Dave took a look, checked figures. “Sounds good to me.”
And the conveyors whisked pallet S43 away to be locked in its location.
After the crew finished with the loads, Wen took it on himself to grab a manifest reader. He climbed onto the gantries, and began a physical check of each pallet that had undergone an unlock or lock during the shift. As he went over each lock, he entered a tick beside the pallet number. It took an hour, but he got a feeling of satisfaction after the last check. None of these pallets would shift under acceleration.
“All done?” Dave asked.
“All done. All secure; no faults found.”
“Perfect. Let’s go for supper.”
Wen walked with him halfway to the exit, and then stopped.
“What is it?”
“I forgot. I promised to teach Sean how to play marbles. I’ll just go grab a few.”
Dave laughed. “You do that; I’ll go eat. I’ve seen your work; I can trust you to get your pallet, and to put it away correctly.”
With no one else in the hold, Wen called his pallet down. He opened one of the boxes of marbles, and removed fifty of them, which he put in a bag to take with him. Then he repacked the pallet in the way that the Cargo Program suggested that would satisfy his needs. To do so, he emptied each of the twenty-five containers into the special ones that he needed. Then he fastened them down to the pallet such that he could access each container without unlashing it from the pallet itself.
Slipping into the office, he went to Dave’s console, sent the pallet back to its berth. Then, crossing his fingers, he brought it down again, this time sending it out to the loading dock. There, he released the covers, one box at a time.
As a check, he physically examined each container to ensure the tops would open. Satisfied, he ran the rods holding the covers in place back through the eyes.
Finally done, Wen breathed a sigh, and returned the pallet to its place in the hold. He walked up to it once again, and ensured that it would not come loose. With a feeling of satisfaction, he picked up the bag of marbles, and left the hold.
Most of the crew had finished with their meals by he time he reached the cafeteria. He saw Sean eating dessert with his Uncle William, took his tray, and joined them.
“What’s that?” Sean asked as he plopped the bag down on the table to the distinctive ring that brought up bad memories from the past.
“Present for you, Cargo Master. In your off-time – yes, I know, Uncle William doesn’t allow you much off-time – practice. In a few days we’ll see who’s the marble champion of Venture.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. He shovelled the last of the pie into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. Then he stood. “Can I go, Uncle William?”
William laughed, and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Go.”
Sean picked up the bag of marbles, and ran off.
“Walk!” William called after him. Then he turned to Wen. “Sit.”
Wen sat, and began to eat.
“That was very nice of you. Made his day. Never had children? You’ve never talked about it, but you deal with them very well.”
“Never had them; never wanted them.” Wen didn’t really want to talk about that, either. Lil had mentioned thinking about it a few times, but hadn’t pressed him, and he had put her off. Perhaps if he had given in to her wish, she would have been on Earth when the pirates ambushed 684. One more sin to lay at his feet.
CHAPTER 22
Wednesday 11 August
Angela Fulton walked up to the hatch of Scout-1, her new acquaintance in tow. She looked at its sleek lines, wondered how the Families could afford to carry something this big around with them wherever they went. Though not as big as a lifeboat, it took up space, and hardly ever got used.
However, the ship’s info had made it clear. Scout-1 had hyperspace capabilities, where shuttles and workboats didn’t. Should some disaster happen to Venture – someplace where she couldn’t contact anyone for help, Scout-1 could go for aid. Angela knew why the crew didn’t object to its presence at all, even if it seemed dead weight.
“Ah, Ladies, you’ve arrived,” came Ken Ritter’s voice from the other side of the hatch. “Come in, come in. Let me show you around the ship.”
Carol White gripped Angela’s hand. Angela could feel the trembling, and knew it came from excitement not fear. She turned to look, and saw their passenger’s eyes shining with excitement. Although Carol had a number of years on her, Angela felt the older of the two at the moment. She, after all, had experienced jump and drop many times. She could count herself a veteran of hyperspace.
