“How is any of that different from what I said?”
“It isn’t. It just sounds better, when we have to sell your idea to the idiots at UNEF Command.”
“Oh, got it. I first have to manipulate one smaller group of idiots into accepting my idea, to prevent a much larger group of ninnies from panicking and burning down your planet?”
“Something like that, yeah?”
“This is going to be fun. Not.”
“Hey, if being incredibly awesome were easy, anyone could do it.”
He tilted his head at me suspiciously. “Was that you trying to manipulate me?”
“Of course not. Um, if it was, did it work?”
“The only reason I will do this, is I feel sorry that you are so pathetic.”
“Uh, thank you?”
“I will create a submind to work on the problem while we’re away. I need someone to run my businesses anyway.”
“Your totally legit businesses, that will not get me in any trouble at all, right?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know about any of that, Joe.”
“Can we pretend that when you talked about your businesses, I was drunk, or strung out on heroin, so I didn’t hear you? That will get me in less trouble.”
“Deal. Anything for you, Joe.”
Still in my office, I was working on my laptop, and I was not playing Super Mario Kart, so don’t listen to any lies about that no matter what Skippy tells you. Desai knocked on the door frame, and I looked up with what I intended to be a delighted grin.
She was standing in the door with arms folded across her chest. “I met a man.”
“Um,” I didn’t know what to say. “You met a man with seven wives?”
“What?” That at least changed her expression from a scowl to a bewildered stare.
“It’s a poem, or something like that. About St. Ives?” My grandfather used to recite his own version of that poem. ‘As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Of course, the seven wives weren't his, but here in France, that's how it is’.
My grandfather always got a good laugh at that version.
My grandmother was not a big fan.
“I get it.” She lifted an eyebrow. “St. Ives. It’s a children’s rhyme.”
“Um, people usually start with ‘Hello’ or ‘Good morning’,” I suggested.
“I just flew up from India. It’s the afternoon there.”
“Ok. Good afternoon, then. So, you met a man. I assume this isn’t some random guy? He means something to you?”
Her shoulders lifted as she took in a deep breath, and as she exhaled she unfolded her arms. I took that as a good sign. “Yes. Our parents introduced us.”
“Is this an arranged marriage thing?” As the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back.
“No,” she laughed, letting me off the hook. “It was an arranged blind date. He’s a doctor.”
“Your parents must be happy about that.”
“My parents are both doctors. So, yes.”
I knew that about her family. Her father had been a doctor in the Indian Army, and her mother was, some kind of doctor I couldn’t remember. It was in Desai’s personnel file, if I cared to look up that info. “Does that make you happy?”
“That he is a doctor? It doesn’t matter. He makes me happy.”
“Then, I’m happy for you?” I should not have said that as a question.
She came into my tiny office and sat down. “You may think this conversation is a bit odd.”
It was my turn to laugh. I leaned back in my chair, hands behind my head. “Major, you know what is going on with Nagatha?”
“She is officially the ship’s control AI now?”
“Yes. I meant, what happened to her, you know, out there. During the Dayton Incident.”
“Not all of it,” she admitted. “Just the official version.”
“The official version left out all the good parts. Anyway, she almost died, if you can say that about an AI. We made Skippy promise to rebuild her exactly as she was, and he really is doing the best job he can, but she wanted to make changes to herself. While she is adjusting her new matrix, or whatever the hell she’s doing, she is experiencing, uh, ‘cognitive anomalies’.”
Desai groaned. Everyone who had been aboard the ship while Skippy optimized his own matrix, remembered being woken up by Skippy the Drunk-nificent sounding like he had downed a whole bottle of tequila, or swallowed a bunch of psychedelic pills. “She can fix it?”
“Eventually,” I nodded. “Until then, Skippy is monitoring how she manages the ship. She woke me up at zero four thirty this morning to, well,” I decided it was embarrassing enough that I shouldn’t tell Desai about it. “Let’s just say that the conversation you and I are having is the least odd thing I’ve experienced this morning.”
“Good.” She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable.
The gap in conversation made me uncomfortable too. “You, uh, didn’t fly all the way up here to tell me about your social life?”
“No, Sir,” she looked relieved that I wanted to get to business. “You requested me to return to the ship as chief pilot.”
“I can’t think of anyone better for the job.”
“I can think of a hundred people more qualified. But,” she let out a breath, directed upward to blow her bangs out of her eyes. “We’ve had this argument a hundred times already.”
“You know my superhero identity is,” I made a Superman gesture like tearing my shirt open, “Stubborn Man, right?”
That made her smile. “I thought you were No Patience Man?”
“I multitask. Do you want the job?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” She looked away, in the way that people do when they know they have disappointed you. “Not again. Sir, I originally left Earth with the Expeditionary Force because I thought we were going to the stars to protect Earth.”
“We all bought that line of bullshit from the Kristang,” I said bitterly.
“Yes. Then I signed up for our second mission, because I thought it would be a quick, simple mission.”
“Uh, excuse me?”
