by Purple Hazel
It was. Yes, B.J. realized it was about time someone did something about the matter, and knew Steinhart had been tormented about it for months. He needed to get the marijuana abusers away from any vital functions within the ship if he possibly could. This was just the opportunity he'd been looking for and B.J. now had a damn good solution for him to consider…
* * * *
It took about a month to pull it off. Steinhart and B.J. secretly mapped it out from start to finish. First, they scheduled a big meeting to announce ship reassignments, and some key promotions for several crewmembers. B.J. then worked behind the scenes talking it up to her pals onboard. She even did a little groundwork beforehand...just to get the crew excited about it. She spent a little time with her occasional playmates over in the Virch. Told them, “Hey I got some interesting news—if you can keep a little secret for a while that is,” knowing full well they’d blab about it within days, if not hours, to the other people they fooled around with.
She pretended to confide in them, “Well, ladies...I hear Captain’s gettin’ ready to give out some promotions and raises in pay grade to the crew. Any day now, I reckon. Stay tuned. I’ll let you know when it’s all going down, I promise.” Then she told them nothing else about it for the week leading up to the meeting. The rumor mill took over from there, and soon everyone was all atwitter about the upcoming announcements, filling in with speculation of their own in the absence of hard facts.
Meanwhile, she let Captain Stehter handle the difficult part that she assumed she’d better stay the hell away from. Namely, she left it up to “the boss” to have a little Schwatz—or chinwag as Shamiso called it—with the different section commanders. Not surprisingly he started with his favorite, most loyal, and dedicated crewman, LTJG Oswaldo Guerrero. Ozzie, he knew, could keep his mouth shut about what Steinhart was truly up to. He, if anyone, was someone the captain could trust. They met one day when Ozzie was off duty.
He didn’t pull any punches either. Got right to the point. Made everything abundantly clear! And Ozzie performed wonderfully, as expected. Good man, that Ozzie. He quickly recognized the gravity of the situation and understood he needed to keep the whole thing confidential.
“Guten Tag, Lieutenant Guerrero,” began the captain, when they met privately in the gym that day, “May I have a word with you, please?” The athletic center was as usual completely empty except for Ozzie pumping weights to keep himself in tip top shape. He’d been working the elliptical machine before that, and was bathed in sweat like some boxer training for an upcoming title bout.
Typical team player. At times, he seemed to be the only other man besides the captain himself who was still devoted to the mission. It wasn’t completely that way naturally. Others—in fact many of the fifty-three crewmembers were consummate professionals when on duty, and lived up to their reputations even when away from their posts. But Ozzie was all business all the time—unless he was alone with Shamiso that is and only then did he let his guard down a bit.
“Terribly sorry to disturb your fitness regimen, but I must approach this matter on an unofficial basis. Are we alone?” continued the captain. Clearly, they were, but Steinhart merely wanted Ozzie to grasp the seriousness of the conversation. He was about to confide something in the young Lieutenant that would have to remain private for the duration of the mission—and no one could know of what was discussed. Ozzie was quick to pick up on it, and grabbed a towel to wipe off his face.
As always, he answered bluntly and honestly, just the way a superior officer prefers it. Mincing words or giving vague answers would only make things more difficult. Ozzie had learned this from Lieutenant Kelvin years ago. Yes, he knew how to address a ship’s captain and had learned from the best.
“Yes, Captain Stehter,” he replied without hesitation. “We are. Couple was in here earlier but they finished their business and left. What can I do for you?” Steinhart chuckled a bit, wincing from the lingering stench. The room smelled a little bit like sweat and yet still had that familiar odor of fresh sex wafting about. Apparently, the young Lieutenant had merely ignored the copulation going on across the room and proceeded with his tough workout regimen. This also occurred to Steinhart and almost made him shake his head with amused disgust. Here was Ozzie simply “banging out reps” amidst all that potential distraction. What a go-getter.
