by Dave Gordon
Tuya and I rose through the ship to the pod hanger. Compared to the almost cramped feeling of the rest of the ship, the pod hanger was cavernous. It had its very own shield generator, an impressive bit of technology to service a single room. It also had its own gravity control that required a crew of two to operate. Gravity Control was a classically boring job since the technology was so stable. Losing gravity control in the pod hanger would be a very bad thing since some of the pods were quite large. Not the kind of thing one wants floating around the room. There were pods of different sizes for different tasks.
One large craft, which required a flight crew of five and had room for fifty passengers and several smaller crafts each varying in capacity and size. Each pod sat in front of a decompression chamber that allowed the outside port to be opened without losing too much atmosphere. The pod deck was isolated from the rest of the ship as a precaution in case of some component failure. A failure on the pod deck could endanger the entire ship so it was run absolutely by-the-book. The deck officer assigned us the smallest vessel. It was useful for extra-vehicular work. It had fully articulated arms and a large view port that spanned the entire front of the craft. Tuya climbed into the pilot's seat. I ducked into the small cabin headfirst and then lowered myself into the comfortable seat using the door frame as a hand hold. Tuya gave me a stern look reminding me that the doors were a hands-off item. Just the presence of the oil from one's skin was enough to compromise the door seal. The Deck Master closed and sealed the doors. It was close quarters and I could hear our breathing. Tuya put the Communications bud in her ear and began the pre-launch sequence. She looked like an ancient magician making incantations as her hands flew across the panels. The pod jerked backwards and we were conveyed into the decompression chamber. There was a slight creaking as the bay door was opened and the pod reacted to zero pressure. I unconsciously held my breath hoping I had not wrecked the door seal.
Tuya looked straight ahead saying, “Holding your breath will not protect you from zero pressure.”
The engines came to life with a gentle shudder. The small craft lifted slightly off the deck. Tuya hovered for a moment to get the feel of the craft before backing out the door into space. The stark beauty of space was breath-taking. I was one half inch of diamond glass away from the universe. I could practically touch it. Tuya was all business. She brought the craft out twenty meters and began to survey for damage. We headed slowly to the front of the ship.
From the inside, the Triton is a cramped series of tunnels. From the outside, the ship is a behemoth. A diamond alloy blimp with only scattered view ports to mar its sleek skin. Traversing the distance from the pod deck to the bow took several minutes.
“I'm glad you are going slow, this is really amazing,” I said.
Tuya replied, “Do you ever read the manual? Fifty knots is standard cruising speed for extravehicular damage surveys.”
I had read the manual. Twice. I got about ten pages into it both times before my mind went completely numb. The manual was comprised of hundreds of screens of content.
The cause of the navigation unit trouble became apparent when we reached the nose of the ship. The Navigation sensors, the forward lasers, and the proximity sensor had been sheared away. What was left was a ragged scar made by a glancing blow from a large object that came from behind us at an angle. If it had hit us at any less acute angle, or any further amid ship, we would have been destroyed. As it was, the hull of the ship was creased but not badly ruptured. Tuya was transmitting imagery, I was trying to figure out how to fashion another Navigation array.
Tuya turned the tiny ship for a full visual recon. She said, “You will have a lot of spare time to clean my quarters now that you have no duties.”
“Me!” I protested. “You're the one who goes berserk and tears the place up every time I make the slightest little sound.”
“Some day I will accidentally break your arm and then you will not think your little game is so funny,” she said looking at me slyly.
“Oh, I am just a poor little Earth boy, please do not hurt me alien tigress,” I pleaded.
She looked at me flatly and said, “You are the strangest Earthling I have ever met. That is why I love you.”
She said it matter-of-factly, but the effect on me was profound. To think that this treasure of the stars loved me. This monument to strength and beauty that I adored. I was over whelmed with love. “I love you too,” I said, my eyes welling with tears.
“Then you will forgive me if I get even for the endless taunting I endure for your amusement,” she said. She threw the craft into a series of violent barrel rolls followed by tight loops. She increased speed suddenly and then turned ninety degrees with a G force easily exceeding five. I struggled to fight off unconsciousness as she braked and accelerated several times. I was about to be violently ill when she stopped the craft. “Oh, the poor little Earth boy is sick. We'll get him home and put him to bed,” she said mocking my abject misery.
I do not remember the rest of the flight but I was very glad to get my feet on the flight deck of the pod hanger. Tuya helped me to her room as my head continued to spin. I collapsed on the bed.
Tuya woke me up a short time later.
Tuya and I were to attend a meeting of senior officers. I was nervous. I had only met the Captain twice. He seemed okay, but the general rule for Shipmen was to avoid the notice of senior officers, it was always trouble.
The meeting was set for first shift since that was when most of the officers were on duty. I had to get up three hours early to make the meeting. I went out to the Captain's deck and looked for the meeting room. I had been on the deck before but I had never stayed long. I found the 1AA passageway. I walked down it with apprehension. The appointments were definitely a cut above the rest of the ship. There were brass accents here and there. The bulkhead doors had chrome beading. It seemed like the ceiling was a few inches taller. I may have been crouching, I don't know.
