Metal Boxes - Rusty Hinges
Page 32
Stone froze. That was something he hadn’t thought about. The subject of children was something he was going to have to discuss with Allie. They’d barely started discussing marriage, both mentioning that they wanted children. Well, Allie wanted them. Stone knew Grandpa expected him to produce an heir to the family fortunes … eventually.
He’d never thought about the word “eventually”. It’d always been a long time off in the future, but what if he shouldn’t, or worse, couldn’t have children?
The family would shift to the next heir. That was what their numbering system was all about. Grandpa was one. Mother was dos. Stone was trey. Both mother and Aunt Ruth would abdicate when the time came. So would his cousin Brenda as she was well on her way to becoming a medical doctor and wouldn’t give that up. His cousin Jim Jr. was next. Jimbo was a goof — no, he’d been a goof as a kid, but they were no longer children.
He didn’t know what Jimbo wanted, but somewhere along the family line, the right heir would be found. The Stones were a large family, especially when you began counting distant cousins. Someone to run the family fortunes was always available and that would be someone who didn’t desire the money or the power, but had the ability to manage their vast enterprises without losing themselves to the lure of wealth.
But would Allison Vedrian still want to be his wife if children were off the table?
The doctor said, “What changes would be wrought in a drasco with nanites? You don’t know and neither do I. I’m a doctor trained to treat humans, but I find myself assigned to a bastardized ship that has humans, both civilian and military, with drascos and piglet vent runners. Did you know that Commander Butcher took a page from Major Numos’s book and enlisted the vent runners into the navy?”
Stone hadn’t known that, but it made sense. He smiled at the thought. Piglets in the navy would make vetting the drascos into the marines less of a challenge.
“Don’t smile, young man. That makes me responsible for the piglet’s medical care, so I’ve studied everything I can find about them, as little information as that is. They’re navy so I have to keep them healthy, even if I don’t know what I’m doing. The drascos are marines, so I’ve read every file on them I can find, just as I’m more than conversant about your own none-too-standard medical history.”
“But, I’m healthy, Doc. More than ever.”
“Yes, you are. And I will admit that none of the changes in your body is beyond human capability. I mean, you can’t fly can you? You don’t have X-ray vision, do you? You can’t shapeshift into a tiger, right?”
Stone shook his head. He hadn’t thought about trying to fly. He didn’t have wings, but if he had a set of stable manufactured wings, he might get off the ground. He hadn’t tried to shapeshift either, but he doubted it was a good thing to try when he was inside his combat suit. He didn’t have xray vision because he’d tried using it when Allie was in the shower and he’d failed miserably, having to go into the gazebo and stare first hand.
“But, all of your changes are beyond the norm. Some humans have good vision, but I don’t have a record of any human with vision as sharp as yours. Some humans have great hearing, but I don’t have a record of any human with hearing as great as yours. Some humans have sensitive olfactory receptors, but I don’t have a record of any human with a nose as extremely refined as yours. And some humans have an exceptionally tough epidermis, but I don’t have a record of any human with skin as thick and tough as yours.”
“But, still human?”
“Still human, for now, Ensign. But that’s my point about giving nanites designed for humans to drascos. What is normal for a drasco? Would giving Private Anne a full range of marine combat nanites force her body to change into a male? We’ve got enough problems on this ship without a rampaging male drasco tearing through our corridors.”
Stone hadn’t thought of that possibility. He nodded, “I withdraw my request to give Anne nanites. I’ve met a male drasco and it isn’t something I want to do again.”
The doctor chucked, “I’ve seen the video of that encounter. You were lucky and stupid both, but can you imagine how much harder that would have been if it had been a male trained for combat by marines?” He looked pointedly at Anne.
Anne took the hint and typed into her translator, “I’ll be fine, Mama. It doesn’t hurt … much.” Her eyes took on the unconvincing look of pain. “Maybe you could bring me some more ooze next time. That might make me feel better.”
Jay said, “Greedy little pig. I’ll bring you two bars later, but you be careful or you’ll get fat and lazy just laying around doing nothing.” Her voice was soft regardless of the words.
Stone’s dataport blared. “Ensign Stone to the bridge. Jump into Allie’s World in a hundred twenty minutes.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Stone raced onto the bridge. Two hours gave him plenty of time to get from medical to the bridge, but he liked to run. Sliding to a stop, he slid into a seat next to Doctor Wyznewski. He smiled a greeting to Major Numos and Doctor Emmons.
Butcher said, “Glad you could finally join us, Ensign.” There was a hint of humor in the man’s sarcasm.
Numos asked, “Private Anne doing okay?”
Stone nodded. He wondered how Numos knew where he’d been. “She’s healing quickly, sir. Not as quick as she would with the nanites, but fast enough.”
Numos nodded, “I stopped by earlier to check on her. What? That shouldn’t be a surprise. She’s part of my command now, right? I dropped off a bar of that ooze they eat up like candy this morning and she seemed good, not ready to return to duty, but good.”
Smiling, Stone nodded. Anne was turning into quite a little con artist at getting people to bring her the ooze. He wondered if she was eating it all, storing some for later, or even selling some to her sisters.
