by J G Clements
Months ago, when the Earth-Station had been rafted together, She had oriented the ship so one of her viewports overlooked the Fleet, and the other one overlooked Earth. It put her ship at an odd angle, but with it being rafted to so many other ships, it didn’t seem to matter. Normally, she manned the radios, took calls from governments, booked work on satellites, helped mediate disputes, and in general, worried about everyone. Negotiating with various governments and agencies was a pain. Fortunately, the tech firms who owned the satellites were a lot more fun to work with. And when she got frustrated, her friend Jennifer was unflappable.
Financially, the Fleet had done pretty well. A number of Earth governments were unhappy with them, including the United States, but the owners and operators of various communication satellites were thrilled to have someone who could make service calls. Most firms paid hundred of millions of dollars to build the satellites, and sometimes well over fifty million to launch it. So when it stops working, the savings of having it looked at in orbit versus building a new one was a no-brainer. To help drive some governments even crazier, Sue had insisted some contracts to be paid in bitcoins.
The result was that much of the Fleet, 29 ships now rafted together over Earth, was more like a floating garage. Satellites could be retrieved and brought in, or several ships could be dispatched to make house calls. Several of the Fleet ships were now entirely used for repair, and Captains of those ships had doubled up in other ships. Even better, the supply ships that were sent up periodically were used as repair bays, and though it had taken some time, it was all working out. One of the larger resupply ships had been modified to act as a greenhouse. There had been rumors of fresh vegetables, but she hadn’t seen anything yet.
There were always issues, of course. The smaller satellites could be brought into a cargo hold, and then the hold could be pressurized. That made it a lot easier to work on. Of course if the satellite was freezing cold or blistering hot, it had to reach a decent room temperature. And if it was cold, water would condense on it. None of that made the owners happy. But still, it all seemed to work out, except for the occasional story that the Fleet was sabotaging satellites so they could charge to fix them.
The Fleet had to earn money, and lots of it, to pay for resupply. Sue had done a lot to make these supply ships cheaper, mostly by eliminating the complexity, and making it clear to the firms chosen for launches that she wouldn’t tolerate cost over-runs. They now got most of the launches from countries where the government was able to get out of the way and let the private firms alone. Where originally it cost over five thousand dollars per pound of payload, Sue had gotten the cost down to less than one thousand dollars a pound. Because of this, the Fleet could afford monthly resupply ships. And of course, the Fleet kept the ships for salvage.
The best deals, of course, was when a satellite provider needed to send up parts. They would go a long way to underwrite the cost of personal items. Sometimes even coffee was available when there was some available room on a launch. It was instant coffee, but it was coffee. Since each member got to choose their own luxury items, Sue suspected there was some sort of black-market developing. A student of history, she recalled that one of the first currencies of the United States said ‘mind your own business’. Yeah, that was fine. Free people can negotiate amongst themselves.
Another perk to the Fleet was several tech firms had virtually adopted Fleet members as beta-testers. One phone company had paid for free cell phones for the entire fleet, and orbited a repeater so they could have Fleet members test their new smart phones. A fleet member could text someone on Earth, and at no charge. The joke was that she had negotiated a deal where no one went over on their monthly minutes. The actual technology was no big deal. Go Figure.
Besides manning the radios, Sue and Jennifer took turns manning one of the few radars the Fleet had. Earth orbit, both low and synchronous had enough junk flying around to keep everyone worried. And of course, there was always the possibility that someone on Earth might have a missile with their name on it. After the recent events from Mike-14, they had started watching deep space, too.
Despite that, they didn’t see it coming. It used Earth as a shield and by the time it was visible over Earth’s horizon, it was less than thirty minutes away. It came into orbit a bit ‘behind’ the Fleet, but in a lower orbit. That may have been in an effort to appear to be less menacing but the size of the ship neutralized that idea. It dwarfed the Fleet. Not the individual ships, but the entire Fleet. Before anyone could compose an articulate sentence to hail it, it hailed them.