“Shall we?” Carol asked.
“Absolutely.”
She led the way in, and Ken showed them to the small galley/crew room.
“We eat here – mostly pre-packed meals. However, for this trip, we’re bringing some fresh foods as well. As you can see, it has a small table, only. We can fit four about it, so after we pick up our passengers from Io Station, we’ll have to eat in shifts. Here’s the disposal slot – gets emptied when we return to Venture.
“Each of these chairs,” he pointed to the high-backed acceleration chairs that surrounded the table, “has a double function. One, and most obvious, they are dinner table chairs. And, pretty much equally obviously, they are acceleration chairs. We double up on their usage, as we actually have pretty tight quarters.”
He pointed out the cool-box, the oven, and the other accoutrements. “All nice and handy. Now, Ladies, on to the sleeping quarters.” He winked at them, and Angela saw something in Carol’s expression that led her to believe that the woman wanted more ‘firsts’ on this trip than just Saturn, Jupiter, and hyperspace. And, from what she had heard, Carol would find Ken Ritter very amenable to just that.
“Scout-1 can sleep eight.” He led them to a corridor that ran down the middle of the craft. He touched the panel on the door to the starboard room, which slid open. Two sets of bunk beds lay open, one set against the bulkhead, the other against the light curve of the hull. Ritter walked up to the latter, and engaged a lever. He closed the top bed, then the lower one. “That gives you more room until Io Station, if you want it. There’s a second, identical room, just across from this one. Ladies choice.”
Carol looked at the beds, then back at Ritter.
“Which would you suggest?”
Ritter grinned. “I would suggest that we double up – but I don’t think that’s in the cards. It makes no difference which you pick.”
Carol looked at Angela, who held her hands palms up. She didn’t care one way or the other.
“What’s the other one look like?” Carol asked.
“Right.” Ritter opened the door across the corridor to show them the second, identical room. “See. No difference.”
“This’ll do fine,” Carol said, “seeing as we’re in here now.”
“Okay. Your room, Ladies,” he said, then he poked his head back out into the corridor. He called out, “Down here.”
Moments later, a handsome young man appeared with their luggage. He smiled at them, and set the bags down.
“You can stow them in there,” he said, pointing to narrow lockers at the back of the room. “You have an hour to get used to the place, then we’re off.”
“This is Rolf Yrden,” Angela introduced him. “Rolf, Carol White.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the two said in unison.
“Another Yrden?” Carol said. “And what do you do on Venture?”
“Pilot, Ma’am,” he answered. “And I’ll act as co-pilot on this trip.”
“Ah,” she said. “Well, if we only have an hour, I guess we should get unpacked and ready.”
Ritter had already disappeared. Rolf nodded. “Don’t leave anything out. We’ll be doing a rather aggressive burn – so you might come back to find your stuff all in the back corner. Come up to the flight deck when you’re ready. Ken and I will be going through the final checklists.”
“He’s cute, too,” Carol sai
d the moment the door closed.
Angela felt a little flip of her stomach. Surely the woman didn’t want both pilots? And Rolf? Such a nice man. Almost as nice as Wen. Pity Wen couldn’t make the trip. She had asked him, and then immediately regretted it. His expression had turned hard. “They won’t want me on any flight deck or bridge of a vessel with hyperspace capability,” he had said. And, it appeared he had made no mistake.
Why had her mind brought that up?
“How old is he?”
“What? Who?”
“Rolf.”
“Um, I think he’s mid-twenties.”
Carol pursed her lips. “More your age, I think. I prefer them older.” Then she nudged Angela with her elbow. “If we want to do anything, I think it should be before we get to Io Station, don’t you? After Io, too many people on board. No privacy.”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“We could do the old sock on the doorknob routine,” Carol suggested. “Except these doors don’t have doorknobs.”
Angela almost choked. Her charge certainly didn’t lack for directness. She raised her hands, palms up, fingers spread wide, trying to think of something to say in reply to that.
