by Alan Black
“Hey! What gives, Lieutenant? I can’t leave this area. It is my duty station.”
Hammermill cracked open his visor so that he could speak directly to Stone. He said, “I know, Mister Stone. You haven’t left your station. You are still in the hatchway and can see everything going on in there. And I told Gunny on a marine secure link to keep an eye on your two guys.”
Stone shook his head. “I don’t-”
“Keep your voice down, Stone,” Hammermill interrupted. “This is just between you and me.”
Stone did not understand, but he nodded and said quietly, “Okay, Hammer. Just between us. What gives?”
“My rail-gun tech used a lot of technical mumbo-jumbo, but it all boiled down that the null spots in your anti-gravity conveyer weren’t normal wear and tear damage. He said it looked deliberate.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Stone was startled. He shouted, “Deliberate!”
Hammermill shook his head slightly. “Keep it down, Stone. We don’t know if either of your people were involved, so I wouldn’t let them know that you know. But, now you can keep your eyes open. Maybe review any security videos to see who, if anyone, was in the area.”
Stone’s voice almost croaked with high emotion while trying to keep the volume down. “Sabotage? Hammer, are you sure? I find that hard to believe. These guys are not a crack outfit, but I can’t imagine them deliberately damaging the ship.”
Hammermill shook his head. “That is what my guy says, but he said it looked more like someone was just trying to slow things down, not actually do any permanent damage.”
“But we run munitions across those rails. If we don’t feed the guns fast enough then we could lose the ship,” Stone said.
Hammermill held up a hand and listened to a communication through his suit that Stone could not hear. He nodded to Gunny.
“Hammer, is something wrong?” Stone asked.
“I don’t know yet, Stone.” Hammermill shook his head. “I just got a call from Hellboy. He says the guns in his area have begun firing. He has a call into Major Numos to see if he can find out what is going on. Gunny confirms the gun emplacements are showing ammo use.” He slammed his face shield down.
Stone almost leapt back to the consoles. “Rojo, report.”
“Mister Stone, according to these displays the munitions are being transferred to the bunkers without mishap,” Rojo answered.
“Spacer Rojo, I mean are the ship’s guns firing?” Stone asked.
Rojo shook his head. “I don’t know, Mister Stone. How am I supposed to know?”
Gunny stepped forward and pointed a massive finger at a display in front of Rojo. “See the number there, navy? You see this too, Ramirez? The whole column of numbers tells you the guns are expending ammo. We can’t tell if they are firing the guns or flushing the ammo down the toilet, but we can tell they are drawing stuff from their on-site bunkers.”
“I see that, but this number says the amount of ammo in the bunker is increasing,” Rojo replied.
Gunny looked over at Stone and Hammer. Even though he was still completely sealed in his combat suit with the face shield down, he seemed to be saying, “What are you gonna do?”
Stone scanned the numbers on the displays. “Gentlemen, it appears you are filling their bunkers faster than they can fire. Keep up the good work.”
Rojo grinned, but Ramirez looked puzzled.
“What if we send them too much?” Ramirez asked.
Stone applauded, his suit gloves clanging loudly. “Very good question, Spacer. The system is designed to quit filling the bunkers when they can’t take any more. If the program does mess up, then we just bring it back and store it here again. Plus, this program should automatically report all of the expendables sent to the bunkers so the procurement department can order more.”
“Well, why are we here if the computers do everything for us?” Ramirez asked, frustration evident in his voice.
“We are here because no system runs without making mistakes,” Stone answered. “No automated system can be designed to adapt to every unexpected or random event. We are here to watch and correct those mistakes.”
Rojo said, “It looks like the shooting is stopping or at least-”
Every communications unit in the room blared, interrupting Rojo. “End of live fire exercise. Secure all stations and stand down from general quarters.”
“Well, Spacer Rojo. It looks like you called it before they did. Great work!” Stone said. “Good work to both of you.” He turned to the marines. “And thanks to the marines. We couldn’t have done this without-”
Stone’s communications unit interrupted him. “Mister Stone, report to Lieutenant Vaarhoo’s office as soon as possible; duty uniform is required.” He wanted to properly thank the marines, but they were gone. Both spacers were looking at him expectantly.
“Gentlemen, this system should handle most of the required after action work. It has already sent many of those reports up the chain of command for us. What hasn’t been done can be done later. I should be able to get it done on third watch in…” He checked the time piece on the console. “About two hours from now.”
He was surprised. The general quarters exercise had taken longer than he remembered, but everything had gone so smoothly the time had flown by. There was not a whole lot of time before he was officially on duty for third shift. If Lieutenant Vaarhoo did not take too much time, he should be able to eat breakfast before reporting for duty; or was it lunch; or maybe lupper; or whatever it was called at this time of the day.
Rojo interrupted his thoughts. “Mister Stone, how did we do on the exercise? When will they tell you our score?”
Every spacer on his crew knew that his or her general quarter scores had been getting progressively worse. He had tried not to make a big deal of it other than to encourage them to make every general quarters call they possibly could. Still, everyone knew the better you did during the exercise, the better it reflected on your duty reports and the better it would be when getting promoted or assigned to your next duty station.
