Behind them, Lian heard Trish mutter something. It was probably best he couldn’t make out her words. She thought he was an idiot for the way he cared for the ship. She appreciated its usefulness, but didn’t see anything beyond that.
“Let’s go.” Lian led the way to the dry dock.
The harbor was busy, full of people, livestock, supplies, and equipment. The ship to the left of the Bethany was a colony vessel. Its lackluster appearance set it apart from the Valor ships that filled up most of the spaces. Colony ships were all functionality and no style. Simple cubes, with the bottom decks for the animals and the top decks for the human passengers. Oxen, cows, and even some pigs were being led up its tilted gangplank.
Lian turned his gaze back to the Bethany. Her silvery hull reflected the sun’s light. He wanted to quicken his pace, but refrained. Instead, he glanced to the side and gauged Temina’s reaction.
The mechanic stared at the ship with his lips slightly parted. His gray eyes sparkled. Lian had to fight a grin. He didn’t want to give off the air of a giddy child—which was exactly what Temina looked like right now.
They finally reached the ship. A long, sloped ramp descended from her belly, allowing them up to the boarding level. Temina hesitated only a second before stepping onto the gangplank. Lian had to admire that determination. He was obviously scared, but he still pressed on.
The top of the ramp opened to the outer edge of the ship. It was a long corridor that ran the whole way around the circumference of the Bethany. Once on even ground, Lian stopped and gestured to the hallway.
“Welcome to the Bethany.”
Temina turned to the closest wall and said, “Nice to meet you.”
A snort escaped Lian’s mouth before he could subdue it. Temina turned to him and grinned sheepishly.
Trish groaned as she walked by, not amused by him or Temina. After saying, “See you later, Temina,” she headed deeper into the ship.
“Bye, Commander. And thanks.” Then Temina turned to Lian. “Can I see the engine now?”
“Not quite. Let me explain about this room first. This is the second level of the ship. We call it Base. The engine room is at its center, and extends one floor below.” Temina looked ready to run through the wall, so Lian added, “But it’s only accessible from the stairwell—which I’ll show you later. Escape pods line the outside wall.” He pointed to the left where a red button denoted the entrance to one pod.
Temina started to head that way, his fingers on his hair tie, but Lian caught his elbow. The man was like a Patagon, chasing after anything that caught his interest. Hopefully he’d calm down once he got used to the surroundings. “Let’s get you to your bunk, and then you’ll get a tour of the ship.”
“Sure, Captain.” He sounded crestfallen. Well, he’d have to deal with it.
Lian walked counterclockwise down the curved corridor to the first elevator and pressed the button. “We have three elevators. Since the Bethany is circular, we refer to the elevators by their degrees. We entered at zero, so this is ninety.”
Temina nodded.
The door opened and they both climbed inside. Lian pushed the button labeled Bunks and the elevator shot upward. The upper floors of the Bethany gradually decreased in size as the ship became more rounded. This caused the elevator’s path to curve as it climbed. Not everyone noticed the slight change in motion, but Temina clamped a hand to the rail to steady himself.
They reached the floor and the doors opened with a ding. Lian stepped out. Temina followed, but gazed back at the elevator.
“That was weird.”
“You’ll get used to it. This level is Bunks. As you’ve probably guessed, this is where the sleeping quarters are.” Lian pointed down the hallway. “That’s the 270 elevator. Halfway down this corridor, there’s an intersection that leads to the 180.”
Lian shifted his hand to gesture at the closest door. “But your room is here, with the other mechanics.”
He pushed the button and the door slid upward. As hoped, Angie was sitting on her bed, her click in her hands. When she looked up and saw him, she jumped to her feet.
“Captain,” she said formally, saluting with her right hand over her heart.
“Hi, Angie. I’m glad you’re here. This is Temina Oshwald, our new Class Three Mechanic. I was hoping you could show him the ship.”
