The Outback Stars

by Sandra McDonald

“I’m reading.” Myell scanned the reconciliations that Amador had forwarded. The June inventory had come out at a ninety percent accuracy rate, lower than April and May, but Jodenny was going to have to live with it. Circe was missing a chunk of data and another DNGO, Athena, had gotten herself stuck and couldn’t be retrieved until the Safety Department authorized the resumption of operations in T6. In the subreport he saw five hundred records had been reconciled by hand. He tried pulling up the individual records, but he didn’t have the necessary clearance in his new position.

  He visited Faddig later that morning and said, casually, “If you want me to compile the reconciliations, I’ll need to access your agent.”

  Faddig still had not grasped the jargon of his new job. “Do I want you to do that, or is it something I should do?”

  “You could do it, Chief. I’ll show you. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

  Faddig blinked. “My agent’s name is Dooley. He’ll be expecting your call.”

  Back at his gib, Myell enlisted Dooley’s help to scan the records that Hosaka and others had adjusted by hand. The principal perpetrators of faulty data were all Class III DNGOs built back on Fortune. Still using Faddig’s agent, he traced Circe’s upsynchs for the previous six months. Until the deployment, her accuracy rate had been nearly dead perfect. Only after leaving Fortune did she begin to have all those crazy errors. He checked the maintenance logs. There, just after leaving Fortune, he had sent her to Repair for routine maintenance.

  He checked Hera as well and saw her problem had started earlier, during the last deployment. She had gone in for routine maintenance a few days before her first faulty upsynch.

  “New batch of F-789s just came in,” Caldicot said. “Do you want them, or should I do them?”

  “I’ll do them.” He shunted a copy of the DNGO reports to his pocket server. Reconciliation reports were no longer his problem, really, so why couldn’t he stop poking at the puzzle? Because Circe had nearly killed him in a bizarre accident? Anybody else might consider that a strong incentive to mind his own business.

  Just before lunch, Jodenny returned from taking a random Sweet test. She went into her office and called him inside a few minutes later.

  “These are the final reports on your accident,” she said, handing over a file. “Circe’s programming was a mess when they opened her up. She never acknowledged the lockdown order from Core.”

  He skimmed the pages. “Core should have caught that and sent a warning.”

  “The Data Department is investigating why that didn’t happen.”

  Myell’s gaze caught on his own name. It was odd to see himself described as taking part in events he didn’t remember. “So there were two technical glitches? Circe didn’t respond to the lockdown, and Core didn’t notice the lack of a response?”

  “Three, actually. She still doesn’t show any record of hitting you.” Jodenny focused on him. “Everyone’s concluded your accident really was an accident.”

  He wasn’t going to comment further until he had studied the whole thing. “Can I have a copy of this?”

  Jodenny glanced toward the clock. “I’ll have Caldicot make you one. Time for you to log out and go rest. Dr. Lee was pretty explicit on your medical chit.”

  “I still have another half hour. And today’s a big day. I get to go to the pool.”

  She frowned. “It’s not too soon?”

  “I’m only going to swim a few laps.” Myell tried not to think of Jodenny in a bathing suit, water beading off her shapely legs. “By the way, have you seen my leave chit?”

  She cleared her throat. “Commander Al-Banna doesn’t think you’re medically cleared.”

  “But I am. The medical chit says I can go.”

  “Maybe going down to the planet alone isn’t such a good idea.”

  Myell leaned against the hatch. “Alone?”

  “I have to stay onboard.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s not a good idea for you to go where you’re thinking of going.”

  Myell said, “You don’t know where I’m thinking of going.”

  “I know where I would go,” Jodenny said. “To see if it would happen again.”

  “That’s you, Lieutenant,” he said, and ignored the small weight of the dilly bag in his pocket.

  Caldicot pinged to tell Jodenny that Lieutenant Commander Rokutan had arrived. “I’ll be right out,” Jodenny said. She switched off the comm and gave Myell a pointed look. “We’ll talk about it later, Sergeant.”

