Starfarer's Dream (Kinsella Universe Book 4)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  “Aye, aye, sir.” The admiral leaped to his feet, staggered, and by main force of will forced himself out the door, trailed by two acolytes, both rear admirals.

  Duncan cleared his throat. “I know I’m an old geezer to most of you; a relic from times long gone. I’m not stupid, though. The Rome is out there, even now. She’s not in her patrol area yet, though. Rome has fifteen thousand of our best and the brightest in the Fleet aboard her. If this is right, we need to get the tech bulletin to them, ahead of anything else. They will be terribly exposed out there, but with this knowledge they will have a far greater chance of survival.”

  “Admiral Koslov?” the admiral at the end of the table asked his deputy for operations.

  “It will be difficult; I’m not sure we can reach her before she reaches her patrol area. Three corvettes, I’d say, aimed first at Adobe, and if she’s already gone, then to one of the pre-arranged meet points. Admiral, it might be six or more months.”

  “Admiral Cloud is correct. Those corvettes will go out as soon as we have a preliminary report from Admiral David as to whether or not the speculation of Lieutenant Booth is correct.”

  The admiral looked around the table. “All of us know engineers and sensor officers. All of them, on hearing this, are going to want to blame themselves, personally. That isn’t going to happen, do you hear? This was a collective oversight; with not a single Fleet Aloft officer who has sensor, engineering or bridge watchkeeping certificates not equally culpable. Don’t let it happen.”

  “Admiral Nagoya, may I have a word?” Dennis Booth asked.

  “Of course, Admiral Booth.”

  “Lieutenant Booth, you have done well. But aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else about now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t think that either the admiral in command of your new ship, or her captain, are going to be happy with the excuse ‘Duncan Cloud ate up my homework.’”

  There were titters of nervous laughter around the room.

  Admiral Booth turned to Admiral Nagoya. “My daughter is assigned into Black Rock, which was supposed to depart shortly on that particular mission, Admiral.”

  Admiral Cloud spoke to Bethany. “Do you have a written report with the other points you talked about with me, Lieutenant?”

  “Aye, Admiral, except the one major point.”

  “I do think that one will not be soon forgotten,” Admiral Cloud told her.

  Once again there were bitter laughs around the room. “Turn in your report, Lieutenant, to Lieutenant Raeder on your way out. I wouldn’t be surprised, if I were you, to find yourself back here soon, doing more analysis.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Bethany saluted him.

  She allowed herself to be led outside, when a Fleet Marine sergeant waited for her. “Lieutenant Booth?”

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “I am a qualified jitney pilot and I’ve been ordered to deliver you to the Black Rock in the most expeditious fashion possible, giving due consideration to flight safety rules. I hope you haven’t had much to eat.”

  “I’m never sick under acceleration, Sergeant.”

  “Aye, aye, then, Lieutenant. Let's make it happen.”

  She could still make the claim about not being ill under acceleration after he delivered her aboard Black Rock, but she couldn’t hide the pallor of her cheeks. She didn’t think she could have held out, if he ignored even one more flight safety rule, although she couldn't think of one he hadn't violated.

  She wasn’t sure what she should do about reporting aboard. So, since she was a nominal department head, she decided that she would find the Exec and report to him. Of course, that didn’t work out; he was speaking with the captain.

  “Sophie Heisenberg, Lieutenant,” the pretty blonde woman with the wavy stripe on her sleeve told Bethany.

  “Lieutenant Bethany Booth, Captain. I was delayed in route.”

  “For which we are still receiving an incredibly long message. Not to worry, a few minutes ago Fleet grounded all ships in the Solar System. Was that you, too?”

  Bethany grimaced. “I think so, Captain.”

  “Well, not many people can put the entire Fleet on the ground, Lieutenant. I hope it was worth it.”

  “If I’m right, it will be a very good thing, Captain.”

  “Needless to say, Admiral Ibn Saud isn’t happy.”

