Bud Brewster Galactic Fleet Admiral (site admin)
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Joined: 14 Dec 2013 Posts: 17148 Location: North Carolina
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Posted: Sun Sep 04, 2016 9:09 pm Post subject: Sail the Sea of Stars - chapter 8 |
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CHAPTER 8
HEROES REWARD
Galactic stellacruisers like the Candlelight are undeniably plush, especially by the standards of military vessels in the past. Junior crewmen share twelve-man cabins, but they're large enough to give each man a little space of his own. Junior grade officers (like me) share four-man cabins. The higher a man's rank, the fewer his roommates.
The captain has private quarters, naturally, and they are substantially larger than anyone else's. Captain North's quarters were comprised of a bedroom, a bathroom, and a combination office-and-living room.
Four minutes after leaving the bridge, I found myself in the office of the captain's cabin, standing at attention, having my hide figuratively peeled off.
"The gall! The unmitigated nerve! To jeopardize this ship and everybody aboard it while you joked around with the ship's computer!"
I felt myself swaying involuntarily as his tangible wrath broke over me like sea waves. After a moment of silence North said, "Well?" I realized it was my turn to speak. I tried to swallow, but that required a little saliva, and I didn't have enough to wet a wisdom tooth.
"Sir, I'm very sorry about — "
"You said that already! I want an explanation, Mister, not a boot-licking."
"Oh. Well . . . uh . . . I felt that the Beltherian ship's log would be instrumental in convicting the — "
"Nonsense!" he snapped. "It was just standard procedure. Having that log will help, but we certainly didn't need it that badly. Sweet Mother Nature, son, we had less than two minutes left when you and Chief Sandusky got to the airlock. We made it to a safe distance with nothing — repeat, nothing to spare!"
"Uh, yes Sir. I'm very sorry — "
"Watch it!"
I closed my mouth so fast I heard my teeth snapped together. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it just sat there like a second set of tonsils. So I tried a new strategy.
"Sir, I'd like to state for the record that Chief Sandusky objected strenuously to my — "
"Very noble, Mister," interrupted North, "but the chief gets a tin can tied to his tail as soon as I'm through with you." There was no point in reminding North that I outranked the chief. In combat situations the chief non-com out-ranks all non-combat officers.
"Aye, Sir."
"You and the chief made the same rookie mistake. You both trusted a damaged ship's computer when it gave you an estimate of the time until the melt-down. That was stupid, Mister Newcastle, especially for my alleged computer expert. Criminally stupid."
Captain North paused for a moment, his pale blue eyes drilling holes into me. Suddenly his anger seemed to renew itself. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, so help me I'll resign my commission for the privilege of personally wringing your . . . arrrggh!" he literally growled, trailing off when he became too angry to speak.
It slowly dawned on me that part of his anger was caused by his reluctance to discipline me. Even though I'd endangered the ship, I'd gotten the job done. And I'd discovered the threat of the meltdown in progress. Plus, the captain hadn't even mentioned the incident with the Beltherian who threatened the girl. Captain North was sticking to what I'd done wrong, and avoiding what I'd done right.
It occurred to me that I might actually get off lightly!
"Just what does that smile mean, Mister?"
(Oops!) "Uh . . . I was just wondering if there might be something particularly incriminating in that log, Sir. Something that might link the pirates to the Beltherian government, officially."
There was something about the slow smile that spread across the captain's face that evaporated my own sudden optimism.
"An excellent idea, Mr. Newcastle. Why don't you put in a few extra hours going over that log. Report to me when you discover something valuable."
I had not missed the fact that Captain North said when I discovered something, rather than if. The meaning was clear; keep looking until you find something. What the captain was suggesting amounted to a monumental task. I suspected that my color suddenly looked a bit ghostly, and my forced smile appeared distinctly counterfeit as I quietly said, "Aye, sir."
Just then a soft chime announced a visitor at the door, and North touched a button on his desk console.
"Who is it?"
A precise, well-modulated voice from the wall speakers said, "Dr. Xavier Carrington. May I speak with you, Captain North?"
The captain drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out as he shifted mental gears and composed himself before he answered. "Yes. Come in, Doctor." Then he spoke to me. "Stand at ease, Mister."
As Dr. Carrington entered the room I tried to relax by focusing on his appearance. He was of medium height, fairly slender, and he carried himself very erect. It gave him a look of studious dignity, which was strengthened by the carefully combed gray hair and well trimmed beard. I estimated his age to be about sixty. He wore a polite little ghost of a smile, his eyebrows raised slightly, as if he anticipated great pleasure at being introduced to everyone present. When he spoke, his voice was lecture-hall perfect.
