Stepping Up

by Robert Culp

  “I’m a bit curious myself, but we’ll leave that for later.” I call Friday. “My boots are in my stateroom. Have someone bring them to the bridge. MacTaggert out.”

  The Energy Dampening Screen or EDS is another nifty bit of engineering and physics manipulation. It’s essentially a cloud of particles meant to redirect or spoof any directed energy. The immediate payoff is that targeting lasers are ineffective. As are most variants of missile targeting methods, RADAR, LIDAR, etc. So in theory it should be impossible for me to be teleporting on and off the ship. But to be honest, I don’t know why a perCom signal will penetrate an EDS but a beam of light won’t. The orbit of the planet is littered with hundreds of floating troops armed with the remnants of an assortment of high energy weapons. But thousands more continue threatening us.

  Athena reports: “We have the girl and are RTB. Cover us.”

  I yell to the Navigator, “If you haven’t done so already, plot a course to get us out of here. How long until we can trigger the Transit drives?”

  Rangee is talking to the Weapons officer: “Provide that launch all the cover it needs.”

  “Course is plotted, helm has it,” the navigator answers. “Leaving orbit at max gee we can Transit in twenty minutes.”

  “Engineering, Captain. Prep for immediate Transit. At my command, I need all she’ll do.”

  “Roger that, Boss. I mean Captain,” Ginny answers.

  The launch streaks for Night Searcher. Hundreds of energy bolts fly between the cyborg factory and Night Searcher, but none strike the launch. As soon as the launch berths on Night Searcher, and the last red light on the status board I’m watching turns green, I clap the helmsman on the shoulder. “Go!”

  Night Searcher leaps from the planet’s gravity well. This pig is definitely redlined.

  “Engineering, Bridge. Report.”

  “We are doing 3.2G and climbing. We can probably keep this up for another five minutes before the engines start shaking themselves apart.” I watch the chronometer. At the four-minute mark, still deep inside the gravity well, I give the order: “Engage Transit Drive.”

  Aria glances at the boards and speaks to the Com grille, “Chief Engineer, do you concur?”

  “I trust the Captain,” Ginny answers. “I concur.”

  “XO, do you concur?”

  Rangee is sweating. “Con-concur.”

  Aria’s fingers dance across her holoCom terminal satisfying the software requirement.. Night Searcher leaps ahead. Our proximity to the planet will play havoc with our navigational data. But our safest course of action will be to re-evaluate our position when we fall from Transit. Taylor walks onto the bridge, my boots in his hand. I sit and put them on, handing him the overly large ones.

  “Dispose of these, I don’t care how. If they’ll fit you, you may have them.” I look at the Weapons display. “Master Arm to ‘Safe,’ Chief.” She makes the appropriate changes.

  We are in Transit. The two-hundred-ton ships are quickly left behind, as well as the planet and the floating troops. “Aria, Malcolm, I’m going to the small craft bay.”

  “Roger.” Rangee wipes sweat from his brow.

  “Captain is off the bridge,” Aria says. “XO has the conn.”

  Athena is walking off the launch carrying Gwen in her arms. “She is in some sort of trance. Everyone keep your hands off of her. Captain, respectfully, I am taking her to Medical.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  On the way, I ask her, “Losses?”

  “Seven, ma’am. We would have lost more if not for the armor you designed. I sustained several bullet wounds, but they are superficial. The Troopers should all receive a hearty ‘thank you’ from their captain. They performed very well, and were all willing to give their lives for hers or yours.”

  “And so they shall.” I dial up the Troop Commander. “Chief Sergeant, Captain MacTaggert. Every person who was on that mission is now on forty-eight hours down time effective immediately with the following exception: I want to see them all in the Commons no later than 1400 tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It will be a command function, but not a command inspection.”

  “Roger, ma’am. They’ll be there. We’d like to do the memorial at 1300.”

  “I’ll be there, MacTaggert out.” My next call is to the galley. “Have plenty of snacks and ethanol-enhanced beverages delivered to the Commons by 1350 tomorrow, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they answer. I put my perCom back in my pocket.

  “Athena, your injuries: Do you heal or do they need to be repaired? Med bay or Engineering?”

