by Sharon Lee
Kiland looked to the sub-captain.
“Three channels, in the clear, Captain. The time signals are there, but no space weather roundups. The orbital elements are automatic, but the star observation reports ought to be continuous.”
“Record what’s there, get us synced, ask for what’s missing. Send captain’s regards to the RosaRing’s Trikandle Expedition. Tell them we’re bringing treasures from home. Once comm schedules are established, send and request the archives. In the meanwhile, let us compare projected courses, shall we? We have work to do.”
Averil 05, 407 CSY
From Principal Investigator via RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Captain’s Eyes Only
Point A: My joy and strength, the investigation has moved rapidly beyond experiment and is well into proof. The rover pair are the perfect delivery system—I utilize testing systems on board to recreate the binary delivery methods outlined in the records we inherited. These are superior organisms, they continue to multiply not only in the track of the vehicles, as I’d intended, but well beyond. I expect great things, and find myself limited by materials and conditions on station. I expect you may solve many of my minor problems.
Point B: I remain your devoted slave at all times.
PI Verita
Averil 07, 407 CSY
From Captain, Implacable, to RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Principal Investigator Only
My Beauty Beyond All, you astound me with your progress, which is prodigious and worthy. You exceed our original goals for so early a date. My progress is less pleasing, our dreams delayed by both orbital mechanics and politics.
Admiral Smit’s retirement was received with much division. His ascension to council head was contested and defeated; he demurred taking vice chair. My position is at risk; the opposition demanded the immediate dismantling of Implacable as a threat to border peace. This failed, but our military mission has been de-emphasized, and my term on the Fleet Council, which is statutory as Implacable’s commander, may end after this voyage.
My crew is far less than full strength. Many retirements and cost-balancings have gone into effect. Review the appended, please. Many experienced officers and crew were replaced by fresh graduates, as if I head a training squad!
Implacable’s whole mission is a bargaining point between the parties, as a support ship for the RosaRing. We shall move forward. Your success is paramount to our success.
I am, as always, willing to command such an eager supplicant. Remember that in restriction is liberation.
Captain Kiland
• • • • • •
They had in the course of their bed-talk discussed much that was secret and that stood her in good stead now. The charts, spreadsheets, and projections revealed Kiland as an optimist. Ship’s provisioning had suffered. Even a five-year mission was perilous. Weaponry updates were off the budget, savings were achieved by replacing seasoned staff with new graduates, positions left empty, and militia called up for training. Ship’s company included too few experienced pilots, and too many untested crew.
Alone in her suite, Verita suffered for Kiland. His setback made her success ever more important. Re-energized by his necessity, she applied herself more fully to duties at hand.
Averil 14, 407 CSY
From Principal Investigator via RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Captain’s Eyes Only
My Strength and Direction, one is desolate to be less than perfect in all things for you. I must request technical aid as well as spiritual solving. So often your lessons bring me clarity.
In the face of Station Admin’s orders to conserve fuel can Implacable offer assistance until the fuel and drones you carry are delivered? Might a more militant drone-recovery protocol be employed? Can you read signals and plot better courses? Assure me—assure the station!—with your guidance.
I suggest and cannot demand; my Strength reflects yours at all times.
Your latest lesson assists my considerations and will be recalled as often as possible until we are joined again in the harmony of a Perfected Evening.
PI Verita
• • • • • •
Kiland’s tactical officers enjoyed the challenge of the long-distance scan and solve; they caught the orders as a frolic, as if they were back at school. He had them look for ways to improve the drone’s routes, to search for threats in the system, and all threats to the RosaRing. They daily requested more information from the ring. They worked with energy, concentration, amusement.
He was less amused than concerned. The ship’s skills depended far more on the practicing of things his staff recalled only from school than they ought.
As captain he deserved a crew capable of supporting his—and the ship’s—necessities. Therefore he would push the boundaries of these youngsters. They would become the crew Implacable deserved. Each order would be carried out with dedication and devotion. Each solution would be born of submission to the necessity of mission. They would learn. The sub-captain in particular needed growth if he were to serve as a proper second.
Averil 17, 407 CSY
From Captain, Implacable, to RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Principal Investigator Only
Sweet Touch of A Giving Noon, the crew relishes drone tracking. We thank you for the opportunity. The more experienced appear reticent to enjoy our adoption of a Joint Mission. The brightest see that dedication to Mission is all they want.
Your administrator professes surprise at Implacable’s ability to compute simple math and solve minor problems in interception. Yes, we can access the telemetry channels of your drones; we pick up signals from your rovers as well. Confederation leaders at many levels lack understanding of what this ship is and what it can do, as they lack an understanding of the RosaRing’s potential. We will show them all; we will demonstrate that, together, we can transform planets.
Your administrator embraces details? Perhaps you may offer her more to deal with, so that she may be fully involved in details. She need not be overly concerned with flight planning now that the RosaRing is again in Implacable’s shadow.