“Hello McKinsie Fleet. This is the Transport Ship ‘OddJob’. Be advised we have cargo for transference to your fleet. We request permission to dock for the exchange of data and personnel.” The speaker waited just a second for that to sink in, but not long enough for either Sue or Jennifer to form a reply. He continued, “Be advised the cargo manifest includes 2000 pounds of fresh produce, 300 pounds of beef, and 50 cans of coffee for your fleet, compliments of the Crekie. How may we proceed?”
Sue had composed herself by then…almost…but knew dam well the Oddjob could wipe them out just by ramming them. It takes a special person who can pretend to be in control when they know they aren’t. Sue was one of those people. “Hello Transport Ship Oddjob. You are cleared to rendezvous but not cleared to dock. We request you remain at stand-off distance until our personnel are ready to receive you. Do you copy?”
“We copy, Fleet. We cede authority to you here. Let us know when everyone is awake and dressed. Take your time.” There may have been irony in his voice.
“Oddjob…can you state your port of Origin?”
“We could. But you’ve never heard of us, and I don’t think you have a name for our star system. Would you like me to transmit some meaningless numbers, lie to you, or remain silent?”
Sue sighed and with the mike off, looked over at Jennifer. Jennifer had the right answer. “They sound male. Ask them to lie to us?” Sue smiled but thought better of it. Instead, she turned back to her console.
“How far away is your point of origin?”
“Our origin point is about 150 lightyears away. That’s where we’re building the Earth-Normal ships, like this.” Sue looked at Jennifer who stared back. They both shrugged. There was nothing normal about the ship from their viewpoints.
“We copy that Oddjob. How do you propose we proceed?”
“We’d be happy to send a crewmember over, or if you would prefer, you could send one or two crewmembers here.”
Simultaneously Sue and Jennifer said “Dibbs.”
“Oddjob, we will send 2 crewmen over. Are there any special preparations we need to make?”
“Fleet, we can receive you via an ETA walk, we can send a skiff, or we can hard-dock. We accept your authority here, Fleet. You decide.” It wasn’t lost on either of the girls that the ship had a fourth option. It could just swallow the entire fleet, whole. While they thought about that, another call came in from the Moonfleet…another couple dozen ships that were in orbit around the moon, deciding where and how to build a base.
“McKinsie Fleet, this is Moonfleet. Do you see what we see? It’s huge!”
“We see it. And we concur. It’s freaken huge. Have you been listening in?”
“Of course. What can we trade you for the coffee?”
“Absolutely not. We’re treating this as a friendly transaction. It’s clear that they are so advanced to our technology that there isn’t any real option, is there?” It was lost on no one that the ship was trying not to appear belligerent. While Sue was speaking to Moonfleet, Jennifer had been looking at the telescopic cameras trained on the Moon…it was mostly just habit to try to maintain visual communications whenever possible. Or perhaps Jennifer had a hunch. Because of that, Jennifer probably got the credit of seeing it first.
“Ah…Moonfleet. I think you’re about to get your own coffee.” Another ship, identical to the one outside, was closing on the Moonfleet. “Call us back when
you can tell us what’s going on, OK?”
“We see it now, too. Thanks McKinsie. Moonfleet out.”
Sue and Jennifer now turned their attention back to what was already becoming ‘their’ ship. A glance at her console showed all green lights, everyone in her Fleet was now at their consoles, and ready for whatever would be requested. There was chatter, but it was all private…no one would pester Sue with meaningless questions. One thing about the men and women chosen by McKinsie was that they were all smart enough to know when to shut up. No one would bother Sue unless they truly knew something she didn’t.
Sue opened the mike to the Fleet, and hoped the ship couldn’t listen in. “McKinsie Fleet…Jennifer and I will make this first contact. Our plan is to ETA over, spend two hours, then one or both of us will return and report. Sue out”. Jim, out on the iceberg was patched in to the fleet frequency and thought, ‘Sure. And if you don’t come back, we can bite their ankles.’
