by Darrell Bain
"All right, sir."
Beckoning, Cantrell led Jeremy past the officers’ dayroom, and then stopped at the Commander's office. He tabbed the door and pulled it open when he was told to enter.
"Skipper, I have Costa with me."
"Fine. Bring him on in."
"Come on, Costa,” Cantrell ordered.
To his surprise, Jeremy saw another enlisted person, E4 Jan Waters from the Tiger squad, sitting in a chair in front of the commander's desk. She kept her black hair cut short and was plain-faced but had a friendly personality. Almost everyone liked her. Sitting beside her was the pretty blond astrogator he had run into when vacating Sam Johnston on the day she was destroyed. He remembered clutching her breast when they collided during the hurried exodus before launch, and wondered if she carried a grudge over the accident.
"Sit down, Costa. And before you ask, you're not in trouble. You're just going to have some new duties."
"What sort of duties, sir?” he eyed Brackett warily but noted that Waters didn't seem to be upset. He relaxed slightly and then more so as the Commander answered.
"Costa, in case you haven't met, the woman here is Lieutenant Commander Joyce Chambers, astrogator from Sam Johnston."
"Costa and I have met, Skipper,” Joyce said and winked at Jeremy. “We collided by a drop shaft during the rush to man the boat."
Jeremy blushed, remembering the way his hand had landed squarely on her breast when he ran into her, and the way he had squeezed it involuntarily.
"Good, I guess. Now to business. Costa, I understand your subspecialty is in astronomy. How good at it are you?"
"Well ... I can't say that I'm a real astronomer, sir, and I don't have the math yet to understand some of the more esoteric aspects, but I know how to use the scopes here on the boat and how to take measurements with the spectrograph and other instruments. I don't know much astrogation yet. I'm just getting into it, and the xenomicrobiology has to take first place. Our lives depend on that and...” his voice trailed off as he realized he might be dramatizing his work more than was justified.
"That's not putting it too finely, I suppose, but being able to find our way home is equally dependent on the talents of our astrogators. Which is the reason why you and Waters are here.” He folded his hands together and propped his chin on them. “I want you both to begin spending an extra hour or two a day studying astrogation under Lieutenant Commander Chambers or Lieutenant Whistler, our regular astrogaor."
Jeremy exchanged glances with Jana and saw that she was as surprised as he was.
"Questions?"
Since Jana didn't appear willing to speak, Jeremy decided to do so.
"Sir, I'm all for learning. I'm just curious about why."
"Isn't it obvious? Sam Johnston had five or six astrogators. There were plenty of replacements in case something happened to one of them. Here we have exactly two, and Lieutenant commander Chambers is here simply by our good fortune. And hers, I suppose,” he added with a chuckle. “You know what the casualty rate is among explorers. Ordinarily, we would have been heading home in Sam Johnston soon and been there within a few months. Now ... we have a long way to go and a lot of stops. If both astrogaters happened to be ... lost, shall we say ... we'd be out of luck. That's why I want both of you two to begin training. Not to put too fine a point on it, but both of you are going to be backups to Lieutenant Whistler and Lieutenant Commander Chambers."
"Yes, sir. When do we start?"
"I'll let the astrogators set up the classes. You'll be notified. Costa, you'll work primarily with Lieutenant Commander Chambers. Waters, you'll be assigned to Lieutenant Whistler."
Jeremy nodded, glad he'd drawn the pretty astrogator, if for no other reason than she was nice to look at and his limited experience with her made him think she would be easy to get along with. The way she smiled at him had something to do with it, too.
"There's one more thing. When you begin practicing with the boat's instruments, you'll be in the control room and in company with most of our officers at one time or another. You may overhear conversations that aren't meant for the rest of the crew. I'm giving you an order right now: do not, do not repeat anything you hear to your crewmates. Is that clearly understood?"
"Yes, sir!” Jeremy exclaimed in unison with Jana. The way the Skipper was looking at him, he decided he'd rather be keelhauled in vacuum than ever let slip what he might overhear.
"Fine. That will be all for now. The astrogators will be in touch with you. Dismissed."
