Stepping Up (11 page)

“Da always said engineering runs in the family.  Perhaps
I’ll be buyin’ some of those cells for personal projects.  The lads on the ship
always want their Strike Armor to be lighter, stronger, faster, and such.  And
also, thank ye for the key, we may make it back to Tammuz from time to time,
but it’s nice to know that there’s another place I’ll be able to call home. 
And before I leave, don’t let me forget to give you my ship name, my perCom
code and all that other contact data.  Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to
lose ye again.”

He shakes a finger in my face. “You call anyplace other than
the inside of that fence ‘home’ and I’ll tan your tiny, shiny hiney!” I join
the laughter when I see the twinkle in his eyes.  “And the power cells are not
that little. They’re for the MagTrains.”

“MagTrains, eh? Well the lads are strong, but they’re no’
that strong.” We both laugh.

We spend the afternoon telling tales of family that the
other has missed.  The sun begins to dip, it will be dark in a few hours. 
“Well, Uncle, I suppose it’s time I’m gettin’ back to the inn.  I’m guessing it
wouldn’t do for me to be wandering down the hills in the dark.”

“I’ll be hearin’ none of it.  You stay right here as long as
you like, lass. There’s a lot of rooms that have no one in ’em, I’ll not have
you spendin’ money on something when a something wi’ no charge is available.
But I know ye’ve a life and things to do.  True, I can’t match Iris’s cooking,
but I’ve not killed anyone yet.”

“Well, you are a peach, aren’t you? I’ll do it then.  I’ll
need to go back in the morning to fetch my kit, but I’ll be back.  I’m on shore
leave, and who better to spend it with than family?”

On paper and in theory, I’m on vacation.  But a day I
don’t learn something, I consider a day wasted. So over the days that follow I
assist Uncle Angus in his workshop as much as he’ll let me. He teaches me quite
a lot about fuel cell technology; not only practice but theory as well.  He
shows me the components and a few of his favorite wrench spinning tricks.  I
stay the rest of the week then prepare to leave for the tropics.  Scotia is
beautiful, but a bit chilly for me to work on my tan.  At our last breakfast he
bids me a teary farewell and gives me a special number to a person who can
always get word to him quickly.  “Should the need arise.”  And that’s all he’ll
say on the subject.  For a parting gift he hands me a blanket of the MacTaggert
tartan.

This train ride is longer than the one from Yucca to the
MiddleLands, but this one is crossing two continents and an ocean.  I make use
of the ride to fiddle with my armor designs.  I find some flaws and make the
necessary changes to the designs.  Freddie should be happy.  The original
design called for a cable from the shoulder of the armor, which the Trooper had
to plug into the weapon.  The cable would get tangled and throw off the
sighting, or snag on something and get disconnected.  It makes sense to put
that connection in the glove of the armor; in the pinky finger to be specific. 
The Trooper just has to pick up the weapon, hold it properly, and he’s
connected. 
Am I the first to think of this?

After most of a day, subjectively of course, the train
arrives at the station in Lemuria.  I don’t like traveling into the day, west
to east, on this planet. It makes the time pass at a faster than normal rate. 
The local chronometers say it’s tomorrow at noon, my body clock says it’s
almost bedtime today.  I confirmed my hotel reservation on the train, so the
room is ready for me.  I go to my room and move my clothes from my duffle to
drawers and hangers.  The one dress I brought is hopelessly wrinkled so I put
it in the hotel laundry bag for pressing.  I’m tempted to fall across the bed
and sleep, but I learned a long time ago that the best way to avoid time lag is
to stay up until the locals go to sleep and get up when they do.  So instead, I
do what any girl would do in my stead:  I go shopping.

I find a nice boutique and get a scarlet bikini with a
gossamer jacket to go over it and some local evening wear.  Jimmy would not
approve of the bikini.  Publicly. The climate is tropical, so it’s very
lightweight, and a bit on the revealing side.  After stashing the bags in my
room, I change into the bikini and toss the jacket over one shoulder, then
wander to the lounge for something to do.