In less than ten minutes, two spacesuited figures floated over to the ship. Normally you worry about missing your target in a true ETA float. Though they both hand-carried little adjustment jets, the size of their target made any adjustment unnecessary. The cargo bay opening was easily a hundred yards across.
Once inside, they floated a bit further, their momentum aimed toward the back bulkhead. As they proceeded, though, they both found themselves drifting down toward what would be termed the deck. Wasting no time, they spun themselves…like a couple of gymnasts in slow motion…to present their boots to the floor first. Drifting down, they touched the deck, then almost lost their balance as some gravity was restored to them. Jennifer always had the more sarcastic sense of humor. “Does this gravity make my butt look big?”
They were only alone a minute. A…man…or a close proximity of a man…his features were too bland, too undefined…approached and offered to help them. He was dressed in coveralls, not a spacesuit. The yawning opening of the cargo bay didn’t concern him in the slightest. Seeing them land on their feet, he motioned to them that they could remove their helmets. But rather than do so, both women opened their chin vents instead. That would allow them to breathe, but could be closed much faster than putting a helmet back on. Watching them, he nodded, then motioned for them to follow him. Without looking back, he started toward the rear bulkhead. Sue pursed her lips, thinking that the first meeting of an Earther and an extra-terrestrial was a non-event event.
A longer walk than it looked, the rear bulkhead was probably two hundred yards away. Enough for the girls to rubberneck. The floor wasn’t smooth. It was more like a pebbled grate, with lots of places for tie-downs. An entire section had straps and the like attached, as if something large had been released recently. The give-away was the moveable steps. Probably some sort of ship. Sue pointed them out to Jennifer, and observed that maybe gravity was not as reliable here as it appeared.
The stranger overheard. “Oh, it usually works fine. The problem is when you make a savage turn, stuff can slide sideways, and occasionally, out the door. Also, if you are really out of power, gravity is one of the first functions to be disabled.” Turning to look directly at them, he added, “We try to hold onto Life Support as long as possible.” The look Jennifer gave Sue confirmed a previous comment. Irony, all right.
The walk to where they were going gave them insight into how the ship was laid out, and into how it was constructed. And in many respects, it didn’t differ much from any modern naval craft: Lots of walls, bulkhead, ladders, tubes, and exposed…plumbing and wiring she assumed. At least it appeared to be what plumbing and wiring would look like. The walls though didn’t feel like steel, at least not through the gloved hands of Sue’s suit.
The walk was making the girls overheat. They again looked at their guide and decided there was no reason not to trust him. Whether he was friendly or not, he had such an advantage with this ship over the entire Fleet that it would have been pointless to argue. So instead of overheating, they accepted their positions and opened the face-shields. The air smelled better than they imagined. No sign of old machines or rust or sweat. Just clean dry air. Perhaps very dry, but that wouldn’t bother either girl. With their helmets opened, they both stopped momentarily to help each other unzip their gloves. The suits would get hot, but being open would make that a bit less uncomfortable.
“You can refresh yourselves here,” pointing to a bulkhead door. “The Captain would like to meet with you in approximately an hour. Is that acceptable?” His manner appeared as if he didn’t expect any argument, and he seemed a bit surprised at Sue’s answer.
“We promised the fleet we’d return in two hours for a briefing. It’s our way of letting them know that everything is Ok.”
“You mean that we haven’t cooked you or enslaved you? That’s good thinking.” He didn’t have an accent, but he reminded Sue of a British comedian. “I’ll inform the Captain of your timetable and see if he can accommodate you.” With that, he opened the door, waved the girls in, then shut it. There was a handle on the inside, but neither girl tried it. It might be considered not a terribly trust-worthy thing to do. And the room itself caught their attention.
Rooms on military vessels are supposed to be small, barren, with ugly metal furniture and no decorations. This was more like a mid-range hotel. Bed, dressers, chairs…not wood but some sort of plastic that mimicked wood.
