‘I don’t deserve it,’ Mako heard him say, ‘please, just put me in the cacker.’
Mako was impressed by the skill with which Hali responded to that, with the perfect blend of authority, reassurance, and humour.
‘Now, don’t you start getting stroppy,’ she told him, though anything less stroppy than the wretched man would have been hard to imagine. ‘Just do as you’re told.’ It was clearly a joke, but also established that she was the one calling the shots. ‘Stow your kit and come have a coffee.’
The coffee was clearly a pivotal moment, as the parolee closed his eyes, savouring it.
‘Oh, that’s good,’ he said, and Hali Burdon grinned agreement.
‘Have as much as you want,’ she assured him, and as he looked enquiringly at her, told him, ‘The skipper gave us extra supplies privilege for coming out top in our class. We’ve enough coffee on board for a frigate to drink themselves sick, so just help yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. But he was glancing uneasily in the LPA inspector’s direction. Mako was keeping his distance, not wanting to add to the stress the parolees were going through by being in their faces. He was, by then, having a chat with a couple of crew who were on watch-break.
‘Don’t mind Mr Ireson,’ Hali told the newcomer, and Mako saw her give a murmured comment and grin which he guessed, correctly, was along the lines of ‘Harmless, but a bit dim.’
Mako couldn’t argue with that, really, as he felt himself to be wholly incompetent in this environment.
Still, at least they were friendly, which was a great comfort. They were friendly to the point, indeed, where he was feeling rather bombarded by all the people eager to give him information. He wouldn’t have minded, really, retreating to the wardroom for a while to go through his notes and catch up with himself. A crewman was currently standing outside the wardroom door, however, minding the Higgs baby and ensuring that nobody went in.
It was not difficult to guess what a married couple might want privacy for when they had been parted for several months and were about to be parted again, and Mako would not have disturbed them anyway. It did mean, though, that his options at the moment seemed limited to either sitting on the command deck, which he still felt rather shy about, or on the mess deck, where everyone who even came walking through seemed to feel the need to come and talk to him.
He found out why that was from seeing the Second Lt, Martine Fishe come onto the mess deck. She was looking for PO Barrington, who was assigned to her watch. Having welcomed him, she asked if she might impose, and at a friendly smile from Hali Burdon, helped herself to a mug of coffee and sat down at the table with them.
‘Is that usual?’ The inspector was trying to get to grips with the rules and protocols here. ‘I mean, officers having coffee here?’
The crewman he was talking to gave the slight double take and broad grin that Mako was coming to recognise as a sign that he had just asked something crashingly dumb.
‘Sure,’ the crewman told him. ‘Though only at the semis, of course.’ He spoke as if he expected the inspector to know what he was talking about, but seeing that he didn’t explained. ‘Those tables, see, they’re twos and fours.’
‘Er..?’ Mako had noticed that there were smaller tables at one end of the mess deck without realising that there was any significance to that.
‘They’re where you sit,’ the crewman explained, in terms adapted for civilian understanding, ‘if you want to work, have a private conversation, or just be left to yourself for a bit. People won’t disturb you, if you’re sitting there, but here, see,’ he indicated the four eight-seater tables which occupied most of the deck space in the mess, ‘these are the social tables. Officers wouldn’t come and sit here and they tend not to take any notice of things they may hear if it’s being said at these tables. It’s our informal social space, see. But if they want to talk to you about something that’s not so confidential you need to go to the skipper’s office or the wardroom, they’ll use those tables. And they might have a coffee, sometimes, sure, that’s no big deal.’
‘And is that the same on all Fleet ships?’ Mako queried, at which his informant grinned again.
‘Sure,’ he repeated, patiently. ‘Unless it’s a very big ship like a carrier. Most Fleet ships are like this, everyone on top of one another. And when there’s no physical privacy, see, you have to create it socially, so all ships have some kind of rules-relaxed talking area and a quiet zone.’
‘Ah, right.’ Enlightenment dawned as he realised that people had been coming up to him to chat because he’d been sitting at a social table, unwittingly inviting them to do so. ‘And ‘semis’,’ he hazarded, ‘for ‘semi-official’?’
The crewman managed not to laugh. ‘No, ‘semis’ because they’re half tables,’ he said. ‘The two-seaters are hemi-tables, really, but we just say ‘semis’ for small tables in the Fleet.’
Mako thanked him and made another note, feeling a twinge of apprehension at the realisation that he was almost going to have to learn a new language in adjusting to life here. He had, however, learned quite a bit already, as he realised when calling his boss some time later. Now relocated to a two-seater table, he found that people left him alone. He was able to sort out his notes and complete a preliminary assessment that he called his boss to send in person. She was impressed by his progress in such a short amount of time, and relieved too to be told that he was being made very welcome.
‘It’s been insane, here,’ she told him. The LPA had issued a media statement overnight confirming that they were sending an inspector aboard at the invitation of the Fleet. They had been bracing themselves to be bombarded by calls but that had not been the half of it. ‘The media’s taken over the car park, and we’ve had the police here dealing with demonstrators. The receptionist had hysterics and is refusing to come out of the lavatories and we’re having to lay on a security bus to get staff on and off the premises. I can only imagine how stressed the atmosphere must be there.’
