Metal Boxes - Rusty Hinges (9 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Stone grunted as his mind whirled with weird possibilities and stupid ideas on how to recover from their predicament. He didn’t have enough information. No one else appeared to know either.

Butcher said, “Astrogation, can you do a chart and find out where we are?”

“Already on it, Captain. Hopefully, we’re in our own galaxy.”

Whizzer snorted and said, “Even being in the same galaxy might leave us screwed. Our galaxy isn’t even one of the big ones and human space only covers a tiny fraction of it.”

Emmons patted his hand. “We got here, we can get back. It’s just a matter of knowing where we are, where we’re going and the math in between, right?” She didn’t look too sure of her own analysis.

Whizzer said, “That and finding the right jump point. Without that, we won’t know how far we have to go in hyperspace. I may only be a geologist, but I’ve been to space before, you know.”

Emmons nodded, “And I may only be a behaviorist, but I’m not a complete idiot, you know.” Her voice imitated and mocked him, but he didn’t appear to be upset by it.

Stone said, “Jumping into hyperspace without finding a standard navigation point and without knowing how long to stay in the gray can throw the ship back into normal space anywhere. We need a clear nav point to know where to enter hyperspace.”

Whizzer said, “A ship can jump out of hyperspace anywhere. But you must know how far to go or you won’t know where you’ll end up.”

Stone shook his head, “Actually, it’s not how far, but how long. There isn’t anything in the gray, not time, not distance. Without any distances, a ship travels a certain amount of time.” Whizzer was about to protest, but Stone waved him down. He stood up and pointed at Missimaya. “Say the lieutenant is Allie’s World and the major is Brickman’s station.” Pulling his civilian personal assistant from his pocket, he continued, “The navy has identified two separate nav points for jumping between these locations.”

He put the p.a. on the table in front of Missimaya. “This is a ship. Taking the normal jump, a ship will only have a few days in hyperspace between those two systems.” Flicking the p.a. with a finger, it scooted across the table to stop in front of Numos. “That’s one of the quickest jumps I know of, although the systems themselves are a long distance from each other.”

Stone reached across the table and picked up the p.a. “If the ship takes the other nav point and jumps to Brickman’s station, it can take weeks.” He walked around the table and set the p.a. in front of Numos. “Same distance, but time in the gray is a factor.”

Emmons asked, “How do you know when to jump out of hyperspace to get where you’re going?”

Numos said, “That’s a question for computers and the navigation geniuses.” He hooked a thumb at the cluster of officer’s gathered around the nav console.

Stone nodded, “I think the Hyrocanians tried to jump into the same system we did and they were rebuffed just like we were. We don’t know how long they stayed in hyperspace or where they came out. Wherever they were, they found a navigation point to jump into hyperspace and then jumped out again at random. That last random leap put them at Allie’s World. They didn’t know where they were, but if they could have retraced their steps, they could have led a fleet to our doorstep.”

Numos said, “That’s why we had to capture or destroy the Rusty Hinges.”

Stone agreed, “We just met the problem in retracing their steps — a system we can’t access.”

Whizzer said, “I doubt if they could have backtracked their course. Their navigation records are so spotty, we didn’t find out about them being refused access to that system.”

Missimaya had looked thoughtful throughout the discussion. “That’s what I was wondering about. How did that work? I mean, I’ve never heard of a weapon that can throw something the size of a spaceship into hyperspace. That isn’t a Hyrocanian trick that I’ve ever heard of. I would love to get my hands on that tech to see how it works.”

Numos shook his head. “It’s a nice trick, but it still leaves your enemy alive and in an unknown location. Living enemies are dangerous. I prefer a nice field of mines that can eliminate any hostiles.”

Missimaya said, “You’ve got to admit that a repulsing technology would have some wonderful applications.”

Numos grunted, “I don’t have to admit any such thing. I don’t send my marines into combat with tasers to disable the enemy. We meet them with bombs and bullets.”

Stone was still standing beside Numos and that might make it appear he agreed with the marine officer, but he didn’t want to move and give the impression he disagreed. He tried to look thoughtful as the two officers scowled at each other.

Missimaya said, “Marines do carry some non-lethal weapons.”

Numos said, “Yes. When we need to capture. But this repulsar mine didn’t capture us. It simply removed us from the field of battle, completely unharmed and combat ready.”

“What good is combat ready when we don’t know where or who to fight?”

“Combat ready is always right because you don’t know where or when.”