  “I have already patched them. I am as good as new.”

  On the way, I feel the vibration of the Transit Engines. But they are doing so at a much higher than normal frequency. I call Ginny on my perCom, “Gin … Chief Berry, what are you doing to my ship?”

  “I’ll be damned if I know how, Boss, but my best guess is we are doing Transit 9, but none of our gauges register that high.”

  “Roger. Keep an eye on everything, let’s not look gift horses in the mouth, but pull the plug if we start to lose structural integrity or the engines can’t handle the power.”

  I end that conversation and call the Bridge. “This is the Captain. Recalculate current course at Transit 9, I say again 9.”

  Rangee answers: “Captain, Bridge. Aye.” I can hear the disbelief in his voice, but he can argue later. If we come out of Transit on the wrong side of the universe because we overshoot Ramaris, the gods alone know when we’ll get home.

  In the med bay I ask, “Doc, can you tell me anything?”

  Without thinking, I wrap my hand around the amulet, “Gwen? Can you hear me sweetie?”

  I’m moving again.

  I dissipate from Medical and coalesce in the rear of the power plant in the very stern of the ship. Ginny is tightening a conduit junction and sees me in the rough reflection of the bulkhead. She jumps, drops a wrench and hits her head on the conduit above her. She yells, “What the..? Ow! Damnit, Boss, don’t do that!”

  “Sorry about that. Don’t you know this is a hardhat area? I’m pretty sure that’s in the safety manual.”

  Why am I here? Is that a spark? “Ginny, reinforce that junction.”

  Ginny follows my pointing finger. “There you are! Thanks, Cap. That leak showed on the board; I’ve been looking for it.”

  I think I am beginning to understand how the amulet works. I think it takes me to where I most need to be. But I can’t be bouncing all over the ship, or off of the ship. So I take it off and put it in my cargo pocket. Does it know when I don’t want it to work? My perCom trills. “Captain, Bridge. Are you on the ship?”

  “Yes, I’m in Engineering, an unintended teleport. I’m going back to medical.” I jog on the long trip. I arrive slightly winded. “Doc, what can you tell me about Gwendolyn?”

  “Oh, you’re back. She’s in some sort of coma, so it’s hard to say anything with certainty. I’ll keep her for observation. Physically, she will recover; she has several electrical burns, like maybe a hand held shocking unit or a soldering iron? Some bruises. Her arm bones have been insulted, but not fractured. Torsion injuries…they stopped just short of breaking. Those will heal. I am in a medical ‘gray area’ where she’s concerned, as I am sure you know.”

  “Okay, keep me posted. I’m heading to the bridge; can you give me anything stronger than coffee?”

  “For you? Not with a clear conscience, ma’am. You have ridden a physical and emotional roller coaster for 12 hours at least. I understand you also got wounded on the enemy ship. I should but won’t insist on examining you. If you push the stimulant issue, I’ll have to…”

  I know when I’m beat so I wave her off. “Withdrawn, Doctor, coffee will have to do.” I point to a coffee service on her desk, she nods and pours me a large one, adding a shot of hazelnut flavoring. I snap a traveling lid on it and stride to the bridge with a purpose.

  “Captain is on the
Bridge,” I hear as I step onto the Bridge.

  “Report.”

  “Captain,” Rangee begins, “Night Searcher is in Transit at an estimated velocity of Transit 9. The Navigator projects that we will be at our next stop in 72 hours rather than 72 days. This is convenient as Engineering claims that is all the abuse the Transit drive system can survive.”

  “Roger. Navigator, we may have to do some ‘dead reckoning’ the old fashioned way. I’m not trying to tell you your job, but you should be able to determine how long we stay at this velocity to get back to Ramaris sector.”

  He looks at me, he’s nervous. I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to be encouraging. He speaks slowly: “I guess that could work, but we’ll see. I have never experienced space travel at a speed faster than Transit 5. This is mind boggling.”