I pick up a few pamphlets in the lobby and stroll out to the
pool to peruse them.  There’s a tourist trip out to a sand bar. It’s a touch
above pocket cash, but I sign up.  I’ve never imagined intentionally touching a
stingray before; I always thought of them as dangerous.  But it’s true; they
really are the pussycats of the sea.  I spend a week swimming, sunning—just
relaxing.  I wish Avi or Aria had come with me, though. I’m surrounded by
people, but feel very lonely.  I try to call Avi a few times but I never get an
answer.  However, I receive three marriage proposals and place third in the
Miss Lemuria Beach competition.  The twenty thousand credit prize sends my ego
through the roof.

I gently but firmly rebuff two of the proposals.  The third
fellow is a bit more persistent.  His wife, soon to be ex-wife I gather, helps
me help him get the message.  It’s sure to leave a nasty scar, but he’ll be
able to walk.  Within the year, anyway.

On day sixteen of my leave I call Mack. “I’d like to head
back today and take a leisurely look at the engines before we boost.  Will that
be a problem?”

“Not at all, I need to talk to you anyway.”

That’s the best news I’ve heard in quite a while.  My time
in Scotia with Angus was restorative, and my time in Lemuria gave me
experiences of a lifetime that I will probably never experience again.  But I
have missed the ship.  I’ve missed Gorb, I’ve missed Mack, and my other new
friends.  It’s time to go back.

It takes me only a few minutes to pack my duffle bag and
gather up a few odds and ends that won’t travel well in it.  Then I slip into a
pair of khaki shorts, sandals and a tee shirt and take the train back to the
starport.  This time I sleep most of the way.  I have to credit Uncle Angus for
his brilliance.  I told him before I left Scotia about all the men who
interrupted my sleep trying to chat me up.  He handed me an envelope and said,
“Set this on the seat next to you.  Make sure they can see it. They’ll leave
you be.”  And it works like a charm.  I pull it out and read it again.  It’s
printed on a piece of letterhead from the Foundation to Halt the Spread of
Communicable Disease, complete with a biohazard warning sign:

Miss Campbell, it is our sad duty to inform you that
you have indeed tested positive for
(a phrase that is very long of which
I’d never heard but have since learned is Ancient Atlan of the Golian rendering
of the Martian words for “The young lady with the beautiful red hair desires to
be left alone.”)
.  As you know, this disease is terminal.  We recommend you
set your personal affairs in order and find a long-term care facility at once. 
We must also urge you in the strongest language possible to limit your intimate
encounters to those similarly afflicted only, as this malady has been proven to
defeat all methods of barrier sexual protection.

Regards,
Dr. Adrian Kartofflnkobpf

I sleep like a log.

I knock on the door to the Lead Engineer’s Office before
pushing the door open.  “After two weeks of whirlwind travel, I’m back.  What’s
on your mind, Boss?  Boss?”  There’s nobody here.  I do a quick look around and
find Gorb in workshop four.  “Gorb, where’s Mack?”

“Mack sick.  In hospital.”

To be specific, Mack is in Intensive Care.

When I get to medical, I find him sitting in a bed.  Doc
Traynor is inserting an IV catheter into the back of his hand.  Needa has his
other hand monitoring his radial pulse.  “According to her,” his eyes cut to
Dr. Traynor, “I have a degenerative bone and tissue disease,” he tells me. “Doc
says I will be bed ridden for a long period.  Which is good, because I’ve
always enjoyed being ridden in bed.” His laugh is weak and involves some
coughing. Productive coughing.  Needa holds a container for his expectoration. 
“But I wanted to stay aboard.  You are now in probationary charge of
Engineering.  I am here to guide you via perCom and you will give me a status
report every day no later than 0900.” He must be reading the expression on my
face. “You can do this.  You’re going to need to use Gorb to his full
potential; you’ve barely scratched his surface.  And you will need to make it a
point to meet the other team leads—at your convenience, of course.”

“Wow,” is all I can say.  “You sure know how to deflate a
girl.  I admit I want your job, but this isn’t how I wanted to get it. I wanted
you promoted, not sidelined.  But I appreciate your confidence and will do my
very best.”

