A Just Determination (15 page)

"I know. The cardinal sin. Dammit, I thought Chief Imari would take care of the spaces!"

"Paul, Chief Imari isn't your servant. She's got plenty of her own responsibilities. If you never indicated to her that you placed a priority on making sure your spaces were ready, why should she worry about it?"

"But—"

"But nothing. You can't put any of your jobs on automatic and expect Chief Imari, or any other enlisted, to do them for you. You have to show an interest and be involved." Tweed shook her head, her face reflecting past miseries. "Believe me."

"I do."

"This hurts worse, you know."

"What hurts worse?"

"The times you get chewed out and you really deserve it. They hurt a lot more than a chewing out you don't deserve."

"I won't argue with that. Thanks, Jan."
It's funny. Most people on the ship think of Jan Tweed as a failed officer, just putting in her time until she gets out of the Navy and can find a place to hide forever from the Commander Garcias of the world. But she just gave me a constructive leadership lesson, and chewed me out in way I didn't even recognize as being chewed out until this instant. She could be ten times the leader Garcia is. Or I guess she could've been that someday, if she hadn't screwed up too much too early and been ridden too hard as a result
.

Chief Imari, when eventually found, expressed contrition for the state of the spaces and walked through them with Paul, noting specific items to be corrected no later than noon tomorrow. "Chief, I'll do another walk-through with you at noon, and if we spot anything that's been missed we'll have some time left to correct it."

"Good idea, Mr. Sinclair. Sorry again. We should have done this walk-through before the inspection."

"Right. Next time I'll make sure we do." He headed back towards officer's country, praying he wouldn't encounter Sam Yarrow, who surely had already heard of the inspection's disastrous outcome and would just as surely express mock sympathy while prying for any word or action he could use to dig Paul's hole a little deeper. Instead, he almost collided with Jen Shen.

She took one look at his face, then grabbed his arm. "This looks bad. Come and talk."

"Jen, I don't really—"

"Yes, you do. Whatever happened, we've all been there, Paul." A few moments later he was sitting in the port ensign locker, Jen hovering nearby and Kris Denaldo handling e-paperwork while keeping one ear tuned to the conversation. "What happened?"

Paul described the inspection, his lack of preparation, and its outcome. "Herdez went over those spaces like a Marine drill sergeant. She didn't cut me any slack at all."

"What'd you expect?"

"Well, hell, Jen. I've been busting my butt on stuff she assigned me to do. I thought, well . . ."

"You expected Herdez to give you some special treatment because you'd been doing extra work for her."

Paul flinched. "I guess that's right. Pretty dumb, huh?"

"Very dumb, even for an ensign."

"Thanks. But doesn't Herdez, well, owe me something for all that extra work? She must think I'm doing a decent job of it."

Jen laughed. "Oh, I remember when I was as young and innocent as you are now."

Kris Denaldo's eyebrows shot up. "Innocent? You?"

"I don't need any comments from you, Saint Denaldo. Okay, think carefully, Paul. We're talking about Commander Herdez here. If she likes the work you're doing, what does she do?"

Paul took a moment to think through the question, then grimaced. "She gives you more work."

"And harder work. Because that's how the XO thinks. She thinks that's a cool reward system. The more Commander Herdez likes you, the more work she gives you." Jen pointed toward Kris. "Case in point. Miss Perpetual Motion here. Look at her work-load. Commander Herdez must love her."

Kris Denaldo sighed. "I think it's gone beyond love. If I get any more duties assigned I'll assume she wants to marry me."

Jen chuckled, then swung down to hover at Kris' feet. "Oh, Ensign Denaldo, will you make me the happiest XO in the world and be my aide? All I can promise you is twenty-eight hours of work in every twenty-four hour period."

"Really?" Denaldo squealed like an infatuated teenager. "Oh, Commander! I don't know what to say!"

"Try 'Aye, aye, ma'am.'" Jen glanced at Paul as he started laughing. "Somebody's feeling better."

"You two are insane."

"So? It helps us cope with the wonderful lives we lead." Jen came back to perch near Paul, peering into his eyes. "Okay, so what have we learned?"

