Chapter 2
Petty Officer Tony Piccolo picked at his pancakes. There was nothing wrong with them. In fact, his breakfast was pretty darned good even by navy standards, because they'd resupplied at Galapagos. Everything was fresh and everyone aboard was still talking about the events of the last few days. And why wouldn't they? It was historic and stupendous and downright awesome. They had seaQuest back and Captain Bridger had told those thieving aliens to stay the hell away from Earth. Everyone was happy.
Admiral Noyce was aboard, but only to hitch a ride back home, not for inspections or anything that would give the crew headaches. He spent most of his time chewing the fat with the captain. The tour was over and they were headed home to Fort Gore. Everyone would be getting a nice long leave. For the thousandth time, Tony tried to convince himself that he could just put off dealing with his problem, enjoy his leave time with his aunt, nieces, and nephews, brag to them about his promotion, and bask in their pride. But he couldn't do it. He'd told Eddie it was better to just take responsibility for mistakes. Now he had to put his money where his mouth was.
He glanced at his watch. He wasn't due for bridge duty for another six hours, but he didn't want to call Commander Ford too early. There was no reason to make the commander any madder than necessary by disturbing his sleep. He'd thought about bypassing Ford and going straight to the captain. After all, the captain had personally promoted him, but he knew that would be a cowardly move, not to mention a breach of protocol. He had to face the strict military man he reported to and not the more fatherly captain.
Tony sighed, pushed away his still-full breakfast tray and pulled out his PAL. "Piccolo to Ford." Please don't be asleep.
"Ford here. What is it, Piccolo?"
He couldn't have been asleep to answer that fast and that coherently. Tony tried to decide whether he was any more annoyed than usual, but it was difficult to read him in person and nearly impossible on a PAL. "Commander, I need to talk to you."
"You are talking to me."
"I mean in person, sir. Like⦠privately?"
"Can it wait until I'm on duty?"
Tony wracked his brains trying to figure out what to say. It was a Navy matter. He'd thought he was being courteous to deal with it on his off-time, but he hadn't thought about Ford not wanting to waste any of his free time. "It can wait if you want it to, sir."
"Does this have anything to do with the honey and feathers I saw all over the enlisted mens' showers?"
Tony sighed. He hadn't complained about all the pranks and hazing he'd been enduring. Not once. He'd been a really good sport. And even though he'd been the one who ended up wearing the honey and feathers and running down the corridors looking like Big Bird, he'd cleaned it up when he came back to the showers and discovered that the perpetrators left a mess. "No, sir. It's more important than that, but we can do it when it's convenient for you. Sorry to have disturbed you, sir." Great. Six more hours with knots in my stomach.
There was a short pause. "Can you meet me in the Ward Room in half an hour?"
He breathed a small sigh of relief. One way or another, it would be over soon. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He stood, replaced his PAL on his belt, grabbed his tray and took it to Dagwood, who was seated on the other side of the mess. "You want any of this, buddy? I'm not hungry."
Dagwood's face twisted up in confusion. "You're not hungry, Tony?" He looked down at the food suspiciously.
"Yeah, I don't blame ya for thinking that. If you don't want it, just chuck it, okay?" He clapped the big guy on the back.
Tony went back to his quarters. Lucas was playing an Internex game with some dude he called "Wolfman". At least Tony thought it was a dude. Wolfman could be a dame for all he knew. It had been literally months since Lucas played any kind of computer game and he looked like a starving bum at a Thanksgiving feast with his eyes glued to the screen and a big grin on his face.
"Don't worry, I'm not stayin'," he assured his roomie, hands raised in surrender. Not that the kid even noticed he'd entered. Tony hurried to his locker. "You may even be rid of me permanently after this," he muttered under his breath. He knew Lucas was way too engrossed in his game to have heard it. He pulled out his brand new uniforms: navy blue coveralls with his name and new rank embroidered on the front. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He added his personal favorite to the top of the pile: the one Commander Ford had given him when they were trapped in the future. One of the pants legs had been cut off and re-sewn by hand and a piece of fabric with his name in permanent marker was sewn over the original owner's nameplate. He didn't have to remove it to know it had been Ford's own uniform. He would never have worn it on duty ever again, but he would have loved to have kept it. Truth was, he didn't want to part with any of them. Every last one of them was clean, pressed, and meticulously folded to regulation. Tony wore jeans and a t-shirt. All his uniforms were in that pile.
He jerked his eyes away from staring at them. This was no time to get all sentimental about attire. Standard prison-issue clothes were the least of his problems. Sure, he wasn't looking forward to more time in the brig or the inevitable court martial, but the worst was going to be seeing Commander Ford's disappointment in him when he confessed. Man, he would do anything to weaken that blow. Well, anything but continue to lie.
Lucas didn't look up from his computer screen as Tony headed to the hatch. He wondered if the kid would come see him in the brig. He glanced at the aquatube and wondered if he'd ever see Darwin again. The dolphin had access to almost all of the boat, but there were no aquatubes near the brig. Probably just as well. Tony didn't need temptation to try a jailbreak. He was gonna take his lumps this time and finally make a clean break with the past. He probably wouldn't get back on seaQuest after he'd served his time, nor would he be a petty officer, but at least he could start with a truly clean slate. Then if he made any strides forward, he could enjoy it and stop worrying about being discovered.
He closed the hatch with one hand and then used both hands to steady his stack of uniforms. He knew he was early, but he went straight to the Ward Room anyway. Maybe the commander would show up early and he could get this all over with. He set the uniforms down on the table and straightened the ones that had been rumpled slightly in transit. He had never taken better care of any kind of clothing in his life. But this was the only way he had to show that he cared about what he was giving up, that he had appreciated the promotion and the vote of confidence, that it crushed him inside to have to make this sacrifice.