Of course, ever since hearing about his brother back on Earth leading the Dallas Wranglers to a world championship (assuming “Ranger Guerrero” was indeed his twin sibling, Práxido, that is) he’d been pumping iron and developing his cardio strength. For what reason, he couldn’t really explain.
Maybe the old competitive rivalry between him and his brother had been revived. Maybe it was just because in a couple years he’d be greeting his brother in person for the first time in decades. He probably just wanted to look really “buff” before the big day of their emotional reunion. To be sure, if he sat around in space for many years in low gravity, his muscles would atrophy and he’d look like “a big pussy” as his brother used to say. That said, Steinhart wasn’t there to discuss such trivial things.
“I need to make some changes around here, and I’m in need of your input before I proceed,” added Steinhart. Ozzie toweled off to remove the sweat dripping from his jet-black hair, now running down his temples and neck. He then sponged it out of his eye sockets too, so he could refocus on the captain’s facial expressions. It all sounded serious, so he knew he’d better pull himself together and give his full attention. Captain Stehter paused for a few minutes to grab a nearby free weight bench used for “preacher curls” and dragged it over to where Ozzie was sitting.
“Who...I mean...what if I were to ask your advice on transferring one of your people—one of your staff that is—over to Hydroponic Garden Center? Replacing them with someone else of course so that you won’t be undermanned.” Steinhart then absent-mindedly scratched his chin for a moment where the skin was dried out and irritated from the effects of the cleaning dust used in the hygiene chambers.
“I have just the person in mind for you to replace him with,” he continued, “so don’t concern yourself...but I’m uncertain who I should move out of Pod Monitoring. Is there anyone you won’t...uh...miss too terribly, shall we say? Again, I must remind you this conversation is to remain confidential, verstehst du?”
Ozzie got the picture. Read his captain like a book. The rumors had certainly made it back to Pod Monitoring by now—that the captain was about to shake up the ship’s post assignments—but he never would have figured the captain would be seeking his input! He didn’t hesitate with his response though.
“Yes sir, Captain Stehter, I understand completely. And I know just who I’d like to see move on...to uh, greener pastures...if you don’t mind the expression."
Steinhart thought about it a moment, then connected the dots. Greener pastures. Like marijuana leaves growing in a garden. He got the joke finally, and for the first time ever in the presence of a junior officer, he laughed uproariously—with eyes bugged out, throwing his head back, and then reaching out to playfully slap the muscled Texan on the upper arm like two old cronies drinking together in some smoky old German Bierkeller. “Jah, das ist ja wirklich ganz toll! Good joke, Lieutenant!”
Ozzie nodded and grinned humbly. He'd gone a bit too far, but gotten away with cracking a joke around his captain when the man was clearly trying to be discrete.
“And who is this fine fellow that we are speaking of?” asked Steinhart, still chuckling and trying to compose himself. “Thank God we’re alone,” he could only muse to himself.
“Orem, sir. Ensign Orem. I’d miss him like a bad smell,” clarified Lieutenant Guerrero, “Just tell me where to sign off on it and I’d love to get that dope-head outa my section.” His directness amazed Captain Stehter. Such a mature and confident young man. Respectful and professional, yet brief and blunt. That’s really what he needed at this moment.
Then while Steinhart got his composure back—reali
zing suddenly that Ozzie was already two steps ahead of him and presumed that the captain was targeting marijuana users—Ozzie used the opportunity to see who Captain Stehter would be replacing the guy with. He basically knew the answer before Steinhart even said it...but he just couldn’t wait to find out officially.
“Can you tell me who we’re gonna be gettin’ Sir?” asked Lieutenant Guerrero politely, now draping the towel around his sweaty neck. Steinhart was too much the polished professional for that sort of a slip-up though. Not needing Guerrero’s further input on the matter, he simply shook his head patiently.
“Oh, I’m sure you'll be pleased with my choice. Rest easy my good man. And by the way...keep up the fine work you’re doing. You’re continuing to serve this ship well and it is not going unnoticed...nor ignored in my reports. Look forward to a nice long career with Space Programme when we return to Earth, Lieutenant...if you so desire it, that is.”
