by Chris Hechtl
They stopped for some lunch and made some small talk. Horatio was amused to see the rear admiral was something of a celebrity in the officer's mess. Then they hopped a shuttle to the San Diego base.
“I noticed it was a sphere. No way was that found that way. Did you make it or …?”
“We made it,” Horatio explained. “It's a Bernal sphere. What we did was, we found a suitable rock and then bored into it with the energy weapons of Firefly until it was hollow. Then we packed it with ice and then plugged the hole. Then Firefly spun it up and she and other ships took turns melting it.”
Admiral Zekowitz's eyes were lost as he pictured the scenario. He wasn't aware that Horatio had tried to send him links and images through his implants. “I … see,” he finally said.
“Once it heated, the molten metal outside was expanded by the sudden superheated steam inside its guts. Eventually it expanded into a near perfect sphere. We used sun shades to cool it. It took months to cool it down and vent it.”
“Ah,” Zek said with a nod. “I can see the uses,” he admitted. “We do things differently in Bek,” he stated.
“I see, sir. This was an old innovation actually. It was how some of the first orbital fortresses and battle moons were made,” Horatio stated.
Zek's eyes widened. “You mean that thing is a battle moon?”
Horatio snorted. “Some would like you to think so, but no, sir. It was never intended to be one, just to appear as one,” he said. Zek frowned, clearly confused by the concept. “A bit of a bluff by Admiral Irons, sir.” Slowly the rear admiral nodded in understanding as he caught on. “It serves its purpose,” Horatio said.
“As do we,” Zek murmured quietly.
~<><{<^>}><>~
“I almost envy them,” Admiral Zekowitz said, nodding his chin to his yeoman. Lieutenant Si turned to see the yeoman tapping at a virtual keyboard in front of him that only he could see. It looked like the Veraxin was spastically waving his hands to the uninitiated. “I mean, we did that, but with VR goggles or something,” the admiral said.
“It's efficient, sir.”
The admiral snorted. “In a way, yes. But it's taking your work home with you. Some people need a break,” he said, pursing his lips as the hatch closed.
Lieutenant Si frowned and then settled herself. Something had to be done, an intervention she thought. Caroline was out of her slip and doing working-up exercises again. They were just about ready to go. At this point they were waiting on a shipment of parts from Antigua and Admiral Zekowitz. She couldn't see her charge holding up the works; it wouldn't look good for him in the long run.
So, despite the perilous journey she was about to endeavor and the potential for career suicide, she plunged in—for his sake and the sake of the mission if for nothing else.
“You look like you've got something on your mind and on the tip of your tongue. Spit it out, Oprah,” Zek said.
“Thank you, sir. Can I be frank?” Lieutenant Si said, eyeing him.
“Of course,” the admiral replied, sitting back and getting comfortable. “I've never known you not to be. In fact, I've told you before I want it straight from you.”
“I know, sir. I've been biting my tongue on a subject since up until now it was personal. But I think … hell,” she sighed, making him blink in surprise. “Sir, we need to get you sorted out. We need to do it soon, before Caroline is finished.”
“Oh?” the admiral asked, voice cooling slightly. “I wasn't aware I needed sorting out,” he said in a pointed tone of voice. “What does this have to do with Caroline?” he asked.
“Caroline is almost ready to set sail, sir. The crew is finishing up with her working-up. I give it another two or three days to fully break in her new systems and then she'll return to port. The crew will be given liberty while the yard dogs tie up some loose ends that might have come undone, but then she'll be ready. And right around that time we should be seeing that next convoy in with the last of the cargo Caroline will be bringing to Bek and Nuevo.”
“Okay …”
“So the only thing holding up the works will be you, sir.”
“Me? I can do a lot of the class work on the voyage home I suppose,” he said, waving a tablet then setting it down.
“You medically, sir. That's why I've been hesitant to bring it up. Why I was okay taking the plunge, I figured with me as an example you'd get off the stick,” she said.