  Rokutan was in the outer office, bending over a stack of files he’d knocked to the floor. Myell knew him in passing, had heard of his sports reputation at the academy, and was well aware of how many young sailors had a crush on the handsome officer. Rokutan peered up at Jodenny and offered her a crooked grin. “I hoped that you might want to do lunch before the Garden Committee meeting.”

  Jodenny returned Rokutan’s smile in a way that made Myell inwardly cringe. She said, “Sure. RT Caldicot, I’ll be back later.”

  After they were gone Caldicot asked, “See how she looks at him? I think they’re dating.”

  Officer courtship rituals. Meetings, coffee, secret late night rendezvous in officer berthing. Myell stood up, certain that he wasn’t going to wait around for someone to walk him to the pool. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.”

  On his way to the lift he found Dr. Ng from Space Sciences wandering around in puzzlement. Myell remembered him only vaguely from the night he’d broken up the attack on Olsson. “Can I help you?” Myell asked.

  “Is Lieutenant Scott’s office this way?” Dr. Ng asked.

  “She’s not in. Is there something you need?”

  Ng held up a sealed envelope. “Could you just give her this? It’s for her eyes only.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  He spent a moment wondering why Jodenny would need any kind of paperwork from Space Sciences. No good reason came to mind. None that related to Underway Stores, at least. As her aide, wasn’t he required to screen out crank mail or irrelevant material? With no sense of guilt whatsoever, he broke the seal. The two-page report inside was the results of an analysis on a pair of standard-issue boots that would have no trouble matching Jodenny’s foot size. The soles had contained samples of mud, silica, mold, spores, and trace minerals, none of which was flagged as unusual.

  Myell hurried down the passage, one hand pressed against his aching ribs. “Dr. Ng?” he called out, and was relieved that Ng was still waiting for the lift.

  Ng scowled at the open envelope. “That wasn’t for you to read, Sergeant.”

  “Sorry. It’s just—well, the lieutenant hasn’t dragged you into her nutty theories, has she?”

  Ng’s expression became guarded. “Which theories are those?”

  Bold with suspicion, he dropped his voice. “Interplanetary travel. Being magically transported from planet to planet. She acts like it’s a big secret, a conspiracy. We’re all worried about her.”

  The lift doors opened. Ng boarded stiffly. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  Myell stuffed the report in his pocket. The throbbing in his ribs made him contemplate skipping the gym, but he went anyway. He changed into swimming trunks, hung the dilly bag in his locker, and eased into the large, mostly empty pool. Getting a soil analysis of her boots was a good idea, but Jodenny should have told him. Myell was pondering what to do about it when the swimmer in the next lane, a woman with short hair and a pert nose, splashed him.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “No problem.”

  She flashed him a grin and took off down the lane with a powerful backstroke. Myell bobbed up and down, admiring her strength. She made the return trip and hung off the edge of the pool. “I’m Eva,” she said.

  “Terry.”

  Again that bright smile. “Myell, right? I saw you on the news. You nearly got killed.”

  If she watched the news or listened to gossip, she had probably heard about Ford as well
. Myell braced himself, but Eva’s gaze was clear and untroubled.

  “How long have you been onboard?” he asked.

  “Not long enough to eat at Minutiae,” she said. “Ever try it?”

  Minutiae was one of the nicer restaurants on the Rocks. “Never,” he said.

  “Are you free tonight?”

  He was, in fact, completely free that evening.

  “Good,” she said, and climbed up the ladder. Eva was as lithe as Jodenny, her hips a little smaller, her neck long and delicate. “Nineteen hundred okay? I’ll see you there.”

  The pool seemed colder and less therapeutic after she was gone. Myell stuck it out for another fifteen minutes and moved over to the spa, where hot water made his muscles much more relaxed. When he returned to the locker room, Chiba was waiting for him.

  “I’m not here for trouble,” Chiba said.

  Myell’s pocket server and gib were both far away in his locker, and he felt terribly vulnerable in only a bathing suit and rubber sandals. “Then what are you here for?”

