Free The Stars Down Under by Sandra McDonald Page A

didn’t want me here anyway. Where am I being transferred to?”
    â€œOh, you don’t escape that easily. You’re his for three years, he says. He’d be willing to string you up on the yardarm in the courtyard, except for Kenny Deeds.”
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œCustodian. Came to work this morning, found rope tied to some pipes in the basement. Right near your office, in fact. And the scanners say you didn’t leave last night until well after working hours. Looks like someone’s been pulling shenanigans.”
    Myell gulped the coffee. It burned his tongue, but he was glad for the distraction. “I have nothing to say about it.”
    â€œNothing except you came in here fists flying, blaming Phil Talic for something. I’ll admit, the man’s stubborn. Not very personable. A stick-in-the-mud. But if you’re looking to blame someone for a prank or two, I don’t think he’s your man.”
    â€œI wouldn’t call it a prank.”
    â€œWould you call it an assault?”
    Myell remained silent.
    â€œHe’s denying everything, of course. Has a good excuse, too. Left here at fifteen hundred hours yesterday, went to the dental clinic. All right and proper.”
    Myell hadn’t accused Talic of being there. He hadn’t recognized the main attacker’s voice, and wasn’t sure if two or three other men had been with him. But Talic could have easily orchestrated it from afar.
    Gooder sighed. “For the good of the command, he’s not going to be pressing any charges. The two of you don’t have to love each other, but any more of what you did this morning, you’ll be sitting in the brig. You have a problem, you bring it to me. No one in this command goes it alone. Understand?”
    â€œYes.” Now that the adrenaline of the fight had faded, he was beginning to feel sheepish about losing his temper. He really did know better than that, though he obviously hadn’t proven it to anyone here.
    â€œCome on, then,” Gooder said. “I told the captain that to keep a proper eye on you, I need you up out of the dungeon.”
    Myell’s new office was just down the passageway from Talic’s. From his chair he had a view of the courtyard, where young sailors were marching in formation to and from classes. Within the hour a clerk from Etedgy’s office was signing over a hand gib for him and telling him how to set up an agent. Another clerk hauled up the boxes of regulations that Myell still needed to catalog. He may have been promoted out of the basement, but he had no doubts he was still on Captain Kuvik’s shitlist.
    Or maybe not. Right before lunchtime, Sergeant Etedgy came by with another assignment.
    â€œCaptain said to put you in with the 510s,” Etedgy said. “It’s a study hall for those needing extra help. Usually we just set them up with Core tutorials and let them go at their own pace.”
    Babysitting. Myell could do that. But he couldn’t quite face the ordeal of lunch in the mess. He made do with food from the vending machines. His esophagus was still smarting from a helping of spicy chili when he went in search of Classroom 510. It had nice views of Water Street, a dozen study cubicles, and a teacher’s desk filled with old newspapers and fishing magazines.
    He thought the room was empty, but some whispering led him to a pair of corner cubicles. Putty Romero was hunched over the gib of a young, fair-haired AT.
    â€œBut once you run your query, you don’t need the additional parameters—” he was saying.
    AT Tingley bit at her thumbnail. She was young, maybe eighteen, with a wide-eyed innocence that didn’t seem to take umbrage at Romero’s arm inching around her shoulder.
    â€œAT Romero,” Myell said, startling them both.
    â€œChief!” Romero said. His arm went back to where it belonged. “Didn’t hear