The Circle (71 page)

I additionally wish to call the Court's attention to, and ask the Court to take judicial notice of in their deliberation, certain sections and articles in current U.S. Navy and NATO tactical publications. I mention specifically Articles 476, 477, 478, and 1273A of the General Tactical Instructions; Articles 513, 532, 533, 576, 577, 581, 1506, 1508, and 1522, Allied Naval Maneuvering Instructions; Articles 923, 924, 951, 952, and 1191 of Carrier Task Force Maneuvering Instructions. I also mention the International Rules for Prevention of Collision at Sea and U.S. Navy Regulations. These materials have been placed in the room set aside for your deliberation.

I have no further remarks.

At 1638, the members retired to their deliberations.

VI

THE AFTERIMAGE

Epilogue

The Pentagon, Washington, D.C.

IN the silent room, the old clock ticked. The stir in the corridors as men and women deserted the great building had departed long ago. At the door the guard's back was motionless, still. Beyond it through the far window night had come, covering the graves with the cold shadow of everlasting winter.

Waiting, he had slipped from impatience to resignation, to doze and then waken. His thoughts had wearied of their endless round. He sat now in a calm different from anything he had ever felt before.

He no longer cared about the pain. He wasn't thinking about his wife or his career, or of the men he had left in the light of flames, never to see again.

He waited, and did not glance up even at the murmured exchange outside his door.

“Sir. Sir?”

He started and came back. “Yes.”

“The Court will see you now.”

Weariness lay like the foreshadow of age along the muscles of his legs. He stretched, hearing joints crack. He straightened his tie and buttoned his blouse as best he could over the sling, all by habit, without thought.

The corridor was brightly lighted and empty, reflecting, as he walked, his face, distorted and pale in the gray-green tile. The marine led, a few paces in front. He took a breath, searching for fear, and was a little surprised to find none. If they'd called him in the morning, his heart would have been hammering as he walked toward judgment. But now he was at peace.
Everything will turn out all right.
At last he suspected what those words might mean.

The guard stopped, faced about, and snapped back to parade rest. A brass plaque read
PRIVATE
against walnut brightwork. Dan tucked his cap under his arm. The sling got in the way, but he got it wedged in. He knocked and entered and came to attention.

The room was larger then he'd expected. Someone's office, preempted for the court. The three admirals sat silent, awaiting him. He took a step forward, his sight narrowing, as if with tunnel vision, to the green baize surface of the table.

There was no sword on it.

“Please stand at ease, Ensign,” said the tall one, Dennison. “We'll keep you only a moment. Admiral Ausura, will you read the decision or shall I?”

The short man cleared his throat and picked up a typed sheet. Gold gleamed dully on his sleeves. Some part of Dan's mind noted the heavy, lustrous circle of gold on his left hand.

“Mr. Lenson, this Court has found you absolved of responsibility in the collision between USS
Kennedy
and USS
Ryan.
You are free to go.”

The words were in no sense dramatic, but they hung in the air for what seemed to Dan like a long time. They played over the surface of his mind like a breeze over a still sea.

“Do you have anything further to say?” asked Ausura, raising his eyes first to Morehead, so far silent, then to Lenson.

“What did you decide about—the rest of us? Evlin, and Bryce, and the captain?” he said.

A trace of expression flitted across the president's eyes, then was gone, dissolved back into the still, bleak face. “Lieutenant Evlin was also absolved in the matter. We have recommended that Commander Bryce's conduct after the collision be the subject of a separate court-martial.”

“And Captain Packer?”

“As a party, you will be sent a copy of the Findings and Recommendations. You can read our opinions and the grounds for them in full there. We found Commander Packer guilty of full responsibility for the collision. Captain Javits and Rear Admiral Hoelscher we found guilty of contributory negligence in that aspect of the matter. We have recommended they be issued letters of admonition. We are also recommending that Hoelscher's decision to extinguish the fire by ramming, though not necessarily unjustified, be looked into more closely than we can in this investigation.”

Guilty … absolved … admonished:
The words echoed on and on in a mind as empty as deserted corridors. Godlike words, sounding of doom.
Guilty
 … to bear that stain forever in the minds of men.
Absolved
 … blameless in legal terms, but the name
Ryan
would follow the man marked with it to the end of his days.
Admonished
 … it sounded innocuous, but it meant Javits's and Hoelscher's careers were finished. They'd serve out their tours, but they'd never hold another command.

“That's not right,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?” The eyes, which had dismissed him, came back up. Faces lined and leathered by age and weather lifted to study him.

“It isn't right that he gets—all the blame. Don't you know what he did in the Arctic, with that worn-out ship, that worthless crew?”

Ausura frowned. He glanced at the others, then cleared his throat and leaned back. “Mr. Lenson, you've been through a lot. Your remark's out of line. But your loyalty to your captain is commendable. And—pardon me, but you're very young. Let me explain something to you.

“A ship is different from anyplace on earth. It's dangerous at sea, as you've surely grasped by now. Dangerous, and separate. A captain has absolute power out there, extending—and it still does—to death. To trust a man with the lives of others is a grave thing. Only three principles make it work. Authority; responsibility; accountability.

“Authority is the root of command. We delegate it only for a time, only in exercise of an office, only as defined by custom and law. Never as an individual, never for very long, never as if by right, never without bounds.

“Responsibility defines what a man is trusted with, with the ship, with the conn, whatever. So it's all clear, up front, and everybody understands his duty.

“To be accountable means to be subject to justice. To punishment, if you will. If you fail your trust—are derelict in your duty, misuse your power, make a professional error—you will pay a price.

“In our profession, this accountability is absolute. When a naval officer accepts authority, he knows he will answer for the actions of his ship, whether or not he is directly and personally responsible in the way a civilian court would understand. For it is his responsibility to know and govern all that goes on aboard her, her flaws, her limitations, as well as her strengths.

