The Bright Black Sea (43 page)

'Why, hello, Min. You're looking much better,' I
said, just to put a bold face over my petty annoyance. It's her
ship, I suppose, but turning up in my office to scowl at me every
time I stepped out would get old.

'I'm feeling much better. I can deal with you now,'
she replied fixing me with a cold glare.

'Of course. Best to put this behind us,' I said with
what I hoped came off as studied carelessness, adding, 'Now that
we're shipmates,' just to vent my annoyance. It'd been a decade or
more since I was last in this position. Actually, in exactly the
same physical position, though in those days it was Captain Miccall
glaring at me from his desk. There wasn't much to choose from
between the two angry glares.

'I hired you, Litang, in part, because I wanted a
captain that wasn't going to try to boss me about and treat me like
a child. So you can imagine my dismay on discovering that you not
only feel free to disregard my direct orders, but don't mind making
a fool of me aboard my own ship as well. I've heard your excuses. I
appreciate your concern, but I resent the implication that I can't
handle my own affairs.'

'I'm sorry. That wasn't the case. I had information
you didn't have and...'

'Which you could have simply passed on to me.'

'Yes, I suppose...'

'But instead you just decided on your own to do what
you felt like doing.'

I closed my eyes for a moment and answered, 'Yes.'
Keeping this type of conversation short is always the best option.
I'd found that out fifteen years ago.

'Am I that incapable of handling my own affairs?'

'No, not at all. I hold you in the highest regard. I
wouldn't be your captain if I didn't. But in this case I had
information that you didn't and given the complexities of the
situation, undeniable evidence that our enemies were actively
hunting us, a sailing deadline, with Vyn, Ten and your fate all
knotted together, I chose to act decisively. I figured we could
sort things out when everyone was out of immediate danger.'

She considered that for a moment.

'I believe, Litang, that you have formed an erroneous
impression of me. It has led you to gravely misinterpret our
relationship. I employed you to run my ship, not my life. You seem
unable to separate the two. You've made me a laughing stock aboard
my own ship. I can't forgive you for that.'

'A laughing stock? Where did you get that idea
from?'

'A fool, . I can see the amusement in their
glances.'

'Listen Min. They're aware you're in danger from
enemies out of the past, and that I take that threat seriously.
That alone explains why I acted. What amuses them is the idea that
I, for, some reason, think I can shanghai my owner with impunity,
especially knowing that I'm such a cautious fellow,' I replied with
a wary smile.

'And they're wrong.'

'Yes,' Apparently very wrong.

'It's another reason why this isn't going to
work.'

'I don't see why it'd make any difference at all. Now
that we're all onboard, that idea can be put to rest.'

'Oh, it will be. However, in the end, it's not what
they think. Or what you think, but what I think. And I think I made
a mistake.'

I just watched and waited.

'I know enough about a ship's society to realize that
now is not the time to correct that mistake. But you understand,
Captain, that the time to correct my mistake will be upon reaching
Zilantre. Need I spell out what I mean?'

'No. I get the drift. Nothing more need be said.'

'It'll be better for your future if you discover you
can't work for me, rather than the other way around,' she added
grimly.

'Yes, of course.'

'Until we'll operate as we'd originally planned. I'll
do my best to make this easy for both of us. It's a long voyage and
there's no sense in making it an unpleasant one. I'll take the
opportunity to learn the tramp business as a pilot as we had
originally talked about while you carry on as captain. I trust
you'll keep this conversation strictly to yourself. I'm sure we
both want to serve on a happy ship.'

'Yes, of course. I realized this was one of the
possible consequences of my actions, so it's not unexpected. I can
hardly complain. My loyalty is to you and my shipmates, as it
always has been,' I replied with a somewhat forced smile.

Ten years ago I would have turned and stumbled out of
the office. This time the office was still mine, for the moment, so
Min heaved herself to her feet and with a faint nod, stalked
out.

