Drawing Battle Lines

by Robert Culp

  I must confess, the thoughts of selling her or not taking her with us has never occurred to me. I keep forgetting that she’s an android in general and property of the Academy in particular. “Of course you may. I will not sell you, sweetie; not now, not ever. You’re practically family. You will stay with me until you want to leave or I die. Whichever comes first.”

  There’s not a lot to do until the ship gets here, so I use the time to get caught up on missed sleep. I know the studies all say that it’s not possible to recover missed sleep, but I know that I feel better when I’m well rested.

  CHAPTER TWO

  At the end of the third week, I contact Ms. Barron’s office. I feel humbled by the news that all crewmembers of Cutlass signed on to follow me to Prophecy with a very few exceptions. Athena takes it in stride, “It shouldn’t surprise you, Captain. You inspire trust and confidence in those who follow you.”

  Shawna rolls her eyes at Athena then looks at me and is much more candid and effusive, “Well, duh! It’s because you’re freakin’ awesome!” when I share the news with them. Prophecy has had a relatively minor schedule conflict, a brief diversion to the shipyards on Goliath for Marsha’s aquarium. So they will be in Neptune in three weeks rather than right away. Ms. Barron points out that the crew has signed for the journey but they will be on a leave status provided they stay out of trouble. She even reminds me of the clause that was in all of the contracts. Arrest for criminal violation stops the flow of money. A conviction is a breach of the contract and terminates it. The company further retains the right to sue for any monies paid from the date of signing to the time of arrest. I’m not a lawyer, so I don’t know if that will fly in court, but I know I will not risk it and I doubt any of my crew will either.

  I share this information with Athena. She disseminates it to the crew along with instructions for all to make their way back to Neptune if they leave. How and when they actually arrange that trip is up to them, but she does give them a “No Later Than” date and time.

  At the end of the sixth week I get a message from Captain Sterling.

  Captain MacTaggert,

  Prophecy has just arrived and as I’m sure you can imagine I have much to do. Unless you disapprove, a shuttle will pick you up at bay 31 at 0900. We can spend the morning walking the ship and the rest of the day transferring command. I look forward to meeting you. I’m sure you will bring with you any staff you wish.

  Presuming your assent, I will see you the morning,

  Maxine Sterling,

  Prophecy

  Commander

  I send a quick reply, copying Athena, Shawna, my chief engineer Ross Jenkins, and my primary starship pilot, Will Baumgartner:

  Captain Sterling, my party and I will be at bay 31 prior to 0900.

  Sonia MacTaggert

  If those lunkheads have as much on the ball as I believe they do, they are bright enough to figure out to be there and then. If not, any problems with staffing will resolve themselves. Probably in an expedited fashion.

  And they don’t disappoint. Athena comes to my room at the Aged Mariner to pick me up. The inn was more than willing to extend our accommodations when I mentioned the Academy of Ancients is picking up the tab. When we get to bay 31 the others are already there. At 0850 a shuttle touches down on the deck plates. Within minutes a young woman opens the door and steps out of the craft. “Mornin’ ladies, gentlemen, are y’all the folks headin' over to Prophecy?”

  “We are,” I answer. “I’m Sonia MacTaggert.”

  She nods and gestures into the passenger compartment. “It’s a privilege to meet you, ma’am. They call me Spooky. As soon as y’all are aboard we’ll head for the ship.” Her smile is so wide it makes my face hurt.

  She’s adorable; I can’t help returning her smile. As do Ross and Will. Shawna stifles a laugh and leans in to whisper to me, “‘Y’all’? Did the turnip transport drop her off this morning?” as we take our seats in the vehicle. If our pilot—there’s no one else in the shuttle—heard her she doesn’t let on.

  “Does anyone make fun of your Lemurian accent?” I ask Shawna in a quiet voice. “You be nice or I’ll give her permission to bless your heart.”

  “And what, pray tell, does that mean?”