Jeremy walked back toward the detail he'd been on with Jana. He was pretty much speechless while thinking over what he'd been told and remembering the grim expressions on the face of the officers. They must feel as overwhelmed as he did about the prospects of getting home, he decided, but they seemed determined to be about it. And while they appeared to be very serious, not one of them looked scared. It gave him hope that they really might make it back to Earth.
The new duty sounded good, too. It would be exciting to be in the control room among the officers and see how things were done there. Working with the pretty astrogator ought to be nice, too. She seemed to be a friendly sort—not like some officers. Lieutenant Whistler, the other astrogator, came to mind. Every time he saw Whistler, the man looked as if he was mad at the world. He felt his spirits soar. Even with only a longboat, it didn't seem possible that he would never see Earth again, as some of the crew were saying. They weren't doomed. One way or another, they would make it home.
* * * *
"Look over the schematics on your Readers while the coffee brews,” COB Rufus Shinzyki said to the gathered Chiefs in their dayroom. While he was a Warrant Officer of long standing, he continued to be called Chief and sometimes to function as one. “That's how me and the Skipper and Lieutenant Wong figure we'll get the best use of our space over the time period we're looking at before we get back to Earth or one of the other home worlds.” He scanned the room to be sure everyone was present while the assembled Chiefs examined the prospective rearrangements of the interior of Hurricane Jack. Some of them were already under way, but others were still being considered. When the coffee was ready and cups had been filled, he projected a cutaway image of the three main decks of Hurricane Jack, splitting the screen to show top and side views of each. The schematics appeared as a life-like holograph with the temporarily unadorned wall of the Chiefs’ day room for background contrast.
The coffee pot had steamed the manufactured beans and condensed the vapor in record time. It now collected the residue and shuttled it back into a waste collector for recyling. It was a power hog, but if there was one thing spaceships and longboats had in excess, it was power—so long as they had water to break down into hydrogen.
"What's this space here going to be used for?” Sehai Hindhi, Chief of the Dragon Squad, asked. “It hasn't got anything in it.” He touched the image of that part of the boat with a light pointer and then zoomed in to show exactly what he meant.
"It will, eventually,” Shinzyki said. “Right now, I'm proposing to use it for storage of more food, if we can manage to rig up a cooling unit."
"You're thinking there'll be need?” Juan Martin asked. He was chief of the Tiger Squad. He was a small man, but there was nothing feminine about him except for his liquid brown eyes.
"Possibly. It would let us make fewer trips dirtside. The Skipper says we can also use it as a brig if we have to. We could move the food out pretty easily, or maybe just make half of it into a cooler and use the other half for a brig."
"A brig? You think we'll need one?"
"I hope not, but the Skipper reminded me again that this kind of trip in a longboat has never been attempted. There are going to be conflicts among our people sooner or later, and we'll have to have a place to let some of the hotheads cool off."
Before the silence could grow, he spoke again. “Look, I don't want to see anyone brigged, but that's part of what this meeting is about. We're crowded as a can of sardines. It didn't matter
when we had a big ship to sleep and work in, but it does now. We need to plan for the long term and give the officers our recommendations on everything from food distribution to how we plan on handling wear and tear on the boat."
"There's sure to be a lot of that,” Casey Dugan said. “And only one fabricator working. It's gonna be tough, keeping everything going for so long."
"Lieutenant Wong says he may be able to do something about the other fabricator eventually, but don't count on it soon. He's printing some circuits to bypass the defective shunt, but in the meantime I want each of you to impress on your people how important it's going to be to report any wear they see or anything they notice not working to specs. Even the smallest variation needs to be called to the attention of me and Lieutenant Wong and his crew. I know maintenance is ordinarily the job of the boat crew, but you explorers are going to have to help now. Impress on your troops that spare parts are limited, our only working fabricator is small, and we're a long, long way from home."
"I take it that also means don't throw anything away, either,” Casey said. She played with the end of one of the braids of her blond hair, sifting the strands through her fingers as if looking for a bothersome tangle.
