Temporary Duty (31 page)

There were a lot of people, in an array of different costumes, from
kathir
suits in various patterns to tunic-and-trousers outfits, some conservative, some brilliant. They all looked around as they exited, and there were a number of headshakes. Apparently new paint and clean decks in the ops bay weren’t generally expected by the party.

A third
dli
, again a "standard" one, entered and parked next to the first two. When the last few came down the steps and closed the hatches, Peters guessed that nearly three hundred people had disembarked from the three ships, and two more sparks were still visible aft. Those resolved themselves into freight-haulers that came in one at a time but didn’t stop, just taxiied to the forward hangar access and disappeared without being unloaded.
There’ll be enough room in the forward hangars,
Peters thought,
but only just.

A blue-and-white brought out a gadget like a wheelbarrow, which she attached to the nosewheel of the "big
dli
" and began jockeying it into the hangars. The smaller
dli
began moving on their own, as usual, and the bay doors closed with the normal cacaphony. The crews manning the retarders did a few final checks and disappeared up the bay; hangar access doors closed with their milder clangs and bangs; finally there was no one left in the ops bay but sailors, lining the sidewalls and exchanging looks.

Peters shook his head. "I notice the Captain came out to meet those folks. He didn’t do that for Dreelig or for our guys."

"Which says Dreelig isn’t exactly high up in the Grallt system," Todd remarked.

"And I reckon we ain’t either." He took a couple of steps, Todd not commenting. "What’s this?"

A
zerkre
was exchanging frustrations with a couple of sailors by the entrance to enlisted quarters. Neither she nor the sailors had enough of the others’ language to communicate, and she was starting to get loud. The sailors, a pair of First Classes from the tin-bending shop, were trying dumbshow but getting nowhere. «Pleasant greetings,» Peters said in Grallt. «Can I help in some way?»

«Oh, wonderful, someone I can talk to,» said the crewman with a grimace of relief. «I have the departure schedule.» She waved a piece of paper.

«That should go to my superior,» Peters told her.

«Yes, I understand that,» said the crewman. «I was trying to reach him to deliver it. Perhaps you can do that.»

«No, I should not, but I can escort you,» Peters told her. «Just a moment.» "She needs to see Chief Joshua," he told the other sailors in English. "Got our movement orders."

"Not a minute too soon," one of the others remarked. "Hell, Peters, go ahead, we’re not on guard duty. What the hell was going on a little while ago? I thought the ambassador was the only one dealing with the people on Earth."

"Keezer said trade delegations," Peters said with a shrug. "They got things they ain’t ready to pass on to the peons. So what else is new?"

The other sailor grinned a little worriedly. "You got that right," he opined.

"Chief in his quarters?"

"Last I looked."

"Thanks." He addressed the Grallt: «Come with us. We will take you to Chief Joshua.»

Joshua looked up when Peters rapped on the doorframe. He took in the two sailors and their Grallt companion and frowned. "Come," he said briskly. "What’s up, Peters?"

«This is the person who should receive the message,» he told the crewwoman. "Movement orders, I reckon," he said to Joshua.

The Chief took the paper, looked it over, and frowned. "I can’t read this," he complained.

Peters shrugged. "I can’t neither, at least not too good. Hang on." He turned to the
zerkre
, who had started to edge past on her way to the door. «Can you wait a moment?» he asked. «I can speak the Trade, but I don’t read it well. What does this document tell us?»

The Grallt shrugged. «Nothing unusual. The zifthkakik will be activated at the end of the first utle after first meal. Everyone should take the first meal as usual, and be in their living quarters during the transition.»

Peters relayed that to the Chief, who grunted. "Leaving, are we?"

"Looks as if, Chief."

Joshua grunted again. "Any special precautions we ought to take?" He glared at the Grallt, who returned it impassively. "As I understand it, we’re about to go faster than light and head out for another star, right? Seems to me that might call for, oh, I dunno, seat belts?"

Peters relayed that, or its gist, to the Grallt, who smiled. «You should stay in your rooms until the change is complete,» she told him. «No other care is needed.»

«How long will the change take?»

The Grallt frowned. «Usually about three or four tle. It might take longer this time, because I understand we are far from our normal course, and the Captain needs time to get the ship properly aligned.»

