“All set out here, Doctor Isaacs?” Commander Yorn asked. “Looks like you’re going to have an interesting leave.”
He grimaced and looked back at the roll-up door. “Looks like it. But once I get these men into the hands of the professionals at the base hospital I should get to take some time off barring any unforseen emergencies.”
“Knowing you, that won’t take long,” Milli Gertz kidded him. Commander Gertz was a pretty exobiologist ranking pushing forty and she ran her left hand through her short salt-and-pepper hair. Her right hand was enclosed in a evo-suit glove and just the fingertips protruded from the sling she wore suspended from her right shoulder. Gertz had gouged her forearm on an alien bird’s talon and as the injury healed, her flesh started to disappear. Not disappear as in rot away, but disappear as in turn invisible. The arm and hand were still there you just couldn’t see them anymore. She was headed to the base hospital for what could only be described as grueling prodding and poking.
“Look who’s talking, the Bird Lady of Alka Seltzer.”
Milli swatted him on the arm. “It’s Alcatraz you old reprobate. Get your put-downs straight.”
“I’m sure you two will have plenty of time to bash each other on the boat down,” Yorn said. “Don’t forget you’re on the same side.”
A warning klaxon sounded and bright yellow strobes flashed from the gangway overhead. “Welcome to Elber Prime Port Authority,” a mechanical female voice erupted from hidden speakers. “Follow the lighted gangway strips at your feet. Blue for military; Green for civilian; Yellow for other. No hazardous materials allowed through this gateway without prior Port Authority approval. . .” The message recycled.
“Well, David, see you on the other side,” Isaacs said and turned back to his charges.
“What about you, Davi? They say you’re going to ferry the Christi over to the yards on Canton. Shouldn’t you be coming along with us to have your head looked at?”
He looked at Gertz and shrugged. “Doc over there already looked at it. Said he couldn’t find anything in it.”
They shared a quick laugh and the door started to rumble upwards. Three huge glass-partitioned corridors arrowed away into the heart of the hub, each one with a different color flashing floor.
“Well. I don’t know how long they’re going to keep me, Davi, but I’m hoping to rejoin the ship when she’s finished her refit. In the meantime, I still have those live birds to keep an eye on. I understand they made the courier boat trip in good condition.”
He smiled. “Make sure you wear armor, Milli, I’d hate to see more of you disappearing,” he said. “Did that come out right?”
Was he flirting? Commander Yorn giving her the eye? “I’ll be careful,” she said evenly, trying to hide her curiosity.
Isaacs and his crew were already on the move following the blue corridor to the left. Yorn reached out and shook Gertz’s left hand, placing his palm on the back of her hand. “It’s been a pleasure to sail with you Commander. Get that wing fixed and I’m sure I’ll see you again in a matter of weeks.”
She pulled away and followed the last of the gurneys. She turned one last time and waved and smiled.
The next time they met she would be literally holding his life in her hands.
Chapter 11
Chief of the Boat Osca Penny stood tall and proud. He had assembled as many of the crew as he could and approximately one hundred sailors and marines stood in ranks on opposite sides of the gangway. Not exactly a sideboy ceremony as was done on ancient sailing ships, but this would have to do. After all, he mused, there are no railings and hoist chairs on the side of a Colonial Navy warship. The BMOW — Boatswain’s Mate On Watch — fiddled with his pipe and watched for the signal.
Finally Captain Uri Haad appeared in the passageway and approached the gangway. Penny pointed at the BMOW and nodded. When Haad executed a smart right turn and came face to face with his crew, the piping began. In unison the assembled crew saluted and held the salute for the duration of the piping.
Haad grimaced, dropped his belongings and returned the salute. Then he approached his chief. “This your doing, Chief Penny?”
Penny smiled, his strong, chisled face wrinkling around his eyes. Penny was of pure old-Earth African descent and his dark complexion made his bright smile somehow brighter. “Aye, sir, my doing. Didn’t seem fitting and proper for you to leave the lady, perhaps for the last time, without a proper sendoff.”