  “Now that would be tellin’…sugah.” I do my best to copy Spooky’s accent. I can hear the engines spooling up while the pilot arranges our departure. I can hear her speaking, but not the actual words other than her call sign really is Spooky. Once we get free of the starport she raises her voice to be heard over the engines, “Is it ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs.’ MacTaggert, ma’am?”

  “It’s Captain,” Shawna says with authority. She’s practicing her “command” voice. I give her a half-smile. I have an idea of what’s coming.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am,” our pilot turns to face her after relinquishing control to the autopilot. “But it isn’t until she officially relieves Captain Sterling that she receives that title. Prophecy isn’t a military ship and neither are the people who serve on her. Therefore, the naval rank structure and the titles stay with the ship, not the people. As you—Miss Landers, if I’m not mistaken—will be Commander Landers once you are in that position. But until then, you’re Miss Landers. Or Shawna, with your permission of course.” She smiles sweetly and turns back to tend her flight controls.

  Shawna stares at her open-mouthed. That is the sweetest, gentlest rendition of “Shut the hell up, you stupid tart,” that a person could hope for. She mutters, “I knew that,” and says nothing else for the duration of the flight. Looking beyond the pilot, I can just make out the silhouette of a very large ship in front of us. Interplanetary craft are big anyway and starships are bigger still. The vessel we’re approaching is big even by those standards. I’m not sure if she’s larger than Night Searcher, but she’s close if she isn’t. I’ve had time to review the commander’s handbook that Angela Barron forwarded. Prophecy is a Class X Expeditionary Cruiser and is only three years old. And they’re making her sisters in the shipyards of Goliath right now. Many argue that a ship with an expeditionary purpose need not be heavily armed. Most explorers disagree. I know I do and I’m sure Captain Pipper, our commander aboard Star Chaser, would disagree as well. That pirate, Grinning Jack Grangiere, proved the point to me. Thank the Creator I haven’t had another visit from him! But I don’t think I need to be worried about being surprised and sucker-punched from the bridge of this beauty.

  We enter a small craft hangar on the port side of the ship. The decals inside show this is deck C. As we disembark it’s evident that this ship is lacking neither personnel nor equipment. We’re standing around just marveling at the enormity of the small craft hangar when two women approach. There is a minor step up to their level. Which I, in true Sonia MacTaggert fashion, trip over.

  Fortunately, I’m able to break my fall, Thank you, Master Kreq! so I suffer nothing more than two scraped palms. And a bruised ego. Someone says, “Gravity check, nominal.” It’s a woman’s voice, I have no idea which, but if I ever find out…

  “Welcome aboard Prophecy, Captain MacTaggert,” says the elder of the two, extending her right hand to help me up. I take her hand as I come to my feet. I don’t need it, but refusing the offer would be very rude. “I’m Captain Maxine Sterling, this is my executive officer, Commander Celeste Mac Fadden.”

  “Thank you for allowing us aboard, Captain,” I say as I shake her hand. “May I present some of my key command crew from Cutlass, executive officer Athena, my chief pilot Will Baumgartner, my wing commander Shawna Landers and my chief engineer, Ross Jenkins.” All hands shake; “howdys” and “hiyas” exchanged. It takes about a minute. In reality, I would be within my rights to point out that now I’m Captain and give Sterling a specific time frame in which to get off my ship. But as the shuttle pilot—I have to attempt to learn her name not just her call sign, I like the vibe I picked up from her—pointed out, there are traditions to maintain.

  “Commander Mac Fadden,” Athena obser
ves the tradition even if she doesn’t understand it. “I have a list of personnel that have signed on to Prophecy for this cruise. I have also downloaded a list of personnel who have stated desires to remain with the ship. Combining these, I have created and uploaded a proposed manning roster.”

  “Which I have received and read, ma’am,” Celeste replies. “I know that you have based your recommendations on service records and other empirical data. I have a few counter proposals, as I know the personalities of the people remaining aboard just as you know those of the ones coming with you. I feel we can iron things out within a day or two. Will that be satisfactory, ma’am?” The question is for me.

  “It will,” I respond. “As I understand we will be in port for at least a week while we finish the change of command inventory for Prophecy, load cargoes, and replenish our provisional stocks. And hopefully this week the crews will finish the tweaks on Marsha’s aquarium.”

