THE HELMSMAN: Director's Cut Edition Read Online Free

“We have nearly a cycle to go.”
    “No little wonder,” the man said, panting, then suddenly looked at Brim with something like recognition. “You're not that Carescrian sublieutenant, are you?” he asked.
    “I am,” Brim asserted, immediately on the defensive.
    The other grunted. “Well, you certainly don't look odd,” he observed.
    From bitter experience, Brim knew Imperials often had no idea they were giving offense; and now was not the time to teach this one. “Ready?” he asked evenly.
    “As I'll ever be, I suppose.”
    Brim rapped firmly.
    “It's open,” a voice called from inside.
    Brim pushed the latch plate.
    Inside, with her back to the door, Lieutenant Commander, I.F. Collingswood stared intently at a display. Soft chords of stately, unfamiliar music beguiled Brim's ears from the background. “Come in,” she urged without turning around. “I shall be finished momentarily.”
    Brim led the way, then stood uncomfortably in the soft, haunting music until she cleared the display and swiveled her chair, looking first at one and then the other. She had a long, patrician nose, hazel eyes, and soft chestnut curls. Graceful fingers interlaced on her lap.
    “Well?” she asked.
    “SubLieutenant Wilf Ansor Brim reporting for duty aboard I.F.S. Truculent, ma'am,” Brim said with as steady a voice as he could muster. In the following silence, he realized he was very nearly terrified. He also noticed he was not the only one — his overweight counterpart hadn't even opened his mouth. Still in silence, he offered his orders card, carefully turning it for insertion in a reader.
    Collingswood read the printed name, then — accepting the other's without a glance — placed both behind her on the desk. She frowned. “So you're Brim?” she asked inƒ a quiet mezzo.
    “Yes, ma'am.”
    “That makes you Theada,” she said to the other.
    “J-Jubal Windroff Theada the Third,” he said, “from Avalon.”
    “Yes,” Collingswood said with a frown. “At one time, I knew your father.” Silent for a moment, she smiled distantly, then went on. “I suppose both of you are fresh from Helmsman's training,” she said.
    Brim nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” he said again. The other continued his silence.
    A tiny smile escaped Collingswood's thin mouth. “Ready to take old Truculent into space from the command seat, then?” she joked.
    “I'd gladly settle for any seat up there, ma'am,” Brim said with a grin. For the first time, it occurred to him the woman was dressed in a threadbare sweater and short skirt that revealed slim legs and soft, well-worn boots. Somehow, even at her leisure, she looked every inch a captain.
    “You are the one who piloted those horrible ore carriers, aren't you?” she asked.
    “Yes, ma'am,” Brim answered, again braced for the inevitable insult.
    “Hmm,” she mused, “I understand they require some rather extraordinary flying.”
    Brim felt his face flush and kept an embarrassed silence.
    Collingswood smiled again. “You'll show us your talent soon enough, Lieutenant.” she said. “And you, Lieutenant Theada. Shall I put you in the command seat straight off?”
    “W-Well, Captain,” Theada stammered, “I only h-have about three hundred metacycles at the controls… and some simulator time. I don't know if I'm actually ready f-for the left seat right away “
    “You'll build your metacycles quickly in Truculent,” Collingswood interrupted with just the shadow of a frown. Then her neutral smile returned. “Lieutenant Amherst will expect you to check in with him; he's our number one. And of course you must see Lieutenant Gallsworthy when he returns to the ship. He's chief Helmsman — you report to him.” Abruptly, she smiled, then swiveled back to the display. “Welcome aboard, both of you,” she said in dismissal.
    Brim led the way out the door. Just as he stepped over the sill, Collingswood turned his way again. “By the by, Lieutenant Brim,” she said, looking past