"Not to expect any favors from Commander Herdez."

"Because . . . ?"

"She figures riding me like an overloaded pack mule going straight up a mountain
is
doing me a favor."

"Very good. Kris, you got about an hour free anytime soon?"

"Uh, let's see." Denaldo checked her data link, then looked skeptically at Jen Shen. "How about half an hour? Forty-five minutes? That's it. Tops."

"Okay. Forty-five minutes it is. Paul, we've both been through this drill. You need those spaces to be immaculate tomorrow but you have to concentrate on the right kind of immaculate. Kris and I will do a run-through of your spaces and try to spot the problems the XO will fixate on so you can focus on fixing them."

"Jen. Kris. That's a real big favor. I can't ask—"

"You didn't," Denaldo pointed out. "We volunteered. Well, Jen volunteered both of us, but the principle's the same. You'd do the same for us, right?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Right. All for one and all that crap. Now will you please get out of here so I can get some work done?"

"Sure. Thanks. Jen, if there's ever anything . . ."

"Ask me that next time we're in port and I can't afford to buy any more drinks."

"You're on."

"Careful," Kris warned sotto voice, "or Smiling Sam Yarrow will start spreading rumors about you two."

Jen grinned nastily even as she shoved Paul out the hatch. "I doubt it. Ever since I threatened to break his arm unless he moved his hand real quick, Yarrow's invested too much time spreading rumors I'm a lesbian. Paul, we'll run you down after we've done our spot-check."

Paul's guts still seemed like they'd never unknot, but he felt a lot better nonetheless.
Live and learn. I just wish the learning could be a little less painful
.

* * *

"How'd the reinspection go?" Jan asked as Paul assumed the watch and slid into his chair.

"Good enough, I guess. The XO said it was 'acceptable' and Garcia didn't rip my head off."

"You can't ask for much more from a day, can you?" She grinned in an uncharacteristic display of happiness, then rubbed her hands. "Plus we get to fire off a burn on this watch. How long's it been since the
Merry Mike
maneuvered?"

"I can't even remember." Most of time they coasted. Every time the ship maneuvered, changing course and/or speed, it threw out signs that someone watching for ships could see. They could localize the
Michaelson
from such signs, though the longer the
Michaelson
remained silent after such maneuvers the greater the uncertainty such watchers would have of her current position. However, in order to intercept the intruder ship, they'd have to maneuver now. Paul checked his display, calling up the maneuvering information. Digits were counting off in one corner, showing the time remaining until the ship's thrusters pivoted her to a new heading and her main drives pushed her a little faster in the right direction. "Sweet."

"And simple. Mind if I take it?"

"Be my guest." Jan hadn't had to ask, since as Officer of the Deck she could assume any function of Paul's she wanted, but he appreciated that she didn't take advantage of that. Besides, the entire firing sequence of both maneuvering thrusters and main drive would be orchestrated by the ship's computers after they were given the go-ahead by the human watch standers. Pushing that single button would be a minor thrill, but one he was willing to let Jan Tweed experience.

Oddly enough, the pending maneuver made the first portion of the watch drag as they waited. At one hour prior to the maneuver Jan Tweed beckoned to the bosun mate of the watch, who raised his archaic pipe to his lips and shrilled out the ancient naval call to attention before making an announcement on the all-hands circuit. "All hands prepare for maneuvering in one hour. Secure all objects and materials. Undertake no task which cannot be completed prior to maneuvering." The message was repeated at the half-hour and quarter-hour points.

Five minutes prior, as the bosun was issuing his latest warning, Captain Wakeman entered the bridge. "Captain's on the bridge!"

Lieutenant Tweed saluted and indicated the main maneuvering display. "We are ready to execute our course and speed change, Captain."

"Right. Uh, how long?"

"In five minutes, sir."

"No, no, no. How long will the maneuvering last?"

Jan flushed. "Ten minutes, sir. As indicated on the display."

Captain Wakeman glanced at the indicated data, his face sour, as Commander Herdez arrived on the bridge. "XO, has this maneuvering solution been double-checked?"

Herdez didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir. Three times." She looked at Tweed. "I believe the watch has run a fourth check."