“These things happen in life. You will report to Aria unless
something Really, Really Bad happens.  In that circumstance you will report
directly to the Captain.  Now get out of here, I’ll see you no later than zero
nine.”

“Yes, sir.” I start to go but stop. “Is this something
you’re going to be able to kick or...do you know?”

“I’m not sure but I bloody hope so. Otherwise I’m pulling
the plug or jumping out the airlock or punching Aria in the nose.  You know,
something that is certain to end in death.” Another weak laugh.  This cough
ends with more brown mucus going into the waste bin.  He can’t see Avi standing
behind him.  But I can, Avi’s eyes meet mine.  He gently shakes his head from
side to side.

I look back to Mack, “Hang in there.  I’ve got this, but I
reserve the right to come to you for help, advice, or,” my eyes dart to Avi
then back to Mack, “a shoulder to cry on.”

“You had bloody well better.  If you need me and don’t come
find me and I find out about it, I will heal just long enough to kick your
pretty butt. And why don’t you have a boyfriend yet? Trust me, life is too damn
short, chick. I’m a Chief Engineer with a doctorate, we know these things.”

I open my eyes very wide and look all around the room. “Mom,
is that you? How did you get aboard?” I turn and yell over my shoulder, “Doc!
Come quick! Mack is channeling my mother!” She looks up at me with a slightly
frosted gaze.  Her eyes bore into me with laser-like intensity; I literally
shiver and go back to behaving myself.

“I only ask because I care,” he says.

“I know. And I’m still unattached by choice. Primarily
because I’m looking for more on the ‘friend’ side than the ‘boy’ side.  And for
the record I have several boyfriends.  They have boyfriends also, but that’s
beside the point.”

I go back to the LEO and learn as much as I can about
what was done in dry-dock and what still needs attention.  I find the Captain’s
timetable in my inbox.  Oh boy.  I call Aria. “I don’t see any way I can meet
the Captain’s timetable.  I need to hire someone to backfill me.  Three sets of
hands can run this division. Two can’t, not for any length of time.”

“That is not an issue,” Aria tells me.  “Doctor Sinnair and
the Captain have already taken steps to remedy that shortcoming.  We have an Engineer
in TMOD, one Virginia Berry. The doctor is bringing her out of stasis as we
speak.  She will be at your disposal within seventy-two hours.  She was cargo,
now she will be crew. 
Night Searcher
will leave dry dock in two hours.”

A Minimal Life Function Transit Module, or TMOD, is a way of
traveling in suspended animation.  The passenger is kept alive but only
barely.  They don’t need to breathe as much, they don’t eat or drink.  The
manufacturers say it’s a very safe way to travel and for the colonial ships, it
makes a lot of sense.  An entire colony can be moved from one planet to another
without having to also carry food and water to support them.  It’s too close to
dead for my personal tastes.  What I have trouble understanding is why they put
her in cold storage rather than just throw her off the ship; maybe for just
such an emergency as this.

Right on time the ship slips her mooring and easily glides
to a parking orbit.  Once she is fully loaded we leave Earth for Neptune with
stops at Goliath and Atlas en route.  I haven’t been to any of those worlds. 
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve green lighted the bridge for Transit,
but for me it’s still an adventure, even though the new has worn off, now that
the scope of my job is expanding.

Atlas was the second home of
Dreaded Knight
and by
extension Peter Scholnich.  Maybe I can find a set of PeteArmor in a museum or
something.

Gorb bounds into the LEO later.  “I mished you Shownya. Were
you on a trip?”

“Hi, buddy. I missed you, too.  I have a chocolate bar,
would you like half?” Without waiting for his answer, I pull the candy from my
sleeve pocket and break it in half.  I hand him the bigger piece and wrap up
the remnants and return it to my pocket. “Matter of fact,” I tell Gorb, “I did
take a trip. I went to see my uncle in Scotia, then spent some time at the
beach.  Did you do anything fun?”