"Your quarters are very appealing, Captain. In fact, I'm impressed with the whole ship. I hadn't known that warships were appointed in such good taste."
The way to a captain's heart is to compliment his ship. Carrington had North in the palm of his hand just seconds after walking into the room.
"Thank you, Doctor." Then Captain North waved his hand towards me. "This is Lieutenant David Newcastle."
Dr. Carrington's smile widened a bit as he took my hand and gave it one small, quick shake.
"Actually, Doctor," said North, "the Candlelight is a warship only when she has to be. We're equipped with things like science labs and medical facilities that allow us to do much more than just fight when the need arises."
Dr. Carrington nodded with quiet approval, as if we'd just passed inspection. I found myself beginning to stand at attention again, just out of respect.
"Some of the works art I saw mounted on the corridor walls are quite remarkable," said Dr. Carrington. "And the ship even has lounge areas and those impressive observation decks overlooking the bridge crew."
"All the works of art and the many of the decorations in the recreational areas are purchased by the crew, Doctor. This ship is their home, sometimes for many years. For that reason, she's designed to be pleasant to live in, and the crew is allowed to add touches of their own, as you've seen."
"Well, she's certain quite regal, and I can't fault her fighting ability, Captain. Or the crew's, for that matter! I stand here as a living testament to their bravery and skill." Again he chuckled with diplomatic skill. Then he took a deep breath and got down to business. "Captain, my colleagues and I need your assistance. You see, I am traveling with some of the members of a scientific investigative team that's being formed on Hollacox, in the Philoga system. The team is licensed and partially financed by the Alliance. We're being sent to investigate a recent discovery on a planet in one of the two Magellanic Clouds. I'm not permitted to be more precise about the location. It's an abandoned artifact of some sort, and we think it could be . . . something quite remarkable." The doctor paused, perhaps for dramatic effect.
"How can we help, Doctor?" said the captain.
"Well, it's very possible that my traveling companions and I will miss our connecting flight at Timbuk Three, the Rembrandt's destination. This would delay our arrival at Hollacox. Everything possible has been done to allow the investigative team to depart as soon as it can, and I would hate for us to be the cause of any delay. Could you possibly take us on to Hollacox after delivering the other passengers to Timbuk Three?"
North looked slightly embarrassed as he phrased his careful reply. "Doctor, I'm . . . afraid that a galactic stellacruiser can't be — "
"If you'll inform your superiors of our identities, Captain, you might receive permission to accommodate us," Dr. Carrington said with a certain persuasive humility. His polite smile held no veiled threat of "friends in high places." The implication was clear. He was in high places. The captain read Carrington's remark the same way.
"Doctor, are you at liberty to say more about this discovery in the Magellanic Clouds?"
"Certainly, to a high ranking officer like yourself, Captain. And of course to Mr. Newcastle, if you'll vouch for him. But what I'm about to say must not go outside this room."
North gave me a look that echoed his earlier displeasure, but he said, "I'll vouch for any of my officers, Doctor."
"Wonderful," said Carrington with a smile. "Well, we don't really know very much about it, yet. Just that an automated probe discovered an artifact that seems to warrant extensive study. It's apparently abandoned, extremely advanced, and obviously quite old, despite being in a perfect state of preservation."
"What does it look like?" I asked.
"Its general appearance, you mean? Well, it's difficult to describe. Ummm . . . a city? A refinery? A factory, perhaps? It could be a giant work of art. We can only guess. Perhaps . . . well, perhaps it's all of the above."
Now I was chuckling politely. I suspected that any joke the doctor made would be equally . . . scholastic.
"Sounds intriguing, Doctor," said Captain North, unconsciously falling under the spell of Carrington's formal manner. The man was likeable, even though he made you feel like he was the smartest person in the room . . . and knew it. "What exactly is your field, Doctor?"
"I have several, actually," said Carrington with another momentary look of humility. "Primarily, computers. The software designs needed for the more recent computers are hellishly complex. Some of the most advanced computers have demonstrated behavior that indicates actual self-awareness and — " Carrington stopped when he saw Captain North struggling to hide a smile. "Why, Captain, you seem amused about something."
North laughed aloud as he said, "I'm afraid my introduction was incomplete, Doctor. May I introduce Mr. David Newcastle, the Candlelight's computer psychologist . . . and co-author of a reference book entitled In Defense of Computer Sentience."
