by Alan Black
“Listen up, numbnuts. Quit screwing around. Quit rocking the boat. Leave the marines alone. You just show up on your job and let your crew do their jobs. Do nothing else. I know you understand what I am saying. Understand this: our little meeting here is as pleasant as it gets. Next time we will not be so nice.”
Another punch in the stomach would have caused Stone to double over except he was being held up. Suddenly, he was let go and he dropped heavily to the deck. He heard the hatch close. He groaned loudly. It hurt. He had been in a fight just once before. He and his cousin Jimbo had been wandering around a station just looking to be looking. They were jumped by a couple of local station brats looking for trouble. He had been punched a few times before the stationers ran off, but he could not remember it hurting this bad. He and Jimbo had laughed it off.
Stone levered himself to his feet and pulled the sack off his head. The room he was in was almost pitch black except for the small red dot over the hatch indicating where the exit was located. He stumbled to the hatch, silently willing the hatch to not be locked from the outside.
He stepped into the corridor. It was empty. He leaned against the bulkhead and breathed deeply. His breath caught and he tried not to breathe so deep. He checked the time on his personal assistant and was surprised to see he still had twenty minutes before third watch began. He stood as straight as he could and walked the rest of the way to his station.
He waved to the ensign on duty, but did not speak. Their routine was for Stone to show up for duty and the ensign left. The ensign had not required Stone to speak since the first day. He had not ever waited for his crew to be relieved; he just left without a word.
Spacer Ramirez was the first man to come on duty. Ramirez smiled, but when Stone did not return the smile, he shrugged and went off to his duty station, relieving the spacer from second watch. A few others came on duty, some nodded, some did not and some looked as if they were walking in their sleep.
Stone watched each of his crew carefully as they came on duty. Each man reported to Stone and he assigned each man to a station. Stone spread them out to various duty stations without his usual thought or concern. Some of his crew had duty stations at consoles in the room. Others were spread about at consoles around the warehouse complex. As each man replaced the second watch warehouseman, the faces on the consoles in front of Stone changed. Stone looked at each face. Some stared back, some did not and some looked as if they had gone back to sleep.
When Spacer Rojo reported for duty he grinned wildly at Stone. He looked confused when Stone just gave him his duty station and said nothing else.
Petty Officer Watkins was the last man in the door, barely reporting on time. Stone stared at him without giving him his duty station, but the man refused to look Stone in the eye. He just stood quietly looking at the deck.
Stone checked the console displays. As always there were more warehousemen on second watch than were assigned to the third watch. He also knew that first watch had more warehousemen assigned to it than the second watch and third watches combined.
He spoke into the department intercom. “All second watch crew are relieved of duty. Thank you for your service to the Emperor.” He looked up at the petty officer. “PO Watkins, your uniform has a stain on the knee.”
Watkins shrugged, “So?”
“So?” Stone mimicked the man. “So? Petty Officer Watkins, is that all you have to say?”
“You never cared before,” Watkins replied. “That stain has been there for a couple a weeks.”
Stone stood up and faced the man. He wanted to stare at Watkins eye to eye, but he was about four inches too short. None-the-less, he stepped within inches of Watkins and stared at the man’s face, willing the enlisted man to flinch.
Watkins looked away, still not meeting Stone’s eyes.
“Petty Officer Watkins, you will come to attention when reporting for duty and you will report wearing a serviceable uniform,” Stone’s voice was cold.
“What?” Watkins replied.
“PO Watkins, how long have you been in the Emperor’s navy?” Stone asked, keeping all emotion from his voice except for an ice cold edge to his words. He could feel the others in the room watching his back, both those in the room and those watching through the monitors. He even imagined he could feel Lieutenant Vaarhoo watching the same video feeds. Right now he did not care who was watching. His stomach hurt and the side of his face stung.
“I guess about sixteen years or so. Why?” Watkins mumbled.
Stone’s voice became colder. “Sixteen years and in all that time you haven’t learned how to stand at attention, is that what you are telling me, Petty Officer Watkins?”
“Uh, no. I mean, I know how to do it, but I just-”
“Petty Officer Watkins, if you understand how, then you should be standing that way now, should you not?”
Watkins straightened his back in a semblance of standing at attention.
Stone looked the man over. “Petty Officer Watkins, you will address me as Mister or Mister Stone when you speak to me or you will not speak at all. Do you understand?”
Watkins nodded.
“Thank you, Petty Officer. I appreciate your attention to these minor details and as the senior enlisted man on this watch I trust that you will discuss this with each member of this detail, so every enlisted man will be within regulations.”
Stone left Watkins standing at attention and turned back to check each monitor to be sure each enlisted man was watching. “Third watch, I have an announcement before we begin. During the recent general quarters live fire exercise the third watch crew, consisting of only Spacer Third Class Rojo and Second Class Ramirez, achieved a rating of 157%. That number is under review as it may be some kind of record. Whether their performance will stand with that number or whether it will be downgraded to a lower number, I cannot say. I will note that number in the duty officer’s personal notes section of their permanent record. It was an outstanding effort by both spacers and I thank them for it. As a reward, both men were given the watch off.”
