To Sail a Darkling Sea - eARC

by John Ringo

  “Rather not explain that,” Faith said. “I can’t even talk about it with the Marines. And… If I can input on it, I’d just as well not have to deal with him again.”

  “There are not many of us,” Steve said. “More, thank God, every day. But still so few. Absent throwing him off the island or, rather, on an island, you’ll have to deal with him at some point. On the subject of Captain Wilkes or any other superior… ”

  “Do not undermine his authority,” Faith said.

  “Except in one limited circumstance,” Steve said. “And even then, especially then, you have to be punctilious with your professional demeanor. So it is not, in fact, undermining his authority.”

  “Which is?” Faith asked. “Which is, sir?”

  “When you’re an instructor,” Steve said. “The fact that Captain Wilkes has not seen a live zombie since he jumped ship, by orders, from the Iwo has been brought up through other channels. He really cannot make rational judgments as to what is and is not normal and proper without some experience of the operations. He needs experience and he needs an experienced teacher… ”

  “Oh, Da… ” Faith said, pleadingly. “Have Lieutenant Fontana or the Gunny… ”

  “No,” Steve said. “What the Gunny and Lieutenant Fontana are going to do is give you a quick class in how to be a subordinate and an instructor. From what I’ve heard, you have it mostly down. The Marines certainly think that you’d have made a great Tactical Instructor. At least when it comes to zombie fighting. I’ll have the Gunny and Lieutenant Fontana, both of whom have experience with training more senior officers, explain to you the dos and don’ts. Then you will train Wilkes with your team back-stopping. And you will treat him with due respect. Is this understood, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir,” Faith said.

  “Now, as to the combat shopping. Dress shopping, Faith. Seriously?”

  “They were Paris originals, Da!” Faith said.

  “It was my mistake using your first name,” Steve said. “In this case, again, Lieutenant, it would be ‘Captain.’ Lieutenant Chen feels that it was a serious error in judgment on your part and I cannot disagree. Not to mention the wall against infiltrating infected as we clear these ships is rather shaky. Two lapses in judgment.”

  “In that case, Captain, I will repeat myself,” Faith said. “They were, and are, Paris originals. May I state my case?”

  “Go ahead,” Steve said, leaning back in his chair.

  “I am not sure that the argument will work,” Faith said. “But I’ll stand by it. And I’ve had time to think about this one. First, I agree that I had a lapse in judgment as well as, uhm, not sure what the right term is. But I shouldn’t have looked for a dress at that time and with my team helping me. That was sort of stupid. But I wasn’t sure that we could hold the position. As it is, I would strongly argue that we need to… word, starts with a p, means important, sort of like property… ”

  “Prioritize?” Steve said.

  “That one,” Faith said. “I would recommend, Captain, that we prioritize getting them out of the compartment and to a safe place.”

  “They’re dresses, Faith,” Steve said. “I get that you wanted a dress… ”

  “Sir, again, they are not just dresses,” Faith said, frowning. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe… Money terms? The dress that I grabbed, on the rack, in a store, would run thirty thousand dollars, sir.”

  “Ouch,” Steve said.

  “Now you’re getting it, Da,” Faith said with a grin. “We never could have afforded these for prom. That container contains several million dollars worth of clothing. And it’s more than that, sir. I guess it’s an MWR issue. But all the clothes we’ve got are either slops that were from infecteds or pulled off of salvage or uniforms. Pretty… matters to a woman. Just about any woman. The reason we propped the door the way we did was to keep the infected from screwing up, like, the last pretty thing in the world, sir. Those are the last Paris originals anyone will probably ever see. I… I don’t know how to put it any better, sir. A woman would understand, sir. But everybody in my chain of command is a guy. No offense.”

  “Not quite,” Steve said, thoughtfully. “Stand by.”

  He leaned up and toggled his computer to video then hit the link to the Dallas.

  “Dallas, retrans to the Hole, personal for General Brice.”

  “Roger, Squadron, stand by.”