Carrington suddenly grinned broadly and looked at me as if I had just peeled off a disguise.
"How stupid of me! Of course! I should have recognized the name when I heard about what you've done with the computer here on the Candlelight." He shook my hand all over again, this time giving it three measured pumps, which I interpreted as uncontrolled enthusiasm. "My grandson wrote me a year ago about your book, and so I read it one evening."
"In one evening? You're a fast reader, Doctor."
"It comes in handy in our profession," said Carrington. Our profession. The good doctor was rapidly restoring my wounded self esteem.
"How old is your grandson, Sir?"
"Twelve," said Carrington. Oh, well. So much for my book, to say nothing of my self esteem.
"Well . . . my co-author and I tried to make the book easily understood by the layman." It sounded like apology, and Carrington realized it immediately.
"You do yourself an injustice, Mr. Newcastle. My grandson is . . . very bright for his age. He starts his first year of college next year."
Good Lord, if his grandson was six years ahead of the average kid, he was a bit more than just very bright. My self esteem returned, with accrued interest.
"I enjoyed your book, Mr. Newcastle, and I also enjoyed the story about your duel with the pirate ship's computer," said Carrington, showing so much uncharacteristic enthusiasm that I felt positively heroic!
"Duel, Doctor?" I said, actually blushing. "Isn't that a somewhat flamboyant description?" I felt flattered by his attention, but I spotted a veiled look in Captain North's eyes which made squirm.
"Not at all, Mr. Newcastle. In our profession it isn't often that the outcome of a life-or-death situation depends on our actions. Perhaps you'd consent to relate a first-hand account of the incident to me and my colleagues. I'd like to write to my grandson about it."
"Certainly, Doctor." I had to resist the urge to add, Aw, shucks, it was nothing.
Captain North didn't like the way I was rapidly becoming a hero for something that nearly destroyed his ship, so he quickly changed the subject. "Would you care to dine at my table this evening, Doctor?"
"Yes, indeed!" said Carrington. "That would be a splendid time to hear Mr. Newcastle's adventure, if you'll let him join us."
Captain North was motionless for a moment before he nodded his consent, but then he shot me a hostile look. He couldn't refuse Dr. Carrington's request, even though the last thing he wanted was a hero's reward for my knuckleheaded stunt.
"We were just talking about Mr. Newcastle's . . . adventure before you arrived, Doctor."
"Oh, I see," said Carrington, but he really didn't. "Well, then I look forward to joining you both at dinner. Please let me know what your superiors decide about my request, Captain."
"As soon as we pick up the rest of the Rembrandt's passengers I'll contact Sector Headquarters to file my report on the incident. If you'd like to join me on the bridge, you can hear their reply firsthand."
"Yes, thank you. I would."
"Fine. Uh . . . Mr. Newcastle, I believe you have some research to do."
"Ummm . . . Aye, Sir. Quite a lot."
"Then we won't keep you from it. Dismissed."
I trudged off to lose myself forever in the limitless verbiage of the pirate ship's log.
Just minutes after I left the captain's cabin, the Candlelight came alongside the disabled Rembrandt. Mr. Sinclair (the executive officer) was on the bridge, directing the maneuver while Captain North went to the main air lock complex to supervise the placement of more than fifteen hundred bewildered people. Captain North had already been in touch with Sector Headquarters and the Rembrandt's owners. Both had agreed that since so much of the Rembrandt's cargo was in the Candlelight's hold already, it made sense to leave it there. The passengers' baggage would be added to it.
For the next four days the G.S.C. Candlelight would be a passenger ship . . . a very crowded passenger ship. The Candlelight's junior crewmen were moved to the cluttered cargo hold, where they made temporary homes atop the mountains of crates and boxes. Many of the Rembrandt's passengers would be quartered there, too. The vacated cabins were assigned to groups of women and families with small children.
The whole situation was so hectic and bizarre that it generated a light-hearted mood, even though many of the passengers were still grief-stricken by the loss of loved one who had been murdered by the Beltherians. The Candlelight's brig had to be heavily guarded so that the prisoners would not be attacked by passengers seeking revenge.
But the majority of the excited throng who came streaming across the boarding bridges were just glad to be alive. The kids were having a ball. To them it was a grand adventure.
I got to keep my cabin, but I lost my bunk. Fernie Man, the chief computer technician, gave his own cabin to a family of four, and then he moved into my cabin. One of my three normal roommates got sent to the cargo hold so that Fernie would have a place to sleep (rank doth have its privileges).
