Sweet Reason Read Free Page A

money wasn’t everything The regular navy had glamour and status. (During the Ebersole ’s last few weeks in Norfolk, Lustig had taken to wearing his dress blues, with their tarnished gold lieutenant junior grade stripes, on dates instead of civilian clothes.) The ticket to a successful career in the navy, as far as Lustig was concerned, was to offend as few people as possible. Which was why he turned a noncommittal face to the world and kept his quips, including the few he could think of in time to get them into a conversation, locked up in afterthoughts.
    Switching on his flashlight with the red filter, Lustig glanced at his wristwatch. “Half-hour to reveille. Shit, the minutes really drag. What else’s on the plan of the day?”
    “The usual note from our erstwhile executive officer about taking coffee cups off the mess deck. He’s escalating. This one says quote personnel failing to comply with the above and who are caught will be held accountable unquote. Then he has a parenthetical note quote this means turned over to the supply officer for two hours’ extra duty unquote. Did you ever notice how every other sentence out of theXO’s mouth is enclosed in parens. With him, parens are almost a life-style.”
    Lustig didn’t have the slightest idea what Joyce was talking about, but he nodded agreeably. “Any other goodies on the plan of the day?” he asked.
    “The second-class exam is scheduled for next Wednesday. And here come the parens again. Note colon the careers officer will hold a career information seminar in the after wardroom for all interested hands at sixteen-thirty. Jesus H. Christ, I’m the Careers Officer, and I go on watch again at fifteen-forty-five. Doesn’t the XO read the watch bill before he schedules —”
    A burst of static came from the squawk box and the red light next to “CIC” winked on and off. Lustig flipped down the lever and yelled: “I can’t make out a word you say on this contraption. Use the voice tube.”
    An instant later a voice, metallic and surprisingly clear, came floating up the tube. “Mister Lustig, sir, I think we got land on radar bearing three one zero, range about thirty miles or so.”
    Lustig flicked his radar repeater over to a longer scale. On the next sweep the outline of a land mass — thousands of electronic pinpricks that brightened and then faded as the antenna swept past — appeared in the upper-left-hand corner of the scope.
    “I guess that’s the enemy,” Lustig said.
    The voice tube spoke again. “Mister Lustig, sir, you know the skunk we been tracking on a parallel course all night? Well, it’s changed course now.”
    “Changed course? In what direction?”
    “As a matter of fact, it seems to be heading straight for us.”

    Tevepaugh Wakes the Captain
    Tevepaugh took the steps two at a time and knocked softly at the Captain’s cabin, one deck below the bridge.
    “Enter.”
    Tevepaugh opened the door, stepped inside and spoke into the darkness. “The Officer of the Deck sends his respects, Captain, sir. He got the Commie coast on radar at thirty miles.”
    “Thirty miles, eh? What bearing?”
    “What bearing?” Tevepaugh repeated.
    “That is correct. On what bearing, which is to say in what direction, has the enemy coastline appeared at thirty miles?”
    “Mister Lustig didn’t tell me nothin’ ’bout bearing, Captain.”
    “Mister Lustig didn’t tell you, eh?”
    “No sir, Mister Lustig didn’t say no word ’bout bearing. He jus’ told me to tell you the Officer of the Deck sends his respects ’n’ says he got the Commie coast at thirty miles.”
    Captain Jones switched on his night reading lamp and propped himself up on an elbow. Directly over his head was a framed motto on the bulkhead that read: “Give me a fast ship for I intend to go in harm’s way.” Under the motto was the signature: “John Paul Jones.” “That’s all he said — the Commie coastline on radar at thirty miles?”
    “Also that there