  “Captain,” Brice said, nodding. “How’s the clearance going?”

  “Nominal,” Steve said. “It helps having Marines, that’s for sure. Still not finding many survivors but there’s always hope.”

  “Is it going to affect your primary mission?” Brice asked.

  “We’ve got the time,” Steve said. “It’s clear these or continue clearance at sea until the tropicals pass. If we’d left for Gitmo instead of Tenerife when we left… ”

  “I’ve seen the satellite imagery,” Brice said. “You’d be getting pounded.”

  “We’ll leave this area late November for Gitmo, General,” Steve said. “But that wasn’t the reason for the call.”

  “And the reason for the call is?” General Brice asked.

  “I have a potential discipline issue which overlaps with personal and I need both a more experienced professional’s opinion and, sorry, a woman’s,” Steve said. “Fortunately… ”

  “I’m both,” Brice said, chuckling. “Personal?”

  “My daughter, Faith, took time out during a mission to secure a container that contained what she states is valuable material,” Steve said. “She also put her Marines somewhat at risk both securing the materials and finding some for herself.”

  “That’s… not good,” Brice said, shaking her head. “You don’t put your people at risk for personal gain.”

  “She agrees that her actions at the time were… poor judgment,” Steve said. “But to prevent the materials from being damaged by the infected she also elected to weaken the defenses. The container was being used to block the pier we’re holding and she had the Marines brace the outer door to keep the infecteds out of the container. Bracing the inner door would have made it functionally impossible for them to get onto the wharf, but also would have allowed them access to the container.”

  “Tell her what it was,” Faith hissed.

  Steve waved for her to be silent.

  “I’ve seen the satellite imagery,” Brice said. “We were wondering why you’d done it that way. That had better be some pretty important material.”

  “Well, that’s the question, General,” Steve said. “It sort of hinges on that. It was dresses.”

  “Dresses?” Brice said, shaking her head. “I didn’t think Faith was a shopaholic, Captain.”

  “Tell her what kind!” Faith hissed.

  “Faith is present and insists that I point out that they were Paris originals,” Steve said.

  “WHAT?” Brice said, leaning forward in her chair and grabbing the monitor. “What kind?”

  “Yves Saint Laurent!” Faith said, jumping up and leaning around to crane her head in front of the camera. “They’re, like, gorgeous!”

  “How many?” Brice asked.

  “A whole container full!” Faith said.

  “Is there a four?” Brice said. “Tell me there’s a four!”

  “There’s like, every size!” Faith said. “Pick a color!”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Brice said, leaning back and holding up her hands. “Professional. How endangered were your Marines, Lieutenant?”

  “Ma’am, if at any point it got down to close quarters, I would have drawn back and let the infected have the container,” Faith said. “Reluctantly.”

  “I bet reluctantly,” Brice said. “You shouldn’t have endangered your Marines getting your own dress. What’s it like, by the way?”

  “Oh, it’s like this really hot red thing with holographic silk,” Faith said. “It turns like every shade of red you can imagine… ”

  “Oh, God,” Brice said. “It
sounds gorgeous… Still, I can understand your desire to ensure the security of the materials but remember, mission, men, me, Lieutenant. Your mission was to secure the wharf, not go dress shopping.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Faith said. “No excuse, ma’am. Will not happen again. Even if I find a container of Prada.”

  “Okay, maybe if you find a container of Prada,” Brice said, chuckling. “But even Prada is not worth losing Marines, Lieutenant. Understood?”

  “Understood, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

  “Captain,” Brice said, then paused. “I’m not sure you’ll get this, but I’m ordering you to divert any available resources not focused on clearance to emptying out that container and putting the materials somewhere safe. While Lieutenant Smith’s personal salvage spree was ill-considered, I frankly can understand it. I’d recommend a verbal counseling, this will do, that she had a lapse in judgment in securing her own needs at the expense of endangering her Marines but that her decision to ensure the security of the materials was well considered. I’m not sure that you or anyone else in her chain of command would understand that, but, well, absent being overruled by Mister Galloway, I’m the boss.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Steve said. “And I get it intellectually but it is, I suspect, a gender thing. Which was why I brought you in on it.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Brice said. “And, Faith?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Could you find me a four in blue?”