Fernie then generously donated my bunk to a gentleman from the group of Rembrandt passengers who was so old he could honestly call Ferrnie "sonny". At Fernie's age this was such a rare delight that he and the elderly man became instant friends, and I knew they would spend the whole trip talking about the Good Old Days — while I slept on the floor.
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When things had settle down and the passengers were distributed throughout the crowded ship, Captain North had Dr. Carrington paged on the PA to meet him on the bridge.
The Candlelight was in hyperdrive, barreling along towards Timbuk Three. The bridge area and the observation desks were again shielded from the blue-shifted starlight by the connected set of wrap-around display screens which stood twenty-feet tall to meet the curved roll-out ceiling.
When North and Carrington entered the bridge area along the level walkway at the rear, they saw that one of the twenty-foot display screens was filled with the crystal clear image of the communications center at Armed Forces Sector Headquarters. A stunning blonde sat at a communications station in the foreground, while people occupying similar stations filled the background. Communications officer Tony Thorn was speaking to the young lady, using his incredibly melodic, professional voice, which always sounded about twice as fast as any normal person could speak.
"Reception is fine, Sector Central, and you are a sight for sore eyes, as the poets say. How read you this?"
"Well and clear," the girl replied crisply, ignoring Tony's flirtatious manner. "G.S.C. Candlelight, stand by for a message from Admiral Rishaw. Is Captain North available?"
North stood beside his first officers, Lieutenant Commander Sinclair, silently motioning the executive officer to stay in the command chair rather than the moment, he put his finger to lips to silence Sinclair just as he was about to announce that the Captain was on the bridge.
Captain North knew what Tony Thorn was up to, and he wanted to have a bit of fun at his communication officer's expense. Since the console stations on the bridge all faced forward, Thorn did not know that the captain was behind him.
"I shall summon the good captain immediately," said Thorn, his white smile blazing across his dark face, charm oozing from every pore. He flipped a switch on his console, and the PA filled the ship with his now business-like voice. "Captain North to the bridge. We have Admiral Rishaw on-line, Sir." Then Thorn's face resumed its Don Juan expression and his voice acquired a fresh coat of sugar. He noticed that the girl was studying him curiously. Tony was intensely proud of the fact that his African heritage was 98.5% pure Negro, so his skin was the color of dark chocolate and his features proclaimed that he was the descendent of Ethiopian tribal leaders from centuries ago.
After a short pause and a wide smile, Tony tried his favorite opening line on the lovely blond. "You're probably wondering how I acquired this remarkable tan."
The girl dropped her professional detachment and gave in to her curiosity. In the 23rd Century, in a galaxy where humans were a small part of the Alliance of Sentient Life, pure blooded African decedents were rare among humans. Tony Thorn was the first one she had ever spoken to.
Tony's bright smile and friendly manner, not to mention the joke he'd just made, encouraged the young lady to speak frankly. "I've heard there are cults which prohibit interracial marriage. Is that true?"
Tony leaned forward and looked at the attractive woman the way men do when they're on the third date at a fancy restaurant, and a small table is the only thing between them and a successful seduction. In a voice that could talk nuns into spending a weekend in Vegas, Tony said, "Misguided cults and narrow minded people can't keep two people apart whose destiny is written across the stars."
Whether it was the audacity of the remark or the mesmerizing charm of the man who said it, the lovely lady's eyes glazed over while they focused on Tony as if the two of them all alone. The entire bridge crew fought with sudden attack of stifled snickers.
Captain North was smiling too as he watched this amazing demonstration of Tony Thorn's amorous superpowers as he stood on the level walkway at the top of the inclined bridge area. He exchanged a knowing glance with Dr. Carrington while the two men remembered the golden days of their youth. But finally Captain North announced his presence in a quiet voice.
"Mr. Thorn? Are we ready to speak with Sector Central now?"
Tony whirled around and gave Captain North the same look banks robbers give policemen when they're caught in the act. On the big display screen, the lovely blond enjoyed watching Tony squirm and fumble at this console as he blurted out, "Aye, Sir! Right. Ummm . . . go ahead Sector Central. We're ready to copy."
The blond let a faint smile decorate her adorable face, and she winked seductively at Tony as she thumbed a switch on her console. She vanished from the screen and was replaced by Admiral Rishaw in his office. The admiral's desk seemed to be three-quarters computer console, but it still looked like a desk, because he'd filled most of the horizontal surface with personal items. There were pictures of his family, a miniature of a transector stellashuttle (his first starship assignment), and a small statue of a Denebian, sonic carved from glossy obsidian. It looked like a six-legged hippopotamus with a long pointed tail and a giant worm for a head.
