Ariticle Six

by C. T. Christensen

  “Good aftern-, whatever it is, sir.”

  She wiped her face and eyes with a dirty rag and returned to attention.

  “It’s about 0330 hours ship time Petty Officer; not that it really matters.”

  He stepped down to ground level where she stood and looked her over. Her hair was a mess, her ship suit was wrinkled and had grease on it, and her boots hadn’t seen polish in at least a month. The worst part was that she smelled bad. Wills circled her like a predatory drill sergeant, and the wisp of a thought went through his head that he was doing a Katrin Jordan. “Petty Officer Second-Class Edwards isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir; Anaya Edwards, sir.”

  “What is your duty assignment Petty Officer?”

  “Sir, I am a grav tech first-class assigned to floater maintenance.”

  “Are you rated to fly a floater?”

  “Yes, sir; I have a second class rating.”

  “How many hours?”

  “Sir, I have 1,342 hours.”

  Wills eyebrows went up at that; that was a lot of hours for a second class rating, “Did you pass your instrument test?”

  “Yes, sir, perfect score.”

  His eyebrows went up even further and then back down to a narrow-eyed suspicious look as he leaned in closer to her left ear, “And why do you have only a second class rating and a second class rank? Did you do something to get busted?”

  It was obvious that the rigid petty officer was nervous about her answer, but she plowed ahead anyway, “Ah . . . well . . . sir, things on Archer are . . . slow. Check rides are hard to arrange.”

  That answer amounted to a slap in the face if it had been delivered to the commanding officer of Archer. Wills stood back erect as he recovered from the sting. A moment later, he leaned back, “Tell me, Petty Officer Edwards, if your check ride were to be given right now, how much difficulty would you have passing it?”

  This time, she turned her head and eyes to look into his, “No difficulty at all, sir; a mere formality.”

  There was a challenge in her tone and look. Wills knew that he had touched a subject of great pride for Edwards. He stood back up and looked past her at the four floaters sitting fifty meters from them, “Give me your opinion on those four floaters; which of them would be your preference to fly?”

  That lifted a questioning eyebrow, but she didn’t even turn to look, “All of them are in good shape, sir, but from the standpoint of comfort and equipment quality I would pick the one from the Gregory Falls.”

  Wills nodded; he had a feeling that would be her choice. He looked back down at her, “Effective immediately, you are promoted to Petty Officer First-Class and are awarded a First-Class floater pilot rating under the rule of field necessity. Also effective immediately, you are assigned as my personal pilot. I will be making regular trips to the other towns for inspection purposes. You will have yourself and your ship ready at all times other than my normal bridge watch of 1800 to 2400 hours”

  That got both her eyebrows high over wide eyes.

  “However Petty Officer First-Class Edwards,” he began that circling, scowling inspection again, “you are a mess; you even smell bad. You are not what any respectable person above the rank of bilge rat would want as a personal aide. I will give you forty-five minutes to clean up, get proper rank insignia on your sleeve, and get back down here for our first inspection trip. DO I HEAR A ‘CAN DO’ PETTY OFFICER?”

  He shouted that last right into her face.

  “SIR, YES SIR, CAN DO, SIR!”

  And she was gone at a run. He checked the ship’s time display on his com pad before turning to walk toward the floaters.

  #

  It was quiet out here--no, it was QUIET out here. He stopped and looked all around him. There were fires burning in the streets of Watts, but he couldn’t hear them from here. The game field was abandoned; the lights of the Weasel were no longer sufficient to enable anyone to withstand the blackness that surrounded the ship. People needed walls to hold out the night.

  He lifted his com pad and tapped the call address for CeCe.

  “Yes, Admiral, what can I do for you? I thought you would have been asleep by now.”

  “Sleep is something that eludes me and most of the people I have seen this . . . ahh . . . ,” he looked out over the ocean that was as black as what used to be the sky, “night. I just called to see if anything critical has come up.”

