The Apprentice Starship Engineer: Book One The Link (3 page)

Chapter 3: I’m not on a farm. It’s a starship

The
Armstrong
was pleasant. I looked up at the tall ceiling with its soft lighting, thinking to myself that the ship was a work of art. Margret helped me get back to the shuttle and pick up my “trash.” As she led me to my quarters, the
Armstrong
changed. The hallways were shorter, narrower. Appearing more utilitarian, reminding me of servant quarters.

“Margret, are you sure you’re going in the right direction?”

“Yes, your quarters are just down the hall. Here we are at men’s dorm F,” she said.

The door slid open as I approached with my heavy bag. I fought it through the doorway. Several young men looked up at my noisy arrival. They were older than me. A few had hair on their faces, others had tattoos and piercings. Most had long hair. Everyone stared at me as Margret led me on a tour of my living module, starting with the comfortable dayroom and its attached study. The shared the bathroom and showers. She informed me it was a men only dorm, although several women were lounging on the couch. On one side of the room were eight sleeping tubes—four on the bottom and four on the top, each was four feet high, eight feet deep and six feet wide. The doors had locks on them, and Margret gave me my code. I opened the door. Mitch had left me a mess of dirty clothes, towels, linen and garbage.

Someone commented from across the room, “Our Mitch was a bit of a pig, but I’ve seen his tube a lot worse.”

“Hey, kid, we have cleaning supplies in the closet,” another man said.

It took me an hour to tear it apart, stuffing the dirty laundry into the wash and filling the recycle bins with Mitch’s trash. At five, Johnny, a man with a beard and nose ring, smacked me in the arm and said it was time for dinner. He led me into the dining room. After picking up a plate of food, I followed him over to a table of men from our dorm. I sat next to Johnny.

“Mealtime on ship is staggered. The dining room isn’t big enough to hold everyone at once. This is our dining room, and we share it with the other eight dorms. If you miss mealtime, you can always stop in and get something. It’s always open,” Johnny said.

After everyone settled down, a man stood. He had a scruffy beard and flowery print shirt. “My name is Bill, and as the self-appointed head of F dorm, I wish to confirm that Mitch was dumped on Mars. We now have a new dorm mate, Drake Wilson,” he said in a loud voice. Every one stared at me, and my face heated.

“So, Drake, allow me to introduce you to everyone. I’m Bill Lawson. I’m a physics major. I’ll be studying the stars we pass. This is Sam Myers. He has a masters in physics and minor in astronomy. On my left is Johnny Rodman. He’s a biologist, and is looking for planets that might have life on them. Victor Clemens, another biologist. Rich Pierce, Danny Martin and Roy Mason are geologists.” The men all nodded as he introduced them.

“Now, Drake,” Bill continued, “tell us about yourself.”

I looked around the room. Everyone was in their mid-twenties or older. They had at least a four-year degree. Who was I? Nobody.

“I’m an apprentice starship engineer,” I said.

“Oh, like Mitch. Do you think you’ll last?” Bill asked.

I got it. This was all for fun at my expense. I looked at Bill. “Hope so. I don’t want Jack throwing me off on an asteroid,” I said with a laugh. Most of them at least smiled at my joke.

After dinner, I put my stuff away in my tube. It was pretty tight. Margret reminded me that I had agreed to go to G-four and meet Brice. I looked around, pulling out flip-flops, an orange shirt with a picture of a Mars rock that was supposed to be a face and a pair of shorts. In the bathroom I stopped at a mirror, tied up my hair in a tail and thought about getting a tattoo.

Margret let out a soft whistle. “What a hunk,” she said.

I laughed. “Thanks, Margret.”

After stepping out of the dorm, I stopped in my tracks, “Ah, Margret, can you give me directions?”

“Yes, dear, turn left,” she said. I followed her directions as she led me to a transport that shot me across the ship. 