I let out a breath. It could've been worse. The bar
was very low.

The bridge was silent and twilit. With Azminn astern,
the curving bank of viewpanels showed only the subtle glow of the
nebula's gases entwined in the twisting lampblack flows of the dust
and rocky drifts. And because we were inbound, only three stars of
the eight nebula stars shown through the haze – the other five, and
the galaxy beyond were either out of view or hidden behind the
veils of gas and dust.

Molaye was at the helm and Illy as the
lookout/communications station. Behind them, the bank of
specialized control consoles – cargo, environment, communications,
navigation, sensors, weapons, and more – blinked and glowed softly,
unattended. Every control on the bridge is duplicated somewhere
else onboard and all are monitored from the active control console
and the detailed ones behind. Redundancy is a basic safety
precaution.

The engineering station was vacant. The engineers
were standing their watch in the engine room rather than on the
bridge this voyage. For planetary runs with the engines operating
for only two or three days at a time, they were comfortable
monitoring them from the bridge. But with upwards of twenty days of
constant running ahead, the engineers felt the need for more than
just console lights and screens to look after their engines, so
they moved their watch two decks down to the engine room control
center to better see, feel, smell, hear and be one with their
engines, reactors, generators and pumps at work.

Illy glanced up as I entered.

'Ready for a break?' I asked quietly. I'd no
scheduled duties, so either I or my first mate, Vynnia, looked in
during each watch to give the watch a short break if needed.

She nodded.

'Then I have the lookout,' I took formal possession
of the lookout.

Molaye glanced over and smiled as I perched myself on
the tall, vacated chair. She'd been concentrating on her minute
adjustments to the rocket engine balance using the array of nine
control levers on the console before her, searching for just the
right balance – the groove – to get the best, most efficient,
performance out of the ship.

Up til now, I'd been monitoring the ship's status via
my com link, just a light overview that would alert me to anything
amiss, but didn't otherwise demand my attention. Essentially just a
“feeling” that assured me everything was right. Now I synced my com
link to the lookout console so all the radar, radio and ship's
system's data became accessible in great detail directly through
the com link and through the readouts on the console before me. The
lookout position is manned at one time or another by everyone
aboard ship. The system techs are the most knowledgeable people
about the radar and sensor systems, but everyone can keep a general
watch, monitoring the long range radar for hazards down course
while keeping an eye on all the non-engine mechanical and data
systems aboard ship. We were in a well charted and well traveled
space lane and had just began to build velocity, so it was not an
intense job at the moment. Once we reached interstellar velocity,
we'd once more be encased in a shell of ionized gas and dust,
blinding conventional radar and making peering ahead a lot more
demanding. And when we reached Anjur and turned for Zilantre, we'd
be off current charts and coasting through the inner drifts between
the Helgot and Myzar drifts where uncharted meteor streams and
drifts might be expected, so the lookout post would become a much
more demanding duty , even with drones ahead to extend our sensor
reach.

'Still searching for the groove. I see we're up to
mark 5.7 now.'

She grinned. 'Aye, and I'm thinking it could go a bit
higher, with your permission, of course, Captain,' she added, more
of a challenge than anything else.

'You think so, pilot?' I replied, just to play the
game.

'After fifty years at running at mark 3, the old
girl's got'a find her new groove. Those Starliner Express Set
engines are good, solid engines, Captain, and they seem to want to
run now that they don't have to just jog along. I'm beginning to
think that their groove will be more around mark 6.7, maybe even 7
or a hair above.' This, with a sidelong glance.

I believe I'd been warned about this. However, with
one of three pilots also the ship's owner, and the fact that I
actually didn't mind putting the ship through its paces, I wasn't
about to make a big issue about where Molaye, Min or Vynnia “found”
the groove. Still...

'Mark 7 you say...'

'Or a little more...' she added, brightly.