"Right. Nothing, not even a broken nail file. We don't have that big a store of chemicals and elements to draw on to feed the recycler and fabricator, and you all know that some of the systems we'll likely stop at won't have anything close to compatible life."
Juan Martin looked down at his Reader and projected an image of “Cabin Row” for all to see. It ran half the length of the bottom deck of the ship, referred to as Lodeck, one word, just as the others were called Mideck and Topdeck.
"We've got over a dozen vacant cabins from when we lost that fire team on Snyder's World and from when our guys in the scout were lost. Can we use them for something?"
"Yup. Anybody got ideas here?” Shinzyki was glad to see them thinking. He intended to get everyone on the boat, spacers and explorers, officers, chiefs and enlisted all working together and concentrating on making the best home possible of the boat. He wanted them to be aware all the time of how dependent they were on Hurricane Jack and its efficient operation. The boat's name came from way back in history, so the story went, of a man who had survived a hurricane and had been buried in rubble for three weeks. The man had obviously been a survivor. Right now, Shinzyki was glad his boat had taken the name. If ever a boat needed to survive, Hurricane Jack did.
"How about a game room or a gym?” Casey suggested.
Shinzyki grinned. “I'd bet on a gym if you made the decision, Casey.” Everyone knew how much she had worked out in the ship with exercise equipment and with sparring partners to keep up her advanced rating in hand-to-hand combat. She sparred with Juanita Martinez and one of the officers. Her expertise was one of the many reasons that not many people mentioned bedroom eyes to her face.
"What's wrong with a gym? We're all gonna get soft staying in the boat for so long if we don't exercise,” she replied.
"I agree, we need a gym,” he said, “but it would be sort of noisy being in cabin row, wouldn't it?"
"There're other kinds of noises that go on there already, Chief."
Everyone laughed. The cabin walls weren't that well insulated, and couples had been known to use them for more than sleeping when the boat was down on a planet for more than a couple of days.
"Yeah, and there'll be lots more of them now, Casey. Still, you had a good idea. How about it, the rest of you?"
"You said something about a game room, Casey. Did you mean physical games or virtual?"
"Hmmm ... either one. Both. Chances are we'll have room for both game rooms and a big gym before it's over with."
She didn't have to say anything else. Exploration was an inherently dangerous job, and new planets had almost infinite ways to kill, with or without warning.
"Okay, but right now?"
"How about we alternate until we can shake loose more room?” Martin suggested. “Besides, Casey doesn't have any of the exercise machines like there were in the ship."
"Can we ... no, scratch that. Do we have the materials to fabricate some equipment, Chief?” Casey asked.
"Maybe. How about you drawing up plans for something simple and easy to tear down and set up? Something not too advanced so everyone can use it."
She grinned. “I can probably do better than that. I suspect there are some diagrams in my Reader I can copy from."
"Only Casey would carry around schematics of exercise machines in her Reader!” Hindhi said with a sly smile.
She raised a brow. “Shall we look in your Reader and see what you have in it?"
His face reddened but he laughed. “Point."
"Okay, that's done for now,” Shinzyki ruled. “We'll alternate at first, and then make a separate gym and game room later. You'll have to draw up a schedule for your people so everyone doesn't crowd in at once, but Casey has the right idea. We're going to need to exercise. I want you to monitor your troops and see that everyone gets a basic minimum. We'll rotate the squads. Coyote first, Dragon second, Tiger last. Let's move on."
He ranged the table with his gaze, wanting to draw them out further. They were off to a good start.
"How about cross-training? Seems like this would be a good opportunity for those wanting to expand their minds,” Hindhi said. He smoothed his thin mustache with a thumb and finger. “It would keep them occupied, too."
"Good point. Check around and find out who's willing to teach and we'll set up classes, but try to concentrate on the subjects we're likely to need most. Bear in mind the extra time we're going to spend on maintenance."
"Which ones, Chief?” Casey asked innocently.
Shinzyki opened his mouth, and then closed it without speaking. It wasn't from being referred to as Chief instead of Mister, the correct honorific since he was a Warrant Officer. Everyone called him Chief, even the Skipper. He heard a chuckle that spread around the table.
