Stepping Up (29 page)

“Move in as you must. Have the robots release the disk two
meters inside. I will take it from there.”

I drop to all fours and crawl through the door. Gwen needs
only to bend over slightly. The HAZBOTs enter, one backing in with the disk
between them.  Two meters in, they stop and lower the disk to the soft sand of
the interior.  According to my armor’s sensors, the temperature is comfortable
by human standards.  But ice is still caked on the HAZBOTs and the fur of
Gwen’s hood.  The room is huge. The pyramid is a single chamber with
complicated objects resembling stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Each one
covered with very intricate runes or hieroglyphs.  Gwen walks to one of the
lower ones and locks her hands around it. Yellow light flows from her hands
through a network of channels on the walls.  The disk levitates to the “ceiling”
and nests in an alcove that looks made for it.

I feel a sense of movement.  I look at the sandy floor and
see drag marks extending from my boots forward.  I am being moved to the door
by an unknown, irresistible source. Gwen hasn’t moved. “I’ve done what you
asked!” I shout, “I brought you the disk.  Release the girl!  All we want to do
is leave. You said if we brought you the disk you would release the girl!”

“The word I used was ‘may.’  I have decided against it. You
are no longer needed. Begone!”

There is a rumble as if twenty generators and their engines
ignite under the pyramid. Gwen remains with her hands on the stalactite
instrument. I am whisked through the door and land out in the snow.  The
HAZBOTs fly through the door as well.  I have to roll to one side or risk them
landing on me.  The ice around the pyramid begins to fissure and crack.

The pyramid in its entirety slowly lifts skyward. Now we see
that the ‘building’ is the bow of a gigantic cruiser. The ship erupts out of
its frozen prison like a dagger emerging from a crystalline scabbard.

All I can think to do is scream. So that’s what I do. I
scream her name.

Over my headset I hear Shawna, “
Night Searcher
,
Mission Launch two.  Do you see the enemy ship lifting from this location?  We
need that nuke strike you mentioned.”

 “We see it. Are any of our people aboard the ship? Any
location idea? I doubt our missiles would affect that ship.” That damned
android is arguing! We are the people on the ground, she told us to call for a
nuke strike if we needed one; why is she arguing?

The ship clears the planet surface on its way to orbit. It
is at least a 100,000-ton cruiser, black and sleek.   It is easily five times
the size of
Night Searcher
.

Sherri answers Aria.  “Gwen is aboard.  Launch two is RTB.”

I turn off my comms and speak at the receding cruiser, “Take
care of yourself, baby.”

I’ll never know if I really heard
“I love you, Mommy”
but just in case, I think back “I love you, too.”

I turn my comms back on.  Sherri is barking orders at the ground
crew:  “Pack it up.  Jonesy, recover what you can of the robots. Anya, help
him.  We’re going back to the ship.”  She uses the armor’s jumping rig and
lands beside me, helping me to my feet.  “Come on Boss, we have a hop to
make.”  Our suits lock together at the hip.  She wraps my arm around her waist
and her arm around my shoulder.  Her suit issues commands to my suit to jump. 
We make two bounds and land at the launch.  I allow myself to be fastened in.

“She hurt?” Jones asks.

Sherri answers, “She’s a little fucked up right now.  She’ll
be okay.  You’ve seen it.”

“Roger that, little Boss.”

“Bend over. I got your ‘little Boss.’”

In moments, the launch lifts to rejoin
Night Searcher
.

I can’t stand it.  I strip my armor off, slinging the
pieces wherever they may go.  If I had an energy weapon, I’d probably be
putting holes in the hull.  I let it all out.  Tears, shrieks, probably saliva
and mucus as well.