The tender’s co-pilot is a former naval officer; he ought have none of the finicky training the head pilot admires. I append a flight plan for the tender—discussed at mess among the more forward of my sub-officers—which may permit the tender to better retrieve your drones as well as utilize the gravity well to regain lost energy.
I have engaged the co-pilot in a radio correspondence; we discuss a campaign long past in which a ship not unlike the tender was able to overperform simple guidelines designed for ordinary pilots. I, of course, have no orders to give about what must be pilot’s choice, nor you; we may simply discuss, suggest, and request.
I remain devoted to the Delicate Delights and such arts you perfect through me, I admonish you to please yourself and please me in all you do.
Captain Kiland
Averil 18, 407 CSY
The pilot’s message was not quoted in full; it was apparent that Kiland’s suggestions had been acted upon. Alas, the pilot and co-pilot were barely on speaking terms. She? She was unnerved by information that there were now stains on the skin of the tender, where it had driven deeper into the atmosphere than ever before, bringing with it all of the drones. It was a daring mission, no doubt. The pilot had been on sleep shift when the dive sequence began and went to the administrator straight away after they’d returned to the RosaRing. The tender pilot . . .
The tender pilot was not a biologist.
The tender pilot was not a chemist.
The pilot was a pilot. Stains on her ship offended her; and she found them a clear sign that pilot and co-pilot needed a break, each from the other.
There were also stains on the drones, which the pilot cared about not one whit. That was someone else’s job. Drones were tended by their own staff, their samples double-checked in the lab.
Verita grimaced. She’d been enjoying a crew amused by the understanding that the Implacable’s captain and their own prime investigator were a link-couple
. Now she needed to become again the firm scientist and see the entirety of the crew reminded of the necessity for proper isolation technique and contamination control sequences.
Cha-bling, went the annunciator. The administrator’s direct line shattered the usual screen image, followed by an image of the administrator herself, chewing her lips, staring at the screen still blank on her end.
Verita composed herself with a deep breath and a straightening of her lab coat; she moved three empty stim cups from screen range. Another centering breath and she was ready to be distantly polite. . . .
“Your comm fails to display, Verita. If you are present, reply so I don’t have to send a messenger. This is rather important!”
She composed her expression to what she hoped was a look of general, unalarmed interest, then finished her reach to activate the visual display on her end.
“Important, Administrator?”
“Yes, important! There’s an outer-belt asteroid on a collision course with Trikandle. The captain has sent me a secure message! A strike on the planet is within the margin of error, he tells me.”
Verita felt her pleasant expression vanish—
“Our mission!”
The administrator offered a grim little smile, apparently pleased with this reaction.
“Yes, our mission, indeed, yes. Also, our station. I gather this ‘pass’ as he calls it is not immediate but needs be dealt with. There is some factor of resonances and such still being determined. I am not informing the crew, wishing not to spread alarm.”
The administrator pursed her lips, her visage taking on the near rictus she assumed when issuing commands not to be denied.
“You shall not tell the crew, do you understand? I will direct the captain to inform you of the technical details, and I shall decide what needs be done. I have promised a reply within two shifts, so hold yourself ready for consultation.”
With that the screen went back to ordinary.
• • • • • •
The crew took direction well; they’d even taken to the maintenance-plus-pursuit staffing. Given that they were technically shorthanded, with entire Fleet Operations sections of dozens reduced to shifts of pairs, this was a fine way to return the ship to the spit-and-polish days of Smit.
The sub-captain in particular seemed to relish his extra duties. While he’d commanded a small vessel in recent peacetime, his service had not been properly recognized. Passed over several times for political reasons, he, like Kiland, was a volunteer to the Implacable. A man with ambition made a good ally.
The sub-captain’s shifts responded for him as well as they did for the captain, and he had enough camaraderie with crew to have a mathematician come forward with the threat the asteroid posed several orbits out—which was to say, eleven hundred and seventy-two Standard Years, away. They would chase that asteroid down now. It was the duty of a captain to remove known space hazards.
Reward? The crew would see and taste their own power. For the moment they worked harder and fell into the proper crew-spirit.
Averil 22, 407 CSY
From Principal Investigator via RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Captain’s Eyes Only
My full heart, my hot blood, surely you have outdone yourself! The destruction of that menace delights. It was good that the event could be shared, though some, like the administrator, were shaken by it. In fact, the administrator, speaking confidentially, considers she might order passage on Implacable rather than attempt another three years. She asks that I hold updates on my work for the moment.
I have agreed that I could share burden of a Joint Command with her second, and on the other side I have spoken with the Second, who is willing to have promotion sooner. She has been consulting with the physicians to that end.
Admin’s oversight of operations has been recently uneven; meals have been late due to minor problems with the energy systems, the air circulators are changed to manual on some shifts as they are affected by a glitch in the attitude controls as we maintain our synchronous orbit above the prime research zone. It is vexing, but to be expected with the staff waiting for decisions easily made. It will be solved soon, I am certain.
