Earth Afire (The First Formic War) by Orson Scott Card, Aaron Johnston Page A

doesn’t do it, there’s already talk of it being taken from him.”
    Lem feigned shock. “Mutiny?”
    “Don’t pretend to be appalled, Lem. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    Now he sincerely looked surprised. “You don’t honestly think I want mutiny, do you?”
    She frowned and folded her arms. “Probably not. But you might not be too quick to squelch it.”
    He smiled. “That is the captain’s duty. Not mine.”
    She laughed. “You know, sometimes I look at you and see a younger version of your father, and sometimes I see a better version of your father.”
    “Yet you always see my father. I’m not sure how to take that.”
    “You are your father’s son … whether you want to be or not.”
    He was surprised by that statement. Was it that evident that he hoped to distance himself from Father? He had been careful never to disparage Father in front of anyone, especially the crew. If anything, he had always spoken of his love for Father, which was not easily expressed but which was true nonetheless. He did love Father. Not in a traditional sense, perhaps, but the respect he held for Father was, he had to admit, a love of sorts.
    There was a chime, and the female voice of the computer announced, “Chief Officer Patrick Chubs.”
    Benyawe smirked. “Shouldn’t that be Captain Chubs?”
    Lem ignored her. “Enter,” he said.
    The door slid open, and Chubs floated into the room. He looked tired and not at all surprised to see Benyawe. “So how do you want to do this exactly?” he asked Lem.
    “Do what?” Lem asked.
    “Finish this fiasco. We’ve got to see it through. I’ll refuse the captainship and promise never to interfere with your orders again. How do you want to do it? You want me to make an announcement, write a mail message, or do we need to have another scene in front of the crew? Frankly whatever the plan is, I’d like to get it over with.”
    Lem felt a pang of guilt then. Benyawe was right. Chubs had been dutiful. He didn’t deserve to be vilified. The man was only doing the job Father had hired him to do. Lem unzipped himself from the hammock and floated over to him. “You will always have a place in this company, Chubs. A good place. Your pick of it. I’ll see to that. And should you refuse the captainship and insist that I take it, I would keep you as my chief officer. I’d be foolish not to. You’re the most loyal and capable man on this ship.”
    “Is that safe?” asked Benyawe. “A few hours ago, you had the crew ready to string him up.”
    “He’d be working with the officers,” said Lem. “They’re completely loyal to Chubs.”
    “I wouldn’t say completely,” said Chubs. “Not anymore.”
    Again, a twinge of guilt pecked at Lem’s conscience. He hadn’t ruined Chubs per se, but he had severely damaged him, no question. Whatever friendship might have once existed between them was gone now. Lem could see that. There would forever be an awkward formality between them now.
    “I’m sorry you felt the memorial service was a scene,” said Lem. “And if you’re choosing to refuse the captainship, you must understand that I cannot interfere with that decision in any way. I can’t tell you how to proceed. That would imply I orchestrated all this, which of course is not true. This must be your own decision. How and when you do it is entirely up to you.”
    It was unlikely that Chubs was recording their conversation in an effort to catch Lem in some confession, but it was better to be safe than sorry. They could never have any words between them that implied Lem had forced Chubs’s hand.
    Chubs nodded. He understood. Then he excused himself.
    When he was gone Benyawe said, “When we return to Luna, I hope we hold another memorial service. One with a little more heart. The dead deserve that.”
    She launched off the floor and left without another word.
    The holo from Chubs came a half hour later, sent out to all members of the crew. In it, he thanked Lem for