“Yum smack-smack candy! Thank you. I was busy working. I
built a laser sight for Mr. Freddie’s shotgun.  But I hid the dot, hee hee
hee!” 
I hope that means he used an infrared laser.  If not, I’m sure I’ll
hear about it.

“I’m sure Freddie will like that.  Have I shown you the
specs for the armor Mack asked me to work on?” The pressing of a few buttons
orders the holoCom to display the specs on the wall monitor.  “They want
something stronger but lighter with a few more gee-whiz things.  My biggest
concern right now is cooling and power conservation.  The heads up display is
going to suck down a lot of juice all by itself.  And the ballistics computer
that can calculate aiming points for distant or indirect targets. I don’t know
of one small enough and durable enough to fit the bill.”

“Armor protects friends! Gorb will help!”  Gorb’s brow
wrinkles as he studies the diagram.  “If you will allow me, I will work on the
power transformer. Perhaps it drains the primary coupler too hard.” In a flash,
his brow relaxes. “Gorb will help!! Yummm, Shownya brought good candy!!!
Wheeeeeeee!”  He picks his feet up and spins around in the chair.  He’s happy. 
I wish I could feel joy like that.  He’s a great right arm.  I understand why
Mack keeps him around.  He helped me learn the engine systems at light speed. 
I would never have been able to get where I am without him.  He stops suddenly,
“And the F37 Battle Comp should do what you need.”

I know I have a lot of stuff to tend to, but before I get
sidetracked I contact Freddie. “That Jack fellow I introduced to you, did you
hire him?”

“Yep, he’s on board. Good eye, girl. He’s a crackerjack
troop. I’m gonna ask the old man for a referral bonus for you. He’s in…where
are you…there you are. He’s in D-23, not far from you. He wanted to see you,
but I told him to leave the girls alone until they call him. Courtesy, you
know.”

“Thanks for the potential bonus, but I’m just looking out for
my buds.  I figure if you have the good guns behind you to keep you safe, the
two of us can hang out and pick up guys together.”  He’s my friend; I can’t
just make it nothing.

“Me? Pick up guys with you? Yeah, that might happen…in a
parallel dimension.  I have standards and an image to protect. Besides the
grapevine says you have a lot on your plate right now.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in a place I can talk about it yet. 
Speaking of grapevines, I hear you got promoted, squat leader or something. Congratulations.”

“Platoon sergeant.  But it would be ‘squad’ with a ‘d’, like
in ‘dimwit’ or ‘dingbat.’  Yeah, I did. Thanks. Deputy Chief Sergeant if you
want to get picky.  Someone must be happy with the way I do business.” I can
hear the smug rascal grinning.  “And I don’t recall asking for your permission
to recommend anybody for anything. Carry on, squatter.”

“Later, pillow biter.”

When I’ve done what needs doing for the day, I go knock on
the door to Stateroom D-23.  To my surprise, a woman answers the door. “Yes?
Who are you?  What do you want?”

“Oh! Hi, I’m Sonia.”
I guess he’s found another kitty to
scratch.  Damn, I was looking forward to a good romp from time to time
. “I
was going to say hi to Jack.  We met back on Earth, just tell him…” I can’t believe
how fast it happens.

The bitch lunges at me, reaching for my throat.  I backpedal
like crazy. What is her problem? I windmill my arm at hers, pushing her to one
side. She reaches for me again.  Her fingernails scratch my cheeks and neck.
She gets one, then her other hand, around my throat.  She starts squeezing.  I
hear a roaring in my ears. My tongue feels thick in my mouth.  My knees
buckle.  “Stay away from my man!” she screams over and over. It seems like
hours, but it’s probably only seconds before her hands leave my throat. Aria
has seized her by the arm and slammed her into the bulkhead.  Aria doesn’t have
a hair out of place.  She holds the banshee by the wrists.  The banshee
continues to struggle until Aria squeezes her hands, bending the bitch’s wrists
in one of the directions they aren’t meant to go. She calms down.  Two security
officers arrive and take the woman from Aria.  The security men click handcuffs
closed behind her.  Aria helps me to my feet.