Mako looked around. Three crewmembers on a break were eating toast at one of the social tables and talking about a ball game while Hali Burdon was chatting easily to Ty Barrington about Fleet news and gossip. From the command deck above came the sound of Lt Fishe, now holding the watch, having a conversation about the rival merits of frosted lemon versus walnut cake.
‘You would be amazed,’ he said, breaking into a grin, ‘at the total absence of stress on this ship. It’s as if somehow to them all that is just happening…’ he gestured to indicate something remote and unimportant, ‘over there somewhere.’
‘Lucky them!’ Said his boss, feelingly. ‘Honestly, I’ve just never seen anything like it. It’s like everyone has gone berserk, and it just doesn’t matter what you say, what facts and evidence you put out there, either they don’t believe it or they twist it to fit their own agendas and just yell and rant even more. And they have, I’m afraid, homed in on you personally. Many of them are now saying that you are part of a massive government conspiracy to cover up what the Fleet is doing there, and there is, as I dare say you’ve seen, extensive coverage about you in the media.’
Mako was startled. ‘I haven’t been watching it,’ he admitted. ‘There’s been a lot to get to grips with here, finding my way around and talking to people. What are they saying about me, then?’
‘I haven’t been able to watch it myself, in any detail.’ His boss admitted. ‘Been rather too busy dealing with the crisis, here. But they’re giving a lot of airtime to the ranters accusing you of cover up. They keep playing the footage they got of you going through the spaceport, this morning, too, that just seems to be on some kind of loop.’
‘Good grief,’ said Mako, astounded, and then, immediately concerned about his family, ‘they haven’t been hounding Inda and the children, have they?’
‘No – those Protection of Privacy Orders the Fleet advised us to get seem to be doing the job,’ she assured him. ‘And I did call Inda, earlier, just to make sure she�
�s okay. She says Pia thinks its very exciting, seeing you on the news, and Arcus, I gather, is scoring major cool points on campus.’
‘Oh, well,’ Mako looked relieved, ‘that’s all right then. And you did warn me that it would be a high profile assignment.’
She goggled at him. ‘What have they got you on there, some kind of chill-out juice?’ She queried, which made him laugh, picking up his mug and toasting her with it. There were no green rings on these tables. He’d already learned that mess deck tables were safe-surface, effectively all green ring, with independent power units and grav-panels built in underneath them. ‘Best aloba,’ he said, which made her laugh, too, knowing what a coffeeholic he was.
‘Very civilised,’ she observed. ‘And is the food okay?’
‘Fine,’ he said. Lunch had not been anything he felt they needed to apologise for. It was prepacks, of course, but of good quality and with a choice on the menu. There were snacks available between meals too, so he wouldn’t be going hungry.
‘And you’re all right, there?’ She was trying to be casual about it but he could see that she was concerned. ‘Where are you, now? In sickbay?’
He grinned at that, too. The comp they had given him would not allow him to show any background to where he was in case classified tech was visible in the shot, so it imposed a bland background in neutral beige. For the same reason, it blocked out all sound other than his voice, in case classified matters were being discussed within range of the microphone.
‘No. They did offer the bunk in sickbay but Dr Tekawa offered me his quarters in the wardroom instead if I preferred. It’s more convenient for both of us so that’s what we’ve done. I’m on the mess deck at the moment, though.’
‘But you have your own cabin?’ She queried. That had been a concern of hers, wanting to be assured that the inspector she sent in there would be accommodated to an acceptable standard.
‘Well, a cubby,’ he qualified. ‘It’s just a bunk, lockers and shared use of a shower. But that is the standard of accommodation all the officers have. Even the skipper’s cabin is half the size of our stationery cupboard, and is used as an office by all the other officers too. So they couldn’t have done any better by me, really.’
‘Oh, dear!’ She looked dismayed. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right, there, Mako?’
‘Well, if I’m not, it won’t be the fault of anybody here,’ he said, amused, but sincere, too. ‘I’ve never been made more welcome anywhere. Everyone from the skipper to the most junior rating is looking after me and doing their best to make me comfortable. It’s apparent that they do find my civilian incompetence amusing, but they’re being nice about it. And I can, at least, now tell port from starboard and aft from for’ard. It is, I feel, going to be a steep learning curve, but I knew that, really, when I agreed to coming along, and I have a feeling that it’s going to be as personally enriching as it is professionally exciting, too, so don’t even think about pulling me out, please.’
‘Well, all right, if you’re sure,’ she said, looking betrayingly relieved. It would be a public relations nightmare if he left the ship now and both of them knew it, though she would support him in doing that if he felt that it wasn’t safe there, or that conditions would be intolerable. ‘But you will be careful, there, won’t you?’
He assured her that he would and after a few more minutes’ conversation, ended that call and called his wife. His daughter Pia was there, too, long since home from high school since they were two hours ahead of the time aboard ship. She was indeed very excited, shrieking at her father, ‘Dad, you’re on the news!’ and it was some time before he had reassured her and was able to talk to his wife. She was fine, only concerned for his welfare as he was for hers and their children. Though their elder ‘child’, Arcus, was grown up now, at seventeen.