He thought, “Take that Vaarhoo! I hope you are listening.”
Stone looked at Rojo in the monitor. “Spacer Rojo, thank you for coming in, but it was not necessary. Why are you here?”
Rojo grinned. “Mister Stone, I was so excited about how well we did on the exercise that I couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to get back to work. Is that okay?”
Stone nodded, but did not return the grin. “Yes, Spacer Rojo, it is more than okay. Your enthusiasm will be noted in your record.” He looked across the room at Ramirez sitting at a console there. “Spacer Ramirez, why are you here?”
“Um, Mister Stone, the same reason I guess. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t have anything else to do as everyone I hang out with is on watch,” Ramirez replied.
“Thank you, Spacer Ramirez, your enthusiasm will be noted in your personnel record.”
Stone looked at each monitor before he spoke again. “Third watch, we have a large number of containers stored in temporary in-coming slots. These items were received when we docked at Paramount Station. We will review these items and move them to permanent storage for disposition and activation. We also have a large number of items stored in the disposal area. We will also work to review each item prior to sending it for scrapping or destruction. Please begin.”
He turned back to Watkins and made a show of shutting the sound off and turning his back on the video pickup feeds to all of the enlisted on third watch. He deliberately left his personal assistant set to record and made sure the main input/output feed to Vaarhoo’s office remained open.
He looked at Watkins closely. Someone had just punched him in the face, he had his suspicions Watkins was involved, but the man’s knuckles were not bruised or skinned up.
“Petty Officer Watkins,” Stone said. “I will note in your file that you missed another general quarters call by showing up to sickbay for detox. That is your right by regulation. However, to my certain knowle
dge this is the third g.q. call that you missed for detox. I am giving you formal notice that I intend to review your records. I will recommend you be suspended from duty for a drinking problem if you show more missed duty over the past twelve months for detox. Do you have a drinking problem, PO Watkins?”
Watkins looked startled. “Hey, you can’t-”
“My name is not ‘hey’ Petty Officer. And I certainly can. You have your rights, but so do I. Are you abusing alcohol or drugs?”
Watkins didn’t say anything, but his ‘at attention’ stance sagged a bit.
“It is your right to not say anything. Please take the front console,” Stone nodded, more to himself than to Watkins.
The PO almost saluted, thought better of it, spun on his heels and seated himself at the console directly in front of Stone. When left to his own devices, Watkins almost always gravitated to a console away from the main duty room.
Stone watched Watkins punching numbers for a while. He slaved a display to Watkins’ display and watched numbers scrolling past as the petty officer called a shipping container from the in-coming slot and routed it along the anti-gravity conveyer rails to the processing room. The processing room was adjacent to the main duty room and was separated by a series of plexi-glass windows. Watkins could have stood and visually compared the container numbers to the shipping bill of lading on his monitor. However, the processing room’s scanners read the identification tags on the container and verified a match. The processing room also verified the height, length, depth and weight of the items so the container could be stored in a space that matched maximum warehouse space utilization. Watkins then routed the container to the designated area suggested by the computer.
Stone checked in on every crewman on duty. He watched them pushing boxes from one spot to another, but his mind was on who, if any one, from his crew had been involved in an assault on him. He wondered briefly if he should call security and report the incident. He was embarrassed enough at being beaten without even fighting back that he decided not to file a report.
He did not know who had attacked him or even how many there had been. He was sure whoever had attacked him must have been smart enough to shut off their personal assistants so they had no recording of the beating. The room he had been dragged into was so dark that his p.a. should not have picked up any picture.
He pulled his p.a. out and scanned back through the attack, but he was right. The recording did not show anything. He could hear the voices but the room was too dark to give him a picture. His attackers had stayed out of range of his p.a. video pickup when they had grabbed him in the corridor.
“Stop!” Stone suddenly shouted at Watkins. “Petty Officer Watkins, bring that container back to the processing room, now.”
Watkins turned in his chair and said, “Which container, Mister Stone? I have looked at a hundred or so.”
“That one.” Stone pointed, knowing that it was useless to point. He hit the back button on his monitor until he found the container he had seen flying past P.O. Watkins’ station. He manually typed in the numbers of the container and called it back.
“P.O. Watkins, put that container in the processing room back where it came from. Clear that room for manual inspection.”
“Are you nuts?” Watkins shouted. “We don’t do visual inspections. Look at this display. This is a load of munitions for the missile room. This was visually inspected and approved at the time they put the stuff in the container. And it was inspected again when it was received on the docks at Paramount Station. You can see the sign offs right on the display. Look, you can see Lieutenant Vaarhoo signed off on this load personally.”
Stone stood and moved to stand next to Watkins’ console. He spoke as calmly as he could. “Petty Officer, let’s forget for a moment that you have forgotten to address me by my rank, that you shouted at an officer and that you accused an officer of being mentally unstable, do you know of any regulation that prohibits me from visually inspecting any container that I want to have visually inspected?”
“Mister Stone-” Watkins began.