Admiral Rishaw was a small man in his early seventies whose face held a vague echo of his East Indian heritage, but his hair was straw-colored and straw-textured. It wasn't exactly combed, it was just uniformly suppressed.
"Captain Thorn, we're still buzzing over your preliminary report on the Rembrandt incident. You people did a fine job." He was smiling as he looked away from the oversized display screen that stood at an angle off to his right, across the corner of the desk/console. He turned towards the camera on his left, and the image the bridge crew saw on their screen included both the admiral and his big display, across the desk The display had a block of text on one half, and video images of scenes taken from the Candlelight's cameras during the battle with the pirates on the other half.
"Thank you, Admiral."
"I know you're up to your ears in Rembrandt passengers, so take your time with the full version of your official report. Meanwhile, is there anything you'd like to add to your preliminary report?"
"No, Admiral, it was just as I described it. The fact that we saw no one but Beltherians should be considered by the Council of Justice. And their log should be examined carefully for anything that will link them directly to the Beltherian government."
"We'll go over it minutely, but I'm not hopeful. Those people are so careful they wouldn't even leave footprints in wet mud."
"So I've heard," said North, Then he turned to Dr. Carrington at his side. "Admiral Rishaw, this is Dr. Xavier Carrington, a passenger from the Rebrandt. He has a request."
"How do you do, Doctor? What can I do for you, Sir?"
Dr. Carrington stood with his hands folded in front of him and his head tilted slightly forward as he spoke quietly to the image of the Admiral on the big display. "Sir, would it be possible for the Candlelight to transport me and my colleagues to Hollacox, rather that to Timbuk Three, so that we may rendezvous with the rest of the scientific expedition being assembled there? You'll find information about the expedition filed under the code name Nestria."
Rishaw studied Carrington's face for a moment, sensing something in the man's manner which seemed to suggest that the humble request should be taken very seriously. After a few seconds the Admiral said, "How is that spelled, please?" Carrington told him, and the admiral turned to his keyboard. "Excuse me while I check that, Doctor."
Rishaw turned and punched in the name that Carrington had given him. The bridge crew waited in silence while Admiral Rishaw read what came back. He typed some more, waited, and then drove everybody crazy by raising his eyebrows and voicing a soft "Hmmm . . . ".
Carrington just stood next to the captain, smiling in a faintly smug way. Finally Rishaw looked up.
"I quite agree, Doctor. The departure of your expedition will not be delayed. Captain North, unless you find a ship waiting for Dr. Carrington at Timbuk Three, you will proceed at full speed from there to Hollacox with Dr. Carrington and anyone he designates as part of his staff. I'll have the coded hardcopy transmitted to you immediately, by order of me, dated such-and-such, et cetera, et cetera."
North, showing no trace of the tremendous curiosity he felt at seeing Admiral Rishaw so quickly accept Carrington's importance, simply said, "I understand, Admiral."
"And now, Captain," said Rishaw, suppressing a mischievous smile, "I have some really big news. It is my honor to inform you that the captain and crew of the G.S.C. Candlelight have been awarded a fifteen day surface leave on the planet Tason, to begin at twelve hundred hours on 59.77.535 galactic. Which means you'd better make haste in delivering your passengers to Timbuk Three and Hollacox. Any delay just might make you late."
This announcement turned the entire bridge crew into park statues right where they sat, and not word was spoken for a silent three seconds, after which a crop of toothy grins sprang up all over the room. Captain North was no exception as he received the news of this tremendous honor. He stood there gazing at the admiral like a kid who'd caught Santa Claus standing in his living room at two in morning, then he finally said, "On behalf of all of us, Admiral . . . thank you."
Rishaw grinned as he said, "Oh, don't thank me, Daniel. This came down to me through channels. We'd appreciate it, Captain, if you folks would take a little time off to catch up on your awards."
Captain North was beaming like a sweepstakes winner. "We'll be happy to oblige, Admiral."
"Good, then I'll let you get back to work. Congratulations, and enjoy yourselves." Admiral Rishaw reached for the cut off switch, and the screen went dark.
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Is there no man on Earth who has the wisdom and innocence of a child?
~ The Space Children (1958)
Last edited by Bud Brewster on Tue May 14, 2019 6:01 pm; edited 6 times in total |
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