by Darrell Bain
"A longboat is different. Here, you're going to be an officer among the very enlisted persons you've been living and working with intimately since we left Earth. It is going to be difficult, not only for you but for all of us, ratings and officers alike.” She gave him a wry, lopsided smile. “Such officers as we have left. Are you following me here, Jeremy?"
"Um, I believe so, ma'am. I think I can handle myself among the ratings okay. After all, I had somewhat the same problem after being promoted to Chief. Frankly, ma'am, I'm more worried about making a fool of myself while associating with the other officers than with the ratings. Yourself included, Skipper,” he added pointedly.
Her smile disappeared. “And what do you mean by that, Lieutenant?” she asked sharply.
"You know what I mean, Skipper.” He didn't flinch under her stare nor while waiting for her to reply.
"Jeremy ... I'm going to say this once, and then I don't want to hear it mentioned again. Neither you nor I can help it if we fell in love. Human hearts aren't computers, and there's no use trying to pretend otherwise. What matters is that I, as your superior officer, was wrong to act on my feelings and give you a chance to do the same. It was my fault, not yours. But it can't happen again. There were good reasons for me telling you that afterward, and there are even better reasons now. Commander Brackett intended to get this boat home and warn Earth of the Monkyclaws. Now that I'm in command, that is also my intention. I can't afford to have personal feelings right now. Too much depends on it. Do you understand?"
He stared back at her, lips tight, but he nodded. “I do,” he said. The words came reluctantly, she thought, but once he said them she knew he would do his best to live up to them. He was no longer a boy, or even a young man in attitude, but rather a seasoned explorer who had experienced more terror and grief on his first cruise than most explorers would in a lifetime.
"Good. The other officers will help you adjust, so long as you don't let your new rank go to your head. Just do your best, and when you have questions, see me, or even better, see Rufus Shinzyki. He's got more experience in these situations than the rest of us put together."
He smiled for the first time and nodded agreement. “Yes, ma'am, I imagine he does."
"Fine. I think that will be all for now. Go talk to Rayne. She'll help you get moved into officer's row and otherwise squared away. She's also in charge of the watch schedule, so you can find out from her when you're due in the control room next."
"Yes. ma'am. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Jeremy. It's no more than you deserve. I'll announce your promotion on the all-hands now so the rest of the crew will know."
After she made his and the other promotions from Acting Chief to Brevet Chief known over the com, she sat where she was for long minutes, thinking of Jeremy and wishing for what couldn't be. She felt a wetness fill her eyelashes. Having wiped the tears away, she went back to considering all the problems of commanding Hurricane Jack. Presently she thought of a solution for one of them—the paucity of Explorer officers. Ten minutes later she had Casey Dugan and Justin Lake across the desk from her in the Commander's day cabin and was offering Dugan a brevet commission to EO, Explorer Officer.
"Certainly, I'll accept it, if you and Mr. Lake feel I'm ready for it,” she said.
"We do, Mr. Dugan. Thank you and congratulations. Mr. Lake, does this help solve your problem of a shortage in officers?"
"That certainly takes care of half of it, Skipper. Casey was already my first choice, and I'll have another name for your consideration shortly."
"Fine. How about you taking care of Mr. Dugan now and getting her squared away before we deorbit tomorrow?"
"Will do, ma'am. Come along, Casey."
As they departed, Lisa wished every problem was that easy to solve.
* * * *
Jeremy found Rayne Medford in the control room with COB Shinzyki and Gerald Sparks. He stepped inside, a little uncertain who to speak to first. Shinzyki took care of it for him.
"Good day, sir,” he said easily.
"Um, hello, Mr. Shinzyi. Uh, I guess I'll be back a little later but ... I need to see Lieutenant Medford."
"She's here,” he said politely, as if she weren't in plain sight.
He felt color rising on his neck and went over to her. Gerald Sparks stood up from where he was monitoring the com and entering the log notations to congratulate him.
"I just heard, sir. The Skipper just announced it. Congratulations."
"Thank you, Sparks."