“You men and women stand at ease,” Haad said motioning to the assembled crew. “Gather your gear and go home. We’re getting a break that we desperately deserved, don’t waste any more of your time shuffling around up here with me.”
Penny nodded and the crew broke ranks. Several of the officers and enlisted ratings gathered around the captain for final farewells. Haad shook as many hands as was possible and received enough pats on his back to cause spinal injuries. After fifteen minutes of glad-handing there were only two or three people left on the gangway.
Lieutenant Maxine Hansen and her son were among the stragglers.
“I just wanted to say thanks again, sir,” she said, “not only for myself, but for Harold and the opportunity you have given us both.”
Haad looked down at her son. He was decked out in a mini-uniform that obviously he was not very comfortable in judging by his fidgeting. “Oh, don’t thank me, lieutenant. Commander Yorn had as much to do with this as I did. Personally, I think you deserve a chance to become a valued asset to the Navy. With a little luck, this young man will prove to be a wonderful addition to the Fleet when he matures.”
“Hey, I’m already matured,” Har Hansen said. “I just hope this military school you’re sending me to is ready for me.”
That got him a laugh even from Osca Penny. “Oh, trust me, son, they’ll be ready for you. After six years there you’ll be ready for the Fleet. Trust me, been there before,” the chief said, depositing one of his massive hands on the lad’s shoulder. “I’m gonna make sure the captain let’s me attend your commissioning ceremony.”
“You hear that, Har? You’ll already have some friends in very high places,” Max said.
“Well, let’s let him get through his first semester before we pin his bars on, chief,” Haad reminded him. “Not all of the ‘recruits’ make it through their first year.”
Har stomped his foot. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that none. I’ll teach all those guys something. How many of them are going to be able to say they’ve killed a space alien?”
Max swatted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll do fine, sir. He’s really very bright for his age. School will help him with his, his, let’s say, with his attitude.”
The captain smiled and gathered his rucksack and garment bag. “I’m sure they will,” he said.
Max Hansen and Chief Penny saluted the captain and he strode away. Penny nodded at the BMOW and he piped “over the side” and Haad disappeared down the blue corridor.
* * *
It took about three hours to clear the ship. Davi Yorn paced the bridge and waited as the reports and inspections came in on the comm link. He watched with dismay as the feed from the arrival deck poured onto the blister. There must have been hundreds of greeters and media types waiting for the departing crew. Evidently the word of the derelict worm ship had found its way to Elber Prime and now all wanted to know first hand what the encounter was like.
Yorn had a crew of seven sailors with him. He was going to ferry the Corpus Christi to the repair facilities on Elber’s satellite Cantor. The quick trip should only take an hour at best and after filing a log report and reporting into the drydock master he would be catching a shuttle back to Elber, bypassing all the hoopla on the Port Authority hub.
Once he got the all clear from the quartermaster he directed his helmsman, Nono Gant, to make ready for departure. No fanfare, no ceremony, just push back, plot the course and make it happen.
Would this be the last voyage for the Christi he wondered. The
ship was not very old but she had seen her share of fighting. The encounter with the Kreet worm ship had damaged her hull, knocked her drives off-line and ruptured at least thirty pressure doors belowdecks. Probably all fixable, but the final disposition would be left up to the Fleet and what they decided was not always what was practical. He knew of ships with less damage than the Christi that were now sitting in tourist space parks getting six credits a pop for look inside tours. He hoped this ship would not suffer that fate and if the truth be told, he hoped she would sail again. He found it amusing how one could become attached to ships as if they possessed a living, breathing, almost visceral essence of their own.
At 1735 hours the Christi was given clearance to leave its docking bay. She shuddered slightly as the thrusters moved her away from the docking collar. Yorn activated his Higgs Field and established gravity for the ship. The rating in environmental control communicated that all functions were pegged in the green. He had an ensign sitting at the comm stack console and another in the ship’s CIC — Combat Information Center — which was located one deck below the bridge along with the navigation and radar shack. The ship was still a warrior even though it was in friendly territory and headed for drydock. That’s why the last crew member was stationed in the weapons bay. Why take chances?
