Battleship Destroyer (21 page)

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Months later
Jack sat on the deck with his back against the bulkhead to one side of a hatch with his sheet in his lap studying for the test he had to take the next day.  A dozen crewmen played a game of hackysac in the middle of the platform in front of the hatch to the 5 deck tall tank. After much practice they usually kept it in the air for 10 and 15 minutes at a time with encouragements or insults between the players and derision for the one that finally dropped the ball even though the circle of players was usually 50 feet across and more by then. The First Class lay against the bulkhead on the other side of the hatch sleeping off too many drinks. Jack had wondered the first week aboard ship and on the job since, why the First Class was never disciplined. Though he eventually did his job opening up the hatch and assigning jobs with little more than a wave of his hand except when he was really drunk or upset and he would spend hours harassing the crew like they were in a bad boot camp. Especially if he had to take notice of their work. Jack did not care as long as he was left alone to study when he was not vacuuming up reaction mass water. As a 3rd class he got the job of driving one of the vacuum carts instead of squeegeeing reaction mass into the drains the spacemen got stuck with. But over time the First Class just seemed to get worse and worse costing him more and more time from studying.

Looking at his watch Jack shook his head. They had
already dried one tank that day and had been waiting to get into dry the second tank for over two hours now waiting for the First Class to open the damn hatch. But he had come in and flopped down in his drunken stupor and had fallen fast asleep without even opening the hatch into the tank this time. Not that he had not done it before. So Jack knew that if they did not get started soon they would break for dinner. If things progressed as usual, they would be lucky to finish by midnight with the 1st class screaming at them to finish so he could go hit the bar before it closed. The problem was that Jack had gravboard watch at 2400.  Which meant little sleep again when he took the test the next morning in the training and education office.

A test he wanted to do good on.
If he passed the classes' beginning knowledge progress test with a 95% grade or better, he did not have to waste time doing and turning in 3 months of work assignments on things he already knew only to take the test again, though then all he needed to get was a 75% to pass it. He had spent the previous week studying for it as he had done for most of the other classes since he had boarded the ship. Learning the hard way, that the test officer did not listen to excuses that he had to work late and had watch and was too tired to do excellent on the test. They did not give a rat’s ass or do-overs or let you delay the scheduled test until you had some sleep and with only a 94 he wound up working his butt off doing assignments and taking another dozen tests for several months on crap he already knew. Not that it was hard but just tedious and time consuming when he needed to be reviewing other classes beginning knowledge tests, not to mention studying and working the text books of classes he had not taken and gotten degrees in before so he could pass their pretests.

In spite of that
, he had been averaging passing a skills test with an average of 97% grade every week. He would have the all-important basic bachelor's degrees within another 2 months. Including the new courses he had not taken before. Then he would start on his Doctorates while finishing the rest of the bachelors he had put off that could wait. Though the Doctorate's would take longer even if he managed to use the old papers he had submitted for his original Doctorates. The Doctorate boards wanted to see the work. They knew you already knew the subjects. They wanted to know if you could think beyond the concepts with new valid ideas using accepted scientific procedures. Something that should be easy after the tutelage of the tyrant his grandfather was."

Looking at his
comm watch again, Jack frowned and then looked at the First Class still sleeping. Shaking his head he went back to studying when his wrist comm watch beeped. An incoming video. Clicking on his wrist comm he transferred the message to his sheet and smiled. It had to be Tom telling him about his new Battleship now that he was an officer. Only it wasn't.

Hi
s mother looked out at him. "Hi Jack. I hope you are well. I am sorry to hear that you are not becoming a Battleship Pilot. I wish we would have looked closer at what the doctor's at the time were telling us about you. I can't believe we actually believed you would not be with us very long. Your father really feels bad about enrolling you in that unaccredited collage just to save a little money. He also feels bad about what he has been finding out about the way your brother used to treat you. We both know now we should have paid closer attention to you instead of keeping you at arm's length thinking you would be gone soon." Shaking her head she started crying.

Jack started to reach over and shut it off when she
wiped her eyes and continued.

"After
you joined the Navy, it seems your brother's piloting skills were flushed down the toilet. We wound up paying tens of thousands of credits in damaged cargo most trips and lost most of our first class passengers with our reputation for a safe smooth ride. We even had to land at an emergency pit hundreds of miles from the port out in the middle of nowhere last week. No one wants to be aboard a ship that misses the port with hundred mile detours with what resembles thrill rides on landing. Your father finally had to replace him as pilot and is still looking for a gravboard officer that is half as good as you were. I lost my dinner a month ago when the gravity jumped up to four Gees and dropped to - 2 and back again upon landing. The gal was trying to hard trying to do as good as you after your father yelled at her. Evidentially the board is not just window dressing after all now we have seen what a good officer can do with it. At least now we are not having to pay for damaged cargo or wind up missing the Starport completely and have to spend money on hundreds or in several cases, thousands of tons of extra mass just to land. 

Your father was going to replace Pop as well
when he got the ship lost for the second time light-years from our intended destination but realized that it was the Captain's responsibility to make sure the Navigator was navigating to the right planet and you have to admit Pop is a good Navigator and has saved the ship a lot of money and time between the stars and still does. That just meant your father had to start doing something else we found out you used to do without anyone but Pop knowing about it. That is besides your brother and all the things he had you doing for him to take credit for."

"
Your brother finally confessed that you were doing all the maintenance tasks and that he forced you to sign the IOU’s. The crew went on strike when he started charging them for tool rents and fining them for hundreds of minor infractions not even on the books. Then the nozzles he welded up failed time after time. This time it almost cost us the ship when both engines blew most of their feed nozzles only feet out of the pit. Luckily we managed to land but it is costing us thousands in port machine shop work and a week's delay as well as the fines. We are just now finding out what your brother did with all the money we thought was going to crew overtime and training now that you are not here to do it."