“If error occurs, no matter whose, the fault is rightfully and inevitably his. Each commander knows this and accepts it as part of the job. No previous service, however meritorious, can make up for it.

“No matter what the extenuating circumstances may be, Commander Packer was accountable, utterly and alone, for his ship's maneuvers. Perhaps you see our decision as vengefulness, or expedience. It is neither. I assure you, if he were here today, the verdict would be the same.
Ryan
and her men died under his charge. Therefore, he was to blame.”

Dan was silent for a moment. Then he said, “That's wrong, sir.”

The three senior officers stiffened.

“By law and custom, you may be right. But I was responsible, too.”

“Mr. Lenson—”

“Wait. Lassard was responsible, too. Evlin was. Bryce. Commander Packer was sure, but not alone.”

Ausura half-rose, anger darkening his face. Dan plunged on, neither daring nor caring to think what he was saying. He had to say these things, now, to these men.

“Javits and Hoelscher made mistakes and you acknowledged that. But does it end there? Sombody should mention the others. I will.

“The ones who sent
Ryan
to the Arctic in winter, pulled from the yard, unready—they're responsible. Who got us into a war we couldn't win, and tore the country apart? Who neglected the Navy, made it keep on with worn-out ships and no parts? They're responsible.”

“Ensign—”

“I only have a little more, sir. We may not be accountable, but we're all guilty. The degree may vary, but the stain's on each of us.

“But I can't accept it for others. Only for myself. So I do. I'm responsible too. Punish me.”

“And if we refuse?” said Morehead in a dry voice.

“I will resign and carry my accusations to the press.”

The three men sat as if carved from dark blue stone. Morehead rolled a pencil slowly, his Academy ring gleaming. Ausura was breathing heavily. Dennison reached up to scratch his head. He sighed. “Step outside, please,” he said.

The guard came to attention as he came out. “Stand easy, Sergeant,” Dan said. “They'll want me back in a little while.”

A few minutes later Dennison opened the door. “Get in here,” he said.

He stood again in front of the table. “Ensign,” said the president heavily, “the Court of Inquiry has reconsidered. It now finds you and Alan Evlin, because he was senior to you on
Ryan
's bridge, and thus cannot be absolved if you are guilty, culpable of contributory negligence in the matter of the collision between
Ryan
and
Kennedy.
We have recommended that you be issued a letter of caution, to form a permanent part of your service jacket.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, and his voice, though calm, held a note of happiness.

*   *   *

OUTSIDE in the corridor, the guard muttered, “How'd it go, sir?”

“Not as bad as I thought.” He took a deep breath and explored his shoulder with his fingers. “No, not too bad.”

“Good. I was pulling for you. Need a cab?”

“Thanks, I should have a ride waiting.”

Outside, on the granite steps, he paused to flip up the collar of his bridge coat. The night wind pierced his cheeks, brushing his lashes with the vanishingly faint kiss of new snow. He took a deep breath, letting its clean cold wash through his blood. It smelled of the river, of the bay beyond, and he caught or imagined in it a trace of the dank salt scent of the sea. A great elm reached up beside the deserted bus stop, bare and spectral beneath its coating of ice. Beyond the empty lots the lights of the city glittered like a distant fleet at anchor.

A letter of caution. It wasn't as bad as an admonition or reprimand. It wouldn't be easy to make a career, with that in his record. But it wasn't impossible.

It was a fair judgment.

And Evlin? He smiled faintly. Somehow he felt that wherever he was, he'd understand. He'd have to explain to Deanne, though. And why he'd done it.

He stood under the granite loom, waiting. In the darkness the elm chattered faintly, the ice-encased branches trembling and rattling against one another for a moment in the cold wind before it died away. He shivered.

All at once, for an unimaginably brief and transient sliver of a moment, he felt as if he wasn't there, or that someone was, but not him; that he was nameless, manifold, myriad, as if he existed or had existed in as many selves as the multitude of carpeted lights. He wasn't alone. He was part of a great circle, which closed, which joined hands with itself.

“Al?” he muttered uncertainly. “Captain?”

But there was no answer. Out of the darkness the wind came again, and the branches rattled, and he was alone again on the steps. The world ran by accident, by random chance. There was no answer in the stars. None on the hollow wind. They were meaningless and mute, barren of all message save the enormous and incomprehensible fact that they existed.

Below him, in the empty lot, headlights came on. They swept around toward him, then grew brighter, searching through the falling snow.

Now that it was over, he'd have some time with her. Time to talk it out, to search out and heal whatever had torn between them. And he would. He had to. She and the Navy, those were the two givens in his life. The two things he loved, and was part of, and always would be, no matter what.

Holding the bill of his cap to keep it from blowing away, he began limping down the steps, toward the waiting shadow of his wife.

 

 

 

Office of the Judge Advocate General

Washington Navy Yard

Washington, DC 20402

 

From: President,
Kennedy–Ryan
Court of Inquiry

To: Secretary of the Navy

Subject: Opinion and Recommendations

Sir:

This court having inquired into all facts and circumstances connected with the collision recently occurring between USS
KENNEDY
and USS
RYAN,
and having considered the evidence adduced in the attached transcript, finds as follows.

OPINION

 

1. That the maneuver into the wind carried out by USS
KENNEDY
was a normal maneuver, properly ordered, and could have been safely executed.

2. That the left turn of
RYAN
across
KENNEDY
's bow was the direct cause of the collision.

3. That in making his final left turn, the Commanding Officer of
RYAN
made a grave error in judgment.

4. That the evolution originally planned by the Commanding Officer of
RYAN
to reach his new station involved unnecessary and considerable risk, and was in violation of the directive governing such maneuvers.