Missimaya looked thoughtful. “I still want to get my hands on that tech. It there was some way to steal it—”

Stone started to interrupt but the two officers weren’t done arguing. Stone was rather distressed that a naval officer would be talking about taking technology from an alien race rather than attempting to trade for it, so instead of getting between two senior officers, he moved next to the monitor at the end of the table. The display showed a completely unremarkable starfield. He flicked a few control buttons and managed to find a replay of the astrogation monitors. The computer was comparing the stars in their current location to known star charts. The screen was flashing through chart after chart faster than he could register as the computer sought to find a match using known distances and easily recognizable star signatures.

He started to say something to Whizzer and Emmons but the two were arguing about some theory or another.

Whizzer said, “… if this had happened, then we would know —”

Emmons interrupted, “But that didn’t happen. However, knowing what did happen, maybe that system’s aliens —”

“Maybe? No, Kat. How can you guess about aliens?”

“I’d be a better guesser than you. They aren’t rocks, you know?”

“I don’t know any such thing. But maybe —”

Rather than interrupt either argument, Stone walked over to Captain Butcher’s chair and stood waiting to be recognized. He was surprised to hear that the captain, the XO, and the second watch officer weren’t discussing their current predicament, but reviewing next week’s duty roster, a singularly boring task. He realized they needed more information to make a good decision and rather than devolve into guesswork, they were doing something practical.

Finally, Butcher looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Sir, I was wondering if we could have someone work on getting a fix on the system we were just denied access to while we wait for a good location fix.”

Gupta asked, “I agree, Ensign Stone, that would be a good thing to know. How would you propose we do that?”

Stone said, “Sir, when we replayed the high speed video of exiting hyperspace, we caught two or three clear frames of the solar system. Admittedly we can’t see much in most of them, but the first frame does show us a planet and its moons, as well as their starfield in the background.”

Li asked, “What good is it to know the location of a solar system we can’t go to?”

Butcher looked at Li, “Seriously? I can think of a dozen good reasons, the best being that nav points aren’t the only way to reach a star system. They’re just the easiest and quickest way.”

Butcher nodded at Gupta. The XO replied, “I’m on it, Captain.”

With a nod, Butcher dismissed Stone and spoke loudly enough for everyone on the bridge to hear. “Major Numos, please have your marines stand down. Commander Gupta, please take us off general quarters. You have the con. Everyone not working on our location problem can clear the bridge. I think we’re going to be here a while.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Stone plopped into a seat at an open table. He remembered this room from the battle to capture Rusty Hinges. The vast room was a Hyrocanian cafeteria with walls, pens, and cages to hold live creatures. The four-armed freaks preferred to listen to their victims screams as they ate them. The walls had been removed during the retrofit, turning the space into one big dining area with a new kitchen set to the side.

In the month they remained idle waiting for the computers to determine their location, someone had painted the walls a pleasant, neutral beige. He could still see marks on the floor where the former cages and pens had been. The memory turned his stomach and almost made him lose his appetite, but he had to eat.

His body seemed to churn faster than it did before his DNA got mixed with drasco spit, blood, and sperm, not to mention whatever it was that caused his military nanites to malfunction. He felt like he was hungry all of the time. The medical staff said his hunger was because he was a nineteen year old male and all such creatures were hungry all of the time. They did admit they still didn’t know what was happening to his body.

He hadn’t grown any taller in the last two years, nor had his muscles bulked up more, yet his body seemed to be getting heavier, more dense. He was a little faster and a lot stronger, but the average marine could still kick his butt as Hammermill repeatedly demonstrated in the gym. Hammer always laughed and said it was training, not brute strength, but Stone thought it had more to do with the will to fight than anything else.

Still, the changes in his body made him hungry. He wondered if the changes in his body were what made him constantly think about sex. He hoped that was normal for a man his age, but he was too embarrassed to ask the medical staff about it. Allie said it was normal, but what did she know? She’d never been a nineteen-year-old male.

“Hey, Boss.” Dollish interrupted his thoughts. The spacer carried two trays. “I noticed you hadn’t filled a plate yet, so I brought you one.”

Stone grinned, “Thanks, Tim.” He pointed at the cafeteria buffet line. “I thought I’d wait until the crowd eased up some.”

Dollish slid a tray in front of him. “I made this up special for you. That stew is a little higher in carbohydrates than we normally feed the rest of these chowhounds. I fortified up some of the Cajun jambalaya I made today.”

“Have a seat, Tim. Join me.”

Dollish shook his head. “I can’t, sir. You’re sitting at a table reserved for officers. I’ll just go sit over there somewhere.”

“Only if you want to. If I invite you to stay here, then you can. It won’t be the first time we shared a meal.”

Dollish dropped into a chair. “That’s the truth, Boss. The first time I fed you we were sitting in the dirt. I will admit the seating here is more comfortable than back on Allie’s World. Yes, sir, good times.”

Stone said, “Spacer Dollish, you have a different definition of good times than I do.”

