Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (24 page)

“They brought the bears a walrus?” Jolene persisted.

“Yes, a live, one and a half ton walrus,” said the almost gleeful Jacobs. “That’s what the big alert was when they scrambled the Marines a week ago.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Kato Kwan, another Marine. “We were all called on deck by the Commander to help ‘quell a disturbance’ at the polar bear quarters. There we were, running flat out towards a rumble with a herd of polar bears, with only stunners to defend ourselves.”

“What happened?”

“When we get there Lcdr. Curtis has us cordon off the polar bear quarters, from which is coming a godawful racket—growling and other sounds, like feeding time at the zoo. Once the area is secured, the Commander calls the Captain, who is, I shit you not, inside with the bears.”

“Man, there is no doubt about it,” said Ronnie, “the Captain has a pair of big brass ones.”

“Anyway, the Commander tells us to hold the perimeter and goes inside to join the Captain!”

“Shit, she’s got some brass ones too,” said Matt, with considerable respect.

Ignoring Jacobs’ comment, Kato continued his narrative. “So after about ten minutes, things quiet down and the Commander comes back out. I got a glimpse inside as she came out—the whole damn place was covered in blood, the polar bears too.”

“What happened to the walrus?” Jolene asked again, with growing apprehension.

“The polar bears ate it.”

“Ate it? As in, ate it alive?” Jolene shouted, her voice rising a couple of octaves. “You assholes fed the polar bears a live walrus!”

“Well, yeah,” said Joey. “They really liked it, they said so later.”

Jolene jumped up and stormed off making disparaging remarks about men having only shit for brains.

“Hey Joey,” Ronnie called to his friend. “You ain’t hitting that anytime soon, compadre.”

“
Beso mi culo,
Reagan. Like you got a shot.”

“Since none of you can fly a shuttle, I’m wondering how you dickheads managed to get an officer to go along with smuggling a live walrus onto the base,” asked Washington. According to the scuttlebutt, Washington was up for promotion to Sergeant, making him the leader of the new second squad.

“Joey convinced that new English shinny balls that we did it all the time,” said Hitch, with more than a little admiration in his voice. “We had a load of frozen seals, after all.”

“I understand that Lt. Lewis is on ice hauling duty until further notice,” Washington commented.

“And we get to play stoop-tag with the furry white hoards of the Arctic until the Commander gets tired of seeing us smacked around like chew toys,” said Jones.

“Come on, Bud,” said Kowalski, slowly easing himself into one of the chairs. “You gotta admit the whole caper was epic.”

“You know it, brother,” Bud said with a tired smile, limping off toward his rack.

Day Room, BOQ, Farside Base

The Peggy Sue’s two helmsmen, Billy Ray and Bobby, were in the sitting area of the base BOQ, the bachelor officers quarters. While all the ship’s officers were technically bachelors, the senior officers were all quartered elsewhere, making the BOQ the exclusive domain of the ship’s junior officers. They were conversing with Sandy McKennitt, one of the ship’s new lieutenants.

“So Bobby, what’s happening with you and that little Japanese sheila?” Sandy asked, always to the point.

“As far as I can tell, nothing,” Bobby opined. “Since we got to base I hardly get to see her. She’s always running from meeting to meeting with the other scientists. I even joined Dr. Saito’s Kendo class to get to see her.”

“Yup, and now the only time he sees his girl she’s wearing a wire basket over her face and trying to whack him with a bamboo sword,” added Billy Ray.

“Well, you can tell me to mind my own bizzo, but I think she fancies you.”

“How can you tell?” asked Bobby, hope rising.

“I don’t ever see her hanging out with any other bloke at the canteen, do you? Look Bobby, she’s the junior physicist and all the other science boffins got her going flat out like a lizard drinking. Trust me, she’ll have more spare time when we get underway.”

“I hope you’re right, Sandy.”

“Strewth! You’ll see, mate. A week after we raise anchor and you’ll be grinning like a shot fox.”

“That would be an improvement,” said Billy Ray, “now he’s more like roadkill on the highway of love.”

“And aren’t you the poet, B-ray,” Sandy responded. Sandy followed the Aussie habit of shortening first names, particularly if they had more than two syllables.

“In his dreams,” quipped Bobby. “Don’t encourage him or he’ll start reciting Shakespeare and Chaucer.”

