Abominations

by P. S. Power

  “Get your end up! Smitty, get your fucking end up or we're going to lose it!” A bit of panic to the gruff voice.

  Gwen could see the problem, Smitty, the man on the back right portion of the square struggled, his hands slipping for some reason, grease or oil most likely, since this looked worse than just slipping due to sweaty palms. Seeing a clean-ish looking rag on a work table, Gwen grabbed it as she jogged by, spreading it in the air over her palms and putting it under the corner where Smitty struggled to find purchase. Putting her whole body into it, she tried to lift the corner up as much as she could, it barely shifted, her chest burning, but the lean red-haired man next to her caught the idea quickly and put his hands next to hers on the cloth, his left arm pressed into her breast, standing shoulder to shoulder, allowing them to get the end even with the rest. Then, because she didn't know if Smitty's hands would still slide or not, she helped move the crystals forward into what seemed to be a lifting device. A net of thick metal cables.

  “Good! Now, you, Smitty's new replacement, get ready to get your hands out of the way or you'll lose a finger to the housing cage. You too, Smitty... hands off, both sides, in three...two...go!”

  Not knowing what to expect, Gwen pulled her hands back to her stomach and stepped back, which turned out to be pretty close to what everyone else did as well, a good thing, since the woven wire snapped up into place about a quarter of a second after her hands released, catching the edge of the rag. The woman that worked the controls saw this and growled.

  “Damn it, Smitty! You know to take the rag with you... Gar! Girl, you there, grab your rag and pull it out, pull hard and jump back holding it, got it? This thing's gonna jump. Ready?”

  Gwen stepped back in and grabbed the corner of the rag, taking a wide stance, so she could get out of the way as quickly as possible, then pulled until the slack went out of the slightly oily cloth. Pulling hard enough that it would fly out when the pressure released.

  “Ready!”

  The crystal did jump, coming free of the cradle just enough for her to get the bit of material clear. She nearly stumbled when it released, catching herself by taking a single step back and lowering her weight, her shoes slid a little on the smooth concrete floor, but Gwen didn't topple over.

  “Got it in one? Pretty good. Didn't even fall on your ass. Better than some people ever manage.” The woman, who looked to be in her forties or so, and built like a linebacker, grinned at her.

  “You're a bit puny for a loader. Still there's always a place for someone that can think on their feet. What have we got here though...” The woman scurried to the corner, running a thick, callused finger on the underside of the giant crystal filled square. Her finger came back covered in brownish red grease.

  “Holy fucking shit. What the fucking hell is this? Darnell, if I find out that you fucking did this on purpose, I'll have your ass sacked faster than you can cry don't-kick-me-in-the-balls-again...” She walked to one of the men and checked his hands, which did, indeed, have grease on the back. That the woman didn't have to look at everyone's hands first told Gwen a lot about Darnell.

  “Fucking...bloody...asshole! I can't even tell you what a bad idea that fucking was, Darnell. This is an emergency, a fucking emergency. Just, just get the fuck out of here. You, Curly, you're replacing Darnell here for this trip. If you work out, you can have his job... I swear, Darnell, if this were the Air-Navy and you pulled such a moron move you'd be doing five years hard for it. Argh! Clear! Get fucking clear of the cradle, I'm loading now and if anyone pulls another lame-brained stunt today I'll drop them out the back hatch at five thousand feet!”

  The woman stormed back to the controls of the cradle, a fairly innocent looking wooden box with four wires coming out of it.

  Darnell started whining about how it had just been a prank, and that he didn't mean anything by it. Gwen watched as the woman turned red while she worked, her lips white. The Admiral walked over to Gwen with Beth right behind him, looking like he was about to strangle Darnell himself. He kept his mouth closed on the subject, fuming himself.

  “That was quick thinking Katherine, thank you. Those crystals cost nearly three thousand mets to charge and twice that for the crystal itself. If it had broken we'd be out at least five thousand, even after salvage, not to mention the time lost getting another one ready.” Her uncle stared at Darnell, his face serious.

  “Gloria's not wrong you know, in the Air-Navy a stunt like that would have prison time attached. Unfortunately we aren't allowed that here.”

  Smitty walked over to her, his face more than a little red as well, though from the exertion as much as the anger, it seemed to her.

  “Thanks!” He held out an oil stained hand, which she shook, knowing her own hands had to be nearly as greasy from the rag by now as his would be. This turned out to be wrong, which made her chuckle. She wiped her hand on the rag in her hand then handed it off to him.

  “If I'd dropped that, I'd have been sacked for sure, even if it was a set-up. I need this job, ya know? Don't let Gloria scare you... If she hasn't threatened to fire you yet, it just means you're new.”

  Gloria looked up from the controls, after the cradle set the crystal down in the hold gently, and saw the Admiral standing there.

  “Groundling, wrap for me. Everyone else, straps, we lost enough time already to this crap. No screw-ups. You, Curly, how green are you?” She pointed at Gwen.