“All we needed to do was to find an Elder communications node, so Skippy could contact the Collective, then we could go home. The whole landing on Newark and stopping the Thuranin from sending a ship to Earth was unplanned.”
“Major, we must be remembering that differently. UNEF Command sent us out on a suicide mission. They never expected us to come back, after Skippy kept his promise to take the local wormhole off its wake-up alarm.”
“You never expected us to come back, Sir. The rest of us had more faith.”
“Ok.”
“Then, I agreed to one more mission, because all we needed to do was verify the Thuranin were not replacing the surveyor starship we blew up. Instead, we had to stop the hamsters from giving Paradise back to the Kristang, launch a black operation to start a Kristang civil war, then find a way to fix Skippy before he hit Zero Hour. And rescue Paradise again, from a Kristang bioweapon.”
“Ok.” I knew she was making some sort of point. “So we’re overachievers?” I suggested, attempting to lighten the mood with humor. It fell flat.
“Even the second mission took much longer than expected.”
“Well,” it was my turn to shift uncomfortably in my chair. “We did have to spend time on Newark, while Skippy rebuilt the ship.”
“The third mission took almost two years,” she was not quite glaring at me, but it was close. “Now you want me to sign on with the Pirates again? Sir, after the Ruhar raided Earth on Columbus Day, I put my life on hold, so I could help defend Earth. To protect my family. When we came back, against all odds, I wanted nothing more than to start a normal life, like everyone else. A relationship. Eventually children, before my mother despairs of me ever giving her grandchildren.”
“Your brother and your sister both have children,” I noted, thinking that would make her feel better.
“Yes, they do. That makes my parents even more eager for me to settle down.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Her expression softened. “Don’t you want a normal life, Sir?”
“Yeah. Of course. Someday. Major, I can certainly understand why you would decline to sign up for another mission with the Pirates-”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Uh, what?”
She smiled. “I decline the opportunity to be chief pilot again.”
“Oh.”
“Colonel, I understand Chang and Simms are going to this beta site, to land there and stay for a while?”
“That’s the plan. When we get to planets that are potential beta sites, Chang will be in command of the military security force for the survey team. Simms will handle logistics. She wants to get back to her specialty. Why do you ask?”
She cocked her head at me. “Because,” she said slowly, “the Flying Dutchman still needs an executive officer.”
Duh. If there was an award for Clueless Jerk of the Year, don’t bother applying, because I have that sucker locked up. “Oh. Oh. Hell, Desai, that’s a great idea!” When I heard both Chang and Simms were going on our search for a beta site, I first assumed one of them would serve as my XO, at least on the outbound flight. They both informed me they would be far too busy with their actual assigned tasks, and would not have time to perform the time-consuming administrative duties of an executive officer. Adams had been acting as temporary XO while the Dutchman was taken apart, until the Kristang attacked out of nowhere. Because she is a Gunnery Sergeant, it would take a waiver for her to serve as first officer, and anyway she told me to forget that idea. She was going to be way too busy training and working with the STAR team. So, I had been reviewing a flood of candidates sent to me by UNEF Command. I was busy reading those files when Desai walked into my office. It only looked like I was playing a video game, to avoid making a decision. “You’ve got the job.”
“I haven’t applied yet, Sir. I have a couple of questions first.”
“Fire away.”
“This mission is just a simple recon? We check out several places that are beta site candidates, drop off a survey team, and fly back to get UN approval?”
“That’s the plan,” I nodded a bit too vigorously in my eagerness. “If we identify a site that looks good, we stay there maybe a couple months, while the survey team pokes around, collects samples, that sort of thing. Then, the survey team remains on site, while we bring data back here for the UN to wring their hands about. If they approve, we go back out, bringing a much larger science team, plus people and gear to begin setting up a colony. If they don’t like that site, we go back to retrieve the survey team and start over.”
“No side missions?”
“No side missions, except to stick our noses into a Kristang relay station, to learn if there are any more surprise groups of frozen lizards floating around beyond Pluto. To keep us, really me, out of trouble, we will have four UN commissioners aboard, including Count Chocula.” Despite our new-found respect for each other, I couldn’t help using Skippy’s disparaging nickname for Hans Chotek. “They will all be looking over our shoulders every moment. Besides, our cover story for the Maxolhx isn’t scheduled to be delivered until much later.”
“It sounds good,” she said in a way that meant the opposite. “It sounds simple. It sounds nice and safe.”
“It is safe. Safe as we can be, anyway. Look, Desai, the whole point of a beta site is that it will be the safest place in the galaxy, or beyond it. We will be exploring sites that are safe because aliens aren’t there, they can’t get there. Hell, based on what just happened here on the homefront, going out with the Dutchman may be safer than staying on Earth.”
“We really are not going out there looking for trouble? Just to find a colony site?”
“That’s the plan. You have my word on it.”
“It’s not your word that is the problem, Sir.”
“No?”
“No. You may have good intentions, but, I know you. You are a trouble magnet.”