“You’re just jealous, pardner. You know that the Captain often quotes a bit of the Bard on important occasions. I’m just stayin’ in practice for when I get a ship of my own.”

“Dream on, dude, dream on.”

Before Billy Ray could reply, Nigel Lewis entered the room. Obviously worn out, he tossed his tablet on the coffee table and practically collapsed into a chair, head hung from fatigue.

“G’day Nige, how ya going, mate?” asked the always perky Sandy. “Looks like the Captain’s got you as busy as a cat burying shit.”

“I’m not quite sure what you said, Sandy, but if you meant that the Captain is running my arse off you are spot on. I think I transported enough ice today to float a battleship.”

“I’ve done that ice run,” said Bobby, “it’s darker inside those ice craters than three feet up Satan’s asshole.”

“Right you are, Bobby,” Nigel replied. “In the future, if someone tells me to shove something where the Sun doesn’t shine I shall know precisely where to put it.”

“So tell me again, Nigel,” drawled Billy Ray, “why the Captain’s got you doin’ double duty on the ice run?”

“You bloody well know why, Mr. Vincent. It was that damned escapade with the walrus.”

“Goo goo g’joob,” Bobby replied.

“Koo koo kachoo?” Nigel said, confused.

“No, goo goo g’joob,” Billy Ray corrected. “
I am the walrus,
lyrics by John Lennon.”

“Right,” added Bobby, “koo koo kachoo would be Paul Simon, from
Mrs. Robinson
. Totally different thing, man.”

“I think you two have roos loose in the top paddock,” Sandy observed. Just then a couple of the new midshipmen, Skip Tanner and Pauline Palmer, came in, returning from a day at pilot training. Eventually destine to become pilots and ship’s officers they currently had the status of cadets—officers in training. The midshipmen’s quarters adjoined the BOQ lounge.

“Kangaroos and walrus? Are there things you Sirs aren’t sharing with we poor cadets?” asked Skip.

“Actually, there is an important lesson here for you soon to be junior officers,” Billy Ray said, causing Nigel to moan. “You see, when you become a shinny new lieutenant the enlisted personnel will find it necessary to test your mettle. In particular, they will present you with situations that require knowledge and wisdom beyond your tender years.”

“Billy Ray, please do not do this,” pleaded Nigel.

“A case in point recently occurred right here on Farside Base. It seems that a young lieutenant JG was tempted into wickedness by an unholy alliance of enlisted crew, Marines, and SEALs,” Billy Ray said, warming to his subject. “As is
de rigueur
for such tests of character, the situation presented to the young officer required a decision that seemed reasonable at the time. And though the officer in question should have checked with higher authority, hubris clouded his judgment.”

“So what transgression did Lt. Lewis get tricked into committing?” asked Pauline.

“Oh bollocks,” said Nigel, resigned to the telling of the tale.

“The young hero of our story was making a run planetside to pick up supplies, including several containers of frozen seals—food for the polar bears. The enlisted pranksters thought that it would be a great idea to bring back something fresher for their pals over in the bear habitat and had somehow acquired a live walrus. The trouble was how to transport the beast.”

“This was what the commotion was about at the bear quarters last week?” asked Sandy, who had not heard the full story.

“That is correct, Lt. McKennitt. To make a long story short, the crewmen convinced the young officer that transporting a live walrus up to the station was an everyday occurrence.”

“And how was I to know it was not SOP?” demanded Nigel. “A month before I ferried a shuttle full of live polar bears to the ship for the Captain. I had a shuttle filled with frozen seals, the bloody walrus didn’t seem out of place.”

“And there you see the lesson, Cadets. Like Beelzebub, the crew will offer temptations that seem reasonable yet will bring down the wrath of the Almighty—in other words, the Captain. Instead of taking a few minutes to check with the base, the young officer decided on his own authority to transport the 3,000 pound walrus in the shuttle he commanded.”

“Right, they really had me on, and when the Captain caught wind of it he gave me a royal arse chewing and then put me on ice shuttle duty for the foreseeable future,” finished the humiliated Nigel.

“But what happened to the walrus?” asked Skip.

“The crew gave it to the polar bears as a treat,” answered Bobby with a snicker. “Evidently the bears really appreciated the fresh food. As far as they are concerned, Lt. Lewis is a damned fine fellow.”

