Interplanetary Thrive

by Ginger Booth

  Sass nodded to him with a smile. “Abel prefers mornings off both days.” Abel nodded. “And I take Glow off.” She flicked the schedule onto the big display.

  “When do Jules and I get a day off?” Copeland muttered.

  “Your discretion, Mr. Copeland. But standing a watch isn’t much of an activity. In practice, that’s two 4-hour shifts when you can’t engage in engineering projects. Doing your homework is fine.” He nodded fair-enough. “Next two shift changes, I’d like all three of you to drop by the bridge for training.”

  They agreed. Eli was the most worried by this turn of events. She assured him that being clever and awake, and reaching the bridge a few seconds ahead of anyone else, was the main requirement. “If any engine burns are required, the bridge crew will come handle that for you.”

  Kassidy raised a hand. “Question, captain. Why is it that we keep accelerating in stages instead of once-and-done, up to speed and then cruise until turnover?”

  “Good question. Because Pono is still pulling us backward,” Sass replied. “The farther we get from Pono, the more net acceleration forward we achieve on each burn. In theory, with two star drives we could accelerate so hard at the start that we’d reach escape velocity and coast to turnover. But we don’t want to go faster than the computer’s reaction time on the guns. And that would burn more fuel and put extra wear and tear on the ship.”

  “We calculated it out,” Ben added.

  Copeland raised a finger. “I’d like to request you use both drives, sar. Maybe one burn on the backup drive for each four burns on the main drive. Wear it in.” The second star drive was newly refurbished at Hell’s Bells. As the backup system, it was mostly held in reserve.

  “Will do,” Sass agreed, and made a note of it. “And you’re keeping an eye on the fuel levels?”

  Copeland nodded. “We’ll go EVA again tomorrow and refill the hopper. Bridge crew could check that at watch changes, too.”

  “Agreed,” Sass continued. “Further structure. Every member of the crew will get a full workout, at least one hour every day. Workouts will be held at 07:00 and 15:00 hours. You’re welcome to do more. Not less. Jules, the meals?”

  “Yes, captain!” Jules bounced out of her seat. “A self-serve breakfast will be available from 07:10 to 09:00. Cortez, you’ll set up breakfast, make coffee and put out cereal and bowls, and handle the dishwasher, starting at 07:00. Except on Glow. Kassidy, you’ll make coffee and set out bread that day, and I’ll make a big brunch. Wilder will make supper. The rest of the week, Wilder, you’ll make lunch and help me prep for dinner.”

  “Will do, ma’am, sar,” Wilder acknowledged happily.

  Cortez and Kassidy looked less enthused. They looked even less enthused as their schedule plates were filled with full days of cleaning, alternating between Jules and Copeland as supervisor. First up, the excitement of cleaning algae out of all the hydroponic water lines. Laundry and floors. Burnishing the last of the rust off the bulkheads. Arts and crafts making faux subway tiles, and affixing them to bathroom walls.

  “Basically, you do your regular morning chores, then check in with Jules or me,” Copeland explained. “Some days I’ll need you. Like tomorrow, I’ll tell you when we go EVA to fill the hopper.”

  “Other than that, you can work out yourselves what you’d like to do today,” Jules encouraged. “So long as all the tasks are getting done.”

  The engineer prompted, “And we’ve got some all-hands cleaning events.”

  “Right!” Jules pounced. “First of the month, everyone pitches in to give the whole ship a thorough cleaning on the public spaces. Including the captain.”

  Sass grinned. “You know it!”

  “And middle of the month,” Copeland chimed in, “we all flush and clean the recycling lines.” Groans greeted this, especially from Ben. “If we’re drinking and eating from the recycling systems, I won’t tolerate our systems getting all disgusting like Mahina Orbital’s. You’ll see. Keep up with it, and it’s not bad.”

  Sass shot him a thumb’s up. “That’s all on cleaning?”

  “Clean-your-own day the two other weeks,” Jules supplied. “That’s when you clean your own cabins and bathrooms, wash your sheets and towels, dust, clean the floors, and all that. Wednesday is cleaning day. Different kind each week.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Engineering and Housekeeping!” Sass encouraged. “That still leaves a lot of time on our hands. Copeland and Ben are our hard-core students this time out. Did you pick a time?”