One of the Troopers, still in armor, stands in front of me. 
Voice modulators weren’t necessary.  But they were cheap, available, and in the
right circumstances useful.  The metallically-filtered and completely
unrecognizable voice says: “Do you need to hit something that won’t break?” 
You
know it!
Whoever it is makes token resistance, moving enough to dissipate
the force of my blows.  Not to protect themselves, but me.  If I were to
connect solidly with that armor as hard as I’m swinging, I would probably break
something in my hands or arms.  I punch until I’m tired, then the armored
Trooper feigns a swing at me.  It’s not going to connect, but it reawakens
enough in me to beat on it some more.  I collapse, physically and emotionally
exhausted.  The Trooper carries me to the entrance of the flight deck, pushing
me gently but unceremoniously into the copilot seat.  Shawna reaches across me
and clicks my safety harness shut.  I sit fitfully for the rest of the trip. 
We are on final approach to
Night Searcher
when Sherri taps me on the
shoulder.  She has my flight suit in hand.  “You may want to put this on,
Boss.  We can’t have the Chief Engineer traipsing around in a onesie on the
small craft bay now, can we?” I look into the passenger area.  They have all
gotten out of their armor and back into their own clothes.

Oh Lords, not only did I have a breakdown, I did it in my
underwear.  I hope there were no cameras running.
  “Uh, thanks.”  I stand
and pull my coveralls on.  There’s no point in taking the undergarment off. I
look back into the cargo compartment.  Even though it’s accommodating for
gender on the inside, from the outside all suits of the armor look the same. 
“Which of you three let me beat myself stupid against them?”

“Ma’am?” Anya replies innocently.

“What d’you mean?” Jones asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief.” Sherri
replies.

I look at Shawna.  She meets my gaze. “Yeah, it’s like
that.  What happens on the cutter stays on the cutter.  But between you and me,
I think it was the one in the white and gray armor.”

“They’re all white and gray.”

She makes a show of looking back into the cargo area. “Well,
I’ll be.  So they are.”

I’m betting against Anya, solely based on her unfamiliarity
with the armor.  That leaves Sherri and Jonesy, but unless someone confesses,
I’ll never know.

Once we get back aboard, I plan to head down to the armor
lab and start cranking out more of the prototype armor. I’ll tell Viggo to go
clean an engine or something because I need busy hands.  At least, that was my
plan until Aria greets us on the flight deck.  “We are pursuing the ship.
Captain Prowse’s desire was to take Gwendolyn back to the Academy of Ancients,
(a psionic research facility on Atlas.) He never gave an order countermanding
that.  Therefore, it is now our mission to pursue and recover her until
successful or ordered otherwise.  The cruiser is heading to Transit space,
certainly to Transit. We have some of the footage from your helmet cameras and
have been feeding the data to Captain Prowse’s mind. We have been able to
deduce a likely course.  And we are in pursuit.  There will be a full briefing
in the bridge conference room in an hour.” She looks directly at me and adds,
“If that is convenient?” 
What the Gehenna? She’s never asked me about a
briefing before. And she’s referred to him by name rather than office twice. 
She’s never done that.

“One hour. I’ll be there.”

Ginny falls in beside me as I walk towards the Conference
Room.  I look at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised. “Aria called me
directly,” she explains. “I asked if you were going to be here, she said yes,
but wouldn’t say why she wanted me to attend also.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”  We walk in. None of
the regular department heads are here, but I’m the only one with an assistant. 
I take my customary seat.  The Captain’s is, of course, vacant. Ginny leans
against the wall behind me.  Aria hands me a portable data unit.  We go around
the table, each department giving their report.  Ginny talks about the engines;
I talk about the mission to the planet.

“Chief MacTaggert, during your away mission there was
another incident, an assassination attempt.  During a department head meeting,
a chemical device containing a neurotoxin was exploded in the conference room. 
All crewmembers present, aside from the Captain, were killed.  His breathing
apparatus allowed him to survive, but only physically.  Dr. Traynor, who was
unable to attend the meeting, states the toxin is slowly killing him.  The
memory unit I gave you contains Captain Prowse’s instructions. In a nutshell,
as the senior surviving department head, you are in command until we pick up
our replacement Captain in the Ramaris system. He was going to meet us in
sector 002, but as we have no idea where the cruiser is heading, he will wait
for us on Atlas. You can, of course, refuse the appointment. You should review
the chip first, and get back to me at your convenience. We plan to be in
Transit for six weeks on our current course. It looks like the cruiser is
heading for Lacus IV in the Elcan Sector.  Miss Berry, you will temporarily be
the lead engineering officer unless Chief MacTaggert refuses the appointment.” 
Ginny nods.