Carol just laughed, then sobered. “I’m not like this usually. But this vacation, this wonderful opportunity ... I’ll never have it again, and I want to experience everything.”
She finished putting her possessions in her locker, and then moved aside so Angela might do the same.
“So, tell me, is Mr Ritter married?”
Dear God! She didn’t really want to participate in this. If Carol wanted to go wild – fine. Just don’t involve her. She said nothing, but put her clothes in the locker, dropped the bag to the bottom of it, and closed the door. But when she turned to face the older woman, she caught the expression on Carol’s face that she had often seen in the mirror.
The woman wasn’t as sure of herself as she wished to appear. She looked almost frightened – no, not frightened, but something. Tentative? And, within, Angela suddenly relaxed. She smiled at Carol.
“No, not married. He thinks of himself as a lady’s man, I’ve heard. A lot of the crew have stories about him. If even a quarter of them have any truth to them, I doubt very much that he’d turn down an advance.” She chuckled. “Personally, I don’t doubt that he’ll make the first move.”
In fact, Pilot Ken Ritter had felt her out subtly when he took her out on the workboat. However, when she made no move to answer his somewhat discreet probes, had, in fact, ignored them, he didn’t push it at all. Had she shown the least bit of receptiveness, Angela believed that he would have engaged her more fully.
Instead, he had acted completely professionally and, after that first attempt, Angela had relaxed and enjoyed the outing thoroughly, especially when Ritter had allowed her to do some minor manoeuvring, just to get the feel of it.
“Ah, Ladies,” Ritter said, smiling as they came forward onto the flight deck. It contained two seats in front, one on either side of the cockpit – pilot’s and co-pilot’s – with two other seats behind and between them. They took the two in the back, which could swing to the sides to instruments there. “Pilot Yrden will man the comm station – and detectors. Angela? How would you like to make your first trip on a hyperspace-capable ship as co-pilot?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes,” she breathed out. “Yes, I would.” She took the co-pilot’s chair.
Shortly thereafter, Venture’s computer pushed them out into space. Ritter waited until they had a fair bit of distance between them and Venture before grinning.
“Shields up,” he said, pointing to a switch, the duplicate of which she found on her side. Angela obediently raised them. “Okay, Angela, let’s see you take us out.”
Her stomach flipped. But she jumped at the chance.
“Attitude thrusters,” he told her, pointing out the controls. He then told her the bearing he wanted.
It took her a couple of minutes, with several more course corrections than any trained pilot would need, before she had them on the bearing he asked for.
“Great. Now, gently, main thrusters. Build up to a one-half G acceleration.”
Feeling her stomach still jumping, she went perhaps a little more gently than necessary, but ended up at the suggested acceleration.
“Wonderful. Just hold it there. Don’t forget to watch the navigation tank to see what other traffic we have – and look out for meteors or debris.” He looked back to Carol. “Enjoying the ride so far?”
“Yes. It’s magnificent. I never would have believed it. The holos don’t do it justice.” She looked out the forward screen, almost transfixed. “It’s so romantic.”
Angela could see Ritter start at that word, but he just smiled. “Yes, a little romantic,” he agreed. “And who doesn’t need a little romance in their life from time to time.”
Carol turned her head from the screen, and met Ritter’s gaze. “Exactly,” she said.
Angela almost laughed at the mutual seduction that took place right in front of her. But Carol turned her eyes back to the stars, and Ritter went back to being the professional pilot.
Angela enjoyed the sight, too, but she kept checking the navigation tank, the controls, everything, which spoiled the view in a way, but her experience matched the other woman’s in every respect. A once-in-a-lifetime chance. Well, she hoped it wouldn’t be once in a lifetime, but prior to hiring on with Venture, she had had no expectations of anything like this.
Half an hour into the trip, Ritter told her to cut acceleration. By that time, she figured they were doing about 32,000 kilometers per hour with respect to Earth, heading away from the sun, en route to glory!