  “It’s your field of expertise. The first wormhole sent us an incredible distance from home. If we drop out of Transit just as far on the other side, our situation has not improved markedly. Use your best guess.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very well.” I sit in my chair. The logs are all being populated, after action and repair reports are trickling in. Night Searcher is settling into a groove. I look at my coffee cup, then around the bridge. My tongue feels furry. I have trouble focusing my vision on anything. If Doc Traynor slipped something in my coffee… “Aria, I’m spent. I’m going to my cabin. COM me if anything unusual—anything else unusual—pops up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she says. “Captain is off the bridge.”

  Clarisse has laid a snack out for me, but first I’m taking a shower. I take my time. The water washes the dirt and sweat away, but not the pain or the loss. When I get out, I start to dial Sherri up on my perCom. Then realize I can’t.

  I’m tired, too tired to do anything more than towel my hair. I don’t even put on any night clothes, I just fall back onto my bed with one towel lying across me and another wrapped around my hair.

  I hear the door open and close. That’s strange, Friday should have alerted me. Sherri is standing in the doorway. I prop myself up on my elbows to look at her. She orders me to lie down and relax. We both giggle at her order. She drops her flight suit to reveal barely existent black lingerie that enhances her curves.

  She’s a beauty…wait a minute! “But…you can’t be…I saw…”

  Sherri puts her finger across my lips, “Shh, you think too much, baby.”

  She reclines beside me on the bed. I roll onto one side to look at her. She pushes me onto my back. Her lips find mine. She’s…sweet. One hand finds my stomach,.her other finds the light switch.

  My alarm goes off at 0600. I’m alone. There’s no evidence that anybody aside from me was ever in the room. I’m also still tired. I go to the ’fresher and back to bed.

  My alarm chimes again at 1230. I dress and go to the Commons. The enormity of the individuals in the room makes it seem small. Even the females are big. Not manly, but definitely big.

  There are seven pairs of boots in line on the platform. Each pair has a tripod stabilized accelerator rifle muzzle down between each boot. Each rifle has a helmet on it. There are many people present. There is roll call is given and then the Chief Sergeant delivers a eulogy for the fallen Troopers. I’m not the only person crying. He’s timed it well.

  “Third platoon, the ceremony is concluded. Next formation, ten minutes. Fall out.” Most go to the ’freshers. I don’t know about all of them, but I go to wash my face and blow my nose, then I go back out to the Commons in time to see the carts from the kitchen being unloaded. I grab a half liter bottle of beer and stick it in my cargo pocket.

  Precisely at 1400:00, I hear “Third Platoon! Fall in!” The order thunders across the room. Chief Sergeant Rufus F. Call is at the head of the formation. I walk up behind him. He turns to face me. “Troopers are assembled per your instruction, ma’am. May I ask the nature of this formation?”

  “Thank you, Chief Sergeant. Stick around, you’ll find out.” He nods and steps around me, taking a position to my rear. I wasn’t graced with a “command voice” so I switch my perCom to Public Address and speak to Third Platoon. “At ease. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to give you a very personal, very sincere ‘thank you,’ not only for myself but also for my daughter, Gwendolyn. It is my distinct honor and personal privilege to be your Captain. I will strive always to be worthy of that singular honor. If you haven’t been told, you are in the middle of a two-day down period. I apologize for interrupting it, but it was the best way I could think of to get this done quickly, efficiently and in at least a quasi-military manner. And it’s the sort of thing that can’t wait. I want you to relax. Get some rest. You’ve earned it. Unfortunately, there is a down side. Now, now, stop groaning like that. I’m sure you’ve seen the several bottles of various fermented or distilled beverages scattered around. The bad news is that we don’t have any way to store it. As you will note all the caps have been broken or lost. And it would be truly criminal to pour it into the converters as is without filtering it through livers and kidneys first. So, if you will all raise your glasses, I propose a toast.” I pause while they secure then raise their own glasses. I flip the cap off my bottle. “To the Troopers of Night Searcher, the toughest, baddest, meanest, maddest motherfuckers in this or any other galaxy!” Their roars shake the panels of the ceiling and walls.

  “Yeah!”

  “Fuckin’ A!”

  “You’re the best, Cap’n. Anybody who says otherwise is a stupid ass and always was!”