"Your brother is no longer the Captain designate of the new ship. That is if we still get a new ship with all the money we have lost since you left.
"

"I know your father will never get over feeling like a failed fool or forgive himself.
Especially with your Grandfather giving him the treatment he and your brother always gave you. And maybe someday he will drop you a line to tell you and ask for your forgiveness.  But for now he is trying to figure a way to find out where your ship is and dead head to do that in person. I caught him checking to see how much fuel and mass it would take to dead head an empty ship to the nearest military station at the front this morning, just in case he can’t find a load headed that way even though your ship is not officially there but he can't find it anyplace else. This afternoon he sent notes to every tramp ship we know, asking them if they have seen your ship and send us a flagged emergency note if they do see the Red Dwarf. Don't worry dear, he is not about to even try to make you leave. Fact is he has been bursting with pride ever sense you left, (once he calmed down) at the fact that you would become a Battleship Pilot and even now that you aren’t. He even blames himself. It is the main topic with everyone he meets. No, he just wants to make sure you are doing well and apologize to you in person so you know how much we do love you. I have to agree that you do deserve hearing his apology personally and not from a video letter. Besides that is the kind of man your father is. So don't be too surprised if we show up."

"Now I know you are busy and I don't want to take up anymore of your
valuable time. You just take care and be the best you can be. We all love you. Even your brother when he gets done being jealous of you. Good night Jack."

"Oh and one more thing. I just found out Pop sent a letter to the Navy. Or should I say letters trying to get
your degrees accredited and you assigned to the Earth Propulsion institute or the Research Directorate as a research assistant.  He told me that today when he heard that I was videoing you and wants you to know that he is impressed at your progress and the additional courses you are taking. He is getting copies of your tests shortly after you take them. The Navy is paying the costs to send them priority transmission to Pop." She chuckled at that. "Pop says to tell you that he is going to box your ears if you don't start getting 100's. But don't worry. I saw his test score transcripts years ago and he rarely got over a 96 on his pre-course tests. Bye love and vid when you get a chance."

"Criste dad! Dead heading across half the damn Republic would cost a fortune. NO! Not half enough to make up for all the years of crap and lies." Jack had to let that sink in for quite a while as he kept wiping the tears from his cheeks. "A hundred? Shit damn it! I am not going to do that sitting here."

D
ragging himself up he started to head for the First class when the First Class opened his eyes and looked at him groggily. Stopping Jack in his tracks. Turning around Jack went half way back to his spot and stopped. Turning back around he swallowed hard and licked his lips then headed for the First Class again who was dead to the world again. Slowing down to almost a crawl, Jack walked up to him ready to run. "First Class Dickens?"

When he did not even move
, Jack tentatively reached down and shook him. "First Class Dickens?" Then stepped back, waiting for hell to break loose as he bit his lip holding his breath.

First Class Dickens lifted his head, opened his eyes
and groggily said. "What the hell... Huggump… do you... want? Leave me... alone."  And waved his hand through the air trying to brush a fly away as he closed his eyes again and his head hit his arm laying on the deck.

Jack started to walk away then stopped. Turning back around
he stepped back next to the First Class.  "First Class Dickens; you need to open so we can dry out the tank." He said loudly only a couple feet away and then took a couple steps back waiting for the explosion.

Waving his hand in the air
again he turned back over away from Jack grimacing. "You're a fucking 3rd class. Open the damn thing and leave me the fuck alone." Covering his eyes from the light.

J
ack straightened up looking down at the poor excuse for a petty officer, shaking his head. Turning around he watched the game of hackysac for a few seconds and then looked at the closed hatch into the tank. Turning to the first class again Jack bit his lip. "Ah... Ahh…But...” His eyes starting to dart around the hundred foot wide platform ringing the pipe chase with a good hundred huge 3 foot diameter pipes running up the wide open center branching off to different tanks up the miles long chase. Finally he walked over to the lock control panel and started checking the condition of the tank. Looking over his shoulder every few seconds with his knees bent ready to run. Jack made sure the tank was empty, the valves in the mass transfer lines to it locked closed, oxygen levels appropriate with the air vent valves locked open and the tank safe to enter. Finally after the 6th check, his hands shaking, glancing over his shoulder expecting to see a monster, he tapped in the unlock code scared to death and hopping he remembered the code wrong.

When the light turned green he
stared at it for a good minute hoping it would turn red again so he could forget he even thought of doing anything. When it didn't, he looked around at the first class still passed out. Not paying him even the least bit of attention as the hackysac game continued with the ring of crewmen over 40 feet apart and slowly growing bigger, yelling at each other as the sac flew high in the air across between them back and forth only to be kicked back into the air and across the ring of crewmen again.

Jack turned to the hatch
, reaching out to the lever that would open it and stopped. Looking at the game with no one paying the least attention to him, ready to run if anyone even glanced in his direction. Grasping the handle tightly and glancing at Dickens again, Jack's heart beating a mile a minute, he pulled the lever around and the hatch started opening. The locking pins slamming open and the hatch motors started their wine as the 16 foot square hatch started opening.

Closing
his eyes he waited for the heavens, or the fireballs of hell to descend upon his head or a hit full force on his back or across his head like his brother always did when he did something his brother thought he shouldn't. When he did not hear anyone screaming at him for opening the hatch or a sharp sudden pain in his back or stars from a head slap and that he was still alive, he turned around to see the crew staring at him with the sac laying on the deck alone and forgotten. Licking his lips as he looked at the distant elevator platform that could take him back down to the maintenance decks, he thought about running but it was too far away  and then looked around for someplace to hide. With the row of huge tank hatches ringing the deck securely closed, the only place to hide was inside the tank with the opening hatch.