Gant eased his hands down the control stack and pushed the ship aft. “Clearing the docking arm, commander,” he said.
“Steady as she goes, Mister Gant.”
Yorn watched as the huge docking station fell away from his left flank. Distances and angles scrolled across the huge view screen blister. Three dimensional graphs of the ship’s Euler axes flashed on the side of the screen. “Turn her about, Mister Gant, make our relative heading zero six four and pitch her nose up ten degrees.”
“Aye, coming to zero six four.”
Yorn sat in the command chair and watched the helmsman maneuver the ship with practiced ease. Five minutes later they were released from Port Authority control and Yorn had Ensign Corman contact Canton control for the hand off. The Christi was accepted by the controller on Canton and the slow cruise began. Canton was small, rocky in places, and still experienced small amounts of seismic activity owing to its still molten core. Not enough to disrupt anything on the surface but magnificent enough to provide the vid crews with spectacular low-gee eruptions every now and then. The two small volcanoes on the far side of Cantor spewed spits of lava and sparks of ash about once every ten or twelve years. Most of the local scientists speculated that Cantor was very young compared to Elber and the satellite had not been around long enough to become tidally locked with its parent. From Elber, the face of Canton was always a changing, fascinating world hanging 344,000 kilometers above the equator.
Yorn engaged in idle chat with the three men on the bridge. They were very interested in what he thought the final disposition of the ship would be. They shared war stories, complained about some of Fleet’s most restrictive rules and regulations, surfed the frequencies for old-Earth broadcasts and eventually made preparations for docking the ship.
Canton’s low gravity allowed them to berth the ship right on the surface at the built-up Navy Repair Yard. One hour and twenty minutes since push back from the Elber Port Authority station, Yorn got the high sign from his helm.
With a small lump in his throat he said, “All stop. All systems secure. Gentlemen, our job is done. Say goodbye to the Christi, she has served us well.”
Without waiting for a reply, Yorn left the bridge.
* * *
Ducking the swarm of media and other interested onlookers Uri Haad made his way down the waist of the Port Authority dock and looked at the departure board. A military shuttle was due to leave in a scant thirty minutes. That schedule suited him just fine. He went to traffic control and booked himself onto the shuttle using his military swipe card. He was instructed to proceed immediately to the holding area next to departure bay nineteen. On his way down he stopped to look up at the hulk of his ship as she waited for her departure orders.
Long black divots of scorched metal marred the hull in several places. One particular wound was severe enough to have ruptured the outer hull and expose some of the twisted and blackened support beams underneath. That must have been the blast from the Kreet vessel that had ruptured the internal pressure doors and killed dozens of his crew. The pressure from the alien blast had pushed so violently on the Christi’s surrounding Higgs Field that the field itself contributed to much of the damage.
A series of announcements from the overhead speakers got him moving again. The shuttle had room for fifty or so travelers and their personal gear. Since this craft was part of the Colonial Navy’s Military Transport Command, he knew he would have preferred seating due in part to his senior rank. Still, he hustled along with other soldiers and sailors to make the flight.
He saw and reognized several members of his crew and politely nodded when he was acknowledged by them. One of his fellow travelers was Lieutenant Commander Gena Haslip. He hoped to avoid her whining and nagging company at all costs. While an effective line officer, sometimes her constant railing against her superiors and their orders directed toward her left him feeling cold and aloof.
Haad managed to get on board the shuttle with no problem and found himself in one of the forward seats next to a chief petty officer from another ship, returning to Elber Prime from a cruise out in the Fringes. After stowing his gear in the floor compartments, he looked around for Haslip and saw her settling in five rows back on the starboard side of the ship. Whew, at least he wouldn’t have to listen to her bitch and moan all the way down.