  Wills could hear her smile, “No, sir; nothing critical has come up since you went off watch. Given the edge we are teetering on, I’m going to have to say that is a good thing.”

  He smiled too, “I guess that’s true. However, I wanted to inform you that I have hired a personal pilot, and, as soon as she gets back down here, I am going to make an inspection trip out to one of the towns.”

  “Well, good; you haven’t done that in a few weeks. You say you ‘hired’ someone?”

  “I found PO Edwards down on the strut platform. She was a mess and crying. So I gave her the full drill instructor treatment and then promoted her. She’s cleaning herself up now and we’ll be leaving in a bit. I need something else to do and town inspections looked like a good idea. For now, I want you to enter a promotion for Anaya Edwards to Petty Officer First-Class and change her floater pilot rating to first-class due to field requirement effective 0330 hours ship time this day.”

  “Right, sir; doing that now; I hope you will be including me in some of those trips.”

  “I will; you and a few others.”

  Talking to CeCe kept him from having to regard the deadness around him until Edwards arrived, “Looks like my driver is here; I’ll call later.”

  “Right, Admiral.”

  He cut the connection and checked the time display, “Hmm, forty-one minutes; very good.”

  Edwards came to attention and saluted. Wills returned the salute and began another critical inspection. Her ship suit wasn’t new, but it was clean and unwrinkled. He noted her hair had been pulled back and tucked under a work cap. Boots were shined, a slight touch of makeup, and . . . she smelled sort of like a pine tree. Not bad!

  “I must admit I’m slightly surprised that you were able to find PO1 rank insignia on such short notice. They look new.”

  “They are, sir; I’ve had them for over two years now; I believe that could be called either wishful thinking or astute planning depending on your point of view.”

  “Let’s call it astute planning for now. Now, I would like you to pick a town for me to visit. I have no agenda in mind so I’ll go with whatever feels good to you.”

  She turned her head to look at him, “Well…the Jordans were here a little before you arrived, sir; they said they were headed for H, I, and J.”

  Wills thought about crossing paths with Katrin again. He looked down at Edwards, “By any chance did they come across you down here on their way out?”

  She let out a long breath through an annoyed expression. “Yes, sir.” came out of clenched teeth.

  Wills shouldn’t have, but he smiled anyway, “How did that go?”

  “Like the worst part of basic training and Petty Officer Command School, sir.”

  Wills nodded thoughtfully, “Yeah, she gives me flashbacks too; what say we track them down and see if we can annoy them?”

  Now she smiled up at him, “Ready anytime you are, sir.”

  #

  The Gregory Falls floater--like all of the other floaters--had been retrofitted with a fan of powerful light panels that faced outward and down from the edge of the grav plate apron all around the ship and from under the nose. The relative delicacy of the installation required a severe limitation in top speed in the atmosphere but, for current operations, that did not present a great restriction. Besides, it was the only way to see the miles of ground between the clusters of bonfires and battery powered light systems that marked the towns along the rail system.

  Navigation would not have been a problem without the lights; array imaging, inertial, and ranging from a beacon
on the Weasel gave positioning information down to within centimeters. But, being able to see something always took precedence over using the cool gear that all of the floaters were equipped with.

  They followed the rail line on the north side of the river; these towns had letter designations from A to X while those on the south side of the river were labeled 1 to 29. Wills watched the dead, leafless trees sweep by below them as they cruised up the tracks. Jordan’s floater had not been in H so they had flown by and were now looking at the fires of I.

  “There it is, sir.”

  Another Gregory Falls floater sat in a small open area near the center of town that was lit with two of the linear battery light panels from the Weasel. Wills figured it had once served as a park for the locals; now it was just a dead spot. The core of the town consisted of around fifty buildings constructed of wood, brick, and stone with no apparent rhyme or reason; the population was believed to be in the area of 4,000 with that many or a bit more in the surrounding farm communities.

