Stepping Up

by Robert Culp

  I pass that good word on to the team as they prepare for decontamination. To myself I think Rest? And leave sleeping dogs lie? Perish the thought! I respond without considering alternatives. “Here I go, stepping outside of bounds again. It seems to me we’d be better off treating him as a guest, not a prisoner. We want his cooperation. But that’s not my bailiwick. Have there been any developments with Gwen?”

  “The Captain’s need-to-know policy is in effect. And you know how secretive he can be. You have done your part; celebrate that.”

  Gods above, has she any idea how frustrating the not knowing is? “Very well, MacTaggert out.”

  I’m still sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. I figure I can take the time to get a systems report before I strip down for decon. “Hi Gorb, I’m back aboard. Have there been any developments I need to know about?”

  “Hi, Shownya! Ginny is being nice to me! Everything is going fine.” I tell him I’ll be there—a quick glance at the chronometer on the wall—in the morning.

  Avi has all his gear collected and is standing in the doorway to the flight deck. I lose nothing by asking, “Join me for a shower and a nap after decon?”

  “A shower?” He looks at me incredulously.

  “More conditioner than soap. You, of all people, know how astringent that stuff is.”

  “Definitely. This second shower may include some…interesting developments.”

  “And probably the odd emission. I’ll do my best to contain them.”

  The decon goes without incident. I join Avi in scrubbing the visitor; between the two of us, we get him clean rather quickly. Avi and I then scrub each other. As it happens, our guest sleeps right through the decon procedure. Good drugs indeed. Avi and I go to my cabin and take a warm, relaxing shower. Without discussion, we fall into a deep, refreshing, comfortable slumber. Eventually.

  The team has two days downtime, but I’m a department head. My morning is filled with a routine walk-through of the engine rooms, conferences with the team leads, and review of the maintenance logs. My people are good to their word. I see nothing to complain about. In fact, it looks like they do their best work when I’m not around. That may be why I hardly ever saw Mack down here. I’ll take that as a good thing. I go to the LEO to post my reports. I attach an annex about the prototype armor and recommend we eventually make at least one set for each Trooper. I attach a materials list and projected cost. It’s a lot of money, but it will be well spent. I’m looking over the daily inspection reports when I get a message from Aria. Six hundred seventy five thousand credits have been added to my budget with the directive “Get busy.” I review my final materials list and forward it and my budget data to the purchasing officer. I hope she’s sitting down.

  Just prior to heading to lunch, the Captain calls me. “Sonia, I have mentally scanned the prisoner, and he is now your charge. You are authorized to put him to work in ‘slave’ status. You may interview him at your convenience in cell two of the detention area, but understand you will need to bring an interpreter unit. Notify the detention section when you wish to interview him.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get on it.” But before I can get up from my desk, I get a message from Aria. There’s a briefing in the conference room in two hours. Good thing I got some rest last night. Two days down my foot! Of course, to be fair, she did say “the team.” She said nothing about me. I acknowledge her message and start my ‘briefing packet’ script. It’s an automated routine that gathers all the information I am likely to need in a command brief and loads it to my notepad for easy reference. I’ve long since signed off on Ginny green lighting Transit, but she is still required by protocol to notify me when she does so. I’m going to have to go for fast food rather than a real meal.

  On the way back from the chow hall, I stop by the ship’s locker and get a blank perCom and a translation unit. It’s a pretty slick piece of hardware. It’s a box a bit larger than a pack of cigarettes. It comes with a lanyard so the unit can be worn around the neck. Typically, after a break-in educational period of the unknown language, whatever the unit “hears” is identified and a translation is relayed through the earpiece. There’s also an education kit with various items and pictures to establish baselines. Things like red and blue balls, cubes, pictures of men and women, things that should be established universal nouns.

  The briefing is pretty boilerplate. I do get formal instructions to take our guest under my wing. Apparently, he is a trained starship engineer. He gave the Captain coordinates of two planets, and Night Searcher is headed to the first, BaineRa’ah III, for another find-out-where-we-are mission.