  “No, Captain, I don’t imagine he is. But this is important and affects the safety of all ships.”

  “Admiral Nagoya mentioned that a few times in the executive summary at the start of the message. Admiral Fletcher did as well, although I’m at a loss to explain the ‘Admiral Duncan Cloud ate up your homework,’ comment from Admiral Fletcher.”

  “It’s a joke, Captain.”

  “You’re standing in front of me, telling me that the admiral commanding the Fleet he just put on the ground is making a joke, while all of his ships are parked?”

  “Admiral Fletcher has an odd sense of humor, Captain.” She didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention that this wasn’t the first time she’d noticed that about Admiral Fletcher and that the joke had really been her father’s.

  “I don’t like it. I don’t like dirty-foot Porties messing with my crew. I understand you have served with my chief engineer, lieutenant.”

  “I know only one chief engineer, Captain, and I don’t think it would be accurate to say that I’ve served with him. We were in the same ship is all.”

  The woman laughed at her. “You were with him from New Texas to New Helgoland, and then New Helgoland to Earth. Lieutenant Commander Terry Morrison.”

  Bethany had opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut. “Yes, Captain, I have served with him.”

  “Did you know what some damned Portie captain did to him on the bridge watchkeeping exam?” Bethany looked at Captain Heisenberg. Captain Heisenberg seemed genuinely exercised.

  “Lieutenant Commander Morrison had a perfect set of maxes on his watchkeeping certificate exams. Except for the last. Port Captain Simmonds deducted two hundredths of a point because Commander Morrison didn’t know the number of the morning report form aboard a Fleet vessel.”

  “There’s a form number?” Bethany asked, trying to remember it herself. She couldn’t.

  “Of course there’s no form number! It’s not a damn form! It’s electronic! The department heads enter their numbers and it’s consolidated for the ship’s captain. That stupid Portie ruined the man’s perfect maxes over a factoid that doesn’t exist! Nothing says it better than what happened to Simmonds afterward.”

  “What happened to him?” Bethany asked cautiously.

  “Admiral Fletcher said it was quite correct to deduct points for not knowing how to file morning reports about a Fleet vessel aloft; he said it was a very important task, one that many don’t take seriously. He has given Captain Simmonds the duty of gathering the daily reports from the Fleet, collating them, and forwarding them to Admiral Booth. If reports arrive from a ship that has been off station for a time, he is to amend all intervening daily reports for the Fleet and forward them to Admiral Booth as well. Admiral Booth has an ensign who acknowledges each and every one; that ensign’s offense was that she was insolent to the Chief of her Ship.

  Bethany nodded. Her father also had a strange sense of humor. Maybe, she thought, it was a feature of senior officers and that when she was an admiral, she’d understand.

  “I am ready for any task that you give me, Captain.”

  “Admiral Ibn Saud asked for you in particular, Lieutenant. I’m still trying to wrap my head around why we are grounded. It was something you did, you say?”

  “I realized something important, Captain.”

  “Do you know that I am supposed to take a tranquilizer, as administered by the ship’s doctor, before reading the details? That I am to inform the chief engineer with only the doctor present? That the chief engineer may not inform his officers of the contents, unless medical personnel are present
?”

  “Captain, I saw a three-star admiral throw everything in front of him, including his comp, including the comp of another admiral, against the conference room wall when Admiral Cloud finished speaking.”

  “Lieutenant, I know you’re not stupid. Do you know the most important rule for a junior officer, aboard a ship?”

  “I’ve heard any number, Captain.”

  “Don’t be pert, Lieutenant. They all are variations on the same thing -- you do not ever want to let your captain be surprised by a report from someone else about something you’ve done, or something you know. What do you know, Lieutenant?”

  Bethany thought about it, and then told her, even if the doctor wasn’t around. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t within a hundred and twenty meters.

