a seat across the table from her. "When you disappeared into the arms of your clan, I never thought I'd see you again!"

"I am sorry it seemed that way. Perhaps we are a bit too insular," I replied. "Perhaps that is why we marry so many cousins. How are you doing, my dear? How does the Admiralty like the artwork you brought back?"

"Well enough that I've been commissioned to paint several admirals. And there might be a private commission or two to paint some admirals' wives."

No mention of committees and questions came up in our conversation that morning, or in the time we spent together over the next days. It appeared her artwork offended no one. I did not believe my friend knew anything about the tensions on base, and was glad of it. I even managed to hush Dr. Heron from bringing up the subject when he joined us one evening for an astronomy lecture at the Seyemouth Civic Hall.

Bell had only left me my old silver-gray evening dress for outings. Clean and mended, but still the same dress I'd had with me for the last two years. When I complained, Erbesqe suggested I wear it proudly, like a uniform. And so I did.

I worked my shifts, made arrangements for leaving once I had my test results and returning in the autumn for my first annual tour of duty. The novel in its red journal was returned to me. I was interviewed about the possibility of ship duty and stated officially that I wanted the full time granted to consider this very hard decision. I attended Dr. Heron's surgical examination and was both pleased and annoyed that the questions posed to him related only to medical matters. I think he was a bit disappointed as well, as it gave him no chance to be the least bit rude and pugnacious with his examiners. I certainly had no doubts that he would be awarded his surgical certificate. I was proud of him. And I still considered marrying him, but wasn't ready to give him an answer.

And my brother's ship still did not return.

After five days that dragged like a month becalmed I found an envelope waiting for me at the dormitory's front desk when I returned from my shift. I did not break the blue wax seal until I reached my room. I sat down hard and stared at nothing for I have no idea how long.

Inside the envelope was my surgeon's certificate.

I took Erbesqe and Dr. Heron out to dinner that night, and did not quite drink enough to need a headache remedy the next day. Which is a good thing, because the next day me, my dog, and my things took the last daily public coach out of Seyemouth along the road to Loudon.

Chapter Seventeen

I looked at the fold of paper in my hand, reading the address in my mother's handwriting one more time. I looked up and at the grounds to my right once more. The horse hitched to the horsecab snorted and pawed the cobbled street. The driver waited patiently for me to make a decision, but the horse wanted to be gone.