  “Every afternoon, this table right after lunch,” Ben reported. “Figure that way we can ask people for help when they drift through for snacks. Math and science and engineering galore.”

  “I’m available all day if anyone needs me,” Copeland added. “I might study in here mornings too, some days. All day project one day, all day study the next, kind of thing.”

  “Sounds great,” Sass encouraged. “Clay? Eli? I trust you’ve got your work lined up?”

  “Yes, sar,” they chimed. Eli added, “And I could use a couple hours a day help in my lab, if anyone wants?”

  “Kassidy, let’s split that,” Ben pounced. She shot him a thumb’s up.

  “So that’s the plan, gang,” Sass wrapped up. “Everyone plan to work 6 to 8 hours a day. That can include heavy studying. Plus exercise. Weekends mix it up.

  “Oh! And one more little bit of structure. Let’s make Dusk special to close the week. We will observe sunset at 17:00. Each week I’ll appoint a make-Dusk-special organizer to open the weekend. I’ll go first. This week Dusk is dress-up day. Wear your best work clothes during the day, and dress for date night in the evening.” She grinned.

  “Gang, I know you’re thinking this is make-work,” Clay interjected. “But on a long voyage, you need a regular routine, and regularly-scheduled breaks in that routine. Otherwise things get stale real quick.”

  Sass nodded emphatically. “Don’t waste 5 months. Live every day as though it matters. Decide on your goals for the voyage. Everyone should pursue some. There will be a quiz. A happy crew eats together, works together, plays together. If you start to get on each other’s nerves, talk to me. I’m always available to resolve crew conflicts. So is Abel.

  “Any questions? Good. Our new routine begins at 07:00 tomorrow. Enjoy a lazy day today! We all earned it, getting off Mahina on time.”

  9

  Day 3 outbound from Mahina

  150 days to Denali

  “Thanks for meeting with me, Abel!” Sass greeted him, doing her best to exude enthusiasm. She scooched over on the bench beneath the air-scrubber trees in the hold. “What are your goals and visions for the next 150 days?” She held her pocket tab at the ready. “Think of me as your goal-achievement coach.”

  “Uh… Become a better first mate? I always feel kinda awkward giving people orders. Especially Copeland.”

  “Perfect!” Sass encouraged. “And I have exactly the job for you to accomplish that. You can be the ship’s morale officer.”

  Abel blinked. “I’m pretty sure no one would consider me good for morale. Especially not Ben and Copeland.”

  “You need to gain confidence with your peers,” Sass prescribed. “This is just the ticket for that. You arrange evening activities and entertainments. Make your own ice cream sundae. Poker game. Movie night. Board games. Team sporting events. I’m thinking Dusk is date night out, and Glow is date night in, or a quiet night for the single crew. You can track who’s in charge of making Dusk special.”

  “Everyone will bitch at me,” Abel complained. “All the time.”

  Sass shrugged. “Some things will be fun. Some things won’t. So at the end of each activity, you ask if we want to do this again. Weekly, sometime, never. But always hold one night a week open for trying new things. And Dusk of course.”

  “And this makes me a better leader how?”

  Sass leaned forward, arms on her thighs. “Abel, do you agree with every decision I make?”

  “No
.”

  “Do you bitch at me?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Does it bother me?”

  He thought about that one. “Maybe?”

  “It only bothers me when you’re right,” Sass confided. “Because I screwed up. Right or wrong, I pick myself up and issue the orders. Because?”

  The first mate needed a moment on that question, too. “I got nothing.”

  “Because that’s my role, Abel. I give the orders.”

  “Copeland’s not going to obey me just because I give the orders. Ben will make fun of me no matter what I do.”

  “True. One, don’t give Copeland an order, ask him a question. ‘Cope, do we need to fill the fuel hopper today?’ Two, Ben will mouth off to you, and obey your orders. Since those two get under your skin, work on them especially this week. And we’ll talk again next week.” She smiled encouragement.

  Abel grimaced and blew out between duck-billed lips. “This is going to make me a better leader, huh?”