Angie peered curiously at Temina, but nodded. “Of course, Captain. When is our departure?”
“Another hour or so. You should have time for a tour. Then take him down to the engines. Don’t let his age fool you. He’s a genius with machines.”
Temina’s cheeks took on a pinkish hue. “Thanks for saying so, Captain.” Then he set his bag down and walked forward. He shook Angie’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Angie looked baffled by his personable demeanor—saluting was the common greeting on the ship—but she recovered quickly. “I’m Angela Rink, sir. It’s nice to meet you.”
Lian said, “I’m heading to the bridge. Temina, don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
Temina tilted his head. “Call you? How?”
Angie chuckled before Lian’s frown silenced her.
“Angie will explain. Your uniforms should be in your bunk drawer.”
“Thanks, Captain,” Temina said, grinning widely. “I’m very happy for this opportunity.”
Lian nodded and left.
The man was a genius; the reports said so. Brilliant people often had odd quirks. Like Temina’s constant need to touch his hair band, or his quickly wavering attention. Plus, he’d grown up in near isolation, far from civilized cities and people. They’d have to get used to his country ways. Or break him of his old habits.
Reports didn’t lie. All of Temina’s accomplishments were backed up with facts. Lian had faith in those reports. As hard as it was to believe, Temina was the real thing.
He hit the metal insignia at the cuff of his sleeve. “Trish.”
“Go ahead, Captain.”
“I’m heading to the bridge. Meet me there.”
“On my way.”
He pushed his worry over Temina out of his mind. There were a million other things that required his attention before they could begin this mission.
Chapter 6
GIN RUMMAGED through the drawers under his bed. The room, with five beds, was cramped, and the little space they had couldn’t be used for storage. Hence the drawers underneath. It made sense. One drawer contained five gray uniforms, like the ones he’d seen at Regulation headquarters. Like what the captain and commander wore. Like Angela was wearing. The only difference being the circular patch with a balance scale fastened to Angela’s sleeve, and the stripes of rank on the officers’ lapels.
“We have to dress in these?” Gin asked, lifting one of the garments from the drawer. They looked stiff and uncomfortable.
“Yes, sir. It’s the standard Order of Right uniform.”
Gin wrinkled his nose. “You can call me Temina.” Luckily, he’d remembered to give Temmy’s name. It would be so easy for him to slip up with all these lies. He’d have to be very, very careful. “None of that ‘sir’ stuff.”
She nodded.
“I guess I better change.”
“Sure. I’ll wait.”
Gin barely hesitated, knowing he’d be sharing a room with her, and possibly more women. Nothing to do but accept it. He turned his back to her and pulled off his shirt. Soot from the fire still stained its front. Hopefully that would come out in the wash.
“Dirty laundry goes in the chute,” Angela said helpfully.
He glanced over his shoulder and looked to where she indicated. There was a small tube that disappeared into the wall.
“Someone does our laundry?” He tossed the shirt onto the bed.
“You’ll be busy with the engines. You won’t have time to do your own.”
“Really? What about washing dishes?”
She snorted. “Not unless you piss off the captain. The lower-class c
rew members are assigned the chores. Not us.”
Gin grinned as he pulled on a clean white undershirt. It smelled of the same detergent they used at home. The familiar scent sent a sharp pang to his heart. He missed Temmy already. At least six months apart. Maybe longer. How was he going to make it alone? His smile slipped.
He put on the uniform jacket, its sleeves a tad too long. He was right; it was stiff. He buttoned it up and pulled at the lower hem, trying to get it to fit more comfortably. It didn’t work.
“You’ll get used to it,” Angela said.
He nodded. There were apparently many things he’d have to get used to.
Gin kicked off his boots. Then he unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. He put them beside his soiled shirt. The new pants were just as unyielding as the jacket. No wonder Captain Hartford looked like he wanted to chew on nails. This fabric riding up your butt all day would make anyone irritable.