Suddenly I was standing in the entryway of the meeting room. A wood table sat in the middle of the room. I had never seen a wood table outside a museum before. Captain Sanders and Commander Alworth sat at the table. They looked up and the Commander beckoned to me.
“Captain,” he said, “this is Shipman Tular, second shift navigator. He surveyed the ship with Lieutenant Zhia!tu.” I snapped a crisp salute.
The Captain gave me an appraising look before returning the salute. He pointed to a chair in the middle of the table. “Nice to meet you, Shipman Tular. We'll get started when everyone arrives.”
The Captain and the Commander settled into a comfortable discussion of fleet politics. I tried to look relaxed. Tuya walked in without a word, followed by Engineering Chief Falsington. Both saluted and sat after being acknowledged.
“Let's get started, shall we?” The Captain brought up an image of the front of the ship. It was imagery Tuya and I had taken. “Well Shipman Tular, what is your assessment of the situation?”
I hesitated a bit since the situation was plainly obvious but I supposed that was how things were done ‘up top', as the Captain's deck was called. “The navigation array, the mounting platforms, the interfaces, and the surrounding hull plates have been destroyed. Restoring navigation will require placing a new array.”
“Thank you Shipman Tular. Chief Falsington, do you concur?” the Captain asked the scowling Chief. Chief Falsington had a great reputation for engineering competency and an even greater reputation for foul moods.
“Yes Captain,” the Chief growled. “Its going to take at least three weeks to put one together and another week to put it in place.”
The Captain stared blankly at the Chief. That was clearly not the answer he had hoped for. Captains were not paid to have their ship sit dead in space for weeks on end. I tried to keep my mouth shut but something was trying to get out. I swallowed hard but the words got out. “Captain, perhaps we could try something else,” I said, cursing myself silently for my foolishness.
T
he Captain cocked his head and turned my way. “Oh really, and what might that be, Shipman Tular?”
Me and my big mouth, I thought, but I pushed on. “If we took a pod out and navigated with it, the ship's sensors could be used to follow. We could make almost full speed for the four weeks it would take to get the navigation array back on line.”
The Captain sat straight faced. I could not tell what he was thinking. I had a fleeting thought that my suggestion might have been the stupidest thing he had ever heard. He said, “Well done, Shipman Tular. A capitol plan. Commander, make the arrangements. Very good, very good indeed,” he said as he turned and walked out without dismissing us.
Everyone was looking at me but this time I kept my mouth shut. The Commander said, “Well, Shipman Tular, I think the pod duty is yours and Lieutenant Zhia!tu shall pilot. We'll make the changes to the duty roster. You will start tomorrow, first shift. That is all.” He rose and exited as the Chief, Tuya, and I looked at each other.
The Chief rose. “Son, I owe you one. If you had not come up with that, they would have been riding my butt the whole time. Good job.”
As the Chief left, Tuya rose and said, “A meteoric rise, from second shift to first shift, congratulations. Perhaps I can find a way to congratulate you properly during our four weeks together.”
As good as that sounded, it reminded me that there would not be any medical help in the pod. I hoped she took it easy on me. Then again, I hoped not.
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Chapter 5
I hurried to the pod hanger arriving just as the first shift bell rang. Tuya was already there going over the pre-flight inspection with the Deck Master. The pod we were assigned was not the largest but was certainly roomy enough for a crew of two. I guessed they knew that anyone in close contact with Tuya for four weeks would need a little maneuvering room to survive. Tuya finished the inspection and walked around to the entry.
“Your chariot awaits,” she said with a low bow.
I strode aboard like a sea captain taking command of a ship, hand on breast, head held high. She closed the door as I walked to the foredeck of the large pod. The ceiling was high enough to stand upright. There was enough room to take five full strides inside the living space. Cargo and equipment holds narrowed the available room, but it was still very large by pod duty standards. There was a full mess and separate sleeping quarters in the rear. It was not large enough to accommodate a full latrine, however. The latrine sat below deck in the somewhat narrow space between the engines and the piloting systems. One descended a short ladder to enter and closed the deck panel over their head to gain privacy. Tuya was the least modest creature in the universe, but I felt obliged to entomb myself while using the facilities.
Tuya slipped into the pilot's seat and began the pre-launch incantation. It was impossible to discern what she was doing as her fingers flew across the controls. The pod slid into the compression chamber with a slight jerk. Tuya grasped the thruster throttle with her right hand and the ship began to lift from the deck. She took the craft out of the pod bay very slowly. The blackness of space overwhelmed my senses. The stars beat through with needles of light.
Tuya executed a slow roll as she brought the craft about. I feared she might torment me with another thrill ride. She said, “I just wanted to see how it flew, relax.”
She took the craft out to five-hundred meters in front of the ship. “Pod Ivanovich ready for navigation,” she said.
She looked at me with a raised eyebrow and I suddenly remembered my role in the deal. I started making frantic navigational computations hoping she would stall for time. I should have known better.
“Aye aye, pod Ivonovich under way,” she said smiling slyly. She began accelerating slowly just as the first navigation readings were coming up.