  “Absolutely,” Faith said. “I think you’re about my sister Soph’s size, General. We’ll hold one back for you.”

  “I feel terrible… ” Brice said. “No, never mind. Captain, you should distribute those to females who… Those would make very nice bonuses, Captain.”

  “I take it you only have uniforms in the Hole, ma’am?” Steve said.

  “Yep,” Brice said. “Maybe it’s a gender thing, maybe it’s cultural. But… I love my uniform and I’m proud of it. But there is, and don’t tell anyone this, a ‘woman’ side to me that really, really is dying for a splash of color.”

  “Ma’am,” Steve said. “Absent direct order to the contrary, I’ll have Faith, after we secure the materials and when she has some downtime, get on the video conference, closed, and have her show you some of them so you can pick one out in your size.”

  “I’m not sure that would be an advised use of resources, Captain,” Brice said.

  “Two points in argument, ma’am,” Steve said. “One, the situation that you are in is psychologically extremely stressful. As you noted, you are dying for a splash of color. You need something to take your mind off of, well, the zombie apocalypse, being trapped in the Hole and all it entails. Two, absent direct orders, if you think I’m not going to try to butter up the acting CJCS, you’re out of your mind already.”

  “I’ll take your first point and ignore the second, Captain,” Brice said with a laugh. “But, seriously, it’s an order. Get those secured. They’re probably the last Paris fashions on earth. Don’t distribute all of them. We’re going to have museums again, someday, and one of them should be in it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Steve said, making some notes. “I’ll order that right away.”

  “Don’t do it if you’re going to lose people,” Brice said. “Not that important.”

  “Again, not an issue, ma’am,” Steve said.

  “Anything else?” Brice asked.

  “No, ma’am,” Steve said. “Thank you for your time, ma’am.”

  “Looking forward to meeting you in person someday,” Brice said. “Both of you. Especially if you’re carrying a dress. Out here.”

  “Okay, Faith,” Steve said. “You were right on securing the dresses.”

  “I was still wrong on grabbing them right then and there, Da,” Faith said. “And… I’m sorry I lost my temper with that… the guy in the saloon. I’ll work on the officer deportment.”

  “The truth is, Faith,” Steve said, sighing. “It’s not that dressing you down feels like pulling the wings off a fly. The truth is that if things weren’t so absolutely fucked to hell, you’d be a shoe-in for the Medal of Honor. And that’s not just being your dad saying that. You are an absolute asset. A living embodiment of the best in us.”

  “Now you’re going all Da,” Faith said.

  “No,” Steve said. “I’m trying to judge this fairly. If you were a twenty-one-year-old second lieutenant straight out of the Point or Annapolis or ROTC, you’d still be somebody that people would follow into battle. And the way that you fight is just so over the top that every real warrior on this ship wants to have your babies.”

  “I think it’s supposed to be the other way around, Da,” Faith said, laughing and looking awkward. She handled praise about as well as she handled being dressed down.

  “You know what I mean,” Steve said. “All that is true. The other truth is that you have a lot to learn about all the other stuff in being an officer. And, believe it or not, I think that Wilkes can teach you that. And maybe, just maybe, you can teach him what actual leadership means. Sometimes when you’ve got two problems they can cancel themselves out. I’m hoping that’s what this experiment will achieve.”

  “I’ll do my best, Da.”

  “That’s my Shewolf.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Cause I’m a pilot

  I only care about me

  I don’t give a fuck if I bring your bird back

  Code 2 or code 3

  ‘Cause I’m a pilot

  And I never make mistakes

  I’ll take the credit if it ain’t broken

  I’ll blame you if it breaks

  Dos Gringo

  “I’m a Pilot”

  “Captain Wilkes,” Steve said, looking around the embarkation area. “How’s the clearance going?”