Dollish laughed, “We ain’t dead, sir. How bad could it have been?” The spacer had a large salad in front of him and began to shovel the greens into his mouth, still chuckling with his mouth full.

Stone laughed with him. “Yeah. Starvation, attacks by wild creatures, bombed back to the stone age by the Hyrocanians, and a traitorous bitch in our midst. How could I forget all those good times?” He dug into his stew with relish. It was much more flavorful that the first stew Dollish had made him on Allie’s World.

“Governor — I mean, Ensign, we might be facing starvation here if your piglets weren’t supplementing our supplies.”

Stone looked around expecting to see Shorty and Sissie, but they weren’t there. “Tim, the piglets aren’t mine.”

“You have to tell them that.”

“I’ve tried, but they won’t listen.” Changing subjects, Stone asked, “Are their gardens that helpful?” He took a bite of celery and green pepper. They tasted fresh, not dehydrated or frozen. He pointed at the bowl. “Their vegetables?”

“Yes, Boss. We’re getting half our supplies from them. It’ll make what we brought last much longer. We’ve been idle for a month, right? Well, we have a chicken breeding farm a few decks down. That’ll provide us with fresh protein in time, but it takes five to six weeks to go from chick to chicken parmesan and we ain’t been stuck that long … yet.”

“So, we’re running out of chicken?” He took a bite of andouille sausage, the spicy meat filling his mouth with heat.

Dollish looked around and said conspiratorially, “We ran out of chicken last week. The chicken in our chicken parmesan is more rat that foul.”

“Remind me to stay away from the chicken.”

Dollish pointed at the bowl. “Boss, I make my jambalaya with chicken, andouille sausage, and shrimp. The shrimp is frozen and preformed, but we ran out of andouille a week ago — the day before we ran out of chicken.”

Stone let that sink in. He pointed at the bowl. “Chicken and sausage?”

Dollish shrugged. “Sort of, Boss. Whoever planned this snafu didn’t plan on us being stuck in the middle of nowhere this long. We’ve learned to make do before, right?”

“More than once, Tim.”

“Can I ask how much longer we might be stuck here?”

“I don’t know. The computers are on their fourth iteration, seeking a destination we can reach before our grandchildren are too old to enjoy it. There just aren’t any known systems in this region. There are a couple of systems nearby that we can get to in a couple of months, but at this point all we know is they have suns and a few rocky planets.”

“So nowhere we could resupply with moss or the odd bit of rat?”

“Not that we can tell from this far away. The optics just aren’t that good on the Rusty Hinges.”

“Nothing is, sir. This old crate is —”

Both men were startled when Butcher gently slapped Dollish on the shoulder and dropped into a seat next to him. “What’s on the menu, gentlemen?” The captain’s steward, a low ranking ensign stood patiently behind him. Butcher pointed at the bowl of stew in front of Stone. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

Dollish stopped the steward. “That exact item isn’t on the menu, sir. It’s fortified special for Ensign Stone with extra carbs and vitamins. There’s some regular jambalaya or a nice chicken parmesan on the line.” He glanced at Stone, who simply rolled his eyes at Dollish’s menu suggestions, noting that Dollish had restricted himself to a salad and nothing else.

Butcher shook his head, “I’m the captain of a ship and it’s a sad state of affairs that I still don’t get my own chef. What do I have to do to get a meal specially made by the famous Chef Tim Dollish?”

“Save my life a few times.” Dollish answered, then realized who he was talking to. Blushing a deep red, he stammered, “Sir, sorry. I …”

Butcher laughed, “Well, if that’s all it takes, I’ll have to see what I can do.”

Missimaya and two other officers set their trays down and dropped into chairs, each nodding respectfully at the captain and Stone. They began eating each ignoring Dollish as if the man wasn’t there. Dollish stared at his plate.

Stone looked around him. He hadn’t realized the dining area had become so stratified. Lower enlisted were at the far end of the cafeteria, senior enlisted were in the middle, and the officers were near the far end, as if trying to remove themselves from the lower ranks. The marines were off to one side. At least they didn’t separate their officers from enlisted. 2LT Escamilla was eating with her platoon. On the other side was a gaggle of civilians. As segregated as they were, Stone knew Dollish would be uncomfortable here and his intention had been to eat with a friend, not make the man embarrassed.

He started to say something, but Butcher interrupted. “Tim, did you make the chicken parm?”

Dollish didn’t look up, but shook his head, “No, sir. I did manage to keep the cook from putting too much basil in his marinara, but the only thing I made was the Cajun jambalaya and rice. Oh, and the fruit cobbler and key lime pie are mine, sir.”

Butcher nodded to his steward. “Bring us some of those, Bob. And bring some for yourself.”