I thought she was going to push the ship off course but she was following my course directions as quick as I could make them. Each new course calculation was met with a corresponding speed increase. Sweat was beginning to dampen my uniform. The Navigation console finally locked in just as the pod came up to full speed.
“You have a real mean streak, did anybody ever tell you that?” I asked. My heart was still pounding. If we had taken the ship off course it would have obviously been my fault.
“If we had delayed, it would not have looked good for you. I went no faster than I knew you could go,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, well then, thank you for torturing me for my own good,” I replied sarcastically.
“You are welcome, I look after you as well as I may,” she said either ignoring or not noticing the sarcasm.
The days passed slowly with the shifts blending together. Tuya worked double and triple shifts. I worked as much as I could but I could not keep up with her. She was tireless in maintaining the ship, piloting, taking time for me, and keeping up her fitness routine. She had to train constantly to stay in as good of shape as she was.
She had many different exercises. Her favorite routine consisted of a holographic ball that appeared to bounce off the surfaces of the ship as she batted it with her open hand. Occasionally she would kick it. Her hands moved so fast they were a blur of motion. She lifted weights of different shapes and sizes with her hands or feet. She would balance on one foot holding a very heavy weight at arms length while balancing a lighter weight on her foot and tossing a third weight in the air with her other hand. Sitting cross-legged on the deck, she would plant one hand between her legs and lift herself into a handstand as if it required no effort. At the end of these routines, I would applaud and tell her she was the most marvelous creature in the universe. She would kiss me lightly and say that it meant a lot to her that I believed that.
We had been in the pod for over one week. The navigation was scheme was working very well. The restoration of the Triton's navigational system was taking longer than expected. The damage to the hull plates was more extensive than the initial reports had indicated. The Materials Recovery section was frantically extruding hull plating to repair the damage. The Triton had come closer to destruction than we had known.
During one of Tuya's long shifts, she awakened me with a yell. I leapt up thinking there was an emergency. Tuya was sitting stiffly with her right hand on the Communications bud in her ear.
“Listen” she said. She switched the channel to the internal speakers. The endless hiss of electromagnetic space radiation streamed forth. “Do you hear it?” she asked.
“No,” I said, “all I here is normal background,” I answered.
“There is a modulation, let me see if I can isolate it. Triton Communcations, Ivanovich pod,” she hailed the ship.
“Pod Ivanovich, Triton Communications,” came the reply.
“Monitor modulation on channel,” Tuya said. She sent the data to the ship on the main channel.
“Receiving.” The Triton communication computer was far more sophisticated than what she had to work with in the pod. They would be able to produce an analysis far faster than she could. “Signal coherent,” came the answer from the ship. That meant the signal was most likely from a civilization.
If the Triton had been a whaler of the Earth's eighteenth century armadas, it would have been the equivalent of hearing the cry “Thar she blows” coming from the crow's nest. That was what we had traveled over two years to find. We searched space for civilizations to trade with. Sometimes our solicitations were met with a firm ‘no'. Sometimes the answer was “Hell no!” Consequently, these things required a bit of finesse. We might have been the first off-worlders the locals had ever met. That always delayed trade negotiations as the locals did the whole “we are not alone” bit. Sometimes there was a delicate political situation in that part of space and our arrival disrupted things. Most of the time though, the locals were glad to meet us and we got down to business immediately.
“Pod Ivanovich, Triton Command,” the ship called, “return to base. Meeting in Captain's Study one half hour.”
“What?” I said incredulous. “Me too? Wow!” These meetings with the Captain were getting to be a regular thing.
“Yes. I guess your idea must have impressed him,” said Tuya. “Perhaps you can come up with another to solve our present dilemma.”
I knew exactly what she was referring to. We did not have the Navigation array back up yet and taking the Triton into an inhabited region of space without it was bad business. “I'm sure I'll be able to think of something,” I said, causing Tuya to raise an eyebrow.
Tuya brought the pod into the bay. We did not have much time to spare. “Do you know where the Captain's Study is?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You get to go to all these things don't you?” I asked trying to get a rise out of her.
“Yes.”
“Are you a regular guest in the Captain's Study?” I asked suggestively.
“I was at one time,” she said.
Maybe she was just trying to shut me up or maybe it was true. I was not going to ask any more questions, though. We made our way out to the Captain's deck. Tuya took us to the library. The library was beautiful. There was wood and fabric in abundance. There were floor lamps with actual incandescent bulbs. They gave the room a subdued, warm ambiance. An oriental rug covered most of the deck, something I had never seen outside a book. There was a wood desk with wood chairs. Real paper books lined the walls. There was a red leather chair sitting in the corner under a reading light. It was the most opulent room I had ever seen. Tuya sat in one of the chairs on the side of the rectangular table and she motioned for me to sit beside her. As I was sitting down the Captain entered and we both got up. He waved us down and he took a seat at the head of the table.
“Well, how are the two pod rats getting along?” he asked. ‘Pod rat’ was a good-natured term for people who had extended duty in pods. It was derived from ancient times when rats would infest the lifeboats of sinking ships.