Dremiks (7 page)

Price muttered a brief “Yes sir” and sank back into the co-pilot’s high backed chair that, blessedly, hid him from any more of the captain’s looks.

“Fifteen minutes, Swede.” The captain sat in his chair, then looked up as Lieutenant Guttmann prepared to leave the bridge. “Lieutenant, if this cascading failure causes the navigational computers to not come back on-line, I’ll have your head.”

Swede thought he possessed steady nerves and considered himself hard to rattle. Somehow the captain’s bland, almost conversational, tone rendered his remark a threat that sincerely worried the engineer of the
Hudson
.

Chapter 4

Four days after her odd discussion with Ryan Hill in the laundry facility, Commander O’Connell stalked into the officer’s mess.

“Be seated.” The scrape of her chair and the clatter of her tablet hitting the table were suddenly the only sounds in the room. The junior officers rushed to find seats, their banter forgotten. Once every week they met, in person, with the commander to review their assignments and provide status reports. Normal status updates were provided through electronic communications on a more regular basis, sometimes even hourly. The captain and his second-in-command, however, felt that personal interaction was the only way to properly monitor the progress of their subordinates. The captain attended the briefings whenever he felt the necessity, but generally left the chore to the commander. She preferred the meetings to be brief, on-topic, and to the point.

“Engineering”

Lieutenant Guttmann always had detailed notes ready for meetings. O’Connell was far less likely to spend minutes grilling him on minutiae, but Swede believed in being prepared for any contingency. He rarely had anything untoward to report regarding the crew assigned to him. The status of the
Hudson
was another matter. He usually had a list of minor system problems to report. For once, that was not the case.

“All personnel at normal activity status. Loa and Sunni completed the condenser repair in the aft science bay at 0600. Nothing else to report.’

O’Connell nodded. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” She turned her head to the other side of the table. “Price. Civilian relations?

Tony hit the transmit button on his tablet to send his hastily scrawled notes. He resented being stuck, as he saw it, with the job of liaison to the civilians aboard the
Hudson
. His resentment showed in his work.

“Two disputes over laundry facilities between colonists and crew. Both resolved with mediation. Chancellor Trell lodged a complaint about excessively forceful vacuum tubes on E deck.”

Ensign Chi snorted with amusement then quickly looked abashed when the commander’s green eyes glared at him.

“And Marissa Hill wants the drinking water tested and the system flushed.”

O’Connell sighed. “Why?”

“She says it has a metallic taste and is tainted with lead.”

This time it was Swede who sighed. “Impossible.”

“Impossible or not, I want it checked out. The crew involved in the laundry dispute, any disciplinary action required?”

“Not in my opinion, ma’am. It was a silly matter solved by a good lecture on common sense.”

“Send me a detailed write-up all the same. If Trell goes to the captain, I don’t want to be left twisting in the wind.”

The co-pilot looked disgruntled but replied with a dutiful “Yes, ma’am.”

Ensign Chi was the next to be questioned. As supply and logistics officer, it was his responsibility to oversee the food and fuel stores aboard the ship. While Lieutenant Guttmann’s engineering department kept the water running and the fuel recycling systems working, Chi still had to monitor the usage of all materials aboard. Once they reached Dremiks, he would also be tasked with ensuring that all supplies were safely and properly delivered to the new colony.

Chi’s notes, to the annoyance of his superiors, never followed any predictable pattern. The ensign was always very precise, sometimes tediously so, but his penchant for tangents drove O’Connell insane. This time, his presentation was brief and bland, as was the report from Ensign Robertson who was in charge of ship communications.

“Please be sure to relay to all personnel and colonists that communications traffic between the ship and Orion station beacons will be terminated twelve hours prior to the jump. All channels and signals will be tied up with official communications at that time.”

Robertson looked flustered. “I… I was not aware of this ma’am. It was not in my briefing papers, and I don’t know…”

O’Connell hadn’t mastered the art of raising one eyebrow to show her displeasure. She relied, instead, on a steady, tight lipped, stare. Her look brought Robertson’s stuttering to a sudden stop.

