Star Glory (Empire Series Book 1) Page 6

  The captain gave the Chief a nod, then sat back. He reached out one hairy arm to hold his glass of water but did not lift it. The brown curls of his head almost glowed under the overhead’s yellow lights. Or were my eyes playing tricks on me? I saw deeper into the electromag spectrum than any person I knew, or had read about. I could see ultraviolet at the far end, far infrared at the other end, and even see the flutter of microwaves as they escaped from a Mess Hall reheater. So my ability to directly see the rainbow shimmer of the antimatter tubes without use of goggles was not unusual. To me. Clearly the captain thought otherwise.

  “PO Stewart, this morning I approved the combat commendation for you and sent that approval to your digital file. The Quartermaster will deliver to you a ribbon, plus a sword pin that you can add to your rating badge.” I did not look down to where the eagle, anchors and two red chevrons sat on my left shirt sleeve. Making it to an E-5 Petty Officer Second Class in just a year after graduation from Great Lakes had seemed outstanding to me. Clearly the captain liked what I had done. But he had not called us here to confirm my commendation. What did he have in mind?

  “Sir, yes sir. I will add the ribbon and pin to my service khakis. Thank you, sir.”

  The captain’s face moved from amiable to intensely thoughtful. His eyebrows pulled together as he squinted at me. “PO Stewart, as captain of the Star Glory I make it a point to know the backgrounds and abilities of each person on this ship. Which is how I came to be aware of your remarkable eyesight. You do not need to wear the magfield goggles in order to see the rainbow shimmer of each antimatter flow tube, do you?”

  “Sir, no sir, goggles are not necessary. But the Chief insists I wear them so . . . so some reviewing party at Moon Base does not have cause to cite this ship for irregular crew behavior. Sir.”

  The captain nodded slowly. “Yes, you do what is needed in order to keep me out of the gaze of the electron pushers at Moon Base. I appreciate that. Some enlisteds and NCOs are not so careful in their performance.” The man lifted his water glass, took a sip and put it down. “You are also different in other ways. It has been reported to me that you can hear whispered conversations from a mile away. Or you did so on the parade field at Great Lakes. And from the far side of the Farm Deck here. Is that correct?”

  Oh crap. I licked my dry lips, wishing for my own glass of water. “Sir, yes sir. That is correct.”

  Nadya Kumisov now turned and stared at me. As did Martha Bjorn. Major Owanju gave a low sigh.

  “Wish my Marines could hear the enemy moving over the terrain that well,” the large man said.

  The captain raised his right hand. He showed two raised fingers. Now he raised a third. “Lastly, I saw a vidrecording of you lifting up Corporal Warren Johnson at Orbital Base Trinity, then also lifting up Spacer Third Bill Watson. That was outside the Barnacle Bill tavern on the station.” The man leaned forward and folded both broad hands on the table. “Then you ran, while carrying them both, at a speed estimated to be thirty-seven miles per hour down the corridor, arriving at a corridor intersection in time to avoid the arrival of the naval MPs. That’s as fast as a gray wolf or a spotted hyena. Is that vidrecord correct?”

  Oh, may the Goddess save me! “Sir, captain, the vidrecord is correct. Uh, I got muscles from my cattle ranch work during my teen years. And I learned to run fast across our acreage. Sir.”

  The captain slowly shook his head. “PO Stewart, stick with the truth, as you have done so far. Do not attempt to decoy me with peripheral data. I’ve been subjected to lots of decoy maneuvers during combat trials above Moon Base. You can’t decoy me.”

  Major Owanju chuckled. Lieutenant Bjorn nodded slowly. Commander Kumisov kept her black eyes on me and squinted. Her look was very intent. As if she were trying to figure out the puzzle that was me. Well, I had spent most of my life doing my best to hide my special abilities. Clearly those efforts had not worked with this captain.

  “Sir, uh, I’ve always been good at anticipating problems and having ready a needed solution.” I grabbed an empty glass, then just held it as pouring water from the pitcher while under the gaze of five people way senior to me did not seem smart. “That was how I figured we could use an antimatter stream to hit back at the Empire ships, before they got in range to laser zap us. Didn’t need to do the math to know the AM would hit them before they got in range to zap us. Just knew it. Sir.”