  “Pure green?” She answered, hoping that green meant new here and wasn't a statement of environmental concern, which she'd be all for normally, she just didn't want to make a political statement on anything. What if everyone hated that here?

  “Right. Ghost Smitty then and don't touch shit unless told to, got it? Welcome aboard.”

  Turning to Katherine's uncle, Gwen shrugged.

  “Looks like I'm ghosting Smitty for this trip. Don't fire Darnell. You can have more fun with him if he still works here. Give him double shifts and the worst jobs for a while or something. The floor in here could be scrubbed with a toothbrush for instance and there are a lot of other hangars, which I'm sure could use a similar going over. Just a suggestion, if nothing else he can be lulled into a false sense of security and dropped off the back of one of these things over the ocean.” Which wasn't a bad idea, she decided, if she ever needed to get rid of a body herself. It really could come up, so she filed it away.

  To her surprise the man looked at her, scowled and then gave a small nod.

  “The man screwed up there, but we can't have him arrested for it. If we keep him on, we can make his life... difficult, until he learns not to do such things. It's either that or you, Smitty and Gloria take him out back and work him over.” He grinned when he said it, so she knew he didn't really mean it. Still, given the expense involved she'd be willing to if it came to it. Nine thousand mets was something like ten years wages for her right now.

  Smitty waved her over, apparently not wanting to approach the Admiral again if he could help it.

  “Looks like I'm up then. Emergency protocols and all, as you said.”

  “One moment. I need to make the introductions and save Darnell here from a beating, at least for now. Walk with me please.”

  They all walked over to Gloria who stood in front of Darnell, screaming at him, a large wrench in her right fist, half raised. She kept taking small steps toward him, even though he apparently didn't have the sense to see that the woman might be a real threat, holding his ground like he was. Then Darnell wasn't exactly bright, was he?

  “Gloria. We've people here. Darnell... Go wait in the main office. Don't touch anything and don't leave before we get back, unless you don't want to work again, at least in this industry or any related to it.”

  The man stared wide-eyed at what Gwen realized would probably be his boss at some three or four removes or more in the power structure, nodded, and took off at a jog toward the building they came from. He didn't turn around to see if they were watching him.

  “Not to tell
you how to run a fleet, Sir, but we could just run him out back and beat some sense into him for a while.” Gloria looked down at her wrench, a bit wistfully.

  “This way we still can, if he's not going to shape up. Right now we need to get airborne, even if this is just a standard aid and bundle. Terrace line, you know how those fellows always push the limits. Damn poor strategy for passenger class ships, but nothing to be done about it now.” Stepping to the side he indicated Beth with his whole hand.

  “Gloria is our Engineer and crew boss for the Peregrine here. Gloria, this is Captain Bethany Westmorland. That's Air-Navy, but she'll be A-pilot for this trip.”

  Gloria put out her hand and they shook.

  “Ma'am,” the woman said a bit stiffly.

  “Not the kind that blows up. Constabulary Detective right now, but I served as First mate on the Constantinople for a year.”

  Gwen didn't know what that actually meant, she got it was military service, the name of the ship meant nothing to her. Gloria obviously understood it as important, since she relaxed when she heard it. Before the Admiral could give Gwen's name, Beth indicated her with her own hand in the same way that he had done with her a moment before.

  “This is my assistant, Kate. On a Navy boat, either kind, that would give her the rank of Ensign. For today she's the lowest rank member of your crew, since this isn't a military vessel. Understood, Kate?”

  Gwen stood straight hands by her side, mimicking what she'd seen on television more than a few times, hoping that the traditions here were similar, or that it at least looked official enough.

  “Yes, ma'am!”

  Bethany didn't smile, just nodding instead.

  “Good. You heard her, get with Smitty and do what he says. You're dismissed.”

  Turning, Gwen jogged over to the man, who waited about fifteen feet back.

  It seemed strange to her, but military Beth actually felt different, like a different person or something, a lot less friendly and kind suddenly. It made her wonder what kind of training the Westmorland program actually gave their people. She had no trouble believing that this Beth would jump out of an airship, or whatever they did, if it became a military necessity. Or that she'd order Gwen to do the same, if the need arose.

  Chapter twenty-two

  The hold of the airship was a huge, empty space, carrying only the charged crystal they'd just loaded, which had been moved to the middle of the hold. That was, she was told, the most balanced position for it. Smitty, dressed in a faded blue jumpsuit that looked like something a mechanic would have worn to protect their clothing in her world, pointed things out to Gwen as he walked quickly toward where the other men worked.

  “You said you were green, so quick tour. We came through the back hatch, which is also the cargo hatch. Normally personnel and passengers come through the hatches on the side or the top deck. Those are the ones that look like doors at the side, there. We're light cargo and perishable goods, so we don't have a lot of passengers really.” He pointed to doors that looked to be made of heavy, but polished wood. He kept walking.