“Pardon me, captain, I just couldn’t help but wondering if you’re in from that damaged ship, the Corpus Christi I think she’s called?”
Haad looked at his seat mate and nodded his head. “Yes, chief, I’m her captain,” he said quietly.
The man offered him a hand. “I thought so. Man, ah, sir, let me shake your hand. News of what happened out in the Loop made its way all the way out to the Fringes. Say you’re the one stared down those aliens out there and shot it out with them.”
He grimaced and looked at the sailor. The man was in his late forties, muscular and lean, with a neck that could have served as an eighty-kilo speed bag. His hand was rough and hardened and his three-blade propeller rating insignia identified him as a machinist’s mate. Haad shook the man’s hand.
“Well, chief, I don’t know what you might have heard, but, yes, we had a little encounter out in the Loop. Not the stuff of great drama but harrowing nonetheless.”
“My name is Gorn, sir, and my brother was on your ship. Working in the hull maintenance section. Quint Gorn? He told me that you guys had quite the fucking adventure. I just left him up top, he’s waiting for some ‘lady friend’ to join him.”
“Sure, I know him. A fine sailor,” Haad replied while flashing a mental picture of Quint Gorn on his internal facial recognition screen. Gorn certainly had been busy on the Christi with all the worm penetrations and the Kreet energy blasts at the hull. “Pleasure to meet you, chief.”
“I have seven brothers and we all serve. I got two out in the Fringes, two on Bayliss, one in the Loop — you know, Quint? — and two down at HQ. Come from a long line of military men, we do.”
Great. Just what he did not need at this moment. A garrulous traveling companion. “That’s great, I’m sure your family does the Navy proud.”
Chief Gorn went on for a few minutes about his family and the only thing that shut him up was the chimes announcing push back from the docking bay. Passengers were instructed to check that their personal gear was stored properly and that they remain in their seats with their tethers in place. After two minutes of safety regulations were defined and demonstrated by a rather sallow-looking seaman apprentice, the shuttle shuddered away from the docking collar and the Port Authority. Five minutes into the drop the craft’s Higgs Field was activated and the involuted spiral down to Elber began in earnest.
Haa
d exchanged more small talk with Chief Gorn and occasionally looked out of the small observation port. After twenty minutes of virtual free fall they were reaching atmosphere and he felt the bumps as the stubby wings deployed on the aft fuselages of the shuttle. No one spoke when the turbulence and whistling of thickening air started. Thin filaments of thready sparks danced by the observation port as the Higgs bled off friction-generated heat. Once the ride smoothed out a bit Gorn spoke again.
“Captain, what’s to become of your ship? My brother told me there was talk of scrapping her.”
Haad shrugged. “At this point, I don’t really know for sure. She’s been ferried to the drydock on Canton. The rest is up to the engineers over there.” He paused for a second and added, “What ship did you say you were from?”
“The Norfolk Sound, sir. For some reason, we’re being re-assigned.”
Being smart enough not to ask him where his ship just made port from, Haad simply nodded. “That’s one of the new destroyers, right?”
“Right, right. Sailed out on her brand new about fourteen months ago. Picket duty.”
That was enough information right there. The Norfolk Sound had been recalled from the Fringes. The Varson Empire. He wondered why but did not ask.
The roar of engines cut off the conversation. Speed was traded for controlled flight and soon the shuttle was in a steep glide path toward the spaceport near Nova Haven and the Colonial Navy Headquarters Complex. Haad thought they would be down in the next fifteen minutes. He could feel the slight bump when the Higgs Field was cut and normal Elber gravity kicked in. Something got loose in the aft galley and crashed to the deck. Inexperienced fliers yelped at the sudden noise but the old salts never even looked around.
“Well, captain, sir, thanks for talking. Wait until I tell Reb and Jax about this. Riding down with a true hero. Man, they’re gonna shit bricks of envy.”
The Belt Loop_Book 2_Revenge of the Varson Page 6