"Good question, huh?"
"Yeah, you pronged me, Casey.” There had been an ongoing debate for years on what was the most important specialty in the business of exploration and survival but never a consensus. “Anyway, what used to be the most important when we were in the ship might not be when all we have is a longboat. Let's talk about it. Which specialties are the most important now? Anyone?"
"Microbiology."
"Astrogation."
"Nanotechnology."
"Weapons."
"Macrobiology."
"Engineering."
Shinsyki held up his hands wand waved them. “Hold it, hold it. Hell, we all know the specialties. Let's concentrate on the boat. If it falls to pieces, we're all dead. What's the most important there?"
"Engineering, then."
"Materials science."
"Astrogation. We still have to find our way home."
"Forget astrogation. The Skipper's got that covered already. It was the first thing he thought of. He's got Costa and Waters banging their Readers with the astrogators."
"Medicine. What if we catch a plague or one of our own bugs mutates and our nannites don't work on it?"
"Good thought,” Shinzyki agreed, “although that doesn't happen very often. Too bad we didn't get the surgeon aboard, but that doesn't help us now. Are any of your people into medicine at all?"
"Jerry Simpson has a med specialty as his secondary, and I think Mister Dumas had a med specialty before she got the Dragon squad,” Chief Hindhi said. “I think Simpson's is just emergency medicine. I don't know about Mr. Dumas.
"Find out how much medical literature we have in our computer and get Simpson lined up for a lot of study. I'll speak to Erica—to Mister Dumas—and see how far she went before taking over a squad. I think she'll probably agree to start refresher training.” All the explorer officers were called Mister and answered to as sir regardless of gender.
"Thanks, Hindhi. You people are thinking now."
"I've been working with nanotech some
on this trip, Chief. Maybe I could help Mr. Wong with his repairs of the other fabricator."
"He could use some help. If you get it working, ask him to make us some Jamaica Blue Ridge coffee instead of this stuff."
"I can always ask.” Everyone knew Shinzyki was joking about his coffee—or thought he was.
"Okay, what next?"
"What are we going to do about laundry, Chief?” Casey asked. “Our cammies are pretty well self cleaning, but that doesn't cover socks and underwear. I can smell Sehai's right through the cabin wall.” She grinned at him.
"That's nothing compared to Juan's so-called deodorant. That stuff would run a rat out of a cabin."
Shinzyki let them banter for a moment, before rapping his knuckles on the table. “I'll speak to Lieutenant Wong and see how much water we can spare. In the meantime, air your things out in a cargo bay. We've only got a few days until we come out of hyper. If we're lucky, we'll find a place with enough water to bathe and wash clothes. What else?"
"How about promotions?” Casey asked. “Sam Johnston sure as hell can't approve them now, and longboat officers aren't authorized."
"Now that's one I hadn't thought of,” Shinzyki admitted. “Promotions are a morale factor, too. Suggestions?"
"How about recommending to the Skipper that he allow brevet promotions?” Dumas said. “Once we're back, I'd bet that headquarters will approve them."
Nods greeted his proposal, and Shinzyki added it to his notes. He glanced at his watch. “We've been at this long enough for now. It's a good start though, so let's plan on a weekly get together, same day and same time unless you hear different or we're dirtside. Any last questions, comments?"
"Yes,” Casey said, fingering a braid. “When you talk to Lieutenant Wong, ask about fabricating some shampoo if he turns loose some water. Otherwise I'll have to cut my hair."
"I'll try,” Shinzyki said, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. He and Casey had known each other for years, and when they'd both been Chiefs they had become rather close. They hadn't slept together, but their friendship had been trending that way, until he had finally been forced to take a promotion from Master Chief to Warrant. Theoretically, that put them off limits to each other. They had reluctantly decided to end their affair before it had really begun, but now ... hell, they were going to be living practically in each other's lap for two years and probably more. He didn't know how they were going to handle the relationship, but he was smart enough to know that it was likely to become a problem. She caught his eye as the chiefs filed out of the room, and he winked at her. It made him even more uncomfortable about what their future held. Goddamn bastard Monkeyclaws.