  Nothing moved on the streets, and Wills doubted that the glare of their lights had attracted any attention as they settled next to the other floater. Stepping down to the ground only firmed up his suspicion that their arrival went unnoticed. He and Edwards stood in the center of the street and looked at unattended bonfires at both ends of it and a glow that seemed to come out of every window they could see.

  He swept a finger around the windows, “I detect a reluctance to turn out the lights.”

  She gave him an embarrassed look, “Sir, I find myself leaving the lights on in my quarters while I just sit in my bunk with my arms around my knees and try to close my eyes.”

  Wills gave her a sympathetic look, “I’m not that far gone, but I have to confess that this eternal night is really beginning to annoy me.”

  Edwards pointed down the street, “Sir, I think there is some activity down there.”

  Wills looked and saw the flickering of light on a large, lower level window that indicated movement inside, “Okay, we start there.”

  The street was a hard surface just like the streets in all of the towns; Wills had come to the conclusion that it was some sort of do-it-yourself concrete equivalent with a wide mixture of aggregate showing on the surface. There were no walkways along the edges of the streets unless you counted the individual porch-like structures and stairs that some of the buildings had. The building they were approaching was what served as a general meeting place and could hold several hundred people. If more space was required, the meeting would be held in the game field that every town seemed to have. As they reached the wood deck that fronted this building, they stopped to look at the Forester that was lying in the street next to the deck.

  “Is he dead, sir?”

  Wills knelt down next to the body where he could see that he was breathing and picked up the ceramic mug that was lying next to him. One sniff of the mug answered Edwards’ question. He returned to his feet, “Yes, dead drunk.”

  She had a worried expression on her face, “Is there something we should do for him, sir?”

  Wills looked around at the petrified night, “No, let him sleep it off; it’ll be a few hours he won’t have to remember.”

  He turned to face her with a scowl on his face, “You have a bad habit Edwards.”

  There was obvious alarm in her expression and voice, “Sir? What bad habit, sir?”

  “You stick the word ‘sir’ into everything you say; sometimes more than once.”

  “I do, sir?”

  He smiled at her startled look, “Yes, you do; try to suppress the urge when we’re alone. You can call me ‘Admiral’ occasionally.”

  A smile returned to her face, “Yes, sir; will do, sir.” The smile vanished, “I’ll try . . . Admiral.”

  He nodded, “Better!”

  Wills lifted the heavy wood latch bar on the door and pushed it in; it swung easily and quietly on the two large wood hinges. Bernard and Katrin Jordan were the focus of a group of only about fifty Foresters in the far corner. The shade panels covered the inside of the windows and every flat surface had at least one of the glass, vegetable oil burning lamps augmenting the weak illumination from the four electric bulbs that hung from the ceiling. The place smelled like an Italian kitchen.

  The first to notice them was CPO Warren, the Jordan’s pilot; he was standing well to the side of the group and turned to salute Wills. This caused the Jordans to notice, followed by the rest of the group. Wills returned the salute as he walked past the Chief Petty Officer. He noticed that the Chief was wearing a battery-pack belt that was attached to the half meter long stun-wand that was cleverly hidden in a slim, non-standard pocket attached to the upper part of his right leg. Apparently the Jordans had an appreciation for reality and the possibility that someone might try to take their frustrations out on the nearest representative of the New Order.

  Wills stepped up to join the Jordans in front of the group while Edwards stayed to the side with Warren, “Good morning, Doctors; I thought I might take a little trip up the line.”

  They both smiled, “Gut mor-r-ning, Admir-r-al; your-r pr-r-esence es most velcome.”

  Bernard stepped forward and shook his hand, “It is, indeed, very good to see you here, Admiral; let me introduce you to the leaders of I.”

  This was Wills first trip to I, so he had never met any of these Foresters before. He soon found that they were a much more cooperative group than Joe and his entourage. The purpose of this meeting was more of a check for any major problems and to deliver the usual pep-talk.