  After the briefing, I head down to the detention block to talk to the new kid. I find the prisoner is in his cell. He stands when the guard opens the door. If nothing else, he’s well mannered. With a bit of sign language, the guard escorts him to an interview room, then puts the translator on the table between us, and stands back out of the way. His thumbs are hooked in his pistol belt. The “guest” looks at me curiously. I open the education pack and pull out the red ball. “Red ball,” I say. I pull out the blue ball, “Blue ball,” I hold up the red one and point at him.

  He tries to mimic me. “cHwed bahl.” I shake my head and try to make him understand to say it in his language. He does. I pick up the blue ball and point. He says something similar, but different. It takes us the better part of an hour, but we do get to where we can understand each other.

  “Now, let’s start your interview in earnest.” I tell him.

  “As you wish, ma’am. Your captain told me, apparently telepathically, that I will be a slave in your engine room. My name is Viggo Sardone. Please excuse my appearance. I lack more appropriate clothes.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Sardone. And I apologize for your confinement. My name is Sonia MacTaggert; I am the Chief Engineer aboard Night Searcher. I am happy to have your services and your expertise for as long as you are willing to provide them. I will have to do some coordinating I’m sure, but I’ll see what I can do about getting you some other clothing and more suitable quarters. But first, tell me about your skills and abilities. I understand you are a starship engineer?”

  “Miss MacTaggert, Chief MacTaggert, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I did not know this ship carried so many beautiful women. If you scan my left forearm, an embedded chip will give you my full military dossier. I have been a soldier since age fifteen; I am now thirty-four. I know hydrogen power plants and various drive systems.”

  “I believe you’ll find many surprises aboard Night Searcher. And it’s ‘Sonia’ please. Or ‘Chief,’ if that’s a little too familiar for you. May I call you ‘Viggo?’ I’m sure by now, you’ve been scanned six ways from Arioch’s nose. And then we’d have to worry about translation. And while this unit allows us to understand your spoken language, reading it is a different matter. So, oral communication is more efficient. I’ll check the intelligence database later. But first, please let me make something clear: I do not employ slaves. The Captain would not have assigned you to me unless he felt you could be at least minimally trusted. But I’ll not have an indentured servant in my department. Do you want to work in my engine room? I desperately need another pair of hands with an informed brain attached to them. I do not believe in Hobson’s choice. So should you so desire, I will do what I can to allow you off the ship when we get to our destination. Before you answer, know that our security forces will shadow you for an unspecified period of time. I’ll also ask you to keep this,” I lay the perCom on the table, “with you at all times. Until you have some mastery of the language, your translator,” I hold it up, “will link up to it. Not because you’re on house arrest, but because, if I need to get in touch with you, I need to do so without a significant delay. I can promise you a paycheck and fair treatment. Your move.”

  His eyes fill with tears. He briefly loses his composure, and then comes back to the seated variant of ‘Attention.’ “I accept, thank you, Chief. I appreciate your help and your tr
ust. You will not be disappointed.”

  “I hope not.” There is a knock on the door. One of the supply runners has two sets of coveralls and an APE suit for Viggo. “I believe those are for you; I’ll leave you to try them on. I’ll make arrangements for some more relaxed items as well. I’ll see what I can do about getting you out of detention and into the barracks, if nothing else. Be patient. I’ll see you in the engine room.”

  I ask the guard, “You’ll help him with the APE suit?”

  He nods.

  After the interview, I call Aria. “If he’s going to be working aboard this ship, he doesn’t need to be sleeping in a cell. Is my old stateroom available? Or since I’m no longer a parent, do I need to move back into it?”