On the practical side, the chief tender pilot placed herself on sick leave. The tender’s new pilot has been dropping off-the-record radiosondes along with the regular drones. These drop parallel to the rovers; they are wonderfully useful. I see exponential expansion to the limits of the habitat boundaries. We should see blossoming that will change Trikandle sooner rather than later.
My work consumes me nearly as much as my desire to offer myself up to you.
PI Verita
• • • • • •
The captain was pleased. The crew was brazen in their newfound self-esteem. They’d done something violent and powerful, they’d destroyed—down to gas, plasma, gravel, and powder—a worldlet. The ship might have landed there, the crew might have walked suited in the ravines, collected water from the ice packs. It had been a place, and by their action it was gone. They were ready, eager, proven. They searched for more threats, they honed their skills at drills to battle station.
The captain let them strut for themselves; he was willing to admire them, their newfound ambition. They were no longer in awe of the ship—now they were in awe of themselves! Someone had even slipped him a recording of a new song sung on the ship. Made by the same mischievous mathematician who discovered it, the song celebrated Implacable and her captain and described the obliteration of the asteroid. The old Fleet might be gone but the urge of youth to bathe in the glory of power had not died!
Averil 24, 407 CSY
From Captain, Implacable, to RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Principal Investigator Only
My Second Heart, I do so desire to share your tremble. Your work engages my crew; we study Trikandle with our sensors and shall share our findings with you. Particularly involved are crew in meteorology and mathematics. I am informed that some regions we’d imaged last trip have changed drastically in these three years. There are streaks of new color evident on the continent you concentrate upon. Also dots of that new color are seen where the rivers flow, around shore lines, ridges, elsewhere. Are the currents and winds so strong? Do the tender flights and the drones work so hard? I shall return to the High Command with evidence of your success.
As always, thoughts of your touch and tone beguile me to sleep; I seek your ministrations.
Captain Kiland
Averil 26, 407 CSY
From Principal Investigator via RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Captain’s Eyes Only
My Partner in Sense and Sensation, I quiver at your approach. The administrator may now opt for very early transfer to Implacable, as she is finding sleep and concentration difficult. Several of the lab crew are reporting such issues as well—I ascribe it to general excitement over the approach of your ship.
The changes you report outside the river valleys we’ve studied amaze. I am not so much sleepless as vibrating with energy and anticipation. I hope the cargo shifts will allow the new drones among the first items available; the old ones have become unreliable. We lost one to weather, an upper current overwhelmed it. A second drone found it crash-landed outside of our prime valley with a large burden of unexpended biotic canisters.
Do tell me you have new challenges and rewards for me, I seek to please you soonest.
PI Verita
Averil 27, 407 CSY
From Captain, Implacable, to RosaRing Secure COMM 7 for Principal Investigator Only
Your burden is mine; you will find my requirements a pleasure.
I have requests from your station administrator asking of arrangements for a ceremony of arrival; I hesitate to authorize an on-docking event out of hand. She mentions the possibility of a transfer; paradoxically she requests it and can order it and seems overmatched by her position, indeed. My staff must prompt hers for ordinary transmissions and data sharing, she runs an unprofessional operation, I am afraid.
Can it be that there is a w
eather wave spreading your new biotics? Is it a chemical reaction catalyzed by the increase in oxygen? Our observers report a surge of color changes on planet; the spectra show unusual mixtures, the temperature sensors show wild variations. Have you science you can share on this?
Supplies will be offloaded by pod and bin, we have become a cargo vessel and are not suited to it! The sub-captain reports basic supplies in the first rounds, and then laboratory items, by necessity of the pod mounts. The pattern is preset.
Do not doubt that I will be firm with you, very soon. I long to hear you whispering.
Captain Kiland
Averil 29, 407 CSY
Glaring at the screen in front of her, Verita rotated the troth ring on her third finger without looking at it. The weight and the repetition were comforting. As much as she twisted it, she couldn’t change the fact that docking with Implacable was just sixteen hours away, and things were getting worse instead of better.
This latest news from the lab sections was not good. Four of seven biology technicians in the drone research area were on sick call and both of the service mechanics.
She clicked off the message; the staff knew their work. She’d get to them later with a pep talk about yesterday’s results. Now, she needed to concentrate . . .
This was not how she’d intended to display a well-controlled station! The mechanics complained of different maladies—one of skin rashes leaving behind a kind of scar, the other of dizziness with headache. All complained of strange odors and odd tastes; she’d not visited the hangar for days to avoid the sneezes that had become common there. Her own tests . . . well, she was not a medical doctor. It just seemed wise to be cautious and remain in her offices and suite.
It was unfortunate that replacement drones could not be brought to bear sooner. He should have known that chasing the asteroid would add delay . . . but no, nothing about this was his fault. Nothing.