  Wills found himself giving that pep-talk instead of the Jordans, “On my home planet and on many of the planets humans occupy, the tilt of the planet creates a regular situation near the poles of those planets where there is a period of extended darkness. Here on your planet, the tilt is small and none of your people live near the poles, so you have never seen anything like this.”

  He leaned back in his chair and smiled, “Actually, this is far worse; at least we were able to see the stars and the Aurora.”

  “What is aurora?”

  That stopped Wills in his tracks; he had forgotten that one of the prime reasons he was even here was the lack of a mechanism for creating those spectacular displays. By the time he had finished describing them, he was looking into a wall of wide-eyed wonder.

  “Will our new home have these aurora?”

  “Well . . . yes, it probably will; it is difficult to find an Earth-like planet that doesn’t. You just happened to get lucky here on Forest.”

  #

  Most of the group stayed in the building when they left. Katrin was giving Edwards a close look as they all stood on the deck in front of the building.

  “Zo, Petty Officer-r Edwar-r-ds. I appr-r-oof uf your-r new look. I tr-r-ust I vill not haf to r-remind you to take a shower-r again?”

  Again, through clenched teeth, “No, ma’am; that will not be necessary.”

  Katrin ran a slow, jaundiced eye over her once more, “Gut . . . das tut gut!”

  The Jordans and Chief Warren strode energetically toward their floater.

  “Stop grinding your teeth, Edwards, deep breath now.”

  The town leader and three others exited the building when they saw the Jordans leave, “Admiral, will you tell us something?”

  Wills turned, “If I can, I will.”

  “Why do you send that woman to torment us?”

  Wills barely managed to suppress a laugh, “We can’t stand her either; when she is bothering you, she is not bothering us.”

  The flight back to the Weasel was a series of giggle spasms caused by the memory of the four Foresters doubled over with laughter.

  #

  Wills stopped and turned to face Edwards at the loading ramp, “The next couple of months are going to be the worst of our lives. Every one of us is going to have to make an effort to stay sharp. That floater is now yours, and I expect it to be ready on ten minutes notice. I expect you to be ready at the same time.” He
leaned down and stuck a finger in her face, “You are to be pressed and polished at all times, and you are to be a worthy example of the people I have around me. Is that clear Petty Officer?”

  She was already braced at attention, “Yes, Admiral; that is totally clear.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder and fixed his eyes on hers, “There will be glory and honor at the end of this day. When we stand in front of our people and speak of this time, I want nothing but pride in our voices.”

  He returned her salute and they started up the ramp, “Okay, now I think I can get some sleep. There’s a long day ahead.”

  ##

  Wills carefully checked himself in the full-length mirror. A fresh haircut, a close shave, and a shower went well with his best duty dress white uniform; the only problem was the loose fit and the bags under his eyes. He leaned closer to the mirror, turned his head slightly, and stroked a finger down one cheek. He finally had to admit that his skin was looking his age. Nothing that a week’s worth of sleep wouldn’t fix, he thought, hopefully.

  He exited his quarters at 0422 hours ship time; it was one hour before breakout at Mallcott. He was surprised to see Stoker, Ames, Twisst, Treelam, Kraigor, and Bonn assembled in the observer seating area. They stood as he approached.

  “I thought I ordered all of you off the ship. Your presence here is not necessary and may be dangerous for you.”

  Stoker took a step forward, “We all feel deeply invested in this venture and consider ourselves to be part of the crew. Therefore, our place is here.”

  Wills looked from face to face and saw the same solid commitment along with the signs of long-term stress and exhaustion that he had seen in his mirror, “Take your seats ladies and gentlemen; this may be a bumpy ride.”

  CeCe was standing next to the command console and saluted as he turned toward her; he smiled and returned the salute. He saw that she was just as well dressed and groomed as he was. The unfortunate part was that stress and exhaustion looked even less becoming on her than it did on him.