  Actually, Sass was thinking Ben would ridicule him for that duck-billed look. “You obey me, don’t you?” She batted her eyes.

  “Yes, sar.”

  “Good. Send Eli next, please.”

  When the botanist arrived, she sat back. “Dear Eli. What will you solve, with a full 5 months to concentrate on your work?”

  “I think I finally have a gene complex identified to tune plants to the Alohan sun. I’ll be able to get a light feed, right?”

  “Absolutely, Copeland will love it,” Sass agreed. “That would be huge, Eli. You think you’ll have that done before we get to Denali?”

  “I think I’ll have it done before I retire in 30 years,” Eli clarified. “I might get lucky.”

  Sass chuckled. “Speaking of which. What are your interpersonal goals now? Self-mastery? Kassidy? For instance.”

  Eli scowled at her. “The accidental co-habitation does not bode well for long-term happiness. We have nothing in common.” He considered this further. “That goes for the entire crew. Except you. We like plants. But we’re not interested in each other, either.”

  “No,” Sass agreed. “So, meditation? Study? New personal fitness record?”

  “You’re not going to let me escape this conversation without a personal goal, are you? I’m here to work, Sass.”

  She sighed. “It’s not enough, Eli. Life is more than work.”

  Eli growled, “If I participate in your one hour of exercise a day, that will be my personal lifelong fitness best.”

  “And evening activities – all group activities.”

  “Most.”

  “Most,” she allowed. “Which means at least 4 days out of 7, you participate in group activities, and 7 out of 7, you show up for a workout.”

  “Fine.” He rose. “Who’s your next victim?”

  “Eli, this isn’t a punishment. I care about you. And you know I’m a raving fan of your science. But to be the best you can be, you need to bring all of you to the game. Not a wan, wasted, dull technician who never smiles. Perpetually stuck in his tunnel vision because he never breaks free of his shell. You know?”

  “Point,” he allowed. “I’m still not going to shack up with Kassidy.”

  “Great! Me neither,” Sass allowed. “We’ll talk again next week about progress on your goals. Without fail. Send me Cortez, could you?”

  When the compact guard arrived, she sat cringing into the far corner of the bench. “Eli says this is about setting personal goals,” she blurted.

  “Yes,” Sass agreed warmly. “What have you got for me?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Cortez mumbled. “I’m least valuable player around here. I do what I’m ordered.”

  “Mm, no. Cortez, what makes you so sure you’re the least valuable of the crew?”

  “I’ve always been. On every crew. Bottom of the class. Last picked on teams. Last hired, first fired. I’m dumb. I can fight. But you don’t have any fighting to do between here and Denali. So I scrub bulkheads. I get it. I just don’t want to go back to the orbital. That place sucks so bad.”

  Sass studied the younger woman sadly. Actually, she’d never asked Cortez’s age. Though surely she was the second oldest woman on the ship after Sass. “You know who you remind me of?”

  “Who.”

  “Me. When I was drummed out of the army, pregnant, no family to fall back on, nobody wanted me.”

  That caught Cortez’s attention. She stared at Sass, her mouth set in resistant lines. “Well, I’m not you. You were a kid. I’m over 50. Don’t tell Wilder that.” She dropped her eyes.

  Sass leaned forward, arms on her thighs. “You’re good for something, Cortez. You’re valuable here. Scrubbing floors, fetching fuel – the tasks you’re given need to be done. And you’re picking up skills all the time. You’ve got more education than Jules and Copeland, at least. You know the city and the orbital. You have ideas. All I’m asking is you don’t give up on yourself. Find a goal and complete it. Pick a little one this week. Let’s get you back in the habit of winning.”

  The woman’s voice was a whisper, with a catch in it as though she was crying deep within. “I can’t think of any.”

  Sass sat up and draped her arm across the back of the bench. “What did you want as a kid, that you knew you could never have?”

  “Family. I’m a settler orphan. You probably remember the meteor strike to Bonhomie? Yeah. My parents ordered me, and then boom. Gone.”

