It was my turn to stop and turn her to face me. “Do they all have living rooms?”
“No.” She laughed. “Some of them are more like the Lois, but if you changed your mind about your picture of trader families, you musta felt like you were stepping into a dreamscape. Off the dock and into the living room, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“Most common small ship configuration. If you’re docked, you don’t wanna have to go far to answer the front door bell should anybody come to call. Did you see the bridge?” she asked.
“No, didn’t get past the living room.”
“It’s usually outfitted like a kind of den. It’s where the family spends most of its time underway. Of course, the smaller ships have less time underway too.” She looked up at me, then and asked, “So is that why you’re thinking of going to the academy? Gonna start your own spacer family?”
The way she said it made me chuckle. “I didn’t even know what that meant until last night. The captain and Mr. von Ickles have been trying to convince me to go for the last three months.”
“Really? How’d the captain get involved?”
“I’m not sure. We were talking about the possibility of my having to leave the Lois, and she asked if I’d considered going to the academy and it just kinda went from there.”
“So? You’re thinking about it or not?”
“I told the captain that I wanted to stay with the Lois and at least work my contract out. It’ll be up this time next August and if I still like being in space and I think I’d like to continue, I’ll consider going.”
“What’s the hang-up? You not sure you want to continue being a spacer?”
“No. Actually, at this point I can’t imagine being anything else, but I’ve got about sixty thousand good reasons why I can’t go.”
“Sixty thousand? Gah!” she said. “I had no idea it was that expensive.”
“Tuition alone is forty, but I need room and board too.”
She nodded and hugged my arm again. I felt no need to talk a lot more after that. She held on until we got on the lift.
“So, you come from a spacer family, too?” I asked.
“Yup. Grew up in a merchie co-op. I left to get some seasoning and haven’t gone back yet. Someday, maybe,”
I just sighed and shook my head.
“What?”
“It’s just—I never realized how closed the community is. You almost have to be born into it.”
“Or luck into it like you and Sarah. Yeah. But it’s not that much different from any specialized trade. Doctors tend to breed doctors. Teachers tend to breed teachers. You probably would have been a professor if you’d had a chance.”
I appreciated that she didn’t say, “If your mother hadn’t died.”
The lift opened and we went across the docks heading for the ship. “Thanks for going with me, Bev. I really needed to touch base with you.”
“Any time, boy toy,” she teased. She was absolutely serious as she keyed the lock open and said, “And I needed to touch base too, thanks, Ish.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Niol Orbital
2352-August-17
On watch, I couldn’t concentrate on the logs. I really needed to extract the data for the systems that had restarted normally and add a new layer to my graphic but my whole image of the lonely spacer, tragically bereft of hearth and home, had been ripped from me in just one day.
Salina asked, “Are you okay, Ish?”
I turned my chair so I could face her where she sat at the console. “It’s just been such a weird day—meeting Pip’s aunt and uncle last night and seeing how they lived shipboard, finding out that you were married and have your daughter with you here, discovering that I’m much more of an outsider than I ever thought, it’s a bit much to process.” I sighed. “I guess I’m having trouble adjusting to the idea that spacers have real lives like anybody else. I had this whole notion of ‘spacer bar, love em and leave em, and don’t screw with the crew’ so ingrained in my head that, now, I’m feeling like I don’t really understand anything.”
“Well, that’s a start. You can’t possibly understand what it means to somebody like Pip to be a spacer when his father, mother, grandparents, and their parents all have been spacers. But you also need to figure out a way to realize that you not knowing is okay.”
I had to process that for a few ticks. “I think that helped actually.”
“Okay…in what way?”
“You made me realize something that I knew but never really grasped before. For all of you, it’s a connection to your past, to a heritage.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“One of the problems I’m having is that I don’t have that kind of connection—any heritage—even before I came out here. It was always just me and my mother. She was a teacher. I have a vague recollection of my father, but I haven’t seen him or heard from him in fifteen stanyers. I never even knew who my grandparents were, let alone what they might have done. I’m an only child so I don’t know any of this sibling stuff and how it works. Hell, I never had a best friend until I came aboard the Lois.”
“Well, you poor thing. No wonder you’re so lost! Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I think you just did. I need to think on it, but thanks.”
I turned back to my console then and found that I was able to concentrate. By the time the watch was over, I had all the data extracted and a first cut on the reconstruction to show Mr. von Ickles. I sent a copy to Mr. Kelley as well before Salina and I headed for the mess deck. It still caught me a little bit sideways to think that she was hurrying down to have breakfast with her daughter, but the longer I thought about it, the more I liked it.
I remembered one of my mom’s old stories about a sailor who wound up in a foreign land and slowly came to love and respect the people of this new home even more than those of his birth. He had to learn a new language and new ways of thinking, but eventually he figured out how to get along, and he really started to enjoy that life. Unfortunately, somebody killed him in the end because he was too happy or successful or something. Except for that last bit about being killed, I had an idea of what he must have felt like when he realized the full depth and scope of his adopted culture. I was not sure what word to put on it. Hope, maybe.
