“What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
“You’re smiling. I thought maybe someone had died.” “Showdernitzel, make sure your page-two next-of-kin data is up to date.”
She laughed. “Sure thing, Master Chief.”
Yep, time to retire. Couldn’t even frighten a second-class petty officer. But first, he was going to chew ass on that new senior chief master-at-arms. Who the fuck did he think he was screwing with his division?
“All right, you dirt bags!” shouted Showdernitzel. “Listen up, Master Chief has something to say.”
Jacobs shook his head, bringing his thoughts back to GQ. A couple of seconds passed. Showdernitzel glanced over her shoulders at Jacobs, jerking her head, her eyes questioning. “Master Chief?”
Jacobs cleared his throat. “Okay, listen up. Most of you have gone through this drill in the Sea of Japan. And you all saw how it paid off having you topside with weapons. I doubt seriously our men in light blue will allow any aircraft to get that close again, but just in case, be alert. Your job is to ensure we fight Sea Base as best we can without someone trying to sabotage the effort or landing another force on board it. You are the last line of defense and the first line of security. You are the security force for GQ. That means you also have the authority to stop anyone who isn’t where they are suppose to be. It’s not for you to make a unilateral decision on whether someone is right or wrong; innocent or guilty; lost or found. Just bring them to quarterdeck.”
The sailors glanced at each other. A hand went up along the back row.
“Yes, Potts; you have a question?”
“Yes, Master Chief. Which quarterdeck?”
“What do you mean which quarterdeck?”
“Do you mean one of the ship’s quarterdecks?” Potts stuttered.
Jacobs sighed. Eight quarterdecks below them and there really wasn’t one topside. The tower was the nearest thing to a real Navy quarterdeck they had. He had slipped. He never slipped, and here he had. Yes, it was time to retire.
“Good question, Petty Officer Potts. In fact, it is such a good and easy question that I am going to let Petty Officer Showdernitzel answer it.” He smiled as her smile disappeared and her eyes widened. “Petty Officer Showdernitzel, I’ll be at the quarterdeck when you finish. After you make your security rounds, provide a report to me.”
He turned and started to walk away.
“Okay, dirt bags; right where you are standing is the quarterdeck.”
Jacobs stopped walking and turned around. The quick turn brought a sharp pain to his recent wound. He winced, but thankfully the pain quickly subsided. Jacobs looked up for a moment toward the hot sun. He reached over with his left hand and rubbed his right arm, leaving it in the sling.
Showdernitzel had maneuvered him into being out here on the aft starboard quarter. He squinted as he looked up at the hot sun.
Showdernitzel looked over her shoulder, grinned, and turned back to the boatswain mates. “Didn’t want to tell you, but that’s the truth. This is the quarterdeck and this is where our boss, Master Chief Petty Officer Jacobs, will take your prisoners. Petty Officer Potts, you’re paired with me.”
Jacobs saw Potts blush. The two of them had been spending a lot of time together since the brush with death last month in the Sea of Japan. It had been Potts whose body had protected Showdernitzel from the blast of the exploding North Korean Y-8 transport. Potts had had a crush on Mad Mary since he’d stumbled on board out of the mountains of Pennsylvania six months ago. Jacobs wondered how Mad Mary might have rewarded that worship, but then shook his head, thinking Too much info.
“Okay,” she continued. “You’ve got your assignments, now get on with them.”
Andrew's fingers wrapped and unwrapped around the shotgun. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Jacobs. He wished it were night. He could accomplish both sides of his mission.
“Hey, you’re with me. I’m Quincy Stonemeyer,” the sailor standing beside him said. The man raised the shotgun. “I’d offer to shake hands, but they’re kinda full right now.” The sailor laughed self-consciously.
Andrew looked down at the man. His face wrinkled in disgust at the acres of acne that covered Stonemeyer’s face.
“It’s an oily-skin thing, the doctor says,” Stonemeyer replied.
Andrew leaned back. “Sorry.”
The sailor nodded at him and smiled. “Don’t be. I’m used to it. It’s just acne, but it shocks people the first time they see my face, but — believe it or not — it’s getting better. Doctor told me not to squeeze them and eventually they’ll go away.”
“I apologize,” Andrew stuttered. “I did not mean to stare.”
“That’s all right. I’ve grown used to it. It is a burden given by the Lord. If He didn’t want me to learn from this travail, He would not have given me this burden to bear.”
“Amen,” Andrew said, nodding in agreement. “The Lord asks a lot of His followers.”
“Well, we have to start our rounds or the master chief will hang our privates on his mantle. You want me to lead?” Andrew nodded. “I’m new on board.”
“I know. Follow me. We have the rail gun over there and the forward starboard side of Sea Base.” Stonemeyer pointed toward the weapon mounted forward on the starboard side of Sea Base. “Not too far to walk; just the length of the deck.” “How long is Sea Base?”
“You mean the top part?” Stonemeyer laughed again. “Sorry, of course you do. It’s about 3,500 feet.” He hefted his shotgun and slung it over his shoulder.
Spots of acne appeared under the short sleeves of the dungaree shirt. Andrew shuddered, imagining the man’s body covered like his face, and the damage caused by the simple act of putting a sling across his shoulder. Maybe acne was the leprosy of the twenty-first century? He wondered if God would one day give him the power to heal such afflictions.
Stonemeyer motioned toward the projecting end of the runway. “If you include the ends of the runway that project out over the ocean both forward and aft, then it’s 4,500 feet.” Stonemeyer’s arms were white, covered in cream.
Andrew pulled his eyes away from his partner. He took in the massive man-made island. Was it really an abomination as his father called it? An abomination because to destroy it would hasten Armageddon and with Armageddon would come the chaos needed for God’s Army to assume its rightful leadership over the world? As he grew older, he had more questions about how things he seemed to see conflicted with those that he heard.
“… to join us. There’s about six of us who get—”
“What did you say? I’m sorry I was taking in the massive size of Sea Base.”
“It is huge, isn’t it. You can get lost on it. I heard of a sailor who came on board five months ago when we set sail and they only found him last week. He had been missing that long, lost in the engine room of one of the Fast Sealift Ships.” Stone-meyer shook his head. “Hard to believe.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “He was being held as a… you know… sex slave.” He straightened up and shuddered. “I would rather kill myself than have the Lord’s Temple — my body — violated.”
Andrew nodded. He could see someone losing themselves in this maze of metal. Sex was God’s reward for a pure life. Sex was not something abhorred by God’s Army, unlike the majority of religions on this earth. He doubted the story Stonemeyer told, but he was curious. If someone could get lost for five months on Sea Base, what was stopping him from killing Jacobs and this other person — Agazzi — and then disappearing until the ships returned to Pearl Harbor. The only thing stopping him was that he needed to know more about the layout of Sea Base. You can never hide in a strange forest.