I stood at the door to G-four and realized that without Margret, I’d be lost. G-four was a sterile room with a small bar. A few pictures had been taped to the walls, a pool table sat on one side and several of the lighting panels had been disconnected. The room was crowded with people who looked young, but with regeneration, no one could tell anyone’s age anymore. I saw Brice, who was waving at me from a table in the corner.

Brice had saved a chair for me, and several girls sat with him. One of them was talking about finding water on terrestrial bodies. She was real pretty. Perfect would be a good word for her. Blonde hair flowed down her back in little curls. She had a perfect tan and straight white teeth, and a great complexion. Even her hands were pretty.

Brice bought me a beer as the girl kept lecturing us about water and how to find it. If she wasn’t so pretty, I bet everyone would have just gotten up and left her talking.

She finally took a breath, and I said, “That’s interesting. My parents own a farm on Mars, and water is a major concern. We’re always looking for it. My grandpa helped us find a great well. We hit a geo thermal one at about one hundred meters.”

She looked surprised. “Where did you drill?”

I pulled out Margret. “Margret, show us the terrace, project it on the wall,”

“Yes, sweets.”

“Thanks, Margret.”

“Where did you get that assistant?” another girl asked from across the table.

“Ship stores.”

“Drake, that’s Jenny. She’s the one who set up Margret,” Brice said.

“I can’t change her back,” Jenny said.

I looked at her and shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m getting to like her. Yeah, I like her. She’s just fine.”

“I’m Tammy,” the girl who’d been talking about water said.

“Good to meet you, Tammy, Jenny.” I moved the pointer to a place just north of the terrace dome, and said, “That’s where we found it. A geo-thermal well.”

“Why did you drill there? I did several papers on where water would be found on Mars, and no one would waste time drilling where you did,” Tammy said.

“Grandpa said drill there.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

I shook my head as well. “Grandpa is a water witch. He used divining rods.”

She leaned back from the table. “That’s stupid superstitious bullshit!”

“You asked. You can check. It’s registered as the Wilson geo-thermal well. For the method it’ll say other.”

“Oh, I will. You can bet on that,” Tammy said.

“These are the wells in the area where all the operating wells say method of discovery as other,” Margret said.

“Yeah, that’s how Grandpa has them reported—other for method of discovery.”

“Thirty-seven wells in the area are listed other as the means of discovery,” Margret said.

“I think all the wells were discovered by Grandpa.”

“This is just shit talk. I‘m going,” Tammy said. She got up and stalked out of the room.

Jenny laughed. “That was funny. I don’t care if your story was made up or true. I’m just sick of hearing about water every night. Thanks for shutting her up.” She raised her glass.

I finished my drink. “Sorry, Brice, got to go. Jack wants me at it at five. Thanks, hope we’ll do this again soon.”

* * * *

Margret awakened me in a daze. I sat up and smacked my head on the inside of my tube. I hadn’t slept well, and kept dreaming I was inside a coffin. I climbed out and found several of my roomies were sleeping on the couches and floor. Guess I wasn’t the only one who felt cramped in a tube.

“Drake, by the shower is a locker that has your work uniform, boots and safety glasses. You’re required to wear your uniform. Sorry,” Margret said.

After taking my shower, I pulled out the ugly brown coveralls and work boots. The coveralls were sad. They had pockets all over and my name printed on the left breast. I’d never worn coveralls in my life. Dad had tried to get me into a pair once, but I rejected them. No way was I going to wear that stupid-looking gorilla suit. I swallowed hard and climbed into the rag, avoiding looking into any mirror.

I staggered into our mess hall, grabbed a stack of donuts and two cups of coffee. I balanced them on a plate. Margret give me directions to maintenance. The halls were empty at four thirty in the morning ship time. Good thing or I might have spilled the coffee. She led me down a hallway past store rooms to a set of double wide doors. The sign read, Restricted area maintenance. Ship personnel only. On the wall was a palm reader. I placed my hand on it, the lock snapped and the door slid open.