'Or a little more. Oh, well, I suppose we do need to
blow some cobwebs out of the system. But here's your limit, Lucky.
I've no intention of putting up with the engineers whining about
how we're abusing their precious engines, groove or no groove. You,
and your fellow pilots can take this packet up to whatever mark you
care too, just so long as the engineers agree to it. But not one
tick higher. I don't want to hear one peep or bleat from Riv or
Lilm, and so you better make certain they're onboard with every
tick you take it up.'

'Oh, they're onboard, Captain,' Molaye assured me
cheerfully. 'We're getting their blood pumping. They're remembering
they're engineers, not caretakers. Besides, Starliners are built
for running at mark 7. They've been held in check for too
long.'

'So you say, from your long experience as a
pilot.'

She wasn't intimidated. 'From my feel for the
engines, Captain.'

I wasn't going to win this on that basis, so I didn't
even try. 'Right. Well, settle it amongst yourselves, pilots and
engineers together. However, just so you know, I remember that
little chat we had with your folks, and they're suggestion that I
need be very careful about what I agree to when it comes to you. So
I'll just say that I'm going along with upping my mark 5 to mark 7
only because – engineers onboard – the sooner we reach our
velocity, the sooner we can be done with engines and relax a bit,
not because you've talked me around to it.'

'Why Captain, your word is law. I'm a Guild pilot
after all. I wouldn't think of trying to tell you how to run your
ship,' she said, with a straight face.

'I don't believe that for an instant,' I replied
sternly. 'I expect all my crew to give me straight, honest answers.
Please do so in the future.'

'Yes, Captain,' she said meekly, laughing with her
eyes.

'Good,' I said and turned to my displays. If I didn't
have absolute confidence in Molaye, as a pilot and as my protege,
I'd have reasons for being nervous. But I did, and wasn't.

When Illy returned, I chased Molaye off of the helm.
'Take your time, I want to feel what mark 5.7 feels like,' I told
her. I had, in truth, never piloted the ship at more than mark 4 in
my 15 years aboard her.

I switched my com link to the helm console, put my
hands to the levers and took charge of the ship in more than just a
name on the books.

The rockets, as I mentioned, are controlled by a set
of nine levers, one for the main engine and one for each of the
smaller, balancing engines. At this point in the voyage, the pilots
were fine tuning each rocket's output, adjusting as the engines
settled in and searching for just the right balance to keep the
ship on course and running as effortlessly as possible. The levers
themselves can be set for a wide range of sensitivity. At this
stage they were set for fine adjustments, so moving them produced
only a minute change in the engine's output, though, like
everything aboard the ship, this analog control mechanism directs a
far more complex computer driven response. In the old days, before
the robot revolt, this process would have been entirely automatic,
but these days humans are required to be involved and invested in
every significant process, and so we have a human pilot conning the
ship with hand operated controls that 12,000 years ago would have
seem comical. The upside however, is that the vast power of the
rockets is at your fingertips. Molaye had to stand in front of the
console glaring at me to get me to give up the helm. Between the
com link and my hands on the control, it was, well, what you become
a rocket ship pilot for.

After giving up the helm, I drifted down to the noise
and heat of the engine room where Riv was standing watch.

He nodded as I crossed the catwalk to the control
station on top of the main reactor and engine.

I stepped close, and more or less yelled to be heard
over the deep roar of the engine and the various whines of the
pumps and generators. 'A word with you, Chief.'

He slipped out one of his ear protectors. 'What's up,
Skipper?'

'I'm here to make sure we're all on the same chart,
Chief, and warn you that our pilots – Molaye anyway – plans to push
your engines to mark 7. As far as I'm concerned, anywhere between
mark 5 and 7 is fine with me. But what is not fine with me is
hearing you complaining about your poor engines being abused and
pushed beyond their safe capacity by our pilots. I don't want to
hear any carping and whining at all. I've told Lucky up there that
your word is law when it comes to pushing the engines. When you say
“Enough”, it's enough. And that's how we'll run it.'