First Post|Previous Post|Next Post
Jack flushed. “Doctor Russ had to assist with some surgery ashore,” he said. “It appears that he was requested by name,” he added in the awkward silence.
This was true as far as it went, for one of the doctor’s friends from medical school, on learning of Doctor Russ’s presence at Neva-IV, invited him to scrub in on a knee reconstruction. But it avoided mentioning that Doctor Russ had failed to secure permission from his captain before stepping off of the Roth. No doubt this was a misunderstanding; there were no patients in the sick bay so Stephen could not be morally accused of deserting his duty; and as a new member of the Navy Stephen might not know that he needed permission to leave, while for his part Jack never thought to mention something so basic. But for the moment Doctor Russ was technically AWOL.
All of these thoughts flashed through Jack’s mind as he explained away Stephen’s absence, to be replaced a moment later by a different kind of dismay, and then a different kind again as the Admiral said, “finding himself a better craft, eh? Well, come on Willis, I’m clemmed,” and set off toward the great cabin, Roth’s skipper and the vice-admiral trailing in his wake.
In the cabin, Jack got three glasses of wine from the drinks machine and served his guests. Vice-Admiral Willis accepted his glass graciously, but Admiral O’Brian stared. “What am I, not good enough for private stock?”
Jack felt his face go red. “I haven’t had the chance to lay in private stores, sir,” he said.
The admiral grunted, but did not otherwise reply and they sat to their generic red wine.
Bollwerk knocked on the door and entered crabwise, bearing a steel tray with what looked to be meatloaf in brown gravy. “Thank you, Bollwerk,” Jack said when the man had served them. The admiral grunted again, while the vice-admiral nodded.
First Post|Previous Post|Next Post
No comments:
Post a Comment