Butcher pointed at the time display hanging over the conference table. The time was counting down to the jump. “We’ve read and re-read the Rusty Hinges database on the jump from the piglet homeworld into Allie’s World. Their initial jump into the piglet home system was met with a repulsar mine that threw them back into hyperspace. We know how much time they spent in hyperspace because their database automatically recorded the time spent. Whizzer’s team has confirmed that information.”
Stone was aware of the double jump. How the Hyrocanians had found Allie’s World by accident was common knowledge on the ship. He and Danielle Wright had found Allie’s World the first time by accident as well.
Butcher continued. “The Hyrocanians jumped out of hyperspace and spent an undetermined amount of time in normal space before jumping into and out of hyperspace again to find Allie’s World. The time between the jumps is unknown, but the time in hyperspace is well known to us.”
Gupta said, “Both of the shuttles we sent back earlier with data followed the double jump pattern exactly, retracing the Hyrocanian’s trip. Unfortunately, we haven’t heard back from either shuttle.”
Butcher nodded. “I have decided the Rusty Hinges is going to make the trip as a single jump, combining the times of both hyperspace jumps. Our computers, our civilian scientists, and our astrogation team has assured us that they don’t know if it will work or not. But, they can’t tell us if a double jump works either.” He smiled and clapped his hands in excitement. “I like a good surprise, don’t you?”
Stone wasn’t sure he was as fond of surprises as Butcher. The decision wasn’t his. He was a lowly ensign whose whole responsibility was as a staff advisor to the ship’s captain on the bridge. Advising the captain on a decision that he’d already made didn’t make sense, so he held his tongue. Not that he would advise the captain to make a double jump instead of combining the times into a single jump, but both methods involved timing and avoided the problems of jumping into and out of hyperspace without using known and tested navigation points. He’d done that before and almost crashed into a space station.
He glanced at the time display. The time seemed to have barely moved fro
m the two-hour mark. He was beginning to hate time — the accumulation of it, the passage of it, and that stupid thing where time in hyperspace didn’t count in real time and went away.
As a freighter’s kid growing up, he was well aware that making friends with children on space stations was a waste of time. From their perspective, he might have been gone only a few short months, but in his time, because most of a freighter’s time was spent in hyperspace going from one space depot to the next, he could have aged a year or more. People aged in hyperspace, but normal time didn’t exist in hyperspace, so people aged without normal time passing.
No time passed in hyperspace was because there wasn’t anything in hyperspace: no light, no heat, no energy, no matter, no length, depth, width, height, or even any time. Nothing was nothing. Time was something, even though time itself was weirdly flexible in normal space. Speed effected time, causing strange dilations. Gravity effected time, causing the rate of time to change. Watching the time display, Stone wondered what was causing the countdown to seem like it was slowing down until it was barely creeping by.
Stone looked up. Everyone had something to do. Numos was wrangling a pile of reports on his data port. Doing double duty as the marine company commander and the Rusty Hinges third watch commander, he had twice as many reports to fill out. Butcher and Gupta had their heads together, working on some personnel issue. The bridge crew all seemed to be turning this dial, punching that button or tweeking some display. Even Dr. Wyznewski had Dr. Emmon’s neck to nuzzle while she was writing another of her interminable behavior reports on someone.
He felt useless on the bridge. Still, if he wasn’t here, there wasn’t anywhere else he had to be. He had initially been assigned to watch over the piglets. The vent runners were navy now and no longer his responsibility. The piglets from the space commander’s family, on their way to Allie’s World to colonize the land he’d offered them, didn’t need his oversight. They were at home farming and managing the various gardens, hydroponic and otherwise, scattered around the ship. A few of them decided they liked ship life much better than planets and had announced they weren’t leaving the ship no matter how nice Allie’s World was.
His drascos were marines now, but he still felt responsible for them. They were too intelligent and becoming too mature to require his babysitting services. In fact, he’d seen so little of them lately he had to go looking for them when he needed some drasco time.
Navy officers all over the ship had duties to attend to. Thinking about it, the only gap in the Rusty Hinges officer contingent was the officer in charge of waste systems. The NCO who’d taken charge of the systems when LTSG Missimaya was ordered confined to his quarters was running them more efficiently than Stone could or Missimaya had. If he had more time, he might go down to the kitchens and see what Tim Dollish was up to.
But there was that time thing again. He had time, but didn’t since he was supposed to be here. The time display slowed down further, barely clicking forward second by second. He wanted to pull out his own dataport and verify the accuracy of the clock on the display. He didn’t. He sat watching Doctor Wyznewski and wondering where Allie was and what she was doing. He let his mind drift.
“Navigation, sir. Sixty seconds to jump.”
The phrase snapped Stone back to awareness.
“Sixty seconds.” Butcher acknowledged. “Navigation, you have the con. Take us out of hyperspace on your mark. Tactical?”
“Tactical, sir. We’re squawking IFF on all freqs. Loud as we can, sir.”
Numos reached across the conference table and changed the display from the countdown clock to the ship’s external view. He settled back into his chair to stare.
The monitor showed the gray of nothing.
A glare of light replaced the gray.