  “A stateroom would be a bit above and beyond for him. But assigning him an alcove in the barracks with the spacers will not be an issue, in time. Have a Trooper assigned to shadow him for a few days. During that time, he will be in Detention, but that is really a formality until he is not shadowed. You are primary staff now, Sonia. You merit a Suite Stateroom whether you have dependents or not. The fact that you do not presently have Gwen does not call for your eviction. And since I have no directive taking her from you, we will continue to consider her absence temporary. But should you feel lonely, call me. Viggo will also require three more anti-radiation treatments, so make sure he gets to them: One each week for the next three weeks.”

  “I’ll keep your offer in mind, but for the moment, Dr. Took is keeping me from getting too lonely. And I’m afraid you aren’t the first one waiting in the Lady Lover line.”

  Aria laughs. “That does not surprise me. You are a lovely example of your species, Sonia. You should see the other androids from my model line. Of course, none of them is as desirable as I.”

  How could they be? “Thank you. I see modesty is not among your programming.” We both laugh. “I can believe that about you. Although you may be the product of an assembly line, I get the feeling that you are unique.”

  “I am. No other DEBI model has my exact programming. By the way, the Captain has ordered us to build another android using some of my system specifications. You and I have received the task. We will start planning it tomorrow. You will need to divide up your days accordingly.”

  “Tomorrow it is. Can we do it in the morning? I’m working with Sherri on the armor in the evenings.”

  “That will be fine. Are you giving yourself down time?”

  “I’m limiting myself to 14-hour days, so I do have some down time. And I’m not sure, but I think Avi’s been dosing me with sleeping meds when he thinks I’m pushing myself too hard. But with a long list of things to do, and a short list of people to do them, let’s just say there’s plenty of overtime to go around.”

  “Understood. By the way, the Captain wants to see you; it is Fitness and Performance report time. After he does yours, make sure you do those of your subordinates.”

  Oh joy, more good news. “I’ll get them done.”

  “Aria out.”

  Just what I need, another project. I call the Troop Commander and arrange for a Trooper to shadow the BaineRa’ahian for at least three days.

  I pick up a few other personal niceties (comfy clothes, hygiene items, etc.) and drop them by Detention for him. When whoever gets the shadow task gets to detention, they’ll get the instructions for them to bring Viggo to the engine room. I also contact Ginny and Gorb so we can have a team huddle and introductions. I direct Gorb to show him around the engines, Transit and maneuver, because likely as not that’s where he will be working. Ginny’s eyebrows move up a bit when I say her sphere of influence is growing.

  Sherri wanders in. “Hey, Baby, I’ve been directed to help you with the armor. You get me for three hours per day for the next four days. Just tell me what to do, what to have, where to be, and when to be there.” Apparently she’s now comfortable around me.

  “Hi, Sugar,” I respond. “Let’s go into workshop 2. Yes, you and I are going to deal with some of the ‘gender specific’ issues of PeteArmor, so get into this body-suit.” The material is form fitting and leaves very little to the imagination. After she has it on, I tell her, “And stay away from my boyfriend when you’re wearing this, or I’ll scratch your eyes out.” We both giggle. “I wish I looked like that in it. What I’m thinking now is to use this as a form-fitting inner suit with a variable density garment over it to fill up the voids between the operator and the actual armor. You know, where one Trooper may be larger than another. I think it would help to have an expandable layer between that and the armor. That should eliminate chafing, calluses, blisters, all that junk. What do you think?”

  We chat while I take measurements. She gives me her comments then asks, “How’s the captured Rupert doing?”

  “Viggo Sardone. He comes across as knowing his stuff. I haven’t read his dossier in detail yet, but he seems to be pretty knowledgeable.” There’s a bump in the undergarment about seven inches below her navel. I touch it and it rolls around slightly inside. Sherri flinches slightly. I look up to her eyes. “Is that a piercing? Is the suit pulling on it or pushing it around? We may want to make it SOP to pull those out before donning the undergarment. Why do you ask about my apprentice engineer, do you need a new toy boy? He’s cute in a Nordic sort of way, isn’t he?”

