"You know, as much as this charge of treason hurts, there's one thing that hurts even more."
"What's that?"
"The best friend I ever had died thinking I betrayed him and his country."
(BR)
Wilma was surprised the next morning not to find Buck in the lounge at breakfast. He had seemed to want his friends around the previous day, had even come up to the bridge for company when he couldn't sleep. When exhaustion had finally forced him to his quarters, overcoming even his residual jangled nerves from the whole ordeal of the trial, she had accompanied him down there as far as the door, making sure of his destination and urging him to go to bed, and he had promised her that he would. He had looked half asleep already.
But by this morning, several hours later, he should have been up. He should have been ready once more for some reassurance by being around his new "family" of his shipmates. Hawk was at breakfast, which he often skipped in favor of a private meal in his quarters, but today, he had expected Buck as well, which he admitted when she sat down to join him.
"I thought he'd be here," Hawk said. He didn't bother to specify whom he meant by "he."
"So did I." Wilma nibbled a food disk. "He could still be asleep, I guess, but I would have expected him to wake up by now."
"We'll go to his quarters to check once we have finished eating," Hawk suggested, and somehow, the meal accelerated for both of them.
There was no response at Buck's cabin, and after calling and activating the door chime a few times, Wilma reluctantly used her administrative override. The doors opened, but Buck was nowhere in his quarters. He had apparently slept last night or at least been in his bunk; the blanket was still rumpled and pushed back out of the way, as if he had gotten up abruptly. But he wasn't here.
The two concerned friends went on up to the bridge, where Asimov was standing watching the star field. "Admiral," Wilma asked, "have you seen Buck today?"
"Yes, I have. He came to my quarters this morning quite early, apologized for waking me up, and asked for a day or two off. Given the circumstances, I couldn't refuse him that."
Wilma frowned. "A day or two off? What was he going to do? Did he leave the ship?"
"He said he was taking his starfighter, but he did say he'd be back soon." Asimov sighed. "I'm a little concerned, too, Colonel, but given what he's been through, I can understand him needing some space."
"Do you know where he went?"
"I assume back to Earth, but he didn't say. Maybe he wanted to revisit Chicago after the trial. Some sort of remembrance. It is his home town, after all."
"How did he seem when he spoke to you?" Hawk asked.
"Tense and edgy," Asimov admitted. "Look, I think we should give him a day or two as he requested. Any longer, and I'll definitely send people to look for him, but right now, maybe he just needs to be alone."
Wilma and Hawk looked at each other in silent shared thought. Neither of them thought Buck needed to be alone. "Is that an order, Admiral?" she asked.
Asimov shook his head. "That's my official position."
"Request a day or two off, Admiral," Wilma said promptly, with Hawk an only slightly delayed echo.
"Granted," he replied promptly. "Now mind you, I don't know for a fact what you're doing. But good luck, both of you."
"Thank you, sir," Wilma said, and they turned in unison and left the bridge.