"I suspect you're looking for me, aren't you, Lieutenant Costa?” Medford said.
"Uh, yes, ma'am. The Skipper said you'd, uh, show me what to do."
"Right you are. COB, you have the watch."
"I have the watch,” Shinzyki agreed in the formal control room monotone.
As soon as they were out in the passageway, Medford grabbed his arm. He stopped and looked at her inquiringly.
"Jeremy, first off, we're the same rank now. You don't say ma'am to me. Unless we're on duty and you're being formal, my name is Rayne. Got it?"
"Um, okay, Rayne.” Using her first name felt peculiar, but he supposed it was going to be nothing compared to calling COB Shinzyki “Rufus."
"Did the Skipper give you any insignia?"
"No."
"S'ok, I have a spare set I'll give you. I'll even take your Chief insignia off your cammies for you."
"Thanks."
Rayne went with him, to offer moral support and to help carry his belongings from his old cabin to the one formerly occupied by Erica Dumas. The hatch was still open and Rayne was standing beside it waiting on him to finish when Lake and Casey Dugan appeared. As he came back out into the corridor after stowing the last load of his belongings, he almost ran into Casey. She had already removed her insignia and was wearing EO3 Grade pips on the collar of her cammies.
"Looks like we're going to be next door neighbors, Jere,” she said with a whimsical smile.
"Um, uh huh. Congratulations ... Casey."
"Same to you, Jeremy. If you won't misplace any decimal points I'll try not to swat you too hard the next chance we work out, if we ever have time to do it again."
"To learn from you, I'll make time, Casey,” he returned.
"Are you finished, Jere?” Rayne asked.
"I guess so. All I have to do is remember where I live when I come off duty so tired I can't see straight."
"You'll manage. Let's go. See you folks later."
Back in the control room, he sat down with Rayne and looked at the schedule she'd made out. It had him and Trammell on duty together one twelve hour shift and her and Shinzyki the other, with Sparks there only during the “day” shift of 0700 to 1900 hours.
"Not much of a watch list, I'll admit, but I had to pair you with the Skipper, since she's going to be refreshing her astrogation techniques with you. Have you thought of anyone for a new trainee?"
"My head is spinning so fast right now I haven't had time to think about it. The last I heard, he or she was going to be picked for me. But since you ask, if I was the one doing the choosing, I'd pick Franica Bzinski. She acts like a dumb Polish blond sometimes, but she's really smart as a whip. If she has enough math and if ... uh ... Justin will release her, I think she'd do fine."
"Unlikely as it might seem, the Skipper also mentioned her name to me. I'll—no, you get with Justin and see how he feels about it. If he gives the okay, tell the Skipper. May as well get it started soon as possible. Not wishing you any bad luck, but I'd feel much better with a backup on board."
"Actually, I would, too, but I suspect Lieutenant Commander Trammell has forgotten less about astrogation than she lets on. Between her and ... Rufus ... I bet they could get the boat back home if they had to."
"Maybe, but I'd just as soon not find out!” Rayne said emphatically.
* * * *
By the end of the day, Jeremy was back in the control room, sitting with Lisa at the simulator and trying to discover how much a
strogation theory and practice she had retained since opting for operations as her officer's specialty. He decided to treat her exactly as Chambers had done him, starting with the basics and gradually working toward a combination of theory and practice. Two hours later, he concluded that she needed quite a lot of instruction. It surprised him, until he remembered that she was twenty years older than he, notwithstanding the fact that she didn't look it, which meant it had been at least that long since she'd been through the academy.
"Ma'am, we're going to have to go back and have you review and study your math before you start handling the computer for transits,” he said seriously. “Your graphics recognition is fine, though. It's better than mine, in fact, so you shouldn't have any problems with plotting. We'll need to go over the basic stellar spectrums, though."
"Um, Jeremy I believe I know the spectrums well enough."
"Yes, ma'am, but I don't know any other way to teach. This is how Lieutenant Commander Chambers did it with me."