His eyes narrowed as his temper started to flare.
“We need to get you moving on the medical procedures, sir. You need the implants so you'll have the keys. Preferably, before everything else is ready. It will be a black mark against you if you are the one thing holding up the works, sir. People will ask why.”
He frowned. The frown deepened as she realized she had a point.
“The good news is, the small first steps have been done already, sir. I don't know if you need some handholding or a swift kick in the ass. Quite frankly I've been scared shitless bringing it up, but I realized last night I was doing you a disservice by not bringing it up sooner. I apologize for that,” she said.
He grunted.
“I can give you a lollipop if you really need one, sir,” she teased in a wheedling tone of voice. He glowered at her, some of his temper evaporating as her attempt at humor penetrated.
“As far as the class work is concerned, trust me, it gets easier, far easier with implants.” He cocked his head at her. He'd noted he wasn't where he'd customarily been in class standings. He'd chalked it up to his age and the lack of foundation. Apparently, he'd turned a blind eye to the fact that his fellow students had another advantage over him. “The interesting thing is you can download information into your implants. Upload, download, you get the idea,” the lieutenant said patiently. “You can then access it as needed or even set your implants to sleep teach it to you. But you can also draw on worksheets and tools as needed. That includes scripts like equation generators and such. You can then pull them up and use them as needed.”
He frowned thoughtfully. Slowly he nodded.
“That includes building steps and schedules. Everything not at the tip of your fingers but right here,” she said, tapping her temple. “Easy to use once you learn how. Part of the rehabilitation training is to learn how to use them. Keeping them in practice is up to you, but they have periodic retesting to make sure everyone is minimally up to snuff in all relevant fields.”
“I see,” he said in a different tone of voice.
“We've got to get you moving, sir. I don't want to have to drag you kicking and screaming into the new century, but if you insist …,” she said, pretending to roll her sleeves up.
He snorted. “Okay, that's enough of that. I'll … I'll look into it more.”
“Do more than that please, sir. I promise, most of it doesn't hurt.” She grimaced and rubbed the small of her back. “I will admit the work they did on my back didn't hurt, but the rehab to get the muscles in my back sorted out did a bit.”
“You're not helping your case,” he replied in bemusement. “But I see your point,” he said, waving a hand to forestall her protest. “And yes, I know everyone is different, and I know I don't have back problems,” he said.
“But I know you have a chronic knee problem you'd love to fix. And the antigeriatric meds make you about fifty years younger. You'll be like a teenager again, sir.” She grinned slightly, her eyes practically crinkling up into a squint that always amused him.
“Okay, that part I'm sold on. The process to get to that point though …”
“A little pain now. It beats growing old, sir,” she said with a shrug. “You are a careerist like I am, sir. You'll get the full payload, so yeah it'll suck. But once it's done, you will be good for another century or more before you need a tune-up.”
He stilled for a moment then slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, that I kind of like. Having the energy of my youth …” he nodded.
“Good. You've got an appointment to talk with the doctors tomorr
ow, sir. Take advantage of it. This time listen to it and don't think of it as a sales pitch,” she admonished, shaking her finger at him.
“You know you are kind of pushy for a lieutenant,” he said eyeing her.
“Too much?” she asked, pulling back.
“A bit. But I guess I needed the swift kick,” he said ruefully. “Okay, I'll go.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He eyed her with a moderate glower. “Now get your smug expression off your face and back to professional lines before I really do kick you in the fanny.”
“Yes, sir,” she said more dutifully.
He snorted but then returned his attention to the project at hand.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Lieutenant Taylor was bemused to see Admiral Zekowitz march into his office. “Let's do this,” the admiral said as a nurse tried to deal with the sudden unwanted demand for attention from a senior officer and the shift to their schedule it would create.
“Sir?”
“You heard me. I want the basics. Start small; go like you did with Lieutenant Si.”
