Linesman Read Online Free Page B

sixth line. Ean hummed a countermelody under his breath, trying to coax the line straight, but it was no use. Humming didn’t work. He had to sing it.
    The orderly was waiting when he came out, the freshly woven clothes in a neat pile in front of her. Standard issue included underclothes and shoes, Ean was glad to see. She handed him an outfit.
    â€œThank you. You don’t have to wait on me.”
    â€œOf course not, sir. But there’s still the medic.” She pointed to a uniform placed apart. “That’s the dress uniform. You’ll be wearing that tonight if you’re dining with Lady Lyan and Commodore Galenos.”
    Commodore Galenos being the casually introduced Abram,Ean presumed. “Thank you,” and he smiled his appreciation. “I know nothing about uniforms, ranks, and what to wear.”
    The orderly smiled back. “I didn’t think you did, sir.”
    Ean was sure she didn’t mean it as an insult.
    â€œThe medic’s expecting you. To look at your voice and to check you over. He’s already called to see where you are.”
    â€œLet me put these on first.” Ean took the clothes into the bedroom. He had a separate bedroom, which he was sure wasn’t standard military practice. He dressed quickly. His uniform was gray with the characteristic black piping. The only decoration was a tiny cloth badge woven into the pocket on his left chest and the name— LAMBERT —above it. Ean didn’t count the bars on the badge, but he knew there would be ten. It was a total contrast to the pocket of his companion, which was covered with badges.
    He came out, and the orderly left at a fast walk. Ean followed. “Radko. That is your name?”
    The orderly glanced back. “Yes, sir,” she said.
    Ean wished she wouldn’t keep calling him sir. “Thank you for all this, Radko.”
    â€œJust doing my job, sir.” But she smiled and somehow the atmosphere seemed lighter as they made their way through the corridors to a well-equipped hospital. It was worrying that a ship this size needed a hospital so equipped. What was this ship?
    The medic was waiting for him. “At least you’ve cleaned up some,” he said, as he made Ean strip his freshly donned clothes and lie down under the analyzer. “I hear you stank when you came on board.” He held up a hand to stop any comment—not that Ean had been going to make one. “Nothing travels faster than shipboard gossip. Not even a ship passing through the void.”
    â€œEven on a military ship like this?”
    â€œEspecially on a military ship like this.” Which confirmed, once and for all, what type of ship he was on. Ean wished he’d taken more notice of politics suddenly. He didn’t want to end up in the middle of a battle.
    â€œWhat happened with the voice?” the medic asked.
    â€œMy own fault. Too much—” It sounded so lame. “I was singing.” He wondered how the other ship was going. It hadprobably moved on by now. Ships didn’t stay in port any longer than they had to.
    â€œHmm. Let me see you breathe.”
    For the next ten minutes, he peered into Ean’s throat, X-rayed it, and finally gave him a drink of something warm. It soothed as it went down.
    â€œThe miracles of modern medicine,” the medic said. “We can tailor your genes so that your voice is deep or high, but we still can’t fix a strained larynx. Although”—he paused— “if it’s truly damaged I can replace it with a synthetic one.”
    Ean shuddered.
    â€œI thought not. If you continue to sing like that, maybe you should take some lessons on breathing and voice control. Have you been trained?”
    Ean shook his head. Rigel had paid for lessons on how to speak with a faultless Standard accent, but there hadn’t been any voice training with it.
    â€œSo you won’t use your voice so badly that you strain