Alone in the room, he paced nervously, mentally rehearsing what he had to say and hoping that he could just take it like a man and not make anything worse. No attitude, no wisecracks, and no jokes, unless they were at his own expense. Maybe, if he was lucky, the commander would let him report to the brig without being escorted by Security in handcuffs. Yeah, and maybe Admiral Noyce would come sing him a lullaby too.
The door opened and Tony whirled around, straightening as stiff and tall as he could, with his hand touching his forehead in a sharp salute.
"You're not in uniform, Tony," Ford said with a hint of a sigh. "At ease."
Tony relaxed, but only a little. He still couldn't bring himself to look at the commander. He stared straight at the wall.
Ford noticed the stack of clothes. "Something wrong with your uniforms?"
"No, sir. They're perfect. But I got no right to wear 'em. I brought 'em to turn in. They're clean and ironed and everything."
"What do you mean, you have no right? The captain promoted you himself. And I gave him a hard time because he beat me to the punch."
Egads, it was even worse than he thought. The commander had wanted him promoted too? Tony drew a deep breath and steeled himself. He wasn't going to back down now, no matter how hard it got. "I got no right to be in the Navy at all, sir. I lied to my recruiter. I came to confess so's you can start the court martial."
Ford sighed heavily and pulled out a chair. "Sit, Piccolo. Let's hear it all."
Tony finally broke his stiff stance and did as the commander asked, taking a seat opposite him at the table. Ford was dressed in grey workout sweats, but it didn't look like he'd been in the gym yet. His sweats always showed evidence whenever he worked out. Tony clasped his hands together atop the table so he wouldn't fidget. He kept his eyes glued to his hands for the most part, but looked up every once in a while.
"All right, did you verbally lie or was it on the application?"
"Both."
"So there's written evidence of this lie in your service record."
"Yes, sir."
"That's perjury. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"
Tony cringed. "I'm guessing two to five years?"
Ford pressed his lips together and shook his head.
"More?" Tony sighed. "Great. Just great."
"What did you lie about?"
"They don't let you join up without a high school diploma or a G.E.D. Remember I told you I'm dyslexic? I can't read and I didn't graduate. I paid someone to take the G.E.D. test for me. I wore a fake cast to have an excuse for someone else to fill out the application."
Ford's voice took an upturn. "If you couldn't read the application, then you didn't realize you were committing perjury to sign it."
"I knew it was wrong. The recruiter read it all and answered questions and everything. I got no excuse."
"Your enlistment is almost up. You could have just taken an honorable discharge and been done with it. Why confess at all?"
"Because I wanna do somethin' right for once. I like bein' a petty officer. I like havin' you and the other officers lookin' at me like I'm not a total screw-up. The cap'n said I could go as far as I wanted if I kept up good work. I figured if I came clean and did my time, then I got a chance at really earnin' a real promotion some day."
Ford reached across the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You really earned this one, Tony. And maybe even another one. Brody and O'Neill reported what you did in the shuttle when it overturned. If you hadn't closed that hatch, everyone would have drowned."
"'Cept me."
Ford gave a slight nod. "All the more impressive because it wasn't self-motivated."
"Big deal. I closed a door while breathin' normally."
"Yeah, okay. No one's put you up for a medal, but that doesn't mean we didn't notice that you took initiative and helped out where you could. Nobody ordered you to do it."
Tony shrugged. What kind of whacko would have watched a whole bunch of people drown when all it took to save them was closing a stinkin' door? The water wasn't even cold or anything! He'd have done it for strangers and those were his best friends.
"Tell me something, Piccolo. Are you willing to study so you can pass the G.E.D yourself?"
He didn't think they had any tutors in New Leavenworth, but he was hoping he could take remedial classes after he got out of prison. "Uh, sure."
"Let me talk to the captain. We'll work something out with the Navy, but you've got to be willing to work on your own time and make good on this."
"You mean I'm not gonna get court martialled?"
"I don't think so, but if you do, I'll be a character witness on your behalf."
Tony blinked and looked him in the eye. "You will?"
Ford nodded. "Absolutely."
"And you're not gonna send me to the brig?"
"Nope. And if I know Captain Bridger, he won't either. You could have gotten away with this very easily. It shows character that you told the truth."
Wow. He caught the stack of uniforms in his peripheral vision. His watch was less than six hours away. "Should I go back to my seaman's duds until you got it worked out?"
"No. You earned your rank. You have every right to be court martialled as a petty officer if you've got to be tried at all. If you're convicted, then you might lose it, but I don't think anyone here would want to see your rank taken away."
Tony just sat there with his jaw on the floor. Commander Ford had the perfect opportunity to get him off the boat forever and he not only wasn't taking it, but he was willing to help him?
"Close your mouth, Tony. Stop being so surprised that you're valuable when you're not screwing around. You've done good by us. We're not going to turn our backs on you."
"I don't know what to say, sir."
"How about 'Thanks'?"
He snapped out of his stupor. "Oh yeah. Thank you, sir. Thank you very much."
Ford extended his hand. "You're welcome. Just keep this quiet until I talk to the captain, okay?"
Tony shook the offered hand, grinning. "You got it. Mum's the word." Eddie was right. He hit the jackpot getting assigned to seaQuest. Now he was coming clean, not going to jail, keeping his promotion, and learning to read. Ford walked out while Tony gathered up his uniforms. He muttered to himself, "Man, I oughtta bet on the longshot, 'cause I gotta be the luckiest guy on Earth." On second thought, he'd probably used up all his luck and didn't dare expect any to be left over for race horses. Sheesh, was he getting so respectable that he was thinking of giving up gambling? Maybe, Piccolo, just may be.