  The captain blinked. “That comment is interesting, but not really relevant to the issue at hand.” The captain sat back, stiffened his shoulders and looked at me the way a brown eagle had while I was birthing a baby calf. As if the sight of blood had aroused it. “PO Stewart, you have unusual abilities beyond a sharp mind. That means you are a tactical tool who may prove useful in future dealings with Empire aliens. And any other aliens we may meet at Kepler 22 and elsewhere. I expect to need every human tool at my disposal in order to obtain intelligence on this Empire, and to find a way to obtain DT pellet refueling, which as you noted to your friends was the controlling factor in how long this ship can stay away from Sol. Correct?”

  “Uh, correct, sir.” This captain was a leader unlike any I had ever before met. Somehow he had had Heidi call up the vidrecord of my lunch chat with my friends. Hopefully the captain had not called up records of my toilet time. “Sir, how can I help you and the ship?”

  A brief smile showed on the man’s lightly tanned face. “A good response. I can see why all the Great Lakes profs liked your work.” Then somber seriousness replaced it. “PO Stewart, as your friend Chief Warrant Officer Two Oksana Rutskaya told you and your table mates, I ordered this ship to Kepler 22 in an effort to obtain intelligence on the Empire. Perhaps we will meet there what she called the Empire’s underbelly, criminals to be specific. Or maybe we will find people who have rebelled against this Empire. That is less likely, in my judgment.” The captain took a sip from his water glass. “You have unusual insights, in addition to unique physical abilities. What would you suggest this ship do upon arrival at Kepler 22?”

  Wasn’t it obvious? “Captain, sir, I recommend we remain in the outer reaches of that star system, beyond the edge of its magnetosphere. That way we can jump to another star if an Empire ship suddenly decloaks off our starboard beam.” Another thought hit me. “Or, if our arrival spot is empty of other ships and people, we could make a short Alcubierre jump to the other side of the system. In fact we could do multiple mini-jumps to different parts of the star’s magnetosphere globe. Sir.”

  Kumisov nodded slowly. Bjorn gave me a thumbs-up sign of approval. Owanju sat still as a rock, though a low rumble of musing came from his throat. My hearing again. The captain lifted his eyebrows.

  “Good tactical suggestion, PO Stewart. What else? What other possibilities do you see in our arrival at Kepler 22?”

  I knew I should have hidden from the draft. Mom’s cousin Aunt Agatha owned a small farm in Manitoba. I could have gone there and pretended to be an autistic youth who had been passed over for the draft. It had been an option I’d considered in the last year of high school. But running from trouble, or from my duty, were never options I chose while growing up. Which morality had landed me here, under the steely penetrating gaze of a combat starship captain who was clearly far more thoughtful than the usual run of ship commanders I had heard about. Or maybe what I had heard at Great Lakes had been bogus bilge turd, if Captain Neil Skorzeny was a good example of the women and men who captained EarthGov’s starships.

  “Sir, the Forest Room on Farm Deck has some unique biologicals from the Amazon jungle. Medicinal herbs, sir. I’ve heard they were planted by Doctor Indira Khatri of Med Hall.” The Chief now joined the intense visual watch of me. “Sir, our tech is likely to be of low value to any star-traveling species. But unique biologicals might have commercial value. Smooth Fur mentioned them as something Earth would have to supply to the Empire.” I licked my lips. “We might trade some of our biologicals for DT fuel pellets. Since large gas giants contain hydrogen isotopes in thei
r upper atmospheres, there might be some gas giant miners who pull DT isotopes from an outer gas giant and then sell them to ships that arrive at the edge of the magnetosphere. Sir.”

  The captain frowned. “Now that is insightful. XO Kumisov had earlier suggested to me the need to stay at the edge of the magnetosphere, though the option of doing mini-jumps had not been mentioned by her or by Tactical’s CWO Hilary Chang.” He glanced at Kumisov, then over to Bjorn, before fixing back on me. “The offer of biologicals as trade items has not been suggested by anyone. Including Lieutenant Gladys Morales of Farm Deck. That’s two insights. You got a third?”