He most certainly did! After that Captain Stehter stood up to leave and Ozzie snapped to attention with his arms stiff to his sides. He saluted his captain and replied, “Very good sir! Danke schön.” Steinhart saluted him back and answered in customary German, “Bitte. Carry on Lieutenant.” And that was that…
The next day Captain Stehter addressed the whole crew and announced his new post assignments. Young-Min Jo was reassigned to Matter Pod Monitoring and Gary “Kinkorama” Orem joined the “Garden Geeks” in the Hydroponic Center.
Problem solved.
Chapter 21
Missing Link
It was not long after that when the brilliance of this shake-up of the ship’s post assignments paid off for Captain Stehter and the crew of Santa Maria. True, it was quite an inauspicious turn of events, when Steinhart—and Ozzie Guerrero—realized this. But the move to bring Young-Min Jo onto the Matter Pod Monitoring team ended up being a very wise decision, for the bright young man ended up identifying a newer, even bigger threat that could have easily gone unnoticed if it hadn’t been for his keen eye for details. Ozzie was off-duty when it occurred. He could only thank God later that he’d had his old friend supervising the team in his absence.
Non-baryonic matter pods had been jettisoned from the Santa Maria in intervals during the Away Team’s journey to Kapteyn B. Absolutely no one expected anything less than those diesel-engine-sized containers to float in space undisturbed for decades without needing to be replaced or even requiring maintenance. There weren’t too many chances of them moving or being moved, save for a random space anomaly that might knock them out of place. Not impossible of course, but highly improbable, scientists theorized back at Space Programme.
Unfortunately for Santa Maria—and for that matter the unsuspecting crew and captain of the approaching Nautilus—such an improbable event did indeed occur, or at least apparently had occurred, and when detected there was absolutely nothing anyone could do about it. It was far too late by then.
For it was during one fateful duty shift while Young-Min Jo was supervising the Monitoring Team that the young Lieutenant noticed that very thing: one, and quite possibly a second Matter Pod were clearly out of place. What’s more one of them had completely vanished. He spent nearly an Earth hour scouring the screen in panic before he finally had to conclude, regardless of how it sickened him to his very core, that at least one was “missing” from the long string of these devices trailing all the way back to Earth. To make matters worse, it was less than half a year’s journey remaining to their rendezvous point with Nautilus!
The implications of this new disaster almost made him vomit. He paged the captain in sheer panic, trying as hard as he could not to alert too many of the crew as to what had happened—as well as how terrified he was at the implications.
“Captain Stehter to the Matter Pod section,” he nervously broadcast on the ship’s intercom. “Urgent. This is Lieutenant Jo. Please come to Matter Pod immediately. Captain Stehter...please come quickly. Over.” Fortunately, Captain Stehter and B.J. were just getting ready to enter “the Virch” for a little playtime. He froze dead in his tracks immediately. An urgent call from Pod Monitoring? Such a thing had never happened before.
It surprised him—then a surge of icy fear ran through his veins. It electrified him like a pair of jumper cables sparking on an old car battery. He got a pit in his stomach for a moment, then sprinted over to an intercom transmitter on a wall across the VRC’s lobby area, bounding over a few people waiting their turn for a session. Didn’t even bother to reassure anyone around him, either. This sounded like a real emergency and there was no time for politeness or pleasantries.
“Captain Stehter, here. I’ll be there straight away. Stand by, please,” he uttered breathlessly into the microphone. Within ten minutes he’d rushed across the big ship to Young-Min’s post...and by the time he’d arrived, Young-Min was in sheer panic. Ozzie Guerrero had been dining with Shamiso in the mess hall right about that same time. He’d also heard the page and sensed it was something big. He arrived only a few minutes after the captain.
“Report, Lieutenant!” exclaimed the captain excitedly. He could only hope it wasn’t terrible news—yet he could see in his young officer’s eyes that the situation was dire. His shoulders slumped as he stood anxiously, gasping from the half kilometer-long run through ship corridors and hallways to get to Young-Min’s section. Yes, it was as bad as he possibly could have envisioned. He was still panting when Lieutenant Guerrero got there minutes later.
