Double Share (18 page)

“Ms. Jaxton, did it occur to you that this little story might be giving me a reputation that I don’t really deserve?”

“Oh, yes, sar. And you’re welcome. And may I say, sar, that I’m grateful for your gentle consideration. Thanks to being under your protection, I think I slept peacefully for the first time since I came aboard.”

“Being under my protection?”

“Yes, sar. The crew wouldn’t expect you to share, now would they? That puts Charlotte and me out of reach, at least until you tire of us.”

The smugness of her tone got to me.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you, Ms. Jaxton?”

“Yes, sar.”

“You realize this whole thing is impossible?”

“Of course, sar, but if I’d known that screwing an officer would keep the filthy fingers out of my bunk at night, I’d have found one long ago.”

The smugness in her tone had been replaced by something just a bit darker, a tad more bitter. At no point had she ever turned to look at me. I sat just behind her right shoulder while she stared straight ahead.

I just stared at her back. What could she be thinking? Was she mad?

Then I noticed that she wore a clean shipsuit. It was the first time I’d seen any member of the crew in a fresh one since I’d been aboard. I sighed, shook my head, and checked the systems logs to make sure the environmental and engineering watches had changed on time. I did my best to focus on the task at hand. There wasn’t much I could do about the crew. I had to just focus on my job.

At just past 12:00, Charlotte D’Heng climbed up to the bridge and relieved Ms. Jaxton for lunch. They had a murmured conversation and I pretended not to notice the rapid glances in my direction. Ms. D’Heng wore a clean shipsuit as well.

After a few ticks, Ms. D’Heng said, “Thank you, sar, and I’m sorry if we caused you any problems.”

I looked up and saw her looking at me over her shoulder. “Ms. D’Heng?”

“The story, most people know it’s a joke. Only the most obnoxious believe it, sar.” She bit her lower lip uncertainly. “It just kinda got out of hand.”

“I see,” I said, although I really didn’t.

Or maybe I did. I tried to imagine what it would be like in the berthing area for these two women. The hands in the dark. The unwelcome attention. The pressure to just go along to get along. I found myself frowning in Ms. D’Heng’s direction, but not at her. I relaxed my expression and offered a smile.

“Well, what’s done is done, eh? We’ll just have to see how it all shakes out over time. Maybe it’ll serve to smarten up a few people,” I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster.

“Thanks, sar,” she said with obvious relief. “But I wouldn’t count on it adding any IQ points to the crew’s total.”

“You’re probably right there.”

Ms. Cramer appeared at the ladder then, carrying a covered tray. “Your lunch, sar.”

I’d forgotten about that. Officers of the watch didn’t get relieved for meals. Their food was delivered to them. I indicated a corner of the console and she put the tray carefully on the desk. There was plenty of everything, even a small carafe of coffee and a pitcher of milk. It looked wonderful and I was hungry.

“Thank you, Ms. Cramer.”

“You’re very welcome, sar. You’ll need to keep your strength up,” she said with a giggle and scampered off the bridge.

“Ms. D’Heng?”

“She knows the truth, sar. I swear she does.”

“I see, Ms. D’Heng.”

I came to the full realization of just how much of a problem the whole situation was going to be.

Within a few ticks Ms. Jaxton returned to the bridge, and took the helm watch back. I ate my lunch, keeping an eye on the displays. I tried not to get caught up in the gossip I couldn’t control. I finished my coffee and put the dishes back on the tray. It had been a good lunch, and I still had a ways to go on the watch. There wasn’t anything I needed to do, except stay on the bridge, so I brought up the educational oversight system to check the dates. The next scheduled testing period was the end of September. I checked the ship’s calendar and realized that we’d be on our way back from Breakall before that. I flagged it on my tablet so I would be reminded before the date got too close.