  The captain’s face was white when Bethany finished. “Lieutenant, I was aware that I, my sister and our former chief engineers were mentioned in the dispatch. This is going to kill my friend who was once my chief engineer; it will totally and utterly devastate him. I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure but what Irina is going to be violently upset herself. She always has fancied herself better at technical subjects than I am.”

  She picked up her phone. “Admiral, Captain Heisenberg. You need to come to the conference room; this is about the grounding.” A few moments later she had called the ship’s doctor and Terry Morrison to come as well.

  It was startling. Captain Heisenberg presented Admiral Ibn Saud with the single sheet summary, plus a hasty report of the first experiments on a second sheet. He read the data on the first page without comment, until he was done. Then he neatly arranged the pages in front of them and bowed, his forehead touching them, his forehead flat against the table.

  When he finally lifted his head, he looked at Captain Heisenberg. “Who found this?”

  She nodded at Bethany.

  “You, Lieutenant?” he admiral asked.

  “Sir, Admiral Cloud was talking about jogging ideas about how the alien’s detect ships on High Fan. This jogged.”

  He nodded, his face pale.

  Terry Morrison spoke up. “I take it that this is a subject in my bailiwick?”

  “Yes, Commander,” Admiral Ibn Saud told him. “Perhaps...” he stopped talking for a moment, before he could continue.

  “I can’t help thinking about this, and my thoughts are terrible nightmares. What if we’d known this before the war? Might the war not have started at all? Surely more people would be alive today if we’d have known...”

  “Known what, Admiral?” Terry asked, now very curious.

  Captain Heisenberg turned to the doctor. “You are prepared as I requested?”

  “Yes, but I have no idea why. This is absurd, Captain.”

  Admiral Ibn Saud laughed. “Indeed, you have no idea, doctor. Not even a tiny one. If I absolutely had to, I suppose I could stand up just now. I doubt if I could walk more than one or two steps. My pulse is fast, I’m in mild shock and if my emotions hadn’t been tightly controlled all my life I’d be screaming in rage just now at might-have-beens.

  “Captain Heisenberg, you will give the summary to Commander Morrison. Let us see what sort of a man he is.”

  Captain Heisenberg slid the two pages, the second still unread, over to Terry. Terry read it and then read the second page without speaking. He put the two pages down and looked at Admiral Ibn Saud.

  “When I was younger, Admiral, my father told me that it was the propulsion engineers who gathered all the glory. That there was nothing glamorous or glorious about power engineering. I had thought that was a truism, sir. Today I am thanking my lucky stars that I’m in power, not propulsion. You’re expecting adverse reactions?”

  “That’s Fleet Aloft’s thesis, Commander,” Captain Heisenberg told him.

  Terry sighed. “Probably. I mean, if this was my life’s work and I’d missed something this obvious, I think I’d go crazy. This isn’t going to be good, Captain.”

  “I know it is on short acquaintance, Commander,” Ibn Saud told Terry, “but do you think this would be better delivered to all of your people at once, or one at a manageable time?”

  “All at once, sir. With others present, they will look to each other for support, for guidance. They will take consolation that there are others standing with them. It could make all the difference, Admiral.”

  “Commander, you have to know that people like myself and Captain Heisenberg thought Fleet was insane. First for promoting you like they did, and then for putting you here. In spite of that, even in a day, you have organized the engineering department so that not only is it functional, but it is in all respects ready to lift. These last few moments confirm my impression that you understand the many facets of command; my honor, Commander.”

  Bethany had seen Admiral Fletcher say that to Willow Wolf, and had heard from others that he wasn’t the first by a long shot. To see as hard an admiral as Admiral Ibn Saud was, honoring Terry Morrison was confusing and frustrating. At least Captain Heisenberg didn’t kiss him. Of course, maybe that wasn’t what she thought.

  Captain Heisenberg was gruff. “You read the second page?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Go to your department; get enlisted personnel to work on it. Make it happen. It’s my feeling that if we report a working device, we’ll be permitted to lift.”