“Oh is that… Wait,
me
? ‘Captain?’ Odin’s eyebrow,
why? What in the worlds was he thinking? I don’t know anything about running a
starship!”
It’s too much! First Gwen, now this…I can’t process it all.
I
take a deep breath.  My inner voice calmly says “
No problem.
” I address
the room, “All right, I’ll accept the appointment provisionally. I’ll review
the chip, sleep on it, and get back to you with a firm answer in the morning.”

A man wearing a familiar face walks in. “Commander Malcolm
Rangee, Captain. First Officer.” 
I know that guy!

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Commander.  I’m going to
stay out of your business until I know the right questions to ask.  For the
moment, continue to do the great job you have been.”
And I’ll try to figure
out why I’ve been on this ship for over a year, half of that as a department
head, and I haven’t seen you since you gave me an aptitude exam.

“My first order as Captain:  Clear the room. I have some of
that ‘ears only’ crap for Aria.”

Rangee is the last one at the door.  “One question, sir:
Would the Captain like a daily status report, or daily meetings?”
Did he
just…wait. Starship captains are traditionally addressed in the masculine and
third person.

“We’ll reconvene here at 0900,” I answer.  “From there we’ll
develop a plan for going forward, presuming I decide to keep the appointment. 
First order of business:  I do not need to be—nor will I tolerate being—addressed
in the third person.  ‘You’ is an acceptable pronoun. And I prefer ‘ma’am’ not
‘sir,’ in fact I insist on it. I don’t care what tradition dictates.  I’m in
the hot seat now.  Dismissed.”  He nods and leaves. 
‘Dismissed’ came pretty
easily.  The Old Man must have had more of an effect on me than I realized. Was
he telepathically programming me for command when he was trying to undress me?
‘Imprinting’ was the word he used to describe it I think.

Once they are all gone, I sigh heavily and ask, “Is it time
to…dispatch the Captain?”

“Yes, I believe it is” Aria says.  “As you review the chip,
you will confirm that you are the person Captain Prowse wanted. As interim
commander, you will gain a new android assistant, Athena. She is also a Debi.
She has been in storage for fifteen years. I will talk to Chief Sunday in
robotics for waking her up.”

“Very well. We’ve got the rest of the Transit to get this
sized right.  Carry on.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Before you go, I can already feel this weighing me down… ”

“That’s why Commander Rangee and I are here, ma’am.  To
assist you and see that you do not carry this load alone.  The demands on a
starship captain are literally too numerous to mention.  If you attempt to do
it all yourself, you will burn out quickly.  I recommend you do just as Captain
Prowse did: assign tasks and verify their completion, not their execution.” 
In
other words, tell them what to do and stay out of the way while they are doing
it.

“I will need your help and advice.  And when it’s just you
and me, it’s ‘Sonia.’”

“As you wish, Sonia.”

I walk to Engineering.  Ginny is tying up some loose
ends.  I pick up the hand microphone for the intercom and ask her to meet me in
the LEO.

When she comes in, I’m sitting down, but not behind the
desk.  She looks at me, I gesture to the seat behind the desk.  “You were in
the same meeting I was.  You are Chief Engineer for the next twenty-four hours
or until I tell you otherwise, whichever comes last.”
At least I can give
myself some down time.

“As you wish, ma’am.”  She settles into the chair. “It
looked more comfortable from that side of the desk.”