I cough a few times and focus on the woman struggling
against being bound. “What is your problem, bitch?”  I take my gaze from her to
Aria. “If anybody is looking for me, I’ll be in the LEO.”  I’m not hurt, just
embarrassed. And more than a little pissed off. I’d just like to know what I did
to deserve that.  I’ve been called many things, but “home wrecker” is not among
them.  I’m hurrying away, almost running.  I hear Aria speak as she quickly
catches up to me.

“Do not concern yourself, Sonia,” she tells me, putting a
hand on my cheek. “Delford brought his girlfriend aboard, but she is going to
get spaced if she does not start behaving. I would not give her another
thought, dear one. That woman spelled trouble from the day she came aboard.
Sergeant Call convinced the Captain to bring her on with Delford. I opposed
it.  It looks like I owe the Captain an ‘I told you so.’  Perhaps you should
stop by Med Bay? I am certain you could convince Dr. Took to give you a quick
evaluation. I will tell Gorb you have been detained.”  That is hands-down the best
advice I’ve heard in quite a while.  I can’t even speak. I just nod.  I feel my
throat tightening.

I am okay for the walk to Med Bay.  But when the door closes
behind me, Avi can’t even finish a sentence before I wrap my arms around him
and start crying into his shoulder.  I feel him tense up, but soon I feel one
arm circle my waist and another start rubbing and patting my shoulder.  Through
many false starts I tell him what happened.  He turns into “Doctor
Professional” and examines my face and neck.

“Some scratches, a little bruising, but no significant
trauma,” he reports. The regenerator whines as it knits the scratches on my
skin.  In the mirror I see it’s a little pink, but no breaks in the skin.

“You are overlooking my pride,” I say with a pout.

“I suppose I am. Would you care to join me in the lounge for
a nightcap? Doctor’s orders, if it makes a difference.”  His hands are in the
pocket of his scrubs and his soft eyes look at me expectantly.

“That sounds good.  Where’s a sink? I need to wash my face.” 
Avi looks over my shoulder.  I follow his gaze to a basin.  Between my tears
and the water, what little make up I had on quickly swirls down the drain.  I
look around and find one of those toothpaste samplers and brush my teeth. I
hate tear-breath.  The eye puffiness soon goes down a little too.

It takes Avi a few minutes to close out his shift log.  He
doffs his scrub shirt and drops it in a hamper.  He replaces it with a clean
one from a cabinet.  In just the tank top he’s pretty impressive, very well
defined. We head to the lounge together.  When we get there, he orders us a
pair of beers and we start chatting.  “So what did you do on leave?” he asks.

“I met my uncle in Scotia.  We caught up on family stuff. 
He taught me a bit about batteries and power systems.”

“That’s wonderful, sounds like it was a lot of fun.”

“How was your trip to Siberia?  I tried to call you from
Lemuria.”

“My trip was pretty uneventful, but relaxing and peaceful.
Mom did her usual charity work at the local slave camps. We ate a lot of
home-cooked food and listened to some good music.  I hate I missed your calls. 
We were just inside the arctic circle in one of the last dead COM zones on the
planet.”

“And, by the way, why didn’t you tell me Dr. Traynor is your
mother?  I felt sort of ambushed when I heard it from Aria.”

He looks at the tabletop.  He’s embarrassed, like he’s been
caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  “I don’t know, I was afraid you might
think less of me?  Are you angry with me about that?”

“I’ll get over it.”  I don’t want to fight with him; it’s
time to change the subject.  “I’m told that the volunteer stuff is actually
more gratifying than the ‘for pay’ stuff.  Like you’re actually giving
something of yourself.”  As Avi opens his mouth to answer, I screw up my
courage. “So, do you have a girlfriend?”

He stops, his mug halfway between the table and his mouth. 
He slowly sets it down and stares at me.  I’m getting ready to panic when he
finally says, “As it happens, I am currently unattached. I do have my eye on a
certain red-haired engineer to fill that position.  Do you know if she might be
available?”