“This is a directive from ISA command and Captain Hill. There will be no discussion or debate. If any of our guests have any comments, they can log them with Lieutenant Price.” She gave the officer in question a side-long, falsely sweet, smile.

When no one else dared speak on the matter, she clasped her hands on the tabletop. “If there are no other matters, we’re adjourned. The captain wishes to meet with all department heads twenty-four hours before our jump. The exact time will be communicated to you. Double check your duty rosters and leave some flexibility in your schedules. Dismissed.”

O’Connell stayed behind to consult and consolidate the reports from the junior officers. The men filed out of the room quietly. Once the door clicked shut behind them, Ensign Chi’s almond-shaped eyes crinkled at the edges with amusement. He looked at his roommate, Ensign Robertson. “So, cards tonight? You might need a good game before you have to be the bearer of bad news.”

Behind the two ensigns, Swede rolled his eyes. He elbowed Price in the ribs. Tony nodded. “So, yeah, there were these mates of mine at Eton. They knew our rugby match was out-of bounds, and they knew all about the secrecy involved but could they keep their bleedin’ mouths shut when we were five feet from the headmaster? No, not these bleaters.”

Robertson turned around. “Sir? You had to have rugby games in secret?”

Chi sighed. Swede reached one large hand over and gripped the top of the shorter man’s head. With comical puppeteer motions, he forced the Asian man to nod at his friend. “Yes,” he intoned in a high pitched voice nothing like Chi’s. “They had to play rugby in secret, Nate. Don’t you wonder how they explained all the bruises and missing teeth? Keep running your mouth about our card games, and you just might find out.”

Nate had the good grace to shrug and look chagrined. “Sorry, sirs.”

“Right you are. Toddle on now, we strong,
silent
, types have real work to do.” Price made a shooing motion with his hand and turned his back on them. Swede softened the rebuke by winking playfully and patting Chi on the head after releasing him.

When the two were far enough away, Guttmann looked over at Price. “We have real work to do?”

“Well, you always have work to do. Myself, I’m going to try to beat O’Connell’s record on the simulator.”

Swede was distracted by an electrical panel that was blinking on the bulkhead. He waved his hand over his head. “Go do your pilot things then. You won’t beat her, though. Not in a simulator.”

“Whatever.” Tony tugged at his flight-suit and fixed his hair. “See you after my watch.”

“Hey, don’t forget to tell Trell about the meeting with the captain.” Swede turned around and noticed the empty corridor behind him. “Price?” He took a few steps and looked down the other way, past the officer’s mess. No one was around. “What did he do, run?” The lieutenant shook his large blonde head and went back to studying the blinking panel.

***

Dwax floated to the medical bay. He preferred humans to use the term “float” instead of the repulsive “slither” that some found so applicable. He wished he could understand the human psyche’s need to associate anything that had tentacles with slimy, slithering, creatures of the muck and wet. Dwax had never once slithered and he hated being dirty. In one of his arm tentacles, he carried a stack of disks for Dr. Ruger.

Trained to follow in his father’s diplomatic footsteps, according to the rigid caste system of his home-world, Dwax had no useful medical knowledge. His father had, however, considered it a diplomat’s duty to supply Dr. Ruger with several weighty tomes on the subject. Much as he was bored by all things medicinal, Dwax was fascinated by the coffee-skinned doctor and her soft voice. Happily freed from a meeting with Chancellor Trell, Dwax looked forward to an afternoon in the doctor’s company.

Right outside the medical bay Dwax encountered Ensign Robertson. They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before Nate excused himself.

“I’m sorry, Honored One, but I must beg your leave. I have to go inform the Chancellor and Vice Chancellor about a communications blackout.”

“There is a problem with the systems?”

“Oh no, no.” Robertson rushed to clarify. Dwax noticed the ensign almost whispered his explanation. “The captain has decided that only official traffic, approved communications messages, can be sent twelve hours before and after the jump.”

Both the Dremikian and Ensign Robertson kept their features neutral. “Ah. Yes. Well I am sure the Chancellor will be happy to oblige.”

“Not.”