"What’s she saying, Peters? I can’t follow that gabble," Joshua said irritably.

"She says there ain’t nothin’ to do bar stayin’ in our quarters ’til the Skipper gets the new course lined out, Chief. Matter of twenty minutes, maybe a little longer."

"Does anything on this–" The Chief flipped the edge of the paper with a fingertip, causing it to almost slide off the table "–say anything about where we’re going?"

The crewwoman shrugged again when that was passed on. «Perhaps. Let me look at it.» Peters retrieved the paper and handed it to her while she went on, «The traders know, but for the rest of us, we live on the ship. The name of the planet nearby isn’t anything that matters to us.» She examined the paper, handed it back to Peters. «It says our destination is Keelisika. Does that mean anything to you?»

«No, it does not–doesn’t,» said Peters. "She says the orders take us to Keelisika, Chief," he repeated. "Ring any bells?"

"No." Chief Joshua leaned forward, elbows on the table, glaring at the Grallt, who returned it impassively. "Peters, you think you might be able to puzzle any more out of that document by yourself?"

"Maybe," Peters told him cautiously.

"All right." It was a growl. Then, in halting Grallt: «Thank you. Good day.» His accent was bad, but the words were understandable.

The zerkre grinned and returned a nod. «Good day,» she said agreeably, and marched out without ceremony.

Joshua shook his head. "Lord. Peters, come here, let’s see what else we can get from this."

"Right, Chief."

"And for God’s sake sit down. Now what the hell’s this?" His fingers stabbed down on a clause.

Peters took a seat, perched on its edge, and studied the paper. "That there’s the part about when we’re leavin’, Chief. See, there’s the numbers; first
llor
, first
ande
, and this here word means ‘end’ …."

The document was handwritten, or at any rate carefully hand block-printed; only one page, and sparse at that. They were to go to their quarters immediately after the first meal; they were to stay in those quarters until the evolution was completed; the ship was going to Keelisika, wherever (and whatever) that was. The only new information was that loose gear was to be secured–at least, that’s what Peters got out of a sentence advising that "… tools should be put away properly …"

"I think we’re done here," Joshua observed. "Do me a favor, though, and go see if you can scare up Chief Warnocki and Chief Spearman. Ask them to come see me."

"Aye, Chief," Peters said with enough relief in his voice to attract a sideways glance from Joshua as he stood. "Chief Warnocki was havin’ chow the last time I seen him, and I reckon I can find Chief Spearman."

"Good. And start passing the word." Chief Joshua held up the paper. "Tell everybody we’ll be making up working parties and seeing to it that everything’s secure." He laid the paper on the desk, glared at it, then at Peters. "These people may think of heading out to another star the same way Granddaddy did of driving across town, but I can’t help thinking it needs a little more prep than that. We are going to have all our gear battened down before it happens."

"Glad to hear it, Chief," Peters said without thinking; then thought,
Oh, shit!

But the Chief didn’t react, or at least didn’t explode. "We agree on something, do we? I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that." He waved, a flick of the fingers. "Carry on."

"Aye, Chief." Peters nodded and left, Grallt style. The waiters spoke English but hadn’t changed their procedures, and everybody was starting to do that. Amazing how useful it was.

* * *

Peters sat on his bunk, back to the bulkhead, arms folded over his knees. Todd lay prone, with his arms under his head, the picture of relaxation if you discounted the clenched teeth.

Lacking any data about exactly what was to happen, the detachment had secured for foul weather. The airplanes were boomed down to padeyes in the hangar deck with short chains, as was anything else too heavy to lift easily. Everything small enough was stowed in lockers with the latches closed, every latch checked by somebody other than the one who secured it. Personal gear was stowed and the latches secured. All the sailors were in their quarters, in kathir suits with deck gear over, lacking the flak jackets and helmets. There wasn’t any way to secure the chairs at the study desks, and Peters was a little concerned about that. On the other hand, they weren’t new by any stretch, and didn’t have any dings or scratches other than those you’d expect from normal wear. Given that, Peters really didn’t expect much in the next few minutes, but it didn’t hurt to take precautions, at least the first time.