She chuckled to herself. Well, if not glory, then Saturn. Same thing in her book.
“Well,” Ritter said after another half hour had passed. “We’re out of everyone’s hair. Nothing doing for the next twenty hours until we jump. So, I’ll go off-shift. Pilot Yrden, the deck is yours. I’m going to get something to eat, and then some sleep. See you in four hours.”
It took a little moving around for Ritter to get out and Rolf to replace him in the pilot’s seat. Once there, he went over the take-over checklist with Angela, acting as an instructor for her benefit.
It didn’t take long before Carol stood. “I think I’m a little hungry myself,” she said.
Angela bit at her lip to keep from smiling.
“And if we have twenty hours to go, maybe I’ll catch a nap, too.”
When the cockpit door closed behind her, Rolf sighed. He looked at Angela as if he wanted to say something, but then decided against it.
“I know all about him,” Angela said. “And I don’t think he’s going to meet much resistance.”
Rolf laughed. “Lucky Ken. Anyway, he told me you want to become a pilot, so why don’t we go through some routines. We’ll change course a couple of times as if dodging incoming asteroids – just gentle turns. The farther out you see something coming, the less violent you need to manoeuvre to avoid it. And we want to avoid violent manoeuvres. We don’t want to toss someone out of bed in case they’ve forgotten to web in.”
She laughed with him.
Rolf set up a simulation which showed them travelling through asteroid infected space. She kept her eye on the navigation tank and, when the detectors found something, she had the tank plot its course. Naturally, some of the objects would intercept her Otherwise, why do the simulation at all? She would gently alter course a degree or two until the projected courses of the asteroid and the scoutship diverged enough to remove the slightest hint of danger. Then she would return the scoutship to its previous course.
The cockpit door opened.
“Slept like a babe,” Ritter said.
Angela looked at the chrono, and felt shock. Where had the four hours gone?
“I’ll take over, Rolf. Might as well do four on four off until we hit hyperspace. Angela, why don’t you take a break, too?”
“Thank you, Ken, I will.”
Angela stood, and went back to the galley to get something to eat. Carol, sitting at the table, greeted her with a great smile. “So far so good?”
Carol’s smile broadened. “So far, better than so good.”
And that told Angela everything she needed to know. Well, at least her report to Captain Betts – as a lot of the crew called her – would show that the passenger loved her trip. She wouldn’t, she decided, elaborate.
“I’m going to go sit up front with Ken. He promised to tell me some stories of what it’s like on other planets.”
Rolf walked in, stretched, and then sniffed at the aroma of one of the heated ready-meals. “I could use a bite. You, Angela?”
“Yes, thank you, Rolf.”
As he prepared the meal, Carol left for the flight deck.
“Ken’s going to tell her stories about the planets he has visited,” Angela said.
Rolf set the meals down on the table, and they ate in silence. After finishing, and placing the packaging in recycling, they just sat back and relaxed. Neither of them brought up the couple on the flight deck.
“So, Angela,” Rolf said, sipping at a juice pack. “What are your plans when you leave us next year?”
“The captain asked if I would hire on and stay with Venture and the Yrdens,” she replied. “I’d like that very much.”
Rolf looked at her. “So would I.”
He would? He had noticed her?
* * *
Thursday 12 August
Angela had never enjoyed herself more. She had spent almost twelve hours piloting Venture’s Scout-1. Well, to call it piloting might be a slight exaggeration. But she had played with the attitudinal thrusters to the point where she could easily correct the course. She had done simulations, had even cut the gravity at the suggestion of Pilot Ken Ritter so that she could get the feel of piloting in zero-g.
Ritter had just given up the pilot’s seat to Rolf Yrden when he made that suggestion. It took until Rolf started laughing after the door closed behind Ritter’s floating body that she made the connection, and began laughing, herself.
Not With A Whimper: Survivors Page 23