  After clearing the immediate area and cleaning up, a team under Janu had fought their way to DCC and brought back not only all the hardcopy maps but laptops that, huzzah, contained all the same information. The TOC was set up with several plasma screens connected to those as well as other computers brought aboard. It looked almost professional.

  As areas were cleared they were “greyed out” so they didn’t repeat. With four people clearing, that had not been an issue. With thirty Marines working on the boats it had happened.

  “Nominal, sir,” Wilkes said. “Would you care to examine the map?”

  “No,” Steve said. “Other things to do. How far are you into the ship?”

  “We’ve reached deck six and are proceeding upwards, sir,” Wilkes said. “There is a significant infected level throughout the ship. At least, according to reports… ”

  “Have you… ” Steve said, then stopped. “Can you turn this over to somebody, we need to have a chat.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wilkes said. “Gunny, come get me if anything comes up.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gunny Sands said.

  Steve gestured aft and Wilkes paused.

  “Sir, the infecteds have officially been cleared from these decks, however… ”

  “You’ve got an M4, right?” Steve said. “And I’ve got a pistol. That should be enough. As I said, we need to chat.”

  They walked back into the bowels of the ship and Steve opened up one of the hatches. The smell of rot was strong.

  “Been back here?” Steve asked, stepping over a bloating body. “Keep the hatch open. Decay uses up oxygen.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wilkes said.

  “But I think this is far enough,” Steve said. “I understand Faith had an incident last night?”

  “I thought it might be about that, sir,” Wilkes said. “I take it she complained to you?”

  “No,” Steve said. “Nor the Gunny nor any of the Marines. They know, even if Faith doesn’t, about not jumping the chain of command. On the other hand, we’re a mix of civilian and military. And while the military personnel have, in general, not spoken to me of it, I’ve been getting an earful from the civilian side. I was even told there wa
s some sort of message from this Zumwald character. And since I had a previously scheduled meeting with her, I counseled her on this indiscretion as well. Would you care to give me your version?”

  “Lieutenant Smith was asked by Mister Zumwald to get him a drink,” Wilkes said. “She responded with physical violence. I counseled her on conduct unbecoming of an officer and, when she reacted with foul language, on disrespect to a superior officer, sir, and I’ll stand by that position. Sir.”

  “I agree that her actions were unbecoming, Captain,” Steve said, mildly. “She really should have resolved it with less force. Which I told her as well as a strong lecture on respect to a superior officer. On the other hand, Captain, Mister Zumwald physically accosted her, grabbing her arm and, when she protested, called her a bitch. Were you aware of that, Captain?”

  “She did say something about it, sir,” Wilkes said. “However… ”

  “I also understand that you spent some time with Mister Zumwald afterwards,” Steve said. “Rather late. Did you at any time express to Mister Zumwald that accosting any woman, much less an officer of… what was it? ‘The United States Naval services’ was unacceptable behavior, Captain?”

  “Sir,” Wilkes said. “Mister Zumwald is a major Hollywood executive… ”

  “Was,” Steve said.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Wilkes said.

  “Was a major Hollywood executive,” Steve said. “Right now, Ernest Zumwald, Captain, is a fucking refugee off a fucking lifeboat. Period fucking dot. He’s given a few days grace, like most refugees, to get his headspace and timing back, then he can decide if he wants to help out or go in with the sick, lame and lazy. And in this case he’s a fucking refugee who thinks it’s acceptable to accost some unknown chick and tell him to get him a fucking drink. Grab her by the arm and, when she tells him to let go, become verbally abusive.

  “What makes the situation worse, Captain, is that the person he accosted was not just any passing young hotty but a Marine officer. He did not know that at the time; the Marine officer was dressed much like other women in the compartment. However, he does not have the right to grab any woman in my care by the fucking arm and order them to get him a fucking drink, Captain! Then, to make matters worse, following the incident, Captain, you spent the entire fucking evening getting drunk with a fucktard who had physically and verbally assaulted a female Marine officer! You dumbshit.”