She stared at him, and then dropped her gaze back to the screen. “All right, Jeremy. Do it your own way. I'll dig in and do some extra studying and you can test me on it."
"Thank you, ma'am. I'm sure you'll do fine."
She leaned close. “You don't have to ma'am me every time you open your mouth, Jere, especially while we're studying together. Eventually it would begin aggravating me."
"Well, I wouldn't want to do that. You might throw me in the brig."
"Right you are,” she said with a chuckle. “Let's call it quits for now. We have a big day in front of us tomorrow."
"Yes ma—all right,” he said.
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Chapter Twenty-Five
The satellite of the gas giant proved to be one of the most earth-like planets yet discovered, at least so far as Jeremy could tell from where Hurricane Jack had come down. The area chosen was on the outside curve of a large river draining the eastern half of the single large continent in the northern hemisphere. The river cut through a broad sweep of plains covered by a thick mat of short, bulbous green growth less than knee high near the river but graduating to meters-tall stands of almost the same type of vegetation farther away. A range of mountains stood in the distance, overlooking one side of the river—the one hosting the longboat—and a rolling wave of short foothills on the other which went on and on. The hills sported groves of tall plants resembling mesquite trees mixed with even taller foliage with spikes for limbs and dangling bunches of whip-like vines depending from them. From space they had seen vast herds of beasts busily grazing the plains and packs of carnivores feeding off them. The air was warm and humid but not overly so.
Jeremy thought colonists would love it, especially since the meat animals had the proteins and amino acids that were almost identical with those found on Earth. Anyone with a rifle and a means of making a fire could easily live off the land, and he had no doubt that some of the vegetation would be edible. The river teemed with fish analogues with a meat-like flavor that made fine tasty eating. The crew very nearly foundered on them, once the water tanks were topped off and they had time to cook.
Justin brought a load of the filets into the boat for the off duty crew—and Jeremy. While getting on the outside of a huge portion of the tender meat at the next meal in the officer's dayroom, he listened to Justin and Casey discussing the best way to collect some of the big herbivores to stock the organics tanks.
Right upstream, the banks of the river had been torn up and nearly denuded of vegetation. “It's a watering hole,” Justin explained. “We can use a silenced rifle, pick them off from the boat, and let them float down to us."
"There's nothing there now,” Casey reminded him.
"Just be patient for a day or two, and you'll see,” he said to Casey, who was favoring using a bluff overlooking the river even farther away.
"A team of explorers could use firearms to wound and panic a herd so as to drive them over the cliff and into the river. Hell, they'd float right down to us—all we could possibly use."
"Oh, I've no doubt it would work,” Justin replied, “but you have to admit it's dangerous. The ones going out to panic them into running off the bluff could very easily get caught in a stampede and be trampled. Let's wait. We have a silenced rifle stored somewhere, but if not, the fabricator can easily build a silencer. All we'd have to do is kill what we need when a herd comes to water."
"Okay, I suppose we can spare a day or two,” Casey said.
Three days later, their organic tanks were well stocked and the crew was happily grilling steaks. Jeremy gazed out of one of the control room viewports with a nostalgic longing, knowing he wasn't going to be allowed to set foot on the beautiful world. Or any other—not until he got the Skipper and Franika trained.
* * * *
The only danger to the explorers might have been the long-legged carnivores that killed with long sharp horns jutting from their heads, but something about the human smell caused them always to run the other way.
"Not much of a challenge around here,” Justin told him on the fourth day after returning to the boat for rest. “The critters practically jump into the pot."
"Which tells me that somewhere else on the planet, they may have the means to put us in the pot,” Jeremy said. “Isn't it usually true that there's always something dangerous to humans on every planet we've explored?"
"Yup, but I like this place. The crew wants to name it Summertown."
He chuckled. “The names we give our discoveries. It's a wonder the xenographers don't put a price on our heads."
"You're right about that, Jere. I hope we don't have to stay here too long."
"Huh? Why not, Justin? It seems the perfect environment for us to repair the boat. Haven't you found the ore Rayne was wanting for the fabricators?"