  Not knowing any better, I yell, “Fall out!” As the formation disintegrates, I move around the room, “pressing the flesh” as they used to say. On top of my beer, I toss back two shots, a whiskey and … oh, I hate gin, but there was no way to refuse. I leave them to the party after personally shaking hands with everyone there. Chief Sergeant Call is waiting for me at the door.

  “Thanks, ma’am. I mean that,” he says.

  “Chief Sarge, it is literally the very least I can do.” He cuts his eyes towards me. “That didn’t come out right. I mean I will never be able to pay them the debt that I feel I owe. So we go through a six-month supply of hooch in one evening. Big deal. You and I both know there are stills on this ship.”

  He looks at the deck, sheepishly. “Ma’am, you’re not supposed to know about those.”

  “Sarge, it’s my job to know about those. That’s why I get the big bucks. By the way, who’s making the corn liquor? My bottle is a little light.”

  “Tell your aide to be absent from her desk between 2000 and 2400. And leave the door unlocked. The situation will be remedied and the door won’t be left unsecured.” He rocks back and forth on his heels for a few seconds. I turn to leave when he whispers conspiratorially in my direction. “Y’know Cap, for someone who has to squat to pee, you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

  “Stow that ‘squatter’ crap, doughnut poker,” I whisper back, “Unless you can hold your breath on the other side of the airlock for the rest of the way home.”

  We laugh through a quick hug.

  21 HOMES

  At the end of the projected seventy-two hours, Night Searcher comes out of Transit and slows to 2G. There is a planet on scanners. We will attain orbit in roughly two hours.

  “Captain to the bridge.” Figures.

  “Captain to Med Bay.” There’s only one reason she would call me.

  “Bridge, Captain. I’ll be there directly; cut our speed and buy me some time.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Aria says. “There is no issue with speed now. The helm is back in control of the ship. The chronometers say we went approximately 800 light years. We are slowing to 0.8G.”

  “We’re probably due a few major services then. Keep me posted, Captain out.” Irony, sarcasm and humor; it’s so difficult with androids. Eight hundred light years. Seventy eight trillion miles. That’s twelve zeroes. Wow!

  “Med bay, Captain. On my way.”

  Moments later in the medical bay I as
k, “Got some good news for me?”

  Doc looks up from her desk, “See for yourself.”

  Gwen comes running out of the playroom. “Hi, Mommy!!! I am home at last!!! Will you stay here with me?”

  “Gwen!” I pick her up in a twirling bear hug. “Oh, I’ve missed ye so, lass!”

  I turn to Dr. Traynor. “A clean bill of health, I hope?” I ask.

  “As clean a bill as I can give her. I must admit her mind is so advanced, I can only presume things about it. She is a little fatigued, but other than that she is very healthy. Of course, I can’t take credit for anything. She was comatose until five minutes before I called you. That was when her eyes snapped open and she asked for, and I quote ‘a cookie and a glass of milk.’”

  “That’s good enough for me.”

  I look at Gwen again. “I may never let you leave home again! I’m so happy to see you! We’ve a new planet to explore. Let’s go look at it.” For the moment I won’t let her out of my sight. We go to the Bridge.

  “Captain on the bridge.”

  “Report,” I order.

  Aria says, “Scanners are picking up a class M planet. Sixty percent water, standard atmosphere, no cities larger than a thousand people. No ships in orbit, population estimated at 423,000. Archaeological databases cite rumors that there are advanced races of psionic beings here, but no documentation supports that.”

  “Best guess on where we are?” I ask no one in particular.

  The navigator responds, “It’s a guess all right, but I would say we are in a region the old stellar cartographers and astronomers called the Coal Sack.” He pulls up a map of the semi-known universe. “Earth is here,” he points, “and I think we are here.” He is pointing to a sector as far “south” as the map goes.

  “I’ll take a good guess over a wrong conclusion. Is there any way you can confirm our location and which direction we need to travel to get back to Ramaris?”

  “Working on it, ma’am.”

  “Engineering, Captain. Make plans for a major service on the Transit drives. Instruments say we just pushed them through 246 parsecs. But I don’t want them to go off-line until I know we can stay put for a while.”