  “None of which can begin in earnest until we are berthed,” Captain Sterling notes. “XO, what’s the timetable for that?”

  “Starport authority continues to say we are next in line for a hard berth, but they don’t say when that will be. I’ve scheduled regular queries to them until I get a firm answer.”

  “‘Regular?’” I ask.

  “Every hour, ma’am. If nothing else, I’m almost hoping they boot someone early just to shut me up.”

  “Couldn’t we just ferry supplies up by cargo module or some such?” Ross asks.

  “It would be possible, Mr. Jenkins,” Celeste answers him. “But it’s inefficient. The cargo modules have to be loaded, transported, unloaded here in the bay, and the cargo stowed while the empty module returns. If we berth, the cargo haulers can drive onto the ship and the wares offloaded directly or at least close to their storage locations. Also, the bay doors are wide enough that the haulers can move two abreast, so one can leave while one enters. But if we can’t get a berth within six hours, we’ll do it that way just to get a move on it. Folks, I hate to break up the party, but may I recommend we clear the deck? These people have work to do.”

  “Besides, Captain MacTaggert,” Captain Sterling says, “you have a walk through you want to complete. Given your experience, may I suggest we begin in Engineering? Or would you prefer to see to your quarters? Remember, as some folk are transferring from the ship the corridors will be a bit more cramped than usual. Outgoing luggage and such.”

  “The staterooms can wait. We brought no luggage with us on this hop anyway. To Engineering it is, lead on please, Captain.” Commander Mac Fadden takes Athena and Baumgartner to the left as we leave the hanger deck. We, Captain Sterling, Chief Jenkins, and I follow them out of the hangar bay and turn to the right for the long walk to Engineering. On the way, Captain Sterling points out little things that aren’t in the handbook. Helpful shortcuts from one part of the ship to another, she makes introductions to key personnel we encounter on the walk. “I wish there was a way to download your memory,” I tell her. “It would make my life a bit easier. If for no other reason than I hate to see your experience and expertise leave with you.”

  “I am of course leaving you copies of my logs and journals. You’ll find them in the holoCom in my—I mean your—office. One of my first Captains did that for me, I’ve always thought it was a fine practice. So I’ve done the same any time I leave a ship.”

  “That is a fantastic idea! I’ve been very poor at journaling; but you’ve given me reason to make it a priority. I appreciate you leaving those, ma’am. Additionally, I would like to throw a party somewhere to welcome the newcomers and bid farewell to those departing. I hope you are able to attend.”

  “Ah, yes, the famous ‘Hail and Farewell,’ or as my predecessor called it, a ‘Hi-Bye.’ We already have one planned for tomorrow evening. And I wouldn’t miss it for all the wine in Lemuria. I kind of hate to be going, but honestly I’ve grown tired of space travel. Weeks of boredom in Transit, broken up by pirates, wars, and the gods know what else that contributes to gray hair, aching joints, sore feet, and bags under the eyes. And I want to retire while I’m still able to enjoy the freedom of being retired. Ah, here we are. Engineering. Inside, you’ll find the smart kids who tend the power plants, the propulsion systems, and the fabrication facilities. And I hope I have a surprise for you.”

  “For me? I feel bad, Maxine, I didn’t get you anything.” The door slides open.

  “Hi Shownya!” A familiar voice yells. “Are we still friends?”

  Gorb!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Captain Sterling and I spend a total of three days touring the ship. She introduces me to her department heads; several will remain aboard, a few won’t. While I’m getting the tour, Celeste and Athena have sequestered themselves to finish the manning roster. At the Hi-Bye party we did have a change of command ceremony, so I am officially “Captain MacTaggert” again. I’m kind of surprised to learn that I did in fact miss it.