“We have to wait until the system finishes calculating and transferring all of the data before we can shut down power to the consoles,” Stone said. “It should take another couple of minutes. The last thing these new displays are designed to report is our score. I am going to wait until things shut down before changing and heading up to see the LT. You two are welcome to wait or you can get out of here.”
“I would like to stay. I would really like to see how we did,” Rojo said.
“Nah, not me,” Ramirez said. “I can find out later what score we got. I have dreams to get back to. Are you sure you should wait, Mister Stone? I heard your comm-call that Lieutenant Vaarhoo said to change and get up to him asap.”
“Thanks for watching out for me,” Stone smiled. “But ‘asap’ means as soon as I can, but it is doesn’t mean ‘on the double’. I still have to shut down here. Both of you can take tonight off. I will cover you and put you in the roster as excused absence on my authority. Great job, guys. Thanks. I mean it. Really good!”
Stone and Rojo watched Ramirez race out of the room and down the corridor. They turned their attention to the consoles and watched the displays begin to blink out. Each one shutting down automatically as it reached the end of its function and reporting.
“Can I ask a question Mister Stone?” Rojo spoke.
“Sure, Spacer Rojo. Fire away.”
“How come they don’t train us on programs like this in warehouse school? And how come we didn’t use this the last time?”
“I just finished putting this program together. I didn’t even have time to test it.” When Stone saw Rojo glance at him in amazement he added, “I didn’t write the thing. I borrowed the basic programming from a marine I know. I just made some minor adjustments to make it fit what we need it for. Honestly, I can’t be the first person to put something together like this, so I don’t know why the navy doesn’t use something similar.”
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“Well, Mister Stone, it looks like we gave it a pretty good test today.”
Stone grinned. “We did at that, didn’t we? So, now I need to take this program, write a few forms and send it up the chain of command for navy approval and then we can use it all of the time. Even other stations can adapt it to their needs. It is really a pretty easy program to modify. Heck, my folks work on a merchant freighter. I have already sent them a copy of the program for them to use.”
Rojo grinned back. ”Good thing you already sent a copy to your family. Once the navy get’s a hold of it they will classify it as a secret or something so nobody gets to use-”
A small chime drew their attention to the last display hovering on the bulkhead above the consoles. Everything else had shut down.
Rojo whistled. “Boy howdy…sorry, Mister Stone, I mean, that is some score!”
“Spacer Rojo, I think I agree,” Stone nodded his head in amazement. “However, it must be a glitch in the programming. I mean, we did well, but if the system calculates as 100% being perfect, how do we get to be better than perfect?”
Rojo just shrugged. “I don’t know, Mister Stone.”
Stone shrugged back. “I suppose I will find out from Lieutenant Vaarhoo. Let’s shut these consoles down, turn the lights out and get out of here.”
He was astonished at a score of 157%. He knew it had to be a glitch, but it was still nice to see some sort of victory after months of bad scores. His whole navy career was one bad score after another. He kept a happy glow about him as he changed into his duty uniform and took the elevator up to Vaarhoo’s office. He did not even mind getting directed to wait for the lieutenant.
While he waited, Stone took out his personal assistant. He did not know if he wanted to call up the inventory program he had just run for the general quarters and look for the glitch that gave him a better than perfect score. He decided he wanted to live with 157% for a while longer, so he called up the math program he was working on and began to retrace the mistakes he had made earlier.
He glanced up in time to see Petty Officer Watkins come into the office and get ushered into Vaarhoo’s office without delay. He almost asked the spacer at the admit desk why he was made to wait when an enlisted man got to go in first, but decided it must be Lieutenant Vaarhoo’s choice.
It was not very long before Watkins came out of the office and hustled off without even glancing in Stone’s direction. Watkins should have at least acknowledged Stones presence, but there wasn’t any way to prove Watkins had even seen him, so Stone went back to his math.
He had barely started again when the spacer called to usher him into Vaarhoo’s office.
Before he could even report Vaarhoo shouted, “What do you think you are doing, Stone? No. Don’t answer. I will tell you what you are doing. Screwing up is what you are doing. I thought you were just a little slow, but you really take first prize.”
Stone stammered, “Sir, I don’t-”
“Shut up, Stone,” Vaarhoo snapped. “I told you to keep quiet and I mean it.”
Stone gave a mental sigh and remembered his promise to keep his mouth closed around his supervisor.
“First: you get my can in a crack by trying to go around me to get a transfer to a different tower. Any request for transfer must, and I repeat must, have my authorization. I didn’t give it and I won’t. I am not in the habit of passing off problem midshipmen to other officers, not even to the farms in tower one. Plus, you tried to use Commander Wright to do it. Apparently you did not know that she is in command of tower one by name only. She is an animal doctor, not real navy. Second Commander Tatamount is the actual military commander of tower one.”
Stone knew he had not asked for a transfer. Commander Wright asked for him by name. Whatever her position, she was a superior officer and could ask for anyone she wanted. Even a junior ensign could ask for his transfer, if the junior ensign wanted him.