On a whim, I scrolled back through the last few test sessions to see who’d taken exams. Only one person aboard had taken an exam in June. I supposed I wasn’t surprised. Philippa Ballantine, a specialist three in power, took and passed her spec two test. I wondered how long she’d be aboard if a ship needing a spec two in power posted an opening. The test was certified by the training officer, Third Mate Theresa Jaffee.

“So, that was your name. Where did you get off to, Ms. Jaffee?” I muttered under my breath.

“Excuse me, sar?”

I shook my head. “Nothing, Ms. Jaxton, just talking to myself again. Sometimes I do it out loud.”

“They tell me that’s not a symptom of insanity unless you’re surprised by your answers, sar.”

“You’re a comfort to me, Ms. Jaxton. A real comfort.”

“I try, sar,” she said with a smirk of her own. “I try.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
D
IURNIA
S
YSTEM
2358-
J
ULY-18

We were ten days out of Diurnia before I realized that the captain never came out of the cabin. To be precise, I hadn’t seen him since we’d secured from navigation detail, and he’d taken me down for his “welcome” speech. He had never showed up in the wardroom for meals, or turned up on the bridge while I was there. I suppose he could have been out when I was asleep but somehow I doubted that.

By comparison, I saw a lot of Mel and Fredi. They were at every meal. Mel was often on the bridge during the day, working on the engineering station there, reviewing logs, watching ship’s grav and power status, and running her own environmental checks. My favorite times were the meals where Mr. Burnside had the watch, sparing us his boorish table manners. These were the times where I could enjoy the company of Mel, Fredi, and Arletta.

Fredi came out of her shell at those meals, looking less frail, speaking up more. She was never the center of attention, or the life of the party, but she was guilty of a wonderfully wicked sense of humor.

“So, the captain doesn’t come out at all?” I asked over breakfast.

Fredi made a face. “He has everything he needs delivered to the cabin.”

“He’ll come out for the jump,” Mel commented.

“And then scurry back into his hole when we’re on the other side,” Fredi added.

Arletta shot me a look from the corner of her eye. “You looking for more quality time with him?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No, Captain Rossett made enough of an impression on me that one time.”

“He’s not so bad,” Mel said. “At least he stays out of the way of ships operations.”

Fredi nodded her agreement. “True. Be grateful he’s not one of those micromanaging captains,” she said. She turned to Mel and asked, “Remember…oh, what was his name? On the old
Geordie
?”

Mel sat still, thinking for a heartbeat, and then said, “Oh, yes. What was his name? On the
Geordan VanTassle
…” She thought for a moment longer. “James…”

“Jankowitz,” Fredi finished. “Captain Jimmy Jankowitz. That was it. The man would drive ya crazy. I swear he wanted to help the crew pick out which shipsuit to wear.”

“As long as it’s a clean one,” I muttered.

Arletta heard me and chuckled. “What? You think the hygiene of our crew is being compromised?”

“Is it just me, or does anybody else find the ship to be just a bit on the whiffy side?”

“Depends on who’s in the room with you,” Arletta said. She leaned over to sniff me dramatically. “You don’t smell too bad. Today.”

Fredi grinned. “I’m glad I don’t have any staff to deal with. All I have to do is make sure the can is tied on securely and stays there for the whole trip.”

Mel shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what the problem is. Getting them to do anything—from keeping the workspaces clean to putting on clean clothes. It’s ridiculous.”

Arletta gave a sly smile in my direction and said ever so sweetly, “I notice you’ve got your girls in clean ship suits, Ishmael. Your first midwatch certainly made an impression with the crew.”

I sighed and speared another slice of bacon from the platter.

“They’re not my girls. They’re my watch section and I didn’t do anything. We cleaned the bridge. That’s all.”

They all laughed.

“I know,” Arletta said, “and they know”—she nodded at Mel and Fredi—“but Mr. Burnside is still trying to figure out how to get only women in his watch section.”

“He’ll need to find some pretty beefy girls if he’s gonna replace his bully boys with women,” Mel said with a scowl.

Fredi snorted but didn’t say anything.