He was attending one of the many colleges of Chartsey System University, on the far side of the world from the family home. He was living in dorm accommodation there, which Mako often suspected was the real point of university as far as his son was concerned. That, and enthusiastic experimenting to find out just how much cheap beer the human body could hold. He was tiresomely frivolous when his mother joined him in on the call. It was very early in the morning where he was but he had not, as he informed his father, been to bed yet, as he and some mates had been watching the coverage all night.
‘And hey, who knew?’ he teased his father. ‘My Dad is not only a lackey of the imperialist state, he’s the evil mastermind constructing a massive government cover up of top secret operations using prisoners on suicide missions. Why didn’t you tell me your job was that interesting, Dad?’
By the time he had ended that call, Mako was in no doubt that his children were just fine, basking in the glory of their Dad being involved in something so thrilling. He was reassured too that his wife, as always, was coping placidly with everything that life threw at her.
He was coping rather less well with it himself when he’d finished talking to his family and spent a few minutes reviewing what had been going out on the media. It gave him a strange feeling to see the footage of himself making his way through the spaceport, escorted by a cordon of spaceport security and surrounded by a barrage of cameras.
At the time he’d only been aware of the need to get across the concourse with dignity amidst the glaring lights and frantically shouting voices, saying ‘no comment’ a couple of times. He was surprised to see just how stiff and coldly formal he came across on camera.
That was not the worst of it, though. He discovered to his horror that his son had not been being as facetious as he had assumed. They hadn’t used the word ‘evil’ but other than that, Arcus had the essence of what various groups were saying.
Mako found himself feeling really upset and offended by that, and was obliged to remind himself that he had been called a lot worse, often to his face, during many a prison inspection. He was definitely feeling more stressed after that, though. He was starting to look forward to the launch, himself, just to get away from all that and be able to focus on what he was here to do.
The launch, in fact, as he was also coming to appreciate, was actually under way already. It was a process that took hours. Most of it had been invisible to him, activity that made no sense, but as time went on, he saw how things geared up step by step. For about half an hour, pretty much all of the crew seemed to be engaged in using devices that cleaned and buffed up surfaces to a high degree of shine. Once the mess deck was shining to their satisfaction, Mako was politely requested not to use the tables until Mr Burroughs had done ‘rounds’. This was a process that in which he walked about the ship with a hand-held scanner, complimenting the crew on the fine job they’d done.
There was also a point at which an order was given of ‘visitors away’, at which Alica Higgs and her baby were seen off at the airlock by Jace Higgs and Buzz Burroughs. It was an emotional parting, of course, but handled with sympathetic professionalism by Buzz. He didn’t rush her off the ship but nor did he let things linger painfully. The Fleet knew how to do this kind of thing so that partings were pangs rather than agonies. Alica Higgs was a Fleet partner, too, accustomed to accepting that duty took priority over family life. She also seemed to be in full agreement with them that the best place for her husband to be right now was ‘out there’, away from all the madness.
It was interesting, Mako felt, that she had not expressed resentment at the Fleet taking her husband away, but only regret that she and the baby could not go with him. She was assuring him as they left that they would be fine, and Buzz Burroughs reassured him of that, too, once the airlock had closed.
‘Jone will look after them,’ he told the crewman, with a comforting hand on his shoulder.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Jace sounded a bit choked but managed a smile, for which Buzz gave him a nod of approval.
‘All right,’ he said, and gestured towards sickbay. ‘Go and get your medical signed off.’
‘Sir,’ Jace acknowledge
d, and went off purposefully.
With Alica Higgs’ departure, though, there was a qualitative difference in the atmosphere aboard ship. Suddenly people seemed to be a lot busier even to Mako’s untutored eye. Many of them were attaching some kind of sticky discs over the fastenings of lockers and panels. This, it was explained to him, sealed them shut as inspected and not to be opened again until after the launch.
They were in the midst of doing this when a discreet cheer came from the command deck. Moments later, Jace Higgs dropped down through the hatch, grinning hugely and giving a thumbs up sign. Dr Tekawa had signed off on his medical. Just seconds after that, the PA system gave its preliminary fleep.
‘Attention on deck,’ said the skipper. Nobody came to attention but they stopped work and listened, many of them exchanging happy grins. ‘I am required and directed to read in the following orders.’
The slightest of pauses, and then he continued, with a fine confidence in the archaic form of words, ‘To Alexis Sean von Strada, Master of the corvette Minnow, 49603-26. Pursuant to the devices of the Constitution of the League of Worlds pertaining to the Defence and Preservation of all the worlds therein, you are hereby required and directed to venture the vessel in your command upon the perils of space. You are required and directed to engage said vessel to the purpose of preserving and assisting all vessels at peaceful endeavour, complying with all directions as to the disposition of your vessel and command of the company therein. All those members of the ship’s company willing to undertake the venture should signify their assent by saying aye.’
Mission Zero (Fourth Fleet Irregulars) Page 8
