The crew exchanged glances.
"That's why we've been following the Formics at a safe distance," Lem continued. "That's why people have died. Because my father values me more than them, and thus prevents Chubs from helping them. That is why I am ashamed."
Here was the critical moment, he knew, the moment where he could let his own emotion show. Not as tears, of course--he couldn't look weak here. It would be much more powerful to give the appearance of approaching tears and then be strong and stoic enough to push them back. It wasn't easy. A lot of actors thought you had to go big, weeping and wailing and breaking a plate or two, but Lem knew better. It was the contained emotion that moved people. The grief and sadness that was threatening to rise up out of you, but dammit you weren't going to let it; you were going to be strong.
He pulled it off flawlessly, staying silent for slightly longer than normal so that they knew he was struggling to keep his emotions at bay. Then he cleared his throat, composed himself, and moved on. A few more near the front were crying.
"Were it up to me, we would be doing our duty to Earth," he said. "We would be doing more. We would be saving lives other than our own. But I am powerless. I see that now. With Chubs following his order from my father, I'm unable to do what I know is right. That is why, effective immediately, I am resigning my post as your captain."
Their faces said it all. Shock. Disbelief.
Lem couldn't have asked for a better reaction.
"You'll forgive me," he said, "but I can't continue to be the reason why we turn our backs on people. Should he accept the assignment, Chubs will serve as your captain. If he must adhere to my father's order, if he must put obedience to that rule above all concerns, then he must bear the shame of it. I hope he forgives me for giving him that burden, but I can't live with myself knowing that people are dying because he is protecting me."
Lem kicked off from the platform, floated over to Chubs, and offered his hand. Chubs saw that everyone was watching, some resentfully.
Chubs wisely took the offered hand and shook it, uneasy.
"You may not have allowed us to prevent those deaths," said Lem, "but you were doing what you thought was right. I commend you for that. I only pray God forgives us all."
Chubs didn't say a word. What could he say?
Lem launched across the room, climbed into the push tube, adjusted the polarity of his vambraces and shins, and said, "Fourteen."
The tube whooshed him away. When he reached his quarters, he moved straight to his holodesk. "Show me the helm."
Six video feeds appeared in the air above his desk, all taken from tiny cameras Lem had placed throughout the helm. He didn't have audio, but he didn't need it. He saw how some of the crew looked askance at Chubs with pure contempt.
Lem relaxed. All he had to do now was wait.
*
He didn't have to wait too long. Benyawe came to his quarters a few hours later. "That was quite a performance," she said. Lem was in his hammock, zipped to his waist, a box of chocolates floating in front of him. "Is that your reward to yourself?" she asked, gesturing to the chocolates.
"Nina. One of the cooks makes them for me. She brought me a box a little while ago."
"No doubt to comfort you as you deal with your shame." She forced a smile.
"They're quite good," said Lem, ignoring the jibe. "You should try one." Without waiting for her to answer he removed one from the box and pushed it through the air to her. It floated into her outstretched hand, and she popped it into her mouth and chewed.
"Little heavy for my taste," said Benyawe.
"The chocolate or my performance?"
"Both. When you almost cried, I thought that a bit much. Very convincing, mind you. But a bit much."
"Everything I said was true."
"Nearly everything," said Benyawe. "You said those people died because of us, that we would have warned them if not for Chubs. That's not true. Most of them we wouldn't have reached before the Formics did. In fact, in nearly every case, there's nothing we could have done. Had we not fled the Formic ship and come out this far, we likely would have died from the Formics venting their gamma plasma. Chubs was keeping us alive. And yet you practically tied him to the stake and set the thing aflame. That wasn't very sporting. He has been nothing but dutiful to you."
"Dutiful to my father, you mean."
"He saved your life, Lem," said Benyawe.
That was true enough, thought Lem. During the attack on the Formic ship, Chubs had acted swiftly and saved Lem from a charging Formic who seemed bent on ripping him limb from limb.
"When this is all over," said Lem, "I will see to it that my father rewards Chubs for his service."