The doctor slowly nodded as he stuffed his hands in his medical smock. “Okay, sir, you are talking about the minor procedures?”
“Yes. No nanites, just … just the basics. Old school,” Zek said, forcing himself to get over his fear.
“Okay …,” the doctor looked at the nurse and texted an inquiry. She nodded silently and pointed to a room. “This way, sir. We'll run a quick scan, then I'll see what I can do. We'll write up a game plan for you.”
“Good,” the admiral growled. He pushed past the doctor and nurse and entered the room.
After the exam and initial work-up, the doctor nodded. “Okay, I can schedule you … wait, you are rather busy. Should we get your yeoman involved, sir?”
“Can we do this today? I've cleared part of my schedule,” the admiral said.
“Ordinarily, we have you clean yourself out and fast, sir. Did you have breakfast this morning?” The admiral grimaced and then nodded. “Okay, see, that's a problem.”
“I don't see why it is. It's my stomach,” the admiral growled.
“We have to make sure something doesn't come up and obstruct your airway, sir. We also need to make sure your organs are resting, not actively working on processing food.”
“Oh.”
“The bowel needs to be clear in case you are so deep you lose control and well …”
“Make a mess. Yes, I see your point I suppose,” Zek growled. “So much for a minor implant upgrade,” he said.
“It's far from simple, sir, especially for a flag officer. And an engineer's implants on top of that …,” Doctor Taylor shook his head. “Look, I can program some nanites to do some of the work in advance as I did with Lieutenant Si, sir.” He instantly regretted that statement since he noted the elevated heart rate and blood pressure of his patient. “You won't notice it. Swallow a couple pills, go about your day as you normally do, and then when you go to sleep they will kick in. They'll do what they were programmed to do, and the next morning you'll have a bowel movement and flush them out.”
“No. No nanotech. No nanites. We do this old school,” the admiral growled firmly.
“Very well, sir. Tomorrow then?” The admiral nodded. The doctor checked his schedule. “We'll need you here by 0400, sir. Don't eat from now on. I'll have a nurse give you the kit to clean yourself out. Do you want everything we can do or all of it? All will take all day and yes, it will involve nanotech, sir,” he warned.
“Just what I said. The old school,” the admiral replied stubbornly.
“Old school will make your recovery time a lot longer, sir. And you'll have a higher risk of infection. But okay,” the doctor said. “This is a step forward,” he admitted.
“You're damn right it is,” the admiral growled. He wouldn't allow nanites to be used however. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get over that. “One step at a time,” he murmured as he walked out.
“You say something, Commander?” the admiral accused.
“Just thinking out loud, sir,” the doctor replied. “Have a good day, sir,” he said as he returned to his duties.
The admiral seemed mollified by the encounter. “Damn it, tomorrow is out,” the admiral said, making the doctor blink in surprise. “I forgot; I've got another tour of San Diego's academy shortly. Schedule me for after that. Minimum as I said, no nanotech,” he warned, holding up a restraining finger. “I'll have my yeoman call your office and arrange it.”
“Yes, sir,” the Doctor said dutifully.
After the admiral left, the Doctor flagged his previous diagnosis of nanite paranoia and tagged it for counseling.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Horatio toured the Helmsman and Navigation Academy on San Diego with Rear Admiral Zekowitz and Lieutenant Si. Of keen interest to him and apparently the rear admiral given their history and their mutual future assignment were the water dwellers. He had known there weren't many available, just four cadets about to graduate. He immediately realized that there were not enough in the pipeline in his estimation. There were some, about a dozen or so altogether, but not nearly enough, and he knew there were other demands for their services besides the rapids.
Extraordinary navigators and helmsman that could handle the rigorous demands of traveling in Delta band alone and then there were the pilots needed to helm the Dora class freighters that were deploying ansibles in every star system. Those ships needed a steady smooth ride as much as possible.