“Clean Sheets! I get dibs!”, Sue was first on the bed. Jennifer saw the bowl of fruit, and to someone eating the rations that the Fleet had to offer for the last couple of years, was already halfway thru an apple with a pear next in line. Exploring, she opened the wardrobe and did a double take.
“Sue, I think we’re supposed to dress for meeting the Captain”. The clothes in the wardrobe were simple jumpsuits, with matching tunics. What clinched the deal, though, were the insignia on the tunics. In yellow letters on a black oval background, ‘McKinsie Fleet’ were sewn onto each tunic. Holding one to her torso to figure out the size she continued, “Should we get changed, or stay in our suits? This is all happening pretty fast isn’t it? This ship, the fact they speak English better than half the fleet, artificial gravity, even fresh fruit for heaven’s sake. Should we be wary about all this, or go along with it?”
“Both. Look…the technology just to build a ship of this size is way past anything the Earth is capable of. They could have knocked us out of the sky just by brushing past us and there would have been nothing we could have done, right? Instead, what did he say…’they cede authority to us on docking’? That is meant to tell us something. Then the fruit, this room. No, they want us to cooperate. I vote we should enjoy all this, but not let it in any way affect any decisions we make about them, OK? They might be the nicest people…er, Race…we’re ever going to meet or they might be absolutely evil. Personally, I can eat an Apple and dress in some very nice clothes, and not let it affect my judgement, OK? Come on…help me get into this jumpsuit.”
It was Jennifer that had one more surprise to spring, “Maybe right after we use the shower?”
However it was orchestrated, they weren’t bothered until they had showered with real water, and were dressed. In some respects, it made them realize how difficult it had been on their own little ships. The Captain must have tried to compromise on the schedule, not waiting the full hour. There was a polite knock on the door and both crewmembers were ready to go. Dressed in their new clothes, looking relaxed and refreshed, they wanted to make a good impression. No idea who these people were, but Sue knew this was something major. What bothered her was the thought that there was nothing the Fleet could offer that would make any of this effort reasonable.
The man that greeted them was similar to the previous crewmember but his face and hands seemed to have more definition. No age lines, but not the featureless softness of the first crew member they met. Both girls were slow on the uptake…the McKinsie fleet didn’t do rank insignia but it was Sue who saw it first. It was the captain himself who was calling on them.
“Captain?,” and he nodded, nonplussed. “Captain, let us introduce ourselves. This is Jennifer-9 and I’m Sue-39. You understand how we obtain our Fleet names, sir?”
“Captains.” He was recognizing both of them as captain in their own rights, “Yes, I do. From my understanding of the Earth governments, you needed to keep your family names private, correct?” As Sue nodded, the Captain continued. “My name is Captain Jack Sullivan. And before you ask me a lot of questions, let me point out that I was born in Kansas about 97 years ago, and have been with the Crekie for almost six years.” Looking at each woman in turn, he immediately connected with them. “Pretty cool, huh?”
He just seemed to assume that the two women would find it cool, and without waiting was on the move out the door. “Come on, if we’re going to make your two-hour deadline there’s something to show you and we can talk there.” Turning, he was already starting aft down the hallway. He glanced back to make sure they were coming, and he grinned when they joined him.
Even with his back toward them, while Sue and Jennifer exchanged glances, he kept the conversation going. “The Crekie have known about Earth for over a century. They originally just hung out in the asteroid belt and kept an eye on us. About a dozen years ago they started to,” he seemed to search for a word, “recruit some of us to work with them and help them modify shipbuilding to accommodate what we call ‘Earth-normals’. That is, biologicals that are accustomed to Earth’s conditions. Or nearly so. Anyway, with what happened with Jim-88, they decided that Earth was due for a wakeup call and have moved several of their cargo vessels nearer to Earth. The Lunatic was dispatched to the moon, I got to come to Earth, and Rebound is on its way out to Ceres. Jennifer was too busy taking all this in, but Sue did a double-take at the mention of Ceres. That was one card she thought she still had left to play. Instead, she had to say something.