Dwax was confused. “I have used the wrong words? He will
not
be obliged?”

Nate grinned, his tension broken. “No, well… oh, never mind. I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Yes! Please. Good day to you.” Dwax bowed in return to Nate’s formal salute. He was glad the ensign was so friendly and comfortable around Dremikians. Nate’s news was troubling but Dwax had a few hours to work out a way to slip his messages out. He would first spend a bit of free time with the nice doctor.

***

That evening, Commander O’Connell called attention on deck when the captain entered the officer’s mess room. Captain Hill motioned everyone to his seat and nodded his thanks for the cup of coffee Ensign Chi handed him. Once seated, he laid his tablet precisely on the table and nodded once to the commander.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “All right people, let’s get through this. We are twenty-four hours from first jump. We’ve all done this before. You know your duties and assignments. Please remember that jumps are designated “all hands” maneuvers. Make sure your people are properly scheduled and prepared. No mistakes because of fatigue, please.”

Captain Hill watched the expressions of the officers and senior civilian personnel. His brother, Ryan Hill, was seated in Chancellor Trell’s spot at the table. Brett Hill had personally requested the Chancellor’s presence. The change in routine brought a severe frown to the captain’s face. He turned to Lieutenant Price, who was in charge of civilian and military cooperation.

“Price, ensure that Chancellor Trell is aware of the all-hands status and the need for all civilian personnel to be awake and on-station for one hour prior to and one hour after the jump.”

O’Connell flicked her gaze to Ryan Hill. She expected to see him bristle or at least look irritated. Instead he sipped his tea and continued to appear supremely bored. As if he felt her watching him, Ryan’s blue eyes lazily drifted up and locked on her face. His mouth quirked slightly at the corners. Without turning his head he said, “I’m sure I’m trustworthy enough to relay any messages to my colleague, brother.”

To Maggie’s uneasy mind, Ryan seemed to add extra emphasis to the word “trustworthy”. She turned her attention back to the captain and discovered with added unease that he was watching the interplay between her and his brother. Irritated at being put off-balance by the Hill brothers, Maggie charged ahead with the briefing.

“Doctor,” she snapped. “Do you have any questions about medical emergency procedures?

Cassie had her tablet ready for note-taking, but had been sitting quietly with nothing to record or question. She either ignored or missed O’Connell’s tone and shook her head with a sunny smile. “I’m probably more ready than anyone else. If everyone does his job correctly then I have nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Captain Hill chuckled and favored the doctor with a rare smile. “I hope it is a very boring ride for you, Doctor. But, should we disappoint and fail in our assignments, will you be ready to step in and patch us up?”

Typically at sea while military jargon and procedures whizzed over her head at briefings, Cassie was on firm ground now. She happily read off the assignments for her medical crew and the disaster emergency training rotations that she had completed in the past week. “Captain,” she summarized, “if all crew remember to turn on their personal medical chips so that I receive constant feedback on their health and welfare, I assure you that even the slightest scratch will be promptly treated and recorded.”

Captain Hill, still unhappy that his military surgeon had been scrubbed from the mission at the last moment, was slowly attaining a comfort level with Dr. Ruger. Her outgoing personality, optimism, and medical professionalism soothed his lingering doubts. He smiled at her again. “Thank you for all your hard work, Doctor.” His eyes cut a few feet to the left of Dr. Ruger where Dr. Fortunas leaned backward in his chair. The white haired scientist, hands folded over his belly, nodded in acknowledgement of the captain’s perusal.

“I assume you haven’t changed your mind and decided to allow me to run a few short, totally unobtrusive, experiments during our jump?”

The captain said nothing, his features austere.

“Mmm, I thought as much. Well then, I am the proverbial third wheel. I shall sit in my assigned jump-seat and take a nap while you all endeavor to
not
send us hurtling into the sun.”

“We appreciate your confidence,” the captain said dryly.

The officer’s mess and conference room was not a large space. Packed as it was with nine people, the temperature had already risen. The small table also made it very easy for the captain to notice when Lieutenant Price and Ensign Robertson began to fidget.