They fit well, at least. Not too snug. He slid his feet back into his boots, then turned to face Angela.
“Not bad,” she said. Then she reached out and gripped his wrist. “The Call button is here.”
Along the cuff of the jacket was a small, metal insignia. It looked like a bowl, but he realized it was the silhouette of the Bethany.
“Tap it and say the name of the person you want to call. Very simple.”
His fingers itched to press the button and call someone, to test it. He touched the rubber band holding back his hair, then went for the insignia. But before he could tap it, Angela grabbed his wrist again.
“You don’t need to play with it now. Besides, who would you call?”
She was right, of course. But so far, he’d been denied from touching anything aboard the Bethany. What was the point of being on a spaceliner if he couldn’t even use the gadgets? Trying not to appear petulant, he gathered his discarded clothes and put them down the laundry chute. “Shall we go?”
She nodded, then hit the button that opened the door. Gin followed her out into the corridor.
“What all did the captain show you?”
“Nothing.”
“Then we’ll start here. This is the sixth floor. The only one above us is the officers’ quarters. The captain, commander, and lieutenant have rooms up there. Also, the more important crew members, like Doc.”
She walked down the hallway, toward the 270 elevator. “We have about a hundred crew members. Ten work under you, in the engine room. The captain has about a dozen on the bridge with him. We have a small squad of trained Valor soldiers, in case things go bad. Plus, administrative underlings that tend our supplies, a group of chaplains, and officers in training. They all bunk on this level.
“We’re lucky,” she continued. “We’ve only got five in our room. Actually, it used to be four, since Malc stayed with Candi in her room upstairs.”
“Malc? Who’s Malc?”
She stopped walking and regarded him. “Malc passed away halfway through our last mission. Didn’t you wonder why the ship needed a new mechanic?”
“Of course I didn’t. I assumed he’d retired or something. Not something morbid like a death.”
She nodded and her eyes got faraway. “It was an accident. Oxygen failure in the lieutenant’s quarters. He died of carbon dioxide poisoning while he slept.”
Gin’s stomach sank. Did that mean his position was cursed? That the ghost of the dead man was going to haunt him for taking this job? Were there even ghosts in space?
Angela started walking again. “Anyway. This hallway can get very busy during shift change.”
“Shift change?”
She didn’t stop this time, but she did shoot him a weird look. “So, you really don’t know anything?”
Gin opened his mouth to argue, but she waved a hand.
“It’s all right. I’ve been through that stage too, though it was twenty years ago. The ship has three eight-hour shifts. We stick to an Earth time frame, and twenty-four-hour days. Typically, you work a shift, then have a shift off. Work a shift, have a shift off. You see? The engine room needs to be constantly occupied. The engines are the heart of making the Bethany run, so careful observation is required throughout the trip.”
“Makes sense.”
Angela turned right at the intersection and led the way to the 180 elevator. “For you, though, since you’re Class Three, you’re on call constantly. If there’s any sort of alarm, you need to be there. But it also gives you more freedom when there’s not an emergency. You don’t technically need to fill a shift. There’ll be two Class Two and three Class One personnel down there at all times.”
They got to the elevator and climbed inside. Angela hit a button labeled Stop, and the elevator descended.
“The captain had me sign some paperwork at Regulation that went into detail about my duties. I’m also in charge of making the shift rosters. But how can I decide who should work on which shift when I don’t even know you?”
“I think we’ll naturally fall back into our old shift schedule. As we continue, if you see issues, you’re free to change things. We’re a pretty low-drama group. The tantrums come from the officers and their underlings.”
When the elevator doors opened, Angela stepped out and walked a little way down the hall. “The top four levels have this same layout. Like a T, with access to the three elevators. This is called Stop. There’s bathrooms, showers.” She gestured to the sides of the wall. There were three doors on each side. “There’s ten shower stalls in each room, plus toilets. And sick bay is at the end.” She pointed straight ahead. “You’ll probably have to check in with Doc before long. But since Captain didn’t mention it, we’ll skip it for now.”