Technically, they didn't need to be officers to man the helm of a starship. He knew that some helmsmen were enlisted or noncoms on some ships. The tradition though was for many to go for a full officer's commission. Having another officer on the bridge, even if they were at the helm, meant that the ship had one more officer who could stand watches and oversee things. It also allowed officers to be run through the various departments that made up a ship.
But he also knew that if they'd just run them through an abbreviated enlistment course they'd get them in a third of the time. Just with a lot more rough edges.
“Helming a ship in subspace is the same here and in Bek obviously,” Zek said in an aside. Horatio nodded. “I wanted to see ….” Zek paused as their guide indicated an observation room. They filed in and the rear admiral gave an ah of appreciation. Horatio entered behind him and then nodded. Beyond the one-way mirror, a group of students were working on a hyperspace sim. Around the room he could see the various displays feeding them information. Their implants were secondary he thought, though the actual helm team might be jacked in. He wasn't certain.
“Interesting,” the rear admiral murmured, leaning forward to watch.
Horatio turned to see some of the techs who were running the sim in the observation room. Each was attentive to their duties. He could see how the trio was prepping to throw a monkey wrench into the sim though. A clock was counting down under the mission clock.
“Sims like this give our students valuable time to practice various scenarios and learn the procedures to deal with them. It is quite one thing to read about it and test okay on the theory. But we all know that it is in real life that it matters. There is no reset in real life, so we hope they make their mistakes here,” Lieutenant Brinkly said.
The admiral grunted.
“Um, this way …,” the female Neogorilla said. They followed her out. They moved down the hall to another observation room and stepped inside.
“Now this is more like it,” Zek murmured once their eyes adjusted to the dimmer room. On the other side of the glass, a familiar team was at work. But there were some noticeable differences, most noticeably the pair of tanks in place of a standard helm station. “Some ships use this set-up exclusively as you know, sirs,” the Neogorilla stated.
They watched a pair of water dwellers, one of them a selkie floating in tanks of water mist. There weren't any bubbles, so they appeared to be grav tanks. “Cadet Grover is the navigator for this run. They switch off; one runs the helm wh
ile the other runs the navigational station. It keeps them honest and on their toes. We try not to let them form too deep attachments, but some attachment is inevitable I suppose,” the Neogorilla said.
Horatio nodded. The gangly blue neochimp in the sim room seemed to be able to keep up with the demands of his station but only barely. “We've done quite well with the program,” Lieutenant Brinkly said with some pride. “We've pared the course down to the basics and built advanced courses for the truly gifted like these are,” he said, indicating the water dwellers.
“I see that,” Horatio said, peering at them.
Lieutenant Brinkly went on to explain that the water dwellers had a bit of a commute to the water quarters. “I know it was set up for the Ssilli, but it's perfect for them. They prefer it actually, and if possible they like to attend classes remotely from there.” The flag officers nodded in understanding. “Some have expressed a preference for the antigrav quarters, but they have been energy intensive to set up and prone to problems in the past. We've tried to dissuade that preference now.”
Lieutenant Si blinked. “Why I mean …”
Lieutenant Brinkly glanced at her. From the Neogorilla's expression, Horatio could see she wasn't certain if the lieutenant was asking a stupid question for real or not. Admiral Zekowitz cleared his throat. “I'd like to know too,” he said quietly.
That broke the lieutenant out of her study. She chuffed. “To answer your question, gravitational bleed, sir. We have to shield the compartment from bleed off from surrounding emitters,” she explained patiently.
“Oh, forgot that,” Horatio admitted with a grimace, covering for the Bekian officers. “It just goes to show, you can't remember everything I suppose,” he said. The Neogorilla blinked at him but then nodded once. “So, the rest are using the quarters we set up for the Ssilli? I'm glad they are being put to use then.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I wish we could stay, but since we're on a tight schedule,” the lieutenant said regretfully.
“Continue,” the admiral said with a nod. “I've seen it before on Caroline. I was just curious about how the training went.”