All through breakfast I watched Salina and Jennifer. Once you knew, it was obvious. Or perhaps it had always been obvious and I had just too wrapped up in other things to notice. Or, most likely, they had been on the other side of the watch stander merry-go-round and I never had the opportunity to notice them at all.
One thing was for sure, after slogging through data for twelve hours, I needed a little quality time with my bunk and a blanket. As soon as I finished my breakfast, I headed that way.
Something woke me suddenly and I almost sat up. I was that startled, and it’s not a good thing to do from a lower bunk so I was glad I had suppressed the urge. I never found out what it was—sound, dream, or maybe an odd vibration in the hull. Maybe Lois just thinks I should get up, I told myself with a little grin. The chrono read 15:20 and I wondered how Pip was making out at the flea market.
I didn’t have anywhere I needed to be, so I just laid back down and stared at the over head there in the quiet of the afternoon. I thought I could hear the low murmuring of Sean, Sarah, and Tabitha down at the other end of the berthing area. They were the main members of the co-ed crochet team and had some project going on that excited them. I lay there and thought about Aunt P and Uncle Q. I had never thought of life on the Lois as particularly regimented, but compared to the Penny, we were practically military. I wondered what it would be like to sail your living room. I must have fallen back to sleep at some point because I woke from a dream of sitting in an easy chair on the bridge of some ship with an old-fashioned spoked ship’s wheel. Bev was there in her leathers but she didn’t have a blouse on under the jacket, which I enjoyed a great deal. She was saying, “You gonna sleep away your last
night in port, Ish?”
But of course, that was wrong because Bev was actually there in berthing standing over my bunk saying, “You gonna sleep away your last night in port, Ish?” She was already in her leathers and I was disappointed that she had a blouse on under the jacket. It took me a bit to get my eyes blinked open.
“No. What time is it?”
“Just coming up on 19:00. What do ya think? You wanna go out hunting?”
“Sure, just lemme grab a quick shower and I’ll put on my civvies.”
“Quarter stan, main lock,” she said, and left.
Pip was just coming out of the san, as I was going in. He was getting ready too. Apparently we were going out as a group and I wondered who else was coming along. “Did ya buy anything?” I asked in passing.
“Yup, we’ve got close to fifty kilos of stuff. Shower now, talk later.” He started pulling clothes out of his locker while I headed for the shower stall with my jeans and briefs in hand.
Ten ticks later, Pip and I headed for the lock and our last night in Niol.
Diane, Brill, Bev, and Francis were waiting and they were having one of those I-do-not-know-what-do-you-wanna-do discussions.
We checked out with Rhon and headed out to the docks. In spite of what Bev had said, nobody looked like they were on the hunt tonight. Maybe they had gotten it out of their systems earlier in the stay, or maybe, like me, they just were not in the mood.
We hit the lift and punched oh-two by default, but as we headed down, I asked, “Okay? Meat market or something else?”
Pip looked at me sideways, but he sighed and raised his right hand. “Something else.”
One by one, they all raised their hands. “Something else.” Brill looked relieved. Francis just looked tired, and I wondered what he had been up to in port.
When we got to the oh-two, I took them to Shaunessey’s. While it was still early according to ship time, station time here was a bit ahead so Shaunessey’s was in full swing. Or as full as the quiet pub got. There was some music coming from somewhere but all I could tell was that it was music. It was busy but far from full and we had no problem putting a couple of tables together so we could sit in a group.
I ordered some finger foods to go with the beer because I’d missed lunch and dinner and didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach. We settled down and began a quiet evening of talk. Francis turned out to be quite amusing in his own way. Having known more than my share of Ph.D.’s he was probably funnier to me than the rest of the group, but he acted as a kind of bridge for me between my old life and my new one.
We had been there about a stan and were working on our second round when Pip stiffened and I heard a woman’s voice say, “Hello! Can we join you?”
Pip was a little tangled at the back of the table so I stood and introduced Aunt P and Uncle Q to everyone. I enjoyed Pip’s discomfort much more than I should have, but if we had seemed like family before, having real family at the table just enhanced the notion. They started telling stories of spacer life and kids. Penny and Quentin did not embarrass Pip by talking about his childhood. They stuck to stories about Roger and Pip’s siblings. Diane mentioned how kids on their co-op ship used to sneak into the lifeboats to neck, until their captain played the holo-tapes of their make out sessions during the evening meal. Even Brill, normally a bit of a wall flower had some funny stories about the conflicts in lifestyle between her station manager father and spacer mom. I just absorbed it, thinking about what their stories might mean to them and to me.
Eventually the table talk fragmented and we had quiet conversations in smaller groups on different corners of the table. I found myself talking about the academy to Francis and suggested that they should probably have a Ph.D. in astrophysicist on the faculty. Of course, by then we had been through a lot of beer. I was probably a tad less responsible than I should have been.