Gin nodded. He wasn’t a fan of doctors. Even the kindly Dr. Lisst back home. A space doctor would have to be scarier.
Angela went back to the elevator. “Let’s see the next one.”
Gin followed her inside. The lower button said Common next to it. “It’ll be the com room and the mess hall?”
“Exactly,” she answered. The doors slipped open and she walked outside. People filled the corridor. Most were heading away from them, toward a large double-door room at the end of the hall. Some were just leaning against the wall, talking and smiling. It was nice to finally see some people. Angela had said the crew was a hundred, but he’d only seen three so far.
Relaxing just a bit, Gin looked over the many faces. They were every shade—some as pale as him, others as dark as Commander Williams. Others were obviously aliens. He barely kept the surprise off his face when they approached an Empatai. Gin had seen pictures in old schoolbooks, but never in person. He remembered little about their culture. The only fact that surfaced was they didn’t identify as any gender. And that they possessed four arms. That bit was hard to ignore as the Empatai had both sets crossed against their chest.
The Empatai nodded their long, green head to Angela and she waved in return.
“Hi, Spar,” she said. “How was port?”
“Exciting,” Spar answered, their voice serpentine and low. “The water along the coast was lovely to see.”
Angela gestured to Gin. “Spar, this is Temina, our new Class Three Mechanic.”
Spar lifted their top right hand and placed it over their heart in a salute. “Sir.”
Fighting down a blush, Gin mimicked the gesture. “Nice to meet you, Spar. You can call me Temina.”
The Empatai nodded again.
Angela said, “Spar is a recent recruit—a navigation trainee on the bridge.”
“I need to log three more missions before I am able to take my introductory exam. So far, this ship and crew have been acceptable. I hope Captain Lian will keep me on for the next mission.”
“I’m sure he will,” Angela answered heartily. “We better go. I’m giving Temina a tour of the ship before departure.”
“See you later,” Spar said, with a very human wave.
Directly behind Spar was a door, and Angela pointed to it. “This is the gym. We do have ar
tificial gravity, which helps, but it doesn’t keep muscles from deteriorating. Doc requires thirty minutes of cardio every other day. I’m sure she’ll tell you about it when you go to see her later.”
Across the hall was another door, this one opening and closing repeatedly as crewmembers came and went.
“This is the com room. There’re several stations, and all have click uplinks—if you brought yours along. There’re also media devices so you can watch holos, listen to music, or even read books. There are a few paperback books, too, though most are texts we read at the academy, so no one bothers to take them.”
They kept walking, though Gin did peek through the doorway as it was pushed back. It looked overly crowded now, with a line behind each of the com stations. It was too soon to call Temmy. He’d have to wait until he was out of the atmosphere before he’d risk it.
At the end of the hall, where the intersection met at a T, Angela gestured to three sets of double doors along the far wall.
“These all lead to the mess hall. The food processor works all day, every day, so take your meals when you want.”
When Gin nodded, she pursed her lips.
“You do know how to use a food processor, right?”
“Of course I do.”
Angela shrugged. “There’s plenty of other things you were unaware of, so I thought I’d double-check.”
“Can we see the engine yet?”
“Engines,” Angela corrected. “Yeah. The engine room is only accessible from the stairwells.”
“The captain mentioned that too. It seems a faulty design.”
“It’s another layer of protection, should someone unauthorized gain entry. It’s less likely an invading force can harm them.”
“Maybe,” Gin allowed. “But it can still lead to complications.”
Angela started off again, this time toward the 270 elevator. “Not really. You can get to the stairwells on any level. It hasn’t been an issue as long as I’ve been on the Bethany.”
“How long have you been on the Bethany?”
She smiled and dimples formed on her cheeks. “I’m part of the inaugural crew. Six years she’s been in commission.”
Spark in the Stars Page 4