“I always felt I spent way too much time in it.  I would
have preferred getting grease under my fingernails.  I could waste some breath
telling you about the team, but you already know all about the engine guys.
You’ll need to pull Viggo off the armor project and into the engine rooms. 
Complete dossiers are available on the others. You’ve spent more time with them
than I have over the past six months. So I don’t need to tell you anything.  If
you have any problems with the rest of the engineering teams, let me know.”

She gives me a level gaze.  “Yes, Captain. We’ve got it
under control.”

“I know.  I’ll tell you like I told the XO:  I’ll stay out
of your business until I need to get into it.  And you don’t want me in your
business, do you?”

“No, ma’am.” We smile at each other.  “I want you on the
bridge doing all that megacredit brouhaha.”

Back in my Stateroom, I review what’s on the chip. It
contains the Captain’s Living Will, and gives orders to terminate him if he
goes into a coma that doesn’t look promising. An Amulet is specifically
mentioned. It is stored in his stateroom in the safe, access code 00B23J9.
I
guess that means Gwen and…I guess that means
I
am moving again.
In a
video of himself, the Captain states specifically that Gwendolyn is to be
delivered to Master Durmund at the Academy of Ancients on Atlas, Southern
Lemuria, at all costs. “Sonia, understand this:  Gwendolyn
must
mature
in an environment with people that can help her control her growing psionic
abilities.  You must deliver her to Master Durmund.  There are no
alternatives. 
Night Searcher
and her crew are expendable in pursuit of
this effort.” 
Holy snakes.

There is a section about Gorb. He has a degenerative
cerebral illness, probably terminal, that no doctor has been able to diagnose,
much less treat. He is also to be terminated if it becomes unmanageable.

I have been willed the following:

The
Amulet

100
Million Credits (completely separate from
Night Searcher
’s treasury)

The
Captain’s badge of office, a microwire cutlass

Of
course, temporary command of
Night Searcher

Athena
(a DEBI model android)

Anya
and six other slaves: four women, two men. Bethany, Clarisse, Duncan,
Elizabeth, Frances and Taylor

The
Tome of the Ancients

After viewing the chip I walk down to the Medbay. It’s so
much to take in. Needa is working intake. Avi looks at me over her shoulder. “I
need a therapeutic, tension busting massage.  Can anyone here help me out?”

“As much as I hate to refuse,” Avi answers, “we are
conducting crew physicals. But I can think of two options. One: Tomorrow night
at twenty hundred, I’ll massage you for eight hours straight if you want, with
your permission, of course. Two: If you don’t want to wait that long, two of
your slaves, Clarisse and Duncan, are expert massage therapists.  I certified
them myself and heartily recommend them.”

“How did you…? Oh yeah, your mom was at my promotion.  I was
hoping for something a little more immediate.  I’ll let you know.”

Walking the halls still trying to take it all in, I find
myself outside the lounge.  An old friend is walking in. “Johan, I need your
help.”

“Well of course, my pet, how can I help?” 
He hasn’t
heard. Excellent.

“Do you remember almost a year ago when you volunteered to
be my dearest friend? I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Well, let’s sit down and talk about it over a frosty mug.”

“No, I need you to come with me.  I promise I’m not setting
you up for anything bad.  But I can’t explain right here and now.  Do you trust
me?”

“I trust you completely. Lead on.”  I lead him to the upper
decks, which are fortunately, in my opinion, sparsely populated.  He does make
the occasional remark that I must be doing okay, being this far into “officer’s
country.”  I open an unlabeled door to my future stateroom and lock it behind
us.

“Isn’t this the…” He lets his question go.

“Don’t worry about that.  The commander and I are pretty
close.  If there’s any heat that is generated, I can handle it. You have
nothing to worry about.  Do you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you.  Now why am I here?”

“I need a massage, they are too booked up in Medical, and I
can trust you to keep your hands from going where they have no reason to be.”

“Is that all? Silly girl, you could have told me that in the
bar!  You’re right of course.  I took a class in therapeutic massage a few
years ago.  Have you any oil?”