“Navigation, sir. Translation successful.”
“Tactical, sir. Minefield dead ahead.”
Butcher shouted. “Helm, dead stop.”
“Helm, sir. Aye, aye, dead stop.”
“Tactical, sir. They’re human mines and responding to our IFF. We’ve —”
“Astrogation, sir. Star charts match Allie’s World.”
“Tactical, sir. We’ve got navy ships massing across our front. Their shields just went up. Weapons are spinning up hot —”
Butcher said, the calmness in his voice infectious. “Comms open.”
“Comms, sir. Aye, aye, comms open.”
“Tactical, sir. We’re squawking IFF loud and hard on all freqs. They should be —”
A navy admiral flashed onto the monitors. He smiled and said, “Welcome home, Rusty Hinges. We were just about to come looking for you.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
United Empire Navy officer Ensign Senior Grade Blackmon Perry Stone sat on the veranda of his guest bungalow. He propped his bare feet up on a small wicker ottoman. The overhead fan swished back and forth with a slow rhythmic monotony, but the pleasant onshore zephyr overwhelmed its delicate breeze. The view of the black sand beach and calm, blue ocean were stunning through the grove of thirty foot tall ferns surrounding the building. The scene wasn’t spoiled in the least by small groups of families and military personnel playing in the mild surf.
Picking up the fruity drink off the side table, he swished it, unconsciously matching the rhythm of the fan overhead and the roll of the surf from the beach. This wasn’t Peach’s Rest, but it sure beat living in his assigned BOQ room. He glanced over his shoulder at Allie asleep in their bed, her half-naked body, lying twisted in the sheets.
The amenities here were much better than even his room aboard the Rusty Hinges. A thank you note to Queen Danielle was definitely in order. She offered him the use of his old governor quarters for as long as he was on the planet. He may not have any official duties while on leave, but Allie was filling in his nothing to do time quite nicely.
He wanted to ignore the space commander’s invitation to visit their new piglet colony and review their progress. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than spending quiet time with Allie. He wanted to ignore the invitation, but he wouldn’t. The piglets put on quite a feast and throw one heck of a party, once they get past their speeches.
He shifted slightly as a loud screech filled the air. No strange odors wafted up from the beach alerting him to danger, but he looked anyway. Newly promoted Sergeant Barbara Tuttle was holding Petty Officer Third Class Tim Dollish over her head. With a heave, she tossed the young navy man into the clear, clean water. The screech had been one of delight. Dollish even managed to keep his swim trunks on this time. Tuttle followed Dollish into the water with a wild spray.
The light warm wind blowing in from the beach brought him the fragrance of cinnamon. The odor wasn’t pleasant like cinnamon on snickerdoodles. This fragrance had overtones of burnt garlic so strong he could almost taste it on the back of his tongue and it made his eyes water. He knew the drifting odor and it wasn’t a good thing.
Stone was halfway to the beach at a full run before the guard towers made their clack and whir drive to their height. A sharp report cracked through the air and the towers settled back down. A small geyser spouted far out to sea, well beyond the safety nets. The all clear sounded. The partiers on the beach barely looked up from their fruity drinks, books, or games.
Turning around, he walked back to his bungalow.
Allie sat up in the bed, the sheet pulled up to her neck. As he entered, she dropped the sheet and wiggled her fingers in a “come here” command.
The End
Books
By
Alan Black
Science Fiction
Metal Boxes
Metal Boxes - Trapped Outside
Metal Boxes - Rusty Hinges
Chewing Rocks
Empty Space
Larry Goes To Space
Steel Walls and Dirt Drops
Titanium Texicans
Christian Historical Fiction
(An Ozark Mountain Series 1920 Trilogy)
The Granite Heart
The Heaviest Rock
(An Ozark Mountain Series 1925 Trilogy)
The Inconvenient Pebble
The Jasper’s Courage
The King’s Rock
General Fiction
Chasing Harpo
Western
A Cold Winter
Non-Fiction
How To Start, Write, and Finish Your First Novel
About the author
www.alanblackauthor.com
Alan Black has been writing novels since 1996 when he started Eye on The Prize. He is an Amazon #1 bestselling author for Metal Boxes, a young adult, science fiction, military, action adventure and he’s a multi-genre writer who has never met a good story he didn't want to tell.
Alan spent most of his adult life in the Kansas City area. The exception came at the orders from the U.S. Air Force when he was stationed in Texas, California, Maryland, and Japan. He and his wife were married in the late 70s and lived in Independence, Missouri, but now live in sunny Arizona.
Alan Black's vision statement: "I want my readers amazed they missed sleep because they could not put down one of my books. I want my readers amazed I made them laugh on one page and cry on the next. I want to give my readers a pleasurable respite from the cares of the world for a few hours. I want to offer stories I would want to read."
Praise for Alan Black’s books
Chewing Rocks
Chastity Snowden Whyte only has a small chip on her shoulder. No problem. She’s an asteroid miner and works alone. But author Alan Black knows that comfortable characters don’t make for good reading. From page one, he piles problem after problem on Sno, keeping the reader turning pages to find out what happens next. Chewing Rocks is engaging science fiction and a fun read.