  “In the deck – the floor here is called the deck no matter what level you're on, inside or out, the ceiling is called the overhead – in those dips in the deck, are the tie-down rings. Also called cargo ties. We run ropes or straps through them to tie things off. Until you learn the knots don't even try, you'll just make a mess. Let other people tie things off, and you haul the ropes, take up slack, basically do what others tell you. Don't worry, because today we're just going out, offloading this crystal pack and probably picking up the dead one on the other ship. You'll probably spend most of your time sweeping or polishing the brass work on the deck. Gloria likes us all to keep busy. On a real trip you'd be doing that too, but we'd all also be checking the tie downs and cargo every hour, more if the weather's rough. Shifting and poor tying damages goods and that means less profit. We do a lot more work than some other boats, but our crew share shows it. Our damage and loss ratio is less than point oh oh one, which is the best possible rating.”

  Since the crystal looked to be tied down and the cradle for it, which seemed to be part of the airship, looked to be secured, Smitty got her a rag and some polish and set her to cleaning the brass work, figuring that Gloria would be happier seeing them doing something when she got in than if they were sitting around. That, the red haired man explained, would be important, because if Gloria wasn't a little peeved when she got back it would only be because she was livid. Smitty didn't blame her.

  “Even if the Admiral and Gloria say Darnell just gets scutt work for a while, he's getting a beating. Those crystals cost a lot, sure, but if it fell it could have injured someone. Probably not me, since I was on the slipping side and knew to get out of the way, but Meter was two places up and that would probably have cost him a foot or at least a broken leg. Every man on the other side was in danger too. They won't let that go.”

  He explained how polishing worked, using a small cloth to apply the waxy cream, which didn't smell very good to Gwen, on the brass, making sure to keep it off the surrounding wood, then using the larger rag to scrub the brass clean of the polish, using small circular movements. It all looked pretty shiny to her, but frequent attention was probably what kept it all looking nice, so she decided to do a good job of it, if she could. If nothing else it was learning a new skill, and that never hurt in the long run, she was finding.

  He handed her three fresh rags, small towels really and told her where they went when they were all covered with the cleaner, as well as where to get more of them. Then he did a small section of brass railing, a bar that ran along the wall and then had her do the next bit while he watched, the whole process taking about two minutes.

  “Good. Just keep that up and try not to miss anything if you can. We have time right now, so speed's good, but don't slack off on quality, alright? I'll be on the other side, doing the same thing, if you run into problems.”

  She'd been working for about ten minutes when Gloria came by, looked at her work for about five seconds, and grunted.

  “Smitty did something right, set right to work without being told. Maybe I should get him someone to train full time. When you get done with this, get Smitty to show you to the engine room. The Admiral wants you to get an introduction to propulsion systems for some reason. So hurry here and get your ass in there. We'll need a couple hours to go over everything. The trip out should only take about three. I'll give you forty minutes to finish this. Go.” The woman smiled at her then, but not in a way that said she was joking about the time limit.

  The railing ran about the length of a football field, maybe a bit more, probably meant for crew to grab during strong winds or something, rather than decoration, even though it did look nice to her. Gwen scrambled, her arm getting sore from the unaccustomed motions about halfway through and starting to burn shortly after that. Not an unusual feeling to her, some of the drills she'd run in various martial arts classes had taught her that this kind of burn could just be pushed through, as long as you didn't give in mentally. Given her old physical problems it was a lesson she'd really had to learn. Sure, at a certain point the muscle would just give out, but there would be a long time between the start of pain and when you really couldn't go on anymore.

  She got to the end of the rail, pushing as fast as she could, just shy of forty minutes and told Smitty what Gloria had said.

  “Right. Let me check your rail first and see if you did it right. Since you're doing what I say, it's my ass if you messed it up.” He walked the rail with her, stopping twice to polish small areas that looked a little rough.

  “Not bad. You could probably walk my side and find as many missed places. There are always spots that get missed no matter how careful you are. That's why you always have to double check everything on a ship, no matter how unimportant it seems. Better yet, have someone else check it for you. Fresh eyes find new things. Let's get the gear stowed and get to Gloria then, before she comes back to scream at you for bei
ng too slow.” Grinning, he walked quickly to the cloth bags in the front of the room where everything got put, each thing in its own bag, then tied in place on a deep shelf that held many other bags, all marked with tags saying what they held.

  Smitty in the lead, they pushed into a hallway that had three doors, hatches she remembered him having called them. Pointing he listed them off quickly for her.

  “Port side hatch there is the head, the restroom,” he said gesturing to the left. “Starboard has the stairs to the upper decks. You won't need those being loading crew, unless the boss wants you to polish the wood and brass or swab the decks above. Being a girl they may also try to rope you into taking coffee to the Captain. Technically not your job, but being the lowest person here you get that kind of thing. That's pretty much the same everywhere, right?”

  He moved through the center hatchway, announcing that it led forward, which seemed strange to her, since it was obviously in front of her, until she realized it had the other part of the ship's working areas, called forward. Luckily she hadn't said anything about it out loud.