Third World (30 page)

The people in his department had done
well to keep up with events and that at least reflected well upon
him.

“
Hermes’
performance was satisfactory. Your work in
internal logistics, parts and stores, has been exemplary.”
Commander Burke glanced at some hand-written notes, very thin and
sparse on the page, mostly one or two words per line.

Newton didn’t dare try and read what
was there. He was almost afraid of knowing what Burke thought of
him.

“
When something breaks or
goes wrong, you have just the part. Your department has provided
everything from shoes and socks to washers for the bathroom taps.
We always seem to have all the tools and supplies for needed
repairs.” The commander eased back in his seat. “People say you are
good to work with. Always cheerful, well-balanced, good with your
people. Your people are well-trained.”

“
Thank you, sir.” Where in
the hell was this going?

He was getting a bad feeling, and he
had learned to trust his instincts.

“
One thing about your
report. Why did you put him in police custody? Surely you must have
foreseen potential problems…?”

Newton pursed his lips.

“
Ah. Under the
circumstances, with only a ninety-five percent chance…the
prisoner’s health and welfare were my highest priority.”

Burke nodded, looking at his papers and
analyzing tone more than anything. He looked up with a smile, which
quickly faded to sober calculation. Newton had the feeling the
Commander could read his mind, and it wasn’t good.

“
I have an unofficial query
from higher up.”

“
Sir?”

“
The armed tug
Myrmidon
is in the
neighbourhood. Her commander is near retirement age, and perhaps
more importantly, he is not well.” Burke went on to
explain.

Apparently Captain Hedges was an old
salt and would be taking a good hard look at the man taking his
ship from him…

Shapiro would be acting-Commander, with
full pay but provisional rank and seniority, until regular Fleet
promotions came up. A yearly list was published and if he did well
his name would be on it.

Shapiro firmly kept his jaw from
dropping any further.

“
Would you like a crack at
her?”

Newton could have sworn there was the
hint of tears, a suspicious watering of Burke’s eyes.

“
Yes, sir.” Newton was
surprised by how it came out in a kind of croak, but it was all
right.

Burke grinned.

“
All righty then.” He
glanced at the notes.

“
Who do you recommend as
your replacement?”

“
Spaulding if she wants the
work.” It might not be her cup of tea.

Burke nodded.

“
What did you think of
Cornell?”

“
He’s a good
kid.”

“
Hatcher?”

“
Give him any job with a big
instruction manual, and some technical system involved, and I
reckon he’ll be happy.”

The commander asked about each and
every damned one of them on the mission. He only left out
one—Jackson.

Newton’s impression would go towards
building files on each of them. They were all pretty good people,
although in his opinion one or two probably wouldn’t re-enlist when
their hitch was up, and that was only to be expected. In the long
run, it was best for the individual as well as the
service.

Finally Burke ran out of questions.
Newton knew by now that he had actually read the report, every
stinking word of it. That impressed him.

“
All right, Lieutenant. You
are dismissed. And congratulations, by the way.”

Newton rose to go. The commander came
around the desk and shook his hand without saying a word. They
shook hands. The Commander stepped in, arms wide, and gave him a
manly hug. Then he stepped back and saluted him. Newton saluted him
just as formally and then stumbled in a state of brain-fog from the
room.

Closing the door quietly, he was a bit
startled to see Jackson just down the hall and coming this
way.

“
Congratulations,
Newton.”

“
Thank you—Mister Jackson.”
His eyebrows rose.

Jackson eyed him with a crooked
smile.

So Jackson was observing him the whole
time! No wonder he seemed so self-possessed, with the sort of
gravitas that none of the rest could even dream of. It was a
façade. His official title and the more obvious duties as Personnel
Officer weren’t the half of it.

“
You son of a
bitch.”

Jackson snickered.

“
Actually, I think the
proper term is horn-swoggler.”

He stuck his hand out and they shook,
eyes meeting in silent regard.

“
You’ll get used to it.
Anyway, you did very well.”

With one last look at a dazed
Lieutenant Newton Shapiro, he gave a quick and curious little
knock.

Burke’s muffled voice called
out.

With a twist of the knob Jackson
entered the Commander’s office, leaving the Lieutenant to wonder
what in the hell had just happened.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

The Whole Town Came
Out

The whole town came out.

The wedding was held under the
spreading branches of a huge old oak-like tree in front of the
church.

The bride was dressed in her mother’s
wedding gown, suitably let out and Hank had a fine new suit of
black broadcloth and hat and boots to match, suddenly thirty
percent off at Peltham’s. He wore a tie, for the first time in his
entire life, and felt queasy in the stomach for days
beforehand…

Marty read the service and Abe Peltham,
as an old friend of the family, gave the bride away. Missus
Morgensen, clearly ailing but as pleased as could be at the fine
match her daughter had made and with much of the worry about her
child’s future gone now, kept dabbing a fine lacy handkerchief to
her eyes. She had a friend at each elbow to hold her up.

She seemed to have a bad case of the
sniffles as well.

Most of the women, many of the girls
and one or two old codgers wept right along with her. A peculiar
hush came over the assembly as they strained to hear the
words.

“
Do you, Polly Morgensen,
take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“
I do.”

“
And do you, Hank Beveridge,
take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“
I do.”

The couple held hands and gazed into
each other’s eyes. Marty smiled out at the crowd and held up a hand
in pause.

“
You may now kiss the
bride.”

They didn’t need telling
twice.

A cheer went up that could have been
heard at other end of town although the only ones there to hear it
were one or two cripples and anyone fortunate enough to ride into
the village at that exact moment. Women bustled off to see to the
wedding feast inside the hall behind and the men pulled out their
pipes for one last smoke before going in. Children and young girls
clustered around the pair of newlyweds. Little boys whooped and
hollered and kept throwing stuff. Women came out and loaded trays
covered with linen towels into the back of the cart. An old gomer,
Tom Higgins, smacking in the cork with the heel of a palm,
contributed an earthenware jug of something wet with a special wink
at Hank and Polly.

It was a bit of a tradition around here
and it saved some time for the bride and groom, no doubt eager to
get to know each other a little better. It was all very practical
and took into account local conditions.

They were bombarded with bits of paper
and dry grains of millet as they headed to the pony-cart that
Peltham had loaned for the occasion.

Surrounded by friends, family and
well-wishers, the happy pair set off for their homestead four
kilometres out the northeast trail, and presumably, lived happily
ever after, even though life really doesn’t work that way and they
probably did face their own unique challenges.

Quite a few of them, most
likely.

End

About Louis
Shalako

Louis Shalako began writing
for community newspapers and industrial magazines. His stories
appear in Perihelion Science Fiction, Bewildering Stories, Aurora
Wolf, Ennea, Wonderwaan, Algernon, Nova Fantasia, and Danse
Macabre. He lives in southern Ontario and writes full
time.

http://shalakopublishing.weebly.com