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to the galley.
Justin followed the guard, who led him down a narrow flight of stairs to the
lower deck and then headed aft. Another guard, who was standing by a padlocked
door, unlocked the room and stepped aside. Justin stepped in, surprised at how
cramped the tiny room was. The air was thick and stank of unwashed bodies. If
not for zero gravity, it would have been impossible to fit everyone in.
"Hey, Justin, how goes it?" Matt asked, trying to sound cheery.
"O'Brian sent some food down for you guys."
Justin passed the containers out to eager hands.
"Any word on what's going on up there?" Madison asked.
"Nothing."
"Why are we even in here?" It was Marissa Iivollen, her face pale. "It'd be
nice to get out of here and stretch a bit."
Justin figured it was best not to share what he had experienced in the
Captain's cabin.
"Any of you go up to see the Captain yet?" Justin asked.
"Nope, we've been down here in the lockup since he grabbed us," Madison
replied, "except for the two that got sent down after questioning this
morning."
From what little he knew of Fleet Regulations he realized this was yet another
violation. No one could be held for an extended period without at least being
told of their offenses before a
hearing board and given the opportunity to offer an explanation.
"I think the whole thing will get straightened out soon," Justin replied
softly
"Not on this ship," Madison replied. "Any contact to the outside yet?"
Justin shook his head. The morning report from Doctor Zhing was that the storm
was intensifying and radiation levels inside the ship were climbing steadily
despite the fact that they were pulling away from the sun at over a hundred
and fifty thousand klicks per hour. All communication was down and expected to
remain that way until they were within close proximity of Mars.
'The guy's a nut case," Matt whispered, "a total nut case."
"Listen, all of you," Justin whispered. "All of you just keep your mouths
shut. Sing, dance, do anything, but absolutely not a word about anything going
on here," and as he spoke he motioned towards the speaker grill and blank
computer screen.
Matt nodded.
Justin drew closer to Matt.
"Are you really OK?" he whispered.
"Scared crapless," Matt sighed, his voice near to breaking. "I didn't hit him.
It was just that he scared me half to death, grabbing me like that in my
sleep. I was dreaming that Colson was after me with that baseball bat with a
spike in it like you and Malady played around with."
"I know."
"I think he's going to execute me, maybe the others too," Matt said.
Startled, Justin shook his head. "He can't. He's gotta go through a
court-martial board first and that means going to a base. And then there'll be
automatic appeals and believe me, when
Thorsson hears about this it's gonna be fat in the fire. You'll be OK."
"Thorsson is nearly ten million klicks away," Matt sighed. "Communications are
down so he might as well be sitting somewhere out past Betelgeuse. And
besides, remember, Article
Twenty-Three?"
Matt lowered his head and began to whisper, "in a time of war or emergency
mobilization, the commanding officer shall have, within his powers, the right
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and privilege to summarily execute the offender, by agreement of those staff
officers on board who are in good standing, if the actions of the offender do
jeopardize the safety of the ship or mission of that ship. If a member of the
Service under those above listed conditions should strike an officer, the
punishment shall be summary execution with the agreement of those staff
officers on board who are in good standing.'
"Remember, that gets read to us before every chapel or assembly. He read it to
us before we embarked."
"There's no official emergency," Justin whispered and his voice trailed off.
MacKenzie was claiming that just such a message had been partially received
before communications were lost.
Beyond that, they were heading into a sector where a military action might
very well be under
way at this very moment.
"That's nuts. Hey, he might be crazy, but he isn't completely off his rocker.
He harms one hair on your head and his career is zero, finished, and he knows
that. You don't just go around hanging cadets from the yardarm in this day and
age."
'They don't hang them, they space them," Matt replied and tried to force a
smile. "Hey, I'm a member of the Vacuum Breathers' club, remember, so it won't
be anything new to me."
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