Stone realized that would be more officers sitting at the table. “Captain Butcher, I’m sorry. I must have missed the orders about reserving tables for officers only.”

Butcher frowned, “There aren’t — but —” He looked around seeing what Stone had just seen. “When did this happen?”

Missimaya looked up from his chicken parmesan, grinning proudly. “I set this up a week ago, Captain. I hoped you’d notice. Since we might be stuck here awhile, I wanted to set things up as traditional as possible, this should work until we can build some temporary walls.”

Butcher smiled and nodded approvingly. Stone had known Butcher for a few years and easily recognized that the smile wasn’t real. Missimaya apparently didn’t.

Missimaya added, “Surely, it wouldn’t be to anyone’s benefit to mix navy and marines together, especially since their officers really are just trumped up enlisted and we know that enlisted and officers really don’t mix well.” He glanced at Dollish. “No offense, Spacer. I’m sure you were invited to the table for a valid reason.”

Stone asked, “No offense? Lieutenant Missimaya, how do you figure that isn’t offensive to an enlisted man?”

Missimaya snapped, “Watch your tone, Ensign.”

“Yes sir. I meant no offense.” No one at the table could miss the sarcasm in his voice. He glanced up as the captain’s steward slid a tray in front of Butcher. The steward back stepped and took a seat at a nearby table. Stone hoped he could remember to commend the man on his observation skills noting that this table was going to rapidly dissolve into a place for anything but a quiet meal.

Butcher snapped at Stone, “Ensign. Do you agree with your superior officer Lieutenant Missimaya that navy and marine personnel shouldn’t mix?” His tone sounded like Doctor Wyznewski when the scientist was trying to trap Stone with a trick question.

“No sir. I disagree.”

Missimaya said, “You think marines are as good as navy?” The man sounded surprised.

“No, Lieutenant. I disagree that you’re a superior officer. You are a higher ranking officer, but not better.” The man sputtered as Butcher chuckled. Stone waved Missimaya quiet when the man tried to respond. “A man won’t follow you because you have a higher rank and have lorded your position over him. He will follow you because you have earned his trust. How can a man learn to trust you when he doesn’t know you? My relationship with marines has saved my life more than once because they know me. Spacer First Class Timothy Oliphant Dollish makes me special meals because he knows me. Even the piglets do what I ask, not because I order them to, but because they know me.”

Butcher nodded, “Lieutenant Missimaya, that sounds like something you could learn from Ensign Stone.”

Stone said, “Thank you, Captain, but I learned that from a marine. And I’ll tell you this, sir, marine officers aren’t just trumped up enlisted. They start as enlisted and move up through the ranks to become an officer once they’ve proven themselves.”

Missimaya sniffed his disapproval. “I think your personal,” he looked pointedly at Butcher, “and ill-advised relationship with a marine officer has colored your judgment. Don’t you agree, Captain?”

“No, I don’t, Lieutenant. I know Lieutenant Vedrian. You obviously do not. Not only is she an outstanding marine, she is intelligent, creative, and witty. As to ill-advised relationships — on my home planet your sexual relationship with both of these gentlemen would get you stoned on the village square as a sodomite. I left home because of their narrow minded laws and have tried ever since to let people be in their personal life.” He spun on Stone. “Except your Corporal Tuttle, can’t you get her to at least be a bit more discrete?”

Stone shook his head, “I would, sir, but she isn’t mine anymore. I’ll speak to Allie — Lieutenant Vedrian, her platoon commander, and see what we can do. Besides, I don’t think we can control Tuttle without a muzzle and a leash — and I’m afraid she’d like that.”

Missimaya sputtered, “Be that as it may, Captain. Ensign Senior Grade Stone is younger than his rank would indicate. It would be in his best interest and the interest of his family, to protect him from an obvious gold-digger who’s just out for his —”

“Enough,” Stone roared. “Your comments have gone beyond bounds. One more personal insult and I will … I will …” His voice faded away as he realized he wasn’t the governor of all he surveyed anymore. The cafeteria had suddenly become quiet. Everyone’s eyes flicked toward Stone, Missimaya and the captain, although a scant few actually turned to face them.

“You’ll what?” Missimaya sneered. “I’m a superior officer, whether you accept that or not. Even with the captain here, you can’t do anything. Everyone knows you were a favorite of the emperor, but you’re not now. Everyone knows you screwed up the exploitation of the Allie’s World system. That’s why the emperor fired you and sent you on this failure of a mission on this piece of crap old ship.”

Butcher looked at Stone, “Yes, Ensign Stone. What will you do if Lieutenant Senior Grade Missimaya continues to personally insult you?”

“Sir, I don’t care if he insults me all day long. But if he insults Lieutenant Vedrian or my friend Tim Dollish, I will file a formal complaint of abuse.”