Through it all, Beverly sat beside me, Brill beside her. Diane had collected Pip, Quentin, and Penny on the other end of the table and I could see Pip was beginning to appreciate Diane for more than just her cleavage. She saw me looking and winked at me. It was a good group. Only five beers and I loved them all. I laughed at myself and checked the time on my tablet. It had just passed midnight.
I stood and everybody looked at me. “You guys stay if you want, but I have morning watch and I need a little sleep before I have to go to work. So, I bid you all goodnight.”
They all came with me, a few drained glasses and others just let them sit half empty. We all sauntered slowly back to the lift, through the throngs of spacers on the prowl and a few who had already connected. The lift took us up to the docks. We bid Penny and Quentin goodnight and safe voyage before splitting up and heading for the Lois. Penny gave me a small hug and a motherly peck on the cheek before she left—lovely woman, Penny Carstairs.
We walked along, semi huddled against the cold and I found myself holding one of Brill’s arms while Beverly held the other. Francis was leading the way, waving his arms like a drum major, while Diane cuddled up to Pip behind us. I didn’t know who was more surprised, Diane or Pip, but Brill smiled when she saw it and I did too.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Niol Orbital
2352-August-19
When I got to the bridge for morning watch, the pre-departure tension had already started to build. Mr. von Ickles took his place at the console beside me and we talked about the new simulation.
The data showed that the ship had shutdown systems and components just as the designers intended, and it had restored the systems according to specification. After that point, things started going wrong and the problems started in the aft boat deck. I hoped the data would mean something to Mr. Kelley.
We only had the watch for a short time before the captain came onto the bridge and the party started in earnest. I had enough experience in the systems console to run my own displays and Mr. von Ickles made no comment as I scanned first through the data integrity checks, then the high level diagnostics. I pulled the morning logs and got the virtual ship as ready for getting underway as the real one.
The tugs arrived, linking into our communications network and tying on their towing fields. The captain choreographed the whole extravaganza and, once more, it went off without a hitch. As we dropped back, I thought I saw the Penny docked but I could not be sure. At the designated distance, the tugs dropped their links and we came about, setting sail for the Deep Dark and Umber beyond.
As we secured from navigation detail and assumed normal watches, I turned to Mr. von Ickles. “I see what you mean about the first time, sar,” I said with a grin. “But it’s still quite a show.”
He smiled back at me. “Yes, it is, Mr. Wang. Yes, it is.”
I pulled up the failure display one last time to watch it run through. I let it loop, replaying the incident in my mind as the graphic ticked by. The other officers on the bridge came to look at it, even the captain. Mr. Kelley stood behind Mr. von Ickles, pulling on his lower lip with thumb and forefinger while staring at the looping display. There was something there, but we weren’t seeing it.
The simulation was on the third loop and I was staring dreamily at the place on the schematic that represented where I had been walking when the power went out. The gravity failed, sending me adrift, and when it came back on I slammed onto the deck.
“Gravity,” I said, and added, “sar.” when I realized I had spoken aloud.
They all looked at me. Mr. Kelley squinted his eyes in thought. “Keep going, Mr. Wang.”
“Gravity went out and the ship slewed a little, sar. It was enough that the field collector plates on all four scrubbers unseated and got sucked out of position before the power came back up.”
Mr. Kelley nodded, “I remember. Damnedest thing I’d ever seen.”
I pointed to the boat deck where the first sensor went dead. “We’ve assuming that something with the EMP killed this, sar, Right?”
“Yes, Mr. Wang. What else could it be?”
“What if something fell on it, broke it, and shorted it out? Would that have taken out all those systems, sar?” I asked Mr. Kelley.
“If something fell on it?” he asked. “But—” He leaned into the display.
Mr. von Ickles, Mr. Maxwell, and the captain all stared at the screen as well.
The captain ordered, “Freeze that, if you would, Mr. Wang, just before the point where the boat dock sensor fails.”
“Aye, Captain,” I said, and inched the display forward. until the frame directly before the component failure.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Mr. Kelley said in disgust.
The captain was shaking her head. “That can’t be right.”
“Right or not, that’s what happened unless Mr. Wang made a data error, Captain,” Mr. Kelley put in.
The captain said, “Mr. Wang, can you please double-check the status of the Systems Continuity Breakers at this point in time?”
“Yes, Captain.” I scrolled through the list of systems data. “The sensor grid for the SCB shut down normally when the power overrides took everything off-line, sar.”
“When did they come back online, Mr. Wang?”
“They didn’t, Captain. At least not within the window of this log data.”
Mr. Maxwell shook his head. “So all the fault breakers were offline?”
“Yup,” Mr. Kelley said. “The ship was wide open. When the systems cabinet failed, that’s probably all that kept us from having that spike rip right through the sail generators.”
“It’s so obvious!” Mr. Kelley said in disgust.
Mr. von Ickles looked startled at that and glanced at me with a grin.
“We were looking for some kind of EMP interference wave or a flaw in EMP shielding,” Mr. Kelley just shook his head. “I’m gonna be kicking myself for the next stanyer over this.”
The captain asked, “What fell on it to short it out? Was it from physical damage? Do we know?”
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