  Sass nodded slowly. Bonhomie was one of the largest settlements. The shock wave from the meteor left no survivors. Any of their children in the creche remained there, raised by the city. Usually infant orphans were rare, and adoptions were arranged. Being the orphan who was never chosen, while other kids were snapped up, would have left a big wound.

  “I thought you looked a bit panicked when Jules announced her twins. Me, too. Cortez, I don’t have family. Just the people on this ship. We don’t know each other very well. Let’s fix that. Maybe that could be your goal this week. Let people know who you really are. And get to know them better. Next week, this time, tell me what you learned about everybody. And who you opened up to.”

  Cortez returned her gaze, then dropped her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

  “OK, how about an easier one,” Sass ventured. “Punctuality. Show up at the galley precisely at 07:00 to start the coffee. Every day. And say good morning to everyone when they show up.”

  Cortez snorted. “That I can do. Who do you want next?”

  “Copeland, please.”

  The engineer, when he arrived, already had his tablet out, and simply handed it to her. The tasks ranged from a secondary backup ventilation system, to what looked like half an engineering degree’s worth of book work, to designing a next generation ring skyship. In parentheses, that one was labeled ‘(masterpiece).’

  “Holy – That’s a lot, Cope. Please, take a seat.”

  “Yeah. I dunno how much I can manage before we get back to Mahina. The math is the hard part.”

  Sass chuckled in disbelief. “Harder than designing a ringship?”

  He smiled crookedly. “That’s the fun part.”

  She handed back his tablet. “How about personal goals?”

  He tucked his comm into a pocket, and his face closed. “Respect, cap, but personal means private.”

  “OK. But you’re not alone here. If there’s anything I can do to help. Any time. Abel, too. We understand how hard it is for you to come on this trip, and leave Nico behind.”

  He studied his hands, gnarled and scarred. At 26, Copeland appeared by far the oldest man on the Thrive, especially in his hands. And he truly was far more mature than Abel at 25, having lived as an adult since he finished 8th grade.

  “Guess I’d like to figure out how to be a better father. This time, on Mahina, it was mostly Ben and Dr. Acosta playing with him. I don’t know what to do with a baby. So I watched them. Jules too sometimes, and you.”

  “Well, he’s not a machine,” Sass jud
ged. “People are harder to figure out. And babies are pretty unreasonable.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed a knuckle. “Kid deserves better. There’s a poster in pediatrics at the creche. ‘Love is like algebra. Someone has to show you how to do it.’ Nobody really showed me how to be a dad. Except the Acostas.” He got up abruptly. “Can’t think of any metrics on that. So it’s just on my mind, not really a goal. That all, cap?”

  “Sure. Thanks for talking, Cope.”

  Day 4 outbound from Mahina

  149 days to Denali

  Clay claimed a seat on the bench below the scrubber trees last. Sass never invited him for a goal-setting session. He claimed one anyway.

  “I have two main goals for this leg of the trip,” he shared. “The first is to finish analyzing all the data from the orbitals.”

  “That’s a lot of data,” Sass observed. Clay had claimed the historical data archives for several decades, for both Mahina Orbital and its Sagamore analogue. He would have taken the Sagamore moon archives as well, if he had a chance.

  “I’ll need your help with that analysis,” Clay continued, enjoying the way she gulped. He leaned forward. “Second, I have a personal goal I think you could help me with.”

  “Do you.”

  “I’d like to build a fantastic relationship with my lover.”

  Sass had such thin white skin when she didn’t get enough sun. The blush showed clear as day. “And you have a plan for how to go about this, no doubt.” His last plan involved athletic tourism, and quite a few bottles of wine.

  “A schedule, I thought,” Clay agreed. “Sex at least three times a week, of course. I’m thinking Wednesday morning, Glow evening, and one more time spontaneously. More if we want it, of course.”

  “OK, that makes sense. I like it.”

  “And you tell me your goals,” Clay insisted. “Because you’re making everyone on the ship tell you their goals. I want to be the one who keeps you accountable for yours.”

  “You’re not my boss anymore, Rocha.”

  “Not as your boss,” Clay agreed. “As your cheerleader. So aside from sticking your nose into everyone else’s business, with no justification –”