"Oh, yeah. That's why we set down here, remember? It's only a few kilometers to the ore. And plenty of wood analogue for other repairs, shelving and bracing and such. That's not my concern."
"Then what is?"
He looked around even though no one else was present in the dayroom. “The crew's getting tired, Jeremy."
"So? Hell, I'm tired, for that matter, and I haven't even been out of the boat."
"Wasn't what I meant. When I say tired, I mean long-term tired—tired of the constant struggle to get home—tired of seeing their friends die."
He still didn't understand. “So? What other choice ... oh! I get you."
"Right. The longer we stay here, the more some of the crew are going to think it would make a good permanent home.” He raised his brows.
"We can't stay,” Jeremy exclaimed. “We have to warn Earth. Sooner or later, the Monkeyclaws will come looking for us. Just as sure as hell is hot, the Monkeyclaw colonists have told their home world that there's another space-faring species poking around in their back yard."
"I'm not arguing. I'm just telling you what's on my mind."
"Have you said anything to the Skipper about it?"
"No, but I intend to. I'm with you. We need to warn Earth, and it doesn't matter a damn how tired we are or how much we'd like to settle down. If those goddamned Monkeys discovered Earth and the home worlds right now, we wouldn't stand a chance. Hell, the navy has been cut so drastically that we don't have anything to fight with!"
* * * *
"Another week and we should have her in as good a shape as she'll ever be,” Shinzyki said to Trammell at the informal conference in the control room right at the change of watch. “I've worked up a set of algorithms to help stabilize the boat in atmosphere, but I sure will hate to show up on Earth with the Hurricane looking like something drug out of a salvage yard, though."
"Never satisfied,” Rayne chuckled. “Isn't it enough that you'll have everything repaired and the boat fully stocked? Shucks, we have more refined material in the fabricator bins now than we did to start with!"
"Great,” Lake said. “The sooner we can leave, the better."
Trammell eyed him c
ritically. “Is the crew really agitating that much to stay?” she asked. Only officers were present in the control room at the impromptu meeting. Sparks had left with the change of watch, while Medford and Shinzyki were staying over.
"Ummm, let's just say that I'd feel much better about the situation if this hadn't been such a damn fine world. Colonists will pay a premium to settle here, once we go back and report. As is, I'm worried that some of the crew want to colonize it, and I don't mean after we get home. They're thinking of now."
"We'll have to see that it doesn't happen,” the Commander replied calmly. “You said we've got one more week, Rufus?"
"Yes, ma'am, unless you want to leave now and try doing the remaining repairs in space before transit. I don't recommend it, though."
"Understood. All right, I'm charging every one of you with doing whatever you can to dispel the notion of Hurricane Jack abandoning its mission and colonizing Summertime. We simply can't allow that to happen. Justin, I want you and Casey to be in charge of finding out what mood the crew is in while we finish the repairs, since you two will be mingling with them the most. Let me know two days before we're due to lift off whether or not the crew is actually serious about colonizing, or simply sounding off or using it as a means of grieving. We can live with griping and we can live with tears. Every ship or boat has a certain amount of both going on all the time. What we can't live with is what would, in effect, be a mutiny."
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but supposing Casey or I find out that's exactly what the majority of the crew are thinking?"
"Then I'll have to do something about it."
Jeremy had never seen her look so grim.
* * * *
I don't know what in hell to do, Lisa thought as she finally turned off the simulated transits. They certainly weren't helping her regain what proficiency she'd once had in astrogation. The last simulated transit had killed the boat.
She stripped off her cammies while wishing for the time to come, on Earth, where she would have a regular uniform to wear. Rufus, bless his mourning heart, had managed to craft a set of pips for Jeremy and Casey to wear on the collar of their cammies. She also wished idly that they could use the fabricators for some new boots for the crew. They were still functional but beginning to look awfully ratty. She knew that a sharp appearance helped morale, but the fabricators had to be saved for crucial items. Which leads right back to where I started—what to do about getting the crew off this damned too-good-to-be-true world?