The room was dark. I was the first to arrive. I stepped inside, and the lights came on, illuminating the clean shop. To the left was a room crowded with electronic test equipment. Ahead was a conference room, and to the side a nice office. I took the coffee and donuts into the conference room, then wandered through the others. Going to the right I found workbenches and two replicators. Everything was neat and clean, except one bench that was covered with tools and junk. I sighed. Well, I’d found my work area.

I jumped at the sound of the lock releasing. Jack entered, carrying a thermos of coffee in one hand and tablet in the other. “Good, you’re early. I like that. Clean that pile of shit up,” he said, heading toward his office.

It didn’t take long before I had a stack of coffee cups for the mess hall. I put all the tools away, adding the screw driver and wrench I’d found in my tube. As I worked, I heard the door lock snap again. I looked up as another man entered. He’d been sitting next to Jack on the shuttle.

He walked over and shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t want to clean up that mess. Name’s Bob.” He stretched out his hand.

I stood and clasped it. “Drake. Nice to meet you.”

“Where you from, Drake?”

“Mars, born and raised. And you?”

“Earth, New York. We left when I was ten.”

“The Yankees. Did you see them play?”

“No baseball. I was too young.”

“Ah, too bad. I hate the Yankees, but I’d love to see a game in person.”

“You have this looking passable. Let’s see what we have going today,” Bob said.

I followed him to the conference room as the door snapped again. A tall, thin woman with a tight bun of hair on her head lifted her nose in salute as she passed us. Without knocking, she barged into Jack’s office and then closed the door.

Bob laughed. “That little firecracker was Stella Sterling, our boss, or better yet, Jack’s boss. Ah, donuts and coffee. I’ll show you around. Those two will be at it for a while.” He continued dropping crumbs as he spoke. “One of them professors wants his shower temperature turned up. We have rules for just about everything, and his temp is as hot as they’ll allow. Stella is non-union, and can’t touch our equipment, except during the worst disaster. Truth is, if she played with stuff, we’d have one. Shower temp don’t sound like much, but to turn his up we’d have to turn it up for one fourth of the ship. If someone got burned with the hot water, the company would be sued. Company would find out that Jack and I had broken the rules. That would be the end of our careers. No way are we going to turn his heat up.” He toured me around, stopping in the electronics area. “You’re off to a good start, bringing donuts and coffee. That’s what apprentices should do.”

Bob had me make parts in the replicators while he worked on equipment at his bench. When Stella stalked out, she didn’t even give us the nose salute. Jack came out with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked as if he’d taken a beating. He nodded at me as I started the replicator and then went over to my work area. He went through the box, checking every drawer.

He looked me, and said, “You check the tool list. If you’re missing any tools, go ahead and replicate them. Get your tools together now while you have the time.”

After morning break, Bob had me follow along to work on an intermittent transporter. He had me plug Margret into the control panel and run a diagnostic program. Everything checked out fine so he had me take it for a ride. As he looked over my shoulder, he showed me how the different parts worked. I could see the processor’s output for speed direction and opening and closing the door. We stopped at a section, and a young woman stepped in. I just glanced at her, but was aware she was nice-looking.

She looked at the back wall of the transport and sighed, “That’s wrong, dam it,” she said.

Bob looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”

“They have the wrong time on my flyer.”

Bob and I looked at the display screen that covered the back wall. It advertised a self-defense class for beginners at sixteen hundred. “Well, ma’am, this is your lucky day, as we’re the people who can fix this disaster. What time would you like it to display?”

“Eighteen hundred. Your shift ends at sixteen hundred. That would give you enough time to make it to my class.”

“Yeah, if I wanted to I could. Do you want us to change your display?”

“Yes, that would be fantastic.” She looked straight at me. “Come to my class. It’ll be fun.”

She had a bright smile, and appeared excited and happy. Did I mention she was pretty? “Of course. At eighteen hundred Monday, Wednesday and Friday,” I said, probably with a stupid grin on my face.