Matter pods had been strategically placed, spaced apart every one quarter of a light year. A light year is roughly 9 trillion, 460 billion, 730 million, 472 thousand, 580 kilometers long. This meant every 2.365 trillion kilometers, give or take, the Santa Maria’s Away Team had been launching the devices on the way to Kapteyn B. For one relatively tiny matter pod, given the immensity of space, to be knocked out of place, the chances were slim to none that something could manage to impact it.
That two pods could actually be out of place was considered preposterous, but it almost seemed to Young-Min Jo that this had somehow happened. It literally boggled the mind. One was surely gone though, and there was no way of identifying either which direction it had gone or whether it was even functioning. Whatever had banged into it, the force had most certainly swept it away and it would likely never be found.
This could only lead to two possible conclusions: either the pod had been destroyed or the pod had been carried away by interstellar debris and was still functioning. Between the two alternatives, the three officers standing in a group of confused and also quite anxious crewmembers could only hope it was the previous.
For example, if the pod had been demolished by a hurtling comet, meteoroid, asteroid, or whatever else might be streaking through space years before (after they’d passed through the area toward Planet “B”) then Nautilus would simply come out of her disrupted warp bubble to find she was in the middle of deep space with only auxiliary power to propel her. If this happened, she would then have to travel at one tenth light speed, and arrive at the next matter pod in about two and a half years.
Only then could the crew reactivate her ADM drive, program a new destination into her ship’s computer and continue on toward a new rendezvous point. Steinhart knew of the giant ship’s capabilities because he’d studied its auxiliary propulsion system three and a half years earlier when the Santa Maria had secured the message pod from Space Programme in Kapteyn B’s orbit.
The other alternative was almost unthinkable, and the captain quickly quashed any further discussion of it. What if the matter pod was still active? Could it have been flung or carried by some unknown object many millions of kilometers away from the original pod line and still be functional? If so, the consequences would then be catastrophic—for not just the Nautilus, but the Santa Maria as well. If that happened, the Nautilus may very well unknowingly divert its course and end up way out in unknown space with no idea where it was, nor how to get back home.
Cruising at nowhere near the speed of Santa Maria at t
hat point, using nothing but its auxiliary propulsion system, the Nautilus could spend several years in space puttering along toward Earth, desperately attempting to reacquire its trail of nonbaryonic matter conversion devices...and only God in His great mercy could save them from a very long and dangerous journey home. As a result, the Santa Maria might spend the remaining ten Earth years in space never knowing where Nautilus was nor if it ever made it back. At that point, no one could have the slightest inkling who would make it home first.
Captain Stehter finally had to sit down on one of the crewmen’s chairs and heave a long sigh of frustration. Ozzie stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Young-Min Jo began to weep. Several of the others on the team did so as well, with one of the women having to excuse herself from the area she was so terribly overcome. This was truly the worst predicament that any one of them could have perceived finding themselves in. Worst of all, no one ever dreamed it could happen—even though that’s precisely what the Pod Monitoring Team was there for: to detect any disruptions in the pod line.
They’d done their job, oh yes. No question of that; and if it hadn’t been for Lieutenant Jo quickly detecting the missing link, Santa Maria’s crew would have never figured out why Nautilus was not waiting for them in a few months when she reached the original link-up location. What’s more –and Captain Stehter was quick to note this—Lieutenant Jo may very well have saved the Nautilus as well. Thinking fast, Captain Stehter flew into action, bravely barking orders like a World War II German Kommandant.
“You, you, and...you, follow me to the cargo bay! Now! Mach schnell! He was looking at both Young-Min and Ozzie Guerrero initially, but then noticed B.J. had since arrived, her face pale with terror and sweating profusely. He knew if he was going to save the Nautilus, he’d need to get a message out to her captain and crew immediately. He also knew he needed his best, most trusted officers with him at this critical moment.