“Thanks, by the way,” I said to Arletta. “I notice that when we follow your section onto the bridge, there’s a lot less mess to clean up.”

“Every other ship I’ve ever been on has a regular cleaning schedule,” Fredi said. “I don’t understand how this one has gone so long.”

“It’s not in the standing orders,” Arletta pointed out. “I looked.”

“Okay, how do we change that?” I asked.

“What? Add it to the standing orders?” Arletta replied.

“Well, that or just get the ship clean? I got the bridge taken care of in a single watch. If we do a quick wipe down every time we go on, and then a full sweep and swab during the mid, that would probably take care of it.”

“So, that’s why the bridge has been so clean?” Mel said.

“Well, after that first night, it only takes us a few ticks. One stan out of the watch and we have the rest of the time to study and read.”

“Study?” Arletta asked. “You’ve got someone studying?”

“Um, both of them, actually,” I admitted. “D’Heng is preparing for able spacer and Jaxton is working on ship handler.”

Mel blinked. “You’ve been aboard ten days and you’ve got your section cleaning the bridge and studying for their ratings?”

“Yeah, Is that bad?”

“No! It’s excellent. But how did you do it?”

“You didn’t hear about the orgy?” Arletta asked.

We all laughed; I’d grown used to the twitting I was getting over that one. Arletta knew full well what happened, and that I was still a bit shocked and appalled over the whole situation. What truly disconcerted me were the requests from other women in the crew who wanted to be like my watch standers. Arletta knew about those—that shared door had gotten a lot of use—but she didn’t tease me about it. The fact that there were crew who felt like they needed that kind of protection was disconcerting enough for both of us.

“Seriously, how did you do it?” Mel asked when we stopped laughing at me. “I’ve been an officer for thirty stanyers, and I’ve never had as much trouble with any crew as I’ve had with this bunch.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Cleaning the bridge was actually easy. Jaxton was actively hostile. I think she thought I was gonna make a pass at her or something. She definitely didn’t trust me. When I called Charlotte up to the bridge that night I had to practically wrestle her shipsuit back on her.”

“Back on her? You didn’t mention that before,” Arletta said archly.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “She was ready to go and I had to convince the pair of them that I wasn’t planning on playing with them.”

Arletta grinned. “Yeah, so you say.”

“Go on, Ishmael, I want to hear this,” Mel said.

“So I outlined what I wanted to do, sent D’Heng down to the janitor locker for supplies, and we cleaned the bridge. Jaxton is the tallest so she did the ports. D’Heng and I did the consoles and screens. I showed them the broom locker on the bridge and it didn’t take that long to do a first sweep and swab of the deck. We’ve done a couple of them now and we’re making headway.”

“There’s a broom locker on the bridge?” Arletta asked.

“Yeah, just to the port of the—” I saw the wide-eyed, innocently fascinated stare coming from her direction and stuck my tongue out at her.

“You said, ‘We cleaned…’” Mel pointed out. “You rolled up your sleeves and cleaned consoles?”

“Well, sure. I work there too. Mr. Burnside gave me some management advice about what a bad idea that was for earning and keeping the respect of the crew when he found out about it.”

Mel leveled a stare at me.

“And what do you think of that advice?” she asked after a heartbeat.

“I was crew once myself. The officers I respected, respected me. They earned my respect by working hard and making sure I was able to do my job in a safe, secure, and efficient manner. Now that I’m an officer, I want to be like them. We’re all in the same tin can and it’s a long way to anywhere.”

I sipped my coffee, hoping I hadn’t just gotten into trouble, again. The academy offered a series of courses on the officer-crew dynamic. It was deemed particularly important since so many officers came from families who were crew. They’d grown up on ships where gramps or grammy were the captains and cousin Flo ran the galley. I’d had a lot of time to think about the relationship between officer and crew while at the academy, but the only role models I had to draw from had been the
Lois McKendrick
until I started shipping out on the summer cruises, and I began to see different perspectives.