  Wracking my brain while under the intense inspection of the ship’s senior officers was not an exercise I welcomed. At least Nehru had been left out of this assemblage. Though no doubt the man would watch the vidrecord of me and the Chief when he went off shift. If the man did not ask for the vidrecord, it was clear to me now that Captain Skorzeny would order Nehru to review it. This captain missed nothing. I had thought grabbing my two badly drunk friends and running them to a cross corridor had been unseen by anyone in authority. After all, it was just what a friend would do for another friend. Now, all my friends might avoid having a meal with me in view of the fact our latest lunch had been monitored by the captain. I hoped not. Romance had evaded me. I dance poorly. I’m too literal in my thinking. And I’m socially inept, compared to other people my age. Keeping Bill, Warren, Oksana and Cassandra as friends was vital to me. Maybe the Chief would not tell them about our lunch table monitoring. That musing gave me a third idea.

  “Captain, Doctor Cassandra Murphy mentioned during our recent lunch that all the aliens on the bridge of Smooth Fur’s ship appeared to show bright skin colors. She called it aposematism, as in warning signs that this critter person is dangerous.” I paused. The captain’s intent look had not wavered. Lieutenant Bjorn was looking interested. The major was thoughtful. And Commander Kumisov continued to watch me intently, as if I were an antique Rubik’s Cube puzzle she strongly wished to figure out. Great. “Anyway, Cassandra observed that all the Empire aliens resembled apex predators. If that is correct, then we can assume this Empire is run by other apex predators like these Dominants who seemed to be in charge.” I smiled quickly. “And Smooth Fur told the hunting cat Zorka to move his ship to ‘prey chase-down’ speed. Well, if the Empire are intelligent predators, there have to be intelligent prey people. Whether they are herbivores or omnivores like us, it does not matter. What matters is that anyone viewed as prey by the Empire could be, or become, our allies. Sir.”

  “Nicely put. Better than Magnus himself put it last night.” The captain looked right to Kumisov. “XO, what is your view of this little lesson in evolutionary biology?”

  The Russian native frowned, then poured water into her glass. She took a sip, then set it down. “Sir, the observations of Doctor Murphy and Dr. Bjorg give us some idea of how to view other peoples in this Empire of Eternity. And you cannot run an empire the size of Milky Way galaxy without making enemies, and without motivating other species to hide from you, undercut your influence and seek every possible ally in that species’ resistance to the Empire’s authority.” She nodded to me, then faced the man in charge. “Captain, I suspect there will be plenty of space-going alien people who will be just like us—tech weak and weapons weak species who are seeking help from other people just like us.”

  The captain looked to me. “PO Stewart, I like your insights. Continue your studies with Dr. Murphy. Learn from your Chief. Ignore Lieutenant Nehru’s verbal jabs. I for one like a good steak. And when we emerge from Alcubierre space-time, make sure you are on duty and watching our All Ship video transmission from the Bridge. If you see something important, speak up! Immediately.” The man looked back to Kumisov and smiled easily. “XO, I think the actions of young Stewart in Kepler 37, which happened thanks to his watching of our Bridge feed, are the best justification I can come up with for continuing to share live, unedited audiovisual feeds from the Bridge with the rest of the ship. Do you agree?”

  “Yes sir, agree most strongly.” Kumisov looked aside to me. “And while some of PO Stewart’s suggestions are matters we have heard from other parties, they do reflect his rather . . . unique insight ability. Who knows, maybe we can cross-appoint him as our Alien Ambassador?” She chuckled and her cheeks went red with the laughing.

  The captain laughed also, as did Bjorn and my Chief. The major just shook his head at the mention of politics in a combat threat situation. I did not know what to make of the captain calling me up here to admit to personal issues I had worked hard to hide from public view, let alone to offer tactical suggestions. He had a fine Tactical officer in Chang, and a well-trained combat officer in the Marine major. My thoughts did not seem unusual to me. Most of it was obvious, given our status at a lone surviving starship on the run from the bosses of the galaxy.

  The captain stopped laughing. His expression went serious. “Chief O’Connor, PO Stewart, you two are dismissed. Attend to your shift duties.”

  My boss stood up slowly and saluted our boss. “Captain Skorzeny, this has been most interesting. Thank you for approving my commendation suggestion.”

  I stood hurriedly, pushing back my wooden chair with a scrape against the metal of deck. I too saluted. “Sir, thank you for the commendation approval!”

  Skorzeny saluted back, then reached out for the water pitcher. “Get out of here you two.”

  We got. A quick tap on the gravshaft wall’s Open patch brought us our ride home. I followed the Chief onto the gravplate, then listened and watched.

  “Heidi, take us down to Engineering.”

  “Descending,” the AI said softly, her soprano sounding nicely musical.