There was a rap on the connecting door, and Howard peered out, face apprehensive. "Hey, guys," he said tentatively. "Mind if I join you?"

Peters shrugged and half-smiled, a quirk of the corner of his mouth. "Come ahead." He scooted over a bit, leaving space on the bunk.

Howard shut the door, checked the latch, and sat down, feet on the floor, arms crossed over his chest. "Sorry," he said, and shook his head. "The collywobbles were starting to set in. I’ve never even been on a cruise, and now this."

"I know what you mean," said Todd. His voice was tense, but nowhere near cracking, and he didn’t change position. "I’ve been on a few cruises, but this is a little different."

"I reckon we’re all nervous for nothin’," Peters observed. "The Grallt don’t seem to have no problems with it." First meal had been a matter of tense body language, exchanged glances, and low voices, but only among the humans. The Grallt had been chatting and lounging about as usual, and had exchanged glances and comments of their own, mostly in obvious amusement at the nervousness of the sailors.

"Just nervous in the service," Howard observed, getting the obligatory perfunctory chuckles at the century-old (or better) joke. "I don’t–look, something’s happening."

They’d all become accustomed to the view out the window: Earth, Moon, starfield, or some combination, drifting by as the ship rotated slowly. Now stars were flowing by much too fast to follow, upper left to lower right from their point of view, and a flash was the Moon going by too quickly for anything but a subliminal impression of a crescent. That went on for a few seconds, then stopped abruptly. At no time did they feel anything out of the ordinary; if their eyes had been closed they’d have thought nothing was happening.

After about thirty seconds the starfield moved again, a quick jerk from right to left that took less than a second. That was repeated at irregular intervals and in different directions: left to right, various angles, up to down. At no time was there any sensation of movement.

"Well, I reckon they must be done with that part," said Peters when nothing had happened for two or three minutes. "Wasn’t much to–
oshit!
"

Stars forward of the midpoint of the window flowed forward and the rest aft, leaving a black void in the middle. At the same time there was a brief sensation of acceleration, or rather deceleration, like the feeling when a fast elevator stopped, and directed forward rather than aft, as if the ship had stopped instead of speeding up. The sensation was so faint that they would never have noticed it except in contrast to the normal rock-solid feeling of the ship, and lasted a second at most. Then the stars snapped back to normal like a movie jump-cut, and everything was as before.

"You know, I’ll bet that’s it," Todd remarked.

"You’re probably right." Peters unfolded himself and walked over to the window. "Don’t look any different. Hang on, somethin’s movin’."

Howard joined him. "Probably a planet. I don’t think we’ll see the stars move, you’d have to go pretty damn fast for that."

"You’re probably right," Peters drawled. The bright point drifted slowly by and disappeared aft, and nothing else happened.

Howard stood up, a little embarrassed. "See you later," he said, not meeting their eyes, and disappeared into the head. Todd sat up, rubbed his forehead, and exchanged glances with Peters, who just shook his head and looked back out the window. The stars looked pretty much as they had for the last month and a half.

"Not too spectacular," Peters mused.

"I’m a little disappointed," Todd remarked, joining him at the window.

Peters eyed him sidelong. "Not too much, I hope," he drawled.

Todd grinned. "Well, no, now that you mention it."

"Wonder how long this lasts?" Todd asked.

Peters didn’t know, and wondered about that. There hadn’t been any mention of duration on the order sheet. Maybe the Grallt themselves didn’t know. That would be of a piece with the rest of it. Without computers or sophisticated communications–a
runner
to let them know a starship was leaving, for God’s sake–likely they were flying on lookouts and dead reckoning, like Columbus or Eric the Red.

The Grallt–at least, the trader-Grallt they saw in the messroom–acted like nothing had happened, was happening, or would ever happen. Flight operations weren’t possible. The bay doors were closed, and Kitheridge reported that they were secured, with oversize versions of the claws that kept the hatches open. Maintenance people tinkered desultorily; the planes were remarkably simple without the engines, and there wasn’t much wrong. Painting resumed, all the enlisted participating without grumbles just for something to fill the idle hours. Even Chief Joshua joined in, and turned out to be a dab hand at it, which was to be expected, of course. He was especially good at getting the edge of the green stripe perfectly straight and even.