"That's correct, ma'am."

"Hmmm." Wakeman settled into his chair, fumbling with the straps. "Can this watch team handle it? Shouldn't we have our varsity up here?"

Paul felt himself flushing this time at Wakeman's casual public questioning of his competence, but Herdez shook her head. "This is a capable watch team, Captain. I'm certain they will execute the maneuver without any problem."

"All right. Let's get on with it, then."

Tweed signaled the bosun to issue the final advance warning at the one minute point, while Paul maliciously wondered if Captain Wakeman would mess with this maneuver in the hope of impressing unseen watchers.
I can't believe he asked that question about us being able to handle it right in front of us. What a jerk
.

Jan looked at him a moment after the thought and quirked a smile, causing Paul a sudden worry that he might have spoken his last thought out loud. But she simply pointed to the timer, where the final seconds were counting down. "It's not much fun when the maneuvering computer handles everything, is it?" she murmured. With a final glance to either side at the Captain and the XO, Tweed firmly pushed the approve button as the count hit zero.

Stresses jerked Paul against his straps as the maneuvering thrusters pushed the
Michaelson
's bow around to a new heading, then rolled the ship slightly to accommodate the human desire to align themselves heads-up within the solar system. A tiny object went flying past Paul as the force of the thrusters generated a partial equivalent to gravity. Without thinking, he flung out one hand and more through luck than design managed to snag the debris. He glanced at it, apparently a data chip misplaced during routine maintenance, then looked to see if anyone else had noticed and found the XO's eyes on him.
It figures she'd have seen it. I don't think Herdez misses anything
. He braced himself for a withering look, but instead the XO actually seemed amused.

The thrusters cut off, then shoved from the opposite side, slowing the
Michaelson
's bow with just enough force to halt the momentum of thousands of tons of mass and make the bow stop on the desired heading. A moment of silence and anticipation, then the main drives cut in, shoving everyone back in their chairs. Paul strained to pull in deep breaths even as the bosun whooped, "Yeee-hah!" After months of little or no gravity, the two g's of acceleration felt awful, but also exhilarating.

Now they were watching the time count down again. Paul's gaze switched between the digits showing burn-time remaining and the maneuvering display on which the marker representing the
Michaelson
and her course slid steadily onto the desired vector. The main drive cut off, and a few moments later the actual and desired vectors joined as one. Paul swallowed hard and gritted his teeth as his inner ears and stomach protested the many and varied changes in gravity conditions as well as the sudden return to zero g.

Lieutenant Tweed pivoted in her chair to face the captain. "Maneuvering completed successfully, Captain. The
Michaelson
is on course for intercept."

"Hmmm. Very well." Wakeman unstrapped himself, then moved away unsteadily.

"Captain's left the bridge!"

"Thank you, bosun," Herdez replied. "And next time we maneuver, try to restrain your enthusiasm."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

"Good job, Lieutenant Tweed." Herdez left even as Jan acknowledged the praise.

Tweed rubbed her neck. "Ahhh. So much for excitement." She noticed Paul staring intently at the maneuvering display. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering. Is it possible for a human to maneuver the ship anything like that?"

"Sure it is. Just like that. You just have to feel her motion, anticipate the right moments to kick in different thrusters, and not try to haul her around like a bag of bricks on the end of a rope. You don't look like you believe me."

"I'm sorry, but . . . the maneuvering system computers handle complex problems in a flash. How could any human do what they just did?"

"By feeling the ship. Look, you've been real straight with me, Paul, so I'll tell you a secret. If you promise not to tell anyone else." Paul nodded, frowning in puzzlement, as Jan tapped her display. "Here's the automatic ship's log for the maneuver we just completed. What's it say?"

"It says . . . it says the automated maneuver controls were disabled. The maneuver was controlled from—" Paul checked the words again in disbelief. "From the officer of the deck's watch station. You handled that maneuver? Manually?"

"Yeah. I disabled the automated controls beforehand. The maneuvering control relays are right here on the chair handles, so you can manipulate them easily while everyone else is staring at the displays."

"Geez. If Wakeman had found out—"

Tweed grinned nervously. "He won't. Not from you. Right?"