“So far, so good P.O.” He made sure his p.a. was synced up to the video feed for his duty crew. “Let me be very clear to all of third watch. This is a direct order: halt the movement of all containers. Do so now. Clear this processing room for a visual inspection.” He pointed at the shipping container sliding into the processing room on the conveyer rails. “I intend to personally and fully visually inspect that container.”
He stepped back to his own console and with a flick of a toggle he shut down all of the outgoing and incoming communications calls for his duty area. As he did so he realized he had shut off two on-going personal calls to the enlisted area and three incoming feeds from entertainment channels.
“Spacer Ramirez, please seal the anti-grav rails coming into the processing area and lock down all hatches,” Stone ordered. He shot a warning look at Watkins. “P.O. Watkins, please vent atmosphere into the processing area. All of third watch is to lock their consoles now.” He waited for a few seconds and then slaved every console to his p.a.
“Petty Officer Watkins, open both hatches between here and the processing room. Everyone in this duty center is going in there with us to visually inspect this container.”
Stone felt like he was being paranoid, but he had been attacked once today. He was not going into the processing room alone. He was not going to make it easy on anyone in his crew to hurt him ‘in an accident’. He did not see how his crew could hurt him if they were in there with him.
Spacer Ramirez raised a hand to get his attention. “Mister Stone, may I ask a question?”
Stone nodded, “Certainly Spacer, as long as it is applicable to the situation at hand.”
“Why this container, Mister Stone? I mean, between us we have moved a bunch so far today,” Ramirez asked.
Stone replied, “That is a very good question, Spacer. I stopped this one because of a minor discrepancy. It is very small and very insignificant. The display of the data on this container shows that this is for missile parts needed by the Periodontitis munitions department for a retro-fit project on the TADD16XLs. This display shows this container plus all internal items weighed 45,197.2 kilograms at the time the procurement department purchased these parts. It weighted 45,197.2 kilograms on the docks at Paramount Station. It weighed the same when it was put into the incoming goods storage. Why doesn’t it weigh that now?”
Ramirez looked at Watkins and shrugged.
Watkins looked up at Stone and shrugged.
Ramirez said, “It isn’t that much off, Mister Stone; only about a hundred kilos or so. Couldn’t we just tag it for first shift and they can have Lieutenant Vaarhoo come down and re-inspect it. I mean, he did it the first time, right?”
“If this were ice cream I would say that perhaps it evaporated or someone snatched a few tubs for lunch,” Stone said. “But these are missile parts and that is why we are going to look. I would call Lieutenant Vaarhoo now if I felt that it was necessary to have him down here. I don’t imagine that you want to wake him up for this, do you Spacer Ramirez?” He looked pointedly at Watkins. “Do you want to call the lieutenant and have him come down to re-inspect this container?
Watkins shook his head and said, “Mister Stone, inspecting a container is your call, but isn’t it a safety violation to open both hatches at the same time?”
“Not if you trust your crew buddies to have really locked down the rails and frozen all incoming hatches. Are you nervous, P.O. Watkins?” Stone said.
“That I am, Mister Stone,” Watkins nodded. “I tried to verify it was safe to open both hatches, but you have my console locked out.”
Stone smiled for the first time in what seemed like hours. “If you are nervous Petty Officer, then please review the data on my console’s display. It is locked out as well, but you can see the processing room is safe to enter.”
Watkins checked and nodded. “Yes sir. It is safe.”
“I am no
t a ‘sir’, Petty Officer. I have already asked you to open those hatches. Do I need to order you to comply?” Stone asked quietly.
Watkins rushed to the hatches and punched in the open codes and said, “No, Mister Stone. I mean, aye, aye, Mister Stone. Hatches open as requested. Who do you want to inspect with you?”
Stone waved at the spacers in the room. “Everybody in here goes with us and I want everybody not in the main control room to just sit tight and keep their hands off their consoles. We are on lock down until I deem this inspection complete.” He pointed at a storage closet that was rarely opened. “Petty Officer Watkins, I want you to grab a couple of breaker bars and a couple of pikes.”
Stone strolled into the processing room to stand next to the container. His crewmen gathered around him. He walked around the container. It looked like any other container. He could not see in blatant evidence of alterations.
He looked at the crew. “Gentlemen, I want everyone to look for signs of tampering. Ask yourselves if this container has been opened since it was sealed by Lieutenant Vaarhoo after his last visual inspection. Please make sure; take your time. Ask Petty Officer Watkins his opinion if you see something you think may be normal wear and tear or if it is an indication of intentional damage, theft, tampering or sabotage.” His mind flashed back to Hammermill pointing out the deliberately damaged anti-gravity rails.
He used his p.a. to call up the commercial invoice, packing list, bill of lading, security validation, customs report and all of the tracking documents on the container. He enlarged the displays and broadcast them onto the bulkhead. He carefully reviewed them to see if all of the documents matched the container. He read the container numbers to a crewman who read them back to him.
“We don’t see any signs this box has been opened anywhere along the line, Mister Stone,” Watkins said.
Ramirez raised a hand, “Mister Stone, shouldn’t we put this aside and have the missile maintenance crews come down and open this? I mean, it is their stuff, how do we know what we are looking for?”