“Me?” I acted like I was shocked by her accusation. “If we find trouble on this mission, or it comes looking for us, then we get the hell out of there. Any place with trouble is not a good candidate for a beta site.”
“Again, it all sounds good.”
“You need time to think about it? Maybe discuss it with your new,” it did not seem right to say ‘boyfriend’. “The new guy in your life?”
“No. We talked about it before I flew up here. I discussed it with my parents also. One last offworld mission.” She paused, as if trying to make up her mind. I knew her. She was a pilot. She had her course planned before she flew up to the Dutchman. Her hesitation was not about indecision, it was about acknowledging the emotional significance of her words. One last mission. Last. She might never leave Earth’s solar system again. For her, our mission to find a beta site might be the end of an era. “If you want me as your executive officer, I would be honored, Sir.”
“The honor is ours.” I stood up and held out a hand for her to shake. “Welcome aboard, XO.”
She shook my hand, relief showing on her face. “Thank you, Sir.”
“When can you start?” I asked anxiously. “The Dutchman is scheduled to have the main reactor back to full power in five days. Then we need test flights to shake down the ship, and work up the new crew. Ah, damn it, then there’s all the crap we need to load aboard for the recon mission. We have to-”
“Sir?” She held up a finger. An index finger, in case you were wondering. “Don’t you need to get permission from UNEF Command to sign me on as XO?”
“No,” I grinned. “Technically, maybe legally yes. But they know I am Stubborn Man. And this is my ship, damn it,” I rapped my knuckles on the bulkhead. “I stole it fair and square, twice. Right now, I’m in good favor with UNEF Command. That could change quickly, so I’m glad you came to me now. We’ll get the paperwork started.”
“I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”
“My guess is, UNEF Command will be thrilled to hear you will be XO. You are an experienced Pirate, and selecting you avoids all the bullshit political jockeying between nations to get one of their own favorites in that position. Speaking of which, you know what your first task will be as XO?”
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed. “Recommending a new chief pilot.”
“See? You’re ahead of the curve already. So, when can you start?”
“Today. Give me a couple hours, I need to go see Skippy first.”
“Skippy?” I wondered what she wanted to talk with the beer can about, that she couldn’t say over the phone from India.
“Yes.” The smile was gone from her face. “My uncle became involved in a cult.”
“Oh shit,” I facepalmed myself, and spread my fingers to look at her with one eye. “Club, Major. It’s a club, according to Skippy.”
“Yeah, well, my uncle left his job to seek out the Holy Skippyasyermuni in Tibet, and he spent a lot of his savings wandering around up there with a group of other followers.”
Every morning, I had to update a report on the progress Skippy was making to unwind his cult. It was going slowly. UNEF Command said they understood he had to go slowly, to avoid drawing attention to his still-secret existence, but they were constantly pestering the shit out of me about it. “Ok, listen, uh, you should talk with Adams before you visit Skippy. Her parents got involved with Skippyasyermuni. They kind of had a different experience, because her parents magically got their house paid off. Technically, all records that the mortgage ever existed were lost. Her parents gained money out of the deal, but Adams is still pissed about it, and she gave Skippy a verbal beat-down.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “She made Skippy re-establish the mortgage?”
“No,” I laughed. “Adams isn’t stupid. She made Skippy send a notice to her parents, that an anonymous donor had paid off the mortgage, in gratitude for Margaret’s s
ervice, or something like that. The point is, her parents understood their good fortune had nothing to do with Skippy’s sketchy cult. Everyone is happy, except Skippy.” Of course, somehow he was pissed at me about it, even though it had been all Adams’s idea.
The smile returned to Desai’s face. “I will talk with her first, thank you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Skippy’s avatar shimmered to life on my desk without warning. “Ooooooh, I am so mad right now.”
The ship was scheduled to depart Earth orbit in thirty-six hours, and I did not want to hear about any more problems. “Crap. What is the problem this time? The ship-”
“Dude, please. I put the ship back together perfectly. There are no problems.”
“Uh huh. Except for this squawk list,” I glanced at my laptop. “Which currently contains twenty-eight critical issues, thirty-seven issues that are merely life-threatening, and-”
“I know, I know. Working on it.”
“All of which must be fixed within the next eighteen hours, so we can conduct a Flight Readiness Review before we break orbit.” The FRR meeting was something I had been dreading for a month.
“I said, I know. My bots can only work so fast. Every important item on that squawk list will be taken care of, well in advance of this pain-in-the-ass meeting. We can conduct running repairs on the other items as we fly, we have plenty of spare parts. Ugh, the idea of sitting in a meeting while a bunch of screeching monkeys question my ability to get this ship-”
“If it makes you feel any better, I have to sit in the meeting too.”
“It does not make me feel better, because you will be in a corner playing games on your tablet, while I have to endure endless moronic questions about-”
“Hey, this is all your fault, you know. You told people how awesomely incredible you are, so now you have to live up to the reputation that you gave yourself. I just have to be a lovable doofus, because I have successfully managed expectations.”
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