“You mean the polar bears killed and ate the walrus? How awful.” said Pauline.

“Come on, Pauli,” Sandy said. “You aren’t a veggie, are you?”

“A veggie?”

“A vegetarian. Because if you eat meat like most of us, every meal means an animal somewhere had a very bad day. That’s how nature works, and the polar bears are a lot closer to nature than we are.”

Billy Ray recited:

“Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation’s final law
Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shrieked against his creed.” 

“What?” said the confused Pauline.

“Alfred, Lord Tennyson,” said Billy Ray.

“Bloody walrus,” muttered Nigel.

Base Canteen, Farside Base

The normal after work group was seated at their usual table overlooking the atrium. Sally Li had joined Gretchen, Ludmilla and Elena, abandoning the company of her colleagues from the science section. She was seeking a discussion about something, anything, other than physics.

“So how is the polar bear training coming, Gretchen?” asked Elena. “I understand that they are treating the training as though it is a game.”

“Oh, to some extent,” Gretchen replied. “But polar bears treat most everything as a game. The only time I’ve ever seen Bear serious is when we lost comrades.”

“True, they are much less neurotic than most humans,” added Ludmilla. “Did I mention that Jack and I took the kindergarten children to visit the bears today?”

“Really? Why?” asked Sally. “Not that children wouldn’t enjoy seeing the bears up close.”

“It seems that a number of the mothers were upset by bears roaming free around the base,” said Gretchen. “I suppose they thought the bears might treat their little darlings as snack food.”

Ludmilla picked up the story, saying: “A delegation went and complained to the Captain a couple of days ago, and Jack decided that spending some quality time in the bear habitat would be the best antidote to such irrationality.”

“Why did you go? Or are you getting as bored with things around here as I am?” asked Elena. Once the star systems for their voyage had been decided on there was not much else for her to do. The other physicists were constantly tweaking the power reactor and pouring over gravitonic circuitry, but an astronomer without an instrument was at loose ends. She almost envied JT’s involvement with the ship’s armaments.

“Jack wanted me along in case one of the mothers fainted or had a hysterical fit,” Ludmilla replied snidely. “As it was, we did have an accident—one of the children fell into the pool.”

“How did that happen?” asked Sally, drawn into the tale.

“When we came in, some of the younger bears were sliding down a slope above the pool into the water. One of the children thought that this looked like great fun and decided to try it herself…”

* * * * *

The Captain met the kindergarten class and their mothers outside the bear habitat. Before the visitors arrived, Jack had explained to the bears that some of the little ones’ mothers were nervous about their offspring being around such powerful creatures as themselves. “These little humans are very fragile, even compared with a year old cub, so be careful,” he cautioned. “They are only going to be wearing heavy clothing, not armor like your playmates in the training gym.”

The males all indicated their understanding. The adult female bears—Isbjørn, Aurora, and Snowflake—understood such feelings immediately and helped explain the situation to the adolescents. Once the visitors donned their cold weather parkas, the class was ushered in by Ms. Muñoz, followed by a gaggle of nervous mothers.

“Children, I would like you to meet my friends,” Jack said, “this is Isbjørn, Bear, Aput, Tornassuk, Snowflake, Siku, Umky, Imik, Aurora and Inuksuk.” The bears all looked at the herd of small humans with closed mouth smiles, trying not to show any frightening dentition.

“Why are their names so strange?” asked one of the little boys.

“Their names are mostly in Inuit, a language spoken by people from the Arctic region. Our names are as strange to them as theirs seem to us. Everyone say hello to the bears.” The class responded with a chorus of hellos.

“Hello, children,” said Isbjørn, who had emerged as the lead bear for all things outside of combat training. In military matters she deferred to her mate, mostly.

“Why are they all different sizes?” asked a little girl in the front. “Are some of them kids?”

“Very perceptive,” replied Ludmilla, stepping up to stand in front of Bear. Once things on board the Peggy Sue settled down during the trip to the Moon base, Dr. Hofstadter and Ludmilla examined all of the bears. While checking blood types and drawing blood for future emergencies, she had learned all their names. “Umky, Imik, Siku and Aput are all youngsters. In bear terms they are all a little older than you are, but they are not full grown yet. When bears grow up the males are much larger than the females.”