“Second: you used unauthorized personnel during a general quarters call. You had marines, damn it, marines manning navy stations. What were you thinking? No. Don’t say anything. I know that you weren’t thinking. Marines! You had marines sitting at consoles.” Vaarhoo swiveled his head back and forth as if trying to shake something completely disgusting off his nose.
Stone was thinking those marines had been better than the majority of personnel the navy had assigned to his crew. Still, he did have to agree he had used marines when he needed more hands. But, he had not ordered them to help; they had volunteered.
“Third: you authorized non-navy personnel to repair navy equipment. More marines! Now we have to get an emergency crew down there to re-fix whatever that grunt screwed up. Your relationship with that marine first lieutenant must be affecting your thinking.”
Stone almost frowned, but kept his face neutral. He was beginning to wonder how Lieutenant Vaarhoo knew so much. Especially about what went on during the general quarters call. It had ended less than an hour ago. Stone knew Vaarhoo’s general quarters station was a maser emplacement amidships in tower three. During a live fire exercise he should have been too busy to watch and observe Stone’s crew over the ship’s video system.
“Fourth: and I don’t even know what to make of this, you used an unauthorized program and you gave that program access to the ship’s warehouse systems. Who knows what kind of alterations the program made to our operational system? If we lose one iota of data, I will personally see you broken down to spacer third class.”
Stone wondered briefly if Watkins could have told Vaarhoo, but the petty officer had been in sickbay not at his duty station during general quarters. He knew it could have been Rojo or Ramirez, but he did not see how either one of them could have gotten to Vaarhoo quicker than he had. Ramirez had left earlier, but not nearly early enough to reach the lieutenant’s office without Stone having seen him. Maybe one of the two spacers had sent a communications message to Vaarhoo, except that most spacers were not in the habit of blatantly snitching on officers to superior officers.
“I don’t care that you set a new ship’s record for operations during a general quarters call. I don’t care that you actually achieved a 157 point something rating. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t follow procedure to get it, so I am wiping it off your record. How you managed to finagle the data to get better than perfect is going to take a full-on investigation!” Vaarhoo was red in the face with anger. “I have to explain how a lowly midshipman in my division screwed up this badly. And I have to explain that to the admiral himself.”
Stone said, “Lieutenant, my men, Spacers Rojo and Ramirez did as I instructed. I understand about having the 157% rating wiped from my records, but they didn’t do anything wrong. I respectfully request that both men be allowed to keep the score in their records.”
Vaarhoo screeched, “How in the name of the Great Green Earth can I give them a more than perfect score when their watch officer’s record shows an incomplete? You don’t have an answer for that do you? If you had been thinking of their future instead of just yours, you wouldn’t have to worry about those men. And they are not ‘your’ men. They are my men.”
Stone wanted to laugh. He was feeling almost giddy with excitement. He had scored well over perfect on an actual navy general quarters call. Whether it showed in his record or not did not matter to him. He had succeeded. But, he kept any hint of happiness from leaking through to his expression.
Vaarhoo checked the time on his personal assistant. It was obvious he wanted to dismiss Stone. Instead he said, “Okay, sit. Show me your progress in math.”
The next fifteen minutes was taken up with the lieutenant looking for any area or any mistake he could find. Stone was pleased that as hard as the lieutenant tried the man was failing miserably to find mistakes, so he changed tactics and was having Stone explain the math problems.
Stone was in the middle of an explanation when the lieutenant interrupted. “Enough. Get out of my office. You have about thirty minutes to get to your duty station. I suggest y
ou go straight there. No. I strongly suggest you go straight to your duty station. An officer should arrive before his crew and not leave until they have all left.”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant,” Stone said as he stood and snapped to attention. “Thank you, sir.” For once he executed a perfect about face and marched from the office, through the cluster of enlisted desks in the outer office and into the corridor. Once in the corridor, a big grin split his face. He did not care if anyone else saw him grinning like some kind of idiot. He got an official 157% score on a live fire g.q. exercise. It would not be on his record, but he would know.
He almost whistled to himself as he headed down the elevators to the tower three crossover tunnel. He would miss breakfast, but he could grab something quick during a mid-shift break. He was feeling so triumphant he knew he could wait for the mid-shift meal and then he could celebrate with ice cream.
The thought of ice cream made him think of Allie. He knew why she was mad at him. He knew he should have trusted her and been honest with her, but he had been afraid she would react exactly like she did. He really wanted to call her and share his happiness, but he could not. His conflicting emotions felt like a kick to the stomach and he stumbled as he passed across the anti-gravity threshold between the tunnel and into tower three. Then, the kick in the stomach was for real.
The kick in the stomach came just as he was coming around a blind corner in the corridor and it doubled him over. He knew if he had eaten he would have lost his lunch. Rough hands grabbed him. The sack pulled over his head was heavy enough to block out all light. He was dragged a short distance and through a hatch. His arms were twisted behind him and he was held up so that only his toes touched the deck. Stone was struck three more times in the stomach. He was hit across the face.
“No marks on the face. No bruising that shows, you idiot,” a voice said. Try as he might Stone did not recognize the voice. It was not PO Watkins, but he was sure he had heard the voice before. It was gruff and uncompromising.