if for an inspection at Quarters, all within easy hearing distance. They murmured, the sound growing louder and louder, until the petty officers and boatswain shouted for quiet.
Easier to deal with than civilians , she thought. The town meeting ashore had been the next thing to a riot, and it had lasted most of the day. At least you could tell people in uniform to shut up and listen. She glanced over at Nantucket; they’d dropped anchor in the dredged channel that led to the steamer dock, there being no room to tie up with the big ferry at its moorings. For the moment she was just as glad not to be at quayside. The situation on board would be easier to handle if it could be kept isolated from the rest of the island for a little while.
This anchorage is going to be a bitch in rough weather, she thought, her mind distracted for a moment. Sheltered enough for ordinary storms, but in a really stiff norther . . . When full quiet had been restored, she went on:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re in an . . . unprecedented situation. There is no United States Coast Guard. There is no United States. We’re marooned, adrift in time.”
She pointed. “A little more than seven thousand of us altogether, and the rest of the planet in a state of savagery. However, we still need discipline and organization. Accordingly, anyone who wants to take his or her chance ashore may do so now. Those who wish to remain with the ship will be under orders as before, and I’m placing the ship at the disposal of Chief Cofflin and the Council in Nantucket. There may be no United States, but these people are still Americans—and helping them is what we’re in this uniform for.”
“What about our families?” someone called.
Alston clamped her hands behind her back. “There’s nothing to be done about that. Everyone and everythin’ we knew is gone . People, either this . . . whatever it was will reverse itself, or it won’t,” she said. “If it does, everything is back to normal—except that y’all make your fortunes on the talk-show circuit.”
That brought a shaky laugh. She went on: “But we have to operate on the assumption that it won’t. Because if it doesn’t, and we sit down and wait for a return that doesn’t happen, we’re all going to die. If we work, we may pull through. As for our people ashore . . . they’ll have to assume we were lost, somehow. Nobody knows what happened back up in the . . . future.” It was still a little hard to say it. “At a guess, the year 1998 got the Nantucket that should be here, in which case they’ll have some inkling of what happened to us. Grief is natural, but we’ve no time to sit down and cry.”
Not if I have any say in the matter , she added mentally.
Keeping people too busy to think was an ancient military tradition, and for very good reason. She hadn’t asked to be stuck in this situation, but things weren’t going to fall apart if she had anything to do with it. The United States Coast Guard, or the Lord God Almighty, or fate, or whatever, had left them in her hands.
The uproar began as she finished speaking. It lasted far into the night, and ended with half a dozen cadets and a couple members of her crew sedated or under restraint.
“But nobody,” she said in the officers’ wardroom, “wants to jump ship.”
“I think it may have struck them that at least they get rations here,” Hiller said.
Like her, the sailing master didn’t have any ties ashore. Well, she had two children, but they’d gone with their father in the divorce and that was going on fifteen years ago. Wouldn’t have done any good to fight for custody, not in South Carolina with what John knew and threatened to reveal if she contested, and it would have wrecked her career when things came out. At least John had warned her first, not just blabbed to the wind.
Some of the other officers still looked as if they’d been hit behind the ear with a sandbag. Most of them did have people back when.
Easier to deal with than civilians , she thought. The town meeting ashore had been the next thing to a riot, and it had lasted most of the day. At least you could tell people in uniform to shut up and listen. She glanced over at Nantucket; they’d dropped anchor in the dredged channel that led to the steamer dock, there being no room to tie up with the big ferry at its moorings. For the moment she was just as glad not to be at quayside. The situation on board would be easier to handle if it could be kept isolated from the rest of the island for a little while.
This anchorage is going to be a bitch in rough weather, she thought, her mind distracted for a moment. Sheltered enough for ordinary storms, but in a really stiff norther . . . When full quiet had been restored, she went on:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re in an . . . unprecedented situation. There is no United States Coast Guard. There is no United States. We’re marooned, adrift in time.”
She pointed. “A little more than seven thousand of us altogether, and the rest of the planet in a state of savagery. However, we still need discipline and organization. Accordingly, anyone who wants to take his or her chance ashore may do so now. Those who wish to remain with the ship will be under orders as before, and I’m placing the ship at the disposal of Chief Cofflin and the Council in Nantucket. There may be no United States, but these people are still Americans—and helping them is what we’re in this uniform for.”
“What about our families?” someone called.
Alston clamped her hands behind her back. “There’s nothing to be done about that. Everyone and everythin’ we knew is gone . People, either this . . . whatever it was will reverse itself, or it won’t,” she said. “If it does, everything is back to normal—except that y’all make your fortunes on the talk-show circuit.”
That brought a shaky laugh. She went on: “But we have to operate on the assumption that it won’t. Because if it doesn’t, and we sit down and wait for a return that doesn’t happen, we’re all going to die. If we work, we may pull through. As for our people ashore . . . they’ll have to assume we were lost, somehow. Nobody knows what happened back up in the . . . future.” It was still a little hard to say it. “At a guess, the year 1998 got the Nantucket that should be here, in which case they’ll have some inkling of what happened to us. Grief is natural, but we’ve no time to sit down and cry.”
Not if I have any say in the matter , she added mentally.
Keeping people too busy to think was an ancient military tradition, and for very good reason. She hadn’t asked to be stuck in this situation, but things weren’t going to fall apart if she had anything to do with it. The United States Coast Guard, or the Lord God Almighty, or fate, or whatever, had left them in her hands.
The uproar began as she finished speaking. It lasted far into the night, and ended with half a dozen cadets and a couple members of her crew sedated or under restraint.
“But nobody,” she said in the officers’ wardroom, “wants to jump ship.”
“I think it may have struck them that at least they get rations here,” Hiller said.
Like her, the sailing master didn’t have any ties ashore. Well, she had two children, but they’d gone with their father in the divorce and that was going on fifteen years ago. Wouldn’t have done any good to fight for custody, not in South Carolina with what John knew and threatened to reveal if she contested, and it would have wrecked her career when things came out. At least John had warned her first, not just blabbed to the wind.
Some of the other officers still looked as if they’d been hit behind the ear with a sandbag. Most of them did have people back when.
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