  I did take a while to spend some time catching up with Gorb. He stayed aboard Night Searcher until he learned of the opening for a junior Engineer on Prophecy. Most transfers are for the purpose of promotion. But Gorb doesn’t think that way. In fact, any time he’s been up for a promotion he requests a transfer to a position lower than the one he has with the goal of being promoted back to his current level. If his request isn't granted, he starts messing up. Showing up late or not at all for his shifts. And other little things that annoy managers but don’t directly endanger anyone. He loves the job and the challenges. He had learned as much about Night Searcher as he could. He also taught Ginny—she was promoted to Lead Engineer when I took command—as much as she could learn from him. It was just a good time for him to move. And his disorder keeps him from taking the boss’s seat. He can’t handle the pressures of being a leader, much less a staff officer.

  I take the liberty of informing Ross about Gorb. Before I can say anything else, Ross says, “I get it, Boss. You and he served together on Night Searcher, right? So I guess I won’t be Chief Engineer after all.”

  “As you were, Chief. Gorb is a brilliant engineer and you are lucky to have him working for you. But he’s not capable of running a team, much less a department. If you look into his personnel record—and you should—you will see a note saying something to the effect of ‘this man should never be put in a leadership or managerial position.’ And I won’t let you promote him, either. Believe me, Gorb knows more than he lets on and probably has forgotten more about this ship than you or I will ever know. Getting information out of him, though, that’s the challenge. Oh, from me to you, lay in a supply of chocolate. It’s one of the best ways to motivate and control him I ever figured out. Just be careful not to give him too much. And don’t let him bully you.”

  The day comes when those leaving the ship leave; those coming aboard finish moving in. Prophecy is crewed, provisioned and ready to depart. Maxine Sterling and I are saying our final good-byes on the port—the ship is still berthed—when a transport wheels aboard with Ms. Barron.

  “Good day to you, Captains,” she says to both of us, “may I come aboard?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Maxine grins at her. “I’m not in charge of this bucket.”

  “Please do,” I answer with a smile. “Welcome to Prophecy. I hope you have a mission for me. We’re all loaded and ready to go. All we need is a destination, purpose, and clearance to depart.”

  She smiles at me. “Then this is your lucky day. In short, you’re going to Rigg’s Station first. From there, you’ll take your short jaunt to Ardurandes to drop off Marsha, and then you’ll head to the Arthurian sector. The particulars are here,” she holds out a data chip that I accept. You’re looking at about 26 weeks in Transit. Your mission will take you to the inhabited worlds of the system. As provisions and morale will permit, you are directed to visit other systems and planets in the sector, but not outside it. There are still some diplomatic…curiosities that preclude such. I’m sure you’re wondering why Rigg’s after the
prolonged stay here. It will give you opportunity to top off your provisions and to see if anything shakes loose with the new crew.”

  “And because you can’t leave the Ramaris sector without stopping at Rigg’s.” Maxine supplies turning to me. “Even if your destination is Heaven.” We all laugh; it’s a standing tradition that doesn’t always make sense. “And now, Captain,” Maxine turns to face me. “I will bid you fare well and open skies. I hope your journey is boring and that you bring back your crew suffering from laziness and obesity.”

  “Thank you, Lady Sterling,” I understand she’s received such a title upon retiring, “I likewise hope your retirement is beneficial and exciting.”

  We shake hands and Maxine turns to Angela. “Would you be able to give a tired old lady a ride back to civilization?”

  “Of course, Lady Sterling,” she gestures at the transport. Maxine picks up her attaché case and boards. Turning to me, Ms. Barron says,

  “One last thing for you, Captain,” she holds out a second data chip.

  I take it from her but don’t drop it in my pocket just yet. “What’s on it?”

  “An invoice,” she says as her gaze turns hard. “As you have no doubt surmised, I was unsuccessful in keeping you from command of this vessel and crew. The Academy did grant me this concession though: Should your ship be destroyed or captured, your crew killed or enslaved, or in any other way your mission be deemed a failure, the Academy of Ancients will execute the lien placed on MacTaggert Enterprises for the construction costs of the vessel, the payroll and insurance payouts for the crew. The bottom line is this: Return this ship and her people, or what you’ve left behind will be forfeit.” She sits in the small cart and releases the parking brake. “Anything I can do for you before I wish you farewell?”