  I watched the red bar of our gravplate move down past Astrogation, Science and Farm decks. Next came Recycling Deck. It always had a pissed-on odor the few times I’d entered it. Course maybe that was my imagination. Our descent slowed and stopped. The red bar held steady at Armories and Weapons Deck. The slidedoor slid open.

  My best friend Warren stood there, looking distracted. But as soon as he looked up at the door opening, surprise showed on his face. “Hi there Nate. Uh, hello Chief O’Connor. Thought you folks would be stuck down in Engineering since this is the start of First Shift.” He walked into the gravshaft interior. “Heidi, take me down to Residential,” Warren said hurriedly as the slidedoor closed.

  I nodded to him. “Warren, great to see you! Thought you’d be asleep by now. Why up so early?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “The major assigned me and five other platoon folks to work on installing a nose laser gun on two of the GTO shuttles. Before we arrive at this Kepler 22. He believes in being prepared. And he does not like the idea of visiting a strange ship in a weaponless shuttle.”

  The Chief shifted his position as the red bar slowly descended. “Good action by your major. Best to be prepared for the unknown.”

  Warren nodded, then looked to me, his relaxed look going serious. “Which reminds me of something I’ve been thinking I need to share with you, Nate. Okay?”

  The red bar slowed as it crossed into the Supplies Deck region. “Sure Warren, what’s on your mind?”

  My friend glanced at the Chief, who stood stiff and focused on the slidedoor exit. Warren looked back to me.

  “Nate, you may not get this cause Western and modern Asia folks are used to saying ‘See you tomorrow!’ to a friend they part from. But I’ve served in Somalia, Sudan and Yemen. In those places, people see death every day. They do not count on being alive the next day. So they never say what is normal to you and me.” My friend paused, as if the presence of the Chief bothered him. With a shrug he spoke. “Well, everyone on this ship now looks forward to the next day of life. But with a change. They no longer take it for granted that they will live to see the following day.” He smiled. “Your part in this is well known. So you’ll probably get laid before we arrive at Kepler 22.”

  “No way,” I said hurr
iedly, not liking this turn into my private affairs.

  “Yes, way,” Warren said very soberly. “Just keep on having your life-saving hunches, Nate. I owe a guy at Barnacle Bill’s tavern a round of drinks. I sure would like to be alive to buy them for him. Okay?”

  The red bar stopped at Residential Deck. The slidedoor slid open.

  I nodded quickly. “Sure. I’ll keep on being lucky in my guesses. Your bunk calls now.”

  Warren smiled at me. Then he lifted both hands and passed them along the sidewalls of his short brown hair. “Who the hell says I’m heading to Marine quarters to sleep?” He turned and walked out quickly, a lift to his steps I had no noticed.

  The slidedoor closed. The gravplate resumed its downward fall. The bar passed into the Medical, Mess and Recreation Deck. The Chief looked over to me, his beady black eyes bright. “Your friend is right. Lots of folks appreciate what you did to save this ship. Probably you will get laid sometime in the next two weeks. Don’t let it go to your head. Focus. Focus on your job and on your antimatter systems. PO Gambuchino will take care of our reactor. And I will manage the thrusters and Alcubierre systems. We’re a team, young man. Stick with the team!”

  “Sir, uh Chief, I will!”

  The stocky, wide-shouldered man leaned forward, his shoulders stretching the brown fabric of his khaki shirt. “Good. Now follow me out to our work. And don’t worry, I will not tell anyone about the captain listening in on the lunch chatter of you and your friends. In truth, they are smart young folks. Stick with them. And like the captain said, speak up if you have another smart idea on dealing with these Empire aliens!”

  “Chief, I will. Thank you, sir.”

  I followed him out into the warm, humming space of Engineering. It mattered not to me that no one else could hear the distinctive humming of each ship system, like the fusion reactor, or the Supplies elevator or the microwave units in the Mess Hall. So what? So yes, I was a little bit special. But no one person can ever be the savior of a group. It’s up to the group to save itself. To be a united team. As I passed by Gambuchino, I waved to her and to her three Spacers. They waved back, their expressions happy to see me. That was something new to me. Something I really really needed, I now realized. My four best friends were the folks I knew I could rely on. But now, it seemed there would be other friends, other team members, on whom I could rely. It made my feelings of unease over our uncertain future easier to bear.