  Bethany stood still, wishing for orders, any orders. Something bold and dynamic! She mentally cursed having let David Zinder run the sim against her father. Even if she knew she’d have never once thought to do it right out of the gate! There was no doubt about it -- David had surprised her father. Had she ever surprised her father? She had a sick feeling that perhaps she’d surprised him there in the conference room at Fleet HQ and that was it. And he had been disparaging and gotten her out of there and back to her ship as fast as he could. Was that a sign of lack of faith? Probably.

  “Lieutenant Booth,” her admiral spoke. She looked at him, hoping for something. “I understand that you presented Admiral Duncan Cloud with some intelligence and operational analysis of our enemies. I’d appreciate a copy of that as soon as possible. Copy Captain Heisenberg as well.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral,” she told him.

  Copy reports... what a great victory you’ve had, Bethany! Her father had been right! The high point of her life had been convincing her little brother that he could travel much faster in a boarding tube without his clothes. The only thing that had saved her from worse punishment that time was that her brother hadn’t realized that she was serious when she told him that if he went pee while going down the boarding tube, it would add to his velocity vector. He’d laughed and said he didn’t think people would like it if he’d peed in a boarding tube.

  Suddenly she felt a cold draft down her back. How many times had she told other people “everything is a test!” And now, she was in the Fleet; her heart’s desire. Thinking back, she played back her father’s words at that meeting in her mind. In all of her experience with her father, she had never, ever, heard him make a joke at someone else’s expense.

  No one was going to object to it, because it was metaphorically true, which was what made it such a good joke. Except her father was sensitive, as all Rim Runners were, about jokes that could be taken personally. He had, at least in her presence, always assiduously avoided them.

  Her father was angry with her. With sick, cold certainty, she knew what he was angry about. He thought she was trying to get out of her deployment aboard Black Rock; showing how valuable she was at analysis and discovering the terrible secret of detecting ships on High Fan so that she could avoid her duty. That sergeant who had been there when she left the room -- he had been ordered there, and had to have been ordered by her father. In the two or three minutes before she left the room.

  Her father had all but ordered her to report to her ship at once or be cashiered. Except, since the war had started, they didn’t cashier officers who were screw-ups -- they shot them. If he’d demanded she report to B
lack Rock at once while she was still there, she might well have faced one of those Special Boards, requested by some Portie moron like the one who’d messed up Terry Morrison’s string of maxes.

  She laughed at that. That officer had a real surprise in store for him. The story would get around that he’d ruined the ultimate accolade in the Fleet -- a watchkeeping max: Propulsion, Power, Navigation, and Bridge watchkeeping. For all intents and purposes, people were going to treat Terry as if he had maxed all of those tests. And they were going to treat that officer who’d spoiled it like you’d treat your drooling idiot of a brother.

  The intercom popped. “This is Captain Heisenberg. Officer’s call in the conference room in fifteen minutes, 1600 Zulu.”

  Bethany wondered if she should send her father a personal message telling him she had never had any intention of missing her deployment. She sniffed. If he was so smart -- let him figure it out!

  * * *

  The conference room had a dozen officers in it, even before Bethany arrived. She grimaced in disgust; she was earlier than the announced start time, but she was later than everyone else. She didn’t think that was going to be a feather in her cap. She’d done the same thing to David Zinder and had laughed at his naiveté. Now, it was her turn. It sucked.

  Captain Heisenberg stood at the foot of the conference table and introduced herself. “I commanded Donner, a frigate. We went to Snow Dance, my sister in Blitzen and I, to try to save the colony there. We left Earth two days after we knew we were at war. We were told that we were under the command of Vice Admiral Charles Gull, who was already en route. Only later did we find out he was aboard a ship you may have heard of: Nihon. I do not think there has ever been such a small ship in the Fleet who has had such distinguished commanders back-to-back. Admiral Ito Saito and then Admiral Charles Gull.