  Chiba folded his beefy arms. “There’s a lot of nasty rumors going on, so let’s get this straight: I had nothing to do with what happened to you in the tower. It was an accident.”

  “Maybe I don’t believe you.”

  “You know my style, Myell. Think it through.”

  Myell did know Chiba’s style. But he also knew that DNGOs that had been to Maintenance and Repair were consistently showing glitches, and Chiba was the boss of all the people who could have messed with their insides.

  “What do you care what I think?”

  Chiba snorted. “I don’t care what you think. I care what the captain thinks. There’s too much attention focused on this department. You let everything get nice and quiet and we won’t have any more problems.”

  Myell considered the request and promised reward. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Do more than think,” Chiba said. “There’s still a lot more time left on this deployment, and things could get much, much worse.”

  Chiba sauntered off. Myell made sure he was gone before he sat on the nearest bench and tried to towel off goose bumps that had nothing to do with being cold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lieutenant Commander Wildstein showed up for dinner in the wardroom that night. Startled, Jodenny said, “Good evening, ma’am. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Beer would be fine.” Wildstein eyed the decorated bulkheads and rearranged furniture. “I like what you’ve done to the place.”

  “It’s all Jodenny’s doing, ma’am,” Zeni said as AT Ashmont brought out another chair.

  Wildstein took a mug. “I’m not surprised.”

  Dinner was a delicious-smelling caponata made with zucchini, tomato, eggplant, and garlic. They were shaking out their napkins when the comm came on. “Attention all crew and passengers. Warramala transition commencing. Five, four, three, two, one.”

  Conversation, which had been stiff in Wildstein’s presence, turned to upcoming shore leave and things to do.

  Vu added, “There’s great shopping.”

  “The best thing about Warramala is the rain forest,” Wildstein said. “Solitude for kilometers.”

  “I like the mountains.” Rokutan motioned for Ashmont to refill his wineglass. He had come to dinner at Jodenny’s request, and now gave her a smile. “Good hiking.”

  Maybe one day they would go into the wilderness together. Backpacks, boots, a tent for two. Myell would be nicer to curl up beside, their sleeping bags zippered together, their legs entwined. She reached for her wine. Tony, she thought. Tony not Terry.

  “I’m an ocean girl myself,” Hultz said. “Surfing, skiing, scuba—all good things.”

  “I’d like to try scuba.” Rokutan’s gaze caught Jodenny’s. Another thing they could try together, perhaps. She smiled. After dinner Rokutan invited her to his cabin, as they both knew he would. She accepted, as they both knew she would. Within minutes she was sitting on his bed as he kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, her throat. He smelled like wine.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  She was thinking there was no such thing as easy sex, no matter what people said. Not on a spaceship and not when the person was someone you worked with.

  “I’m thinking this is just what the doctor ordered,” she lied.

  Rokutan eased her back and began unbuttoning her blouse. “Is that all I am to you? A prescription?”

  Jodenny touched his jaw. “A panacea.”

  “A substitute for the real thing?”

  “That’s a placebo,” she said.

  Without a hint as to whether he’d been joking, Rokutan bent his mouth to the cleft between her breasts. Jodenny felt dizzy, as if she’d had too much to drink. She ran her fingers through his short hair and closed her eyes and damn it, it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t the one she wanted.

  “Terry,” she said.

  He lifted his head. “What?”

  “What?” Jodenny asked.

  Rokutan’s eyes narrowed. Jodenny fingered the fringes of hair at his temple. He dipped his head to kiss her right nipple and yes, that felt nice, and there he was planting hot kisses above her belly button. She needed escape. She needed unconditional touching. She needed to get out of her own mind, to slide along in frictionless darkness just as the Aral Sea slid along in the Alcheringa.

  But to escape at the expense of someone else wasn’t her style.

  Jodenny put her hands on the side of Rokutan’s head and lifted him gently. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “It’s good enough for the here and now.”

  She slid her feet to the floor and sat up. Her fingers shook slightly as she rebuttoned her blouse. “I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to you.”