  “It is a piercing, and it only hurts when you push it too far. Your new guy doesn’t really tickle my pickle. But Shawna will be on him like stink on poo. That tart will do anyone. But she’s a damned hot pilot, so she gets a certain amount of latitude, provided she’s discreet of course. I respect her and I’d recommend the same.”

  “Oh, I do respect her. But if she tries digging her claws into my man, I’m going to go Highlander on her. I may not walk away victorious, I may not walk away at all, but she’ll know she’s been in a scrap.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. If she has a redeeming quality, it’s that she only chases the unattached. Besides, young Doctor Dreamy won’t associate with sluts. Notice I didn’t say ‘doesn’t.’ His laces are pretty straight. I think he takes after his Dad more than his Mom. She’s almost as bad as Shawna. If ‘bad’ is the right word.”

  “Was I the only person that didn’t know they were related?”

  There’s a knock on the door. A tall dark skinned Trooper is there, holstered pistol on her hip. “Chief Soh Nee Ah Mac Tagg Ert, I am Shanella. I’m here to keep an eye on Veeego.” She has a thick but understandable accent. Viggo is standing behind her, at ease. His translator hangs around his neck.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shanella. Viggo, if Shanella questions you or tells you to do something, I’d recommend immediate compliance. The command climate set up by the Captain is one of immediate and unquestioning obedience.”

  “Of course, ma’am,” Viggo responds.

  “Excellent. Shanella, Viggo will be working with Gorb in the maneuver drive room for the time being. If you would, please escort him there and introduce them.” She nods and they head off to Maneuver.

  At the end of our first day, Sherri and I have four things worked out: The suit needs to accommodate boobs, guts, butts, and hair; an inner liner separate from the Armor would make it easier to slip into and out of; fine adjustments of the gloves, boots, and helmet need to be made, ideally by the Trooper, but a buddy should be able to help; and if the Trooper is in the suit for any significant time, bio-waste disposal will be necessary.

  “Excellent,” I tell Sherri, as she reaches for the fastener. “Take the undergarment with you, then come back tomorrow in it, and we’ll start on the weapons interfaces. I have Freddie’s input, but I want yours too.” She nods and pulls her coveralls over the undergarment.

  Viggo knocks on the LEO door several hours later. Shanella leans against the opposing bulkhead. “I beg your pardon, Chief,” Viggo says, “but that retarded fellow, can you really trust him with starship engines?”

  I fix an icy stare on him. Were it not for Shanella, I’d tell him to sh
ut the door and gnaw on his backside for an hour. “More than I do you. If you have a complaint, let’s hear the specifics. If you lack specifics, don’t mention this again until you do. I have absolutely no misgivings that Gorb could build a working Transit engine using a pocketknife, duct tape, the rusted hulk of a gemvee, and a rotting duck. Anything else on your mind?”

  The tension is palpable. Shanella’s hand moves to the butt of her pistol.

  “I see. I am sorry. I will start listening to him right away.” His contrition is evident. I have never seen anybody back pedal so fast.

  “See that you do. A word to the wise: if you mistreat him, I’m not the only person to whom you’ll answer for it. If you want to stay on his good side, which isn’t hard to do, share a candy bar with him from time to time. He’s very fond of chocolate, but don’t overdo it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He walks away looking embarrassed, with Shanella hot on his heels.

  I check my chronometer. My 14 hours are up. I call the Captain’s office and get an appointment with Friday. Tomorrow morning. Aria’s android will have to wait.

  I show up early, clean and well rested. “Sir,” I say and sink into my curtsy, “Chief Engineer Sonia MacTaggert reporting.”

  “Come in, Sonia. Sit down.” The Captain is in a black athletic jacket, his hood covering the top of his face, sitting in his throne style chair. There is a cup of tea waiting for me. “I am most pleased with your performance and willingness to take on new projects. Your report will show ‘Exceeds Standards’ in all areas. I am giving you a raise to thirty thousand credits per month. How is my android coming?”