  “I hate when women say that,” Rokutan said with a sigh. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “Look, Jodenny, whatever’s going through your head, this isn’t about true love, right? We’re friends and colleagues. Friends and colleagues who both need a little unwinding and relaxing. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  Jodenny’s fingers stilled.

  “Whoever you’re pining for, he’s a lucky guy,” Rokutan said. “But he’s not here, and I am. We both are. So, you know, take advantage of what you have in front of you, not what’s behind or ahead of you. Live in this moment, not some other one. They only come one at a time.”

  He kissed the corner of her mouth, and she let him. Terry …

  * * *

  Berthing was quiet at such a late hour. Jodenny was almost back to her cabin when Chief Nitta stepped into the passage. His uniform was disheveled and he had a mean look in his eyes, as if he’d been off kicking puppies and kittens.

  “Chief,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Bitch,” he said.

  Jodenny put her hands on her hips, using the gesture to activate the emergency button on her gib. “Go back to your quarters, Chief.”

  “I’d go back to work, but you kicked me out.” Spit appeared at the corner of his mouth as he took an unsteady, menacing step forward. “You think you can ruin my career? Since day one you’ve been breaking my balls, trying to get me in trouble. Where’s the inventory, Chief? Where’s the fucking COSALs? I’ve got people giving me all sorts of shit because you can’t keep your whiny mouth shut—”

  “How much have you had to drink, Chief?”

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “You think you’re special, but you’re not. We can hurt you when you least expect it—”

  Jodenny calculated the distance back to the lift. She could physically defend herself if necessary, but he was heavier and stronger than she was, and unpredictable. Retreat might be the better part of valor.

  “—and you’ll never know. You’ll be facedown dead and never know.”

  He coughed harshly. Blood appeared on his lips. “Chief?” she asked, alarmed, and he managed a flash of surprise before he crashed to the floor.

&n
bsp; Jodenny palmed her gib. “Holland, I need help. Medics and Security, right away.”

  “Security’s already on its way,” Holland said. “Are you hurt, Lieutenant?”

  “Not me,” Jodenny said as Nitta began convulsing. Hultz and Zeni both appeared at the doors of their cabins, woken by the commotion or by their own agents.

  “What the hell?” Zeni asked as Nitta gasped and bucked on the floor.

  “What’s he doing in officers’ country?” Hultz asked.

  Quenger came out of his cabin rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Jesus shit,” he said, and kept his distance.

  “Medbot, activate,” Jodenny ordered, but the unit could do little. Froth was coming out of Nitta’s mouth by the time the medics carted him off. Jodenny would have followed but two Security techs asked her to come make a statement. She went with them, acutely aware of Zeni, Hultz, and Quenger watching her as she went. While she was waiting in Picariello’s office a tech brought her tasteless coffee and told her Chief Nitta had died in Sick Berth. Jodenny made him repeat the information twice.

  “Died of what?” she asked.

  “I’m sure they’ll do an autopsy, ma’am,” the tech said.

  Senga poked his head in once but didn’t ask her questions. Picariello, when he arrived, asked why she’d been out in the passage so late at night.

  “That’s personal, sir,” she said.

  Picariello raised an eyebrow. Jodenny kept her face as blank as she could. Her personal life was her own, damn it, and had nothing to do with Nitta being somewhere he didn’t belong.

  “Do you think Chief Nitta wanted revenge for being transferred out of Underway Stores?” Picariello asked.

  She had already considered the idea. “He might have been mad about it, but he wasn’t dumb.”

  Al-Banna arrived, grumpy at being roused from sleep. Jodenny repeated the story for the umpteenth time. His expression turned thunderous as she described what happened.

  “Goddamn Sweet,” he said.

  Picariello said, “We won’t know for sure until the autopsy.”

  Jodenny looked at both men in bewilderment. “He was using Sweet?” she asked. Impossible. She would have noticed. Then again, hadn’t he displayed all the classic signs? Mood swings. Unexplained absences from work. As a division officer she was supposed to notice such things, and to refer sailors to appropriate counseling or treatment programs.